At least the children wouldn’t see it happen.
One step. Two. He turned. And I plunged the scalpel into his throat and slashed.
Swift, silent, exact. As precise as juggling an orange.
And more permanent than the butt of a halberd.
He couldn’t call out, couldn’t lift his sword. I took it from his hand before he fell to his knees with a thunk, facedown on the floor. I wasn’t sure he even knew it was me, but I did know he wouldn’t be drowning anything again—children or feral kittens. I pulled his cloak away before it could be soaked with his blood and set it on the center internment stone along with his long sword, dagger, and push knife, then went to the door and waved the children forward.
“Don’t look,” I said, when they reached the tomb. “He’s dead and can’t hurt you.” And then everything went from slow to rushed. There were fifty crypt spaces in the tomb, each marble front approximately a two-foot square. More than half of them were already occupied, Ballenger names engraved on the outer marble faces.
I knelt down so I was eye level with Lydia and Nash and hurried to tell them everything they needed to know. “By this time tomorrow, you’ll be safe with friends, but the next several hours will take tremendous courage, the kind the Patrei has—the kind you have too. Do you understand?”
Lydia nodded, her jaw set hard.
Nash’s chin dimpled, trying to keep tears back.
“I can’t stay here with you. I have to lead them away. But no matter what you hear, no matter who calls to you or threatens you or threatens me, you will not answer. You will even hear me calling for you, but I’m only pretending to not know where you are. You must remain completely silent, even if I scream. It’s all part of the plan.” I squeezed both of their hands. “And it will fail if you call out—remember, we are not just saving ourselves, we’re working to save all of Hell’s Mouth—so you mustn’t cry, whimper, or even whisper to each other. It will be dark, and it will be cold, but once it is night, someone will come for you and take you away to where you’ll be safe. And you’ll ride your own horses. No more riding with the king. You’ll like that, won’t you?”
“Yes,” they both answered quietly.
And then I told them where I was going to hide them. “But Sylvey’s body isn’t there. It never was. It’s just an empty chamber.” But no one else will know that.
“Where’s Sylvey?” Nash asked. He never knew her. She died when he was just an infant, but he knew of her. Ballengers never forgot their history—or their family.
“She’s buried in the Moro mountains.”
Tears puddled in Lydia’s eyes, worried for a sister she had no memory of. “Will the gods be angry that she’s gone?”
“No,” I said, pulling her and Nash into my arms. An ache clutched my throat. “The gods know where she is. It’s a beautiful place where she was meant to rest. The gods are pleased.” I had never been so grateful for a broken law in my life. Thank the gods Jase had stolen her body. Even if they went so far as to search the tomb, no one would ever break into a crypt they believed was occupied with a sanctified body.
I pushed them both away so I could look into their eyes. “And now you must tell me one last thing. It’s very important. Do you know if there’s another entrance to the vault?”
They looked at each other and then back at me. “We aren’t supposed to tell. We didn’t even tell the king. Only family is allowed to know.”
“But I am family. I’m your
sister now. Jase would want you to tell me. Please.”
“You’re our sister?” Nash said.
“You’re never going away again?” Lydia added. “Because family doesn’t go away.”
“Never,” I answered, guilt stabbing me, because I knew sometimes family did go away even if they didn’t want to.
Nash looked at the dead guard in the corner to make sure he wasn’t listening. “It’s by the waterfall,” he whispered.
“There’s a cave. Left, left, right, left. I memorized that,” Lydia said proudly. “Once inside, those are the tunnels you take.”
“And there’s bats. Lots and lots of bats in the first big cave,” Nash added.
“Which waterfall? Where?” I asked. There had to be a hundred waterfalls in the mountains behind Tor’s Watch.
They both looked at each other, unsure. “It’s a long ways up the mountain. I think,” Lydia answered. They began reciting the few hazy details they remembered. A long, skinny meadow. A toppled tree with roots that rose higher than a house. A giant blue rock that looked like a bear standing on its hind legs. That was all they could remember, and I prayed it was enough.
I went to Sylvey’s crypt at the end of the middle row and unscrewed the rosette fasteners, then carefully removed the marble front and set it aside. Next I removed the inner shutter and looked into the long dark space, hoping there was no trace of a body ever being in there. It was clean, and there was plenty of room for two small children. I laid out the guard’s cloak inside and lifted them both up onto it, then wrapped it around them to keep them warm.
“Remember,” I whispered, “once it is night, someone will come for you. Until then, not a peep.”