After the Walls

Chapter 32

Shadows welcome me as I slip down the polished hallway, grateful I decided to kick off my boots back in Edward's room. My bare feet move silently, smoothly, like a feline sneaking through a forest on sure, light paws. The skirt swishes around my legs as I move. I grip my dagger in my hand, spinning the hilt over and over to distract myself from the humming of my pulse.

Finally, I arrive in the Red Movement quarters, in the east wing of the palace. I draw in a deep breath and push the door open. Light snoring echoes through the room from the far bed chamber. Several bed chamber doors line both the left and right walls. Between them, the common room is filled with some couches, dying coals in the fireplace, and a couple of tables. Light snoring echoes through the room from the far bed chamber. Thick and raspy. Theseus. I roll my eyes as I pad through the darkness, palming the wall to keep from knocking anything over. A blade of moonlight cuts in through the part in the curtains, illuminating the darkness just enough to spot a sparkling jar of shadowteeth blood. So large that the Red Movement would have to pour it into glasses and goblets to split it amongst themselves.

I tiptoe up to it, glancing over my shoulder one last time to check no one lurks in the gloom behind me. The prickle of the knife makes my mouth curl. Blood springs to the opening in my finger and I squeeze a tiny drop out. It releases a hiss as it sinks into the violet, shimmering shadowteeth blood.

The snoring falls silent, as if a pair of phantom hands have wrapped around Theseus' throat, cutting the wind off. I stiffened, turning still as marble, my heart pounding. But it resumes and I blow out my cheeks.

Finally, I slip out of the room, giggles bubbling in my mouth. But I clamp a hand over my lips, sealing them in until I fling open a balcony door, and unite with the night and wind. Only then, do I let them out. The singing breeze joins me in my glee and carries the sounds up into the cosmos.

--

We begin our small regiment in the dungeons. Reeking of rotten things and dried bones, we know it's the one place the Red Movement and the sirens will not visit.

"So, why are we here?" Ruben quirks a brow, casting a wary glance between us all. He stands in the corridor of the cells, a few feet from me. I rest my back against the cool stone wall opposite him, twirling my dagger over and over.

Ajax perches on one of the dungeon's wooden benches. He leans back, closing his eyes as if we were lounging around a pristine swimming pool. Edward lurks by the entrance, tapping his boot, glancing up the stairwell in the hallway every few moments, as if he's waiting to spot a pair of nosy eyes.

Aston leans against the doorway of a cell, gripping the hilt of his sword at his waist. "We need you to lead us, Ruben. You are commander, are you not?" His playful smirk is perhaps the only one that can evoke a smile from Ruben at this stage.

Ruben scoffs, but those lips tug into a smile. "Am I still your commander, brother?" he asks Edward.

Edward clears his throat, flinching at the fiery, pointed glare I send him. "Yes, Ruben. We could do with some... leadership variation. What do you suggest we do to keep our kingdom protected if the Red Movement attacks us?"

"Attack us?" Ruben blinks and I can practically see the gears shifting in his mind. He hangs his head. "Sorry. The brainwashing makes my mind a little fuzzy."

Edward sucks in a harsh breath. His cheeks splotching with pink. "We are weening you off now. You should have clarity of mind before too long."

I mouth a thank you to Edward, whose lips twitch upwards in a wisp of a smile. "It would help if we could prevent them from attacking in the first place, right?" I say, shifting my weight.