Authors: Sarah J. Maas
The nausea returned. She hoped Elena wouldn’t speak of what her heart refused to remember, hoped that the queen wouldn’t mention what she had spent so long forgetting.
“Something evil dwells in this castle, something wicked enough to make the stars quake. Its malice echoes into all worlds,” the queen went on. “You must stop it. Forget your friendships, forget your debts and oaths.
Destroy
it, before it is too late, before a portal is ripped open so wide that there can be no undoing it.” Her head whipped around, as if she heard something. “Oh, there is no time,” she said, the whites of her eyes showing. “You
must
win this competition and become the King’s Champion. You understand the people’s plight. Erilea needs you as the King’s Champion.”
“But what is—”
The queen reached into her pockets. “They must not catch you here. If they do—all will be lost. Wear this.” She pushed something cold and metallic into Celaena’s hand. “It will protect you from harm.” She yanked Celaena to the door. “You were led here tonight. But not by me. I was led here, too. Someone wants you to learn; someone wants you to see . . .” Her head snapped to the side as a growl rippled through the air. “They are coming,” she whispered.
“But I don’t understand! I’m not—I’m not who you think I am!”
Queen Elena put her hands on Celaena’s shoulders and kissed her forehead. “Courage of the heart is very rare,” she said with sudden calm. “Let it guide you.”
A distinct howl shook the walls and made Celaena’s blood icy. “
Go
,” said the queen, shoving Celaena into the hallway. “
Run!
”
Needing no more encouragement, Celaena staggered up the stairs. She fled so fast that she had little idea of where she was going. There was a scream below, and snarling, and Celaena’s stomach rose in her throat as she hurled herself upward. The light of her chambers appeared, and as it neared, she heard a faint voice cry from behind her, almost in sudden realization and anger.
Celaena hurtled into the room, and saw only her bed before everything went dark.
•
Celaena’s eyes opened. She was breathing—hard. And still wearing her gown. But she was safe—safe in her room. Why was she so prone to strange, unpleasant dreams? And why was she out of breath?
Find and destroy the evil lurking in the castle indeed!
Celaena turned on her side, and would have gladly fallen asleep again were it not for the metal that cut into her palm.
Please tell me this is Chaol’s ring.
But she knew it wasn’t. In her hand lay a coin-size gold amulet on a delicate chain. She fought against the urge to scream. Made of intricate bands of metal, within the round border of the amulet lay two overlapping circles, one on top of the other. In the space that they shared was a small blue gem that gave the center of the amulet the appearance of an eye. A line ran straight through the entire thing. It was beautiful, and strange, and—
Celaena faced the tapestry. The door was slightly ajar.
She jumped from the bed, slamming into the wall so hard that her shoulder made an ugly cracking noise. Despite the pain, she rushed to the door and pulled it tightly shut. The last thing she needed was for whatever was down there to wind up in her rooms. Or to have Elena show up again.
Panting, Celaena stepped back, surveying the tapestry. The woman’s figure rose up from behind the wooden chest. With a jolt, she realized it was Elena; she stood just where the door was. A clever marker.
Celaena threw more logs onto the fire, quickly changed into her nightgown, and slid into bed, clutching her makeshift knife. The amulet lay where she had left it.
It will protect you
. . .
Celaena glanced at the door again. No screams, no howls—nothing to indicate what had just happened. Still . . .
Celaena cursed herself for it, but hastily attached the chain around her neck. It was light and warm. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for sleep to come, or for a clawed hand to snatch at her, to decapitate her. If it hadn’t been a dream—if it hadn’t just been some hallucination . . .
Celaena clutched the necklace. Become the King’s Champion—she could do that. She was
going
to do that, anyway. But what were Elena’s motives? Erilea needed the King’s Champion to be someone who understood the suffering of the masses. That seemed simple enough. But why did
Elena
have to be the one to tell her that? And how did it tie to her first command: to find and destroy the evil lurking in the castle?
Celaena took a steadying breath, nestling farther into her pillows. What a fool she was for opening the secret door on Samhuinn! Had she somehow brought all of this upon herself, then? She opened her eyes, watching the tapestry.
Something evil dwells in this castle . . . Destroy it . . .
Didn’t she have enough to worry about right now? She was going to fulfill Elena’s second command—but the first . . . that might lead her into trouble. It wasn’t like she could go poking about the castle whenever and wherever she pleased, either!
But—if there was a threat like that, then not only her life was at risk. And while she’d be more than happy if some dark force somehow destroyed Cain, Perrington, the king, and Kaltain Rompier, if Nehemia, or even Chaol and Dorian, were somehow harmed . . .
Celaena took a shuddering breath. The least she could do was look in the tomb for some clues. Maybe she’d find out something regarding Elena’s purpose. And if that didn’t yield anything . . . well, at least she’d tried.
The phantom breeze flowed through her room, smelling of roses. It was a long while before Celaena slipped into an uneasy sleep.
The doors to her bedroom banged open, and Celaena was on her feet in an instant, a candlestick in hand.
But Chaol took no notice of her as he stormed in, his jaw clenched. She groaned and slumped back onto her bed. “Don’t you
ever
sleep?” she grumbled, pulling the covers over herself. “Weren’t you celebrating into the wee hours of the morning?”
He put a hand on his sword as he ripped back the blankets and dragged her out of bed by the elbow. “Where were you last night?”
She pushed away the fear that tightened her throat. There was no way he could know about the passages. She smiled at him. “Here, of course. Didn’t you visit to give me this?” She yanked her elbow out of his grasp and waved her fingers in front of him, displaying the amethyst ring.
“That was for a few minutes. What about the rest of the night?”
She refused to step back as he studied her face, then her hands, then the rest of her. As he did so, she returned the favor. His black tunic was unbuttoned at the top, and slightly wrinkled—and his short hair needed a combing. Whatever this was, he was in a rush.
“What’s all the fuss about? Don’t we have a Test this morning?” She picked at her nails as she waited for an answer.
“It’s been canceled. A Champion was found dead this morning. Xavier—the thief from Melisande.”
She flicked her eyes to him, then back to her nails. “And I suppose you think
I
did it?”
“I’m hoping you didn’t, as the body was half-eaten.”
“Eaten!” She crinkled her nose. She sat cross-legged on the bed, propping herself on her hands. “How gruesome. Perhaps Cain did it; he’s beastly enough to do such a thing.” Her stomach felt tight—another Champion murdered. Did it have to do with whatever evil Elena had mentioned? The Eye Eater and the other two Champions’ killings hadn’t been just a fluke, or a drunken brawl, as the investigation had determined. No, this was a pattern.
Chaol sighed through his nose. “I’m glad you find humor in a man’s murder.”
She made herself grin at him. “Cain
is
the most likely candidate. You’re from Anielle—you should know more than anyone how they are in the White Fang Mountains.”
He ran a hand through his short hair. “You should mind who you accuse. While Cain is a brute, he’s Duke Perrington’s Champion.”
“And I’m the Crown Prince’s Champion!” She flipped her hair over a shoulder. “I should think that means I can accuse whomever I please.”
“Just tell me plainly: where were you last night?”
She straightened, staring into his golden-brown eyes. “As my guards can attest, I was
here
the entire night. Though if the king wants me questioned, I can always tell him that you can vouch for me, too.”
Chaol glanced at her ring, and she hid her smile as a faint line of color crept into his cheeks. He said, “I’m sure you’ll be even more pleased to hear that you and I won’t be having a lesson today.”
She grinned at that, and sighed dramatically as she slid back under the blankets and nestled into her pillows. “Immensely pleased.” She pulled the blankets up to her chin and batted her eyelashes at him. “Now get out. I’m going to celebrate by sleeping for another five hours.” A lie, but he bought it.
She closed her eyes before she could see the glare he gave her, and smiled to herself when she heard him stalk out of the room. It was only when she heard him slam the doors to her room that she sat up.
The Champion had been
eaten
?
Last night in her dream—no, it hadn’t been a dream. It had been real. And there had been those screeching creatures . . . Had Xavier been killed by one of them? But they’d been in the tomb; there was no way they could have been in the castle halls without someone noticing. Some vermin probably got to the body before it was found. Very, very hungry vermin.
She shuddered again, and leapt out from under the blankets. She needed a few more makeshift weapons, and a way to fortify the locks on her windows and doors.
Even as she readied her defenses, she kept assuring herself that it was nothing to worry about at all. But with a few hours of freedom ahead of her, she brought as many of them with her as possible as she locked the door to her bedroom and slipped into the tomb.
•
Celaena paced the length of the tomb, snarling to herself. There was
nothing
here that explained Elena’s motives. Or what the source of this mysterious evil might be. Absolutely nothing.
In the daytime, a ray of sunlight shone into the tomb, making all the dust motes she stirred up swirl like falling snow. How was it possible that there was light so far beneath the castle? Celaena paused beneath the grate in the ceiling, peering up at the light flowing through it.
Sure enough, the sides of the shaft shimmered—they were lined with polished gold. A
lot
of gold, if it meant reflecting the sun’s rays all the way down here.
Celaena stalked between the two sarcophagi. Though she’d brought three of her makeshift weapons, she’d found no trace of whatever had been growling and screeching last night. And no trace of Elena, either.
Celaena paused beside Elena’s sarcophagus. The blue gem embedded in her stone crown pulsed in the faint sunlight.
“What was your purpose in telling
me
to do those things?” she mused aloud, her voice echoing off of the intricately carved walls. “You’ve been dead for a thousand years. Why still bother with Erilea?”
And why not get Dorian or Chaol or Nehemia or someone
else
to do it?
Celaena rapped a finger on the queen’s pert nose. “One would think you’d have better things to do with your afterlife.” Though she tried to grin, her voice came out quieter than she would have liked.
She should go; even with her bedroom door locked, someone was bound to come looking for her sooner or later. And she highly doubted that anyone would believe her if she told them that she’d been charged with a
very
important mission by the first Queen of Adarlan. In fact, she realized with a grimace, she’d be lucky if she weren’t accused of treason and magic-using. It would certainly guarantee her return to Endovier.
After a final sweep of the tomb, Celaena left. There was nothing useful here. And besides, if Elena wanted her to be the King’s Champion so badly, then she couldn’t spend all her time hunting down whatever this evil was. It would probably
hurt
her chances of winning, actually. Celaena hurried up the steps, her torch casting odd shadows on the walls. If this evil was as threatening as Elena made it seem, then how could
she
possibly defeat it?
Not that the thought of something wicked dwelling in the castle
scared
her or anything.
No. It wasn’t that at all. Celaena huffed. She’d focus on becoming King’s Champion. And then, if she won, she’d go about finding this evil.
Maybe.
•
An hour later, flanked by guards, Celaena held her chin high as they strode through the halls toward the library. She smiled at the young chevaliers they passed—and smirked at the court women who eyed her pink-and-white gown. She couldn’t blame them; the dress was spectacular. And she was spectacular in it. Even Ress, one of the handsomer guards posted outside her rooms, had said so. Naturally, it hadn’t been too difficult to convince him to escort her to the library.