Chapter 4

Slave child—

I woke to the smell of rust and something else, something that made my stomach twist. My head throbbed where the man dressed in shining metal hit me, and for a moment, I couldn't remember where I was. Then I felt the cold metal bars pressing against my back, the hard cold rocky floor beneath me, and it all came rushing back.

In a cage. I was still in a cage.

My eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness. Blue flames flickered from candles scattered around the room, casting shadows that danced like living things across the walls. The light was just enough to see the others huddled around me. I recognized some of the faces and others I didn't.

Maybe a dozen of us, maybe more. Some were crying softly. Others had gone silent hours ago, their eyes vacant and staring at nothing.

I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, trying to make myself smaller. Invisible. My white hair fell forward, glowing faintly in the candlelight. I hated it. It made me easy to see, easy to find. I tried to tuck it behind my ears, but strands kept escaping, bright against the filthy darkness of our prison.

"Another failure."

The voice cut through the whimpering. I looked up to see figures in dark robes standing around a circle drawn on the floor. The markings inside looked like dried blood.

I hoped it was just paint, but I knew better. In the center of the circle, something moved. Someone. They were sobbing.

My throat tightened. That could have been me. That would be me, soon enough.

"What do we do? This is the fifth one today." One of the robed men turned toward another figure standing apart from the group. Even in the dim light, I could see this one was different. His robe was white while the others wore dark blue, and something about the way he stood made everyone else seem smaller.

The man in white—the one they called "the sire"—stared down at the circle. His voice was cold when he spoke. "It doesn't matter. Keep trying."

The robed man tried to protest. "But, sire, we've done this countless times, and none have led to the result that the lord desires. If we kee—"

"I KNOW! DO YOU THINK I DO NOT PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT'S HAPPENING TO THIS SMALL VILLAGE, MY VILLAGE?"

I flinched at the fury in his voice. Several other children did too, pressing themselves harder against the back of the cage. The sire's shout echoed off the stone walls, and for a moment, everyone froze. Even the sobbing in the circle stopped.

The man seemed to realize what he'd done. He pulled back, tugging at his white robe, and leaned close to the hooded man. I couldn't hear what he said, but I saw him press a finger hard against the man's chest. Whatever it was made the robed man straighten up quickly.

"Yes, sire," the man responded, his voice shaking slightly.

Then the man dressed in white turned toward us.

My heart hammered against my ribs as he walked closer to the cage. His shadow fell over us like a blanket, blocking out even the meager blue light. I could feel eyes on us—his eyes—studying us like we were nothing more than tools waiting to be used.

"Fortunately for us," he said, his voice smooth now, almost pleasant, "we have willing volunteers to make our Lord's desires come to fruition."

Willing. The word made me want to scream. None of us volunteered for this. They took us from our homes, from the streets, from anywhere we could be grabbed without too much notice. But I kept my mouth shut. Speaking up would only make me the next one in that circle.

The girl next to me grabbed my hand. She was younger than me, maybe only seven or eight. Her grip was so tight it hurt, but I didn't pull away.

"Try again," the sire said, his shadow still looming over us. "We can always find more."

More. There would always be more of us. More children disappearing. More failures in that terrible circle. More sobbing in the dark.

I closed my eyes and whispered the only thing I could think to say, though I knew no one would hear me, no one would come:

"Somebody, help."

Fuko—

The keys jangled in my hand as I whistled a tune I'd heard in some tavern weeks ago. Two guards lay unconscious behind me in the alleyway, their armor clinking softly as they settled into the dirt. I didn't kill them—didn't need to. They were just doing their jobs, after all.

"I don't get it, why not just sneak into the castle?"

I glanced down at the black cat padding alongside me. I still couldn't believe I was having a conversation with a talking cat, but after everything I'd seen in my life so far, it was far from the strangest thing.

"Think about it," I said, spinning the keys around my finger. "I don't know how many knights are wandering around that castle right now. And also—"

"And?" The cat looked up at me, waiting.

I stopped walking and looked down at him. "Why are you following me?"

The cat's tail flicked in annoyance. "Like I said before, you and I have the same objective."

"And what might that be?" I asked, studying the little ball of fur. There was something off about this cat—too intelligent, too purposeful. Nothing in this village was ever as simple as it seemed.

"While you need access inside the castle to do whatever you're doing—" he waved a paw dismissively in my direction "—I need someone who will let me inside the castle with no questions asked."

"What do you need from the castle?" I asked, turning the corner into another alley.

"I said no questions asked!" the cat yelled back.

We continued walking in silence for a moment. I couldn't help myself.

"So, what do you need from the castle?"

The cat's head tilted, and I could swear I saw exasperation in those green eyes. "Isn't it obvious? I'll be talking to the king."

Wait, what? I blinked. "You're human, right?"

"Why do you ask?" I said, glancing back at him.

The cat's voice rose in pitch, dripping with sarcasm. "The castle is filled with guards and powerful weapons. Also, you killed and seriously injured a group of guards and knights. Not to mention you broke out of jail and are now wanted." His little paw grabbed at my cloth, shaking it back and forth with surprising strength. "You expect to walk in the front door and magically be granted an audience with this lord?"

I couldn't help but grin. "Who said I'd break in the front door?"

The cat stared at me for a long moment, then sighed.

I found a stack of wooden boxes and sat down, pulling out my water sack. The liquid was warm and tasted like leather, but it was wet. That's all that mattered. The cat watched me drink, his tail swishing back and forth.

"What are you looking for inside the castle anyway? Just tell me. It's not just the lord, but it's something else. I just know it. My cat instincts are telling me so."

I sighed, exhausted from the day's events, and looked up at the sky. The sun was setting, painting everything in shades of orange and red. "A knife," I said simply.

The cat's expression—if cats could make expressions—was pure confusion. "But don't you already have a knife on your waist?"

He pointed with his paw, and instinctively I covered the blades hidden under my dirty cloth. "Why break into a castle for a simple knife when you can buy one from the market?"

I paused, then corrected myself. "Actually, I'm looking for an angel."

The cat stared at me. "An angel? What does that have to do with a knife?"

I looked at him, wondering how much to tell. "Haven't you heard the rumors in this village? The real reason for the disappearances?"

"What rumors? What real reason?" The cat's head tilted again.

"The two are connected," I said. "The angel and the blade. Can't find one without the other."

I stood up and stretched, feeling my muscles protest. I'd been running, fighting, and hiding for too long. But I was close now. So close to finding what I needed.

Behind me, I heard the soft scrape of metal on leather. Battle-trained instincts kicked in before my mind even processed the sound.

"For our lord!" someone screamed.

I stepped to the right. A sword blade whistled past my ear, so close I felt the wind of its passage. The knight had put everything into that swing, committed fully to taking my head off in one clean strike.

"The knife of a thousand souls," I said calmly, watching as the knight struggled to pull his blade from where it had buried itself in the ground.

The knight's eyes widened beneath his helmet. Surprise. Recognition. Fear, maybe.

He tried to yank the sword free for another attack, but he was too slow. I grabbed his head with both hands and drove it down into the ground. The crack echoed in the alley. He stopped moving.

I straightened up and looked past the body, past the alley walls, to where the castle loomed in the distance. Its towers pierced the darkening sky like broken teeth.

"That's why I am here," I said, more to myself than to the cat.

"The lord that talked to an angel."

The key to everything. The reason children were disappearing. The reason this kingdom was rotting from the inside out.

And it was somewhere inside those walls.