Bailey Baz's Arc

Chapter 22 of 44

Tyrek pulled the last of the rope free. "They're coming," he said. Above them, boots hammered the palace stone. Bailey stood dripping, the broken locket cold in his fist. The King had felt his power die, and now horns sounded through the halls. Every guard in the palace was hunting the intruder below. If Bailey stayed near the flooded chamber, they would corner him against the water. "We run," Bailey said. He shoved the locket into his coat. Tyrek led him up a slick stair into a corridor of torn banners. Shouts echoed behind them. Ahead, a side passage opened onto a courtyard choked with weeds. Across it stood a small stone chapel, its bell tower cracked, its windows shattered. "There," Tyrek said. "No guards use it. They think it's cursed." They slipped inside and pulled the warped doors shut. Dust hung in broken light. Bailey pressed his back to cold stone and breathed. The boots passed the courtyard and faded. For a moment he let himself believe he was safe. Then a figure stepped from the shadow behind the altar. A mask of gold and black hid the face. A dagger rested easy in one gloved hand. "The King sent me for the thief," said Severyn Nightshade. Their voice was calm, almost bored. "He did not say the thief would be a boy." Tyrek lunged with his rope. Severyn moved without hurry and struck him aside. Tyrek hit the wall and slid down, dazed. Bailey drew his sword. The blade shook. He had spoken freeing words all his life, not swung steel. "You broke his power," Severyn said, circling. "He can feel it gone. That makes you the most hunted thing alive." The dagger flicked toward Bailey's throat. He stumbled back over broken pews. Bailey did not raise his voice for a fight. He raised it for the truth. "He killed the heirs before me," he said. "He stole their years to live forever. I set them loose tonight. He is only a man now." He held up the cracked locket, its red seal split. "You served a thief. Not a king." Severyn stopped. The mask tilted. "Show me," they said. Bailey opened his hand. The empty locket lay there, its stolen light gone. Severyn studied it a long moment. Then they sheathed the dagger. "I have watched him age this night," they said quietly. "His hair grayed at the throne. I wondered why." They stepped back into the shadow. "I will not die for a dying man. But others will still come, prince. Do not linger in this room." Severyn slipped through a gap in the wall and was gone. Bailey pulled Tyrek to his feet. The assassin had not saved him. But the King's own killer had turned away. Bailey wiped the blade and looked toward the courtyard. The horns still sounded. The King was mortal now, and afraid, and Bailey had to reach the throne before the fear made him worse.