I slide the knife out of my thigh holster and, with a sudden jab, drive it into the leg of my captor. The person releases me, letting out a high-pitched cry that reveals them to be a woman. I whirl around, blinking as my eyes adjust to the darkness.
The slats in the roof let in minimal light, but I can make out the silvery hair of a woman slightly shorter than me, dressed in all black and wearing a harlequin mask that covers the top half of her face. She's small and slight, and shouldn't pose much of an issue if a fight is what she's after.
"What do you want?" I demand, tightening my grip on the knife. Blood drips from its tip, splattering onto the scuffed wooden floor. My eyes dart around this roomâit's a large, empty warehouse with only the light peeking in through the slats in the weathered roof and walls to illuminate it. I can't see an exit in the dimness, which makes every hair on my body stand on end. I don't want to kill this person, but I'm cornered.
"I'm here on behalf of the Lord of the Underworld," the woman says, her soft voice carrying through this empty, open building.
I stare at her eyes, a light gray that reminds me of the Silver Prince's. They glimmer like his, too. "He sent you?"
She nods. "Call me Grey. I'm here to check on your progress."
I'm not foolish enough to trust her. "Why should I tell you anything?"
"Because I know who you are. Nyx Madden, the Shadow Thief. I could turn you in if I wanted."
The smugness in her tone makes my blood boil. "Victor must have told you that."
With an infuriating smirk, she says, "And who do you think told Victor?"
"You're his spy, then?"
"Something like that."
"Let me see your face," I demand, "and then I'll trust you enough to tell you what you want to know." In truth, I have no choice but to tell her anything she wants, especially since she's dangling my identity over my head like bait on a fishing line. The fact that Victor knows my identity has left me feeling precarious and on edge, but since he needs my help, I'm certain that he won't turn me in. Not if I do as he says. Grey, however, is far more unpredictable. I'm not sure how strong her ties to Victor are, nor how loyal she is to him. If she values my reward money over her service to the Lord of the Underworld, there's nothing stopping her from marching to the castle and telling the king who the Shadow Thief really is.
I can't let that happen. I would have to leave Durnwall, the town in which I was born and raised, and find somewhere else to start overâif the king's men didn't catch me first. What's more, I would have to leave my parents behind. I would never be able to visit the cemetery where their bodies were laid to rest again.
Grey nods. "Victor said you might ask for that." She reaches up and removes her mask, revealing a pair of large eyes and a petite, freckled nose on a youthful face. I doubt she's any older than me, though her hair is the same color as Blythe's.
"All right," I say through my teeth. "What do you want?"
Her thin-lipped smile is maddening. "Tell me what progress you've made, Shadow Thief."
It's unnerving to be called that when my face is uncovered and all of me is on full display. I despise how vulnerable it makes me feel, as though I'm standing naked in a crowded street. I hate Grey for this, and my irritation stretches to Victor for sending her here in the first place. He should have come himself.
"None," I admit. "The prince is a difficult man to get close to, and only eight days have passed thus far."
"Difficult for you, perhaps. The women at the brothels tell a different story."
Gritting my teeth until my jaw aches, I say, "Forgive me for not being as free with myself as they are."
"Yes, I can tell that you're very guarded. It's a valuable quality for a thief, especially a thief of shadows, but not so much for a seductress."
My cheeks flush. I am no seductress, but it's unfair of her to mock me for it. "Victor has given me a difficult task, but I've discovered how to accomplish it my way."
"I wish he had found another disenthraller, but even I have to admit that you're the best in Itoria. He had little choice, I suppose."
There's a hint of bitterness in her voice, and I realize that she's jealous. Disenthrallment is uncommon, made even more rare for being a gift that must be realized young and cultivated for years before one can become proficient at it. If a disenthraller doesn't practice their skills from youth, it can fade and be lost forever. As I watch Grey, analyzing her, I wonder if it's possible that something like this happened to her as a child. Aside from that, though, it's obvious that she dislikes me due to Victor's particular interest in my skills.
The thought of Victor sends a fresh chill down my spine.
It's only been a week, I remind myself. You have plenty of time left.
But that's hardly true. I have two deadlines now: three weeks left to steal the prince's shadow, and thirteen days to procure three drops of royal blood. I suppose if I can take the Silver Prince's shadow within thirteen days, I can simply tell him to give me three drops of his blood. Two birds with one stone.
Grey's voice softens as she says, almost sympathetically, "I'm sure it must be difficult to stay in that castle, among those careless aristocrats. There is none to whom you can relate."
"It's certainly not the most fun I've had since becoming the Shadow Thief."
This time, Grey's smile is slightly more relaxed. "I suppose you plan to spy on the prince."
"My skills lie in stealth," I admit. "Talking is a hurdle I have yet to master. And the Silver Prince is...impetuous and vain. I can barely stand to speak to him for longer than five minutes."
I can feel my flush darken as I remember those five minutes we shared in the rose garden last night. It was strange, how genuine his concern seemed when I pricked my finger on the flower he gave me. But then his attitude shifted so suddenly when he told me that I was not excused from his presence. I wish to purge the memory from my mind, but it still confounds me. Unlike most people I meet, the Silver Prince is almost impossible to read.
Grey runs a hand through her shoulder-length hair. "I've followed him into bars, but it seems he's been trained more intensely than most to conceal his thoughts. There must be something..." She trails off, shaking her head. "Never mind."
But she's piqued my interest. "Tell me." As I wait for her to speak again, I wipe my knife off on a long, ragged cloth that's been nailed over one of the warehouse windows. Then I sheath it, confident that Grey is not here to attack me.
"It's a mere speculation of mine, but I think he's keeping a secret. Something ruinous."
"I'm sure he has many secrets."
She shakes her head. "This is different."
I can tell that this is something that bothers her: the fact that she, like me, cannot seem to pick apart the Silver Prince. Despite our shared concern, this heartens me slightly. At least I'm not the only one. "I'll try to find out what I can."
"What is your strategy, so I can tell Victor?" she asks.
It wouldn't be wise to tell her about the Immaterial Ring, so I keep it to myself. I can, however, reveal my general plan. "I have a spell to turn myself invisible. This way, I can spy on the prince."
"As long as you're successful, I suppose it doesn't matter how you go about it."
"I'm always successful."
"So I've heard." Grey puts her mask back on, once again hiding most of her face. She backs into the shadows and mounts the window ledge that leads into the woods. Despite the wound I've given her, her movements are smooth and unhindered. "Goodbye, Nyx. I'll be watching you."
Then she's gone.
I return to Lockard Alley, shaking my head. Thankfully, Burr is right where I left her. And Blythe is with her.
Inwardly, I groan at the sight of Blythe in her copper hair rollers and shabby brown overcoat. She's stroking Burr's nose gently, despite the gritted-teeth anger on her face.
"You brought a palace horse here?" she accuses, running a crooked finger over the royal crest seared into the leather of Burr's saddle.
"No one saw," I tell her. "I made sure of it."
Blythe shakes her head. "You're going to get yourself in trouble, Nyx. You haven't been home in days. What exactly have you been up to?"
"Working." I have always let Blythe believe that I'm a simple, magicless thief because there's no point in hiding the obvious from her. She would have discovered my occupation eventually. What she doesn't need to know about are my powersâor that I am now involved with the Lord of the Underworld, perhaps the most dangerous person in Durnwall.
"You're going to get hurt," Blythe warns.
"Don't worry about me. I'm always careful." Brushing past her, I hurry into the building and back to my room. As quickly as I can, I change back into my green riding habit and hide my spare weapons under my bed once more. At first, I'm not sure where to put the ring. There are no pockets on this outfit, and it would be easily lost if hidden in one of my boots. Finally, I decide to string it on the chain encircling my neck, where it can keep my room key company.
The frigid black metal burns my skin. This won't be practical for very long.
Once I'm satisfied that I can pass as the duchess's niece once more, I head back outside. Blythe is thankfully gone, so I mount Burr and hurry into the forest without any more resistance, taking the roundabout way to the field beside the castle. Glancing at the sun's position, I guess that it's past noon already. I almost wish it was later; after all that I've done today, I'm eager for a good night's sleep.
I hand Burr back to the groom who saddled her for me and stride back to the castle. The scrutinizing glares of the guards do nothing to add to the discomfort that already plagues me, thanks to the pain of the ring pressing against my chest. I have to get to the duchess's room immediately so that I can remove it. From now on, I'll have to make sure I wear only gowns with pockets sewn into them. The pain of this enchanted band is almost too much to bear.
My pace quickens as I stride down the corridor towards the curled staircase, but I am abruptly stopped when Lord Dustin turns the corner. His leering smile makes its appearance the moment his eyes land on me, and I have to resist the urge to step backwards. While I'm not exactly frightened of himâI've taken on men like him and won easilyâhe does make me exceedingly uneasy. And, after the way I witnessed him speak to the Silver Prince, I suspect that he has nothing to lose.
The prince isn't the only one with secrets. Dustin is most definitely hiding something as well. It almost seems as though he's holding information of some sort over the prince's head, especially when taking into account the way he spoke to him last night.
"Lady Nyx. What a pleasant surprise. I figured you had gone to see the king with your aunt."
"Not today," I say. "I needed some air, so I went for a ride."
"Ah. I'm surprised, considering your little mishap last time."
Keeping my voice steady, I say, "I wasn't aware that you knew about that incident." He never mentioned it at all, and, of course, neither did I.
Dustin chuckles drily. "There is little that goes on in this castle that I am not aware of."
The implication of his words increases my unease. "Yes, I'm sure a man as important as you misses nothing."
"From the top of your head to the toes of your boots, there is not a single detail that I don't observe."
As his eyes fix on my feet, I look down as well. They're quality boots; perhaps not quite up to a duchess's standards, but for a duchess's low-born niece, I think they're suitable. Though two years old, they're in as good condition as the day I bought them. Since I am disinclined to spend money on more shoes, I take good care of the ones I do own.
I don't understand his problem with them. "I'm sure the king finds it useful to have someone like you around."
He nods. "Certainly. He comes to me for advice quite regularly, you know."
I want him to think I'm impressed by this, so I don't bother hiding my surprise. "Oh? I was unaware."
"Yes, well, I didn't wish to make my relationship with the king clear to you until we became better acquainted."
Offering what I hope is a coy smile, I say, "I hope I've gained your trust."
"Of course." His dark eyes glitter. "A girl as charming as you is most certainly not ill-intentioned."
Unlike the prince, Lord Dustin is easy to read. He doesn't find me charming, and he is suspicious of my motives. But he's still underestimating me. There is no part of him that believes that I could gain control over the prince for myselfâhe sees me as the duchess's pawn, perhaps. Does he know of her financial woes? It's certainly possible; she's not the most subtle of women, and Dustin is exactly the sort of man she would confide in. They seem relatively close, even if such a relationship is merely the result of their similar positions within the court.
One thing is clear, though: he's cripplingly jealous of the Silver Prince. And he thinks that I hope to wed him.
I nearly shudder at the thought. The duchess has staked her claim on the prince anyway, and I have no intention to stand in her way.
The ring, hanging against my chest, feels as though it will burn right through my skin. Eager to escape this conversation, I say, "It was lovely speaking to you, Lord Dustin, but I should change out of these clothes."
"Of course," he says, making no attempt to move out of my way. "I assume you used a gentler horse this time?"
"No; I rode Burr again."
Confusion spreads across his face, wrinkling his brow and the corners of his mouth. "Is that not the mare that threw you?"
"Yes, but being thrown once is not enough to dissuade me."
"It was not the fall, but the prince's mockery that I thought would dissuade you."
I frown. "Mockery?" The prince was irritating, yes, but he didn't mock me. Is he referring to the Silver Prince pointing out the blush on my face? Noâhe wouldn't have told Dustin about that. I don't think he would have told Dustin any of the details of our ride.
Dustin purses his lips. "OhâI apologize, Lady Nyx. I thought you knew."
"What do you mean?" My chest tightens. I already don't belong in this place; the prince has no business making it worse for me.
He sighs, shaking his head. "He spoke to me of how ridiculous you looked riding on Burr's back. It seems he found you to be rather lacking in skill. Then, he mentioned that you were rude enough to refuse a prince's hand to help you up after falling."
Indignance blacks out my embarrassment. "And why should I have accepted his help? He could have warned me about the horse, but he chose not to."
"I do admire your courage, riding Burr again. Prince Adrian is the only other person who does."
"Courage has little to do with it." There is nothing I fear, least of all a horse.
"Well, despite your bravery, it seems that Adrian doesn't have the highest opinion of you. Especially after last night in the rose garden."
The ring burning against my skin worsens my labored breathing. I know that I need to leave now, but I also want to hear the prince's twisted version of this incident. "What do you mean?"
"He thinks you uncouth, for disobeying his orders."
Continued pain makes me antsy, and I shift from one foot to the other. "I'm sure his retaliation is forthcoming."
Dustin scoffs. "I would advise you not to be so nonchalant about this. Offending the prince is subject to dire punishment."
He can't do much worse to me than what already has been done. "I'll await his punishment with bated breath."
"You are very spirited, Lady Nyx."
Were it not for the accursed ring around my neck, I would be able to laugh at this observation. "So I am told."
He watches me stand before him, practically trembling from the white-hot pain. "I can protect you from Adrian, you know. I have a great deal of influence over him."
It appears that I will have to spy on Dustin, as well. Whether this statement is true or not, I can see that he really believes in what he's sayingâand I'm not quite sure how to respond. "That's...reassuring."
"Someone has to keep him in check."
You're doing a terrible job of it. Aloud, I say, "I must go check on the duchess."
"All right, then." Finally, he steps aside. "I'll see you at supper."
"Yes," I mumble, rushing past him. It takes all my self-control not to burst into a full run as I climb the stairs. If there were not servants passing by, I would probably indulge myself and get to the duchess's room as fast as possible. It feels as though the ring has seared through my flesh, all the way down to my bones.
The room is thankfully empty when I burst inside. Immediately, I yank the chain over my head and unbutton my shirt, standing before the mirror to examine my skin. I brush my fingertips over my smarting flesh, shocked to see that there are no marks. How strangeâit feels exactly like a burn.
I cross into my own room and remove the ring from the chain before replacing it around my neck. My key falls into place, hanging beside my heart. It would be a convenient place to keep the ring, but unfortunately that won't be an option. For now, I place it in the bedside table's drawer.
This magic is dangerous, and potentially harmful. Part of me wishes I had found a different solution, but another part reminds me that I don't have much choice. I'm running out of time.