The room was just as opulent as all the others. Something glistened in the dark as South cracked open the door wider. The light from his torch found a shimmering cage that took up half of the space. Inside, it was empty, but there were all the accoutrements of a royal bedroom. There was a four-poster bed made of gold. Tapestry-laden silk bedding. Hand-painted furniture. Why would the Queen have a cage decorated with such care?
Someone was living here.
“I don’t understand,” South said. “The dungeon is downstairs . . . What does the Queen keep in here?”
“Or who?”
“Maybe it’s someone else like me, someone affected by the Entente,” South said.
“But why would they be locked up?”
“She keeps all the Fallen in the dungeon. This doesn’t make sense. The bars are made of a metal I haven’t seen before. It’s not Black Glass.”
“Magrit kept you away from the rest of the guards?” I asked.
“Initially. Once I proved myself, she moved me to regular quarters. I haven’t been back since,” South said, his voice even. “Most of the Fallen weren’t capable of service.”
I digested this, horrified. How long had South spent in the dungeon? What had that done to him?
“Oh, South,” I said, but South wasn’t interested in my sympathy. He was focused on the cage, still trying to figure it out.
“Could it be someone with magic?” he asked.
“The Entente are gone, remember? This doesn’t make any sense.”
“Not us . . . ,” South said. “The Rookery.”
I laughed. “The Rookery hasn’t been seen in a hundred years. And the Rooks wouldn’t dare come to the Hinter, where magical beings are massacred.”
“Then give me another explanation.”
“A pet bear? A mountain lion? I don’t know. You’ve seen how crazy Magrit is.”
“I don’t know either,” he said, frustration wrinkling his brow.
“We don’t have time to figure it out now,” I said.
“No, we don’t. You need to change,” he replied, not moving from the cage.
I waved him away.
“Right, sorry!” South apologized and backed out the door.
Alone in the bedroom, I slipped into the guard’s uniform. It felt strange to be so covered. The Couterie and Shadows usually bared their shoulders no matter the temperature. The fabric was stiff and a size too large. I had to fold the waist of the pants to make them stay up. Despite the looseness, wearing the uniform felt more constricting than any corset.
I was wearing the same uniform as those who had killed my mother. I took a look in the glass and exhaled, reminding myself why I was doing this. Hecate. The Entente. All that we’d lost.
“Farrow! Hurry up,” South whispered from outside the door.
When I emerged, his eyes met mine. There was a sadness in them. He understood better than anyone how it felt to wear the clothes of the enemy.
Suddenly a noise sounded close by. It was mournful and strained.
“Did you hear that?” I asked.
“I think it’s coming from in there,” South said, nodding toward the door to the next room.
“Maybe we should ignore it. It’s not what we came for,” I said.
There was another moan and a knocking sound.
“Someone is in pain,” he said, his hand on the knob.
“You and I are the only two people alive who I care about, and I’m not completely sure about you,” I said, putting my hand over his.
“The Entente believed in helping all of Hinter, not just themselves,” he countered firmly.
“And look where it got us . . . ,” I warned.
South pushed a shoulder into the door, and it opened with more force than he’d intended. Together, we toppled to the ground inside.