Shadow Touched (Editing)

58. NAIMA

The journey back to Castle Mirador is tense. We cautiously make our way out of Welland's estate but encounter no more Shadow-Touched. The house's sudden silence makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I suspect none remain in the estate—they've been called away. It's exactly as Grey predicted. Solditch will attack at the Jubilee—perhaps already has. It was so obvious.

Finch decided we should stick together. The four of us ride back through the dark, the only sound of hooves pounding against the dirt road.

We make it back to the Castle as quickly as possible. Keaton and Vipes stolen steeds, nowhere near as fast as Chaos and Aiolos, the only thing holding us back.

As soon as the Castle looms into view, I can't hold back. I whisper to Chaos to fly, and she does. I think I hear Finch call my name, but if he does, I ignore him. Chaos rushes through the Mynah, bringing us to the Castle's wide open gates. There are no guards, no revellers.

A thrill of terror shoots up my back and over my shoulders.

I jump from Chaos as Finch skids to a halt on Aiolos. He dismounts, his feet hitting the ground silently. He takes in the scene before us. Keaton and Viper pull up alongside him.

"The air is chilled," I say. I don't bother to keep my voice low.

"Loosen your weapon," Finch replies. "And keep your eyes on the Shadows.

~*~

Running at top speed, we round the long corner leading to a hidden entrance just left of the ballroom's main entrance.

There's no music. No rumble of hundreds of voices as they gossip, flirt, dance and drink. Royal balls are staid affairs, but never to the point of silence.

A creeping sensation begins to form in my stomach; it settles in its pit like lead.

Finch and I reach the ballroom, Keaton and Vipes trailing us, their feet echoing in the big, deserted hallway.

The side door is open, and the artful display of pocket flames illuminating the ballroom burns brightly, framing the scene unfolding within.

Grey stands on the dais, resplendent in his black bat costume. His pale skin glows in the soft light. He looks out into the crowd, a living, breathing shadow.

He looks more at ease than I've seen him this past week. He is confident, proud, powerful, and beautiful in his darkness. His eyes, filled with casual disdain, sweep the crowd, flicking from face to face until they snap forward and to the doors, finding me.

I stifle a gasp. They are black pits. There's no smoky haze, no battle between the ocean blue and the darkness within. He's given in to the Shadows, into the Gloaming's power. The change in his demeanour is proof of his submission.

At the sight of me, he smiles big. It's devastating in its beauty. And terrifying in its coldness.

"What are you waiting for?" King Vincent's voice rises in surprise. He makes a half circle, looking at the guards. "Do as your King commands and arrest the Prince!" His eyes are wide with incredulity. He doesn't understand these aren't his men.

Grey watches with casual interest. His smile widens as the realization hits his father.

"Greyling," He says, the prince's name a plea on his lips.

Grey laughs. It rings through the room, cruel and full of menace.

"You fool," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "You arrogant old fool." He laughs again, his eyes shining with malice.