Chapter 12

The men arrived at Eldridge Hall just after dawn on the fifth day of their journey. They’d made better time with the horses, with Colin and Nico riding the stallion and Branson—the slightest of the three of them—on Locket, whose hoof was healing well. The weather had turned even harsher the last couple of nights, but the fur coats helped. Nico had even let Branson borrow his a few times, preferring to suffer the cold than Branson’s complaining.

They set up camp in the woods facing the castle walls. They hadn’t bothered to try the gates. They could see from here that they had been soldered shut, and they were far too high to climb. But if anyone was alive at Eldridge, there was a way in.

“What’s the plan?” Colin asked as they unpacked their bags.

Nico was fumbling with numb hands to start a fire. “Why do you always assume I have a plan?” he asked over his shoulder, wondering if “wait for someone to find us” would satisfy Colin.

“Because you always do. We can’t just force our way into the castle. We have to assume they’ve got ways to keep people out.”

“I doubt anyone has tried in years,” Branson said. “If there is someone alive in there, they’re most likely weak and starving. And probably desperate for company.”

“How do you manage to make everything sound sinister?” Colin asked. “If they wanted company, they’d have come out.”

“Not if they’re alone and afraid.”

At last, a spark caught, and Nico carefully stoked the flames until he had a decent blaze going. Then he went to tend to the horses—Colin had named the black stallion Wolfbait, which Nico had promptly changed to Wolfgang to spare the horse’s feelings—and made his way to the edge of the woods, to get a better view of the castle.

He found himself searching for the tower Crane had mentioned. There, that had to be it: a tall, spindly thing that looked like it would come crumbling down at any moment. If someone was alive in the castle, what were they doing up there? He was too far away to make out if the windows were boarded up, as Crane had said.

He studied the rest of the castle, impressed by its sheer size. The walls were nearly twenty feet high, impossible to climb. No wonder the king had locked himself up here; it was a veritable fortress. There was no chance of the plague getting to him or his family as long as they remained locked inside. He shuddered at the thought. Anything could be a cage under the right circumstances, even a castle.

“We should split up,” Nico said when he returned to the camp to find Branson lounging on his bedroll and Colin attempting to heat water for tea. “The castle is enormous and we’ll cover more ground separately.”

“I’ll stay with the horses,” Branson volunteered. “Wouldn’t want a wolf to get them.”

Nico and Colin rolled their eyes at each other. “Just make sure the fire doesn’t go out,” Nico said. He knew Branson likely wouldn’t have been useful anyhow.

Carefully, Colin and Nico made their way across the open field to the castle walls. When they reached it, they followed the perimeter, looking for a way in. Every now and then Colin would try his hand climbing the wall, using a promising crack or odd-shaped stone for a foothold, but he never made it more than ten feet up.

They’d rounded the first wall and were headed along the west side of the castle when Colin held a hand up. Nico heard the voices a moment later.

They pressed themselves against the wall because there was nowhere else to go. It was a man and a woman speaking, their voices low but not whispers. The man said something that made the woman laugh, and it was not the laugh of someone trying to conceal herself. Colin pointed forward and began to creep along the wall. Nico followed, crouched low and trying not to breathe too loudly.

Fortunately, there was a bend in the wall here, and they were able to conceal themselves behind it. Colin poked his head out, just far enough to see. He was so tall that Nico didn’t have to crouch down to see below him.

“Can’t believe the chef asked us to get more swans,” the woman said. “As if five wasn’t hard enough to come by.”

“Princess Imogen must have swans for her birthday feast,” the man said in a mocking tone. “Think they’ll figure out these are geese?”

“Not a chance,” the woman said. “Those people are like vultures at a carcass every time they get fresh meat.”

Finally, they came into view, walking toward Colin and Nico from the forest. Both were carrying large sacks over their shoulders.

The sight of two people walking and talking as if everything was normal stirred something deep within Nico, and for one disorienting moment it was as if he was back in his old life. Then Colin pushed him back farther into the recess they were hiding in and the moment ended.

“He wants to impress the Pilmandish prince,” the man said, “as if he could possibly make it here. These royals have no idea what the roads are like, what with all the wolves come down from the mountains.”

“This is the last run,” the woman said with a snort. “I’m not coming back to the castle after the ball tonight. Now that the plague is gone and we’ve got the trade established, those pretty lords and ladies can rot in there for all I care. Princess Imogen most of all. What kind of person demands a masquerade ball when most of the country is dead of disease and starvation?”

“If they don’t rot here, they’ll rot in hell, that’s certain,” the man said.

The talking faded as the people disappeared. Nico and Colin waited a few minutes before coming out of their hiding spot and walking to where the servants had gone. Sure enough, there was a narrow opening there, as if someone had pried away the stones one by one. From far away, you wouldn’t even see it. Colin slid through easily but Nico had to turn sideways and suck in his breath to keep from brushing against the walls.

Colin immediately scurried to an overturned wagon and crouched down behind it, Nico following close behind. The servants were crossing the large open space that separated the castle walls from the keep itself. It was an ancient thing, several hundred years old at least, and looked almost primitive compared to Crane Manor.

As Nico took in his surroundings, a sense of dread washed over him. Hand-painted signs had been hung here and there, warning people to turn around, that the castle had been hit by the plague. Lies, undoubtedly; just a desperate measure to keep people out. The servants walked past the signs, chatting away, and didn’t even balk as they passed the gallows, where several skeletons hung, scraps of tattered clothing still clinging to the swaying forms.

Aside from the servants, the entire area was deserted. Crane Manor was practically brimming with life in comparison. There was nothing growing here, no signs that anyone ever left the castle. But the servants had referred to those people, which meant Eldridge Hall wasn’t deserted at all.

And that Lord Crane was right.

“Did you catch what the man said?” Nico whispered to Colin. They watched as the servants disappeared into an unassuming wooden door. Could it really be that simple?

“Which part?”

“They mentioned something about establishing a trade, which means there are survivors elsewhere. Things really are returning to normal.”

“What do you make of the wolves?”

“They must have seen signs of predation, but it didn’t sound to me as though they understood what they’d really seen.”

“What do we do now?” Colin asked. “Should we follow them?”

“I don’t think so. From the sound of things, we’ll be greatly outnumbered.” A wave of pure hatred swept over Nico. To think, all this time, the king was alive and well, holding court over a bunch of lords and ladies who ate swan and held balls while the kingdom lay under a blanket of death and decay. He hoped someone didsteal the throne, even if it was Crane. He was no more a monster than King Stuart. “But there’s to be a masquerade tonight, and they’re expecting a prince we know is never coming.”

Colin arched an eyebrow. “So what are you suggesting? That one of us sneaks into the ball?”

“We know the way in. Once we’re there, we can assess the situation.”

“We?” Colin laughed. “You may be able to pass yourself off as a prince, but I never could.”

“Fine, I’ll take Branson.”

“And what about telling the master?”

As disgusted as Nico was with the king and the princess and everyone else inside the castle, the idea of telling the master about potential immaculates trapped in one place made his stomach turn over. “I think we should wait until we know what we’re dealing with.”

A rustling sound caught Nico’s attention and he turned to where they’d entered the wall, but there was no one there.

“I’ll stay with the horses and keep an eye out, but I won’t be able to help you once you’re inside,” Colin said. “We’ll need a story. As soon as they hear you talking, they’ll know you’re not a foreigner.”

“Then I’ll try not to speak. At least not until I have to.” He knew very little about Pilmand, other than that it was in the north and that their largest export was fur, which helped explain their cloaks.

“Fine. But what are we going to do about a costume?”

Nico glanced around the courtyard. There was a pile of refuse near the gallows that looked promising. After all, the garbage from the castle had to go somewhere.

As they rummaged through the discarded odds and ends, they found plenty of threadbare ladies’ gowns, old slippers that were worn through on the soles, and a thousand soiled handkerchiefs. With the right materials, they may have been able to create a mask out of some scraps, but they had no needle and thread. Besides, aside from sewing sutures, Nico had no experience as a seamstress.

He sighed. “This is hopeless. I’ve got the prince’s fur cloak, and that will have to be enough.”

“You need to play the part of a prince, and you need to blend in,” Colin said. “You certainly can’t wear that.” He jerked a thumb toward Nico’s filthy tunic and breeches.

“I think Branson took some of the prince’s clothing from the trunk. We can wear those.” Nico sat down on the edge of a wheelbarrow and leaned back on his elbows. He was exhausted from traveling. The idea of pretending to be a prince right now seemed impossible. He nudged what looked like a dark tarp aside to make room and froze.

At first, he thought it was a massive bird’s skull and nearly jumped out of the wheelbarrow. But then his brain caught up with his eyes and he laughed. Beneath what was in fact an oilskin cloak lay a brown leather mask with an elongated, beak-shaped nose and two eyeholes. A plague doctor’s mask.

Colin joined Nico as he held the mask aloft. They both shuddered at the sight of it. A few years ago its presence would have meant imminent death. The doctors had all died or fled within the first few months of the plague, but perhaps the king had kept one around just in case the disease managed to find its way into the castle.

“If you show up in that, they’ll definitely kill you,” Colin said.

“We’ll have to disguise it a bit. Paint it black with tar or something.” He looked up at the castle again, wondering what he’d find inside. “We’d best get back before someone catches us.”

Colin followed him out through the hole in the wall and they hurried across the fields toward camp. Every now and then Nico glanced over his shoulder to look up at the tower where Crane had seen the candle. Who was it up there? Some poor servant, no doubt, trapped by a selfish king and his spoiled daughters. Tomorrow he would find that person and rescue them, somehow.

“Oh, bollocks.”

Nico turned to look at their camp. Or what was left of it. There was no sign of the stallion, or of Branson. The white ermine cloak was gone, along with the blankets they’d stashed in the hollow tree. The only thing left was a pair of the prince’s breeches and the sable cloak, which Colin had tucked high up in a tree out of Branson’s reach.

Nico thought back to the rustle he’d heard inside the castle walls. Branson must have followed them and overheard their conversation.

Which meant he knew there were people living in Eldridge Hall, and that Nico was planning to enter. This was Branson’s opportunity to prove his loyalty to their master, to earn himself a place in Crane Manor for the rest of his life.

Nico gazed into the forest, his stomach sinking to his feet. “He’s gone to tell Crane.”

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