It was the gateway.
By the Sire. The vortex watch gets charged and the gateway starts to shake. That can’t be a coincidence. The Tsar must have built some kind of back door to the totem ring inside the watch. Now that his totem ring was fully charged, the Tsar must be able to access its power somehow. Just like the bone crawlers in the cave with Rowan—he could be using that power to escape. I pulled out the vortex watch. It still showed the time as midnight. None of the power appeared to have gone anywhere. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, after all.
Or maybe the Tsar is coming.
“I’ll be back as soon as I’m able.” I took off for the door at a run.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I paused at the end of another dungeon passageway. This time, the hall branched off into three different directions. Gods-damn it. Which way do I choose? Tension tightened up my neck and shoulders. How long had I been searching for the way back to the gardens? Too long.
Closing my eyes, I tried to pull in magick to me. Perhaps I could cast another seeing sphere. Power loomed in the air, but I was too worn-out from my fight with the Vicomte. I touched the vortex watch in my pocket. Should I use this?
I shook my head. Too risky.
A low rumble shook the floor. My heart lurched in my chest.
That could be the Tsar.
I had to get help for Ada, Veronique, and the other Necromancers. The way out of these dungeons must be close. Trouble was, all these stone corridors looked identical.
Everywhere I went, I found drifting cobwebs, burned-down torches, heavy shadows, and little vermin that scritch-scratched away. So far, my plan had been simple: choose any path that seemed to slope upward and have some kind of light.
Please let it work this time.
Kneeling down, I rested my palm against the dusty rock floor of each passageway. Of the three directions before me, the first seemed to slope up slightly.
That’s the one.
I rushed forward into the semidarkness. With every step, my dress felt heavier. Sweat trickled down my spine.
Finally, the passageway ended in a thin metal door. With trembling hands, I yanked it open. A stone staircase rose up before me. Fresh air drifted across my cheeks. Yes. I jogged up the steps and into the gardens beyond. Night air never tasted so sweet.
I sped through the hedges and trees until I saw the mansion’s windows blazing with candlelight. The warmth of hope spread through my chest. At last. I rushed through the deserted garden paths and toward the castle’s side entrances. Pulling open the heavy wooden door, I stepped into one of the lesser reception chambers. The place looked empty. I’d barely gotten past the threshold when Philippe stepped toward me. “Elea, are you all right?” Although he wore a black mask, there was no mistaking the tight lines of worry on his mouth and chin. “You’ve been gone for ages.”
“I’m fine. Where are the Casters?”
“You’re not fine. You lost your mask.”
I patted my cheeks. The red silk mask was indeed gone. “That’s the least of my concerns.”
“And you have blood on your throat.” He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed gently at my neck. “You want to see the Casters? No one will let you anywhere near Rex or his people looking like this.”
It took everything I had not to push him over and run. “It’s only a little blood.”
“And dirt. And cobwebs in your hair. We’re at a ball for Royals, remember? Do you really want to attract the attention of the guards and Fantomes?”
I pressed my palms against my eyes. Guards, I could handle. Fantomes were another matter entirely. By the Sire. In all the excitement, I forgot that the Vicomte sent the other mages back to the ball. They’d seen me in the dungeons. As far as they knew, the Vicomte was alive and wanted me dead. If any of them saw me up here, they’d attack on the spot. The least I could do was not walk in a frightful mess and attract undue attention.
“You’re right, Philippe.”
He gave me a toothy grin. “I’m always right.”
“Can you fix me? Amelia did all this.” I gestured awkwardly across my hair and torso. “I’ve no idea how it works.”
Philippe winked. “Fortunately for you, making disheveled women look presentable is one of my finest skills. Seems to come up all the time.” He began dusting me off with his handkerchief, smoothing back my curls, and rearranging the folds of my gown. It took forever. Eventually, he stepped back and admired his work. “There you go. Presentable.”
“What about my mask?” Even the servants were wearing them.
“Once again, I came prepared.” He pulled another red silk mask from the pocket of his longcoat. I could have kissed him. He winked again. “I figured yours would have a short lifespan. Fancy things always seem to fall apart when you’re around. In fact, I’m shocked that you still have shoes.”
“Amelia made me enchant them onto my feet.” That woman already knew me too well.