Chapter 92. Stone Remembers

Shadowfang had always smelled like iron and rain. Tonight it smelled like teeth.

Kael moved through the servants’ spine—a narrow corridor threaded behind the great hall—counting breaths, counting bodies. The inner ring held, but “holding” is a polite word for bleeding in a circle and calling it strategy. He could taste the rig’s bite still sparking his left side. He didn’t limp. Not where anyone could see.

“Door,” someone hissed.

He put his palm to the wood. Warm. Breathing on the other side. The old hinges sighed like an insult. He stepped back, lifted two fingers.

The door opened into an arrow. He turned his head and let it whisper past his ear. The Vesper captain who’d loosed it was already reaching for a second—good form, bad luck. Kael’s blade was faster than breath. The captain folded like a man who’d remembered an appointment elsewhere and didn’t want to be late.

“Count,” Kael said, not looking back.

“Eight. Three walking wounded. One that