Mask of Poison (Fall of Under Book 1) by Kathryn Kingsley (great novels to read txt) 📕

“I don’t think he’s playing with a full deck of cards. I wouldn’t put much stock into that.”

“Clearly not, no.” Aon chuckled. “I appreciate your candid story. While there are clearly some painful details you omitted, I will allow them to remain private. We are finished for the night. Tomorrow, when you are rested, I will begin studying your bloodwork to see if I might understand more of precisely how you are made immune to the poison the drengil carry.”

That was a relief. At least she wouldn’t be tortured until tomorrow. “Thank you.”

He nodded once. “I will have one of my servants take you to a room for the night.”

“Not where you’re keeping everyone else?”

“No. I wish to keep a closer eye on you, Ember.”

“Why?”

“I have a trap to set for my dear old friend.” The featureless black metal mask turned to her. “And simply put…you are my bait.”

22

“You plan to use her as what?”

Ember sat on the window bench seat of Aon’s enormous library. She wanted to stay far away from the conversation. It wasn’t that she had a problem with any of the kings or queens who sat at the King of Shadow’s table, she just didn’t…feel like she had any business being there.

She had slept all right, all things considered. Aon had put her up in a room that was easily the fanciest and most expensive thing she could have imagined. The bed was big and fluffy—almost too much so. The bathroom was lavish. Everything was gilded in gold, silver, or copper. When she had climbed out of the tub, she had found a pile of clothes on her bed. Which was odd, because she had barricaded the door.

They have magic. The chair I shoved under the doorknob wouldn’t stop them.

On it had been a simple note. “I cannot have you wandering about my home looking—and smelling—like a common street urchin.”

It hadn’t left much room to wonder about who had written it.

She dreaded to see what he had left for her. She expected something flouncy and utterly impractical. But what she found instead was a perfectly functional, clean set of clothing that would be easy to move in and comfortable to wear. And the boots he had given her actually fit. It was immensely generous of her host.

Even if everything was all black.

The leather coat that he had given her had a great deal of zippers and little pockets. She sat on the bench seat and couldn’t help but fiddle with them. She had so many places to hide and tuck things. The pocket watch that Maverick had given her was already hidden away safely.

There were only a few things she refused to part with. A few scraps of fabric here and there that she tied onto her new leather belt or tucked into her bag of supplies.

Everyone here is so quick to give things away. A knife from Lyon, a pocket watch from Maverick, and new clothes from Aon. She frowned. She was quickly finding herself in debt to them. She disliked owing anyone anything. But it seemed Aon had thought of a way for her to pay them back.

“You heard me, Lyon. There is no need to shout.” Aon’s tone was terse and cold.

Lyon stood from the table to pace around the room, his white clothing looking once more out of place in the darkness that surrounded him. “You cannot use her as bait. You are ensuring that she dies a terrible death.”

“That is likely. But she will serve the greater good by doing so.” Aon steepled his fingers in front of his face. “By baiting the trap, she might yet save the lives of thousands.”

Maverick sighed heavily and sipped the glass of wine that had been given to him. “We all know you are not one to value the individual life over—”

“Over what, Elder of Words?” Aon interrupted. “Over the lives of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? Millions, perhaps? Yes. You are right. I will sacrifice one mortal life to save Under. If that makes me cruel, so be it.”

“Have you asked her opinion on the matter?” Kamira asked. She was sitting sideways in the chair, her long, bare legs kicked up over the wooden arm. Her back was resting on Lydia’s arm. The two were clearly close friends. “Maybe the mortal should get a say in whether or not she’s put onto the rat trap like a slice of cheese.”

“The mortal has no say in the matter.” Aon gestured his hand dismissively. “She is mortal.”

“What say you, Ember?” Lyon asked her.

Ember froze, not liking it when the room was focused on her. Ini, Aon, Maverick, Lyon, Lydia, and Kamira were all staring at her. Creatures that were so much bigger than she was. So much more powerful.

So much more permanent.

“He’s right,” she muttered. “I shouldn’t get a say.”

Lyon furrowed his brow. “Pardon?”

“I don’t—” She reluctantly spoke up. “I shouldn’t get a say. Look at you all. Ancient, powerful creatures defending an ancient, powerful world. Who am I? I’m twenty-three. I’m from a world that’s already dead and gone. And my world brought yours a plague. If I can help stop it, so be it. I’m a fruit fly compared to you. I’d die from tripping over a rock and getting eaten by a plant if I were left to my own devices. Maybe this way my life can mean something.”

“Finally, a mortal with some sense.” She could hear the smile in Aon’s voice. “It’s taken long enough.”

Lydia smacked his arm.

“Why her?” Lyon shook his head and sat back down in his chair. “I do not understand why Rxa is fixated upon her.”

“As far as I can reason from the story she has told me, he might have imprinted on her like a baby goose.” Aon rested his clawed hand on the arm of his chair, running the sharp and pointed tips over the carved surface. “She showed him his first taste of compassion after returning from the grave. Coupled