Night of Masks and Knives (The Broken Kingdoms Book 4)
Night of Masks and Knives: Book 3 – Chapter 37

“Malin?”

My name hung between us. I froze. Bard looked murderous. But I had to wonder why he was here. He’d been speaking of bartering for the release of . . . he could only mean Hagen.

Bard cared?

Out of my two stepbrothers, Bard Strom was not a man I would consider caring. Doubtless he had more affection for Hagen than he ever had for me, but enough to come and try to buy him back? In all the different ways this night could shift, a sudden appearance by my stepbrother was not one.

Lynx cleared his throat. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. This is my cousin, Freya Hakan. Come along, Freya.”

″Lord Strom,” Niall said, his voice lest wistful, less filled with longing as he darted his gaze between Bard and me. “I am in no mood for business tonight. Your brother has been purchased anyway.”

″Purchased?” Bard’s face flushed. “By whom?”

″My Lady,” was all Niall offered before he dragged me to the door.

″Malin.” Bard snapped. “What are you doing?”

I turned over my shoulder. ”Herr, forgive me, but I am not this Malin.”

Bard’s eyes flashed dangerously. “I’ll figure it out, little mouse.”

″Strom.” Niall’s voice could be commanding, almost frightening. It was enough to shut Bard up. “You will respect the lady and step back. Or you will join your brother in chains.”

Bard had no time to respond before another familiar face joined the circle. Eero bowed his head, looking a great deal like a Black Palace servant in his blue coat and black trousers.

This was not his mark. He was to aid Niklas at the walls, then the boathouse for our escape.

″My Lord,” Eero said. “The Lord Magnate would have a word with you and the lady’s cousin.”

Lynx gave a subtle shake to his head which Eero returned with a subtle nod.

Plans were shifting.

″I will not leave Freya to fend for herself in this crowd,” Niall protested.

″Yes, My Lord. I am here to escort the lady to the dais to speak with your mother until you return.”

Niall seemed ready to protest, but repulsive as he was, no one would gainsay the Lord Magnate. Not even his son.

The same reason Lynx would be expected to leave without question. He would need to replace a way to escape the Heir Magnate without too much suspicion.

″Until we see each other again, My Lord,” I said, shrinking beneath Bard’s glare. I took a step toward Eero.

Niall kissed the top of my hand. “I look forward to it, My Lady.”

Lynx left me with a sharp glance. A silent warning that I better keep myself alive until the Kryv could regroup.

″Malin,” Bard hissed.

″Leave. Do not say another word,” I snapped in a harsh, raw voice. “Do not interfere.”

I must’ve stunned him. His mouth clamped shut.

In truth, I was almost positive that was the most Bard had heard me speak to him at one time and in such a way. Even when he’d abandoned me to the skydguard at House Strom, I had not snarled at him.

Eero took us outdoors. We avoided the crowds. I knew we would not head for the dais. What was the point when we had Hagen? At least, I hoped all had gone well. It would be time to prepare our exit.

″Eero, what’s happening? Is all well with the Falkyns? The Kryv?”

″Yes,” he said, picking up his steps to a near run. “Everyone is where they should be, but we had to adjust. I’m to lead us to the boathouse by another route.”

″But what of Lynx?”

″He’ll replace another way.”

It didn’t seem so simple. Kase meticulously planned this night to the very step we would all take. Such a fast change, when I was not even certain Kase knew Bard had unraveled pieces, seemed odd.

He would not take the shift well, and I had a feeling he would not want to do such a change without eyes on each other. Right now, I had no idea where Kase was.

″Malin, in here,” Eero said, holding back the flap of a gold tent.

I should’ve questioned. Should’ve paused. But I simply followed.

My mind spent less than three heartbeats taking in the scene. Filled with glamorous gilded ribbons, velvet tapestries, and a runner made of woven lace. In the center was a polished wooden box without a lid. On a satin pillow within was a glass ring, black runes embossed on the edges. By the gods, this was the tent for the queen’s ring.

Surrounding the box—five skydguard.

Their eyes were not on protecting the precious ring that would never fit anyone. No. Their eyes were pinned to me.

″This the one?”

I startled at Eero’s forceful hand. The Falkyn gripped my arm, digging his fingers into my skin until I winced. “This is her.”

″Bring her here.”

″Eero.” I resisted. “No. What are you doing?”

Eero was unrelenting. Where I resisted, he dug in deeper, dragging me forward. I tried to drop to the ground, hoping to break his hold, but two skydguard added their hands to my body.

I fought, clawed, bit. Panic seized my heart with cruel hands. Eero had turned me over to skydguard. Why? Why would he betray his guild, why risk betraying the Nightrender? Whatever plan he had must be worth the risk.

I scratched one of the guards across the face. His blood and flesh lodged beneath my fingernails. The skydguard cursed me, then struck my face with his closed fist. My head spun. The cloying fetid taste of my own blood burned my tongue.

The next move had me slammed against the ring box. A bright spark of heat filled my veins. As if mesmer churned inside me, begging me to fight back. How, I didn’t know, but I would fight until my last breath. I would not be another casualty of the Masque av Aska.

″Gods, look at that.” The skydguard who’d struck me said, aghast.

″What did I tell you,” Eero said. “You want to be honored by the Lord Magnate? Get a noble title in front of your name? Tell me this has never happened. He will honor you until your last breath.”

I cracked one eye. They’d bent me over the pillow, and below my nose the black runes along the ring were no longer black. They’d transformed into a fiery burn.

If the strange heat that had come to my veins had a color, it would be the burning runes.

What was this? The ring was a myth, a twisted game for the Lord Magnate to give folk hope they might be able to take his seat in the palace. All my life, I’d believed Ivar had forged the ring himself, but called it ancient.

If it was not of his making, why keep it? Could he not dispose of it? Did he use it truly to replace potential challengers to his power? A hundred questions wheeled through my head as the skydguard ripped me back and tossed me to the ground.

″It’s real,” he said.

″As I said.” Eero sounded irritated the guard held any sort of stun. “Put that ring on her finger and Ivar is ruined. Imagine what he’ll pay to wipe her from existence.”

″You coward,” I snapped at Eero. “You betrayed your people, your family.”

Eero shrugged. “Some things are worth it, Malin.”

″I am not a threat to Ivar’s throne!” I shouted. A lie. I had mighty plans to bring down the cruel rule of the Black Palace. But not to claim it for myself.

″The penge,” Eero said.

″There,” another guard pointed to a satchel near the back of the room. “Come with us and the Lord Magnate will stop hunting you. Give you position at the palace.”

Eero inspected the stacks of paper penge in the satchel and shrugged. “Perhaps I will.”

″Get her up,” said a guard. “Ivar will want to meet her.”

Before they could take a step, the tent flap flew open again. My heated blood went cold.

The Master of Ceremonies, still in his fool’s mask, stepped forward. “I will take this from here.”

The skydguard hesitated, they dipped their chins in respect. The one who’d struck me stepped forward. “My Lord, this woman is a threat to our Lord Magnate.”

″Yes, I’ve been made aware.” He lifted the box with the queen’s ring, then tilted his masked face at the guards. His altered voice crawled up my arms like a frigid wind. “Give me your names, your position, and the Lord Magnate will be made aware of your service, but you will be unable to speak the truth to anyone of the girl’s name, nor her connections.”

There was a spark in the air. Like a flare of heat. The skydguard, even Eero stared at the master with a touch of confusion. The Master of Ceremonies studied them from beneath his mask for a few breaths. What had he done to them?

With the skydguard and traitor befuddled, the master curled his gloved hand around my wrist and lifted me back to my feet.

I was as ice. Numb. Unfeeling. I moved with stiff, jerky steps as the Master of Ceremonies dragged me away to my fate.