Sweet Innocence and Gentle Sin || 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

Chapter 34: Cinder and Smoke

You'll ask me to pray for rain, With ash in your mouth, You'll ask it to burn again

~)(~

For a long time, I thought the worst climate was the Winter Court, with all the snow and ice threatening to kill your body and the blinding of any light reflecting off the frozen liquid. But there was nothing quite as bad as trying to walk through a swamp in the Spring Court. Snow didn't stick like mud and didn't weigh every inch of clothing like tar.

The buzzing of fireflies and croaking of frogs filled the air with a frenzy of sound making it impossible to listen to the happenings of the building. With the empty sky and lack of moon, we had the advantage of darkness, but still—was it worth trudging through a marsh?

Kat went first, reaching the backside of the manor before the rest of us. The plan was simple. The four of us would get in and lock down a part of the house before signaling the rest of the soldiers inside.

After an uncomfortably long time standing in knee-deep mud and murky water, surrounded by dragonflies and the possibility of a water snake getting too close, Kat signaled the rest of us to the south window. To get on the dry hill was like stepping on a cloud, and though I would've loved to relish in the solid ground beneath my feet, I had a job to do.

Slowly, the four of us filed into the kitchen. One door was open and spilling candlelight from the tight hallway into the foyer, and another across the room opened into servant stairs. The hallway door was quickly shut and bolted with spells for good measure.

Kyra and Cassius searched through the room for any signs of lingering magic of traps, and when they gave the all-clear, I stepped up to the window and removed one of my gloves. It was easy to imagine the electric power surge through my palm, illuminating my skin like sunlight. In response, a small light waved from the edge of the forest.

Now, for step two of the plan.

I opened the thin door to the stairwell and the others followed behind, matching each careful step I took to avoid creaking. Once at the top, the real test began. The servants' corridors looked like a torture hallway.

Obviously, this house had been empty for a long time, as I had to brush away a few cobwebs blocking the path and nearly sneezed a cloud of dust. But that wasn't the problem. Nails stuck out of the walls, rusted and sharp.

Poking through every board of rotten wood, from head to foot. Some were small, others as long as my hand. It was a slow twist around lines of metal to get from one side to the other. Every breath had to be calculated, every movement of an arm or leg required a careful look around.

We were just reaching the end of the hallway when I heard, like a screech of glass, the tearing of fabric. I bit my lip at the sharp sting of pain as a nail dug into my thigh. Blood oozed into my pants and down my leg.

I bit down on my hand, the taste of leather filling my mouth, and tried to pull away from the wall, ripping more skin as the nail moved. But the metal caught the fabric of my pants. Fuck.

I tried again, this time harder, and the loud tear of fabric echoed as a slab of wood I was standing on creaked at the sudden weight and the nail made a springing sound. Everyone stopped moving. The house was still around us, not a peep of noise, not even from the swamp outside.

Seconds ticked by, and my heartbeat steadily subsided. It was fine—totally, perfectly fine.

The door was thankfully silent as it opened into the actual upstairs of the house, dark and empty. I looked down at my leg and saw the healing already clotting it—good. I didn't need a trail of red behind me tonight.