Page 90 of The Serpent Prince

But no one was there.

For a moment, Kiran merely stared down at her, an unreadable mask on his handsome face. Her chest warmed at such a look, but she steeled her cold heart.

He narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly, but then he jerked her forward, leading them through the maze of corridors unnoticed. His shifting mood didn’t go unnoticed by her; whatever patience he had for her these past few days had waned.

She moved forward at his bid and wondered how they were going to make it up the lifts and onto the train.

Yet, when they started going downward, deeper into the mountain, she knew they wouldn’t take the train.

“What will the dwarves think when we’ve escaped in the night?”

“Nothing,” Kiran murmured. “I’ve healed the high sentinel, thanks to your little outburst, and altered his memory. After a little chat, he has now given us express permission to leave immediately through … another means.”

“For what reason?”

“I claimed you were ill and needed to take you away from here immediately. No one will question him or the story—half of it is true, anyway.”

“And that will be the official story to the rest of the kingdom, as well? And your father?”

“Indeed,” he stated darkly. His voice held an air of excitement, yet she felt danger emanating from him. The feeling of safety he’d given her these past few days was melting away.

This was a job he needed her for, and she remembered the cold way he had informed her that it might be a death sentence.

Her hand stiffened in his, and she wanted to tug it away. But he held it firm, guiding her forward.

How in all of the Six Saints were they going to get out of here?

Imani missed a step and tripped when it dawned on her.

Strong hands held her waist steady as she braced herself against the wall. Her eyes shot to Kiran with fire burning in them. “Tell me how we are getting out of here.”

His mismatched eyes gleamed. A dark but familiar type of madness and menace swirled inside them. “Through a stabilized slip. One the dwarves have been hiding from the throne.”

Nausea started to churn in her gut. Memories of the last few slips she’d seen assaulted her. She didn’t even know stabilized slips existed, and she’d all but handed over the information to Kiran with the History of Royal Bloodlines.

It made her grind her teeth together. The Niflheim Kingdom had been dabbling in dangerous magic these past few hundred years. Dangerous, indeed.

She started trembling slightly as fear crept in. What if it sliced their bodies into pieces like it had her parents?

And why would the sentinel simply allow them to use such a well-kept secret?

Imani knew enough about how the world worked that suspicion took root.

“How did you manage to get permission?”

“I can be very convincing.”

She imagined a proverbial noose tightening around the sentinel’s neck, but Imani couldn’t worry about the deal that the high sentinel must have been forced to strike with the Serpent Prince that evening. Instead, she simply focused on her breathing as they made their way into a small chamber with a pair of large wooden doors.

The vibrations shook her bones. A mass of magic emanated from those doors.

“It’s behind those, isn’t it?” She was breathless.

Kiran barely looked at her, his eyes entirely focused on the doors. With his wand up, he muttered protective charms and cast them around their bodies. Imani could feel the silklike layers of protection wrapping around her and, suddenly, she couldn’t breathe.

With a few steps to the corner of the room, Imani bent over and threw up.

Kiran grabbed her roughly by the arm. His eyes held even more madness and menace in them than they had before. “Pull yourself together,” he snapped. “I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time, and I won’t have you ruin it.” His voice was a low warning.