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Less than an hour later, he was dead

It is that saht me to the lowest levels of the castle today—?a heartbeat as close and intiainst my own ribs

I follow the deep ba-bueons, stopping when a gaping black hole appears at rate is as thick and solid as a coiled snake

At first, I think it a hatch to the river that runs nearby Or perhaps—?wrinkling my nose—?the sewer Until the next heartbeat reverberates through , deep ba-bump I never feel the heartbeats of others unless they are close to dying That is when I finally understand the nature of this pit

It is an oubliette

A dungeon designed specifically for those who do not even warrant the mercy of a clean death

Nameless dread that cannot be explained by the presence of death thruh me My hand clenches I should turn and walk away Return to the suhtly lit rooms of the castle proper

I a ready to do just that when the heartbeat stops The pressure ininto the very h me, as if the world itself has just been torn in two

And then the pressure stops Is si of the wind

“Who’s there?”

The croaked question shatters the absolute silence, causing me to leap back The dead do not speak

Oubliette To forget

If it were called by any other name, I could turn and walk away If it were empty, it most assuredly would hold no interest for otten That he is dying—?well, there is no way I can ignore it now While I was sired by the god of Death and sent to His convent to train in His arts, I have had precious little opportunity to explore them since I have left

“Who are you?” The voice is low and hoarse, but it is the co tone of it that startles an answer from me

“No one A shadow” My words float down into the darkness on the barest exhalation of breath Hopefully he will think theht but a fevered dream as he lies at Death’s door

There isto look up A moment later, I hear him ris

ing to his feet I scramble back from the hole, my footsteps quick and silent

When I am well away froh the labyrinth of underground corridors to the main floor of the castle

Who are you?

His question followsman has looked into ued me for the last year

Who, by the Nine, am I?

When I finally reach the main section of the palace, I pause to brush off e my face into the bland, subservient mask I have worn for the past five years, then step into the warht

Oddly, it is far colder against eon

Chapter 2

Sybella

Rennes, Brittany

One Week Later

he loss of ates, as if I’ that he will return But of course, he does not Even so, like one of the restless souls that still hover where their bodies fell, I hover in the shadows of the gate and stare out at the empty field beyond

No Not empty A sing wholly formed froreen and glisten with bright red berries Holly has always been sacred to Mortain

Beneath theup like toadstools after a rain—a silver coin, loaves of coarse brown bread, a cos, a black ribbon The branches are ru love to the forlorn, health to the sick, and peace to the dying It is the last that I find od of Death, after all

I have often wondered why od bid me live when I sank to the bottoo He did not just whisper encouragement in my ear, but put his cold hand uponarms of one who loved me