The Marked Girl Read Online Free

others to be quiet and then poked his head around the corner of the entryway.
    Another wrath stood there in the hallway, holding a large sword. Its posture was relaxed, as though it didn’t expect any trouble.
    With one hand, Cedric gripped the handle of his borrowed knife. With the other, he reached under the collar of his nightshirt and pulled a golden chain from around his neck. On it sat a betrothal ring, one he’d worn since he was a child. He shot a look of apology to Kat, who wore its twin, before tossing the ring to the ground on the other side of the entryway. Cedric held his breath as the ring clattered against the stones.
    â€œWho’s there?” The wrath’s footsteps echoed as it made its way nearer. As the creature approached the entryway, head turned toward the ring, Cedric ran up from the other direction and thrust the knife up under its ribs. He saw its head whip around and its coal-black eyes widen in surprise before it fell tothe ground in a bulky heap.
    Cedric threw the bloodied knife to the ground and picked up the fallen wrath’s sword, as well as his betrothal ring. He signaled the others, and the group moved into the dark hallway. From the main corridor, Cedric could hear shouts and yells. The original wrath guards were waking up.
    The stone walkway tilted downward, and the air grew colder as they moved closer to the dungeons. Finally, the dark bars of the cells came into view.
    The first person Cedric saw was his father. The man was well over six feet tall, with arms thick as the massive rafters that ran across the dungeon ceiling. He was the kind of king that men wrote songs about—and Cedric would know, as he’d been forced to listen to most of them. But now, King James swayed unsteadily on his feet, his left leg twisted at an awkward angle. Dried blood covered the left side of his pale face and matted his beard.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” the king rasped.
    â€œWe got away from the wraths—”
    â€œAnd you did not get your sister to safety immediately?”
    Cedric tried to swallow the flicker of disappointment that ignited at his father’s harsh words. “I’m freeing you,” he said.
    The other royal children moved to their own parents’ cells, and Cedric heard a chorus of relief and fear as hands clutched hands through the bars. Emme reached out for their mother, who was held in the same cell as the king. Emme’s long hair—the same deep brown color as Cedric’s—swung forward as she leaned her forehead against the bars of the cell.
    â€œWhere are the keys?” Cedric asked.
    King James met his eye. “Malquin has them.”
    Cedric shook his head, confused.
    Malquin wasn’t a wrath, but a man. He’d been known to haunt the city’s bars and sometimes disrupt royal events spouting drunken nonsense. He was a nuisance, but considered mostly harmless, and a few years before he’d packed up and left the city altogether to make his own way in the wilderness. Cedric could barely even remember what he looked like.
    â€œHe led the wraths here,” the king continued. “He calls himself their leader.”
    Cedric struggled to wrap his mind around his father’s words. Malquin? Leader of the wraths? It was so . . . nonsensical. But then again, so was a wrath invasion of the castle.
    â€œWhere is Malquin now?” Cedric asked. He looked down at the thick metal padlock that hung from the cell door. The steel sword he clutched was no match for it.
    â€œYou have to run,” the king said. “Leave us, and go.”
    Cedric shook his head. “No.”
    The queen pulled away from Emme and turned to Cedric. Tears tracked down her bone-white cheeks. “You must. Take your sister and the others. Get free of here. Get help.”
    Cedric looked back toward the entrance of the dungeons.
    â€œYou cannot go that way. Hundreds of wraths surround the palace,” the king