The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

had fallen before Pompay during the war. Good gods, that
meant…
I was in the Wastelands.
My heart thundered in my chest. How long had I been
asleep? Hours or days? I didn’t know where the Crypt of the
Forgotten Ones had been in the Skotos Mountains. For all I
knew, the crypts could’ve existed in the foothills of the
mountains, a half a day’s ride north of the outer reaches of
the Wastelands.
Throat dry, I lifted just my head to look around. Dozens
of the so-called Protectors stood in the center of what
could’ve been the castle’s Great Hall at one time and
around the edges of the decaying structure, all hidden
behind gleaming bronze masks. It was the kind of sight
conjured from the depths of the darkest nightmares. Was
Alastir among them?
In the darkness beyond the ruins, a single torch flared to
life. “They’re here,” a masked man announced. “The
Ascended.”
Air halted in my throat as several more torches caught
fire, casting an orange glow over heaps of fallen stone and
earth that had refused to house new life in the hundreds of
years that had passed. Shadows formed, and I heard the
sounds of hooves and wheels on packed earth.
“Believe it or not,”—Jansen drew closer, placing his
hands on the stone as he leaned over me—“I wouldn’t wish
your fate upon anyone.”
My gaze shot to his as anger coated my insides. “I’d be
more worried about your fate than mine.”
Jansen stared down at me for a moment and then
reached into the pocket of his pants. “You know,” he said,
lifting his hand now filled with a bundle of cloth, “at least
you knew when to keep your mouth shut when you were the
Maiden.”
“I’m going—” He shoved the wad of fabric into my
mouth, securing the ends behind my head and effectively