"What?" Zaydan said, staring at her, then back at the body.

"I know her," Marie-Fey repeated, steadying her legs before pulling out of his grip and leaning over the body, holding the torch high. "I know that dress and jewellery. She's Ubah, one of the girls who was sent to your brother in the capital when I was visiting home. Why is she here? Why is she...?"

She spun towards the open door, stepping over the fallen body and sweeping into the darkness, holding the torch high and her fingers felt weak around the handle.

The echoes of her heels bounded out around her and just as she felt the floor drop out from under her, Zaydan's hand grabbed her arm and wrenched her back, the torch tumbling from her fingers.

It clattered away, hitting stone steps and they watched as it bounced down and down and down until it finally landed so far below the flame was tiny.

And then it went out and darkness prevailed.

They stood frozen in the void for a moment, then light flickered to their right and they looked back to see a torch on the wall jolted into life. Soon after another lit.

Then another and another until hundreds of torches were crackling with life and Marie-Fey felt the strength drain out of her. She sank back against Zaydan, using him to hold herself up for a moment, closing her eyes.

"Zaydan... what are we looking at?" she breathed out.

Zaydan didn't reply but she didn't need his answer. She knew a monster's lair when she saw one. She opened her eyes and shoved away from him, clasping her hands in front of her and facing scene ahead.

"Fey, let's go back," Zaydan urged but Marie-Fey lifted her skirts and marched down the long flight of stairs until she reached the bottom, snatched up the dead torch and finally looked around.

They were in a huge hall. The rock walls were smooth, the dozens of staircases patterned, the landings and balconies decorated with statues and ornaments. Books lay on tables and instruments stood on the floor. Chairs and tables were scattered around every level of the hall and everything was coated in a fine layer of dust.

Everything.

From the piano to the bodies.

Marie-Fey looked to her left, facing the remains of a long dead woman who had died wearing gold and diamonds.

She walked toward the body, which was sat in one of the armchairs, a book open on her lap. She stopped in front of her, pulling the book from the bones and it started to crumble in her fingers. Quickly setting it down, she looked at the face and jumped.

For a second, just a second, she saw the woman as she had been.

A beautiful young woman with black hair was fell all the way to the floor, her golden skin filled out around a full figure, the diamonds resting against her collarbone, and her blinking jade eyes watching Marie-Fey with knowing, cold pity.

And then it was just a set a remains again.

Marie-Fey backed away, her breath shuddering through her as she looked around her, turning again and again look at the... how many women were there?

Dozens.

Dozens!

And they weren't all sat neatly in a chair like the body before her.

She could barely stand to look at the bodies that hung by their necks from balconies or abandoned on the floors like forgotten dolls, dressed in clothes from every century, every country.

She tilted her head up and looked at one body, the dress a faded opal, the matching jewels hanging limp around the limbs.

It was her.

The ghost that had followed Marie-Fey.

Who had been trying to get her to stay away.

Who had finally led her here.

She hung from a balcony, the bones of her fingers still dug in against the rope around her neck.

And Marie-Fey watched as the body stuttered back and forth between decayed and whole. Again and again, she saw the woman she had once been, her flowing hair and translucent skin, dark eyes fixing on Marie-Fey before fading again.

She turned around and looked up the stairs again. All the way up until her eyes met Zaydan.

He sat on the top step of the main staircase, cheek in his palm as he watched her.

"You don't see very surprised," she commented coolly as she lifted her skirts and started to climb the stairs again, never taking her eyes from his.

"Neither do you," he returned, raising his eyebrows.

She smiled. "A hall of death right below my feet, I suppose I have yet to process the true horror of it. It takes a moment to accept that one's husband is a mass murderer." She titled her head, smile growing colder. "Unless it's my brother-in-law, of course."

He smiled in reply. "One would hope not, seeing as you're trapped down here, alone with your brother-in-law. That would be an awful bit of misfortune."

"A truly awful bit of misfortune. To survive so many encounters with death only to be killed by someone I actually trust," Marie-Fey replied as she finally reached him, passing him by.

He just smiled, keeping his eyes on the hall ahead. She turned and took a seat on the step beside him, glancing at him.

He was still smiling, but tears were silently rolling down his face and his eyes looked like they would never smile again.

"Why are you crying?" she asked softly.

"My brother is a murderer," he said with a bitter laugh, "And I knew this." He absently touched his neck with his free hand. "It doesn't matter that I can't speak about this, or that my memories play up, or that I can't remember everything all the time or know exactly what is going on. My brother is a killer, and it's never going to stop."

Marie-Fey drew in a breath, looking around again.

"We shouldn't have come here," Zaydan muttered, "We should go and pretend we don't know anything about it. We need to leave it buried and forget." He stumbled to his feet, pulling Marie-Fey up with him. He took the torch and relit it on one of the torches by the wall. "If my brother finds out that you know about this place..."

He shook his head and spun away, Marie-Fey pulling from his grasp, making him stop and look back at her as she continued to look out over the hall.

"Ever since I came here, I have not been liked," Marie-Fey said gently as she took in each and every forgotten face. "I was not accepted, and I did not try to be one with the women in my palace. But what I have always tried to do, whether they know it or not, is protect them."

She looked around, to where Ubah's body lay and she could imagine the girl that she had once been. How scared she must have been, how she must have screamed and cried, her deep red hair tumbling around her dark eyes as she had screamed for help from those above who had no idea she was below.

Ubah had been sweet. She had always maintained balance, never being drawn into the various factions. She had been funny and had never once attempted to undermine Marie-Fey's rule. She had been one of the first to trust Marie-Fey to handle an issue, showing the palace that she trusted their new mistress. She had been liked by all and had made the best of her situation. She should not have died in the dark.

"Many of the women here, I never knew them. But there are some I did, and I did not protect them. I failed them but there are many women still alive that I must look after. So, it is not about walking away and forgetting. It's not about pretending I don't know. Because I do know, and I am all that stands between them and this."

She clasped her hands before her, drawing in a long breath.

Then bowed.

"Fey," Zaydan said, reaching for her and she straightened, turning away.

"I don't want to end my days down here. I don't want anyone from my palace to end their days down here," she said, walking past, Zaydan following. "I have to somehow end the cycle."

She stepped into the hall, Zaydan walking passed, then looked back as the torches in the hall began to dim and die.

With one last glance at Ubah, she gently swung the door closed and pulled the key from the lock.

"But we don't know how to break the cycle, what do you plan to do?" Zaydan asked.

"My original plan hasn't changed," Marie-Fey said as they started to walk. "I just now have a better idea of what and who I'm facing."

"Your original idea?"

"Yes, remember? I'm going to the capital."