Read Online Necropolis (Royal Sorceress Book 3) by Christopher Nuttall - Free Book Online Page A

faster now, making it hard for her to see more than a couple of yards before her view was completely obscured. She had even less idea of where she was than she’d had at St Petersburg, where she might have been able to find help. There was no point in trying to run, even if he hadn’t implanted so many commands into her head that they were giving her nasty headaches. She gritted her teeth as she saw a door yawning open in front of her, then stepped through. It banged closed behind them a moment later, leaving the Cossacks outside.
    “They don’t mind the weather,” Ivan said, when she asked. “This is a light summer day for them.”
    “I don’t believe you,” Olivia said.
    Ivan snorted, rudely. “This isn’t that far to the east – or the north,” he said. “There are places further to the north where winter is always dark and cold – and snow is always to be found on the ground. We send rebels, traitors and dissidents there to count trees.”
    He smiled, as if he’d made a joke. Olivia didn’t understand. Ivan didn’t seem to care. Instead, he carefully removed her cuffs, freeing her hands for the first time in four days. Olivia rubbed at her wrists frantically, remembering horror stories about criminals who had been arrested and then forgotten about for a few hours. They’d sometimes lost their hands completely, simply because the cuffs had been too tight. Ivan hadn’t cuffed her that hard, but her wrists were still sore.
    “Get your coat off,” he ordered, as he led her into another room. The heat slapped her in the face, hot enough to make her sweaty and uncomfortable. A large bathtub, steaming furiously, was set in the middle of the room. “Get undressed completely, have a long soak, then walk into the next room. There’ll be new clothes there.”
    Olivia nodded, cursing her treacherous fingers as they started to undo the buttons on her coat, which was dripping with melting ice and snow. Ivan gave her a sharp look, warning her against doing anything stupid, then walked out of the door, leaving her alone. Olivia immediately tested the door and discovered, not entirely to her surprise, that it was firmly locked. The Russians clearly weren’t taking any chances with her. Cursing her mistake, in words that would probably have earned her a long lecture from Gwen, she finished undressing and climbed into the water.
    It was gloriously warm, warm enough to make her entire body relax. She had to force herself to get out of the water after what felt like hours and stumble into the next room. Inside, there was a large bed, a robe that reminded her of a dressing gown, and a set of combs and hairbrushes. She puzzled over the robe before realising that it would provide absolutely no protection at all, if she managed to get out of the building. It was just another chain binding her to the Russians, more subtle than the others.
    She pulled the robe on, then looked around. A book lay on top of a table, written in English, but she couldn’t parse out the words. It was probably something religious, she decided, as there was a cross on the front. But she had never had any inclination to follow a formal religion, not when too many of their priests preferred to tut-tut at people like her rather than do anything to help. There was a knock at the door and she turned, just in time to see a thin-faced woman with long dark hair pushing a trolley into the room. Olivia’s stomach rumbled as she smelt food.
    The woman said something Olivia didn’t understand, then removed a small bowl from the trolley and placed it on the table, along with a wooden spoon that looked absurdly small for its role. A moment later, she added a glass of brown liquid and a second glass, containing water, then bowed to Olivia and made her way out of the room. Olivia hesitated – it was easy enough to stick a drug in food – then shook her head and sat down in front of the table. If the Russians wanted to drug her, they could just have their