by JA Andrews
Roan scanned the area around them, watching the other people closely. Sini caught sight of the bakery and studied the old street, looking everywhere except the mouth of the alley. When they reached it, though, running alongside the tiny building that smelled of old, dry bread, she paused. The cluttered, narrow alley drew her gaze and she wiped her damp hands on her pants.
All traces of the old lean-to were gone. There was an enormous pile of trash against the bakery where her mother had knelt, watching Vahe drag Sini away. The stench was overwhelming.
Roan looked at her with an unreadable expression. “Tell me we’re not going in that alley.”
“No reason to.” Pushing old memories away, she walked to the front of the shop. It was smaller than she remembered. The building that had once seemed so permanent and sturdy was just a ramshackle shop. Catching sight of some motion inside, Sini pushed open the door and stepped in. After glancing up and down the dingy street, Roan followed her.
Mrs. Tanning stood behind the counter, her face set in the same scowl she’d worn years ago. She watched Sini and Roan with narrow, suspicious eyes. The back corner of the shop was covered with baskets, although few of them held any bread, even this early in the morning. Sini coughed as a dusty, floury smell hit her throat. She’d expected the sort of warm bread smell she found every morning in the Stronghold kitchen, the sort she remembered coming from this bakery when she was little.
“Good morning, Mrs. Tanning.” The woman’s eyes widened at her name. “You may not remember me, but I lived with my family in the alley behind your shop.”
Mrs. Tanning studied her before nodding. “I remember a ragged lil’ thief girl.”
Roan shifted in a threatening sort of way, but Sini stepped forward to ward off whatever he might say. “Yes, that was me. And I’m afraid I stole a good number of loaves from you during the time we lived there. Probably at least ten coppers’ worth.”
The woman pursed her lips. “I knew it.”
Sini reached into her pocket and pulled out twenty coppers. She set them on the counter. “I know that doesn’t make up for the difficulty I caused then, but I hope it helps now.”
Mrs. Tanning’s gaze flicked between Sini and the coins for a breath before she swiped them off the counter and tucked them into her apron. Her gaze softened slightly. “That’s very kind of ya’. I can see ya’ve done well for yerself.” She eyed Roan, her gaze lingering on his pants. “How’d you get a guard to marry a little street rat like you?”
Roan stiffened and Sini laughed. “Oh, he’s not my husband. You wouldn’t believe how highborn you need to be to marry him.” She gave Roan a grin that he returned with an annoyed look. “Mrs. Tanning, I was wondering if you knew where my family has gone. I haven’t seen them for…a long time.”
“Got too good for us folk, they did.” Mrs. Tanning sniffed. “Dunno where they stole the money from, but yer mother came to me and said she’d let a corner room above a seamstress’s shop—inside the city walls.”
There must have been more than coppers in that pouch Sini had snatched from Vahe the wayfarer the day he’d taken her. “Do you know where in the city? Or the name of the seamstress?”
She brushed her hands off on her dirty apron. “I don’t go inside the walls.”
Mrs. Tanning was no further help, and at Roan’s muttered urgings, they soon left. The trip had been all but useless. The worry she’d been holding all morning—for what she wasn’t quite sure—evaporated, leaving a sort of tired emptiness.
Roan examined every building critically, and at his request she took a short detour to show him one of the failed schools. The unfinished construction projects and broken cobblestone streets spoke for themselves. He grew more grim the more of the Lees he saw.
She followed busier streets out of the Lees and they reached the wide avenue leading back to the city gate with no additional excitement, at least externally. Internally, Sini’s mind was tumultuous. She remembered the Lees as dirty and hard, but the reality of the poverty was jarring. It left her feeling odd. She wanted to feel relieved to be out of it, but instead she felt…wrung out.
Free of the Lees, Roan pulled the multicolored cloak off with a grimace. She caught him watching her out of the corner of her eye. “Will you continue to look for your family?” he asked
Sini shrugged. “That they moved eight years ago to a corner room above a seamstress isn’t much to work with.”
“How do you know it was eight years ago?”
“Because that’s when—” She almost said, “they sold me.” But the words stuck in her throat. “When the Wayfarer took me.”
His face darkened and he shot a black look back at the Lees.
“It’s also when I stole a fat purse from Vahe’s belt and left it for my parents.”
He was quiet a moment. “You might not have to find them. Once word gets out that you’re here, they may find you. It’s not every family that lost a daughter named Sini who would be twenty.”
That was true, although the juxtaposition between her current position and her family was too complicated to sort out. Sini let her mind skip among old memories, finding few worth lingering on. They passed under the city gate and neared the palace.
“I’m sorry,” Roan said in a pensive voice.
She dragged her mind back to the present. “Don’t be. I didn’t really expect to find them. They were never the kind to stay in one place long.” And it was more than that. She felt…relieved. A little twang of guilt accompanied that fact.
“I meant I was sorry I misjudged you.” His expression was serious, as though he were confessing some grave wrongdoing.
He still walked next to her comfortably. Comfortable might be an exaggeration. He walked like a soldier on duty, but there was less formality about him than he’d had on the roof the night before. Something more at ease. Like a soldier whose commanding officer has stepped out of the room.
He clasped his hand behind his back. “I believe you’re the first person I’ve met who’s lived through real poverty, never mind slavery. You’re certainly the first person I’ve met who’s held such derision for an elite education.”
Sini winced. “I’m sorry about that. I was tired.”
“It was well-deserved. Being wealthy isn’t the only way to a good education.” He looked back toward the Lees. “I cannot imagine what you’ve been through in your life. My comments were ignorant and insensitive.”
Sini raised her eyebrows. His tone was still a bit lordly, but sincere. “Thank you.”
“I’ve been considering what you said about the Lees,” he continued. “Adding to that what I saw this morning, I’m going to suggest to the queen that we form a task force to look into how resources have been used there. Can I tell her you’re willing to help?”
The idea of fixing anything in the Lees felt nearly impossible, but if it could be done…
She nodded and Roan looked pleased. The idea of future children having a better life than she had felt motivational. Maybe there was something she could accomplish here in the capital.
They reached the palace gate and were waved in by the guards. As they entered the courtyard, his earlier formality reappeared, and he stopped talking.
“You were right about my map work last night,” Sini said. “I’d been merely tracking Lukas, not trying to discover what he was doing. So I revisited the information.” She hesitated. “It’s worse than I thought.”
He considered her for a moment. “That is unfortunate. You’ll appraise us all at the council?”
The question held enough command in it that Sini snorted and dropped into an exaggerated curtsey. “Of course, Lord Consort.”
A soldier rushed up and saluted, cutting off Roan’s annoyed answer. “Sir, you and Keeper Sini are required in the queen’s study immediately.”
It was far too early for the council. Sini hurried alongside Roan’s long strides, a knot forming in her stomach. What had Lukas done now?
When they reached the
study, the queen’s face was brighter than yesterday. Even Madeleine looked almost pleased.
Will greeted them with a wide smile. “An elf has been born!”
Chapter Fourteen
“Douglon sent a raven.” Will waved a slip of paper. “There’s a new elf!”
Sini took it.
Alaric,
It’s finally happened!
Come to the Elder Grove.
Bring Will and Sini. And anyone else who has any semblance of power.
Douglon
Postscript: This is no time for dawdling.
“You can’t all leave.” Madeleine sat at one end of the table dressed in a lavender dress, her hair braided into something crown-like.
Sini sat, too aware again of her own worn clothes.
“We need to,” Alaric said. “An elf has been born. This is something no one outside the elves has ever seen. And Douglon obviously needs help.”
“Nothing is actually happening right now,” Will pointed out. “We can be there in two days, back here in five.”
“We need to go,” Alaric said again.
“Of course you do,” Queen Saren said tiredly. “But hurry back. It feels like we’re running out of time.”
“They don’t all need to go,” Madeleine said. “Surely Alaric can see what is happening and report back to us.”
“Douglon asked for anyone with any semblance of power,” Alaric said. “Whatever has happened there, he and Rass need help.”
“We need help from the dwarves as well,” Roan pointed out. “It’s been almost a year since they gained control of Kollman Pass. If we’re preparing for any sort of war, we need access to that pass to make sure there are no threats from the Sweep.”
“More than that,” Alaric said, “Duncave stretches far to the south. Maybe they have a way into Gulfind that we don’t know about. Maybe Lukas and the dragon haven’t really made the country as impenetrable as they think.”
Saren nodded slowly. “Yes, it’s time to talk to the High Dwarf again.”
Madeleine waved her hand toward Alaric. “Your friend is a high-ranking dwarf, right?”
“Douglon?” He exchanged glances with Will. “Strictly speaking he’s high ranking.”
“How high?”
“Until Horgoth produces an heir, he’s next in line to the throne. But he may not be of much use to us. He’s spent most of his adult life trying to avoid that connection.”
“Wasn’t he wanted for treason at some point?” Roan asked, his voice unimpressed.
“A misunderstanding since cleared up.” Alaric waved off the incident. “But he and Horgoth still aren’t on the best of terms.”
“Well, tell him the rest of us would like to run off and live in the Greenwood too,” Madeleine said with a tight smile, “but we need his help. Have him get you access to the High Dwarf.”
Will laughed. “Our friendship with him might actually hinder our access to High Dwarf Horgoth.”
Saren’s brow creased. “Maybe you should find a different dwarf friend. Until you do, get something useful out of Douglon. Have him at least take you as far as one of those hidden dwarf holes.” She turned to Roan. “Go with them. You can see what’s happening with the elves, and then have Douglon take you to Duncave. You can speak for me to Horgoth. Find out what the dwarves know and get their support.”
Roan straightened, smoothing the look of surprise quickly off his face and bowing to her.
“Take a unit of guards with you,” she added.
“That many people will slow us down,” Alaric objected. “We’ll travel much faster alone.”
The queen leveled him with an unbending gaze. “No.”
“I can put together a small protective guard,” Roan offered.
The queen nodded reluctantly. “I want your ideas about troop deployment before you leave,” she told Alaric. “I’ll discuss options with the battalion generals while you’re gone. Does anyone have anything else urgent?”
Sini had almost forgotten about Lukas amidst the talk of elves. “I do,” she said before her reluctance to speak could grow.
Madeleine raised an eyebrow and all the eyes of the room turned toward Sini.
She cleared her throat and addressed the queen. “Roan pointed out that I’d been looking at Lukas’s actions as someone searching for a lost brother, and he was right.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Madeleine smirk. “I’d been trying to track him, and I was caught up in the idea that he was moving toward the moors in Gringonn. When I went back and looked at him as someone trying to weaken Queensland, a different pattern became obvious. I believe he’s refined ways to destabilize the country on several fronts.”
They listened as Sini explained how she thought Lukas had perfected ways to hurt animals and water sources. Alaric jotted down notes. Will dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his forehead. The queen’s face grew grim.
“If he’s moved on the gold in Gulfind,” Will said, “then he’s probably ready to move on the rest of his plans.”
A guard opened the door and offered the queen a sealed message. Her face darkened as she read it. “The Duke of Greentree”—Roan looked up at his father’s name—“has just sent word that there have been multiple dragon sightings over the past weeks.”
“In Greentree?” Roan demanded.
“No.” The queen looked at Sini, with a raised eyebrow. “Over the moors.”
Sini stared at her. “Doing what?”
The queen shrugged. “Flying. He’s attempting to get more information.” She dropped the paper on the table and looked over the group. “Hurry to the Elder Grove and then get the support of the dwarves.” Her brow wrinkled. “And see if this new elf is in any condition to help us.”
In her room, Sini found two letters. One from Rett telling her all about the tiny signs of growth in his lamb, and the other from the twins asking how she was weathering her first days at the palace.
Sini packed quickly and wrote off two quick notes back to them. She told Rett about the coming trip to see the new elf, and the twins about the palace, attempting to do so without too much complaining. She was fairly sure she hadn’t succeeded.
She was waiting for the others in the sitting room when Roan led in three soldiers. The first two were identically huge, identically muscular, and gave her tight, identical nods. Their skin was a deep, warm brown.
“These are the Baron brothers,” Roan introduced them. Each had a belt with a sword on one side and a dagger on the other, and sleek black bows on their backs. Their military grays stretched tightly over their huge chests and arms. They looked to be in their thirties. “They have obvious attributes that will be useful if we encounter anything untoward.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Baron brothers,” Sini said, squinting at them to see if she could detect any differences between the two. One was slightly taller than the other, and slightly more severe. “Do you have individual names?”
“Dalton and Goven,” Roan answered for them. Both men nodded stonily, and Roan nodded toward the less stony of the two. “Goven is the happy one.”
Sini gave them a curtsey. “Are you both barons?”
“They are not,” Will said, coming up and clapping Dalton on the shoulder. “But they were bodyguards for the Baron of Whitemire a few years ago.”
The name was familiar. “The one who was attacked by a mud troll?”
“His bodyguards fought off a mud troll,” Will corrected her. “It’s the best story to come out of Whitemire in fifty years.”
Sini stared at the two huge men, her regard for them rising even more.
The third man was significantly smaller. So much so that he was barely taller than Sini. His face was thin, his hair mostly grey, and his skin looked old and weathered. Six throwing knifes were tucked into his belt. He wore nondescript, utterly un-uniformish clothes.
“This is Pest. He’s good at…everything.”
“Do even your friends call you Pest?” Sini asked.
&nbs
p; Pest just gave a little smirk.
Roan shrugged. “He doesn’t have any. And he’s your personal shadow, Sini, anytime we’re anywhere populated.”
“Why me?”
“Because the queen wants the Keepers kept safe, and you like to sneak off to dangerous places. There’s no way you’ll sneak away from Pest.”
In less than an hour the others had gathered, been introduced, and they’d ridden out of the palace gate into a blustery afternoon. The hills past the city held the slightest tinge of autumn yellow. The clouds above moved past like rounded beetles scuttling through the morning sky. Will and Alaric in their black robes and the grey uniformed escorts lent a seriousness to the group that caught the attention of the people they passed.
Pest rode next to Sini near the middle of the group, quiet but watchful. The man, for being so small, was rather intimidating. It was either all the knives or the severe sort of intensity to his gaze. Whatever it was, she found herself in danger of being too daunted by him to speak.
There really was no need to find a new gargoyle to be frightened of, so she forced herself to open a conversation. Without a better idea, she said, “Is it safe to assume you’re proficient at knife throwing?”
He raised an eyebrow and nodded. Which was all the response she could fairly expect from such an inane question.
“At what range can you hit a target?”
“Depends on how big the target is.” His voice was dry.
A good point. “An apple?”
He was quiet for so long she thought he might not answer.
“Twenty paces.”
That seemed impressive. “Have you ever…” What did knife throwers do? Asking if he’d killed any people didn’t feel like a good get-to-know-you question. He must be at least fifty, maybe older. She probably didn’t want to know the number of people he’d killed. “Thrown a knife and killed a squirrel?”