Thief of Cahraman

by Lucy Tempest

  But if I didn’t do it, Cherine would fall to her death.

  I turned to Cyrus, found him watching me, his anxiety evident despite trying to keep a blank face. Cora had let go of her end of the rod, her hands over her heart and her eyes aimed up, as if hoping for a solution to fall out of the sky.

  Since I knew none would, I tore off my dress. The billowing skirt would not only hamper me, it would fill with wind like a sail and tear me away.

  Before either of them could vocalize their surprise, I’d stripped down to my pant-like undergarments and shoved the rod back firmly into their hands. “Hold this. Tight.”

  Cora’s eyebrows met her parted bangs. “Ada, what are you doing?”

  “Exactly what it looks like.” I grabbed the curtain and jumped on the ledge, swinging my legs over the wall and sliding down the curtain, pulling them both by the rod so their waists lodged against it.

  “Get back over here!” Cyrus ordered, pulling on the rod with one hand, trying to grab me with the other.

  I evaded his grasp, tightened mine on the curtain as I started climbing down. “I have to get to her.”

  “No, you don’t! I’ll do it!”

  “You’re too heavy for Cora and me, and even if we manage to hold you up, the rod might bend under your weight and Cherine’s. And I’m already halfway down.”

  “No, you’re not!” he shouted angrily as he tried to lunge for me again.

  No, I wasn’t. I was still practically at the top, just barely ducking out of his reach.

  I gulped down a bracing breath, tore my eyes away from his horrified ones. Then, not looking down, looking straight at the curtain, I held it tighter and started walking down the wall.

  “W-what are you doing?” Cherine’s hysterical shout signaled that I was right above her. “You’re going to fall on me!”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I removed one hand from the curtain, wiping my sweaty palm over the wall before reaching it down. “Grab hold of my ar—aah!”

  Vertigo hit me like a punch to the head. My world swayed and my sight blurred and blacked out on and off between blinks.

  This height—it made the house walls I’d scaled to squat in or steal from look like mere hurdles. From this perspective I realized the palace wall was at the very ridge of the summit the palace sat on. The ledge the guards had proposed catching Cherine on looked like a measly strip. From this protrusion and in this wind, if we fell, we’d probably miss it.

  We’d plunge deep down the side of the mile-high mountain.

  From that daunting height, the city stretched out below us, buildings looking like matchboxes and people like ants.

  Exhaling the dread, I swallowed my nausea, contorted around the curtain and stretched my hand down lower. “Grab. My. Arm.”

  Her teary gaze goggled at me as she stuttered, “Th-this i-isn’t a g-good idea.”

  “Do you have a better one?” I panted.

  She shut her eyes tightly, squeezing out terrified tears. Visibly trembling all over, she removed one hand from the gargoyle. Clinging to the curtain with both legs, I lunged down and caught her arm in the hook of mine. I pulled her up till she was on my level, thanking the terrible fates that it was her and not Cora. I wouldn’t have been able to pull up anyone heavier.

  “N-now what?” she clung to me as she breathed in my face, cheeks shuddering and eyes swimming.

  “You climb up the curtain.”

  “Over you?” Confusion seemed to crash into her fear, stalling it. “But—but you could fall!”

  Every inch of me was starting to burn. “Climb up or we’ll both fall!”

  “But—” she stuttered looking absolutely panic-stricken.

  The muscles in the arm holding her up stiffened and shook, and the hand holding us both slid a bit down the curtain, chafing my aching palm. “Move! Now!”

  She reached overhead for the curtain and tried to pull herself up. It felt like forever until she managed to climb above me. But the moment she pressed her feet down on my shoulders, I skidded down hard, making the curtain swing and Cherine slide down. She screamed along with Cora and Cyrus, who were now almost spilling over the wall.

  As soon as the mad pendulum of the curtain stilled, I panted, “Hold still. I’m coming up.”

  “Th-then what?”

  “Then you get on my back.”

  “H-how is that d-different from standing on your sh-shoulder?”

  I gritted my teeth, feeling my heart bursting and my breath tearing through my lungs.

  I still tried to infuse my voice with an assurance that was the last thing I felt. “I’m ready this time. And we’ll be one mass, instead of two pulling in different directions.”

  Bracing myself with all I had, I climbed back up, avoiding looking below me and focusing on the world above. Cyrus was twisted into a weird angle to hold us up, taking most of our weight, his muscles bulging, his eyes blazing with a dozen fierce emotions, his hair rioting in the wind. The sunlight fighting the shadows on his face added atmospheric depth to his features, making him look like an otherworldly being.

  Struggling to breathe past the heart booming in my throat, I focused on him, just him.

  I soldiered up, trying to block the pain screaming in my every cell. Once I was directly below her, Cherine lifted her legs from the wall. I dragged myself up so she could latch onto my back. I wrapped what remained of the curtain below us tightly around one leg.

  “Ready?” I panted.

  She squeaked. I took that as a “Yes.”

  My arms were on fire, my wrists felt like they’d snap off. The soles of my shoes had little traction. But I poured all my strength and agility into my hold on the curtain. I somehow managed to keep it firm as I climbed up, with Cherine clamped tight around me like a very heavy octopus.

  Once I got close to the wall’s edge, Cora and Cyrus heaved back with enough force to yank us up and over it. Cherine immediately crawled over me and landed on the ground, practically hugging it as she heaved deeply, her sharp pants punctuated by relieved sobs.

  Cora knelt by Cherine, stroking her back and murmuring reassuring words to her.

  Cyrus hauled me to my feet and herded me away from the wall, hands tight on my arms, eyes wide and pupils dilated as he searched my face feverishly.

  He finally shouted, “Are you insane?”

  Head spinning, I swayed in his grip, my voice slurring. “Been debating that for weeks.”

  His teeth gnashed together. “You could have fallen and died.”

  “So c-could have Cherine,” I hiccupped.

  “Better her than you.”

  I stopped swaying, squinted up at him disapprovingly.

  His grip loosened but he kept stroking my arms softly, almost lovingly. “I was just mad with worry about you. That was a very reckless decision. It could have cost you your life.”

  I leaned back into his hold, trembling. This whole thing would sink in later. For now, I felt almost drunk with relief. “But I’m still here.”

  “Yes, you are, and for that, I am endlessly grateful.”

  Princess Loujaïne burst through the crowd of girls and onlookers, followed by Mistress Asena and Master Farouk, all looking pale with panic.

  “What happened?” Loujaïne demanded as she reached us. Noticing Cyrus, she glared at him until he reluctantly moved away from me, hands turned up in resignation.

  Her glare darkened as it left him for me before landing on Cherine, who was still on her knees, clinging to Cora and weeping. “I said what happened here?”

  It was Fairuza who answered her, voice higher than usual. “She fell over the wall.”

  Suddenly, I was certain of one thing, instant fury evaporating all exhaustion and disorientation. “You pushed her over the wall.”

  Fairuza, lips trembling, gave me a downcast glare identical to Loujaïne’s. “She fell.”

  Hot rage engulfed my every sense, scorching my face, drying my tongue and numbing my fingers as frustrated tears spran
g out of my eyes.

  I was out of the competition, out of time to save Bonnie, and Cherine had almost died.

  Reservations and inhibitions going up in smoke, I slammed my fist into Fairuza’s face.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Before you go, I just want you to know that you are my hero,” Princess Ariane of Tritonia told me gleefully, holding out a tray of multicolored sweets.

  I managed a spastic half-smile as I accepted the tray. “Thanks, Princess.”

  Ariane curtsied, auburn hair almost falling over from its conical hairstyle. “Truly, that was the best thing I have ever seen.”

  It was only then I realized she wasn’t talking about me saving Cherine. That malicious gleam in her eyes was all about the black eye I’d given Fairuza.

  If catfights were this sorely lacking in the royal world, then they’d enjoy the outlet of the aggressive commoner privileges I had experienced in schoolyards or on the job.

  We were in the top floor’s waiting area. Yesterday, after the spectacle the Blue Opal tenants had caused, we’d been separated, with Cherine and Fairuza both staying overnight in the nursing wing. Cora and I had been the only ones left in our chamber. She was packed and ready to go home, while I, aside from failing, was probably going to jail for attacking a princess. The prince’s cousin, no less.

  Surprisingly, since last night Cora had said nothing to me. Even now, she remained in her own head as she attacked Ariane’s gift as soon as she walked away, gnawing on sliced gelatinous rolls, picking the ones filled with pistachios rather than walnuts.

  After a period of silent chewing, she suddenly blurted out, “That servant boy, the one who helped me hold you up, who was he?”

  I tried to play dumb. “Servant boy?”

  “I saw you talking to him at our first test.”

  “I was getting juice.”

  “You talked to him for a good while.”

  Why was I being interrogated? I’d suspected she knew I’d been lying about everything I was since day one. But now she gave me that look that made me feel she could read my mind. As if she knew why I was here, and what Cyrus was helping me with.

  “Am I not allowed to make friends?” The neckline and sleeves of my dress tightened, suffocating me with trapped heat beneath the cotton under her shrewd gaze. “Anyway, I was just asking him questions about the palace and life here and then I asked him to help me with Cherine. If I hadn’t, you would have been left holding us both since none of the other cows in this competition bothered to help. Probably hoping to take her spot in the line.”

  She cringed, curling her bottom lip in an exaggerated grimace. “You’re not wrong.”

  It seemed my defense worked since she let it go and continued eating. Minutes later, another ten girls joined us in the waiting room. Among them were Cherine—looking smaller than usual, still shaken and pale—and Fairuza, equally sallow, her left eye swollen shut and purple with the edges of her brow and cheekbone a dark red.

  Did I regret socking her in the eye? No. Did I dread the punishment for it? Yes.

  Fairuza spotted me. Channeling her anger through her clenched teeth and one good eye, she made a furious beeline towards me.

  Cora stuck out her long leg and tripped her before she could reach my seat, sending her flying face-down on the carpet. I tapped her arm warningly.

  Cora shrugged, uncaring. “What? I’m going home either way.”

  Laughter broke out, spreading like fire, only to be extinguished by Fairuza rearing up to her knees and sweeping a glare around the room. Her handmaidens rushed over to her sides but she slapped them away from her and lunged at me, hands on my neck.

  An expert in fighting dirty from my years on the street, I bent her middle finger back, weakening her grip while squeezing her other wrist viciously until she yelped and let go.

  “I’m not in the mood,” I drawled.

  Ripping her hands out of mine, she swung one back in a hard slap that knocked me sideways.

  All the girls but Cora gave us a wide berth, close enough to observe but far enough to not get reeled in.

  I set myself back upright, rubbing my cheek as I stared at her blankly. My face throbbed and I knew I was going to bruise, thanks to her silver rings. But I couldn’t feel bad about it, not when I could see her state. Fairuza wasn’t as regal with her hair spilling messily from its updo and her attire in disarray from her fall. And with one of her enviable turquoise eyes bruised shut, that docked a few more pretty points.

  “Is that the best you’ve got?” I taunted, straightening to my full height.

  “You wouldn’t believe the trouble you’ve marked yourself with,” she hissed, wincing after trying to stare at me menacingly, her bruised eye cracking open before sealing back shut.

  “What?” I sneered. “Are you going to throw me over the wall, too?”

  Hushed comments went through the room like a lit fuse, just as Cherine burst through the onlookers with sharp elbows.

  She didn’t say a word. She just hurtled toward us, lunged with her arms outstretched and going straight for Fairuza’s neck. Fairuza caught her wrists, digging her heels in to prevent another fall, sticking both of them in a stalemate of wrestling and stomping.

  “Get her off me!” Fairuza shouted.

  Agnë and Meira rushed to the rescue, one lifting Cherine by the belt of her dress and the other trying to peel her hands off Fairuza. Cherine jostled one hand free and slammed her elbow into Meira’s throat before pulling it forwards to rap her knuckles against Fairuza’s teeth.

  Seeming to have had enough, Cora grabbed each girl by her updo and ripped them apart in one yank. Crying out in pain, their furious struggle turned into failed attempts to wrestle their hair from her grip.

  The handmaidens tried to gang up on Cora when Fairuza’s attempts to scratch her way to freedom failed. Cora merely looked down at them, stony-faced and almost a whole foot taller than the tallest among them. “Can I help you?”

  “Uh. Um. Release the princess?” Meira choked.

  Cora swung her arm, tossing Fairuza right at her handmaidens, knocking them all down like dominos. She dragged Cherine to her couch and plopped back down beside her, resuming her snacking on Ariane’s sweets.

  New rule: never anger a farm girl who wrestles wolves off her livestock.

  Flustered, Fairuza retreated to the end of the room, with Meira rearranging her hair and Agnë fawning over her, asking if she needed anything. Both got shoved aside for their troubles.

  The prince was going to have his hands full with her. I sure hoped they had good nannies and decent tutors to do the childrearing for them since a nation ruled by their obnoxious spawn would be ripe for a revolution.

  Speaking of the prince, twenty days here and we never got to see the reason for all this. Not a mention by the palace dwellers to tell us what he was like or even a single portrait of him hanging in the halls. It was weird that neither King nor Crown Prince seemed to have any presence in the palace. Where were they hiding, and why?

  Not that it mattered to me. Nothing mattered but my impending elimination…or imprisonment.

  Cherine left her seat next to Cora and came to drop next to me, pearled hairpins between her teeth as she rearranged her hairstyle. She mumbled word by word as she removed them from her mouth. “Why. Did. You. Do. That?”

  “She came at me first.”

  “I meant yesterday,” she said quietly, nothing like her usual animation, feeling her hair for imperfections. “When I fell off the wall. Why did you do it?”

  “Punch her?”

  “Save me.”

  Dumbfounded, I ran all possible meanings through my mind. Why would she even ask something like that? Shouldn’t she just thank me and go back to being a fussy handful?

  “You were in trouble, so I had to help.”

  “But everyone else just stood there, even the guards didn’t do much. I would have already fallen by the time they did something.” She looked at me directly, searching my fa
ce with earnest intensity. “You could have fallen, too.”

  I shuddered as I remembered those terrible moments hanging over the void. “I know.”

  “But you still came for me.”

  “I did.”

  “But I’m your competition.”

  “Not anymore you’re not.” I nudged her lightly, not really attempting humor.

  Cherine sniffled and threw herself at me, trapping my arms against my sides and pressing her cheek against my neck. It was the clumsiest hug I had ever experienced, a sincere thanks from someone who never learned how to say thank you.

  “Please stay with me after this,” she gasped between sobs. “I can send you to Anbur with an envoy. Stay with my family, get to know them. My brother would love you.”

  I softened in her grip, slipping out an arm to wrap around her, resting my cheek on the top of her head. This exact position with this same size difference took me back to the times Bonnie had latched onto me to sway me, begging me to move in.

  If I couldn’t get my old life back, there might be a chance for a new one here if I took Cherine up on her offer. A part of me wanted it, to just go to a nobleman’s mansion and marry a man who felt indebted to me, on the demand of his fussy sister. I would be a true lady, safe, cared for, rich and possibly loved.

  It was so tempting, so freeing. But it would make me no better than the girls who’d watched Cherine dangle moments away from death. I couldn’t think of my own future when Bonnie’s was on the line. If I couldn’t save her and her father…

  Unable to complete that thought, I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Cherine.”

  She sobbed and held on tighter. All her strength wouldn’t be enough to hold me if I wanted to end her embrace. But her hold did add more cracks to my breaking heart.

  Princess Loujaïne and the judges arrived, walking into a suddenly silent room.

  Her silvery eyes flashed a frosty look towards us then narrowed in a glare at Fairuza’s end of the line. I had expected a much worse reaction towards me, something that may have involved spitting or cursing, but that was probably way beneath her gilded upbringing.

  “In you go,” Mistress Asena ushered us into the next room. I could tell which of her girls were going home by how she avoided them.