by Linda Kage
She was the most important thing in Farrow’s life. Of course, I would do what I could to assist.
“Just so you know, I’d rather face down a filthy, incestual Graykey in a dark alley than take you anywhere near that castle right now,” Indy grumbled, even as he found his own horse and moodily climbed into the saddle. “But if you insist on making this fool’s mission, then as your assigned bodyguard, I’m going with you.”
I sent him a winning smile, glad he’d decided to tag along. It made me feel better about my decision to do this than any other decision I’d made all day.
Things were going to work out; I could just feel it.
“Thank you,” I told him gratefully. “You’re the best friend a girl could have, you know that?”
When he merely grunted and scowled at me, I started my horse into a trot, leaving the dead men where they lay near the unlit pyre, and couldn’t help but tease, “Even if you have a rather unhealthy and obsessive dislike for the poor Graykey clan.”
“Poor Graykey clan?” he cried in horror, just as I knew he would. “I assure you, my lady, nothing in the history of their entire house warrants even a smidgeon of sympathy. The Graykeys have been terrorizing the Outer Realms since the beginning of time. If they’re not mating with each other, then they’re killing one another, and not giving a whit about the rest of us who usually end up as collateral damage during their damned family feuds. House Moast has lost members every time they’ve had one of their repulsive reapings. Do you even realize what happens during a Graykey reaping?”
“I realize it doesn’t matter,” I countered saucily, happy I’d diverted him off the topic of our current mission. “Since your High Cliff countrymen had them all rounded up and executed. House Graykey is no more, dear friend, ergo you can stop talking about them in the present tense.”
“If only I could,” Indigo muttered, darkly. “Because we didn’t catch them all. King Bjorn’s still trying to track down the last few and finish them off for good.”
“Well, I really don’t see why he bothers.” It made no sense to me. “All the truly dangerous Graykeys have been eliminated. Why can’t the last bit who didn’t cause any mischief go about their business in peace?”
“Because, dear princess,” Indigo explained impatiently. “Their entire bloodline has been tainted by a dark and powerful curse, one that follows them generation after generation.”
“Well, that’s not their fault.”
“Irrelevant!” He lifted a hand to shush me. “Even if every single living member of the house has somehow been able to exorcise the evil magic from their system, all it’ll take is for one of them to procreate, and the cycle starts anew. I mean, death, destruction, and utter bloody mayhem. Do you really want that to happen again? Because let me just tell you about a few of their atrocities I witnessed when I went to Lowden to help fight them.”
And just as I planned, he forgot all about the dangers of our journey so he could veer off into a passionate monologuing rant, extolling the many inequities made by his most despised house.
Yes, I decided cheerfully, everything was going to be just fine. I had distracted my bickering bodyguard as planned, and now I had a hope flowing through my bloodstream that was strong enough to claim empires.
We would succeed in this quest. I’d make sure of it.
27
Farrow
I limped into Blayton on foot four days after Nicolette left me in chains. It took me less than an hour from her departure to find the key to unlock my shackles. I probably could’ve raced after her and caught up to her without that short of a delay, but I didn’t try.
She didn’t want me. I could respect that.
I even understood it. And I knew it was the best thing she could’ve ever done for herself.
But that didn’t prevent me from becoming a shredded mess inside. I swore the only thing that kept me going was pure adrenaline and the desire to save Sable.
I had walked, mercilessly pushing myself, and probably went farther than I would’ve on a horse. Then, two days ago, I came across a merchant who sold bolts of cloth with a broken axle on his wagon. After helping him fix it, he’d given me a ride to a small settlement he lived in not far from the capital. So I had walked the last few miles to the edge of Blayton, and I still didn’t have details formed in my plan to free Sable yet.
Sneaking into the castle would be the easy part. I knew my way around all the side halls and hidden passages like the back of my hand. And since I’d spent time in the dungeon after my mother had died, I knew how the cells were fashioned.
Iron bars separated the different pods from each other, but the entire contraption was one big cave-like pit cut into the ground with rock floors and walls. The only way to escape was for someone to lower a ladder for you to climb up to the metal-mesh ceilings that were bound closed with a padlock on each door.
But I wasn’t sure how many knights guarded the dungeon at a time. I’d have to pickpocket the padlock keys from someone and distract pretty much all of them so I could slip inside. I’d also have to fashion some kind of knotted rope to lower down into the pit for Sable to climb up, if she was still well enough to climb.
Please God, let her be well.
It was too bad Nicolette wasn’t here with her—
But that regret didn’t even register when it came to all the things I regretted with her. I’d dishonored her in so many ways. If I started mourning shit now, I’d never stop.
I wondered briefly if she’d made it back to Donnelly yet. As long as she found the desert, I was sure the scorpions would help her the rest of the way home, whether their debt was paid to her or not. Those bugs had adored her. They’d see to her welfare.
But all that counted on so many ifs. For all I knew, she might’ve been raped and murdered minutes after leaving me.
Fear clouded my system.
Please God, let her be well, I prayed again, for a different princess this time, one I didn’t have the luxury to worry about right now. I would unravel if I did. And Sable needed me to have my wits about me. So I concentrated on my sister.
Wearing a straw hat that I’d traded the cloth merchant for, along with a long overcoat and scarf that covered the bottom portion of my face, I stole through the city incognito, intent to recover Sable.
First, I decided to reconnoiter the area, to make sure she was still being kept in the dungeon at all and count the number of men guarding her.
When I reached the castle without my identity being discovered, a sense of relief and victory clouded my system. I began to think that maybe I’d meet with success in this crazy plan of mine after all.
Wondering where I’d take Sable once we escaped, I found a hidden entrance that was camouflaged by a thatch of ivy growing up the side of the stone walls. Thorns clawed into my skin, and leaves and vines tangled in my hair and clutched my clothes, as if they wanted to pull me into a fatal hug and suffocate me to death.
The sudden claustrophobia made me panic, and I had to pause and close my eyes, orienting myself before I pushed onward and found the crack in the wall. Knowing things were only about to get tighter, I left my pack of things there and turned sideways before squeezing inside. An interior escape hall was straight ahead; I merely had to shuffle along awkwardly like this until I reached it. My hat snagged on a rough section of wall. I ducked my head with my face still cranked to the side in order to get out of it and keep moving. My coat got caught next. There was no room between me and the wall to even reach in with my hand and untangle the mess. I had to use brute force to push myself along, tearing cloth in the process.
About a hundred mini shuffles later, I finally reached the opening of the abandoned hall and I wedged myself in. Though wider than the crack in the wall, this passageway was still tight and dark with a chilling breeze that wafted by briskly. Not even servants used it, making it musty and dusty, full of cobwebs and mold.
Hunching my shoulders to avoid hitting my head on the low ceiling, I crept alo
ng until I came to a door that would lead to a main corridor. But as I recalled, the door was hidden by a floor-to-ceiling tapestry. If I could slip into the hall behind that, I knew I could creep around unnoticed, hiding behind pillars and curtains until I reached the dungeon entrance.
I set my hand on the door when I reached it, knowing I’d have to be more vigilant once I stepped through this portal, for guards and servants would be everywhere.
With a deep breath, I pushed…
Only to find no tapestry barring my way.
What the—?
I froze, surprised to find it gone. Why would they move their embroidery like that? They never took their cloth artwork down, not even to clean them. The servants usually just beat them with a broom where they hung, slapping the dust free, and called it good.
Realizing something was wrong, I began to retreat, reversing back into the escape hall. But a voice behind me said, “There you are,” just as something sharp nudged me in the back.
Something sharp that felt very much like a sword.
“Hands where we can see them, boy,” another voice—this one from the front, in the main corridor—commanded.
Lifting my hands to my sides in surrender, I cursed fluidly when Greggor appeared before me.
Yeah, this wasn’t going to end well.
He sneered back, amused by my misfortune. “So the prodigal son returns, hmm? We’ve been waiting for you, bastard.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Missed me, did you?”
With a chuckle, Greggor replied, “Always. We’ve no amusing beatings to watch in the throne room without you around to whip.” He glanced past me to whoever held the weapon against my spine. “Take him to the throne room. The royals are awaiting his presence there.”
The blade pierced deeper into my spine, slicing through my clothes and nicking flesh. “You heard him,” I was told. “Get moving.”
I flinched with the next painful nudge and reluctantly shuffled forward. Mind spinning with ways I could escape and get to Sable, I planned my next move, for I knew I couldn’t remain caught. I had to get out of here.
Reacting before I fully thought it all through, however, I ducked suddenly, shifting to the side to avoid the sword at my back. As soon as I was liberated from the blade, I spun around, kicked out, and caught the guard by the legs, tripping him to the floor.
He fell heavily, and I used that split second to steal his sword and leap up, gaining the upper hand. With a quick jab through his chest, I was free from his captivity, armed, and prepared to fight my way out.
In front of us, Greggor had stopped walking. With his hands still held placidly behind his back, he turned around and gave the dead soldier a bored glance, only to lift his hand and snap his fingers.
Immediately, half a dozen more soldiers filled the hall, all of them drawing their weapons.
“We can do this all day,” Greggor reported mildly. “I’ll fetch the entire army into this passage to subdue you, if that’s what it takes to get you to the throne room, but you will go there, and you will speak with His Majesty.”
My jaw hardened. I glared toward the soldiers, who were ready and prepared to lay down their lives to attack me. Sneering, I rolled my shoulders and returned my gaze to Greggor.
“Fine,” I answered. “But I’ll walk, unaided and of my own volition.” I lifted the sword I still held. “And I’m keeping this.”
Greggor studied my hard expression before shrugging. “If it makes you comply, then whatever.” He turned away and started down the hall once more. “This way, whipping boy.”
I huffed, debating my options. Kill these six and then my father’s top advisor before he could summon more guards, or go to the king and try to reason with him. Already knowing how far I wouldn’t get with him, I nearly drew my sword and flew into combat, but decided against it. I needed to look into the king’s eyes one last time and finally be free of this power he’d always held over me.
This would be good closure, I tried to tell myself.
“Tor,” Greggor called as he entered the throne room ahead of me. “You have a visitor.”
“Who is it?” the king began, only to half rise from his chair when I entered behind his advisor and stopped in the middle of the floor in front of him. “Farrow. My God. They said you’d return.”
“And a rat can always be flushed out of its hidey hole,” Greggor added with a mocking scoff as he slumped into his seat of honor to the king’s left. “We found him sneaking in through the hidden passage, just as we were warned he would.”
Warned? I squinted in confusion, because I hadn’t even planned on entering the castle that way until just this morning, and I certainly hadn’t shared my ideas with anyone else. How could they know—?
That’s when I noticed the queen’s seat to His Majesty’s right was actually filled with the queen herself. Kalendria sat by her husband for the first time ever and cradled a sleeping child in her arms, smirking victoriously at me.
It was who I noticed standing between her and the king, however, that made my blood run cold. I focused on the man who lingered slightly behind their chairs, long robes adorning his frame and purple birthmark coating his bald head.
Lips parting, I gaped at Roloff, the soothsayer.
Apparently, my father hadn’t had him killed for predicting the wrong gender of his newest born, after all.
Roloff had no doubt been the one to warn them of my impending arrival. He’d betrayed me.
Must take a good deceiver to know one, I guess.
“So, you’re to be called the Bastard Betrayer, are you?” The king sounded mildly conversational and utterly unsurprised as he spoke, confirming my suspicions that the soothsayer had worked with him against me, revealing my prophecy. “I confess, I didn’t see that one coming. The bastard whipping boy who thought he could double-cross a king. Defeat a king?” He chuckled softly. “Wouldn’t that be a sight if you had actually succeeded?”
“I’m here for Sable,” I said, standing my ground, a lone man surrounded by the mightiest soldiers the kingdom had to offer and in front of the only man who’d ever made me cower in fear.
The king arched a severe brow. “And the Donnelly princess I had you fetch?” he countered.
I shrugged, not breaking eye contact. “She died in the Cull on the trip here. A river monster got her.”
All truth.
“Is that so?” the king murmured, studying me a moment before he lifted a hand to wave someone forward from the side of the room. When the two soldiers from the ferry stepped into view, my stomach filled with acid. “Then, how can these two claim they saw you with the princess alive, not but five days ago.”
“Aye,” I agreed on a decisive nod. “They did. And they saw her fall in the water, dead, too.”
“Dead, huh?” the king asked. “Then who were you fucking that night, when my guards doubled back upon leaving the ferry and found you cozied up with the little bitch in front of a roaring campfire? A dead corpse?”
I glanced sharply at the guards, surprised they’d been there. I’d had no clue anyone had seen us. And why the hell hadn’t they taken Nicolette from me, then? I knew I’d told them before getting on the ferry to keep their distance; I’d lied, saying I could get the princess to Blayton far faster if she was compliant and unaware she was being kidnapped. But where had they been when she’d tied me to the tree and abandoned me the next morning?
“They returned directly to me,” the king answered my silent ponderings, “reporting of your successful capture. We thought you’d arrive with the ruined princess in tow any day”—he motioned toward Roloff—“until a little birdie here informed us—while his head was literally on the chopping block—that we would all be betrayed. By you.”
I didn’t have anything to say to that. What could I say? It was true. I had betrayed him and my kingdom. I wouldn’t deny it. To save Nicolette, I’d do it again.
“So, I’ll repeat my question one more time,” the king instructed. “Where is th
e princess of Donnelly?”
“Somewhere you’ll never reach her.” I narrowed my eyes. “Now, where is my sister?”
Red rage filled his face. Slamming his hand down on the stone armrest of his chair, he boomed, “Damn you. Think you have the right to call her such, you illegitimate by-blow of a whore?”
“I take the right,” I snarled, stepping forward, “as I’m obviously the only person in this hellhole who cares what happens to her. Is she still being kept in the dungeon? Is she still alive?”
“Oh, she’s alive alright. But do you really wish to see your precious Sable again?” the king hissed, glowering. “Well, I’ll show you your Sable.” He waved a hand. “Bring in the princess.”
28
Farrow
My shoulders fell with relief. Thank God. At least Sable was still alive.
“I’ll let you look upon her, and then you will receive your just punishment,” my father said, the volume of his voice growing with each word as his ire increased. “I’ll spill your guts all over this floor, and I’ll send the hogs in to piss on them. No one thinks to betray me and gets away with it. No one makes a fool of me. Damn you, I’d already sent a raven message to Donnelly, letting them think I had their princess in possession. I demanded their full cooperation if they ever wanted her back alive.”
I shrugged, smirking slightly because it seemed I had made a fool of him after all, hadn’t I? “I guess you shouldn’t have counted all your chickens before they hatched, Your Majesty.”
“Why, you cocky, insufferable whelp.” His hands fisted. “You will die,” he seethed. “I will watch the life drain from your body. Just as soon as I watch the expression on your face as she dies.”
When he pointed, I whirled around to find my sister was being escorted into the room.
A choked cry of dismay left my lungs. She could walk on her own, but I wasn’t sure how. The girl I’d left a few weeks ago was only a shell of lifelessness now. Her bones showed through her paper-thin and grayed skin, where red bite marks—no doubt from rats—dotted her legs and arms and face. Her hair was matted and tangled, falling around her eyes, and her dress was mere rags now. Shoulders slumped and her head unable to be held up straight, she stared at me with dull eyes that didn’t even seem to recognize me.