A Captive of Wing and Feather

by Melanie Cellier

  Part III

  The Promise

  Chapter 20

  The meager moonlight that filtered in wasn’t sufficient for any sort of search. Gabe went looking through the mess for an unbroken lantern while I examined the display cabinet where he had found the bottle.

  It looked to be in slightly better condition than most of the other furniture in the room, and I could see why it had drawn Gabe’s attention. Unfortunately it was now empty. If Leander had any more enchanted objects, he didn’t store them inside it. My eyes were drawn irresistibly toward the smoke door.

  “Adelaide,” Gabe called softly, and I turned toward him.

  He had located a lantern at what appeared to be the main desk, although both its surface and the chair beside it were littered with a variety of objects, rendering them unfit for regular use. The lantern’s glow lit up the room, but Gabe hadn’t moved, instead bending over something at the desk. I hurried over to join him.

  A small desk drawer had been pulled most of the way out, hanging haphazardly. Whatever it had divulged now held Gabe’s full attention as he bent over it on the desk. Apparently in his search for a tinderbox to light the candle, Gabe had discovered something of greater interest.

  I peered over his shoulder at a small, leather-bound book, its blank pages full of scribbled notes. It looked like a journal, although small sketches and diagrams broke up the words.

  “Is that Leander’s journal?” I asked. “Does it say anything about my enchantments?”

  “I’ve only read a couple of pages, but—” Gabe broke off, his eyes fixing on the locked door.

  I froze as well, straining to hear. Were those footsteps? Gabe moved fast, scooping the book off the desk and thrusting it inside his jacket. With one hand, he lifted the lantern, while the other swept around my shoulders herding me back, away from the door.

  For a moment I thought he was trying to push me toward the ominous smoke, and my body instinctively resisted. But instead of approaching the door, Gabe swept aside a long tapestry which hung on the wall beside it. As soon as he touched it, I could see why it had attracted his attention. It undulated in the breezes of the room in an unnatural way and, sure enough, when he pulled it aside, it revealed a hidden alcove.

  We nearly tripped over each other both rushing into the small depression. Only when I was almost shoved up against it, did I notice that the space held a simple wooden door. I fumbled with the handle, expecting to find it locked, but a simple latch was all that held it closed.

  A key scraped against the lock of the main door as I ripped open the one in front of me and threw myself through. Gabe followed behind, so close he was stepping on my heels, before pulling the door closed behind us as silently as he could.

  The door—and tapestry in front of it—might hide the light of our lantern, but it didn’t filter out all sound. A muffled roar of anger sounded from the room on the other side. Apparently Leander was able to distinguish his own chaos from the mess we had created. I looked around frantically for something to barricade the door, but the space around us was empty except for one thing. I tugged at Gabe’s sleeve.

  “Stairs,” I breathed, pointing downward.

  His eyes lit up, reflecting the orange light of the lantern, and he moved toward the hole in the floor without hesitation. I let him go first, taking the light with him, but followed close behind, casting several anxious glances over my shoulder.

  The narrow stone stairs wound downward in a tight spiral. No openings or landings punctuated the endless turns, although we must have passed several levels.

  “The escape tunnel,” I whispered, hope filling me.

  Gabe nodded. “It makes sense. We thought it must open from the locked study, and it certainly wasn’t in that cupboard.” He chuckled. “I’m now intimately familiar with every inch of it, and there wasn’t a secret passage to be seen.”

  The spiral meant there was no way to see back up to the top of the stairs, and not even a distant glow would give forewarning if the door behind the tapestry was opened. But I kept looking back over my shoulder anyway. If there was any pursuit, it was silent, and I could no longer hear whatever angry noises Leander was making in his study. Had he found the fragments of glass and worked out what they meant? Did he know I was free?

  The stone around us turned colder, as if we had descended below the bottom level and under the ground. Or was that just my imagination? We had been descending long enough that it felt as if we must be underground by now.

  Sure enough, the steps ended, the stone beneath our feet abruptly turning to packed dirt. Rough stone walls bordered a short, narrow tunnel that disappeared into darkness ahead of us. Gabe had to stoop to avoid hitting his head against the roof, although I could stand straight.

  His pace didn’t slow, however, and I kept close behind him. My mind was now helpfully supplying images of the lake bursting through the ancient walls of the tunnel and flooding us. I pushed the thought away. This tunnel had stood for unknown generations—there was no reason for it to collapse now.

  At long last, Gabe reached the door at the other end, nothing but another simple latch standing between us and freedom. This passage had been made for free access from the Keep to the forest, all the protections focused on travelers coming the other way.

  A moment later and the fresh night air hit me directly in the face. I breathed it in deeply, stepping forward eagerly. But as I moved through the doorway, it occurred to me that there might be a way to secure the latch so that we could open the door from the outside. I turned back, intending to catch it before it closed, and stumbled over a twisted root.

  “The door!” I cried, but Gabe reached for me instead, catching me before I hit the ground. It swung shut with a bang.

  “I’m sorry!” I rushed over to see if there was any chance of opening it again. It didn’t budge.

  “Don’t worry,” Gabe said. “Eventually Leander’s going to work out that’s how we got out, and I would bet he’s going to do something to secure the door at the top. At the very least, he’ll be watching the passage. I don’t think we can use it again.”

  I nodded slowly. “Perhaps we shouldn’t linger here.” I grimaced. “Just in case he works it out sooner rather than later.”

  Gabe nodded his agreement, and I took the lead, directing us back to the road. It felt utterly strange to be traversing the forest in the dark. The moonlight, combined with the lantern Gabe carried, provided ample light, but it had been two years since such a thing was possible. On instinct I had nearly directed us toward the lake before realizing it made more sense to head for Brylee.

  Brylee. A smile grew on my face. For the first time in two years, I could spend the night in a proper bed and speak aloud to my friends again. It still didn’t seem real.

  “I wish we’d had time for a proper search,” I said. “Who knows what else he has in there?”

  Gabe reached into his jacket and pulled out the book. “This might tell us something about that.”

  I peered at it. What secrets did it hold? I wished I could stop and read it right now, but it looked thick, and I didn’t much fancy the idea of tarrying in the forest, either. Even if Leander was unlikely to attack us out here, I couldn’t help wondering about the other animals that would have been released alongside my swans. I didn’t much fancy encountering a confused wolf pack right now.

  Gabe must have seen something of my eagerness for the secrets of the journal in my face because he gave me a smile.

  “I won’t go to sleep until I’ve read it cover to cover—no matter how long it takes. And I’ll give you a full report first thing in the morning.”

  Reluctantly I nodded. It made more sense for him to decipher it. We couldn’t both read it at once, and I imagined I would have a lot of questions to answer from my friends when we arrived at the haven.

  Brylee finally appeared on the road ahead of us, and Gabe insisted he would see me to the haven before returning to the inn himself. Except that when we actually ar
rived at the haven, I had no sooner touched the front door than it swung open and Audrey pulled me inside.

  Wrapping me in a tight hug, she called for Gabe to come in as well.

  “Thank goodness!” Tears streamed down her face. “I was fearing the worst. Wren and I were both waiting for Ash when he returned, and when you weren’t in the wagon, I panicked. How did you get out?”

  “The escape passage,” I said. “No wonder you couldn’t find the entrance—it was in Leander’s locked study.”

  “Lady!” Audrey almost screamed my name. “You’re talking! I mean, you’re here! I mean, you’re not at the lake. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it straight away. So you did it? You broke the enchantment?”

  “How about you come back to the kitchen before you wake the entire haven,” Cora said much more calmly from behind us.

  Audrey laughed and apologized, while Cora gave me a beaming smile.

  “It’s nice to see you here after the sun’s down, Lady. It’s been a while.”

  I smiled back. “Too long.”

  Wren appeared as we hurried into the kitchen, frowning at her sister and scolding her for disturbing Juniper. When she saw us, her irritated expression dissolved, however, and she ran forward to give me nearly as tight an embrace as Audrey had done.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” she said, as Cora ushered us all into the kitchen, closing the door firmly behind us.

  “How about we get the story from the beginning?” She bent a hard stare at Audrey. “Without questions.”

  I told the tale with occasional embellishments from Gabe, our appreciative audience gasping and applauding at the correct moments.

  “So you’re free?” Wren asked when we finished.

  “As you can see,” I gestured at myself and then at the kitchen around me.

  “What happens next?” Audrey asked, looking suddenly uncertain. “With Lord Leander and everything?”

  Gabe frowned. “That’s a good question. And I think I’ll have some more answers on that once I’ve read this. Hopefully it will provide the evidence we need to strip him of his title, lands, and freedom. Without his animal army, I don’t see how he could put up much of a fight.”

  “Very reasonable,” Cora said. “Best to read that book first and get everything in order before making any more moves. And for most of us, that means bed.” She smiled in my direction. “We’ve always kept your old room open for you. You know that. And today in an act of faith, I even put new sheets on for you.”

  “It sounds delightful,” I said with a small sigh.

  She turned to Gabe. “And as for you, you’re not going off to sneak into that inn. It’s the middle of the night. I’ll find a room for you here.”

  “I don’t like to trouble you,” Gabe began, but she cut him off.

  “It’s no trouble. We always have guest rooms set up and ready since we never know when someone might appear at our door. And truth be told, I don’t think that these young things could bear to let you and that book go so far away. You just wait and see—they’ll all be hounding you for answers over breakfast.”

  Gabe’s lips twitched. “And I shall endeavor to have them.”

  “Youth,” Cora muttered, with an upward roll of her eyes. “One day you’ll learn the value of sleep.”

  We all dispersed after that, me hurrying as quickly as possible to my bed and sinking straight into its softness with a luxuriating sigh. Many of my things were still here, stored for me by Cora since I hadn’t wanted them with me at the lake, and it was mere minutes before I was ready for sleep.

  But despite the comfort of the bed, sleep didn’t claim me. I kept reliving the moment of my imprisonment, as I had in the cupboard, and the moment of liberation when I smashed the bottle. Clearly my instinct about the bottle had been right—my pain-free presence here was proof of that. But something niggled at me.

  My moment of liberation had come with no particular sensation, and the darkness had come only a second later. But I thought I had felt something as it fell—a lightening of pressure so familiar that I hadn’t even noted it at the time. But now it had returned to bother me.

  I knew I was free of the need to spend my nights at the lake, but was I truly free? I had always been able to speak at night, so my voice was proof of nothing. Had it only been the darkness and not the smashed bottle that released my voice? Would I lose it again when daylight came? Only morning would tell me that, and it suddenly seemed unbearably far away.

  I tossed and turned for what must have been an hour before getting up. I kept thinking of my swans. Had they already flown away, abandoning our lake forever to return to their natural migratory habits? Or were they waiting there—still bound to me and wondering what danger had befallen me? On the nights when I had been late to return, they had always come to find me. Were they looking for me now?

  I thrust my feet into my boots and pulled on my overdress and cloak. I couldn’t lie here thinking such thoughts. If there was any chance my swans were still bound to me, I needed to know. And I needed to let them know I was fine. I could be there and back before Gabe delivered his report on Leander’s journal in the morning.

  I crept quietly from the haven, not wanting to disturb anyone else, and hurried through the deserted streets of the town. I had brought a lantern with me but almost regretted the decision. It illuminated the trees nearest me, but it cast the rest of them into even blacker relief, giving the impression that I and my pool of light traveled through a terrifying, hidden realm.

  I kept the light burning, however, needing it to avoid all the roots and branches that lay in my path. Only when I reached the lake did I abandon it on the edge of the trees. I didn’t need it here—the clear sky allowed enough moonlight through, while the water reflected it and increased its brightness.

  I hadn’t noticed I was holding my breath as I set the lantern down until it released in a long sigh. Seven sleeping shapes floated on the water. They were here and safe.

  But they weren’t searching for me. My breath caught again. So I had been wrong. The enchantment was fully broken, after all, my link with them gone. The release had happened as night fell, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that they had chosen to spend the night on the familiar lake. No doubt in the morning they would depart.

  “Adelaide!” Gabe’s voice shattered the stillness of the scene as he came into view, illuminated among the trees by the lantern I had left on the ground.

  The swans came awake, grunting, hissing, and snorting, their wings stretching as they looked for the threat. When their beady eyes landed on us, every one of them turned and paddled swiftly for shore, waddling up onto dry land and heading in my direction.

  A relief I hadn’t expected to feel overwhelmed me. Dropping to my knees, I welcomed them.

  “Hello, friends,” I murmured. “I hope I didn’t worry you.”

  “They’re still bound to you.” Gabe cocked his head to the side, his gaze tracking between me and the feathered moat around me. He hadn’t phrased it as a question, though.

  I met his eyes. “It would appear so.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  “The journal?” I asked, looking to see if he had it in his hands.

  He nodded. “I came to find you, but you were gone. It terrified me for a moment before I realized you must have come here to see them.” He pointed at the swans.

  I flushed and slightly averted my face. He knew me too well.

  Striding over, he offered a hand to help me to my feet. Reluctantly I took it, irritated at the way my heart leaped at his nearness.

  “There’s a second enchantment, just like I guessed on that first night. We destroyed the one tying you to the lake, but the one connecting you with the swans and stripping you of your voice remains.” He didn’t release my hand. “So please don’t hit me.”

  “Hit you—?” My words cut off as he pulled me close, wrapped his arms around me, and lowered his face toward mine.

  I knew in an instant what he intended
. And I knew too that I should push him away—even hit him, perhaps, as he had suggested. But for all I told myself to move, a larger part of me refused to listen. In the suddenness of the moment, my heart and body took control, and I allowed him to press his lips against mine.

  Chapter 21

  The kiss lasted too long and too short all at the same time, my heart singing as my mind screamed at my foolishness. It was too heady this kiss, too tantalizing. If I let myself, I would drown in it.

  I regained control and pulled away. Gabe let me go with a reluctant sigh.

  “Did anything happen?” he asked. “Do you feel any different?”

  Yes! my heart said, everything is different.

  “No. What do you mean?” my mouth said instead.

  “Oh.” He looked a little sheepish. “I thought maybe…I’ve heard a kiss of true love…”

  “What?!” I shrieked, giving him a light shove. “You thought what? True love? That’s a little presumptuous of you, don’t you think?”

  Before Gabe could respond, Eagle appeared in the air, gliding into the clearing, a black shape against the black night. I hadn’t even realized she’d left.

  She flew straight for Gabe, honking at him and flapping with her wings. He waved his arms around to defend himself, dancing backward out of her reach.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to insult her, I swear.”

  “No,” I hissed. “I can hear something. I think she’s trying to warn us. Quick! Go hide in the trees.”

  He didn’t hesitate, sprinting for the trees behind us, and a small warmth ignited in my chest at his trust in my judgment. My swans couldn’t properly understand me at night, but I pointed at Eagle and then at Shadow—my two most assertive friends—and asked them to follow him and keep him among the trees. I could think of only one person whose approach would have such an effect on Eagle, and I didn’t want him to know the prince was in such easy reach.