by Galaxy Craze
I felt all the air leave my body in a deep sigh of relief, and saw Mary do the same.
From his backpack, Tanner pulled out the two cadet uniforms he’d promised. “I had a little more trouble getting these than I thought,” he said. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
I immediately felt guilty for being so quick to doubt him. Trust wasn’t coming easily for me these days.
Upon my bedspread, Tanner lay out a uniform for each of us. “We’d better hurry,” he said. “To make up for the lost time.”
They were the uniforms the British army used to issue to new soldiers in training. They were composed of lightweight navy blue cotton, simple pants and a button-down collared shirt, black boots and a cap. Luckily for us, both women and men wore the same ones.
The only alteration Demkoe made to the uniforms was the words RYKER ARMY, stitched in bright red across the upper left-hand corner of the shirts, like a badge. It would mark us now, too—Mary and me—as belonging to Demkoe, just as the palace did, just as England did. I remembered my time with Cornelius Hollister’s New Guard and shivered.
We dressed ourselves quickly, tucking our hair up into caps and snugly buttoning up our collars. The boots were too big, but the rest passed for acceptable. We each shoved a pair of rolled-up socks into the toes, to keep our feet from sliding around within their loose leather.
“Not bad,” Tanner said, his eyes lighting on me in a way that made me suddenly uncomfortable. I shivered and turned away.
“Do we have weapons?” I asked, hearing the quiver in my voice.
He shook his head. “Unfortunately not. Knives only.” There was one for each of us. It would have to do.
When Tanner handed Mary hers, she caught his hand and held it. He didn’t move, only looked at her with anxious eyes.
“Thank you, Tanner,” she said. “For everything. If we make it out of this alive, we’ll be greatly indebted to you.”
It was the gesture of a queen to make a point of appreciation this way, and Tanner recognized it as such.
“You won’t owe me a thing,” he said, sounding casual. “And if I’ve got anything to say about it, we’re all making it out of this alive. Now, are you ready?”
Mary and I both nodded as he stepped outside, moving quietly on soundless feet. He sent the guards away on a made-up mission, and they didn’t question him. He was their superior, after all. As Mary said, he had been with Demkoe from the beginning.
Mary and I were standing side by side, ready, when the door reopened and Tanner nodded at us to hurry. We pulled our caps low over our foreheads and marched in file behind him along the faded hallway runners, embroidered with gold and red roses.
My heart beat faster with every step. We were headed to the one palace tunnel entrance Mary and I were sure Demkoe couldn’t have discovered—the one through the backside of the bread oven in the kitchen. Not even our longtime palace baker had ever uncovered it. Mary and I only knew about it thanks to my insistence that we play tag downstairs, back when we were children. I remembered stumbling inside the tunnel, giggling in excitement when I realized where it led. It felt like a lifetime ago.
Down the northeast staircase, through the eastern hall, a quick right, and into the kitchen, which was closed for the night, and we would be there. Through the oven, we would climb to freedom.
But just as we were about to reach the northeast stairs, one of Demkoe’s soldiers turned the corner and grabbed me.
My heart racing, I kept my eyes down. Maybe he hadn’t recognized me.
Tanner and Mary remained still, straight-backed, betraying no emotion.
“Cadet,” the soldier barked, handing me a sealed manila envelope. “Take this to Demkoe, in the palace study.”
I glanced quickly at Tanner and he allowed a subtle nod. It was clear the soldier didn’t recognize me, or my sister.
I had no choice but to run an errand to Demkoe.
Slowly, keeping my face downcast, I turned on my boot heels and headed toward the study, the soldier following me with his gaze. Mary and Tanner continued toward the northeast stairwell. We had already agreed that if anything went wrong with our plan, we would regroup at the palace stables. I would deliver this envelope, let no one see my face, and be outside with Tanner and Mary within minutes.
I maintained a soldierly posture as I marched forward to my father’s study. The soldier who’d handed me the envelope was following just a few paces behind. Why couldn’t he have just delivered it himself, I thought bitterly, if he was coming this way anyway? Probably he just wanted someone else to face Demkoe’s wrath in case the envelope contained bad news.
I paused for a moment at the door, bracing myself for what to expect. The study, its four walls of brightly colored books, its soft leather chairs, and the large cherrywood desk that dominated the space. Demkoe would be seated at the desk, I was sure of it.
All I had to do was march straight to that desk and make this delivery without Demkoe or anyone noticing me. Then I could head directly to the stables and find Mary and Tanner. You can do this, Eliza, I told myself. When I was posing as a recruit in Hollister’s New Guard, I had been an expert at deflecting attention, at becoming invisible. All I had to do was imagine myself a mirror, a piece of glass, something reflective and translucent, too small and unimportant to be noticed.
But my ankles were shaking in my boots, and I could feel two circles of sweat forming on my navy blue shirt beneath my armpits.
Here goes nothing, I thought. And I pulled my cap down over my eyes, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
17
I was standing in the study for at least ten seconds before I realized I was frozen in the doorway, holding my breath. It was as if I’d temporarily forgotten how to walk. Taking the first step forward felt impossible. I shook my head, hoping to clear the fuzziness from my vision. This was not the time to let my fear take over.
But if I was caught, I decided right then and there, I would take all the blame. I would cause such a commotion that Mary and Tanner would be able to escape without me. Mary was more important to England. Her safety came first.
Demkoe was seated at the center desk, as I’d anticipated. A handful of guards were situated around him, some of them ripping pages out of my father’s books to roll up impromptu cigars. My fists clenched white on the envelope, but I managed to contain my anger. How dare they, I thought. They probably didn’t even know how to read.
“Delivery,” I managed to say in a voice an octave lower than my own.
I tried to hand the envelope off to a lackey by the door, but Demkoe waved me forward. “I’ve been waiting for this delivery,” he said. “It’s about time.”
He’d changed out of his general’s uniform and into his nightclothes. Over a matching set of cream-colored silk pajamas, he wore a maroon smoking jacket that was tied at the waist. I wondered where it came from—or rather who he’d stolen it from, on what continent. He was no better than a vulture that waited for an animal to weaken and die before sweeping down to feed on its heart.
I crossed the study room’s oak wood floor, too afraid to raise my eyes. The pulpy smell of old books filled my nose, and though it had to be my imagination, I could almost catch a whiff of my father’s old pipe smoke. I was suddenly glad that he wasn’t here anymore, that he didn’t have to see what his family, his country, was coming to.
And then I realized why I smelled my father’s pipe—Demkoe had found it and was smoking it. A swirl of gray tobacco smoke rose from its chamber, to form hazy clouds against the dark paneling of the ceiling.
Hugging the sealed envelope to my chest, I continued across the floor, trying my best to hold my breath. I could hear my own heart beating in my ears.
With two careful hands, I placed the envelope on the desk—on my father’s desk, beside a half-empty glass of his best scotch.
“Excellent,” Demkoe said, without removing the pipe from his teeth. He didn’t even look up to meet my eyes. Luckily for me, low-level h
elp was beneath his notice.
For a split second, I thought of how easy it would be. I could scratch his eyes out. Slit his throat. Break that glass of scotch over his head. Steal the pistol from his holster and shoot him, right in the middle of the forehead.
But I only turned around and began my swift retreat to the door. Mary and Tanner would be waiting for me at the stables. Right now I had to focus on getting out of here alive. Then I could figure out how to kill Demkoe.
Just as I reached for the doorknob to let myself out, another guard burst in, red-faced and out of breath.
“Sir,” he exclaimed. “I’ve just gotten word from the night watchmen. The queen and the princess are missing!”
“What do you mean, missing?” I could hear the sound of Demkoe’s chair falling down behind him when he stood up too quickly.
I continued forward, slipping past the guard.
“Find them!” Demkoe screamed, causing me to jump. “Search everywhere! No one rests until they are found!”
I ducked into the nearest room—a walk-in linen closet—and huddled there as hurried footsteps thundered past. I needed to think, to catch my breath and figure out what to do next. My heart was racing.
I was safe for the moment, surrounded by lemon-scented sheets and pillowcases fresh from the laundry, but with every second that passed I had less chance of getting out safely.
There was the rugged shouting of soldiers in the hallway. The search’s progress was dictated loudly through the handheld radios carried by the officers. “The ground floor’s secured,” a crackling voice announced. “Every exit has been blockaded.”
I was still on the top floor. Now I had no hope of escaping even if I did manage to make it downstairs. And if I tried to climb out a window from this height, I wouldn’t make it alive.
Maybe I should turn myself in, I thought. I would give Mary and Tanner the chance to escape without me—trade my freedom for hers, just as she had been willing to do for me. Whatever it took to get Mary out of here alive.
I quietly stepped out of the linen closet and into a nearby bedroom to straighten my uniform. When they found me, I would be like Mary—calm, commanding, regal. I would make her proud.
Then my eyes caught on something, and I started thinking.
The fireplace. It beckoned me with its open mouth, surrounded by red and gray brickwork.
Of course. Why hadn’t I thought of it sooner?
18
I had never been inside a fireplace before, but I used to watch the chimney sweep every time he came to clean it out. I quickly ran inside it, ducking my head under the carved mantelpiece, reached upward, and yanked on the flume. A shower of soot exploded around my head, but I smiled. So far, so good.
I yanked myself up and into the dark narrow square of the chimney’s base, just as I’d seen the chimney sweep do so many times. I could feel the cool bricks on both sides of my body, tight against my shoulders. You can do this, I told myself. You jumped off the Tower of London into a moat. You can handle a climb up the ladder in a fireplace.
But I hadn’t thought of how difficult it would be to breathe once I was firmly inside. Dirt and ashes blew at my face and into my eyes. I had to sink my nose and mouth into the fabric of my shirt as I reached for the iron rungs hammered into the brickwork. One rung at a time, I made my way up the chimney’s body, fighting the urge to look down.
I was about halfway up when I heard the bedroom door slam open.
It was at least two or three soldiers; I could tell from the pattern of their boot steps. Their voices were muffled by the chimney’s stone and brick, but the closer they got to the fireplace, the louder their words echoed up toward me.
I was frozen, my arms starting to grow stiff with the effort of holding myself absolutely still. I could stay like this, hoping the soldiers wouldn’t peer up the shaft of the fireplace; or I could continue climbing up and out to the roof—but risk letting them hear me shuffle through.
I could just barely make out the sky above me, glittering with stars. As I craned my neck toward it, a fluttering of ashes dropped into my eyes and mouth, catching angrily at the back of my throat. I couldn’t help the choking sound that came out of me. I covered my mouth as best as I could, and tried to take in air through my nose, through the mask of my uniform’s thin cotton. But it was impossible not to release another faint cough.
“Check the fireplace!” one of the soldiers called out.
My eyes stung, and I couldn’t see. But I could feel. Hand over hand, as fast as I could without slipping, I felt my way blindly to the top. I could hear the soldiers below me, fumbling in the dust, and I tried to make my trembling body move faster. Just one more rung, I kept telling myself. One more and then you’re there.
Then my head bumped against something solid.
It was a fine mesh grate, I realized, finally able to see again. It must have been there to stop birds or small animals from getting down into the chimney—and now it would keep me from climbing out.
I pressed the grate upward, but it wouldn’t come off. I couldn’t even get it to budge.
Below me, one of the guards was halfway up the chimney.
And then with all my might, I pushed the mesh grate again, throwing every ounce of my strength behind it—and this time, just barely, it squeaked out of place. I tossed it up over the side of the chimney’s mouth and in the next second I was able to pull myself up and out onto the rooftop.
I gulped at the fresh cold air hitting my face, the surface of the roof dim in the starlight. Quickly, I threw the mesh grate back over the opening and stomped on it, hearing it snap back into place with a satisfying click. That should hold them for a moment.
My only hope was the fire escape ladder that led down the south side of the palace wall. My father had it installed onto the palace’s facade when Mary and I were young as an extra precaution in the event of a fire. I said a silent thank-you to him as I ran for its rungs. “Be prepared for the worst,” he’d always told us. Well, the worst had come, and so far I was managing to survive it.
It was a long way down the palace wall, and in my loose army boots every step felt like a risk. I tried not to look down, and not to look back, and not to trip or stumble or fall to my death. Above me, the grate clattered back to the roof with a loud bang, and shouts rang out in the air. I started to run. When I was about halfway down I spotted Tanner striving to maintain his soldierly appearance while he was obviously searching the perimeter of the south side of the palace for me. But where was Mary? Oh God, if anything had happened to Mary, after this whole escape was my plan—
I jumped the last few steps to the ground and sprinted toward him.
Tanner looked at me, covered from head to toe in black ash, and I could swear he almost laughed. “Did you climb through the chimney?”
“We don’t have much time,” I said. “There are guards on my tail. Where’s Mary?”
“She’s in the stables. I left her there to come looking for you.”
“You left her alone?” I hissed, furious. “Every one of Demkoe’s guards is searching for her!”
“She’s safe there, I promise,” Tanner said, taking my arm and pulling me forward. “Besides, I had to come back for you. You know that.”
I didn’t answer. I had pulled away and was running to the stables before he could finish his sentence.
19
We entered the stables from the south entrance just as a swarm of Ryker guards burst through the door from the north. Mary was caught in the center.
Moving faster than I’d ever seen, Tanner quickly pulled me down into the nearest stall, his hand over my mouth to silence my protests. We hadn’t been seen, but through a barrier of wire mesh and hay we could see everything.
Ten guards had surrounded Mary, their rifles aimed steadily at her. Mary didn’t scream or try to run. She just nodded, indicating that she would go with them peacefully, every inch of her still the dignified queen. I couldn’t tell whether she’d seen me and
Tanner enter, if she was trying to help us stay hidden by going without a fight.
I struggled beneath Tanner’s grip, but he held me still as Mary held out her arms, letting them put her in handcuffs. There were so many guards surrounding her, it was like watching a swarm of bees at the hive.
“There’s nothing we can do, Eliza,” Tanner whispered into my ear, gripping my waist tight with one hand, the other still covering my mouth. “There are too many of them. There’s nothing we can do.”
The guards dragged her back toward the palace, shutting the door to the stables behind them with a loud thump. Then we were alone again.
Finally Tanner removed his hand from my mouth. “We couldn’t help her,” he said quickly, his voice low and soothing, the way I would talk to a spooked horse. “You know that as well as I do.”
“You shouldn’t have left her!” I started toward the north door. “We have to go back for her.”
Tanner grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. “We can’t, Eliza. And we can’t stay here now. We’re sitting ducks. It’ll only make things worse for Mary if you’re imprisoned, too.”
“I can’t leave her with … with him!” My mind recoiled at the thought of what Demkoe might do to Mary, how he might punish her for my escape.
“I promise you, Eliza,” Tanner said, taking both my hands in his, “we will come back for her. You have my word. But we can’t do it today. Please.” He offered me his hand. “You have to trust me.”
Did I? Did I trust him?
I turned and walked slowly over to Caligula’s stall. “Hey, girl,” I murmured, petting the soft velvet of her nose. In the stall next to hers, Wesley’s horse looked at me with wet, weepy eyes. They both probably missed our little cabin in the forest. So do I, I thought to Caligula, but I didn’t say it.
“You let me down,” I told Tanner. “Mary should have been your priority.”