The Glowing Knight

by Jodi Meadows

  “The same ones I use to leave the palace when I don’t want to be delayed.” He motioned toward the balcony. “If you really want to do it that way sometime, then practice first, and make sure you know the guard routes so you don’t get caught. But for tonight, try to avoid falling to your death.”

  “And how am I supposed to get past the guards?”

  “You won’t. I’m going to lead them away for a while.”

  “How?”

  “By becoming you.”

  FIVE

  TURNING JAMES INTO me wasn’t that hard.

  He was roughly the same size and shape, so unless my guards spent much time memorizing my figure, they wouldn’t notice the difference as long as James kept his face covered.

  Wearing one of my suits, dark blue with gold embroidery around the sleeve cuffs and collar, James pulled a brimmed hat over the back of his head and pressed a handkerchief to his nose so that only his eyes were visible. “Do you recognize me?”

  “You look just like that prince fellow if he had a terrible cold. Very handsome, in a sniffly sort of way.” I wished there was something more we could do about his hair—his was cropped short where I kept mine long—but a hat was the best solution for now. “Remember, don’t meet their eyes. Just storm past and keep them busy. Hopefully they won’t realize their mistake.”

  A minute later, James was out the door.

  I held my breath, waiting for the guards to see through the disguise, but the only sounds were boots thumping on the floor. One of them grumbled that I was ruder than usual.

  Then they were gone.

  I allowed myself a grin as I put on the silver mask and opened the door just a crack.

  The hall was empty. At least as far as I could tell. The eye holes of the mask allowed me to see straight forward, but it killed my peripheral vision.

  My heart raced as I took one step out of my room. Then two. The door fell shut behind me.

  I was alone.

  Wonderfully, spectacularly alone. No guards. I wanted to revel in the feeling of no eyes on me, no judgment and no expectations, but this was hardly the time or place. James could be discovered any moment.

  Keeping my steps quiet on the braided rug, I turned in the opposite direction James had taken my guards. Lamps kept a cheery glow down the line of mostly unused apartments, leading the way to a discreet door at the end of the hall.

  The wooden door was the same rich shade as the walls around it, with only a faint line of space marking its presence. Even the handle was hidden; a hollow fell behind one of the carved dragons that flew the length of the wall. There was a small lever inside, and pulling it made the door swing open.

  I glanced over my shoulder before stepping onto the small landing and pulling the door shut behind me.

  Only a few gas lamps lit the interior, just another part of the illusion. With the hall bright enough, no light from here would shine through.

  “Clever,” I whispered, and turned left to set a course down the ramp, letting one hand breeze over the banister.

  The ramp ran along the palace wall, and was wide enough for a meal cart to be wheeled up, which answered a question I’d never thought to ask: how had servants managed to get their carts up the stairs?

  Apparently there was a lot about the palace I didn’t know.

  I reached another landing shortly, and then another on the ground floor. Without opening the door, there was no way to see who was in the hall, but there was also no time to waste.

  Aiming for confidence, I pushed open the door and strode out—right into a maid polishing the mirrors.

  She yelped and jerked back, first taking in the mask over my face, then the sword strapped across my back, and finally the curtain pull looped over my shoulder. She thought I was a burglar.

  Before I could even consider whether to identify myself, she flicked her polishing cloth at me. It stung my throat, then dinged off my mask, and at that point I realized perhaps I should run.

  I turned and fled, gripping my curtain pull tight against my side. The wardrobe handle banged against my ribs as I careened through the halls.

  Behind me, the maid shouted for guards. “Intruder! Burglar!”

  Adrenaline spiked through me. I passed one intersecting hallway. Two. I turned a corner at the very back wall of the palace and stopped, chest heaving and breath rattling so loud I could barely hear the guards coming for me.

  But there was supposed to be an exterior door around here and if I didn’t find it, I’d be arrested, then discovered, and then I’d have bodyguards sleeping in my bedroom with me.

  “Calm down.” My voice had a metallic echo behind the mask. “Breathe.”

  I counted backward from ten as I scanned the walls, searching for a hidden door like the one upstairs.

  Boots pounded through the halls, as fast as my heart pounding in my chest. The door had to be here. James was never wrong. Well, hardly ever.

  “You there! Stop!” The guards had turned the corner, swords already drawn so they could cut me down more quickly.

  Maybe there was a spring panel I needed to push. Frantically, I began shoving at the wall, but if there was a spring I couldn’t find it. No give in the carved wood panels. No telltale click.

  The guards were just a few paces away. There was no more time.

  Just then, the heel of my palm scraped over a sharp cut in the wood. Another handle like upstairs, just better hidden.

  I pulled the catch and swung open the door, and without bothering to look at what waited for me, I darted into the sticky night.

  The guards chased me. Of course.

  I ran at full speed, hoping my eyes adjusted to the dark and pockets of light before I crashed into something—or someone.

  Outbuildings littered the space between the palace and the game forest beyond—all good hiding places, if I had time to hide. But not only did I have to follow Knight, I had to figure out where I’d follow him from.

  No time to doubt myself. I surged across a stretch between the door and the nearest outbuilding, tempted to pause there and wait for them to pass. But no, the gardening storage was too obvious. Instead, I put on a burst of speed and whipped around the northeast corner, then took a hard right toward the next building. A flagpole, sans flag, rested on the ground nearby.

  The door was unlocked. Thank saints. I slipped inside and drew the door closed. Breath rattled through my chest as I fought to restrain a panicked laugh. Chased by my own guards. Not mine mine, but guards who answered to my family, nonetheless.

  Footfalls slammed by. Paused.

  Quickly, I glanced around the room. It was dim, but enough light shone through the windows to reveal the hulking shadows of storage shelves and crates, and enough floor space for a fairly energetic sword fight. Bits of crumbling wood lay scattered. At least, I hoped it was just debris, not dead animals.

  As I feared, the guards had figured out where I’d gone. The door pulled open and light splintered in across the dusty floor, but as silently as I could, I knelt and grabbed a piece of shattered plate—or a cockroach shell; it was hard to be sure—and stayed low. Where I crouched beside the hinges, they couldn’t yet see me.

  I forced myself to breathe soft and even, and as the men began to peer into the building, I tossed the plate shard toward the back of the room.

  “There!” They thundered by me, deeper into the dim storage building, and I slipped out, shutting and barring the door with the flagpole braced under the knob.

  It wouldn’t take long for them to get free; already, the door rattled and the flagpole shifted.

  I sprinted away. I’d given myself a head start, but it wouldn’t be long before they caught up.

  SIX

  I TOOK TO the shadows as soon as possible.

  Until now, I’d never realized just how many places there were to hide in the King’s Seat: in the shadow of the palace, between outbuildings, and behind statues of saints and long-dead Pierces. I darted from one black shadow to another, quickly
heading out of the King’s Seat and into Hawksbill.

  I headed toward the Bome Boys’ Academy, where Knight had an apartment like all the other professors. Maybe he hadn’t left yet. Wherever he was going, he needed to be there at midnight. That was an hour from now.

  Silence pushed around Hawksbill as I hurried on, trying to stay ahead of the guards. My biggest advantage, at least that I could guess, was that they’d assume I’d either go back to the palace to finish the job, or head straight for the wall to make an escape.

  Then again, it turned out I knew much less about palace security and servants than I’d previously thought.

  Hopefully James was faring better.

  Hawksbill was knots of streetlights and dark pockets between. I kept to yards and forced myself to pause—listen for voices or footfalls—whenever I came to an intersection I needed to cross. And every time I saw a lamp burning by the road or on a house, I was tempted to step into the sphere of light. But that was the prince in me, who’d never considered the need to hide in the darkness.

  With the curtain pull growing heavier on my shoulder and the silver mask still hampering my vision, I sneaked past the Chuter home, the small but very ornate Roberts Chapel, and Manily Plaza, where I’d attended several outdoor plays. Lights shone in a few mansions, but many were already dark. Ahead, too, where the large box of a school rose above the wall and houses and trees, lights burned in the northern wing: the student dormitories. They must be up late studying. Jealousy simmered in me.

  There were still several buildings between the school and me when I spotted him. Professor Knight was swathed in a large coat, in spite of the summer heat, and his heels thunked on the paving stones as he made his way down the road that led to the Hawksbill gate.

  Which meant if I wanted to follow him once he got to Thornton, I needed to get out of Hawksbill first.

  I adjusted my grip on the curtain pull and aimed myself for the nearest section of the wall.

  “Good evening, Professor.”

  I paused behind a tree, holding my breath as a guard approached Knight, and the professor bobbed his head in greeting. He seemed amicable. Like himself. Not at all as though he were about to engage in some untoward activity.

  Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe everything he said had been honest and tonight he was simply running errands.

  But what about Hensley?

  “Watch yourself tonight,” said the guard. “There’s a burglar on the loose.”

  Knight straightened. “Who was robbed? Are they safe now?”

  The guard shook his head. “The attempt was on the palace, but as far as we know nothing was taken. Everyone’s safe.”

  “The burglar got free?”

  “We’re doing everything we can to apprehend him. He trapped a few of our men in a storage building. They’re itching to catch him now, as you can imagine.”

  Great. They were out already, then. Now all of Hawksbill would be on alert.

  Knight shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. “I’m sure they are. Well, if I see him, I’ll be sure to tell someone. What does he look like?”

  “Not sure. I heard he was wearing a mask. Saint Fade Christopher, maybe. A costume piece.”

  “I’ll keep my eyes open. Thanks for the warning.”

  The guard bowed his head. “Good night, Professor.”

  They parted ways, the guard continuing his search for the supposed burglar around a small monument of four obelisks, where I’d been hiding just a few minutes ago. Knight slouched his shoulders and seemed to sigh in relief.

  Whatever he was doing, it was illegal, and he knew it.

  I hurried on to the wall, anxious to get out of here. The space between the gate and me was clear of guards, and with the gentle hills and curve of the wall, there was no way they would see me. But now that I needed to climb it, the wall seemed more imposing than ever before.

  This was definitely going to be more difficult than I’d anticipated, but I gave it my best shot. I threw the end with the door handle as high as I could.

  It clanked against the stone maybe halfway up, then scraped as it fell back to the ground. Frantically, I gathered everything and scanned the area, but it was still quiet. No one had heard . . . this time.

  One more time. I gave it a stronger windup and hurled the makeshift hook up in the air, letting go of the pull this time.

  It flew higher, almost reaching the top of the wall, but it was obvious this wasn’t going to work. The curtain pull was too short by an arm’s length. Even if I could get the hook end up there, reaching it would be difficult. And what if it didn’t hold my weight? What if the knot around the handle gave way?

  I wished I’d thought of these things before, but I hadn’t expected sneaking out to be this difficult. Maybe I should have let James come with me. Still, I needed something.

  A quick glance around the area provided no answers . . . except a slender wrought-iron trellis lying flat on the ground, just a short jog along the wall. Like someone had left it there to put up later. It was two stories tall, meant for one of the smaller Hawksbill mansions, most likely.

  I grabbed the trellis and dragged it toward the wall, prickly iron scraping my palms. It was heavy, and while I wasn’t weak, this was really a two-man job. I needed to lean it up against the wall.

  After a few panicked minutes of checking my surroundings and trying to figure out the easiest way to move the trellis, I dragged the bottom against the wall and then moved around to the top. After a few deep breaths, I heaved the top up and over my head. My shoulders and arms strained as I walked forward, lifting the trellis as I went. The weight behind me grew and the bottom ahead began to lift—but it caught against the wall, providing a small measure of leverage as I heaved the trellis into an upright position and leaned it against the top of the wall.

  My arms and shoulders and chest throbbed as I adjusted the trellis into a somewhat stable position. My palms, too, ached with the scrape of iron. My skin felt raw. I should have worn gloves.

  Already regretting the decision to come out so unprepared, I hoisted myself onto the trellis and began climbing. The steps weren’t evenly spaced like a ladder—not that I’d ever climbed a ladder—and the whole thing wobbled under my weight, but soon I was halfway up, and then all the way up.

  I rolled onto the walkway at the top of the wall and groaned, staring up at the sky.

  This business of sneaking out was much harder than I’d anticipated. But before I could really feel sorry for myself—for getting myself into this situation—I saw the city.

  It stretched far beyond what I’d imagined, glowing with mirrors hung on every mansion and shop and tower. Streetlights in the nearby neighborhoods shone with a heady cheer, and people chatted and moved about along all the main streets. At least, what looked like the main streets. It had been ages since I’d been out of Hawksbill, and even then I’d been confined to a carriage with the windows curtained.

  There was so much I didn’t know about my own city. The street names. Where the boundaries between districts lay. Where criminals liked to work.

  One day I’d be king and I knew nothing about my own city. Because according to my father, it was unsafe.

  This was unacceptable. I needed to learn. I needed Father to grant me some freedoms. Bringing down Hensley seemed like the surest way to prove my worth.

  There was no more time to dally. I glanced over the Thornton side of the wall, briefly considering how much effort it would take to drag the trellis over the wall. A lot of effort. There had to be an easier way.

  Then I saw it. A figure in the distance, hopping from rooftop to rooftop. A long braid whipped behind her as she moved stealthily around the peaked roofs and chimneys and mirrors. Another girl followed close behind. They paused on a nearby roof, crouched low, and the first girl pointed at something on the street.

  After a moment, they angled toward an alley side of the roof and descended using brickwork and crates as stairs. Within heartbeats, they dis
appeared into the crowd.

  They were probably thieves, but they had the right idea. I scanned the nearby rooftops and found some kind of shop close by. Close enough to jump to. At least, I hoped.

  “Please, saints,” I muttered, “don’t let me fall to my death.” Or, more likely, fall to my shattered legs.

  I checked along and below the wall as I came even with my target roof. No one. If I broke every bone in my legs and hips, I’d at least have some privacy.

  After five deep breaths to steady my thoughts, I coiled my muscles and took a short running start before pushing off the ledge.

  Empty air.

  Empty air.

  Roof.

  I hit the shingles with a loud thump and tumble, and something slammed against the silver mask, pushing it askew. My raw hands scraped for something to hold on to as I slid toward the edge. The toes of my boots caught on a gutter. My fingers clenched around a thin pipe.

  My breaths came fast and ragged, but I was alive, and all my bones were intact, as far as I could tell. Trying not to think too hard about my near death, I straightened the mask and vowed to get a better one for the next time I sneaked out. Mask. Gloves. Different clothes, too; already I could feel scrapes and bruises forming beneath my training clothes.

  From the roof of the shop, I found some interesting brickwork, as the girls had, and made my way to the ground. There were no people in the narrow alley between the wall and Thornton shops, and all the lights were off in the buildings close by. That was something. Still, I didn’t want to linger.

  I jogged along the wall for a little ways, toward the gate where Knight should be coming through any minute. If I hadn’t already missed him. Getting over the wall had taken much longer than I’d thought it would.

  But then I saw his shape, hunched against the crowd of people on the main street. He moved quickly, leaving me no choice but to plunge into the crowd after him.

  A few people startled and gave me extra space as they noticed my mask and the sword on my back, but no one cried out. Apparently news of a saint-robber hadn’t come out of Hawksbill yet. They’d remember the mask and sword, but I definitely couldn’t risk anyone remembering my face. Most of these people had no idea what I looked like, but it only took one person for the news to get back to my father. If I could learn to hop rooftops like those girls, that would dramatically improve my sneaking.