I nodded absently, brushing Ro’s feathers to soothe him.
“Were you following us?”
My hand stopped at his question, which likely made me seem suspicious. It was difficult to hide the truth from him, but if I answered honestly, the questions that followed might be dangerous for me.
“Sort of. We’re headed the same direction.”
“But wouldn’t it be faster to fly in a straight line than to follow a winding road?”
It was definitely time to be away. Now that I could be sure they wouldn’t panic and send out a hunting party looking for Ro, there was no reason to stay. I climbed back up on the log and onto the saddle. “These are dangerous times, Highness, and the roads aren’t safe with so many displaced, poor, and hungry because of the war. There’s another road about a mile back that way. It joins with this one again after a while, but even the extra time it adds to your journey would be less than what would be spent clearing this blockage. You can pass the word about it at the next town. They’ll warn travelers of it and send someone to clear it without delaying you.” I laid down and let the leather restraints wrap around me. “Try not to lose more guards before Torell. It’s inconvenient if we have to save you again, Highness.”
Ro spread his wings and took to the air once more, not waiting for Prince Willem’s reply.
Chapter 13
“I don’t know how long I’ll be here,” I said, adjusting my pack. “The festival runs the whole week, and I have to take advantage of there being other Bards in the city.”
“I cannot stay close,” Ro said as he shifted his weight. “Too many people and nowhere to hide.”
I nodded. “I understand. Where will you go?”
He cocked his head to one side, thinking. “The dark forest keeps humans away. I will be there by sundown.”
“Two hours then,” I said. “I’ll be mindful of that. If I need to, I’ll leave the city and head that way.” I wrapped my arms around his neck for a last hug. “Please be safe. I’ll miss you.”
“And I you, Lady.”
With that, he stretched his wings and took to the air, circling once before heading due south.
The days of travel saw no further incident for Prince Willem’s carriage, for which I was grateful. I still hadn’t made peace with his confession about his dreams and wasn’t sure what to think. If someone planted them in his mind, what did that mean for me? Was I meant to trust him, or had a dark force crossed our paths?
Pulling the compass from my pocket, I mulled it over. I’d taken it for granted that Crilla told me truthfully when she said it was from my mother. What if it was a distraction from whatever I was meant to do? The arrow pointed steadily southeast, towards Torell and the prince’s company, as they were nearly there when Ro and I strayed to keep out of sight. All told, it mattered little whether or not I believed he would somehow lead me to my mother. I had no other leads on her whereabouts, and Lord DeBauch had said other Bards would be at the festival, so where better to start the search? If nothing else, I could learn more about my abilities from whatever Bards did attend.
The two-mile walk to the main gate of Torell afforded me time to think, though the occasional distraction in the form of rats dashing across the road gave me pause from time to time. My first stop would be at the Minkov home, though I didn’t assume they’d offer to house me. After speaking with them, I’d see about where I might find employment. With the festival going on, there’d be no short supply of musicians, but Bards were rare from what I knew of them. Likely as not, I’d still be able to find something on my own. Though I’d rather not accept it, if I had no other recourse, Lady Jacinda had extended an offer to house me, so there was that as well.
The closer I got to Torell, the more crowded the road became, both with people and, curiously, more rats. When the towering walls surrounding the heart of the city came into view, I was engulfed by carriages, carts, single riders, and travelers on foot. A small platoon of royal guards, their gray-green capes flowing behind their armored forms, stopped everyone going over the bridge, asking names, occupations, and purposes for visiting. Knowing Prince Willem intended to have me at the castle, and would have told his guards about me by then, I immediately decided not to announce my presence so soon. I needed time to seek information on my own.
“Name?” the guard asked, arms crossed in front of him.
“Coris Minkov.”
“Occupation?”
“None as yet, sir,” I said, only half lying.
He frowned. “Purpose of visit?”
“I’m to visit with my cousins during the festival, to look after young Prudence some.” I was getting better at deception, I decided. If I told partial truths and left the rest out, I wasn’t entirely lying.
The guard glanced over my shoulder. “You’ve a lute with you,” he said, seeing the neck protruding from my pack. “You’re not a minstrel?”
“I’m still learning,” I replied.
His eyes narrowed at me, but a prompting from the guard to his left saw me waved through in favor of keeping the line moving. I left him with a smile and proceeded through the formidable gates of the capital city. Once inside, my steps slowed. My gaze drifted from the dusty cobblestones of the road, up its winding path around the rising heights of city before me. The buildings spiraled around the mountain they were built upon, layers of homes and businesses stacked upon one another like an enormous cake. The tide of traffic swept me up, and it was either move or be crushed beneath wheels, hooves, and feet. There would be time later for sightseeing.
Every corner I passed held at least one minstrel playing or singing to the crowds. At each turn, a new song found its way into my head. Where once I lived in a musical wasteland, I worried that I might be drowned in too much of it in Torell. My head began to ache. I needed a reprieve.
I ducked down a side street, turning away from most of the noise. Several blocks down, I found a small bakery with mouth-watering aromas spilling from its open doorway. It looked as good a place as any to stop for directions, and I might even pick up something to present to the Minkovs when I arrived unannounced. My funds might not be bountiful, but I could spare enough for a small treat.
The young girl at the counter looked harried as she rushed from the back room to the front endlessly, her long, blonde braid draped over her shoulder, small hairs escaping and flying out in wild directions. A single patron in front of me picked up a large box from after paying the stout man attending her, and she stepped away, crowding past me to be off with her goods.
“May I help you?” the man asked with the barest hint of disdain as he took in my appearance.
“Two things, please,” I said. When I opened my mouth to ask after the small cake behind him, the feel of something running across my boot made me jump. The tail end of a rat disappeared behind a shelf.
The man sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “My apologies. I’d offer my assurance that our kitchen is vermin-free, but none ever believe me.”
I shuddered as my scalp tickled. “It’s only in the front, then?”
“Yes,” he said, his shoulders slumping. “They’re my punishment for failing to pay the Piper.”
“Pardon?”
“Gertie does her best,” he said, motioning to the girl, who I saw carried a thick stick, “but she’s no match for the Piper’s curse.”
As I caught sight of another rat skittering across the floor, I frowned. “You’re saying someone cursed you with rats?”
He nodded. “When a business owner fails to pay her protection fees, this is what happens. Even with the festival here, I’ll be forced to leave by month’s end.”
“That’s horrible. Can’t anyone do something about it?”
“They’ve tried,” he said. “If a city attempts to run her out, every building becomes infested.”
“How does she accomplish such a thing?”
A thwack from behind the counter interrupted us briefly, but he continued on. “She’s gifted wi
th a pipe. She draws the rats to a place and convinces them to stay.”
Magical blackmail? I bristled. Even with my considerable gifts, I’d never sought payment for not harming others. That another used her talents in such a way made me sick. Perhaps I’d pay her a visit later, but, for the moment, I might be able to alleviate the baker’s suffering.
I wasn’t sure exactly what I could do, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Setting my pack down, I removed my lute and tuned it a little.
“Every musician in town has tried to counter the curse,” the baker said. “There’s nothing to be done but pay her what she’s asked or leave.”
I strummed a single chord and smiled at him. “Then there’s little harm in trying, as you’ll be no worse off if I fail.”
Closing my eyes, I focused on my goal. Unlike any performance before, my targets were not human, but rats. Distantly, I heard a soft squeak from one of the animals and held onto it, turning it over in my head. My fingers slid down the strings of the lute to the higher pitches, and I plucked at the instrument in experimentation. Before long, the notes turned into strange chords, nothing like tunes I’d played before, but I held onto the feeling, certain of my instincts.
All things return from whence they came
The moth drawn to the flame.
Follow the path led by what’s called to you
And freedom finds you in the end.
I repeated the words over and over, my feet slowly moving for the door. When I felt the stones of the road beneath me, I opened my eyes. Dozens of rats were gathered around me, mesmerized by my song. They sat back on their haunches, swaying back and forth as the tune rose and fell, their eyes half-lidded. Others joined the herd as I sang, scurrying from other buildings lining the street. Human spectators, stunned, stared out at me from windows and doorways, their mouths gaping.
When the last rat joined the others, I strummed the final keening chord. The animals stared up at me, blinking in confusion.
“Off with you now,” I said, shooing them away. “You mustn’t let others control you so. Some may not be as kind as me and would see you all dead rather than within the city. Best take advantage of that and clear out.”
At once, the herd turned and ran, heading for what I’d guess were the city limits. Hopefully they’d take their friends with them and leave the Piper with none left to control.
A great cheer rose up around me, startling me out of thought. A harsh slap on the back propelled me into a stumble, but I was caught by the multitude of hands waiting to shake mine. I managed surprised acknowledgments to the thanks from the two dozen people, and nearly recovered all of my wits by the time the baker found me again.
“You have my endless gratitude, young lady,” he said as he showed me back into his business. “I’ve not much to my name, but I’ll pay whatever you ask.”
“Could you give me directions?” I asked, grinning.
He blinked at me, as though trying to process my words. “Directions?”
I nodded. “Asking for payment would make me no better than the one that cursed you. I’m looking for friends of mine, and I wonder if you might know where they live.”
When I told him who I was looking for, not only did he give me directions to the Minkov home, but sent me away with the white-frosted cake I’d been eyeing before. He firmly refused my offer of payment when I tried, and told me I would always be welcome in his business or home had I need of anything.
With sunset coloring the pale buildings, I decided to head straight for the Minkovs. The Piper could wait for another day.
“Get up! Get up, Jack!” Prudence squealed as she pounced on me, waking me from deep within a dream.
I sat up with a shout, knocking her back on the bed with rolling giggles. “Spirits take me, you scared me half to death,” I said, trying to slow my racing heart.
She sprang forward on all fours, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “The festival starts today. How can you still be asleep?”
Per the clock beside my bed, it was barely past seven. I groaned and rubbed my eyes. “It’s been a long few days. I was tired.”
“Well, you’re up now,” she said, bouncing off of the bed. “Daniella put some clothes over there for you, so if you get changed, you can come have breakfast with us.” Prudence bounded over to the door, happy as ever. “If we hurry, we can get to the festival grounds in time to see the musicians setting up.”
The door closed noisily, and I sighed.
When I arrived at the Minkov residence the night before, I was met with smiles and hugs all around. It had taken Mrs. Minkov an extra hour to get Prudence to sleep, but I waited it out to speak to both her and Mr. Minkov in private. I didn’t give them the full story, but they listened raptly as I explained what I’d discovered about myself and who I was looking for. I gave a brief demonstration to prove my claim, explaining that my fine lute had been a gift from my first host. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but I felt badly for keeping the rest from them.
“I thought perhaps Prudence could show you to the festival today,” Mrs. Minkov said over breakfast. “I’ve not heard tell of any Bards in town as yet, but word has it at least two or three are en route. I’d take you myself, but I need to put the final touches on the king’s doublet for the closing gala. I’m due to present it to him in three days, so I’m on a bit of a deadline.”
I swallowed a bite of eggs. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble on my account. It’s kind enough of you to allow me to stay here for a few days. I’m more than happy to spend time with Prudence.”
“It’s really very fortunate you arrived when you did,” Mr. Minkov said. “Prudence has been begging to see the festival grounds for a week, but we’ve been so busy with requests from the palace, there hasn’t been time to take her.”
I grinned at Prudence as she anxiously picked at a pastry. “I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time, won’t we?”
Her little face lit up, beaming at me. “Definitely!”
“You should eat up, then.” I pointed my fork at her barely touched breakfast. “Likely as not, we won’t eat again until lunch, and the sooner you finish, the faster we can leave.”
It was all the prompting she needed to shovel her food in at a pace that horrified her mother.
The streets of Torell were even more crowded than the evening before, and I reminded Prudence several times not to let go of my hand as we wound our way around the city. I caught glimpses of the occasional rat, however, prompting my frown. The main festival grounds were on the far side of town, opposite from the enormous gates, with smaller stages erected at several open squares along the way. People were everywhere, though something felt off about their smiles.
The longer I considered it, the clearer it became. While everyone seemed happy enough, it was only for their company, usually family, with no time spared for those they passed by. No one greeted one another. No one made eye contact. Even with the distraction of the festival, there was no kindness anywhere to be seen. I looked closer. Men bore battle scars, some missing limbs. Women wore exhaustion like a shawl, clinging tightly to whoever was nearby. Even the children seemed more subdued than they should.
The shadows of war crowded around me, constricting my lungs as Prudence dragged me through the streets. No matter where we went, specters nipped at me, dancing in my peripheral vision. By the time we reached the festival grounds, tears pricked the corners of my eyes and my heart was bursting with the need to bring comfort to these people burdened by over two years of needless, ceaseless battle. What could I do for them but bring a small bit of sunshine into their darkened lives?
The sight of the royal palace served as a little distraction from my feelings of futility. As I paused to look up at the grand spires of the castle rising from the top of the mountain, the familiar ache of an unkept promise poked at me. I didn’t know how long I could hold out before announcing myself to the royal family, but I would as long as possible. Sometimes anonymity was a blessing. My conver
sation with Crilla and her unwavering determination not to speak of my mother left me feeling as though the longer I kept my head down, the less danger I’d have to avoid in my search. Eventually I’d have to make myself known, though what would come of it was anyone’s guess.
“Come on, Jack,” Prudence whined, pulling at my hand. “We’re nearly there. We might still find seats.”
Breaking away from gazing at the palace, we continued down the far side of the city’s slope. It wasn’t long before the wide expanse of the grounds came into view at the bottom of the hill. I imagined the place was typically used as a market, but at that moment it was filled with brightly painted stands, circles for dancing, and a long stage set inside a pavilion of raised benches. Aromas of all sorts of sweets and roasted meat twisted together, combining with the scents of horses and humans to create something alive, tangible with energy. Shouts of merchants hawking their imported goods drifted over the broken strains of carts rattling by and songs unable to fully rise over the din of chaos. Streamers in bright colors hung from every pole and line strung between structures, flagging in the gentle breeze of morning. I took every second of it in, wide-eyed. Not even in Breen had I seen such an amazing gathering of life.
The shadow of war crept into my admiration again, however, and I hatefully acknowledged it. I despised it for ruining the event for myself and the others in attendance. What a wonder it would’ve been to experience during peaceful times.
To Prudence’s chagrin, we were far too late and not noble enough to command seats in the grand pavilion. We contented ourselves with a decent vantage point to the side and knowing we’d be entertained soon enough.
A trumpet fanfare preceded a clownish oaf that tripped and tumbled across the stage, welcoming one and all to the first inaugural kingdom-wide celebration of song and dance. Giant plumes of smoke erupted behind him, sending him rolling to the floor once more. Prudence couldn’t contain her giggles as he righted himself and promptly slipped on the colored confetti raining down from the rafters above him. With a final “all hail King Ivor,” the first act of many took the stage. The crowd half-heartedly cheered the king, but the applause was genuine for the troupe of musicians hurrying into position.
The Stillness of the Sky: A Flipped Fairy Tale (Flipped Fairy Tales) Page 13