by Lori M. Lee
I can still sense the talisman nearby. Turning, I follow its lure toward the door leading out to the balcony. I edge forward, motioning for Theyen to remain where he is as I peer down the corridor. The spidersilk curtains are tied back, revealing Queen Meilyr at her balcony. It overlooks Vos Talwyn and Needle Bay. She must be watching the ships below, but I can’t see anything beyond the slowly brightening sky.
Standing a few paces behind the queen is Yen. Her head is bowed, and her shoulder and hand are still bandaged, although the dressings are thinner than when she visited me in my cell. The queen’s soft, clipped instructions carry in the quiet.
“… stalling. Look at them. Cowards. As soon as the other ships arrive, they’ll be outnumbered.”
“Should I check on the prisoners, Your Majesty?”
“I’ve already sent soldiers to have them secured. See if you can find out which ship my brother is on. I want him taken alive.” Subtle anger punctuates her command. She must view Prince Meilek’s actions as a grievous betrayal. The irony would be funny if there weren’t so many lives on the line.
Although the chain around her waist isn’t visible beneath vibrant saffron-colored sashes, the talisman’s presence is undeniable. I grip my weapons tight, send a prayer to the Sisters for strength, and then tap one blade against the door in a quick knock.
Silence falls at once. Theyen remains out of sight as I wait, my back pressed to the wall. My heartbeat quickens. I close my eyes, wishing for the battle calm. My magic wraps around my shoulders, still but alert.
The tip of Yen’s sword appears through the door, and I strike.
She blocks neatly with only one hand and then blocks again when I swing the second sword. Teeth clenched, I summon every ounce of strength I can spare and slam her against the wall, my swords at her neck.
She cranes her head back and shouts, “Run!”
My gaze darts to Theyen, but he’s already shot past us, his shadows leaping ahead of him. The queen screams as her escape into a separate compartment behind the balcony is cut off. Shadowy figures wind around her, their movements boneless and unnerving.
Yen’s knee collides with my gut. I grunt as she grips my wrists and shoves my swords away from her neck. She groans through her teeth at the strain against her wounds, but they must be mostly healed by now. Kendara would have taught her the herbs and medicinal pastes to hasten healing.
I back away, rolling my shoulders and twirling my swords. I might be weak, but I know better than to let her see. She hesitates, taking my measure, calculating her odds.
“Come with us,” I say suddenly, unsure where the words come from. Even though Yen betrayed Prince Meilek’s trust, part of me can’t stand the injustice of her protecting the woman responsible for her mother’s death. I know what it is to have no options—to be certain that only one path exists, no matter who I must become to walk it.
My offer catches her by surprise. Then she sneers and attacks. I parry easily, twisting around the cut of her blade to ram the pommel of my sword into her back. She stumbles but only for a second before lashing out again.
“I’m serious,” I say, avoiding another slash only to find Yen’s foot planted into my gut. My back hits the wall, bruising my shoulder blades. I hiss a curse, then block a quick attack before reversing our positions, jamming my elbow beneath her chin.
Her teeth are bared and her eyes wild. It’s a far cry from the bright, grinning girl I met so many weeks ago. “And then what?” she spits. “Abandon my siblings? The queen will take out her fury on them. I’m not some nameless orphan with no family. I have people who depend on me.”
Anger crystalizes inside me, disgust with her tired insults drowning out what sympathy I’d had.
I smash the hilt of my sword into her knee. She cries out as I hook her ankle and drag her leg out from beneath her. She falls hard, kicking up her other leg to take me down with her. I dodge, pinning her sword hand with one knee as my blades close once again around her neck.
Yen is a fearsome fighter and a talented actress. But there’s a reason she wasn’t first choice for Shadow, and we both know well enough that even injured, my skills outmatch hers. She scowls up at me, breathing hard, sweat beading at her temples.
“I do have a family,” I tell her, hearing the words spoken out loud for the first time. “And she’s depending on me too.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Before Yen can reply, shadows lash her to the ground. I back away as she struggles, kicking and snarling.
I turn to see Theyen’s shadow creatures tear the talisman from around the queen’s waist. As Theyen takes it from them, he tenses. A shudder races through him, fingers convulsing around the talisman’s bone cage.
“Theyen?” I ask. He can’t feel the soul within, not the way I can, but I wonder what he can sense of the talisman’s magic.
His gaze snaps to mine. As he strolls toward me, he adjusts his grip so that he’s holding the chain, not the talisman. “Let’s go.”
On the balcony, the queen kneels in layers of spidersilk. Her face is flushed with anger, her chest heaving, as she claws against the stone and shouts for reinforcements.
The doors to her apartments tremble as her Queen’s Guard attempts to break through. I take Theyen’s arm, glad to be gone as his shadow gate opens.
He doesn’t take us far, and we emerge in the gardens. As I suck in a lungful of air, Theyen tugs me into the bushes. The call of soldiers sounds somewhere nearby. Once my nausea passes, Theyen passes me the talisman as if eager to be rid of it. The soul within pulses against my palms. So much power compressed into so small a thing. Unnerved, I shove it into my pocket.
We cut through the garden, staying close to the ground. It doesn’t take long to reach the servants’ paths that lead into the vegetable gardens. Saengo, Prince Meilek, Kou, and five other Blades are waiting for us.
“I can only get us out one at a time,” Theyen says, noting the diminishing night, “but it’ll be faster than trying to escape through the city.”
Prince Meilek opens his mouth just as a horn blasts through the palace grounds. We crouch against the garden wall, hidden behind rows of tall, hanging tomato plants. The horn blasts again, followed by shouting and dozens of booted feet.
“My sister knows I’m here,” Prince Meilek says. “She’s ordered the entire palace locked down.”
Through the bushes, soldiers rush past to reach their posts. We’re too exposed here. Prince Meilek begins to stand, but I grab his arm and pull him down beside me before he can do something stupid.
“Theyen, get everyone out. Start with Prince Meilek. Hurry.” I turn to run and nearly collide with Saengo.
She grabs my shoulders, looking like she’d prefer to strangle me. “You can’t do this. You’ll be captured again.”
“It should be one of us,” Kou says.
I shake my head. “The queen wants most of you dead. She won’t be able to hurt me. She needs me alive.” I stab my swords into the earth and push Saengo back, gripping her wrists. “Get to your family, you understand me? They’ll protect you.”
“Sirscha,” she says, anger and pain bridging our connection, leaving an ache in my chest.
“Have faith. I won’t let her catch me again. I’ve got a talisman to destroy, remember?” I press the hilt of one of my swords into her hands and then nudge her back toward Theyen.
Before anyone else can protest, I retrieve my other sword and dart from the bushes, leaping over a row of cabbages. I’d told Saengo that I was her friend, not her keeper. But sometimes being a friend means forcing her out of danger’s way, especially when she’s too stubborn to do it herself.
Shouting erupts behind me. Soldiers crash through the carefully cultivated rows, crushing plants and tearing up supports wrapped in beanstalks. I vault the low wall surrounding the vegetable gardens and dash into the maze of the flower gardens. Here, the bushes grow thicker and higher, flowering trees clustered at every turn.
Saengo and I used to sneak ba
ck here through the enclosed paths that connect the palace grounds to the two Companies. The guard assigned to those gates was a relative of House Phang. I likely know these routes better than the soldiers chasing me. I veer left, rushing between two plum trees and onto a separate path that will lead me toward the Prince’s Company.
The passage is usually guarded, but with everything going on, I might have luck on my side. Crouching, I slip behind a neatly trimmed line of shoulder-high hedges and run right into Prince Meilek.
He puts up a hand to stall my instinctual attack, and my heart leaps into my throat.
“What are you doing here?” Theyen was supposed to take him first. “And how in the Sisters did you beat me?” I’m too anxious to bother tempering my tone.
He shrugs one shoulder. “I’ve been playing in these gardens since I was a boy. I know all its secrets. There’s a spot along the wall where we can get out into the city. Come on.”
I follow him, dropping to my stomach beneath a thick patch of hydrangea just as my pursuers reach us. Their boots trample the surrounding flowers, destroying what took royal gardeners weeks or months to cultivate. Although they pass quickly, I can hear more coming.
Prince Meilek gestures with his head, and we crawl on knees and elbows until we reach another path. When it’s clear, we rise and dart into a copse of magnolia trees.
“Saengo?” I ask quietly.
“Theyen took her.”
Relief rushes through me. “You should have gone with them.”
“I promised her I would come after you. Besides, you spent four years sneaking in and out, but I’ve been doing this my whole life. We’ll make our way to the coast and rendezvous—”
“I have to go to Spinner’s End.”
He gives me an incredulous look. “I trust you’ll recall the last time you said that to me.”
I cringe but barrel on. “I can’t remove his familiar’s soul from the talisman. Not without more power—his power.”
I don’t think I need to be in Spinner’s End. Our magic connects us. I just need to get inside the Dead Wood. The closer I am to him, the stronger his influence and the deeper his power could root into mine.
“That’s a two-day journey,” he points out.
“I’m aware.” While Vos Talwyn sits at Evewyn’s western border, the Dead Wood resides along its eastern. It’s a long way to go without getting caught.
Ahead, half-hidden behind enormous magnolia trees, two statues stand sentinel against a section of the garden wall that merges with the palace wall. The left statue is of the Demon Crone. She’s hunched, bent by age, her long hair flowing around a withered face and two horns that spiral from either side of her head. The other statue is the Mother Serpent, her long snake’s tail coiled in the foliage.
“Is it wise to take that anywhere near the Soulless?” he asks, nodding toward the talisman in my pocket.
“There’s no other choice.”
Besides, the sooner we get this done, the better. Delay means allowing the queen time to plan her retaliation. And with every passing moment, the Soulless grows stronger.
Prince Meilek frowns. I can tell he has more concerns, but he doesn’t voice them. Instead, he tugs me between the two statues, concealing us from view, and then points upward.
“Climb,” he says.
Securing my sword with my sash, I climb. I find footholds in the folds of the Demon Crone’s robes, the massive staff cradled in the Mother Serpent’s elbow, and a stooped shoulder crusted with dead leaves. Once we’ve climbed past the statue’s heads, the thick foliage of the magnolia grove blocks us from view.
“Is this how you and Queen Meilyr used to escape the palace?”
He nods. “Our parents never found out, so we kept the secret. It infuriated them.”
My heart hurts as his voice softens with remembrance. “I can go alone,” I tell him.
“Hlau Theyen and Kou will make sure the ships retreat to Kazahyn. My sister won’t pursue them. She doesn’t have the numbers yet. Besides, she’ll focus on following us, which means it’ll be dangerous. You need someone to watch your back.”
Reluctantly, I nod. I touch the Mother Serpent’s cowl. Beneath it, her slit pupils stare ahead, and her full mouth stretches into a serene smile. I murmur, “Thank you for your protection.”
When we reach the top of the wall, we linger just below the ledge. The sentinels are looking southward toward the sea and the ships. Silently, we climb over the ledge and scuttle the short distance to the other side. Within heartbeats, we’re on the ground, plunging into the bustle of the city.
We find Yandor waiting almost exactly where I left him, finishing off what might have once been a small lizard.
“That’s disgusting,” I say. Yandor only tosses his head at me.
Fortunately, we find Saengo’s drake nearby as well. Drakes don’t usually carry two riders, although they’re strong enough to accommodate the extra weight for short periods.
We keep to the forests when we can. Every town we pass buzzes with news of the escape from the Valley of Cranes and the brief siege on Vos Talwyn.
On the evening of the following day, while weaving through the thick underbrush of Evewyn’s forests, a foul scent stings my nose. Behind us, gray plumes billow through the trees, accompanied by an acrid, eye-burning stench. The queen’s soldiers are attempting to smoke us out into the open. I suspected we were being pursued, but I hadn’t expected them to catch up so quickly.
Maybe they’re soldiers from the last town we stopped in to water our drakes. We must have been spotted. Still, we remain ahead of them, continuing through the night. It’s summer, and the dense foliage provides decent cover. The next morning, the trees begin to thin, making way for farmland and a clear view of the Dead Wood against the horizon.
We cross several farms quickly before ducking into the shelter of a small green wood bordering the crop fields. Our pursuers are close enough that I can spot their figures chasing our trail through the farms’ open fields. There are less than a dozen of them, likely traveling ahead of the queen’s main force to try and cut us off. They’re riding dragules, which are leaner and faster than drakes. No wonder they’d caught up so quickly.
Before long, the cover of trees ends again at another field. This one is wide and empty, grown wild with tall grass and wildflowers. It’s been left alone and untended because at its other end lies the Dead Wood.
Behind us, shouts echo through the branches. Our pursuers are nearly here.
I dismount and hand Yandor’s reins to Prince Meilek. “You’ll have to go now if you want to outrun the queen. Hopefully, they’ll think we both went into the Dead Wood.”
“You keep finding ways to continue alone,” he says. “But you don’t have to.”
I swallow down the annoying lump that rises in my throat. “I know that,” I say, softer now. It means more than I can say that some will risk everything to help me. I don’t know if this is what it means to have a family, but if it is, then I can’t risk losing any of them. “But I have to do this alone. Please, Your Highness. Please save yourself.”
As soon as the words escape me, I know we’re out of time. The commotion of multiple dragules trampling through the undergrowth is too close. The glare of armor and the green of soldiers’ uniforms flash through the trees. Cursing, I snatch back the reins from Prince Meilek and vault onto Yandor’s back.
“Okay, then. We run for it.” In an instant, we take off across the overgrown field.
We’re exposed, the clear sky providing no shelter, but there’s no helping it. Within moments, the queen’s soldiers burst from the trees behind us.
Ahead, the decay of the Dead Wood awaits, branches stretching out to embrace us. I grit my teeth and summon my craft. Magic snaps around my fingers, thrilling and eager. Yandor lowers his head, roaring as he charges bravely toward the trees.
Then, suddenly, he’s falling, his strong legs going out from beneath him.
TWENTY-NINE
W
e crash through the high grass. For brief seconds, there’s only pain as my body hits the earth.
Prince Meilek calls my name, but I barely hear it, my ears ringing. I try not to move as I struggle for breath. At last, when my lungs fill with a hoarse gasp, I roll onto my stomach and push to my feet. My hip and knee sting, but I don’t think anything is broken. I limp to Yandor, who’s still lying on his side, thrashing.
An arrow is lodged in his thigh. He tosses his head, growling as he tries to stand again. Fury closes white-hot around my throat.
“Stay down,” I say, yanking on his reins. His claws nearly catch my skin as he thrashes, but I dodge and press my palms to his shoulder. “Please. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Yandor snarls, but listens and remains on his side, panting and snuffling at the tall grass. In an instant, the queen’s soldiers surround us, cutting off our escape, arrows nocked. The Dead Wood is close, their branches nearly overhead. Only a second longer, and we would’ve made it.
I close my eyes, resting my forehead against Yandor’s neck. His scales are warm against my skin. My hand cups my pocket, the shape of the talisman pressing through the fabric. Am I close enough to the trees? It doesn’t take long to realize I’m not. It’s hard to sense the souls of the Dead Wood with the talisman’s presence thrumming through my skin. It’s like a beacon, demanding my attention.
After several minutes, when still no one has said anything, I look up. The half dozen mounted soldiers pen us in, arrows primed to shoot. Prince Meilek remains mounted as well, and he’s looking westward.
When I remove my sword from Yandor’s saddle, one soldier twitches. I expect an arrow to pierce my hand, but no attack comes, and I stand. I don’t know that either Prince Meilek or myself could avoid getting shot at such close range, but we’d put up a good fight. Perhaps long enough for us to get inside the Dead Wood.