Seeker of the Crown

by Ruth Lauren

  I look at the ground and scuff my boot in the snow. “It’s already way after breakfast. If one of us doesn’t go back, Mother and Father will worry.”

  “You don’t want me to come?” There’s an edge of hurt in her voice, and I raise my eyes to hers.

  “It’s not that.” But it is, a little.

  She opens her mouth to protest, but then understanding flashes in her eyes. She blinks. “You’re right. I can’t do as the queen asked and help Father reform Tyur’ma if I’m chasing escaped criminals through the streets.”

  “Technically, we’re escaped criminals,” says Feliks with a grin that reminds me of when I first met him. Katia rubs the cuff of her fur over the sooty mark on his face, but it only fades to gray.

  Sasha takes my hand. “I’ll tell Mother … Well, I’ll tell her something that doesn’t involve the docks.” She drops her coin purse into my palm. “Just in case.”

  I squeeze her hand, then slip the purse into my pocket and pull my mittens on. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Feliks knows a way through the backstreets that he insists we take. Though they’re still piled high with snow, not clear like the main streets, I’m glad he does. I feel wary and unsettled, and I’m glad to be on lesser-known paths.

  The sun is up in the sky, iced lemon against pale blue. Narrow houses lean over us on both sides of the street. The way Feliks and Katia keep checking around us puts me on edge. But I need to be on edge. The princess had eyes and ears inside the prison—she could have them anywhere.

  Feliks glances up. “Good thing we found each other early today. Much better to be at the docks in the light of day.”

  I smell the docks before I see them—a briny tinge of salt water, wet wood, and fish carrying on the air. Before long, Feliks’s route leads us out of a tiny alley and onto the dockside. Far around the curve of the harbor, a small fleet of great sailing ships sits on the water, some with sails furled tight, others with them hanging from their masts.

  “Watch it.”

  I’m shoved backward, my bow scraping against the wall of the pawnshop we’ve just passed. A hulking figure scowls at me and then stomps past, her boots grinding into the dirty, snow-covered cobbles.

  “Heads down,” says Feliks. “Don’t draw attention. Just let me ask around. I’ll find out if anyone knows where Natalia might be.”

  He darts away, leaping over a plank that joins the dockside to a tar-covered wreck of a ship that looks as though it’s held together more by barnacles and grim determination than any carpentry skills. Sailors wheel goods up and down the plank, cursing at one another as they shift stinking crates of fish.

  A bell jangles behind us, and Katia leaps forward as the door of the pawnshop is flung open and a woman with a filthy scarlet tunic showing beneath her furs bangs out through it. I pull Katia out of the way and into the mouth of the alley. She peeks around the corner, and I watch her wary face as she scans the scene. It makes me smile, remembering the night Warden Kirov shoved me into Katia’s cell right after I arrived at Tyur’ma. After that first conversation, I never thought she’d help me, much less become my friend.

  My smile fades. Katia’s fingers, pressed against the stone wall, are even thinner than before. I have to make sure she gets pardoned.

  I shift my weight back and forth between my feet. “How long do you think Feliks is going to be?”

  Katia shakes her head, her eyes still on the sailors. “You’re dealing with thieves and sailors, so who knows? Took us an entire day to find out where you’d gone and when you were coming back. The queen didn’t exactly advertise your trip to Magadanskya.”

  I never even thought about it that way. I was desperate to get back to Katia and Feliks and find out what they wanted to tell me, but it hadn’t occurred to me that they wouldn’t know where I was. They must have been just as worried as I was, and they could have left the city at any time.

  I touch Katia’s arm. “Thanks for sticking around. For … for everything,” I tell her.

  She focuses her attention on me for a second and smiles. “It was the right thing to do,” she says. Her smile fades too. “You were right. What you said back at the house? I might not like it, but it’s still true: we have to find the princess. We’ll never really be free if we don’t.”

  She goes back to her watch, so I do too. Just down from the pawnshop a door keeps banging open and shut. When it’s open, music and loud voices spill out from within. A tavern. I’ve never been in one, but after some time watching, it seems that every other person who crosses the docks also crosses the doorway of the tavern. And after some more watching, with no sign of Feliks, I’m even more convinced of what I need to do.

  “Keep watch for Feliks. I’ll be back in a minute,” I say. Before Katia can answer, I step out of the alley and dodge my way through the busy street. The tavern door swings open. I duck in, and the door closes behind me.

  A sickly sweet smell hits me, along with a dense cloud of smoke. I blink at the gloomy interior, and a few patrons look at me curiously.

  My heart beats hard, but I step up to the bar at the back of the room as though I know what I’m doing and lean on the wooden counter.

  “What are you doing in here, girl?” calls a rough voice from behind me.

  I don’t turn around, just focus on the bar in front of me.

  The woman behind it splays her big hands on the shiny lacquered surface and jerks her chin at me by way of asking what I want. I can tell by her frown that I have about three seconds before she slings me out.

  “I’m looking for somebody,” I say quickly. “A girl named Natalia—”

  “Lot of people looking for a lot of other people around here.” The woman’s frown deepens. “What makes you think anyone’s going to tell you anything about somebody else’s business? In fact, what do you think you’re doing coming in here in the first place?”

  Several pairs of eyes are on me now, and the smoke in the air—or something else—is making me itch under my furs. It might be the sweat breaking out on my skin. I lift my arm up from the bar, and my sleeve sticks before it pulls free. Maybe this wasn’t one of my better ideas.

  I cast a glance over my shoulder and turn around fast. I’ve taken three steps back toward the door before I even know it.

  I burst out into the street just as someone calls out at me. The door cuts off something very unsavory, and I dash back to Katia, whose lips are pursed so tightly that I can barely see them.

  Feliks is back with her. “What were you thinking going in there?” he asks. “Valor, I know you did a great job getting us out of Tyur’ma, but you’re not invincible. Even Warden Kirov had rules, but things aren’t like that out here.” He pulls out two small coins and rubs them together between his finger and thumb. “This is what talks out here. So I hope you’ve got some, because I just made a big promise to a girl in the network, and you’re going to have to make good on it.”

  I start to pull out the purse Sasha gave me, but Feliks pushes it back into my pocket. “Not here!”

  I swallow. “Sorry.”

  “Just follow me,” he says. There’s a hint of impatience in his voice, and I deserve it. He’s right—I’m just as out of place here as I was in Tyur’ma, but he’s still wearing the same patched furs he had on when I first met him.

  I keep my mouth shut and my eyes cast down, following Feliks as he winds between dockworkers and sailors, travelers shrouded in heavy cloaks and vendors hawking their wares. The dirty snow beneath my boots is stained pink in patches. I step around them, and Katia nudges me. Feliks has stopped by a tiny girl with a tray of fire inch-sticks hanging around her neck.

  “This her?” she says to Feliks. He nods, and the girl glances around and holds out a small, grimy hand. I pull out my purse halfway, then look to Feliks. He nods, so I take out a silver coin and place it on the girl’s palm. Her fingers curl around it and it disappears before I even realize her hand has moved.

  “I know Natalia,” she says. “But she’s
actually been pretty nice to me. What do you want her for?”

  My heart picks up its pace. “I only want to talk to her,” I say. “Just ask a few questions, that’s all.”

  The girl glances away from us, then back. “Maybe I can pass on a message,” she says, holding out her hand again.

  My fingers tighten around the purse. “I really need to talk to her myself. Do you know where she is, or don’t you?”

  She glances away again, but this time she shakes her head, just the tiniest movement.

  I follow her gaze to a squat building to our left. Through the smeared glass of a window someone stares straight at me. Her eyes widen. Natalia.

  The girl in front of me flings down her tray and snatches my purse, ripping it out of my hand. She dashes away, quick as a rat, paying no attention to Katia’s outraged cry.

  Feliks says something behind me, but I’m already running toward Natalia. I swing the door open. A blast of rancid air hits me, and then I’m spinning to the left and running flat-out. Natalia sprints ahead of me, out another door and back onto the docks, weaving through the passengers, sailors, and tradespeople all churning the snow on the cobbles into a gray slush.

  Natalia runs straight up the plank onto the ship I noticed earlier, pushing past a sailor trundling a crate on a wheelbarrow. I follow, my feet bouncing with the slight give of the plank under my boots. There’s a shout and a hand grabs for me, but its fingers only graze my crossbow and then slip away.

  I leap onto the ship, but Natalia’s fast—or desperate. She crosses the deck and darts behind a stack of crates, and I lose sight of her. I push harder, out of breath. My boots slide under me on the damp wood. My heartbeat kicks up another level as I slip, but I right myself, dodging around the crates just in time to see Natalia land and roll on the deck of another ship.

  I scramble over to the side of the ship just as the one Natalia jumped onto moves sideways, cracking the thin sheet of ice across the surface of the sea below. She looks back at me, and a smile starts to curl on her face. I launch myself at the deck she’s on. As soon as I do, I know that I’ve miscalculated. I’m going to come up short.

  Panic bursts through me as I lunge forward, reaching for the side of the ship. My mittens make contact just before my body slams into the curved planks of the hull. It knocks the breath out of me. My face presses against the salt-soaked wood. If I hang here for long, I’ll lose my grip and plunge straight into the freezing water below.

  I pull as hard as I can and try to find purchase with my feet, but my boots can’t get any traction. My breath huffs out. I look down. The water is gray beneath the cracked panes of ice. The gap between the boats is narrowing again. If they meet, I’ll be crushed.

  My right hand slips out of my mitten and I shout, swinging my arm back up, grabbing at the edge. I look back. The ship is closer. Then someone grabs my arm from above and hauls me upward, my shoulder almost wrenching apart.

  I’m dragged over the edge and hit the deck with a thump. I look up to thank my rescuer, but the face above me isn’t concerned, it’s scowling, thick eyebrows pulled low, and there’s a hand reaching for my bow. I jump up and run, pushing past three other sailors in oilskins who are heading my way. The end of the plank that leads back onto the dock thumps, and I see Natalia running full tilt toward an alley.

  I follow, my shoulder burning every time I pump my arm. I’m not losing her now. She wouldn’t be running unless she had something to hide. I hit the cobbles, stumble forward, and then take off again, trying to keep up. Natalia swings around, and I dodge behind an overflowing barrel at the mouth of the alley. The stink of fish emanates from the wooden slats I press against.

  I peer around the curve of the barrel. Natalia’s still standing there, breathing hard, scanning the people walking the docks. I wait, hoping she doesn’t bolt again. Her shoulders relax and she turns, casting a final glance over her shoulder before she hurries away.

  But she’s no longer running.

  I slip out from behind the barrel and trail her, hanging back a little. She moves fast, throwing furtive glances behind her every now and then, winding through the alleys that twist alongside the docks. We pass taverns that are smaller and dingier than the one on the dockside and several buildings proclaiming they have rooms available. I’ve never seen these parts of Demidova before, but I don’t have time to wonder about them now. I keep my eyes on Natalia’s broad back until she stops, looks both ways, and then slips into a narrow doorway. My heart is still beating fast from the chase, but it steps up further now. She thinks she’s lost me, so where is she going?

  I slip out from the cover of a water trough and run up to the doorway. A startled cat bolts out, and I suck in a breath. But I step over the threshold and into a thin corridor, dark and smelling vaguely like the tavern, with a series of closed doors stretching the length of it. A scuffle behind one sends my gaze darting to it.

  I reach back and pull my crossbow into my hands. Not exactly the ideal weapon for an enclosed space, but much better than nothing. I step forward. The door’s slightly ajar, and more noise comes from the room beyond—boots hurrying over a stone floor.

  I look through the crack. Natalia crouches on the floor. A satchel lies next to her, its flap open and spilling clothes that have been hastily shoved inside. She’s messing with something in front of her, but I can’t see what. I nudge the door with the tip of my bolt, but it creaks. Natalia jumps back, and then springs to her feet. I clutch my crossbow tight and kick the door wide, leveling my weapon at her.

  She glances at a small grimy window behind her.

  “I wouldn’t even think about it if I were you,” I say. I can feel my heart beating in the fingertips that are taut on my crossbow.

  “What do you want, Valor?” Natalia narrows her eyes, trying for a nonchalant attitude, but she’s backed up against a wooden chair behind her, her hands clasping it.

  “Where’s Anastasia?” I ask.

  Natalia lets out a humorless laugh. “I’ll tell you where she’s not. She’s not here.”

  I take a step farther into the room and tighten my finger over the trigger. Natalia swallows.

  “Where is Anastasia?”

  “Just stop. I wouldn’t tell you that even if I did know.” Her eyes dart toward a chest of drawers—the only piece of furniture in the room apart from the chair and a low pallet bed—and then back to me. “Look where we are, Valor. Do you really think I know where the princess is just because she once paid me to do something for her? I don’t know anything.”

  I can’t tell whether she’s lying or not, but I switch tack anyway. “Okay. But you know what she’s planning. What is it? What else has she paid you to do? Who else has she paid?”

  Natalia’s mouth twists into a smile. “The princess does like her revenge.” A sly look crosses her face. “But that’s not all she wants. Let me go and I’ll tell you that much.”

  I shake my head. “You’re not in a position to bargain. Tell me and I might not release this bolt.”

  She looks at the tip of my crossbow. I can see that she’s angry and scared and squirming like a worm on a hook. I don’t try to hide my satisfaction.

  Natalia swallows again. She’s trapped, and she knows it.

  “Why did she have Prince Anatol banished?” I ask. “What’s she up to?”

  “Do you think I’m privy to all her plans?” Natalia blurts out. “I have no idea where she is or what she’s going to do next. Look at me, hiding in this hole.”

  “You know something,” I say. “What do you think she wants?”

  Natalia shrugs—a quick, irritated motion. “She wants what she’s always wanted—the throne. Did you think she was going to stop just because her mother said she can never have it now? She only wants it more. And when Anastasia wants something …”

  I’m fully aware of the lengths the princess will go to. My whole family is painfully aware. I think about my sister, huddled on the floor of a solitary cell among the Black Hands at Tyur’m
a. About my mother crying in the night after they’d taken Sasha.

  Footsteps echo in the hallway. I’m distracted for only an instant, but Natalia dashes forward with a cry. I turn to keep my crossbow trained on her, but it’s Feliks I see. He’s right outside the door. She barrels straight into him, knocking him back into Katia. I lurch forward, dropping my bow and reaching out to grab Natalia. My fingers close around her satchel strap and the buckle gives, but Natalia is gone, leaving Feliks and Katia on the floor and me clutching nothing but the satchel itself.

  “How did you find me?” I ask.

  “You made quite a show on the docks,” says Feliks sourly. “After that we just followed you.” Katia pushes Feliks off her legs, and they both scramble up to go after Natalia.

  “Wait!” I say. “We need to search this place.”

  “You do it. I’ll go after her.” Katia darts away. Feliks looks between the two of us and then bolts after Katia.

  I hesitate. Most of me wants to go with them, but if I leave now, I might not have the chance to get in here again. Natalia could come back here before I find out what she was looking at.

  I go straight to the chest of drawers.

  The wood is warped, and I have to jiggle the top drawer out of its frame. It’s empty. I try the next drawer, and the last—all empty. I upend the pallet bed.

  I hear steps outside and dart behind the door.

  “It’s us,” calls Feliks. “We lost her.” He steps into the room. “Next time you go dashing off like that, you might consider taking me with you.” He’s still out of breath. “I bet you barely know where you are.”

  “Sorry,” I say. “The opportunity was there. I had to take it.”

  “What did she tell you?” asks Katia. Her cheeks are still pink from running.

  “Everything she knows, I think,” I say. “But she kept looking over there.” I gesture, but there’s barely anything to gesture at.