Seeker of the Crown

by Ruth Lauren

  “And I’m not leaving you here,” I say. “What kind of rescue would that be?”

  He raises an eyebrow.

  I frown. “Well, it would be an even worse one than it is already.”

  That makes him smile a little, though he winces and touches his lip.

  “Valor, I’m more than happy to see you. I can’t think of anyone else who’d even try to do this for me. Did you say Nicolai was here? Did he help you get in?”

  I shake my head, the worry that must be on my face making Anatol frown.

  “I think he’s in the house somewhere. At least, I hope he is. The only way he’ll stay safe is if everyone here still believes he’s just an apprentice in Queen Ana’s Guard. He can’t help us.”

  Anatol presses his lips together and peers into every dark corner, though it’s plain to see there’s nothing here. I don’t join him. I’m still sorting through a dozen variations on a plan to get out of here.

  But the truth is none of them will work.

  There is no way out.

  CHAPTER 11

  Prince Anatol shivers. We sit side by side on the boarded floor of the attic, and his movement reminds me that I’m cold myself. The light from the hatch is starting to fade. It’s only a matter of time before someone goes to check and finds Anatol gone.

  Something hits my shoulder, and I flinch and clap a hand over my mouth. Anatol jerks away from it. I listen for sounds from below even as I look for what hit me.

  A knotted rope dangles in the gloom, and above it, Feliks’s face peers down from the hatch. He waves his hand wildly, and I find myself waving back, energy and hope pouring back into me.

  “Well, go on then,” I whisper to Anatol.

  He grabs the rope and gives it a tug. It holds, so he starts climbing. I keep it taut from the bottom and watch as he disappears over the edge of the hatch and onto the roof, and then I follow. My arms are still weak from my earlier climb, but I don’t care. I just want to get out of here. In no time, I emerge into the crisp air, and Feliks pulls me onto the roof, the snow there still crisscrossed with my tracks.

  I flip the hatch shut and look up to find Sasha, Katia, and Feliks all standing there while Anatol sits in the snow, staring at each of them in turn. Without a word, Katia starts piling snow on top of the hatch and packing it down hard. It’s a good idea, so I join in.

  “Thank you. All of you,” I say. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t come.”

  Feliks shrugs. “It’s what we do. No one gets left behind.”

  “I can’t thank you enough,” says Anatol. “I’ve been frantic. My guards all changed today, and I heard them talking about what happened to my mother. When they first came downstairs, I thought I was to be released.” He touches his lip. “But that’s not what they did at all.”

  Feliks shakes his head. “Prince Anatol, do you think you can climb down? It took a while to get up here, and it’ll take even longer to get down with two extra people.” He looks to me.

  I feel like I’ve just stepped off the roof and am waiting to hit the ground. I could almost laugh. But with so much resting on my thinking clearly, I can’t afford to lose focus, even for a second.

  “Have you seen Nicolai?” I ask.

  Sasha packs an armful of snow onto the pile over the hatch. “He was turned away while we waited for you,” she says. “He and two other members of Queen Ana’s Guard. They were the last of the gold sashes to leave, and Nicolai didn’t look happy about it. He had no choice but to walk away, though.” She stands up, surveying the packed snow.

  “He did the right thing. The last thing we need is any suspicion falling on him. Let’s go,” I say.

  Feliks leads the way back over the edge of the roof and down the way I came. He makes it look easy, though I know it’s anything but. No alarm has been raised, no guards have run to or from the house. That’s good for us—better luck than we’ve had since Queen Ana charged me with finding her daughter—but it means no one’s gone to check on Anatol yet. And someone has to check on him eventually.

  I watch as Katia follows Feliks, pressing her lips together so hard that they lose all color. When I ask Anatol if he’s okay, he just nods and takes his turn.

  “Go on,” I say to Sasha.

  She shakes her head. “Not this time, Valor. You go now. I’ll follow you.”

  We’re both thinking about the desperate, exhausted run we made under the city by the docks when we escaped Tyur’ma. Sasha refused to leave me and make her own escape. I insisted she go first then. Now I don’t argue; I just look down to the ground in time to see Anatol joining the others back on the snowdrift behind the fallen log. Everything’s hushed and muted, and no sound comes from the guards. A wolf howls out beyond the city limits, faint and far away.

  I drop over the side and descend, far faster than I climbed up. When I reach the bottom, I make for the fence, stepping high through the snow, and heave myself up. My stomach growls and my mouth is dry. I land hard on the other side and steady myself, crouching against the cold iron railings.

  Sasha is halfway down the wall when her foot slips and she falls, silently. It’s me who makes a high-pitched sound, which I cut off as I leap to my feet. Sasha hits the ground on her back, crumpling into the snow, landing so hard that she almost disappears in the indentation.

  I grasp the bars, ready to scale the fence again, calling her name as loud as I dare. She doesn’t move. A picture of Sasha lying in the snow in Tyur’ma after Feliks pulled her out of the ice dome forces itself into my head, bringing with it the same terror I felt then. I fumble the climb, unwilling to take my eyes off her, unable to think about what I’m doing in my worry.

  A guard appears from the back of the house, and everything goes into slow motion. I whirl around and yell, “Run!” at the other three hiding behind the log, then spin back and scream, “Sasha!”

  She moves, struggles up, but my relief barely has time to register before the guard shouts and starts running toward her.

  “Get up!” I scream. “Run! Run!”

  I cling to the fence now, unable to do anything as Sasha starts to run, painfully slowly.

  “Come on, come on,” I plead, willing her toward me. The guard is gaining, and another has appeared behind the first.

  Sasha’s breaths fog the air fast, but her steps are slowing, her face twisted in pain.

  Three voices start shouting with mine from behind, calling her name, telling her she can do it. Sasha’s head lifts up, and she staggers the last three steps to the fence, and then I’m pulling her as hard as I can, dragging her over.

  She cries out as we both land on the other side, but there’s no time to stop. I look left to the woods and then right to the street, but Feliks is yelling to follow him, so I sling Sasha’s arm around my neck and we take off to the right.

  Over my shoulder, I see the front door of the house open and guards run in and out. If they didn’t know Anatol was gone before, they do now. I face forward and keep going. Sasha leans most of her weight on me, which throws off my balance, but I keep going and going and going, until at last Feliks stops.

  It’s only then that I notice we’re in the alley where Feliks and Katia met us that first day we came back from Magadanskya.

  No one speaks for a full minute. I crouch in the snow, my back to a wall, the sky darkening above us.

  “Are you okay?” I ask Sasha.

  She hasn’t got the breath to answer yet, so she just squeezes my arm.

  Anatol holds his sides, breathing hard. “Tell me, then. Tell me everything.”

  I tell him about Inessa—how we told her Anatol could help find Queen Ana. His face darkens, and he looks more like the Prince Anatol I met in Tyur’ma—the one who scared me with his determination.

  Everyone’s eyes are on Anatol.

  “What is it?” I ask. I’m fervently glad at this moment that he’s on my side.

  “Inessa’s always liked to get her own way without actually having to do any wo
rk herself. But I’m surprised she had the nerve to lie to you,” Anatol says. “She’s always been peevish about being fourth in line, but she never dared speak about it in front of Anastasia. She always just fawned and giggled and twisted her hands in that nervous way.

  “But I know she never had any intention of releasing me today. Her guards have loose tongues. I couldn’t make full sense of what they were saying before, but now I can. She intends to do precisely nothing to get Queen Ana back.”

  Katia and Feliks look to me, and my cheeks heat. Inessa lied. And she made me believe her.

  Sasha’s hands clench. “But she’s making public proclamations that she’s doing everything in her power.” She’s still out of breath, and her voice is laced with pain. I stand by her side and let her lean on me.

  Prince Anatol shakes his head, his face grim. “I have no idea what’s going on, but she doesn’t want my mother found.”

  Inessa’s not going to help us. She’s going to try to stop us. But I made a promise to Queen Ana. I look up at Anatol. “Your mother was at the Great Library when she was taken. We know there are secret passages that are known only to the royal family. Do you know where they are? Do you know how Anastasia or … whoever she put up to this could have made Queen Ana vanish like that?”

  Anatol frowns. “I don’t—no, wait.” His frown deepens and he stares at the snow, focused on memories the rest of us can’t see. Finally, Feliks fidgets, and Anatol shakes his head. “I think I might. But it was years ago when I saw it. And Mother wasn’t showing me, she was showing Anastasia. I wish I’d paid more attention, but so many of the things I learned were really intended for the future queen. I was just there out of convenience. And in the library, I always gave the books more attention than anything else. What does my father say?”

  We all look to Sasha. She bites her lip. “Your father didn’t know. My father says he’s been very upset since the queen …”

  Anatol’s face softens into worry. “He handled Anastasia’s betrayal differently from Mother. He’s barely spoken about it at all.” His voice drops low. “Or about anything else.”

  I glance up at the sky. The sun has dipped, barely visible above the buildings. I touch Anatol’s arm. “We have to take you to the library.”

  Katia nods her agreement. “If you see it, you’ll remember.”

  “But none of us can afford to be seen in public now,” says Anatol.

  Feliks nods to my sister. “Sasha knows a way in.”

  “Okay, then let’s go,” says Anatol. He takes a step forward, and his knee almost buckles.

  Katia puts her arm around him, practically holding him up. “You’re in no state to go anywhere right now. None of us are.”

  “We’ll hide him here,” says Feliks.

  “Valor, we must get home,” says Sasha. “Mother and Father will be frantic. If they’ve told anyone we’re missing, and if anyone suspects Anatol’s escape had anything to do with us, we could end up back in Tyur’ma. Our parents could face worse than banishment this time.”

  She’s right. We can’t risk the library now. We must get back. “We’ll do it tomorrow,” I say to Anatol. “First thing. I promise.”

  Sasha and I don’t talk on the way home; only dogged determination keeps us going, heads down, boots moving mechanically, until we get there. She’s limping, and I have to keep stopping to put her arm around my shoulder and help her along.

  When we reach the back door of the house and slip inside, we pause and look at each other. We hear voices from the front of the house, the exchange of greetings and pleasantries.

  One of the visitors says something, and then Father’s clear voice carries back to us. “I believe they’re in their rooms. As you know, it’s not been long since we returned from a rather lengthy journey to Magadanskya …”

  Sasha and I don’t stop to hear the rest. Quickly, we ditch our furs, shoving them into the cupboard. I wrench off my boots and throw them in too, then smooth my braids.

  “Your boots!” I hiss at my sister as the voices head toward us.

  Sasha bites her lip and shakes her head. There’s no time to run to our rooms, so we hurry to the kitchen instead, Sasha dropping into a seat at the table while I yank glasses from a cupboard and pretend I’m in the middle of making us drinks.

  “Valor?” My mother’s voice sounds slightly on edge.

  “In here,” I call, trying to calm my own voice.

  “We have the honor of a visit from Queen Inessa,” says Mother.

  I lose my grip on the glass in my hand and only just catch it. Water splashes onto my fingers. Sasha’s chair scrapes over the stone floor.

  “Please, no need to rise,” says Inessa, holding out one slim hand.

  “Your Highness,” I say, dipping into a bow.

  “Valor.” She inclines her head.

  “Please take a seat,” says Father, stepping to the table to pull out a chair.

  “Don’t trouble yourselves. I have only come, as I said, to make sure that the girls are quite safe.” She smiles in the nervous way she did back at the palace, twisting her hands together and then holding them at her sides as though she’s been caught by a deportment teacher who’s rapped her on the knuckles for behavior unbecoming of a princess. “I came as soon as I heard Prince Anatol had escaped his banishment. I blame myself, of course. I should have left the palace immediately after Valor and Sasha told me he might have information about where Queen Ana has been taken. Now I’m afraid it seems evident that the accusation of him being in league with Anastasia was correct, and my aunt was quite right to banish him.”

  Father’s eyebrows go up when he hears that Sasha and I went to see Inessa, but before he can say anything, Inessa turns to him, her eyes huge and sorrowful. “Both of my cousins at fault, and my aunt missing. I can’t imagine what Uncle Fillip is going through. But I’m so glad to find that Valor and Sasha are here, as you said, and safe.”

  “Thank you for your concern, Your Highness,” Father says. “We’re so honored that you would travel here yourself when one of your attendants could have done the job for you.”

  The queen regent smiles. “I couldn’t possibly have handed this task to anyone else. I will try to measure up to my aunt’s example, if only in this small way, and serve Demidova on the front line.”

  Sasha, who has been as still as a hunter, shifts her weight, pressing her lips together.

  “You’re quite sure you’ve been here all day and haven’t seen anything unusual?” Inessa says, looking at my sister. “I would be more than happy to send some of my personal Guard if you feel in danger in any way. Who knows what the prince may have on his mind—whether he knows you came to see me earlier.”

  I can feel the barbs in her words, like little fishing hooks.

  “I’ve neither seen nor heard anything of import,” says my sister evenly. “We’ve been upstairs reading for the larger part of the day.”

  Inessa’s gaze drops to my feet and stays there. I glance down. The hems of my trousers are wet.

  The queen regent turns to Mother and smiles. “Thank you so much for welcoming me into your home.”

  I don’t hear the rest as she turns and my parents accompany her to the door with all the attendant polite words. At the front of the house, Inessa’s guards wait to escort her to her carriage.

  I stand stock-still. Sasha’s face is tight. We look at each other, but neither of us speaks. We’re waiting for Mother and Father to come back. When they do, I notice that Father’s still wearing his blue cloak—he must have returned from the palace very recently. Mother, however, is wearing clean trousers. I can’t smell horse or dog, which means she hasn’t been out on the plains today. She might have been in the house at some point—might know that Sasha and I have been gone since early this morning.

  Father strides to the table and starts gathering up the papers I hadn’t even noticed were there.

  “Are you … returning to the palace?” asks Sasha. I can tell by her cautious tone t
hat she had expected a second questioning at least.

  Father frowns. “Your mother and I both are. Prince Anatol is missing. Queen Ana is missing. The king is all but—” He shakes his head, cutting himself off. “The queen regent has requested our presence. The country is in crisis.” He mutters the last part to himself, thrusting the gathered bundle into his leather bag and hurrying away. I’m glad he’s too distracted to question why we went to see Inessa without speaking to him first.

  Mother is fastening her thick riding cloak.

  My relief mixes with guilt. We lied to our parents, and to the monarch of the realm. I don’t dare ask Sasha if that’s treason, or something even worse. We watch silently as Mother pulls on her leather gloves, drops a hurried kiss onto each of our heads, and follows Father.

  In the doorway, she stops. “There is to be a guard posted here tonight,” she says. “So don’t think for a moment that you’ll be going anywhere else today—or that we won’t be discussing where you’ve been since this morning when I return. I’ve been out looking for you for the past two hours. Whatever you’re doing, stop it now, before you get in any more trouble than you already are. I wish I could stay with you, but the guard will be here. Just a precaution.” Then she smiles a tight smile that reassures no one of anything and is gone.

  “A precaution against what?” I turn to Sasha, but her shoulders have slumped, and she holds her head in her clasped hands.

  “Sasha?”

  “It’s my ankle.” Her voice is full of every second of strife we’ve been through today.

  I run around to her side of the table and lift her boot into my lap. She keeps her hands pressed over her face as I unlace it, but when I try to ease it off, she grips the sides of the seat.

  “I’m sorry,” I say as I tug gently. She nods, her face tight. She knows I feel it as much as she does. When I finally get the boot free, she lets out a whimper.

  Her ankle swells right in front of my eyes, a huge bruise blooming like a purple rose from the bone outward.

  “Oh, Sasha. Why didn’t you say something?” But I know she couldn’t have. There was no time. All the way back home, and throughout the entire conversation with Inessa, she had to bear the pain.