by Claire Merle
Jakut bends over as though he has a pain in the stomach. “What of my father?”
“There are reports of his capture.” The officer does not meet Jakut's eyes. Duke Roarhil sucks in his breath and nods for the man to continue. “There are other reports that he was slain and died with his men.”
The Prince pales, hands pressing into the round table.
“It is bad news for all of us,” the Duke says, reaching across the table and resting a palm on his nephew's shoulder. “But that is not all. Other news has reached us.”
Jakut's eyes twitch. Tidings considered important enough to impart after announcing the King's capture and possible death could only mean more trouble. Tendrils of fear twine together in my chest. Could the Duke's men have discovered something we do not know about the Prince's trip to the north?
“Queen Usas is pregnant,” the Duke says. “Her due date is close at hand. With the King's capture, an attempt on your life and now this... it raises grave suspicions against her.”
For a long moment the Prince does not speak. I imagine he is relieved evidence points to the Queen's treachery, rather than his own.
“When did your messenger leave to inform the Ruby Court I was safe in Lyndonia?” he asks.
“Just before the reconnaissance arrived.”
“Then we must catch him up. We must prepare to leave for the Red City at once and intercept the messenger. If the Queen intends to name her child successor and herself regent until the baby is of age, she will do it while the confusion over the army's defeat is at its greatest and my survival unknown. We must take her by surprise. We will arrive when she least expects it and discover the truth behind my father’s death.”
“You have my utmost support and the support of my men.”
“Thank you, Uncle.”
Twenty-Eight
Jakut grips my arm as we head back to the guest tower, though it is not the confident controlled hold of a master, nor the tender caress of an admirer. I am a buffer against the elements.
My own dilemma dampens my sympathy for his desperation. In two hours, I will be forced to leave the fort and abandon Kel when I have only just found him. I thought I would see him again, that I would be the one to break the news that it will be Tug, and not me, taking him home. I thought I would have time to check he is eating again, and have the comfort of witnessing his departure with Beast-face.
Even with Tug and the Duchess’s threats, I hadn't given up on the possibility of finding an exit strategy—their secret could destroy any family, but its effect on the royal family, if ever known, would ripple through the whole Kingdom. There could have been a way to sway things back in my favour. But like Jakut, I have run out of time.
The Prince thrusts open the door to Tug and Brin's chamber. “There's been a change of plan,” he announces. Brin, half-dressed in underwear with long legs, four colored crystals hanging from his neck, is covered in shaving foam. His skin looks gray beneath the tattooed webbing—lack of sleep, excessive drinking and worry taking its toll.
“Where's Tug?”
Brin glances at me with bloodshot eyes. He opens his mouth, but at the same moment boot steps thud in the corridor. Tug appears behind us, expression neutral.
“We leave for the Red City immediately,” the Prince says. I squeeze my crossed arms into my chest, attempting to hold in the thunder-crack of tension. Say "no". Convince the Prince you cannot come.
“If Mirra has passed her test,” Tug answers, “we are free to go.”
“Two hundred gold coins to escort Mirra and me to the Ruby Court. Then you will be free to do as you please.”
“The deal,” Brin grunts, “was a hundred when we arrived here and a hundred when Mirra passed her test. We've still got nothing.”
“Circumstances have changed. The Carucan army was attacked during the long-sleep. Rumours claim the Eteans hold the King prisoner.”
Jakut is not admitting his father could be dead. To himself, or just to Tug? For someone who has no memories, this news affects him deeply. I study the contours of his desolate mind and notice they have subtly shifted. Does he remember something?
After my mother's cleansing, the obliterated years did not begin to come back until she woke from the following long-sleep. Like tokens buried in silt and ashes, winter eroded the sedimentary deposits to reveal fragments and shapes of the past. But Jakut wants his memories a great deal more than Ma did. Perhaps being here has jolted his memory, and I've been too preoccupied to notice.
“Half the Duke's army will be with you,” Tug reasons. “What good are we?”
“My uncle and his men believe Mirra is a lady journeying beside me of her own free will. If she takes her horse for a stroll, they will not question it.” His gaze zeroes in on my face. “I will need her more than ever now.”
“Where else would I go,” I say. “You have promised me my freedom and purse, why would I run away?”
“Because there is nothing to keep you.” A simple answer, yet it carries an indiscernible undercurrent. “But something keeps you bound to Tug.”
Brin swipes the foam from his chin with a cloth, apparently giving up on his shave. His refusal to look at either Beast-face or me, silently confirms Jakut's claim.
“There is nothing between us,” I snap, the edge in my voice not helping.
“You have broken your word once,” Brin says to the Prince. “What is to say after we deliver Mirra to the Ruby Court you will not change your mind again and refuse to pay us?”
“Money is no object. Why would I take such a risk? Less than two weeks travel to the Red City and the gold is yours.”
“We cannot accept,” Brin says.
“But we will,” Tug finishes.
Mentally, I crash straight into a wall. I stare at Beast-face. He cannot already have forgotten his promise to deliver Kel to my parents while I become the Duchess’s informant. How will he return Kel to our parents if he is with me?
I marvel at the strangeness of my own nature. Why am I constantly surprised by the myriad ways in which Beast-face manages to hurt me?
Everyone in the room is conscious of the way my eyes drive imaginary spikes into Tug, but I don't care. Jakut speaks of meeting at the fort entrance in two hours, food being packed and horses readied, our need to travel fast. His voice echoes in my thoughts, overshadowed by an image of Kel crouching naked in the tower room, watching the secret tower door as I leave, taking all my promises with me. I picture my brother following me in the mind-world as I ride forth with the Prince and the Duke, ride so far away, he cannot follow.
When the Prince leaves us, Tug is the first to speak.
“In your chambers, Mirra,” he orders.
Brin slumps into a chair and puts his head in his hands. My chest feels like it is filling with water. I'm drowning in promises I cannot keep. I clutch at my dress wanting to tear it from me. It has all been for nothing!
Kel will remain here bullied and brutalised until he realizes I'm not coming back. He will wait and wait, peeking up through the tower’s slit window, training his mind on the drawbridge, jumping awake every time hooves clop across the wooden pier. Days will dissolve into weeks and as he realizes I'm not coming back, he will sink into himself and disappear.
“Sit down,” Tug says.
We are in my room, but it is shadow and mist as though the mind-world has materialized and the real world vanished. I hunch into a wooden chair, shivering. Tug holds a blanket. He leans forward and wraps it around my shoulders.
“He will not understand,” I say. “He will know I have gone. He will not understand.”
Pine smoke drifts on the air. A crackle of burning wood and dead needles comes from the bathing chamber. I curl into my blankets deciding I will not go anywhere. Jakut won't kill me. I will be imprisoned until I'm sent to the tundra mines or hanged, and then at least Kel and I will be stuck here together.
Arms pick me up as though I am no more than a child. I think of Asmine's father carrying her from
the tent of her abductors. Wading through smoke and blood, bodies scattered over the forest floor like autumn's broken leaves, mouths set open in death's silence. The images are blurred. A mix of my father's memories, and the way I have imagined my friend's living nightmare.
I am aware of the faintest things. Hands pulling at my dress. Steam. A fire. Hot water. Hot water on my face, permeating my body, stirring me back to the present. I bolt up. I am in my slip in the tub and Tug is pouring hot water over my head.
“Better?” he says.
“Get out!” I pick up a bar of soap and fling it at him. It smacks him hard on the forehead.
“Ow!”
“Get out!” I sweep up an arm, using the momentum to cover him with water.
He steps back scowling, tunic and face soaking wet. “I'll take that as a yes,” he says.
“You will take nothing from me.” Grabbing the cotton sheet that rests on the raised sink, I leap from the tub and wrap it beneath my arms searching for something with which to strike him.
“I have spoken to the Duchess,” he says, raising his hands in peace. “Kel will be safer here in Lyndonia than travelling the country. At least until his eyes have changed and he has regained his strength. She will move him to an empty cottage outside the fort and ask Deadran to care for him. The Prince's old tutor will be told Kel is an orphan in temporary need of a guardian.”
His words land and slide across me like the droplets of water on my skin. I give up searching for a weapon, and stand hugging the sheet.
“I will come with you to the Red City,” he continues. “You will do everything you can to discover the Queen's intentions towards the Duke and his children. When the Prince dismisses me, I will return to Lyndonia with your news. Then I will take your brother back to Blackfoot Forest.”
“Why? Why would you take him back?”
An expression skims Tug's face, as mysterious as the fortress of his mind, as his talent for hiding himself from the sighted, as his ability to bury his memories and become an enigma. He does not answer. I look down at my crinkled hands which clutch the sheet as I drip all over the wooden floor. “How long was I in the bath?”
“Longer than there is time for if you wish to see Kel before we leave. A maid knocked five minutes ago. I told her to wait outside. Shall I tell her you are ready to dress?”
I nod. He turns to leave.
“Wait,” I say. “What if once we arrive at the palace Queen Usas insists on the Duke's son being sent to join his father?”
“The King has been captured. It would be an odd request considering the Prince's attempted assassination and the Etean's knowledge of the Carucan army's long-sleep stations. But if a request is sent, Elise will delay her son's departure until Jakut is crowned and you have discovered the truth behind these events.”
Twenty-Nine
Mist hangs over the new green shrubs carpeting the forest floor. My lungs fill with crisp air, as we gallop down a narrowing track, away from the high walls, cramped courtyards and lifeless maze of the fort. The rising sun glances through the trees and sparkles in my vision.
Kel could get well again living in the forest. A familiar place. Away from the countless minds of men and women with greed and fear and self-serving desire in their hearts. Now all I must do is convince him he will be safe here. Without me.
We slow our horses to navigate the undergrowth and fallen branches. The stone house lies to the east of the castle, not far from the lake, but in a thick part of woodland with few man-made paths. I spot it between the long trunks and anticipation and anxiety cut through me.
Two guards straighten at our approach. The Duchess appears from the low, simple structure. She signals to let us pass.
“You have not got long,” Tug says.
“I know.”
I dismount and pass him the reins. Strength seeps from my legs as I stride across the small clearing. The Duchess tears her eyes from Tug to step aside and allow me entrance. Once I am level with her, I pause.
“I will hold you entirely responsible for my brother's well-being until Tug returns.”
Her gaze drops to the leafed medallion in her gloved fingers. “I was four or five,” she says, “when Tye and his father found me.” Turmoil roils beneath her poised expression. It strikes me she has hidden her past from all who surround her almost as expertly as Tug. “I don't remember my life before that. Only the fear. Afraid every breath I took would be my last. Afraid of living, terrified of dying.”
For a moment, I imagine the Duchess a captive like my childhood friend, Asmine. An image surfaces on my inner eye. The girl in the Pit, dressed in frills, clasping a shiny purse, immobilized with terror. I doubt she will be as fortunate as Elise.
The Duchess flinches. She may not willingly use her sight, but she cannot avoid the memories of others.
“You could use your influence with your husband to change things,” I say. “Instead, you hide.”
She bows her head, and I push through the stone doorway, not allowing her to see the crack in my unforgiving attitude. In her position, my mother might have done the same.
The room is in a shambles. Dust covers the wooden table. A small fire burns in the hearth. Cobwebs, thicker than cloth, crisscross sloping shelves. A draught blows through the open door and whistles between tiny gaps in the walls. The one-room building hasn't been used for years.
Kel sits on a raised platform covered in brightly colored quilts, which Elise must have sneaked from the fort. He is upright but his eyes are shut, head leaning against worn stone.
I perch on the edge of the bed and touch my hand to his face. His body tenses, but when he sees me his shoulders slump, and he gives a wan smile. His face looks tired and so serious, but life flutters in his glimmering irises. I take off my gloves and squeeze his hands.
“Hi, Bud.”
“You said you weren't coming for me till moonrise,” he murmurs. “I didn't know if she was your friend, or if it was a trick.”
“We had to change the plan.”
He twists his arms around me and snuggles his face into my furs.
“You're OK,” I say into his hair. “You're safe.” I wrap him close and hum one of Ma's lullabies.
He used to sit on Ma's lap while she rocked him and sang him to sleep. Nothing grated on my nerves more. Now all I want is to make him feel that safe. I wish we could pretend we've found a magic door to an enchanted wood where neither monsters nor men can come for him. He sniffles and rubs his eyes. The crying is a good sign. He is letting go of all he's kept locked inside him. Of the weight that was pulling him under.
“The lady says I'm not strong enough to leave yet,” he whispers. “But I'm strong enough, Mirra. I promise. I ate two whole breakfasts.”
I smile while scrambling for a way to stop the little bud of hope in his heart being crushed, before it has barely formed.
“You look stronger,” I say. “Ma and Pa will be so proud of you. I'm proud of you.”
His bottom lip trembles. “I want to go home.”
“We both do. I want to go home too.”
“But I think the lady is right.”
My eyes narrow. What has the Duchess told him? My mind strays for a moment, wondering how she got him out of the fort, how many helped her and how trustworthy they are.
“Right about what?”
“She says if we leave now, people will see my eyes and try to capture me again. She says I can stay here until they don't glitter. Her guards will protect us.”
I look towards the open doorway. The Duchess waits outside, hugging her silver fur cape around narrow shoulders.
“What's wrong?” Kel asks. “She is your friend, isn't she?”
“She's asked me to do something for her.”
“That's why she's helping us?”
I nod. I want Kel to believe he is safe and free, so he will regain his strength. But one day it will be Tug that comes to take him home, not me. And I cannot let him wholeheartedly trust the Duchess. Enough
to believe she will take care of him until he returns to our parents, yes, but not enough to let her deceive him if I fail to discover the Prince's assassin.
“She has a little boy who's in danger. She wants me to go to a city far from here and discover who wishes him harm.”
“Will it be dangerous?”
“It will not be easy. But coming after you in Blackfoot Forest when I had been injured was not easy. Finding you in the fort and getting you out of the tower was not easy.”
A flicker of determination ignites in his sombre gaze. “If anyone can do it, you can.”
“Yes,” I say, squeezing his fingers.
“But will she force you to go? Did she buy you?”
“Nobody can own us. We are free and there is always a choice.” He lets go of my hand and cups the lodestone necklace I gave him before he was sold in the Pit.
“I know you're coming back for me. I know now. I promise I won't doubt you again.”
Pressure crushes my head. I pretend to arrange his covers, unable to meet his dazzling gaze in case he sees my own doubts. “You're my north,” I say, pushing the words through the slim hole of my swollen windpipe.
“How long can you stay?” he asks.
“If I accept, I must leave straight away.”
His chest shudders as he releases an anguished sigh. He rests his head back against the stone. When he opens his eyes, tears spill down his cheeks. “I'll be OK,” he says.
I cup his face in my hands and kiss the salty trails. “I don't want to leave you.”
“When you come back, I'll look different, and we can go home.”
I throw my arms around him and squeeze until I'm breathless. I tell him how brave and strong he is and how much I love him, and then through his hiccups and sobs he tells me to go.