Something thudded into Dara’s shoulder, and she stumbled. The small ivory hilt of a knife stuck out of the back of her shoulder. She chanced a look back. Lord Vex hadn’t been distracted for long. He had slowed to throw the knife, but now he ran toward her at full speed. Dara yanked the knife from her shoulder. It would have to do for a weapon. She planted her feet in her dueling stance. Vex was almost upon her, sword in hand. Maybe she could hold him off while Vine and Rid escaped.
Suddenly a huge shape shot in between Vex and Dara, sending up a cloud of dust. A black carriage drawn by two wild-looking horses pulled between them and skidded to a halt. Before Dara could move, the carriage doors opened, and Vine’s face appeared.
“Quickly, Dara!” she said.
Dara didn’t stop to wonder where the carriage came from. She dove inside, and the door shut behind her, plunging her into darkness.
The carriage took off with a lurch, jostling and bouncing her on the floor. She rolled into a pair of boots with sharp steel toes then rolled the other way and found herself looking up at Rid’s knobby knees. The butt of his staff rested on the wooden floor by her head.
“Oh, we’ve left such a mess.” Vine sounded delighted. The carriage bounced around too much for Dara to get up, but she could see her friend peering out the window, calmly watching the commotion in the fork as they sped away.
“Where’s Rumy?” Dara said.
“He’s riding on the roof,” said an unfamiliar voice. “He refused to join us until you were safely inside. Not that I’d have left you behind after that brilliant display.”
Dara finally managed to sit up and look at the owner of the voice—and the wearer of the steel-toed boots. It was a stately woman wearing a full skirt that just covered her knees. She had an olive-skinned, animated face, and her hair was white as snow.
“Who are you?” Dara asked.
“I’d very much like to ask you the same question,” the woman said. “I haven’t seen a Firework like that in decades. Where did you learn to do that?”
“I’ve never done that before,” Dara said. “It just seemed like a good idea.”
“Magnificent.”
“This kind woman offered us refuge in her carriage,” Vine said. “I daresay she saved our lives.”
“My pleasure,” the woman said. She was still staring at Dara as though she were some kind of exotic creature. A very valuable one.
“You’re bleeding, Dara,” Rid said. “Oh, you’re bleeding real badly.”
“I don’t think it’s too deep,” Dara said. She scrambled onto the carriage seat beside the strange woman and across from Vine. Rid’s face had gone a little pale, and Dara glanced down at her arm. Okay, maybe the knife wound was deep after all. Now that she was looking at it, the pain hit her hard. It was like being stabbed all over again. A patch of blood spread down her sleeve.
“Let me,” the strange woman said. She reached for Dara’s arm. The deep-olive skin on her hands was wrinkled, but her grip was firm as she peeled off Dara’s coat to get a better look at where Vex’s knife had struck her. Blood seeped steadily from the wound, darkening her blouse.
Suddenly the woman’s fingers went as cold as ice, and water oozed from her fingertips into the stab wound. Or at least, the substance was like water. More blood welled up for a moment as silvery liquid rushed through the cut. A second later it stopped bleeding altogether. The neat incision pulled together, and the silver substance filmed over it like a wax seal. It still hurt, but much less than it had before.
Vine leaned forward with a sharp intake of breath and examined the wound.
“Oh, that was beautifully done,” she said.
“You’re a Waterworker?” Dara asked, looking up into the woman’s luminous brown eyes.
“I prefer the term ‘Watermight Artist,’” the woman said. “But yes. My name is Wyla.”
“Why did you help us?” Dara asked.
“It’s not often I get to meet a Firewielder,” she said. “I thought you might like to chat for a little while.”
“You took an awfully big risk for a chat,” Dara said. “Lord Vex has a dozen armed men with him.”
“I have a rather competent bodyguard myself,” Wyla said. “But that’s why we’re moving in such a hurry. I can, of course, drop you off somewhere when we are a safe distance away.”
“We are traveling to Pendark,” Vine said. “I don’t suppose you could take us part of the way there?”
“Yes,” the woman said with a smile. “In fact, I can get you all the way there. Pendark is my home.”
“If it isn’t too much trouble,” Dara said slowly.
“Not at all.” Wyla leaned out of the window on her side of the carriage and rapped on it. “Change of plans, Siln. Take us straight home.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Pendark?” Dara asked Vine in a low voice.
“If he’s with a group of pen fighters, it seems the best option,” she said. “I Sensed hints of him in the fork, but I couldn’t determine which way he went from here. The Air is too muddled in these parts.”
Dara frowned. “Lord Vex will guess he’s going to Pendark too.” She imagined Vex and his dozen fighting men thundering down the road, getting closer and closer to an unsuspecting Siv.
“We’ll just have to get there first,” Vine said. She ran her fingers through her dark hair and settled in as if she owned the elegant carriage. She hardly looked like a woman who’d been wielding a sword a moment earlier—or one who’d spent the past three days as a captive.
Rid looked considerably less at ease in their new surroundings. He stared at the sleek canvas walls and the discreet lantern as if they were made of gold.
“Where did you come from?” Dara asked him. “I thought you sold us to Lord Vex.”
“Sold you?” Rid looked genuinely hurt. “Of course not. That soldier let me through the barrier back in Tollan. Sunders. Decent fellow. Rumy and me have been behind you the whole journey. Kurn Pass was darn spooky, but we made it through all right.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Dara said.
“It’s all right.” Rid glanced around the carriage and grinned. “This is a lot better than walking to Pendark, don’t you think?”
“I guess it is,” Dara said. She studied the mysterious Waterworker’s profile. Wyla’s hands were folded on her knees, and she looked harmless enough. Dara couldn’t guess how old she was. Energy seemed to emanate from her, but her white hair and the thin pattern of wrinkles around her lips and eyes suggested she was older than she seemed.
“How far is it to Pendark?” Dara asked.
“A mere three days by carriage. Where are you staying in the great city?”
“We’ll take rooms in an inn,” Dara said. She wondered if they even had any coins left after their time in captivity. Vine had always carried their purse—indeed, they had mostly been using Vine’s money throughout their travels—but Mertin seemed like the type to relieve her of it in short order, whether Lord Vex approved or not. Dara couldn’t quite believe they had escaped. That had been very close.
“You must stay with me, then,” Wyla said.
“We don’t want to impose,” Vine said.
“Nonsense. I have plenty of room in my manor,” Wyla said. “I insist.” She looked over at Dara and smiled. There was something predatory in her eyes. Dara had a feeling she’d been planning on having them stay with her from the moment they entered her carriage. She hoped they hadn’t exchanged one kind of captivity for another.
34.
The Plan
SORA sat on the floor of Selivia’s bedroom amidst a pile of cats. A litter of kittens had been born in the kitchens that summer, and Selivia hadn’t made good on her promise to their mother to find them homes before leaving for Trure. Now the cats had taken over the absent princess’s bedroom. Selivia would be delighted when she returned.
If she returns. Sora frowned and trailed an old scarf across the floor for the cats to chase. News had reached
Vertigon that the Truren cavalry had engaged the advancing Soolen army—and lost. The siege of Rallion City was imminent. She’d heard nothing of her mother and sister. Sora hoped they’d get out of the city before the Soolens arrived. Captain Brach would never let them walk free if his assault succeeded, and she worried the Lantern Maker would have something more sinister in mind for them.
She didn’t know when he planned to move against the Soolen army. His next step hinged on the completion of the mysterious Work beneath the Fire Warden’s greathouse. Her alliance with Daz Stoneburner and the Square Workers might be her only chance to delay his aggressions. Hopefully, they could stop him before he unleashed his power on the Lands Below.
A rustle of feathers and a squawk drew her attention away from the cats. Lima had moved Selivia’s pet furlingbird here. It used to live in a parlor in a lower level of the castle, but the Lantern Maker’s wife had taken over the room for her own use, and she hated the chattering noise it made at all hours. At least it wasn’t a thunderbird.
Sora knew the servants had discreetly continued to feed the rest of Selivia’s pets for her. She hoped Lima never discovered the greckleflush that lived in the dungeon. Selivia thought it was adorable, but she was the only one. It wasn’t nearly as useful as the cur-dragons, who still carried on their usual tasks of melting snow from pathways and delivering messages. Sora had heard that they were less cooperative for the Ruminors than they used to be for her family, though. They acted oddly restless, spewing more flame than necessary and constantly pulling at their leads. Good for them.
Rafe had been busy with his project, and Sora hadn’t seen much of Lima lately either. She had mostly been confined to her room or the library since Kel stopped the Lantern Maker’s wife from hurting her. Lima must sense she had lost her power to terrorize Sora into submission, and she refused to risk any outings or audiences lest Sora defy her in front of the Fireworkers. Sora rarely saw her Castle Guard friends anymore because she didn’t need Vertigonian escorts. And Kel was surely being watched after his intervention, so he wasn’t assigned to her inside the castle anymore either. She’d been enjoying the company of Captain Thrashe and Lieutenant Benzen too often of late.
But today, her friends had finally managed to coordinate a meeting without drawing the attention of their commanding officers. The door opened, startling the furlingbird, and the three men she’d been waiting for sauntered into the chamber. Oat, Yuri, and Kel could still move freely as Castle Guards, even though they weren’t allowed to take her outside the castle. Sora’s heart swelled at the sight of their faces, and she leapt to her feet. She had missed them.
“Hello, my queen,” Oat said, giving the chamber a quick scan. “Are we all clear?”
“Yes. The Lantern Maker has a meeting with Master Corren, and his wife is entertaining Lady Zurren.”
Lima hadn’t bothered to invite Sora to that particular tea. Lady Zurren’s social position had improved greatly since ingratiating herself with Lima. She didn’t even pretend to be the young queen’s friend anymore.
“That’s a lot of cats, my queen,” Yuri said. He crossed the chamber and picked up one of the creatures. It swatted at his red beard with a white-tipped paw.
“You can have one if you like,” Sora said. “My sister doesn’t need this many.”
“It’s all right.” Yuri chuckled as the cat crawled beneath his beard and started to purr. “I’m sure it’s having more fun here than it would out in the barracks.”
A ginger cat latched onto Oat’s boot. Two others chased each other over the brightly colored cushions on Selivia’s couch and around the guards’ ankles.
“I went to Daz’s forge to order some new dueling rapiers,” Oat said, delicately detaching himself from the ginger cat. “He spoke with the last of the Square Workers. They will help stop Master Ruminor’s secret Work.”
“Good. With the news from Trure, I don’t want to delay,” Sora said. She didn’t add that Lima’s recent habit of excluding her from meetings meant her days had to be numbered as well. She picked up another cat and cradled it in her arms. “How soon can they move?”
“Daz says they won’t know what they’re dealing with until they see it.”
“This might help.” Sora shifted the cat to her shoulder and pulled out the old journal the Lantern Maker had been studying. She’d liberated it from the library yesterday, hiding it in her skirts when Rafe wasn’t looking.
“You’re becoming a pickpocket?” Kel said. “Nice one.”
Sora blushed with pride. She’d overheard Rafe asking Lima if she’d seen the journal, but she didn’t think he suspected her. Her unassuming presence had its advantages at times.
“Did you see Berg too?” Sora asked Oat.
“I’m going there tonight,” Oat said. “Daz wants some non-Worker backup in case they run into guards or something inside the Fire Warden’s greathouse.”
“That’s a good idea. And the army?”
“Jale says they’re still focused on recruiting,” Yuri said. “Half the young duelists on the mountain have enlisted. At this rate there won’t be any competitors left come the start of the season.”
“More trophies for us,” Kel said.
“Do you think there will even be a season if we go to war?” Sora asked.
Kel winced. “Let’s hope we never get that far. I’d hate to disappoint the fans.”
“As long as they can see you, I don’t reckon they care whether you’re actually dueling or not,” Oat said.
Kel shoved him lightly and sighed. “True. True. There are advantages to being this handsome.”
“Have any of you seen Lady Atria lately?” Sora asked, not wanting to get off track.
“I spent a nice long time in her parlor last night,” Kel said. “I don’t want to alarm you, but she has been entertaining a high percentage of Ruminor supporters lately.”
Sora frowned. “Is she trying to get information?”
“Maybe,” Kel said. “But you have to understand that she’s addicted to influence. She has always cultivated ties with the most-powerful people in Vertigon regardless of their politics. The Fireworkers grow more powerful by the day. I’m not saying she’ll betray you, but we need to watch out for her.”
“Maybe we she shouldn’t use her parlor when we make our move,” Oat said.
“It’s in the perfect spot, though,” Yuri said. “We won’t find a better place to hide on that street.”
“I think we’re safe to wait in the parlor while we keep an eye on the Workers,” Kel said. “Just don’t be surprised if Lady Atria pretends not to know us if things go poorly.”
“Understood,” Sora said.
Oat scratched his chin, where a shadow of a beard roughened his jaw. “It’s up to Stoneburner now. Let’s hope he learns something from this stolen book of yours.”
“I reckon that just might save us,” Kel said.
Sora smiled. She felt vindicated for not taking advantage of the rescue attempt earlier that winter. She could never have stolen the journal or found out Rafe was working on something dangerous if she had fled the castle. She hoped the others were starting to see the wisdom of her decision.
“We need to move quickly,” she said. “The Lantern Maker is building a weapon and an army. I’m pretty sure both those things are easier to fight when they’re still in progress.” Sora could almost admire the Lantern Maker for his tenacity. He was making the move from usurper to aspiring conqueror with remarkable speed. She wondered how long he’d been planning all this. She understood he had originally sought revenge for the long-ago death of his first daughter. But that had ceased to be his primary aim.
The furlingbird gave a squawk, pulling Sora’s attention to the sun slanting sharply through the three tall windows. She’d be expected for dinner soon, and the Guards shouldn’t linger either.
“Is there anything else we need to discuss?” she asked.
“The Workers are still causing problems, my queen,” Yuri said. “I br
oke up a fight the other day between one of the weaker Workers and a tavern keeper. The Worker can’t get enough Fire for production anymore, but he said the tavern keeper should give him free ale on account of his status. That didn’t go over well.”
“I’ve heard about fights too,” Oat said. “It’s not always the non-Workers starting them either. The Fireworkers like to show off.”
“Is the Lantern Maker doing anything about it?” Sora asked. That wasn’t on the list of things he discussed with her during their hours in the library.
“The army patrols the rougher streets at night,” Yuri said. “Not sure that helps things, though.”
“The sooner we can restore the balance, the better,” Sora said.
“I agree,” Oat said. “I miss the old Vertigon.”
Sora missed it too. The Peace had been special. She hoped their plans with Daz and his friends would help them bring it back soon.
Yuri put the cat down, gave it a final scratch, and said, “We’d better go our separate ways before Captain Thrashe notices we’re in here.”
“Does he suspect anything?” Sora asked.
“He’s had his eye on us from the beginning as original members of the New Guard,” Oat said with a shrug. “He doesn’t trust us anyway, so I’m not too worried. With all due respect, they seem to think you’re not a threat, Your Majesty.”
“That’s fair enough.” Sora grinned. “I’m only a little girl, after all.”
“That’s right,” Yuri said. “And you’re a girl we’re damned proud to serve!”
“Hear! Hear!” Oat said.
Sora stood a little straighter, despite the cat in her arms choosing that moment to latch onto a curl of her hair. “I can’t tell you how much it means to have you all looking out for me.”
“It is a pleasure, my queen.”
“And an honor!”
“Let’s not be too sappy,” Kel said. “You two are getting as bad as Telvin Jale. Let’s hit the practice hall before dinnertime.”
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