by C. Greenwood
But he spoke up now. “Why did you lie to Ada?” he asked softly. “Why didn’t you tell our real names?”
I decided it was time to be honest with him. “Listen. We can’t be Luka and Ferran, sons of the congrave, anymore. It isn’t safe for us. We have to pretend to be someone else. Someone Father’s enemies will have no reason to hunt or lock up.”
“If anyone finds out the truth, will we go back to the tower?” he asked fearfully.
“I’ve already promised you we’ll never return there,” I reminded him. “I won’t let them take us back.”
That seemed to satisfy him, but he had another question. “Why did you pick Rideon and Ardeon for our made-up names?”
“I thought you would like it,” I said. “Remember the young princes from the fairy story Mother used to tell?”
Ferran nodded and yawned. I could tell he would soon be asleep again. I put a hand to his forehead and found it was as warm as ever. Get him medicine, Cadvan had said. But how could I? I didn’t dare go out into the street again tonight even if I knew where to find what we needed.
“Tell me the story again,” Ferran mumbled.
“Sure.”
I knew he couldn’t really remember when our mother used to tell it. He had been too young when she died to recall much of anything about her. But I had kept her memory alive all these years by repeating her old bedtime tales.
I told Ferran’s favorite now, the story of two boy princes who hid from an evil giant in a magical forest, which protected them.
Ferran was silent when I finished, and again I thought he was asleep.
Then he whispered into the stillness, “Luka, can we go there? To the magic forest that kept the princes safe? It protected the real Rideon and Ardeon. Maybe it could protect us too.”
“The forest is only a story, Ferran,” I reminded him.
He made a disappointed sound, but he was old enough by now to know the difference between truth and tales. We were quiet for a few minutes, and soon I heard his breathing grow deep and even. At least he felt better when he was asleep.
As I stared into the blackness, I thought about Ferran’s wanting to go to the forest. He was right about one thing. We needed someplace safe and permanent to hide. Someplace far away where no one would ever find us.
CHAPTER SIX
I was awakened in the early hours of the morning by the sound of rain pattering on the roof overhead. The dim light filtering through the window revealed the still figure of Ada curled up with a blanket along the wall. I supposed she must have seen no sign of our pursuers last night and had finally come back upstairs to rest.
Beside me, Ferran still slept deeply. I checked his breathing and temperature. His condition hadn’t changed.
Quietly, so as not to wake him, I slipped out from beneath the tangle of blankets. Shivering in the cold, I pulled on my boots. I had reached a decision in the night. I couldn’t let Ferran go on this way. I had to get something to bring down his fever.
Crossing the room, I snatched my traveling pack from where I had left it leaning against the wall. I rummaged inside, past the foodstuffs and other articles Cadvan had packed, past the little tin soldiers he had thoughtfully sent for Ferran. My brother loved those toy soldiers. They were some of the few possessions he had been allowed to keep from our old life in the family castle.
In the bottom of the bag, I found what I had hoped for, a few coins tucked into a small pouch. I didn’t know how Cadvan had come by the money, and there wasn’t much of it. But with luck it would be enough.
I was just pocketing the coin pouch when I heard a stirring behind me.
“Going somewhere?” asked Ada.
I could see why she was adept at thieving. She was so stealthy I hadn’t heard her crawl out from under her blanket to creep up behind me.
“My brother is getting no better,” I said. “I have to buy him medicine.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You can’t go out there.” She indicated the rain-spattered window. “Your enemies will see you. Do you even know your way around the city?”
“I don’t,” I admitted. “But I’ve got to take a chance. Tell me, is there a place near here where I can buy medicine?”
She chewed her lower lip in thought. “There’s an apothecary. I might have, well, borrowed a few things from his shop once or twice before. I can’t be seen in there again.”
“You don’t have to be,” I said. “You’ve endangered yourself enough for us. I’ll do this alone.”
“Then I’ll watch over your brother until you get back.”
I hesitated. I was grateful to this girl, but did I trust her enough to leave her alone with Ferran? She had already admitted to being a thief. What if she decided to betray us to our enemies in hopes of a reward? Such a suspicion would never have occurred to me in the old days, but my faith in people had been shaken by recent events. I was learning it wasn’t only the tower guards who could be cruel. Strangers who posed as friends weren’t always to be relied upon either.
But I had been impressed by Ada’s magic skills and by her gentle way with Ferran over dinner last night. Besides, what choice did I have but to trust her?
She gave me directions to the shop. I only hoped I could remember them. As I was about to duck out the doorway and down the stairs, she stopped me.
“There’s a better way out,” she said. “The front entrance opens onto a street, but if you go around back instead, you’re less likely to be seen.”
She opened the window, letting the rain in.
“Cross the roof, climb down the stack of crates along the back of the building, and into the alley,” she said.
It didn’t sound so easy to me, but I would do my best. Clumsily I clambered out the open window. I was immediately drenched in the cold rain, which was coming down harder now. It plastered my hair over my ears and trickled down my collar in an icy stream.
Behind me, I heard Ada pull the window closed.
The slate roof was slick with the rain, and the dim early morning light made it hard to make out where I was going. I made my way to the back of the roof, slipping and falling several times. At the edge, I peered into the wet, gray alley below. There was the stack of crates Ada had described. It looked like a wobbly tower, and the crates themselves looked old and busted and none too sturdy.
Trying not to notice what a long drop it would be if I fell, I clung to the edge of the roof and awkwardly lowered myself until my feet reached the top crate. From there, climbing down the rest of them wasn’t easy. I had never practiced anything like this in my former life, either in the tower or back at the castle.
Somewhere near the bottom, I lost my footing and crashed to the cobbles, a few crates tumbling after me. Aside from the terrible racket it made, there didn’t seem to be any damage done. I was quickly on my feet and hurrying off down the empty alley.
I followed Ada’s directions as best I could. They kept me on the more deserted backstreets. Here and there I saw a few ragged-looking men and women scurrying through the rain, hooded cloaks over their heads or battered hats pulled down low. They paid me no attention. Everyone was intent on getting where they were going and escaping the miserable weather. I kept a cautious eye out but saw no sign of the two men I hoped to avoid.
Splashing through muddy puddles, I crossed a quiet street, dodging a passing mule-drawn wagon that clattered along the cobbles. There was a shop on the corner ahead, just as Ada had described it. A sign stuck out above the door, proclaiming it the apothecary’s shop. I crept close enough to look in the windows but could make out little of the dimly lit interior. A fresh stream of water trickled over me, running down from the sign overhead. The sign squeaked as it swung in the wind, unnaturally loud in the otherwise still morning.
I gathered my courage and ducked into the shop. The inside was like a small shadowed cave, with a single golden lamp glowing over the counter. At first I thought the place deserted. But then a bent old man appeared from behind a curtain that divide
d the room and hid the back half.
I showed the apothecary my money and asked for whatever he recommended to cool a child’s fever. He gave me a packet of herbs with instructions for the dose and took a suspiciously large portion of my few precious coins.
Back out on the street, I congratulated myself on pulling off my mission so quickly and without incident. All I had to do now was get back to the abandoned lodging house where I had left the others.
It was as I was crossing the street, returning the way I had come, that I saw him—a red-bearded man in a black cloak with a three-cornered hat pulled low over his forehead. He was striding down the street in an apparent hurry, eyes flicking left and right as though looking for something. I knew that something was me.
He was coming my direction, and we were about to pass one another. Any second he would look up and see my face.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I did the only thing I could do. I dodged into the nearest open door lining the street. It led into a small alcove that was some sort of bookshop, its shelves crowded full of both cheap and finely bound books. Scrolls, paper, inkpots, and quills were spread over tables. Maps were pinned to the walls. The rich smells of paper and leather permeated the air, summoning memories of my father’s old library.
But there was no time to be distracted by my surroundings. I peered out the window, watching the red-bearded man. He hesitated in the street, not far away, looking around him.
I turned my back quickly, afraid he would look through the window and the two of us would come eye to eye.
“You, boy! Get out of here!”
Startled at the harsh demand, I looked up to find the shop’s owner, a thin and balding man, glowering at me.
“I’ve told you younglings I don’t want beggars in my shop,” he continued. “Go make mischief someplace else!”
Indignation flashed through me. I was nobly born and had never been called a beggar before. Not even the tower guards had ever addressed me so disrespectfully. But I quickly remembered my ragged clothing and realized I must look like every other half-drowned peasant boy roaming the city streets on a rainy day. It was important to maintain that appearance.
“I am Rideon,” I reminded myself.
The bookseller narrowed angry eyes behind his spectacles. “What’s that you’re mumbling? I don’t care what your name is, boy! Get out!”
A glance out the window revealed the red-bearded man was still out there.
The bookseller was making shooing motions, and his complaints were getting louder. The last thing I needed was to attract attention.
“I’m not a beggar. I’m a customer,” I burst out desperately. “See?”
I held out the remaining coins I had left after purchasing Ferran’s medicine.
“I want to buy something,” I insisted.
Seeing the coins, the bookseller still looked doubtful, but at least he stopped urging me toward the door.
“A customer, eh?” He looked me up and down again, probably wondering what a ragged street boy wanted with wares like his. “What kind of book do you want to buy?”
I glanced hurriedly around, anxious to justify my purpose here.
My gaze fell on a map of the four provinces spread over a low table.
“That,” I told him. “I’ll take the map.”
By the time I had concluded my business with the bookseller and was back out on the street, the red-bearded man was nowhere to be seen. As I set off the way I had come before, I felt a sense of hope for the first time in a long time. I had accomplished my mission without capture, and I carried inside my coat the little packet of herbs that would surely help Ferran. I also carried alongside it the rolled-up map of the provinces, which might prove useful as we sought a new place to hide.
I was less pleased to note that I had little money left. I suspected both the apothecary and the bookseller had cheated me on my purchases. I wasn’t familiar enough with the value of money and what it bought to challenge them. Growing up in the castle, I had always requested whatever I wanted, and others, like my father, had provided it. I was unused to considering costs.
I was beginning to get a feel for the way these streets were laid out, and I made my way back to the lodging house without getting lost. I even noticed as I climbed the stack of crates to the roof that it seemed a little easier this time. Across the wet slates I went, splashing through the still-falling drizzle, until I reached the cracked window. Ada must have been watching for me, because she let me in at once.
Inside, I found that Ferran continued to sleep and was still feverish.
“Were you seen?” asked Ada.
“I nearly encountered one of our enemies in the street, but I don’t think he saw me,” I said, shivering from the cold.
I dripped pools of rainwater onto the floor. Ada suggested I take off my wet clothes and boots and wrap up in a warm blanket. She seemed amused that I stepped out into the dark hall to do this, but I wasn’t accustomed to changing in front of a girl. For that matter, I wasn’t used to being around one at all. The only female I had had much to do with was my mother, and that was years ago. I was still shivering when I returned to the little room, carrying my soggy clothes.
Ada created one of those magic glowing orbs of hers, this one bigger than my fist. Instead of the cold blue light she had summoned last night, this light had a warmer golden glow resembling real fire. She hung a blanket over the window so no one would notice the light escaping.
Since actual heat emanated from the blazing orb, I spread out my wet things around it to dry. When I showed Ada the packet of herbs I had obtained, she surprised me by showing she could cook over the blaze too, producing a battered old pot and boiling the herbs in water. It looked and smelled like an unappetizing brew. I only hoped it would work.
While the drink heated, I rolled my newly acquired map out across the floor. I had managed to keep it dry inside my coat during the return journey, but now I saw that some previous owner had been less careful. Ignoring the spots of mildew, I studied the provinces spread before me. Thanks to a diligent tutor who had instructed me during my earliest years, I recognized most of what I saw. There were the familiar names printed across the four provinces: Camdon, Kersis, Cros, and Ellesus. Camdon I was eager to escape, but which of these others would be an easy place for a congrave’s sons to pass unnoticed, a place where Ferran and me could set up a new life?
“You’re searching for someplace to hide,” observed Ada, looking over my shoulder.
“This province isn’t safe for my brother and me,” I told her and left it at that. There was no reason for her to know exactly what we were fleeing.
If she noticed my vagueness, she didn’t appear to care. “If I was trying to get lost, this is where I would go,” she said, pointing to a spot on the map.
It was a heavily treed area deep in the heart of Ellesus, a province that bordered this one.
I read aloud the name above it. “Dimmingwood.”
This Dimmingwood forest seemed to cover most of Ellesus, stretching from the Skeltai wilderness and beyond the province’s capital. The capital city, marked by a red star, was labeled Selbius. I recognized it only as a name I had been made to memorize in geography lessons. I had never been beyond the borders of Camdon.
“Why would you go there?” I asked Ada.
“Because I know this forest,” she said. “It’s a vast wood you could travel through for days without reaching an end. Anyone wanting to escape notice might easily hide in the little woods villages scattered all over. Outsiders hardly ever visit those places. My family lives near one of the forest villages.”
“If Ellesus is your home province, how did you come to be here?” I asked.
She looked uncomfortable. “I quarreled with my family and ran away, dreaming of adventure. But things haven’t worked out like I thought, and I’ve only been able to stay alive by living rough. I’ve been thinking about going back.”
Although she clearly didn’t like admitting
this, I was impressed. She couldn’t be more than a year or two older than me, sixteen at most. But she had managed to journey alone between provinces and had learned to survive in some way, without help from anyone.
“My adventure hasn’t worked out at all like I imagined, and I miss my home,” she continued, casting me a sidelong glance. “It wouldn’t take much persuading to get me to show you the way to Ellesus. We could travel together if you want.”
I thought about it. It seemed like a good opportunity, the best we were likely to find. Ada was more experienced than me, and she knew the route. With her as our guide, our chances of reaching Ellesus improved.
Ferran’s words from the other night came to mind. He had wanted to hide in a magic forest. This Dimmingwood might be the closest we could get.
The herbal brew in the pot was beginning to boil.
I woke Ferran and helped him sit up so he could drink the medicine. He looked a little more alert now. Maybe all his sleeping lately had done him good. He looked around our ugly little attic room without recognition. Remembering he had been unconscious on our arrival last night, I explained how we had gotten here.
“Then we’re in a safe place now?” he asked. “No one will chase us anymore?”
I wished I could tell him that was true. “Soon we’ll be out of our enemies’ reach, in a place so far away they’ll never find us,” I told him. “You asked to go to a magic forest, remember? I’ve found us one. We’ll leave for Ellesus and Dimmingwood right away.”
Ada, who had been listening in, disagreed. We needed time to gather supplies, she said. And after my near encounter on the street earlier, it would be best if she went alone to collect them.
I hated to wait another day. Every moment we remained in this town, the likelihood grew that the two men searching for us would discover our hiding place. There was also the knowledge never far from my mind that soldiers from the tower were surely looking for us. But I couldn’t argue with Ada’s reasoning.
She bundled up and clambered out the window. I watched as she made her way easily across the rain-sleeked roof and climbed down over the side, as if she had done it a thousand times before.