by Jenny Moss
“What’s wrong?”
Don’t ask me, I thought.
“What, Audrey?”
I shook my head and sat down in the leaves. I just needed to rest. I put my face against the cold ground. Just rest. The pain did not abate.
“You sense them there.”
I looked up at his wild eyes. “I feel their fear, Kenway, which means they are not dead.”
He paled. “In the village, in Erce, you felt their fear, too.”
The truth of this hit me powerfully. I groaned. My stomach was hot with an icy fire.
“Shh, Audrey. They’ll hear you.”
He wrapped his arm around me. At first, each step was misery. I thought I might collapse. But as he led me toward the horse, I felt some strength return.
“Here,” he said, leaning me against a tree. I took in gulps of air. He pulled the flask out of his boot and bade me to drink. I put my hand on his and drank the cold water.
“I thank you.”
He sat beside me, his face unreadable.
“What will you do?” I asked him.
“I cannot fight an army by myself.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “But it seems I must do it. Either here or at the queen’s castle. At your castle, Audrey.”
“I’m sorry about your family.”
“I’m too late,” he said.
“Fyren wouldn’t harm them. He needs your father’s support. He’ll try to win his allegiance. If he can do that, other lords might follow. That will be his thinking.”
“And how do you know this?”
“I know him,” I said, resting my head against the tree.
“You always seemed to.”
I looked up. “Do you think I want him to be victorious?”
He stared at me.
“I thought we had left our suspicions behind us, Kenway.”
“Say you are right, my queen,” he said. “Pray tell me what Fyren does, then, when my father rails against him and declares his unwavering loyalty to King Alfrid. How long will it take Fyren to decide the fate of my father and my sisters…?” His voice trailed off.
“Don’t think of it, Kenway. Don’t let your mind go to it.”
“My father was right. I should have stayed here instead of running off with you. What good came out of that?”
His words dug deep. If we had not left together, I wouldn’t have discovered my love for him. How could he not feel the same? If he didn’t, what good were my feelings?
“What?” he asked. “Why do you look at me so?”
I tried to answer, but couldn’t.
“You think my father is right about me?” he accused.
My eyes stung. He was far away from me indeed if he misread me so utterly. “Your father no longer thinks clearly. Even about himself.”
“I’m surprised you don’t blame him. It was my family that made your life what it is. Without your father’s death, you would not have lived the life you did.”
“Your family puts too much guilt upon itself,” I said, but he wasn’t listening to me.
“If I try to save them, I might jeopardize it all. As much as I’m pulled toward them, I cannot do it. My father wouldn’t want me to.”
“I wouldn’t worry about his wishes, Kenway. Do what you think is right.”
His eyes narrowed. “You want me to try to save them? Why? So we’ll miss the coronation and you’ll not have to face Fyren?” He threw his hand at me. “You are selfish and manipulative, like every other monarch I have met.”
How could he say such things to me? “I don’t expect you to understand, Kenway, but I will do what I will do.”
Strong words, but guilt nudged at me. How could I deny Kenway’s words about Fyren? My thoughts returned to Kenway’s sisters in the castle, to the slain in Erce, to our friends in Goodham. The regent’s reach was far and deep.
“My duty is to protect the queen. And that I will do. Even at my family’s expense.” He went over to our horse. “It’s time we left.”
The ride to the castle took longer than we thought. Fyren’s men crawled the woods surrounding Lord Leofwine’s town.
We stopped to rest by the stream with the blackberries, but neither of us touched the fruit still growing there. The horse drank from the brook and grazed in the grass, but Kenway and I said very little to each other.
It was dark and cold when we reached our hole in the wall, our way back into the castle. It was still there, still open. No one had discovered how we’d escaped.
We settled into our camp for the night. I wrapped myself in my blankets, watching Kenway comb the horse. He was gentle with the animal, but he was short with me. So I stayed quiet. Sitting cross-legged, I wrapped as much warmth around me as I could. The ground felt so cold, like the snow I’d felt in the mountains. I tucked my face inside the blanket to hide from the sharp wind.
Kenway threw the currycomb back into the saddlebag. He sat on a stump and put his head in his hands. He didn’t know his family’s fate, and he was here, I knew, because he thought he could persuade me to change my mind.
He took a long drink of water from his flask, but didn’t offer me any. “The coronation will be about midday tomorrow.”
“Yes. I think it will be easy to get Piers.”
“Easy? I have no sword. I am one against all of Fyren’s men. I appreciate your confidence,” he said, laughing bitterly, “but I think it will be far from easy.”
“I meant because of the music, the dancing, the noise of the crowd. No one will hear us.”
“Why should I save this boy? That’s not what I’m here for.”
His face showed his weariness. Each day he seemed to age another year. He now looked as old as his brother.
“I’ll do it alone then,” I said.
“I won’t leave you. You know I’ll not shirk my duty.”
“I don’t want to hear any more about duty, Kenway.”
He jumped up and hurled his flask at a tree trunk, sending bark flying. “Do you know what I’m giving up for you?”
I’d never seen him so angry. He dropped back to the ground and ran his shaking hand up and down the back of his neck.
“What love you have for them,” I whispered.
He looked over at me, but I didn’t need to see his face to know the truth of what I said. I felt his love for them. It was strong and warm, but so far away I couldn’t reach it from the icy place where I lived—the space between. I shivered and could not stop. Would he ever love me in this way?
“Why do you tremble so, Audrey?” he asked.
He picked up one of his own blankets, dusting off the dirt and leaves clinging to it, and draped it over my shoulders.
“Better?” he asked.
I nodded, but it wasn’t true. The cold came from inside me.
He returned to his stump, so far from me. So far from where I needed him to be.
“Love causes such pain,” I said, my teeth chattering. “How can it be worth it?”
“Audrey,” he said, “it is worth it.”
I crept closer, sitting on dead pine needles beside him, and laid my head against his knee.
He must have been surprised, but he said nothing. I wanted him to hold me as he did when we were on the mountain. But I couldn’t ask him. And he didn’t do it. But perhaps he lightly touched my hair?
We stayed like that for a few long moments, listening to the forest.
“I will not let you face him alone, then,” I said finally.
“What?” he asked.
I looked up at him. “Kendra said I must be there for Fyren to be defeated. Before I leave, I will help you do that.”
He dropped down beside me. “Before you leave?” He paused, then took my hands. “Deor needs her queen.”
And I felt that need everywhere I went. It yanked and scratched at me. I would drown in that dark need if I allowed it to flood my soul. Erce had given me one night’s peace from it. But she was a fickle god, mother or no. I had no doubt she would desert me on a whim
, leaving me to succumb to madness. And I had seen what madness did to a queen. The memory of Devona’s rages caused me to tremble even now. That could not be my fate. I must find a way to help Deor that would not mean that sacrifice.
I squeezed Kenway’s hands. “Let…us do one thing at a time.”
He paused, as if he might say more.
But I did not have the strength to argue. “We will find Piers first.” His little face came to me again, and with it, a desperate loneliness. Now that I was so close to him, just outside the walls where he was held, I felt his absence keenly, and I knew he felt mine. “He is more like family to me than anyone has ever been, Kenway. I must save him.”
“Don’t cry,” he said, wiping my cheeks.
“I have been a poor friend to Piers.”
“You are returning for him. You love him.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Forgive me,” he said, raising my chin to look at me. “I shouldn’t have said such cruel things to you.”
“No, you were right,” I said firmly. “Fyren cannot rule.”
Relief flooded his face. “No, he cannot.”
“We will reveal who Fyren truly is,” I said. “Once the people see that, Deor can recover.”
His eyes held questions, but I had no more answers.
“All right, Audrey,” he said, kissing me gently. “I will protect you.”
“I will protect you,” I said, putting my hand on his cheek.
“You will?” he asked.
“We’ll do it together, like when we fought the mountain men.”
He smiled. “And what did you do in that fight?”
“I bit the giant’s neck.”
He laughed a little, then gave me a long look. “You’re trembling.” He ran his fingers down my lips. “You are too cold.”
“I cannot get warm, Kenway.”
“Come to me.”
I felt a sweet rush of yearning for him and let myself be wrapped up in his arms. I could not get him close enough. Did he feel this same ache inside? I wanted to have him with me always, but I feared my life would not ever be so giving.
Chapter Thirty-Five
A pine torch helped us find our way to the stone staircase. When I saw the steps, I felt an urge to run back to the safety of the woods. I had left a shadow, finally free, connected to no one. I’d had the freedom I’d yearned for all my days within my grasp.
Now I returned, not a queen in my mind, but no longer a shadow, and no longer free. I was entangled. With Kenway, Piers, Ingen, Stillman, the twins. Caring for them was weakening me. I felt their vulnerability in my legs, my eyes, my heart. I felt their need.
As we climbed the steps going up and up, the memory of the day of our escape loomed larger in my mind. I pressed my hand against the wet wall, feeling unsteady.
I remembered Eldred’s face, and the moment of his death when his eyes found mine. I had seen fear in them, fear for me, as if he were reaching across the room, trying to push me from danger.
He had made me the queen’s shadow for the sake of the kingdom. And I would be dead if he had not done it. And, now, he was dead, and I was sorry for it.
Sadness was cold, I’d discovered.
At the stone door, Kenway pulled an iron torch holder. The door opened.
We slipped in and passed through the small, cluttered room, then into Eldred’s chamber. It was dark, with a shuttered window and a cold hearth. We moved through the queen’s chambers, every room cold and drafty. There was no life here. Gone were the giggles, the sighs, the clanks of armor, the music of the harp.
I felt empty. She had been our queen. Not the true one, but real to us. And now she was dead, sacrificed for me. I had never been in this room without her. I hadn’t expected to feel anything. Now grief—unexplainable, fierce grief—shot through my heart as if an icy arrow had pierced me.
Kenway said nothing, but his face was agony.
“You mourn her,” I said, feeling his pain.
“I feel so distant from her, as if she never lived.”
I felt the opposite. I had lost a protector, if not a sister.
We left her chambers.
This part of the castle was now deserted, haunted by ghosts leaving trails of cold memories. Kenway took us up tight, twisting stairs I had never climbed. Holding my hand, he led me down a long passageway and stopped at a bulky door. It was locked.
“There are swords, spears, and daggers in this room,” Kenway said. “I hoped it wouldn’t be locked. It was a fool’s hope.”
“Where’s the key?” I asked, leaning against the wall.
“On the constable’s belt,” he said.
“The key is needed to steal the sword, but the sword is needed to steal the key,” I said, giving him a small smile.
He did not return it. “Come.”
Another deserted passageway. Kenway pulled me into a cluttered room.
“What is this place?” I asked.
It had few windows. Thick cobwebs hung in every corner. Wooden crates were stacked one on top of the other. Old iron torches and worthless plates and bowls were thrown here and there.
“A storage room,” said Kenway. “Maybe there’s a weapon.”
He put his torch into an empty brace. He began digging through one pile, tossing aside spoons and combs and shoes as he looked. I searched in an old chest, finding doeskin slippers and silver brushes. I shut the lid and looked for a more promising heap.
Kenway found a sword. The blade was not sharp enough. The black leather on the handle was loose and hanging partially off. It would have to do.
“We must hurry,” he said, positioning the sword in his hand.
He took us down another passage, moving so quickly I was disoriented. He stopped at a stone staircase that plunged downward. It was on an outside wall. Light came in through vertical slits.
“These stairs end at a guardroom for the dungeon,” he whispered. “There are two ways into the room. These steps. And a door that leads back outside. Once outside, we will be on the east side of the castle, away from the coronation.”
“I know, Kenway. I have been here, remember?”
He nodded. “There will be at least one guard responsible for the prisoners. Usually the dungeon isn’t heavily guarded because we hold few prisoners there.”
“I know.”
“Yes.” He took a breath.
“You cannot kill him.”
“What?”
“The guard. You cannot.”
“How do you expect me to rescue Piers? I have to go past the guard to get to the dungeon stairs.”
“He’s not one of Fyren’s men. He’s just a man working in the castle.” I couldn’t say it, but I felt protective.
“I would not have thought you to be so softhearted. Stay here.”
“I must come with you.”
“No, Audrey. I am to protect you. You need to stay here or you’ll make it more difficult for me.”
“All right.”
“Audrey,” he admonished.
“I said I would.”
Before he left, he turned back to me.
“What?” I asked, wondering at his delay. “I promise.”
He pulled me to him and kissed me. “I’ll call for you.” Then he gave me a look of warning. He still thought I would follow.
“Go,” I said, but with a smile.
I sat on the top step and dropped my head to my knees. It was so difficult to trust. At first, I heard nothing, then a shout and scuffling from below. This would not do. I found I had to break my word after all.
As quickly as I could, I made my way down the stairs. The staircase was well lit from the numerous shafts of light.
Emerging at the bottom, I came upon Kenway in a fight of fists and muscle. His rusty sword lay on the ground in the center of the stone floor.
The room was so small, the two men kept running into walls. The guard was larger, but had a great belly. Kenway was much quicker. He smashed his fist at the gua
rd’s nose. A shock of red erupted. The guard growled and threw his bulk into Kenway, who groaned when he was hit in the stomach. He ducked under the man’s arm and crawled for his sword.
To my left was an open door to the outside.
In front of me I saw a dark staircase leading down.
I stumbled outside. I could hear trumpets blaring and yells and shouts from a large crowd. The joust was about to begin.
Huge stones lay on the ground. I heaved one up, finding the strength I needed, and carried it to the room. Kenway was up, sword in hand. The guard was in a corner, blood smeared on his face, his eyes blazing. His arms were out, and he rocked from foot to foot, daring Kenway to stab him.
I got up on the table, gesturing for Kenway to back him up to me.
The guard’s rasping breaths filled the room, but he would not give up the fight. Kenway was sure to kill him soon.
Finally, the guard was in front of me. I lifted the rock high and hit him on the head with all my might.
He collapsed.
Kenway, sweating, his hand on his stomach, stared down at the guard’s flaccid face. “You might have killed him anyway.”
“He’s breathing.”
I took the ring of keys off the guard’s belt. Kenway grabbed a lit torch. It was time to find Piers.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Kenway, with his sword in front of him, led us down the steps to the dungeon. Small torches burned, but the light was poor. I held the torch up high so he could see the steep steps. The familiar smell of mold and rot crept toward us.
At the bottom, I shone the light back and forth. The narrow passage extended both to the left and the right. All was quiet, like a tomb. I thought of Maren and the guards carrying her out, just here. I felt her disappointment in my mother and in me. Maren was dead, but her feelings lingered.
We peered inside each cell. All empty. There were no prisoners, just as during my short stay here.
My heart fell. What if Piers was not here?
At the third door down, through a small barred opening, I saw something curled up in a ball on the floor, lit up by the weak light from the crack of a window. I rattled the bars before Kenway could stop me, calling his name, and saw movement.
Kenway took the torch from me and held it up high. By that light, I opened the door. The little form sat up.