by Jenny Moss
“Piers,” I whispered, afraid it would not be him.
He crawled toward me. I went to him. He wrapped himself around my waist, feeling like dusty bones. “I knew you would come back,” he said in a muffled voice.
Such guilt came over me. How could I have left him?
“I’m sorry, Piers,” I whispered, with stinging eyes.
He buried his head deeper into my shirt.
“I forgive you,” he said.
Warmth rushed into me, for the first time in days, thawing the edges of my heart. I pulled him in tighter. He could forgive me when I could not forgive my mother. Hadn’t I left him just as she’d left me?
“We must go,” said Kenway. He was in the passage, holding up the torch.
“One moment,” I said. “He’s weak.”
I dug in the small bag hanging from my waist and gave Piers some bread. Kenway handed him the flask from his boot. Piers could eat little, but he drank the water.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
He nodded.
“We must go,” said Kenway. “Help me move the guard to the cell.”
It was a laborious feat getting the heavy guard down the stairs and into Piers’s cell. Even if he woke, no one would hear his cries until we were gone.
“Come with me,” Piers said in a raspy voice as Kenway locked the cell.
He led us down the dark passage, bending over, holding his side. I remembered the vision Kendra had shown me and knew there were bruises under his shirt. I tried to get him to lean against me, but he brushed me off and kept stumbling forward.
I thought of something else in Kendra’s vision. Fyren, kicking Piers to get him to reveal the whereabouts of someone he was seeking. Hadn’t it been Kenway he’d been trying to find?
But now Fyren had captured Lord Leofwine’s castle, and Lord Callus’s. Did he think there was no one left to oppose him, that he’d finally defeated my father? He’d tell himself that it was to avenge his mother’s fate, but it wasn’t that. It was a dark part of him that would never be sated. He must not rule Deor, ever. He must not.
Piers stopped. He leaned against the wall and pushed my hand away. “I’m all right, Shadow. My head is spinning a little, is all.”
I shivered in the cold dark. I had betrayed this boy. And I had betrayed my father, too. He would be ashamed of me, just as Kenway’s father was ashamed of him. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to will the thoughts away. But they clung to me.
“Where are you taking us?” Kenway asked Piers.
“Come,” he said, starting off again.
He led us into the blackness. Was this a way out? Another secret place I knew nothing of? My foot brushed against some small thing that moved. I heard it scamper away. I wondered how many rats were running with us.
Piers was moving quickly now, not so unsteady on his feet as before. Or perhaps he was just impatient to leave the dungeon. It was clear he knew this place well. I was confused by our many turns in these dark passages. I would never find my way out alone.
I felt soft earth beneath my shoes. Would he lead us back to our cave? He opened a wooden door to our left.
And there was Eldred, in long gray robes.
Tears pricked my eyes as I stared at his solemn face. He was not dead, after all. I brushed the tears away. I would not let him see me so sentimental.
“Well, come in,” he said.
He looked paler. Gaunt. But still tall and intimidating. I surprised myself because I was most glad to see him. I found myself staring at him and not being able to look away.
As Piers went by, Eldred touched his head, briefly. I had never seen Eldred affectionate with Piers, never seen him affectionate with anyone. He took Kenway’s torch and placed it in an iron holder. Many torches lined the walls, casting soft light about us and dispelling some of the gloom and closeness of the room.
A straw pallet lay on the floor. A chest was shoved against the wall. No books. No fire. It must be cold at night.
He pointed to the ground and the four of us sat in the dirt.
“Were you successful?” Eldred asked, looking at Kenway and me both.
Kenway gestured to me. “Your queen is here.”
“Yes, yes. But what about Erce?” He looked at me. “Did you reach her?”
“We tried,” I said.
He cursed. “Did you find Ingen?”
“Yes, but it didn’t work,” Kenway said. “Your plan failed.”
“I think not. Did you see Kendra?”
“She had much to tell us.” Kenway started to say more, but hesitated. Something flashed in his eyes. Was he angry at this task? At being told so very little? And not receiving any thanks? If so, being ever the loyal knight, he said nothing about it.
Eldred nodded. “Yes, but what did Kendra prophesy? Did she have any visions about this day?”
Kenway told him what Kendra saw. Eldred cursed again.
“Kenway has served Deor well,” I said to Eldred.
“As he should have,” Eldred replied. “Part of the reason I chose him was he had much to prove and his family had no love of Fyren. I knew he would do what I asked of him.”
“Ever the dutiful knight,” I said, drawing a sharp look from Kenway. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly, shaking my head a little.
“And where would Deor be without such men?” Eldred snapped.
Kenway nodded at the adviser, as if they understood each other.
“You also chose him,” I said to Eldred, “because he knew Ingen and her family.”
“You are right,” Eldred said, smiling a little. “It is a relief to have a thinking queen.”
But I could not mock Devona anymore. “You are well hidden from Fyren,” I said, looking around. At least his cell had no lock on the door.
“I told the regent Eldred was dead,” said Piers.
A slip of smile played at Eldred’s lips. “He was always a slow thinker, wasn’t he, Piers?”
“I saw you stabbed, Eldred,” I said. “How did you survive?”
“There was much confusion in that room. Ingrid led me out the same way you escaped.”
“Ingrid?” I asked, shocked. “The queen’s lady?”
“The same way we came out?” asked Kenway. “But I didn’t see you.”
“You were gone. We moved much slower, Ingrid and I. The hidden staircase also leads to these rooms beneath the castle.”
I looked at Piers. “How did you know where Eldred was?”
He gave a weak grin, but said nothing.
“Ingrid settled me here, then brought Piers and Hilda,” said Eldred.
“Hilda!” I exclaimed.
“Ingrid and Hilda nursed me back to health. I helped them, as best I could in my state, telling them which herbs worked best. Two days ago, I made them leave the castle. They were in danger as long as they stayed.” His eyes were on me. “People are not always what they seem.”
“Hilda and Ingrid aren’t all goodness, I know that much,” I said, remembering their stinging slaps.
“Who is?” He looked at me pointedly.
“But what about Piers?” asked Kenway. “How did he end up in the dungeon?”
“He wanted to continue to spy on Fyren. We didn’t know Fyren already suspected him.”
“You tricked me, Piers,” I said. “I never guessed you to be a spy.”
Piers nodded toward Kenway. “So you do like him?” he asked, smirking. “I knew it. I fooled you, but you didn’t fool me.”
My cheeks felt hot. The little imp. This was the Piers I remembered.
Kenway gave me a smile, but became serious when Eldred looked at him.
Piers took my hand and studied my palm. “You have troubles ahead of you, Shadow, but it will turn out in the end.”
I nodded, remembering those very words.
He crawled over to the pallet. I put the pillow under his head and covered him with a blanket, as if I were his mother. Hadn’t I played that role for him in a sense? I remembered, three
nights ago, when Erce comforted me. Surely I had always been in her thoughts, as Piers had been in mine.
Eldred sighed. He unfolded his long body. After rummaging around in the chest, he handed me a silk dress of deep green, with a small bow.
“A gift for your birthday.”
I had forgotten. On this day, I was sixteen.
“In your mother’s favorite gown, you will finally look like our Queen Audrey.”
“Anne’s,” I said, pressing my hands into the silk. She had worn this. If only I could touch her hand as easily as I touched this gown of hers. “That name Audrey does not belong to me, Eldred.”
“It was the name of your father’s mother, your grandmother, a strong queen, a warrior queen. Her name has always been there, waiting for you to claim it. And now you will claim it and repay all those who have helped you.”
“I will see Fyren defeated,” I said. “Kendra said I must be there, and so I will be. But I cannot be queen.”
“This is not about you!” His face twisted. “Your duty is to Deor, your kingdom. That’s not just an idea.” He waved his long arm at the resting boy. “It is Piers. It’s Kenway. Devona. Kendra, Ingen, Maren. Can you not see that?”
Glancing at Piers, lying in the corner, I thought of his mother’s death, his father’s disappearance. And then, of Kenway’s guilt over not helping his sisters, his father. Of Eldred, having no life but this. Of Kendra’s loss. Of Maren’s face as they carried her out of the dungeon. Of Ingen and what she might sacrifice if I would not claim the throne.
I saw my own selfishness. Shouldn’t I be willing to sacrifice, too?
“We are disconnected from nature and from each other,” said Eldred. “Because of the king’s death and Erce’s grief. Through you, we can reconnect. Our spirits flow to you, Audrey. You are the collector, pulling in the essence of who we are, joining us together, making us more powerful. Can’t you feel us?”
“I only feel your weakness,” I whispered, pressing the gown to my cheek.
And then I realized why that was. It was Erce. It was her sadness. Her grief was affecting us all.
“Pain sometimes prevents us from finding our strength,” said Eldred. “Let us in. Fight us no longer. Accept your fate. You will see. Our strength will awaken what has died and will make Fyren reap the whirlwind.”
Let them in. Breathe in. It was what Erce told me to do. What Ingen had been trying to tell me.
Could I bear it? I remembered the pain I’d felt as I’d moved among the slain in Erce. I trembled to think of bearing the weight of all of the souls of Deor. But didn’t they deserve a ruler who would be willing to take that risk for them? Wouldn’t my father have done it?
“I don’t understand,” Kenway said to Eldred. “What whirlwind?”
“For they have sown the wind, they shall reap the whirlwind. It will all come back on Fyren. He cannot escape his own wickedness.”
I closed my eyes.
“Do not fear, Your Grace.”
My eyes flew open. It startled me to hear Eldred call me that.
“When you stand before him, think of us. Your people. Embrace us. Together, we will see him defeat himself.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“You must hurry.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Kenway held his sword in one hand and Eldred’s dagger in the other. We had taken a secret tunnel underneath the castle and the wall. Now we stood outside the door that would lead us to Fyren.
I wore my mother’s silk dress. In rich green, Eldred had said, nobles and peasants alike would know me as their queen.
The coronation was being held in the Prince’s House, just outside the inner wall. It had three balconies: a single tall one, about thirty feet off the ground, flanked by two shorter ones. Thrice before, I had sat at the queen’s feet while she watched jousting in the lists below.
Festivals were held more frequently during my father’s time. But because of fear for the queen’s life, tournaments were not held often anymore.
Most of the lords and ladies would be on the lower balconies, with Fyren on his throne at the top, close to the edge of the wall, so he could see the tournament and the people could see him crowned.
I remembered that it was a long drop. Only a short wall—perhaps two feet tall—stood between the royal spectators and the ground.
The other door onto the balcony would be heavily guarded. This one Eldred had kept hidden for his own purposes, maybe even for this moment.
Kenway looked noble, despite his dirty, torn tunic. He gripped the rusty sword in one hand and flipped the dagger handle over and over in the other. His look was fierce. We locked eyes.
“Bolt the other door when I attack the guard,” he ordered.
“Yes.”
“Remember what Eldred said to you.”
I remembered what he said, but how could I tell Kenway I thought it a foolhardy plan? It required a faith in others and in my own fate. I didn’t know if I could do what they expected of me. They were so certain. I wanted to have that certainty.
“Trust us, Audrey,” said Kenway, as if he knew my mind.
I was seized by a sudden panic. “You must be careful.”
Fear showed in his eyes, but he was resolute. We both thought he was to die.
“Audrey.”
I stared back at him. Then I realized it was fear for me in his eyes.
“You must be careful,” he told me.
I flicked my eyes to the door, thinking of what might lay behind it, and then back at him.
He shrugged a little, smiling. I did not break my gaze. Not yet, not yet, I thought. Let me look at you.
He gave me a nod. “It is time.” He pushed open the door.
A guard stood not two feet from us, but he did not hear us. The crowd roared and cheered at the riders in the joust. Only one lord and his lady were on the balcony. It was Lord Llewyn, the large man with hands like paws. They stood behind Fyren, who was sitting crownless on my father’s throne. He was not king yet.
A petite woman sat in a smaller chair beside him, with her white hand resting on his shoulder. I could not believe my eyes. It was Fay, the queen’s lady.
Geoff was the only other guard. He was leaning over the side to watch the joust. The rapid thump-thump of the horses’ hooves could be heard as the knights below, lances ready, raced toward each other.
Kenway plunged the dagger into the guard’s back and pulled it back out. I remembered the horror of Eldred being stabbed. The guard screamed as his blood flowed. He gripped his back, arching it, then he crumpled at Kenway’s feet.
Geoff turned when he heard the cry. I ran to bolt the door.
Geoff charged Kenway. Metal clanged against metal as they fought. The ladies skittered back toward the short front wall. Fyren stared at me with surprise. He was frozen in his shock. My father’s murderer. He was used to secret killings.
Lord Llewyn stepped forward when he saw me as if he thought I was someone else. He had never looked at me once when I was Shadow.
Geoff had backed Kenway into a corner. He lunged, but was too slow. Kenway knocked down Geoff’s blade with his sword, then reached in and stabbed him with the dagger. Geoff backed away, his hands on Kenway’s knife, and fell to the stone floor. I reached down and grabbed Geoff’s sword. It felt odd in my hand.
Guards banged on the bolted door.
Fyren slid out a dagger from a leather belt on his ankle, his sword already out. Kenway moved toward him. The ladies tiptoed closer to the edge, staring down. I had never seen Fay look so frightened.
“I’ll kill you, Lord Llewyn, if you interfere,” said Kenway. “I swear it.”
I pointed the sword at the old lord. I wondered if I could kill if I needed to.
He looked at me, his face full of wonder. “This girl looks exactly like our dead Queen Anne.”
“She’s the daughter of Anne and King Alfrid.”
Fyren stared at me, startled. “She is Shadow! She is nothing!”
/> Although he no longer wore a beard, Fyren looked no less sinister. How had I ever thought him kind? He now worked himself between the throne and the short balcony wall. He was not more than two feet from the edge.
The crowd yelled when they saw him. Guards were trying to climb up from the lower balconies, but the walls were too high. They helped one another up.
“She’s the rightful heir, Fyren,” said Kenway. “You did not murder the queen. You poisoned Kendra’s child, who had been switched with Audrey for her protection.”
I looked at Fay. She had a hand in it somehow. She gave me that sly smile. She thought Fyren was going to triumph here.
With a strong kick, Kenway knocked over the throne. Fyren dodged it.
Fyren leaped forward. His blade sliced the air just in front of Kenway’s face. Kenway jumped back. Down came Fyren’s sword again, but Kenway met it with his own. The blades slid off each other.
“You’re a coward, Kenway, just like your father,” yelled Fyren, his voice carrying down to the lords and ladies on the balcony below. “I always thought it was Lord Leofwine who murdered our great king.” He spread his hands out, leaving himself vulnerable, as if he doubted Kenway’s skill. “And now his son tries to kill me. Your family must covet the crown for itself.”
Kenway lunged toward Fyren, his sword extended. Fyren brought his own down upon it.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
It was as if their swords were in a fierce dance.
They were close to the wall now, Fyren near the edge.
Kenway was breathing hard. His left shoulder drooped as he fought. His wound had not yet healed. Fyren must have seen it. He feinted. Kenway moved in the wrong direction. Fyren stabbed him in his old wound.
“No!” I screamed.
Kenway groaned and dropped his sword. I ran toward him, but Fyren came at me. I put up my sword, ready to fight, and heard laughter from down below.
Fyren smirked. “You always were a clever girl, Shadow, but you have overreached.”
Kenway was holding his arm. He tried to stand.
“You do look like your mother,” Fyren said in a low voice. “I’m surprised I never saw it. She never trusted me, that witch.” He looked at me almost tenderly. “You liked me, though. As your father did. You should have seen his eyes when I killed him.”