by C. J. Archer
Lord Barborough cleared his throat. "His Majesty is engaged on state business this evening, however he has instructed me to obtain the gem from you. Tomorrow you will be presented to him in a private audience and he will tell you what he wants you to wish for on his behalf. So. Where is the gem? Who has the wishes?"
"We don't have the gem with us," Dane said.
"Then take me to it. Is it with your friends?"
"We lost it."
Lord Barborough cocked his head to the side. "Pardon?"
"It's lost. We don't know where it is."
"You promised it when you didn't have it?" Lord Barborough barked at me.
"Josie did have it then, but it has since gone missing," Dane said simply.
"You're lying!" Lord Barborough beckoned the guards standing at the door. "Seize them!"
"No!" the princess snapped. "Stand down."
The guards obeyed.
Lord Barborough rounded on her, his body heaving with his hard, ragged breaths. "Your highness, do not believe them! Either they have it and are lying about losing it, or they never had it. Either way, you cannot let them get away! The king kept his end of the bargain. If they cannot keep theirs, the king has no choice but to send the captain back to prison to await execution."
Princess Illiriya's nostrils flared. Her good mood of earlier was nowhere in sight as a mask of imperial authority descended over her. The steely calm sent a shiver through me. We were utterly at her mercy, and I wasn't entirely sure she possessed any.
I dropped to my knees in front of her. "Please don't send him back to prison, Your Highness. I did have it when I made the bargain, I swear to you, but it was stolen from its hiding place soon after. I should have told you, but I wanted Dane to be freed. I wanted it desperately. Please do not punish him for something that's my fault."
"Josie," Dane warned.
I ignored him and looked up at the princess, staring down her nose at me. Her narrowed gaze drilled into me. I clasped my hands together and was about to beg again when Lord Barborough grabbed me by my hair, wrenching my head back.
"Liar," he snarled, his face an inch from mine.
Dane stepped forward and punched Barborough in the jaw, sending him careening backwards. He fell to the floor with a thud.
Lord Barborough rubbed his jaw and licked his lip, testing for blood. "Arrest him!"
"No!" The princess's order kept her guards back. "That's enough, my lord. You've had your say."
Dane helped me to my feet. I could feel his vibrating anger through the hand he placed at my back. His glare drilled into Lord Barborough, who picked himself up off the floor.
"The king wants the wish he was promised, Highness," Lord Barborough said. "If they cannot fulfill their end of the bargain, the bargain is off. It's what your father—"
"Do not tell me what my own father would want. I know him better than anyone, and I can assure you he doesn't think people should die for magic."
"B—but Your Highness! This is a gross betrayal! Should we not check with him?"
"The king is busy."
"In the morning then."
She paused before giving a shallow nod. She indicated the door. "Please leave us now, my lord."
Lord Barborough bristled, his brow deeply furrowed. I thought he would challenge her order, but he wilted beneath her scowl. "Until tomorrow," he said, bowing.
She watched him retreat. Once the guard shut the door behind him, she let out a breath. She must have been holding it for some time because she seemed to weaken a little.
"I never liked him very much," she said. "My father foisted Barborough upon me when he returned from Glancia, hoping I could make sense of everything he claimed. I admit, his claims about magic were fantastical, but I did come to believe. It took my father much longer, unfortunately."
"We're grateful you managed to convince him in the end." Dane watched her through his lashes. "And grateful for this delay."
"I understand the situation completely," she said quietly. Too quietly for the guards to hear. Her smile turned wistful. "I would have lied about having it too, to get you out."
Neither Dane nor I spoke. I didn't dare, lest she change her mind and order the guards to arrest us. We were so close to freedom that I could smell the fresh air of the countryside, yet I was well aware that it all rested on the benevolence of this woman.
The princess turned a grim smile onto me. "I cannot be angry with you for promising a wish to save his life, Josie, but my father will not be so forgiving, no matter what I just said to Lord Barborough. He won't believe your story that it went missing after you made that promise."
"Why are you risking your father's wrath for us?" Dane asked.
"That is a complicated question with more than one answer, but suffice it to say that my father's plan for my future does not align with my own. Perhaps his plan will come to fruition anyway, but with a magical wish, it will be guaranteed. I'd rather see events play out in a more natural way. At least then I know the outcome was meant to be."
I wasn't sure I believed fate—or the god and goddess—had our best interests at heart when shaping the future, but now wasn't the time for a philosophical or theological discussion. She had just admitted to treason. Not that her father would punish her the way he would punish a traitor, but it was a monumentally risky thing to say to two people she hardly knew.
So why did she? Why admit that she'd never really wanted her father to have the wish but knew promising it to him was the only way to set Dane free? It made sense that she didn't want her father to sit on the Glancian throne for the simple reason that it upset the power balance of The Fist Peninsula. It limited whom she could marry and would perhaps see her having to search in far-off lands for a suitable husband. But why admit that to us?
Dane eyed her with that careful, assessing way of his. Usually, he summed people up quickly, but I suspected the princess was proving difficult to put into a labeled casket. "The high priest of Glancia believes your father is telling the two Glancian dukes they have more supporters than they realize in the hope it will start a war between them before they're ready."
"I've never met him, but I believe your high priest is very astute," she said.
"I'm surprised you haven't met him," I said. "He's here in the city. We just saw him outside the prison."
"Which duke does he support?"
"No one, publicly," Dane said. He did not add that the high priest privately supported Buxton.
"He should make his opinion known," she said, not caring that he hadn't answered her. "Such a well-respected man will make people stand up and notice. It might help the Glancian nobles decide which duke to favor. Speaking of Glancian nobles, I met one recently," she said. "Lord Xavier Deerhorn. Do you know him from your days at the palace?"
"Never trust a Deerhorn," Dane warned.
She laughed, but it quickly withered when she saw his stern expression. "I'll keep that in mind."
"The Deerhorns are a power-hungry family, and Xavier is cruel. Never be alone with him, Your Highness."
She frowned. "Thank you for the warning. He petitioned my father a few days ago, asking for support for the duke of Gladstow."
"Considering your father's own plans for the throne, I'm surprised Gladstow is bothering."
"So am I."
"Perhaps Lord Xavier needed an excuse to be here," I said to Dane.
He nodded, understanding my meaning. Lord Xavier had been here to chase us and get the gem for himself. He had to make it look as though he was working on behalf of Gladstow or the duke wouldn't have liked his ally entering enemy territory.
"Be careful, Your Highness," Dane said again. "These are dangerous times."
She smiled. "You are kind to worry about me, but there's no need. I am well versed in the ways of powerful men. Very few can get the better of me."
Dane conceded the point with a bow. "I can believe it."
"For a palace guard, you are quite well versed in the ways of kings and duke
s yourself."
"I learned a lot in my days at the palace."
"More than you would want, perhaps."
Dane laughed lightly. "Sometimes."
She grinned, but it was fleeting. She glanced at the door. "We've spoken long enough. Your situation is still perilous. I am sorry to do this to you, but you're going to have to leave the city immediately. Don't return to the inn, don't collect your things or your friends. I don't trust Barborough. While I don't think he'll dare interrupt my father while he hosts friends tonight, he might take matters into his own hands. Please make haste and be careful."
I curtseyed deeply. This woman surprised me at every turn. She was helping us at great personal cost to herself. Her father would be furious with her when Barborough told him she let us go.
She touched my shoulder. "Have courage, Josie. You're going to need it. And please, keep him safe. I suspect this won't be the last time he gets himself into trouble defending a friend."
I looked up from my curtsey to see her smiling at Dane, her eyes sparkling. She put out her hand to him and he took it and kissed it.
"Thank you, Your Highness," he said levelly. "For everything."
I looked away, too aware of the tightness in my chest.
Dane's hand slipped inside mine. I wrapped my fingers around his and offered him a weak smile that he returned. I wouldn't let jealousy ruin what we had. Whatever that was.
Guards escorted us outside and I jumped at every footfall, every movement. I expected Lord Barborough to appear at any moment and order our arrest.
But nothing happened. We left the castle, passing through each gate unhindered. Even so, when we reached the street, I was happy to run alongside Dane. I couldn't get away from the castle fast enough.
Night had fallen while we were talking to the princess, and the streets looked different with only the occasional welcoming torch flickering at the entrances of taverns. We retraced our steps back to the prison courtyard, now deserted of its bloodthirsty audience. I turned away from the hulking frame of the gallows with a shiver and led the way to the public stables where our friends waited.
Everything inside me remained taut with my heightened sense of awareness for my surroundings. Even here, I expected the king's guards to suddenly appear and arrest us. Or perhaps Lord Barborough would take the risk of delaying us himself, without his king's permission. He was desperate to get his hands on the gem and wishes, enough to take matters into his own hands.
It was this alertness that had me stopping suddenly when the whine of a sword being unsheathed rent the air. Dane heard it too and whipped out his blade. He turned in a slow circle, listening, searching the shadows.
But it was when his back was turned that the attacker made his move. Like all experienced predators, he went for the weakest first.
Me.
Chapter 8
The attacker’s cloak billowed, and like a bird of prey, he swooped in from the shadows. I barely had time to gasp, but it was all the time I needed to pull out the knife from my pocket when my hand was already clutching it.
I struck upward as I dodged to the side, catching the attacker on the underside of his jaw. He hissed in pain and his sword clanged onto the pavement. Dane finished him off then immediately set himself up for another attack.
It didn't come.
I rolled the cloaked figure over with my boot but didn't recognize him and he wore no identifying livery.
Dane took my hand and we ran. No one followed, but it wasn't until we were almost at the stables that I dared slow down a little and speak.
"How did he know we would come back to the prison courtyard?"
"He might have followed us from the castle," Dane bit off. "I should have been more aware of my surroundings."
"Dane! Josie!" Quentin sprang out of the shadows and threw his arms around Dane then did the same to me. "I'm so glad you're all right."
"There's no time for that now," Dane told him. "Where are the stables?"
Quentin led the way and we received the same enthusiastic greeting from the others in the stable yard. I was just as relieved to see them as they were to see us. It wasn't simply the fact that it was safer in a larger group; it was the fact that I couldn't imagine going anywhere without them. They'd become my family, as important to me as my parents had been. It wouldn't be right leaving them here while we fled the city, as the princess had suggested.
Balthazar was the last to accept our hugs. He embraced me with more ferocity than I thought his old bones capable of. "We were worried you would never leave the castle," he murmured in my ear.
"So were we." My gaze sought out Dane, now issuing instructions to Max, Erik and Quentin while the others listened. "We have to continue with our plan to leave. We'll explain on the way. Are you capable of riding swiftly at night?"
"I am if you are."
The saddlebags were packed and the horses ready for our immediate departure. We rode through the city streets at a steady pace without incident. Even so, I felt as though I couldn't breathe until Merrin Fahl was behind us.
With the moonlit road ahead clear, we were able to ride until we reached a forest sometime in the middle of the night. We did not light a fire or erect tents, but ate rations we'd brought with us and slept on the ground.
We were too tired to talk until the following morning as we ate cold meat for breakfast at dawn and pored over the map.
Balthazar tapped his finger on the peaks known as The Razorbacks. "We can't go that way. It's too dangerous."
One branch of the mountain range separated Vytill's southern border from Freedland's north-east, while another branch cut through Freedland. Each branch had a single pass through it. While the Razorbacks weren't as high as Widowmaker Peaks, they were much steeper.
"The route via the two passes is rarely used," Balthazar said. "My research tells me that most trade enters Freedland via the Upway River, crosses Lake Torment, then travels to Noxford via Blood River. It's too treacherous and difficult to get through the Razorbacks. We'll go the safer way too, by horse instead of boat. We'll skirt Lake Torment then follow Blood River into the capital, Noxford."
Kitty made a sound of horror. She, Quentin and Meg were packing our things rather than inspecting the map. "Lake Torment, Blood River…it doesn't sound less treacherous to me."
"Who named these places?" Quentin asked.
"The revolutionaries," I said. "The names were changed after they won the Freedland civil war."
"Just because they're revolutionaries, doesn't mean they couldn't have chosen nicer names."
Dane pointed at Merdu's Pass then Hailia's Pass, the two crossings through the two branches of The Razorbacks. "We have to go this way. It'll be fine."
Balthazar arched his brows. "How do you know?"
"The route you pointed out is the best route for trade. We're not merchants and we don't have goods to bring into Freedland."
"We have a packhorse," Quentin pointed out.
"The packhorse can traverse through the passes. It'll be cold, some sections may be difficult, but there's a village on the coast between the two branches of the Razorbacks where we can restock our supplies." He indicated Priest's End, a mere speck on the map on the outcrop known as East Knuckle. It was the only speck between the two branches.
"Is it necessary to take the difficult route?" Theodore asked. "No one seems to have followed us. The princess must have believed your story about the gem being stolen."
Dane and I exchanged glances. We'd been in such a hurry to leave the night before, we hadn't told them about the attack.
"It's not the princess we have to worry about," I said. "The greater threat comes from Barborough, either working alone or on behalf of the king, or Lord Xavier and Brant. One of them hired an assassin to try to stop us reaching you last night."
Kitty gasped, and Meg stopped what she was doing to scowl at me, perhaps for not informing them earlier. Not that it would have made a difference. We had moved as quickly as we could.
"It's decided," Max said with an emphatic nod. "The captain has made his decision. We travel through the mountains."
"I'm no longer your captain. You're free to debate with me or disregard my orders—my suggestions—altogether, if you wish."
Max's grunt held a hint of humor. "Prison changed you."
Dane laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. There were no more discussions about disregarding orders or taking the easier route into Freedland. We would head for the Razorbacks.
We set off at a good clip through the forest, but not as fast as the previous night. Kitty rode up alongside me and indicated I should fall back a little with her to where Erik and Quentin brought up the rear of our little group.
"Josie, can you ask Dane if we can hire a wagon in the next village?" she said.
"Why can't you ask him?"
"Because he'll dismiss it immediately if it comes from me. But if you suggest it, there'll be more chance he'll agree."
"I doubt it."
"We all know he'll do anything for you."
"Not if it's a bad idea, which getting a wagon is. We don't know if we can even take one through the passes. Besides, we have everything we need. A wagon is unnecessary."
"For you perhaps. I'm unused to sleeping on the ground." She scratched her head. "I lay awake last night imagining things crawling into my hair and making a nest."
I kept my gaze studiously on her face, not her hair where two dried leaves poked out of her ragged blonde locks. She hadn't bothered trying to brush it that morning and it looked like an inviting place for a creature to make its home.
"Tell him it's for Balthazar," she whispered.
"I heard that," Balthazar said from where he rode just ahead of us. "Don't use me as your excuse, Kitty."
Kitty sighed. "I miss being a duchess."
"Do not be sad, my duchess," Erik said cheerfully. "I will worship you later."
A secretive smile touched her lips only to quickly fade. "Not without a covered wagon."