Winterkeep

by Kristin Cashore

  “Come on,” she said. “Just come with me.”

  With a ragged breath, he followed.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Leading Pari home was a little like trying to take a walk with an oversexed dog. He kept slowing their progress by stopping Lovisa, groping her.

  “Won’t your guards rat on you to your parents?” he said during one of these interludes. “Maybe we should do it here in the trees.”

  It wasn’t time yet to break it to Pari that they’d be sidestepping the guards by climbing a wall, then a tree, then a trellis, then entering through a third-story window.

  “I have a way around the guards,” she said. “An arrangement.”

  “An arrangement with your guards? What kind?” he demanded, then smirked. “That kind?”

  “Don’t be disgusting. It’s not an arrangement with the guards.”

  “It is that kind of arrangement,” he said. “You’ll have sex with anything, won’t you?”

  “What’s that say about you, if it’s true?”

  “Whatever,” he said. “Why shouldn’t I benefit, if others do?”

  It was easy to justify using him, when he talked like that. Maybe she should choose someone like him from now on. Snow was falling and the cold made Lovisa jumpy. When he grabbed her and pushed her against a stone wall, her heart began to hammer. The wall bruising her was the wall of the Devret estate, which meant they were getting close to her house. And he was grabbing her hard, manhandling her as he hadn’t before. She couldn’t push him off. It hurt.

  “Let me go,” she said.

  He shoved her harder, pressing down on her shoulders. “Get down,” he said.

  “I won’t,” she said, beginning to panic, but making herself sound disgusted and brave. “Don’t think I won’t turn you in if you make me.”

  “No one would believe you.”

  “You think my mother and father won’t believe me when I show them bruises on my back from you shoving me against the Devrets’ wall?”

  “No one even knows I’m here. You can’t prove it was me.”

  “I told Mari I was bringing you here,” she lied. “You know he’d defend me before he ever defended you.”

  Pari suddenly laughed. He released her. “Fine,” he said. “This had better be one good screw.”

  * * *

  —

  Pari’s complaints struck a new tone, furious and mean, when they got to the Cavenda wall and he understood Lovisa’s plan for entering the house through a high window.

  New criterion, Lovisa thought to herself. Someone less pushy, and scary, and whiny, and horrible. “Just get over the wall, Pari,” she said, beginning to wonder how she was going to hold him off once they were in the house. All this, just to figure out what her father was storing in that room? It had better be worth it. “Your screw is on the other side of the wall.”

  The pokey rocks were slippery in a snowfall, especially for someone unused to them, like Pari. By the time he landed on the other side, he had mud streaks on his coat and scrapes on his hands. “We could just do it here,” he said, with a tone in his voice that said something else too. That he was done with patience, and they would do it here.

  Electrified with a refusal to lose control over this situation, Lovisa set out quickly across the grounds and around the house, hoping he would follow, and then, when she heard his footsteps behind her, feeling chased. At the tree that led to the trellis, she reached one foot to a knot and, with all her speed, began to climb. She’d dressed for this, with her dark coat and with narrow skirts that were actually divided into pants.

  Pari was in the tree now too, climbing slowly, swearing. Lovisa reached the trellis while he was still fumbling through low branches. As she climbed it to the window, it occurred to her for the first time that the trellis might not hold Pari’s weight. It was designed for holding ivy, after all, not humans, and he was a lot bigger than she was.

  Now Lovisa had an image stuck in her head: Pari lying on the lawn with a broken neck. He probably deserved it. But her life, if it happened, would become a disaster.

  Moving as quickly as she could, she climbed back into the tree and scurried partway down. “Pari,” she whispered. “The trellis might not hold your weight. Be careful when you get to that part.”

  All at once, Pari’s frustrated noises transformed into laughter again. The laughter became hysterical.

  “Shh!” whispered Lovisa, alarmed. “The guards!”

  “Lovisa,” he said. “Admit it: This is an elaborate prank. Right? Look at me. I’m stuck in a tree outside your house in the snow, with a deathtrap of a trellis above me. I don’t even want to have sex with you anymore.”

  “I’m insulted,” said Lovisa, matching his tone. “I planned such a nice night for us.”

  “You’re a piece of work,” he said, with a fondness in his voice that swung her sharply into a kind of guilt. I still don’t like him, she reminded herself. And he could still hurt me.

  “Come on. It’ll be fun,” she said, pretending to mean it, then scuttling up the tree to the trellis again. The window with the broken lock opened easily. With a small burst of pride, Lovisa climbed into the dark, empty bedroom.

  While Pari continued to heave himself from branch to branch below, she tiptoed across the room to the desk. Pulling the drawers out, she fumbled for anything that could be used as a weapon. Her fingers closed on something long and sharp—a letter opener.

  She returned to the window just as Pari climbed in. Fell in, really. He landed on the bedroom floor, then rolled onto his back. It was dark enough that she wasn’t sure how to read him, until she heard him chuckling.

  “What’s next?” he said. “I assume we’re in an isolated room with a big bed and fluffy pillows, but you want us to do this somewhere more challenging? Maybe on the ridgepole of the roof?”

  “We only have to climb a few stairs,” she said, relieved to find him less aggressive.

  “I can hear you smiling,” he said. “These stairs are guarded by bears.”

  “Get up,” she said, “and take my hand.”

  Pari got up and took more than her hand. He kissed her, pressed against her, still laughing a little, his nose cold but his mouth warm and soft. For the sake of encouraging him, Lovisa held the letter opener out of his reach and kissed him back. It began to feel good, which made her unhappy. She wasn’t going to do this again. She was too torn between the confusion of physically wanting someone who was awful; manipulating someone, yet feeling guilty about it; controlling someone, yet sensing that her control could spiral away at any moment he chose, because he was stronger, and volatile.

  “Come on,” she whispered. Feeling forward with her letter-opener hand, she led him out of the room.

  * * *

  —

  They passed no guards and, considering that most of their route was pitch-dark, made very little noise. Lovisa picked up a lamp from a table. “You carry that,” she whispered to Pari, passing it to him.

  “I don’t suppose you’d consider lighting the stupid thing?” he whispered back.

  “Soon,” she said.

  They reached the door to the attic stairs, which creaked as it opened. Climbing the stairs and passing through the second door, they stepped into the cavernous attic, made of darkness and shadows. Lovisa closed the door behind them and felt safer suddenly, hidden from the rest of the house.

  “We’re almost there,” she said, tugging at the string around her neck that held the key. He crossed the floor with her, his breath quickening audibly. Lovisa reached out and felt for the door to the little room, finding the keyhole, while Pari pressed against her and gave his hands free rein. His hands were everywhere on her body. No, not everywhere, for he still hadn’t discovered the letter opener. A boy in the dark doesn’t care about my hands. I can hide things in my hands, she thought, filing it away
for later, even though she was never going to do this again.

  The lock clicked. “Okay, Pari,” she said, “you just wait out here for a second while I get the room ready.”

  “I’m sure it’s ready.”

  “Sometimes my brothers have sleepovers in this room,” she said. “You want them to see us like this? Let me make sure it’s empty and safe. Here, hand me that lamp.”

  He shoved the lamp at her. “Be quick.”

  “How about you count to a hundred? Okay? Think how good it’ll feel after you count to a hundred.” She kissed him, then started counting, slowly. “One, two . . .”

  While he gritted his teeth and counted, she disentangled herself, pushed into the room, shut the door quickly, found the keyhole, and locked it closed from the inside.

  “Hey!” she heard him yell. “You’re going to let me in, right?”

  “Of course!” she said. “Be quiet! The guards will hear!”

  Then a voice spoke inside the room, soft and vague, as if its speaker were half-asleep.

  “Hello?” it said, in Lingian. “Giddon?”

  Lovisa stood frozen. She felt as if her head were swelling up like a balloon. “Hello?” she responded in Lingian, not even knowing what she was saying.

  “Who’s there?” the voice said, stronger now, more alert, switching into Keepish. “Hello?”

  The room was as dark as all the punishments Lovisa remembered from her childhood, and it smelled the same too, cold and thick, like a chamber pot. Shaking, she crouched down to set the lamp on the floor, so she could light it.

  A spark. Lovisa raised the unsteady, growing flame.

  A young woman in a bed looked back at Lovisa. She was small like Lovisa, dark-haired and plain like Lovisa, with big, wary eyes and a stubborn, determined set to her mouth. Her skin was browner than Hava’s or Giddon’s, but paler than Lovisa’s. She looked like . . . she looked like the Lienid prince who’d had the Graceling boyfriend. Prince Skye.

  “Who are you?” the woman demanded of Lovisa, in nearly unaccented Keepish. She glared, expecting an answer. Lovisa stared back, unbreathing, unbelieving, because this could only be one person, imprisoned here in her family’s attic.

  “Have you come to help me escape?” the woman asked, pushing her blankets back and swinging her feet to the ground, standing, facing Lovisa. She was Lovisa’s same height and she was wearing one of Lovisa’s favorite pairs of pajamas.

  Staring at this vision, Lovisa understood a number of things at once. Why her mother had left class early the day the Monseans had arrived, then been late for an important dinner. Why her parents were fighting, because of course Benni would never stand for this. Why it no longer mattered what her father had been planning to store in this room. How serious this was, for this was a capital crime. It was the kind of crime that could start a war.

  She also understood that now she, Lovisa, was responsible for the Queen of Monsea. And she couldn’t help this queen escape, because Pari Parnin was waiting outside the door. She couldn’t help this queen escape, because, where would she take her? She couldn’t help this queen escape, because her family would be ruined. Her parents imprisoned, maybe even executed, their wealth confiscated by the Keepish government, and Lovisa’s name, her brothers’ names, infamous, synonymous with scandal and shame, not just in Winterkeep but across Torla, and on the Royal Continent too.

  My mother ruined our lives, she thought.

  “Well?” said Queen Bitterblue. “Are you freeing me?”

  Lovisa needed a plan. “Yes,” she said, improvising. “But not right now.”

  “When?” said the queen, stepping forward. “Where am I? Who are you?”

  Pari Parnin knocked on the door. His voice was a whine. “Let me in, Lovisa.”

  “Who’s that?” said the queen sharply.

  “I’ll get rid of him,” said Lovisa, moving toward the door. “Then I’ll come back.”

  “Will you?” said the queen, following her. Then she said, in a voice that was certain, and more imposing than the tiny person who spoke it, “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Stricken with confusion, Lovisa spun back to her. “Please,” she said, a bit wildly. “Don’t tell my mother I saw you.”

  “Your mother!” said the queen. “Who is your mother?”

  “I’ll come back,” Lovisa lied, “but don’t tell anyone.”

  “Is this a private home?” asked the queen. “Am I in Ledra?”

  “I’ll explain everything later.”

  “Are you allied with the fox?”

  “What? No! Of course not! He’s bonded to my mother!”

  “But you’re allied with me?”

  “Yes. I’ll come back for you!”

  Queen Bitterblue stared into Lovisa’s face fiercely, not believing her. Lovisa knew it, and was ashamed. “Take this,” she said desperately, shoving the letter opener into the queen’s hands, as a sort of bribe. Then she rushed to the door, turned the key, pulled the latch. The queen followed, standing close. On the other side of the door, Pari pushed.

  “Wait!” cried Lovisa. “I’m coming out.”

  Pari thrust the door so sharply that Lovisa stumbled and almost dropped the lamp. Pari surged into the room with a grunt of frustration. Then he stared wide-eyed at the queen, who stood before him in bare feet and pajamas, brandishing a letter opener.

  “Who are you?” he asked in bewilderment.

  “No one,” said Lovisa quickly. “A cousin from the north. We’re disturbing her. Let’s go to my bedroom, Pari.”

  “She doesn’t look like a northerner,” said Pari, in the same moment footsteps sounded outside the door. A young woman, that guard who hated Lovisa, pushed into the room.

  Ferla stepped in behind her.

  * * *

  —

  Lovisa’s mind spun frantically.

  “Who is that girl, Mother?” she said, in the blankest voice she could muster. “Why is she here?”

  Ferla only stared at Pari with an expression more agitated, more crazed than Lovisa could ever remember seeing; and desperate too. And something else. Ferla looked sorry.

  “Lovisa, give me that lamp and go wait in your father’s library,” she said.

  “Mother?” said Lovisa. “I just came here with Pari Parnin, for some privacy. You said I could sleep with whatever academy student I wanted.”

  Ferla’s fox was zipping around the room without pause, like he’d gone haywire. “Give me that lamp, then go to your father’s library, right now, Lovisa,” Ferla said, her voice so strange, almost a cry. Lovisa relinquished the lamp, then spun to the doorway, not understanding the emotion in her mother’s voice. Pari turned to follow her.

  “Pari,” Ferla said in that same voice, “you stay here.”

  “Mother?” said Lovisa, in sudden anxiety. Then that guard shoved her through the door and slammed it shut behind her. Lovisa was left alone, in darkness.

  Think, she told herself, numb, stupid, not understanding what was going on. Moving away from the door into the darker depths of the room, she sat against a far wall, where she wouldn’t be seen. Wrapping her arms around her legs, shivering hard, she tried to comprehend this, but her brain was shutting down, turning her thoughts to cement.

  The door opened suddenly. That guard came rushing out, shut the door, moved quickly to the stairs, and started down, in the dark.

  After a moment, Lovisa crept after the guard, keeping her distance. She followed the guard along the lower corridor carefully, staying in the shadows, pausing at each corner to give the woman time to create some distance between them. When the guard began to approach one of the main staircases, Lovisa had to stop, because lamps lit this part of the house and she knew she would be seen; but before giving up, she did manage to overhear a conversation between the guard and someone else, presumably another guard
. The first guard ordered the second guard to run to the Keep and summon Benni, for Ferla desired his presence, immediately. “It’s an emergency,” the guard said.

  Quickly, Lovisa turned and ran back to the attic. Creeping up the stairs again, feeling her way to the far wall, she tucked herself into her corner, under one of the huge, sloping windows. Snowflakes tapped against the glass.

  The guard returned, this time with a blanket slung over one shoulder and a steaming drink in one hand. She knocked on the door and was allowed inside. Briefly, Lovisa heard Ferla’s harsh voice, and the queen responding. Pari saying something next, in a whiny, confused voice. Then the guard shut the door.

  For a long time, nothing. Silence, interrupted only by the scrape of snowflakes on glass and the occasional push of wind. Cold radiated from the windows. Lovisa was glad for her fur coat. Gladder still that her father was coming, for certainly sense would return when he arrived, wouldn’t it? None of this could be real, none of it could be so terrible, once Benni had arrived. Pari would come out. Her father would explain, and the explanation would make sense.

  Finally, footsteps, hard and fast, and Benni came running up the stairs. Lovisa had never seen her father run, ever. He crossed the room and pounded on the door. When it opened, Lovisa heard Pari’s voice, high-pitched. Then Benni went in and the door slammed. She heard his voice, urgently raised, but couldn’t make out his words. Then she thought she heard her mother screaming back, in fury. She thought she heard the word “No!”

  Lovisa’s mind was still stupid and slow. She focused on the story she would tell her parents: She was in love with Pari Parnin. What was wrong with that? He was rich, from a good, Ledra family. She’d brought him up here because it was the most private place she could think of. She had no idea who the girl in the room was. A guest, maybe? Sleeping up here because she was ill, perhaps? In quarantine?

  Lovisa grasped her hair, knowing, even in her numb state, that her parents wouldn’t believe any part of that story.