Just as Catriona predicted, a couple hours later we’ve reached the edge of the trees. Blackpool’s shops and houses are in sight, dark boxes set against the foggy, moonlit night.
We pause for a moment to take in the scene. We’re about to get moving again when Catriona halts us. She’s listening, sniffing the air. “I think we should go around, stick to the outskirts. Just in case.” I agree, and we turn the horses to the right, toward the bordering fields.
I guide Pearl slowly, trying to minimize the sound of her hooves and my gear jangling in the silent night. We are still in view of the windows on the back sides of buildings; each one is black, not a single candle lit. To our right are fields and gardens, fog hovering over the crops. I shudder at the eeriness of it.
Blackpool is very small, and it takes us only minutes to reach the last buildings. Without warning, there is a noise from a small shed to our left. I stop. Catriona and Tui position their horses, one on either side of me.
I look around frantically. There’s a fence to our right now, too high for Pearl to jump. We can only go backward or forward from here. There’s no other way out of this.
I give Pearl a small nudge with my heel, and she takes a single step forward. As soon as she does, that’s when the man jumps out of the shed and runs in front of us. He’s wielding a scythe and a sneer. “Paul! Bruce! Get out here! I’ve caught some.” The man stops before me, planting his legs apart. He puts his hand on his hips, his scythe sticking out to the side menacingly. A piece of moonlight filters through the fog, and the metal shines in the light. The man is short and squat, with greasy black hair.
“Let us pass,” I demand. “We’re not here to cause any trouble.”
Two taller men—both carrying large knives—come running from the shed. They plant themselves next to the squat man, one of them stifling a yawn.
“Then what are you doing, passing through here in the dead of night?” The squat man asks.
Catriona answers him. “We’ve got a long way to go. We needed to get an early start.”
The three men laugh at her, slapping each other on the back. “And what about you, sir, are you going to let these girls answer for you?”
Tui doesn’t flinch. “I think they can answer for me just fine. Thank you.”
More sneering laughter. “Maybe they can answer this, then,” the squat man says. “Where are you all going? ’Tis not often we get such lovely visitors.” He reaches a grimy hand out to touch Pearl’s nose. I can tell she’s about to nip him. I tug her head back, right in the nick of time.
“I don’t recommend that.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Oh, but I think it is, miss. You’re trespassing.”
“How’s that? We simply didn’t want to wake anyone as we passed. So we rode out here, on the outskirts.” My heart is quickly speeding up. The man’s voice is growing louder in volume. Surely he’s going to wake somebody else up. I’ve got to defuse this situation, and fast.
But that doesn’t seem to be. One of the other men, Paul or Bruce, points at Fortissima. “Lookie at that, boss. Lady’s sure got quite a sword on her.”
I don’t move, not a muscle. The squat man peers over at my sword, then takes a step back. “Who are you?” he asks.
Suddenly I can’t breathe. I can’t decide. Do I tell them who I really am? Whose side are they on anyway? That’s all I need to know.
“Who are you loyal to?” I ask, looking at each of them in turn. Together they take another step back. I see their fists clench tighter around their weapons.
“Araroa. His Majesty King Araroa,” the squat man says. “What about you?”
“I’m loyal to no one. Now let us pass.”
The squat man takes a step forward, starts to raise his scythe. That’s when the screeching starts.
Chapter 20
Leif
My head is pounding so hard I almost can’t smell how awful it is down here. Almost.
Raven never told me what it was like when she was in Araroa’s dungeon. I asked her, several times, but she refused to talk about it. The only thing she’d tell me was how happy she was when she finally got out.
I have a lot of time to think about how I got here in the first place. Stupid. So, so stupid. I should never have run with Hannah. It was pure whim, no planning at all. Turns out, there were more Hunters out patrolling in the desert, and they saw us running. Why, oh why, did I assume we were in the clear? I should have been patient. Fully scoped out the area. I could have taken Hannah with us on our return to the Bastion. I could have made something up: that the King wanted her back for more serious charges or she was wanted for questioning. Anything would have worked better than our stupid attempt of running into the dark, right into the hands of the Hunters who knew we were up to no good. Especially since they recognized me straight away. They beat us, dragged us back to the Bastion, and threw us down here.
I’ve been left to rot and starve. My stomach gurgles, wringing itself into knots with hunger. I wish they’d bring me another piece of hard biscuit. Disgusting, but it’s something. Even so, my hunger is not enough to drown out the phrase cycling through my head on endless repeat: I never should have listened to Hannah.
I sleep. A lot. Sometimes the screams wake me and I have to cover my ears, but that only muffles the terror slightly. I remember now something Raven said in her sleep: Make it stop! The screaming! Stop it! Please! Sometimes she’d wake up from these nightmares, but she wouldn’t tell me what they were about. Now, I know she didn’t want to relive it with the telling.
Footsteps on the cold stones. I huddle in the corner, frozen. I hope they are not coming back for me. No such luck.
My cell door swings open, the screech from rusty hinges pierces my ears. Two Hunters force me to stand, but my legs are jelly. I can barely see them through the stars and blood in my eye. Their words come at me, like I’m underwater and they are shouting something at me from the surface.
Tell us where Raven Araroa is.
I refuse to speak, as usual. More words strike at me. Then fists. I shake my head. More threats. But I will not tell them where she is.
The lashes are given. One … two … three … twenty. I drop to the floor, pooling like the blood on my shirt, and they leave. Until the next time.
When they’re gone, I picture where I hope Raven is. Back with her family in Baldachin. I try to count the days since she left, but I have no idea how long it’s been. Day and night are the exact same down here. It could be one. Or thirty. Too many, is all I know.
Baldachin. I’ve been through there one time, with Papa. I was only six or seven, but I remember looking up into the trees, at the little walkways and homes. So peaceful and idyllic. I watched the kids swing through the branches like the monkeys do on Nuimana. I wonder if I saw Raven then, her long black hair swishing behind her as she climbed the branches. I spend a lot of hours watching her grow up in my mind’s eye. Anything to distract me from my current reality.
The door clangs open, startling me awake. A cloak flies through the air, hitting me on the side of the head. “Put this on,” the Hunter says. A second one waits outside the cell door. The cloak is dark blue. Worn, but I can see it’s Queen Seraphine’s color. I wrap it around me, but the shivering still does not subside.
“Get up.”
I don’t know where they are taking me, but since it’s out of here, I don’t hesitate.
My legs hardly work anymore. The cuts on my back burn as the dried blood-soaked fabric starts to peel away. But we’re going up spiral stairs, up into the Palace. The air clears. I take deep gulps of the fresh breeze blowing down the staircase from windows cut in the stone. I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for days.
“Where are you taking me?”
Silence, now, from the Hunters. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
They lead me into a long hall decorated with violet and gold. Ridiculously op
ulent. So different from how everybody else lives in the Bastion outside. We approach the end, the doors swing open, and there he is, sitting on his velvet throne: King Araroa himself.
A young boy is seated near the throne, on a chair almost as opulent as the one his father is on. I bite my mouth to keep from smiling; now I know what Raven looked like when she was eight. The boy has the same black hair, not quite as long, tied back in a gold ribbon. But it’s his eyes that give his parentage away: piercing ice blue the very same as Raven’s and her Queen mother’s.
Of course I’ve seen the King, many times, speaking to us in the Bastion. But it’s like I’m seeing him all anew. I’m relieved to realize Raven looks nothing like him.
“Hello, Leif Phineas.” Araroa emphasizes my last name. To let me know he knows exactly who I am. I don’t answer. “My men tell me you’ve not been cooperating. All I ask is you tell me where my daughter is. Why is that so difficult for you?”
I still do not answer him.
“Tell me, boy! Or there will be worse consequences for you. Far worse than anything you’ve experienced thus far.”
His face is beginning to turn red, his lips pressed tightly together. A niggle of satisfaction blooms in my chest.
I finally speak. “Tell me where my father is. I think you know.”
The King grips the arms of his throne tighter. I can see his knuckles turning white as he considers what to say next. The prince is quietly watching him, eyes wide.
“Listen to me carefully, boy. You’ve got six days to tell me where the little traitor is or for her to show up here on her own. If neither of those happen, you die.”
“Tell me where my father is. Then I will.”
“I’ll do no such thing. I will not make a deal on your terms. Only mine. Am I clear on what’s at stake here?”
“Yes. Sir.” I say not another word. There is no way in hell I’m going to give Raven up to this man. I’d happily die first. I betrayed her once before, and I’ll never, ever do a thing like that again.
The King hesitates, as if he wants to say something else. “Take him back down,” he finally barks.
The Hunters jerk me around, still gripping my arms, and start to pull me back toward the hallway.
“Wait,” the King orders. I’m shoved back around to face him. “I believe I have a piece of mail for you.” The King hands the prince a small slip of paper. The boy scurries over and thrusts it toward me. I take it, clenching the note up in my hand. I pause. Does he want me to read it, here in front of him? But the King stands and departs through the curtain off to the side of the dais. I grip the paper even more tightly.
The Hunters deposit me back in the cell, but they don’t take the cloak. I wrap the blue cloth tightly around me, thankful it eases the coldness of the stones. Somewhat.
I look at the paper in my hand, still folded. I don’t need to open it to know; the color of the paper—white with faint gray swirls—tells me exactly who it’s from.
It’s Papa’s stationary.
Chapter 21
The wildegaard’s screams seem unreal, its distant body still tiny in the shimmering moonlight. The black shape grows larger as it comes toward us, and its volume ascends alarmingly. Deafening. The three men duck, covering their eyes, though I know that won’t do any good. The screaming, when the wildegaard is this close, sounds like it’s coming from inside you.
The creature swoops overhead, so close I can smell its rancid breath. Then it’s gone, back into the forest it came from.
One of the tall men is wheezing, grasping his chest like he’s going to have a heart attack. The other is prone on the ground, mumbling incoherently.
“What the? How did that get out?” the squat man says.
“You’ve not seen one before?” I ask.
The man shakes his head rapidly no, enormous eyes glowing in the darkness.
“Those are my friends, and they are telling you to get out of the way and let us pass.”
The man’s head nods up and down, and he steps aside. He grabs the sleeves of the other two men, taking them with him. I glance behind me to see newly lit lanterns glowing in windows, occupants wide awake now.
The three men stand with their backs against the shed and silently watch the three of us ride past. “Thank you. Be well,” I tell them. A few minutes later, with the town behind us, I give Pearl a small kick, and she’s off at a run. We don’t stop for hours.
I slow my horse down at mid-morning, dying of thirst and badly needing to stretch my legs. Besides, there’s someone I’m certain is nearby whom I must speak to.
We’re at the start of the wide valley between mountain ranges. Miles and miles of grassland spreads out before us.
I walk a little way from the resting horses, not wanting to alarm them. I put my hands to my mouth and call out.
“Cecil! I know you’re out there. Come! I need to speak with you!”
I listen. At first there’s only the sound of the wind rustling the grasses. Then a louder, swishing noise, and his golden brown face is there.
“Hello, m’lady Raven! How did you guess I was nearby?”
Before I answer him, I hug his middle, burying my face in his soft golden fur. My arms don’t even wrap around a quarter of his large body. I feel his low, deep purr rumble against my chest.
I release him, stepping back. “It’s good to see you, old friend.”
“That it is, m’lady. I am so glad to see you are well. And you too, Tui.” He nods over at Tui, who is still eating near the horses. “And you too, Catriona. Don’t be frightened, you can put that away.” I glance behind me; Catriona’s tucking a small knife back inside her boot.
“Sorry,” she says. “Instinct.”
Cecil chuckles at that, the deep rumbling purr of a bearcat laugh.
I look at the enormous creature and raise an eyebrow at him. “Ceeeecil.” I draw his name out with admonishment. He bows his head slightly.
“I’m sorry, m’lady. I know I should have asked your permission first. Before we followed you.”
“And how long has that been?”
“Well …”
“Cecil?”
“All right, m’lady. We’ve been following since I left Tui at the Bastion, weeks ago.”
I look over at Tui. He shrugs. Obviously the cats didn’t return to the mountains like Cecil promised.
Cecil’s head is still tilted down, but his huge amber eyes are looking up at me. Like a giant begging kitten. I have to fight the urge to giggle, to scratch him behind the ears.
“We were planning on returning to Zenith, I swear, m’lady. It’s just that with all the Hunters setting out, plus these new people, the ones they are calling Loyalists, well, I thought you could use my help.”
“Of course I can. That’s no big deal. But, Cecil—what do you know of those three men in the northern Zenith Mountains? Do you know what happened to them?”
Cecil bows his head down again. Deeply this time. “I do, m’lady. They were not good men. They would have done you harm. I could smell it.”
“Look at me, Cecil.” The cat raises his head once more. His eyes are watery.
“I know you thought you were doing good. But here’s the problem: if word gets out that bearcats were the ones responsible for those men’s deaths, that will only serve to feed the fear and terror of your kind—putting all of your clan in danger of retribution.”
Cecil nods. “I know you are right, m’lady. I hope killing those men won’t cause more harm than they might have done.”
I reach out and pat his golden mane, then grasp part of his huge paw. “I hope not either.”
The problem is, the moment I say all this, I realize I only half believe what I’m saying. A little fear of bearcats is not a bad thing either.
Cecil bows his head again. “Yes, m’lady. I swear to you we shall not do such a thing again. Not unless you are in dire danger.”
“I shall agree to that. I welcome your protection, as I always have. But the
danger must be imminent before you … act.”
Cecil and I shake on it, and he turns, bounding off into the tall grass. I watch until I can’t see him any longer. But I know he’ll keep his word, not letting me out of his sight.
We ride until after sunset. Thankfully, we had remembered to bring a few bits of wood from the forest and have managed to make a small fire to roast some food. I don’t have the sense that the bearcats are near us any longer. They must be out hunting for their own dinner in the darkness.
Tui is pushing potatoes around in the coals, and Catriona is using a small knife to carve a point into a stick for roasting the last of our sausages. I’ve been rehearsing what I’m going to say to them all day. But now it’s time. I can’t put it off any longer, so I come right out and say it.
“I think we should ask the bearcats to come with us.”
Tui looks confused. “What do you mean? They already are.”
But Catriona’s eyes go wide; it’s clear she knows exactly what I mean. “Are you sure about that? Are you sure it’s safe to have these guys along with us? We’re going to pass through the next town tomorrow—Dunfall—and I know for a fact there are Hunters there. We’ve got no chance of sneaking through with this crew in tow.”
Tui, now realizing what I’m suggesting, has a look of pure shock on his face. “Whoa. Really?”
My heart skips a beat at the thought of what could happen tomorrow. “I know this might not work out at all, that the Hunters will capture us with or without our bearcat entourage. But there’s a chance it’ll work. And it’s the best one we’ve got. We don’t have time to mess around. We’ve got to go straight on the main road to the Bastion. No side routes this time. Leif’s days are surely numbered if I don’t get there quickly.”
“But what if the Hunters do just that? Hunt the bearcats? Like they used to do. Although that was a long while ago …” Catriona returns her attention to whittling the stick.
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