Five Poisoned Apples

by Skye Hoffert et al.

  Jathis fell in with them, and Murke and Raff were just approaching Brax when they did. Brax stood over a lifeless Pell. His eyes were closed, but Zaig could see by his twisted limbs that there had been a struggle. A savage, broken cry tore from Raff, and Murke pulled him to the side.

  “Snakebite?” Brax frowned, confusion etched in his face.

  Zaig glanced at Pell’s ashen skin, glad for a distraction from the pain around him. There were two small holes, bright red below Pell’s jawline. He frowned and leaned down to look closer. “It looks like it.”

  “That makes no sense.” Norvin voiced Zaig’s own thoughts. “The privy be right back of the house. Not way out here.”

  “That be a big snake to reach a man standing,” Jathis muttered, and Zaig caught himself scanning the ground.

  He shook his head. His mind reeled, unable to comprehend what he saw. How could a snake strike a full grown man in the neck? And Pell had clearly struggled against something. Snakes in these parts were nowhere near big enough for that. “Something’s not right,” he growled. “Let’s get him back.”

  A sick knot churned in his stomach, and he wanted to bolt away from the group, but he made himself hold still. He’d never wanted to feel this way again. Not since his mother died. He’d worked so hard to keep his emotions concealed, yet now they reared up again, laughing in his face, all his work useless. He’d get to the bottom of this. He had to.

  He followed as they carried Pell’s body back to the clearing, watching for any signs of the attacker. Murke and Raff set to digging. Ailda joined them in the cabin yard, and her tears fell in earnest.

  “It’s my fault,” she whispered. “This is all my fault.”

  “No, it’s not.” Zaig reached to comfort her, but she stepped away, her eyes widening.

  “It is! Don’t you see? This is Minoa’s doing! She must know I’m here; that’s why she killed Zehlam.”

  Zaig shook his head. “Why kill Zehlam?” His friend had nothing to do with it. No more than any of the rest did, and they were still alive.

  Ailda swiped at her tears and grabbed his hand, pumping it like a cistern jack. “To get to you. For rescuing me. That’s how she is. She has to make you suffer for going against her. This is all because of me. She married my father for the throne and convinced him to name her regent, then killed him. She hates me because she feels threatened. I’ll come to power next year. Even if she tried to take over it would never work. The people love me more than her. I’m more beautiful than she is. She’s jealous of me and needs me dead to keep the throne.”

  “What about Pell?” Brax cut in. “She killed Zehlam, then Pell dies a few days later from a snakebite? It doesn’t make sense.”

  Ailda turned to him. “I’m certain it wasn’t a snake. Not a natural one anyway. The Queen is a witch, I’m convinced. She hides away in her chambers, constantly poring over old spell books, crystal balls, golden mirrors.” She fluttered a delicate hand. “She’s got all manner of twisted relics in there.” A tiny sob escaped her, and she turned to where Murke and Rath were digging at the edge of the clearing. Slowly, she walked over and started picking bunches of small white flowers, setting them near the developing grave.

  Norvin muttered something in the mountain tongue Zaig couldn’t understand. Probably warding off whatever evil he deemed present in their camp.

  Zaig had heard enough. He captured his horse from where it had wandered to graze near the draft horses. He wasn’t sure what to believe. If Minoa had anything to do with this, if she was one by one killing off his friends to get to him, then he was going to find out and put a stop to it.

  “Where are you going?” Brax demanded, following him.

  “To the castle.” Zaig jerked the cinch tight.

  “Zaig, don’t be foolish. What are you going to do?”

  Zaig glanced over his shoulder. “I’m going to find out what’s going on and make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

  “You can’t just go marching into the castle on your own,” Norvin protested, Jathis on his heels. “Tisn’t a good idea. You’re not thinking clear.”

  “I’m thinking just fine,” Zaig snapped, but he knew it wasn’t true. His emotions were too high, and he just wanted to lash out at something. Ailda could say what she wanted, but this was his fault. Not for saving her, but for agreeing to meet the queen in the first place, for learning how to do the things he did, for starting it all that night on the ship. He had to put a stop to it. “I’m going.”

  “And what are we supposed to do while you single-handedly storm the palace?” Brax grabbed his arm, but Zaig shook him off.

  “Get somewhere safe.” Zaig swung into the saddle.

  Brax took the reins, peering up at him, his eyes hollow in his pale face. “Where’s safe?”

  Zaig forced himself to stop and think. Of course, they couldn’t stay here. “Do you know the way to Brister? It’s two days south, walking.”

  “I know it.” Brax nodded.

  “Right before you get to town, a rock outcropping overlooks the road with a lone willow tree growing out of it. You can’t see from the road, but there’s a cave at the base of it. The opening is just big enough for a man.”

  “That’s where you would stay when your father tossed you out, right?”

  Zaig nodded slightly. “Go there.” He pulled a few gold coins from his pocket. “You can get supplies in town.”

  Brax took the money soberly. “Just be careful, all right?”

  “Aren’t I always?” Zaig forced a grin, but Brax didn’t return it.

  Ailda hurried over, clutching her skirts. “Zaig, this is ridiculous. What can you do against Minoa in her own castle?”

  He didn’t have an answer for that, and the look on Brax’s face told Zaig he knew it. But he wasn’t going to let Ailda know. “I’m going to set things right.”

  She grabbed his hand and tugged him down toward her. “Please, don’t go.”

  “I’m going,” he said firmly.

  Her eyes got misty and she nodded slightly. “Then . . . be careful.” She pulled him down farther, and he saw her lips start to pucker.

  If she kisses you, you’ll die.

  Fear shot through him like a flaming arrow, and he yanked upright. He didn’t wait for a reaction, just wheeled the horse and rode off into the trees.

  Chapter Six

  Zaig eyed the gate he’d been left to guard the day he met Ailda. It seemed like years ago. A guard stood there now, and Zaig had to give him credit for being awake, even though it did pose an inconvenience. He walked toward the gate, and the guard dutifully straightened and blocked his path.

  “Who are you? What’s your business?”

  “Ask him.” Zaig pointed toward the courtyard.

  The guard turned to look, and as he did, Zaig cuffed him on the side of the head. His eyes rolled back and his knees gave out. Zaig grabbed him, easing him down against the wall. He glanced around quickly then hurried into the courtyard.

  In front of the castle was a flurry of activity. Companies of soldiers came and went from searching for the lost princess, and a group of carriages were making their way out the front gate. Zaig paused to watch them, the sun reflecting off their shiny black surfaces. Probably the Prime Minister, or other members of the court, receiving reports on how the search was going.

  He turned away quickly and headed toward the rear portion of the courtyard, through the gardens and outdoor servants’ quarters. The kitchen entrance was in the back corner; men were hauling in boxes of vegetables and supplies. Everyone was dressed in full mourning black, and Zaig hoped his gray shirt would at least pass for half mourning as he grabbed a crate off the cart and carried it inside.

  A flustered-looking woman pointed him toward a table, then called a scolding at someone else. Zaig deposited the box and grabbed a silver tea service instead, then slipped out of the kitchen into the corridor. He glanced right and left but both directions were empty and offered no clue to where they led. He would
guess that anything this far back in the castle would have to do with servants, so he turned left toward the front.

  A girl came around the corner, carrying a bundle of bed linens, and Zaig cleared his throat. “Excuse me, can you tell me where Her Highness is? I’m supposed to bring her tea.”

  The maid paused and frowned at him. “One of her ladies should be doing that.”

  Zaig nodded, keeping his face blank. What did royal servants act like? “I know. She was going to and got called away. She asked me to finish up for her. Can you tell me where the queen is?”

  She jutted her chin back the way she’d come, shifting her load. “In the library.”

  “Thank you,” he said, but the maid was already heading down the hallway, and he hastened in the direction she’d indicated. The corridors were a labyrinth of doors and more hallways, and he had no idea which one would lead to the library. The doors all looked the same and he didn’t have time to open every single one. He needed to get out of sight and find the queen as soon as possible before someone realized he didn’t work here at all.

  He came to a set of double doors, ornately carved with a tree, its branches stretching to all sides. Beneath its trunk words were carved among the roots. Zaig paused and squinted at the foreign letters. He had no idea what they said, but if he were to have a library, he would put it behind a door like that.

  He nudged it open and upon entering was pleased to see shelves of books lining the wall. The lamps burned low, creating a cozy atmosphere, and Zaig started through the room, glancing down the aisles between shelves. It was like a maze, and he found himself before a large fireplace, with chairs arranged around it.

  Queen Minoa glanced up coolly from a dainty teacup. “I’ve already had my tea for the day. I don’t think I could drink another pot.”

  “That’s good.” Zaig set the tea tray down on a nearby end table, marveling at her constant calm. “Because I think it’s empty.”

  “Zaig.” Minoa nodded slightly and set her cup down. If she was surprised to see him, she didn’t show it. “I’m afraid I have no need of your services. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

  Zaig strode forward without bowing and stopped in front of the plush red chair where she was seated. “Two loggers, in the woods east of here.” His throat felt tight, and he fought to keep his tone level and not alert anyone passing by.

  She arched a delicate eyebrow, and Zaig searched her expression for some hint of recognition. There was nothing but cool, commanding beauty. “What about them?”

  “Did you have them killed?” Saying it out loud set his blood boiling. Only a coward would do something so underhanded. If she had a fight it was with him, not his friends.

  The queen frowned, carefully smoothing her mauve skirts. “Why would I do something like that?”

  Zaig kept silent. He couldn’t read this woman. If she had killed his friends, then she already knew why. If she hadn’t, he risked revealing his secret. Ailda’s secret.

  She scowled at him. “I’ve killed no one. And how dare you come in here as my equal?” She paused and searched his face, her lips pulling into a thin line. “Were their throats cut?”

  Zaig flinched. So she did know something.

  Minoa stood, her hands fisted, and he had to resist the urge to step back, even though she only stood level with his chin. “You lied to me!” she hissed through clenched teeth. “She’s alive. Guards!”

  Zaig spun, looking for a way out as the doors flew open and five guards came after him. Where had they even come from so quickly?

  He threw a punch, catching one on the chin, but they surrounded him, and one came from behind and slammed his arms to his sides. Zaig jerked to free himself. He couldn’t be captured. Someone was killing his friends, and now he had no idea who. He had to find out before any more of them were hurt.

  Minoa loomed before his gaze, her face white and terrible with rage. She wouldn’t even look at him, addressing herself only to her guards. “Throw him in the dungeon.”

  As the queen turned away, the guards wrestled Zaig toward the door. He kicked one in the leg, and the guard staggered back, but another one jammed an elbow into the side of his head. Zaig’s vision flashed. He blinked hard, trying to clear his head, and his gaze locked on Minoa.

  She turned just before they dragged him into the corridor, her eyes hard. “The murderer who killed your friends is alive because of you.”

  The cell door clanged shut with a finality that made Zaig want to retch. How had this happened? What a fool he was! What had the queen’s last words meant?

  Mind games, he told himself. That’s what she was playing. Surely he hadn’t left his friends in the company of danger. Ailda was no killer, of that he was certain.

  He rapped his fist against the cold stone wall, sending a shot of pain up his arm. It didn’t matter what he thought. He wasn’t getting out of here. The cell was small and square, only about as long as he was tall. There was a scrap of blanket in the corner and a slop bucket. Nothing else. Not even a window.

  Zaig leaned his forehead against the rough stone wall, trying to think. He didn’t understand. Minoa’s reaction seemed to suggest that she hadn’t known Ailda was alive. If that were true, then she had no reason to kill his friends. So how had she known their throats were cut? Zehlam’s was, anyway. And as for Pell . . . what about the supposed snake bite? Zaig still didn’t believe that, but what else could it be?

  Running his fingers through his hair, Zaig tried to push his thoughts into order. What had the queen meant, that the murderer was alive because of him? It didn’t make any sense to even consider Ailda. The girl was sweet and gentle, and he’d seen himself how shaken she was at the deaths.

  Someone else then? He thought back through the various jobs he’d taken on over the past eight years. Nausea pushed on his stomach. He’d let no one live. Left no loose ends. And he’d certainly never revealed any connection between himself and his friends. No, it couldn’t be someone from an old job. And how would Minoa know about them anyway?

  There were too many questions with no way to get answers.

  Zaig sank dejectedly onto the blanket and sucked in a deep breath. Maybe he could use his reward money to buy his freedom. He doubted it. But it was the only chance he had.

  Time dragged on at a pace so slow, Zaig almost wondered if it had stopped altogether. The ache in his stomach between meals told him he was fed only once a day, but without the sun it was impossible to tell for sure. He tried to mark off the days in the dust on the floor, but sooner or later the lines got smeared, and he lost interest in trying again.

  Once, he asked a guard to send word to a Brax in Brister that he was here, but the guard never responded. Brax didn’t come, so Zaig assumed either no word was ever sent or Minoa wouldn’t let anyone see him.

  His mind wandered beyond the walls of his prison. Had his friends made it to the cave? Was Ailda all right? Ailda. She’d asked him not to leave. He should have listened. Getting himself thrown into a dungeon wasn’t helping any of them.

  She’d tried to kiss him.

  The memory came up often, and each time he shoved it back down but with little success. The deep green pools of her eyes, the gentle curve of her mouth, the fear that had shot through him at the sight of her. He’d let Queen Minoa ruin everything for him. Anger flared in his chest, and Zaig slammed his fist into the wall, not caring that the skin cracked and bled. The pain was a distraction from bigger miseries.

  It was mind-numbing, maddening to be cooped up with no variation from hour to hour. Zaig forced himself to work. To do anything besides stare at the wall. He did every sort of exercise he knew and ran miles in place in the center of his cell. When he was through, he was no less desirous of smashing his head into the wall than he’d been before, so he started again.

  Finally, a day came that brought a break in the monotony. The door to his cell swung open, but instead of a servant bringing food, it was a guard bringing Brax.

&n
bsp; Zaig leapt to his feet, hope and fear shooting through him like arrows. “You got my message!”

  Brax waved a hand. “Steady. We don’t have much time. How are you?”

  “I think Her Highness intends to bore me to death. I can’t stand it.” Zaig fought to keep his voice under control, but he wanted to push past Brax and the guard and make a break for it.

  “We’re trying to work a deal to free you. I came as soon as I could.” Brax ran a hand over his eyes. “Why must you always be so foolhardy?”

  Zaig bit his lip, but Brax moved on. “She won’t consider releasing you unless we turn Ailda over.”

  “Don’t do that,” Zaig hissed. Saving Ailda was the one good thing he could remember doing in years, and he wasn’t about to let anyone just throw it away.

  Brax scowled. “I knew you’d say that.”

  “Brax, she’s the queen! Minoa is trying to take the crown from her. She’s defenseless.”

  “I know that! It’s just . . .” Brax looked at him, and his voice trailed off. “You won’t get out, Zaig.”

  Zaig looked away, shaking his head. He didn’t want to think about that right now. He couldn’t. “How is she?” he asked softly. Ailda wasn’t used to hard living. Was the cave too much for her?

  Brax hesitated. “She’s all right, now.” At Zaig’s look of alarm he continued. “One morning we found her outside the cave. She was like dead, but she was breathing, real shallow like. She stayed like that for days. We finally hauled her in to a doctor in town, and he figured it out.”

  “What happened?” Zaig urged, panic rising in his stomach.

  “She was choking. Had a clove of garlic lodged in her throat.” Brax shrugged. “She said she couldn’t sleep and went out for fresh air. Doesn’t remember nothing after that.”

  Zaig frowned, trying to piece the odd story into the mess of questions he already had. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he muttered.