Dinga’s pointed ears perked up, and he hopped up on the table. “Dinga doesn’t need to be told twice, lady with food.”
“The skyball will soon rise high in the sky, and I must get to my patrons upstairs.” She turned toward the dark stairway. “I’ll be back at the first light of dusk.”
“Well, she’s nice,” I told Sebastian.
“She’s delightful,” Sebastian answered. “Her bread pudding is the best I’ve ever had.”
“The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” I murmured.
“Only if it is ishies,” Dinga said. “Which reminds me, mistress, may I go hunt before first light?”
Ugh, I forgot he existed on bugs and mice. “As long as you keep to the alleys and shadows,” I sighed.
He hopped twice and fled up the stairs after Bailia.
“Keep your dagger on you, Dinga!” I called.
He flashed it behind him as he skipped up the stairs.
Sebastian was still seated at the table. “I guess I’d better find this lounge thing and get some rest. Weren’t we just jumping out of prisons and running across fields?” He smiled.
We had almost died at least three times, and he wanted to joke about it? Nonetheless, his smile was infectious. I smiled but looked down. “I’m, uh, I’m going to find this closet of clothes Bailia mentioned.”
Turns out it was easy to find. As large as the room was, each one of the tapestries served a purpose of hiding some doorway or small room off the central hall. The first was the mat Bailia had mentioned, and though flat and straw, looked welcoming. I let the cloth fall back in place and searched for clothes instead.
Sebastian was snoring loudly on a half couch in the corner, before he even had a chance to take off his high boots. He had curled his vest under his head and had one arm flung behind him. His white shirt was dusty and stained, and the arms even had soot on them from the village’s attack. He looked in need of clothes more than I.
I looked down at my jeans, ripped at both knees, one leg ripped above the knee as well. The hem on my right leg dangled behind me. My t-shirt was smudged with dirt and ash, and somewhere one of the arms had torn off. What I really needed was a bath, but I’d settle for new clothes. I wondered if there were only dresses in here. God forbid I’d have to wear one.
I finally found stacks of clothes hidden behind the last curtain. I unfolded the first two dresses, ugly and brown, but too tired to be picky, shoved them under my arm. Just for good measure, a found a pair of trousers tucked up above, and I grabbed those, too. I disliked having to wear a dress, but at least this would be tolerable. Before I left, I grabbed a white lacy shift, the kind I’d seen women wear in the old black and white movies. I’d seen some women wearing them on the streets yesterday, too.
Back in the tiny round room, there was a chair and small table in the corner I laid the dress and trousers over. I was so relieved to peel off my tattered jeans and ripped shirt, and the cotton of the shift was cool and relaxing. I pulled the stretched band from my ponytail and let my hair fly out behind me. There wasn’t a pillow on the mat, so I folded up my old clothes and laid them under my head.
I thought about the few hours of rest Sebastian and I had received on a mat in a tiny tent back in the village. I felt the heat rising to my cheeks when I thought of the kiss we shared. How quickly such was forgotten when we had to flee for our lives. I clasped the dagger to me. In that moment there was no Order of the Dragon Key, no dagger or clock face or my mother, the real queen.
I had no idea how long I slept. I still hadn’t figured out if time worked differently here. The days seemed shorter, the nights longer. The clocks were all in sync, except the ones on the Keeper. But in this underground lair, telling time by the red sun was impossible.
I knew when I awakened it was to the face of my mother.
“Alayna.” she shook me quietly. She sat on the stool next to my bed. She was dressed not in the finery of last night, but in a simple tan dress that buttoned from the nape of her neck to her ankles.
“What time is it?” I rubbed my eyes and sat up. “How long did I sleep?”
“Time is different here,” she said, “not measured in hours, but in days for the most part.”
“How long?” I asked again. I was still mad at her from last night.
“The day is nearly gone. Victor and the others will be here soon.”
“I need to find Dinga.”
“Shh,” my mother urged.
Just like old times, just always make sure I was quiet.
“They are just outside, him and that boy, Sebastian. Eating again.”
I pushed to my feet. “I’ll just check on them.”
“Alayna, wait, there’s something I need to tell you.”
She reached in the pocket of her simple skirt and pulled out a large black rectangle. She tossed it toward me.
Dinga poked his head in the room. “Mistress? Are you awake?”
“Come in, Dinga,” I sat on the sleeping mat, turning the device over in my hand as Dinga plopped down next to me.
“What is that mistress?”
I turned it over in my hand. “It’s a—” It was an ancient cell phone, with a flip cover over the numbers, and a tiny screen. My mother had had a phone like this once upon a time. I remembered her talking on it, the day my grandfather, my father’s father, died. It was a relic, nothing like the ones with full color touch screens the girls at my high school had. “It’s a phone,” I finished.
“A what?” Dinga asked again.
“You can talk to people on it, like this,” I held it to my ear. I looked at my mother.
Her lips were pressed in a firm line as she watched us.
“Turn it on,” she said.
I pressed my nail to the red power button, holding it down. The screen flickered to life. The background picture was a little girl full of happiness and life, smiling into the camera over a lit cake on their fifth birthday, according to the number of candles. I wiped a tear from my eye. “That’s me,” I said.
My mother nodded.
The phone beeped, the battery alert hiding my nearly toothless grin in the picture. The battery held at three percent but was fading fast. Not sure what to do and with Dinga watching intently, I punched in the list of numbers recently dialed and scrolled down. Many were to her office at Advantage Vacuums, a few to our home phone, and one stored as “G. Lyndell.”
“Dr. Grace Lyndell? Why would you call her?” I looked up at her.
My mother didn’t answer but motioned to the phone.
I went to school with Grace’s kids. Tommy was my age, a tall kid who was the star of the high school basketball team, and Bessie was a shy girl with glasses too big for her face. Our town was small. I grew up with most of the kids whose parents were teachers, nurses, lawyers, and business owners.
I’d never forget “bring your parents to school day” in sixth grade, the year before my mom died, when Tommy’s mom had told us all about her job: “Bringing babies into the world safely and naturally.” Mrs. Lyndell was my town’s only midwife slash nurse.
Why would my mother have called her so many years ago?
The voicemail signal blinked on the phone. I pressed in the button on the keys.
“The passcode is 1019.”
“My birthday.”
“The happiest day of my life.”
I ignored her as Dr. Lyndell’s voice came across the voicemail. “I have your results, Lydia, it’s a boy! Call my office to set up your next...”
Before the message could continue, the phone gave up the ghost and the screen went blank. I stared at it, not realizing what I’d just heard.
“What’s wrong with that contraption, mistress?” Dinga looked worried.
“It’s dead,” I told him.
“Can you revive it, mistress?”
I looked at him. “I’m afraid not, Dinga.”
I stared at my mother. “I have a brother?”
“Aye. It’s...”
>
“Am I interrupting?” Sebastian’s curly head stuck through the canvas curtain that served as the door to my chambers. “Victor’s here, my Queen.”
My mother nodded. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”
Sebastian nodded and disappeared.
Dinga jumped up. “I am such a bad Zespar, mistress!”
I looked up at him, the phone forgotten for the moment. “Dinga, why?”
He tugged on my hand. “You must come with me. I must tell him about Anual Elinar.”
“Oh!” I exclaimed. “Mother, I’m sorry, but the Anual was kidnapped by the Keeper.”
She jumped to her feet. “What? The Keeper has Elinar?”
“Yes, in the, er, excitement last night we failed to mention it.”
“We can continue this conversation later,” she opened the canvas curtain. “I just want you to know, Alayna, there were reasons I couldn’t stay, even though I wanted to. I love you.”
Without waiting for my response, she disappeared to the main hall.
“Come on, mistress!” Dinga still tugged at my hand.
I followed him, though my head was somewhere else.
I have a brother. What did this mean? Who was it? Was he here? Was it someone I knew? I needed to find out. Much to my despair, I knew it would have to wait. We had bigger problems. I didn’t know if I wanted to stay, after all, I wasn’t any kind of hero. I swallowed my pride and approached the table with my secret held tight in my chest.
Chapter Eleven: Coward
ONLY VICTOR AND THE old man from last night sat at the table this time, and beside my mother, the other women were gone.
Edwin and Sebastian sat at the far end of the table, the remnants of food, some kind of dark meat and pastries spread in front of them.
Edwin sneered at me, taking a swig from the ornate goblet in front of him. “Well, if it isn’t the princess, fresh from her beauty rest.”
“Excuse me?” I pulled out a chair and took a seat.
Edwin seemed in such a good mood last night. What happened?
“It’s hours past dinner, your mother insisted that we let you sleep,” Sebastian told me. “They’ve been here for many ticks of the clock, just looking at maps and discussing things quietly.”
“It’s late,” Edwin said, his voice slurring, “likely they were afraid of being discovered. But I’m not sure.”
“I’m sure they—” Sebastian started.
“Who really cares?” Edwin mumbled, staring at me. “I mean, it’s not like they can even do anything.” He hiccupped and leaned severely to the right of his chair.
Sebastian reached over and pushed him upright.
“Just talk, talk, talk, all the damned time.”
“Edwin, are you drunk?” I said. I knew that look anywhere.
“Maybe,” he slurred.
I looked at Sebastian.
“Don’t look at me,” Sebastian said his hands up in front of him. “He showed up this way about an hour ago.”
“What’s your problem?” I tried to keep my voice down so the others didn’t hear. “We have major decisions to make and you’re—”
“You do not know me,” Edwin narrowed his eyes at me. He stood and pushed away from the table so hard his chair toppled over. “Like you’re some kind of princess, you guttersnape.”
“Edwin!” My mother exclaimed from the other end of the table. “Your tone!”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” he snapped. “I’ll excuse myself.”
“Son, perhaps some fresh air,” Victor said without even looking at him.
Edwin threw me a look of disgust and stomped up the stairs to the top of the bakery.
“What’s his problem?” I asked Sebastian.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged and started to fill his plate again.
Dinga tugged on my sleeve. I looked down. “Mistress,” he whispered, “The Anual.”
“Excuse me, but we have another problem, Uncle,” Sebastian spoke up, “in regard to the Zespar.”
“Yes? What it is?” Victor turned from his conversation with my mother and sat up straighter.
“My village was attacked,” Dinga spoke up, his voice wavering. He was standing on an empty chair next to Sebastian. “Mistress and the Light Spinner fought valiantly, but many were lost. And our Anual Elinar, our leader, was taken by the metal beasts,” Dinga finished.
“That’s not all,” Sebastian looked at me. I nodded. “The Keeper wants something in exchange for his life.”
“Speak, what is it?” The older man on Victor’s right urged him.
Sebastian was still gazing at me.
“It’s the marlita,” I said, “He wants marlita in exchange for the Anual’s life.”
“Where can we find marlita? Only the Zespars and the border tribes mine it,” my mother said.
“We have some,” I spoke up.
Sebastian looked at me, and I nodded. He untied the pouch around his waist and gently pushed it down the table towards Victor. “I have their stores, Sir.”
Victor took the pouch and peered under the flap. “Marlita?”
Sebastian nodded.
Victor invited us to their side of the table. For hours, we poured over maps of the castle. I learned about underground tunnels and towers, of metal guards and palace slaves.
Sebastian was always one step ahead of me, asking questions that were on the tip of my tongue.
I barely said anything but absorbed so much. A few times I caught my mother staring at me, and once I smiled at her.
Her face lit up, and I felt my anger quickly dissipating from last night. Maybe this could work. Just maybe.
The old man, Malachai, Victor’s ancient father, I had learned, finally leaned back and stretched. “The hour grows late,” Malachai said. “This can be discussed more at length tomorrow.”
“But time grows short,” my mother insisted.
“My dear,” the old man said, “You plan to send these young people into the heart of disaster on little sleep? I do not think so.”
Victor sighed, and pushed the pouch back toward us, where Dinga snatched it up and held it to his chest. He glanced at the queen. “Time is not on our side.”
“We cannot wait any longer,” said a voice from the stairs. We turned to see Edwin racing into the room. “The Keeper has mobilized his dragons. He’s conniving something mischievous, I’m afraid.”
“Edwin,” Victor said, “I see you have sobered.”
Edwin sneered at him. “I have a few ideas.”
“Our planning can wait, we have time,” Malachai insisted.
“Grandpapa,” Edwin snapped, “I don’t need to rest. I think we should—”
“Boy,” Malachai’s commanding voice said, “do not question the elders of this order.”
Edwin threw me a look, his face flushed, then cast his eyes to his hands. “Yes, Grandpapa.” He turned and fled back up the stairs and out of sight.
Dinga tugged on my shirt again. “Mistress, I am tired, but if you wish I can stand guard—"
“No, go hunt, Dinga,” I smiled at him.
“It’s been a long day,” Sebastian said, “and even longer tomorrow still.” He stretched and stood.
I stifled a yawn. “I never knew planning could be so tiring!”
“Just wait until you see what I’ve got in my workshop.” Sebastian winked.
“What does that mean?” I couldn’t help but smile. “‘Workshop,’ eh?”
He smiled and shook his head but didn’t answer me. He strode to his lounge on the other side of the room.
Victor and my mother were leaving, hand in hand. I marveled at how they gazed at each other, it was clear they were lovers of some kind. I stopped my mother at the bottom of the stairs. “Where do you go during the days?”
She looked at Victor. He nodded. “Victor has an underground bedroom where I am safe from the Keeper. We take the tunnels there.”
“Well, stay safe.” I knew how awkward it sounded.
She smiled and held out her arms.
I couldn’t help but step into them. A part of me hated her for leaving me, but a that larger part wanted her back with me. She was a warm comfort after all the years I’d missed her.
But my mind was made up now and I knew what I had to do. I started to cry. “Mommy, why did you have to leave me?”
She kissed the top of my head. “I’ll explain everything tomorrow.” She held me at arm’s length. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I stood alone in the empty room.
Dinga had gone to hunt and Sebastian was out of sight. Before I lost my nerve, I held out my hand and motioned for the dagger. I sheathed it without a word and started toward the stairs.
“Alayna, where are you going?”
I frowned. I couldn’t bear their disappointment. I turned away from the table. I was such a chicken shit, I couldn’t even face him, let alone my mother. “I’m sorry, I can’t do it.”
“What are you talking about? Alayna, come back!”
His voice killed me, but I willed my legs forward. “I’m not your hero,” I said over my shoulder. Without another thought, I ran to the stairs, pushed passed a rather shocked Bailia, and out the back entrance of her bakery.
The town was dark and I was scared, but I knew where to go. I was out the small door by the city gates and in the countryside before I could stop myself.
I wasn’t their hero.
Book II: Clock Prince
Chapter Twelve: Sebastian
“MASTER SEBASTIAN, DINGA is not sure about this place!”
I looked down at the small blue demon next to me. The light shield I’d spun around him was holding, but when he began to shake like that, I wasn’t sure if anyone could see him.
“Dinga, calm yourself,” I whispered. I was just as scared as he was. This world was loud and terrifying, and I hated every minute of it.
A large mechanical contraption sped past us, the noise from its front grate so loud I had to clamp my free hand to my ear. It was yellow with a bright light atop it. The man in the front seat shook his fist at us.
I gripped her wheel tighter. Delilah wasn’t used to these smooth gray roads. She sputtered, black smoke blowing out her backside.
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