Entwined Paths (Swift Shadows Book 2)

by M. L. Greye

  After his nightmare last night, he’d had the impulse to run the half day journey to Ewan’s old estate. To do what, he wasn’t sure. He’d just wanted to get away from the garrison. After a quick breakfast, he took off.

  He’d run and run. Until he was panting and sweaty – his feet hitting the ground the only sound in his head. He ran so hard that when he reached the manicured grounds of Ewan’s family’s home, he’d collapsed onto the grass – his chest heaving. Once he’d caught his breath, he discovered the estate had been boarded up. It wasn’t that there were boards over the windows. The estate had just been shut down. The grounds were still cared for by the hired Greens – there was simply no one living there.

  After spending less than an hour roaming the grounds of his dead friend, Declan had headed back to the garrison at a much more sedate pace. He’d still run at Teal speed, but he hadn’t pushed himself as he had on the run to the estate. In part, it was because there was one nagging question in the back of his mind.

  Where was Emry?

  He knew relatives had taken her away after Ewan’s death. At least, that was what Commander Jaymes had told him before he’d returned home for his hiatus from the garrison. At the time, the answer had satisfied Declan. It hadn’t bothered him that he’d not said goodbye to the girl he’d saved. But maybe he should have demanded a farewell. If anything, just to discover where she’d gone.

  Was that why she haunted his dreams? Was it because he wasn’t sure how she was doing – if her life had turned out any better than his own?

  In a few short weeks, it would be another Autumn’s Eve – signifying the two-year mark of Ewan’s death. Of that awful night that had changed everything. Last year he’d spent it with Quinn. She’d helped distract him. This year … Declan had already requested to work the night again. Even if he wasn’t scheduled, he could pick up a shift easily.

  No one relished the idea of working the holiday but him. Not to mention, it was getting harder to staff night shifts since another soldier had disappeared. A young woman this time – Genne. She’d been a friend of Quinn’s.

  Her disappearance was creating a sort of outrage within the garrison. Genne was a Green, with veins of gold. She was strong and had an above average ability to control plant growth. Declan had watched her shift a full-grown tree from one side of the garrison to the other just by placing a hand on its bark. She said she could communicate with the forest. That was what had everyone in an uproar.

  Bandits wouldn’t have snuck up on her. It wasn’t even that they shouldn’t have – they couldn’t have. The trees spoke to Genne. She’d once told him and Quinn when they’d stumbled upon her that she knew where everyone was within a mile radius while in the forest. No one could have snuck up on her. So what had happened to Genne? It was the question that scared half the garrison.

  Theories ranged from her running away with someone to abduction by the Royals. Genne was a Rioter to her core. But the likelihood of a Royal mob venturing all the way out to the Quirl border seemed far-fetched. Royals tended to gravitate to the larger cities, and avoided Anexia altogether.

  Declan wasn’t sure what had happened to Genne, but it had left him unsettled. Antsy. Too many had gone missing. Maybe Quinn had been right to leave after all.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Emry!”

  “In here,” Emry called out to her sister, keeping her eyes shut.

  She was in her newly completed bathing room, specifically her enormous new soaking tub. It was oval in shape and could easily fit two. It was probably too early in the day to take a bath, but after spending most of the morning and afternoon out in the palace gardens, she figured she should clean up before dinner. She could have showered, but her new bathtub had called to her.

  The sound of her sister’s slippered feet across the tile floor alerted Emry of her arrival. Emry merely dipped a little deeper into the bubbles, inhaling their scent – eucalyptus and jasmine. She didn’t really care if her sister saw her naked – she was just getting more comfortable.

  “How long have you been hiding in here?” Cit demanded. She sounded annoyed.

  Emry frowned. There shouldn’t have been a reason for Cit to be irritated. Not today, at least. In preparation for the arrival of the Heerth wedding party, all courtly visits had been postponed until further notice. So, Citrine should have been enjoying a duty-free day to practice on her pianoforte she loved so much. Emry opened her eyes. Her sister was draped in day gown of navy blue and white stripes, her short sleeves puffed slightly. The heart-shaped neckline was a little daring for Cit. Well, daring for a day of playing music.

  “Why are you dressed so nice? Did Father force you to take your tea with someone after all?” She purposely chose not to answer Cit’s question.

  “No.” Cit loosed a bark of laughter and folded her arms across her chest. “Your Heerth friends showed up two days early, and you weren’t around to greet them.”

  “What?” Emry blurted, gripping onto the edge of her tub with both hands.

  “Father is furious with you,” Cit went on. “Where have you been?”

  “I was just in the gardens.” Emry extended a hand towards her towel strewn across a nearby bench.

  Cit retrieved it for her. “The servants Father sent said they couldn’t find you anywhere.”

  “They never called out my name,” Emry retorted, standing to wrap the plush fabric around her.

  “You were running around as shadow again, weren’t you?” Cit was staring at herself in the wide mirror that sat above Emry’s bathtub, fussing with the curls framing her face. Only Cit and Trez knew of her ability to become shadow. Emry had told her sister of her new ability shortly after she’d arrived home from Heerth.

  “It’s good to practice,” Emry quipped, stepping out of the warm water onto the fluffy, white rug beside the tub.

  “Is that how you’ll explain your absence to Father?” Cit turned back to her, a smirk on her lips.

  Emry rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault the Heerths showed up early and unannounced. Are we to have dinner with Krynto tonight?”

  Citrine shook her head. “No, he said he wished to rest from his long journey. We’ll properly welcome the Heerths tomorrow.”

  “Good.” Emry bit the tip of her tongue. “Where’s Trezim?”

  Her sister’s grin faded into a frown. “He made a point to inform me that he’ll be taking his evening meal in his rooms.”

  “Of course he is.” Emry whirled to the door of her bathing room and yanked on the sand-colored braided cord hanging from the ceiling beside it. “I need Fanny.”

  Fanny was Emry’s somewhat new maid. When she’d returned from Heerth, her father had employed Fanny to help her dress, replacing the handmaidens she’d had in Zyntar in a way. Fanny was a tall, skinny Brown from Breccan. She was very polite, almost too polite, but she could do wonders to Emry’s mass of hair.

  “And what am I supposed to tell Father when you don’t show up for dinner?” Cit followed Emry out of the bathing room and into her large closet.

  The two princesses were expected to dine with their father every night. It was honestly the only meal a day they all shared. Emry usually enjoyed it. Tonight, though, she had a score to settle with the third prince of Heerth.

  “I’m going to apologize for my absence in person,” Emry replied, surveying her clothes. She had a specific outfit in mind for her reuniting with Trez.

  Cit dropped onto the cushioned stool in front of Emry’s vanity with a grunt. “Apologizing doesn’t usually include slapping someone across the face.”

  Emry grinned wickedly. “Oh, I won’t be slapping him.”

  As planned, Emry wore a dove gray gown with a squared neckline and a wine red ribbon around her waistline – just below her bust. Her tight sleeves went to her elbows. Embroidery the same color as the ribbon lined the hem of her gown in a pattern of elaborate swirls. Fanny had braided her hair in a rigid coronet. Emry had given herself a thorough inspection in front of t
he gaudy, ancient mirror she’d inherited. She looked exactly as she’d intended – beguiling and elegant and stunning. Exactly as she’d been hoping for months to appear when she was reunited with Trezim.

  Now, as Emry raised her hand to the door leading into Trezim’s assigned rooms, she plastered on the small, sultry smile she’d been practicing in the mirror for almost a year. Her own version to the one Sabine had used on the men she saw as prey.

  She knocked loudly. Twice.

  Footsteps sounded on the other side of the threshold. Emry waited as the door clicked open, revealing Trezim. The Heerth prince’s eyes widened momentarily in surprise before sweeping over her. He clearly liked what he saw as he retreated a step into his rooms with a crooked smile and somewhat glazed look in his eyes.

  “Hello, Emry.” His voice held a husky tone to it she wasn’t sure she’d ever heard before.

  Emry sauntered past the door. It snicked shut behind her. Moving slowly, assuredly, she paused mere inches from him. She gripped onto the lapels of his gold and navy Heerth vest that barely covered his bare, muscled dark chest beneath. Her hands pulled him down towards her. She angled her head upward as his went downward.

  “Hello, Trez,” she breathed.

  And then she thrust her knee up between his legs. Hard.

  Trezim bowled over with a mix between a whimper and a grunt. Emry smirked, and pushed him back with one hand to his shoulder as she stepped around him, deeper into the room. “Apologies for not being there to give you my greeting when you first arrived,” she tossed over her shoulder in Heerth. It felt good to use it again with him. “I would have loved for both our fathers to have witnessed it.”

  “What the h-” He stopped, wheezing. It took him another minute before he managed to croak out a string of curses as he crouched into a ball on the floor.

  Emry merely surveyed Trezim’s front room. His small, bistro sized table with two chairs was empty. “My sister said you were taking your dinner in here. Have I come too late or too early?”

  Trez moaned. “I was waiting for you.”

  “A bit arrogant of you to assume I would come,” Emry quipped.

  “Stupid of me to want it,” Trez retorted, his forehead still pressed into the wood below him.

  “No, it was stupid of you to think you’d get away with you did back in Heerth,” Emry shot back, twisting around to face him again.

  “Most girls would have been flattered.” Trez rolled onto his side so he could look at her without uncoiling.

  “You obviously have never chased a princess before.” Emry jutted out one hip and placed her hand on it. Trez was still glaring, but from his place on the floor … Emry laughed. She couldn’t help it. He looked like a thwarted puppy. Her laughter didn’t soften his look. She dropped her hand to her side and closed the distance between them.

  “It’s good to see you again, Trez.” She lowered herself to kneel beside him, not caring if her dress became wrinkled. If she got her way, she wouldn’t be in it for much longer. “I’ve missed you.”

  He watched her for another moment before loosing his breath out in a rush. He stretched out his limbs, still on his back, and his golden eyes stared up to the ceiling. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “Of course you have.” She patted his bare shoulder. “Now, I’m starving.”

  “I’m not really in the mood for Enlennd food,” he grunted, twisting his head so he could see her reaction.

  Emry rolled her eyes. “That’s unfortunate. I guess I’ll be ordering food just for me, then.”

  “Or…” His voice trailed off.

  “Or?” Emry repeated with a frown.

  “Or we could eat at my Heerth canteen,” he replied, his usual smile sliding into place.

  Her heart stuttered. It was exactly what she’d hoped – had planned for them tonight. She didn’t care if she had to threaten him, she was going to make him finally show her this place he’d told her about over six months ago. Trez bringing it up himself was better.

  Instead of exhibiting her excitement, Emry forced her face into boredom. “I wasn’t aware you owned a canteen in Enlennd.”

  Trez snorted and pushed himself to his feet. He extended a hand to Emry and helped her up as well. “Any other apologies you wish to make this evening?” He asked with a raised brow.

  She flashed him a sugary smile. “Nothing comes to mind.”

  His eyes dropped to her dress. “Do you need to change before we go?”

  “That depends,” she answered. “How will we be getting out of the palace unnoticed?”

  “I didn’t realize we needed to slink about just to go to Breccan.” He frowned.

  “Welcome back to Enlennd,” she said wryly.

  “Fine. Have any ideas?”

  “How’d you get to this Turanga canteen last time?” She tilted her head to one side.

  “I snagged a horse from your stables,” he admitted. “Told the grooms I was going for a ride, just didn’t mention how far of a ride.”

  Emry bit the tip of her tongue. “Think you could snag another one?”

  “With this charming face?” Trez waved his hand in a circle around the front of his head. “Easily.”

  Resisting the urge to hit that charming face, Emry nodded. “Good. You can meet me in the woods across from the palace.”

  :::::

  Never in a hundred years would Emry have found the canteen. To be honest, it had to be some sort of a phenomenon that Trezim had discovered it in the first place.

  Canteen was a loose term. Very loose. Tiny taproom made for the owner and five close friends was a far better description. Even then, five might have been a stretch. There wasn’t even a bar to sit at. The entire room consisted of a square table big enough for four, shoved into one corner with two chairs. Another table sat in the opposite corner with two tapped barrels on top of it. Then three mismatched wood stools in rough shape were scattered around the space – one being not two feet in front of the entrance.

  As for the location of the taproom – honestly taproom even felt like an overstatement – it was in a district Emry would never have guessed.

  When Trezim had called it a canteen, Emry had assumed it to be in the designated tavern and inn portion of Breccan – on its outskirts, leading toward the palace. Emry had searched that district extensively.

  But no, this literal hole-in-the-wall place was in a strip of townhomes at the heart of Breccan. Its entrance was a side door to an average, somewhat drab, three-storied end unit townhome. Its wood siding was painted a basic gray, the trim white, the roof green copper.

  It was the most average building and color scheme in Breccan. There was nothing Heerth about it. There wasn’t even a sign above the taproom’s entrance. Just a carved, faded yellow sun above its door. And no place for a horse.

  They’d had to stable their animal at a fancy restaurant for a fair amount of coin about five blocks away. Emry was glad she’d chosen her ankle boots instead of the slippers that matched her dress. Those would have been ruined real fast.

  By the time they reached the little sun door, the actual sun was setting. Emry’s stomach was gurgling with hunger. Trez had promised they’d eat inside. But now that Emry was inside with just two old men sipping from chipped clay mugs, she whirled to Trezim. Ready to snap at him.

  He ignored her look. Instead, he said in Heerth to the men, “Has the sun set kindly on your day?” It was the Heerth equivalent of good evening.

  The one nearest – a slouching Gray – raised his mug in a small salute and responded in kind, “It has. And yourself?”

  “I have sat beneath pleasanter sun rays,” Trez confessed, meaning he’d seen better days. Such an absurd Heerth phrase.

  The Gray’s companion – a squat little Blue with skin resembling wrinkled leather – nodded in understanding. “Perhaps this will brighten your mood.”

  With that, the Blue set his mug on the table and stood. He faced the back wall, and with both hands pressed against it, he slid th
e wall to the left.

  Emry stared. It was a trick wall. Emry had heard of them before – doors that were the length of a wall in appearance, their seams in corners so as to go unnoticed. It was her first time seeing one in person. The door slid back to reveal another wood paneled wall. In the middle of the wood wall, behind the sliding door, was a regular door painted a bright yellow.

  Trez smiled at the men, taking Emry’s cold hand in his own cool one. “May your night be as bright as day.”

  “And yours,” the Brown intoned.

  Emry let Trez lead her through the yellow door, smiling to the men as she passed. It wasn’t until she was on the other side of the threshold that she saw where the door had taken them. Emry gaped. Flat out gaped.

  Someone had hollowed out the inside of the row of townhomes. The entire first floor. All eight houses. From the side she was on, all the way to the other. Columns in the middle of the path were the only hint of where one house ended and another began. A set of wide green-railed stairs sat at the far end. But in between Emry and those stairs–

  Booths of goods. On either side, lining the walls. No, not just any goods – food. All of the booths were food vendors, and they smelled absolutely delicious. Emry’s mouth watered. Before she knew what she was doing, her feet began to move, her hand dragging Trezim behind her. She was vaguely aware of him chuckling. She didn’t care. She was hungry, and she needed syrup biscuits. Real Heerth ones. She’d been craving them for months. Yet, there was a stall selling skewered meats. She came to a halt – Trez’s chest brushing against her back.

  “Is this what you want?” Trez said into her ear, his breath brushing her hair.

  “This, then biscuits.” Emry nodded.

  Twenty minutes later, both Trez and Emry’s hands were filled with food. A skewer of steaming spiced chicken for each of them, two wrapped biscuits and syrup for Emry, a flaky layered pastry for Trez, and a paper cone filled with rice and curry for Emry. She’d had to purchase some flatbread to be able to eat the curry with her hands. Which was fine by her. It’d been too long since she’d had a good curry.