by Jayne Castel
“Hello, Ryana,” he replied, setting down the lantern at his feet. He then gave her a long, searching look. “I did warn you about the welcome you’d receive here.”
“You did … but I had to do this.”
Silence fell between them, stretching out, broken only by the dripping of water at the back of one of the cells.
Asher eventually huffed out a sigh before running a hand over his face. “Saul just tried to take the stone from Lilia.”
Ryana moved, the thud of her boots sounding on the stone floor as she stiffly rose to her feet and crossed to the bars. “Did he—”
Asher shook his head. “She shifted and fought him off. He jumped out the garden room window and fled. Lilia still has The King Breaker.”
“Where’s he now?”
“We’ve got enchanters out looking for him.”
Ryana pulled a face. “You’ll never catch Saul … he’s too slippery.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Asher replied. He suddenly felt weary. Since returning to The Royal City, he’d barely rested. “He’s not important now, anyway … it’s Lilia everyone’s focusing on.” He met Ryana’s gaze. “Thrindul’s taking her and the stone to the king tomorrow morning.”
Ryana stared back at him, her expression suddenly stricken. “I wanted to keep Lilia’s secret hidden. I didn’t think Saul would betray her.”
Asher released a heavy breath. “You know what will happen to her,” he said softly. “The king won’t suffer a shifter to live … and The King Breaker is too dangerous to risk. He’ll just take the stone by force.”
Ryana’s throat bobbed. She moved toward him, reached out, and gripped the bars to her cell. “You can’t let this happen,” she whispered. “Lilia hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“She’s a shifter, Ryana. Folk fear her kind.”
“Only because they know no better,” she countered, her blue-grey eyes hard now. “Their fear comes from centuries of blind prejudice. I’ve traveled with Lilia … I know there’s no malice in her.”
Asher shook his head. “I see that too, but there’s nothing we can do.”
Her fingers clenched around the iron bars. “There’s nothing I can do locked up here.” Her voice developed an urgent edge. “But you’re free, Asher. You can help her.”
He stiffened, suddenly wishing he hadn’t made the trip down to the Vault. He’d forgotten that Ryana wasn’t a rule follower. As apprentices, she’d gotten him into countless trouble. He’d once had to scrub the feasting hall floors for a week after Ryana had dared him to kiss one of the kitchen maids. He’d done more than that—and Thrindul himself had found Asher and the girl entangled in a passage behind the library.
“I can’t go against the Order,” he said finally, his voice hardening.
Ryana’s gaze held his. “Not even to save a life?”
Lilia picked at her supper and sipped a cup of watered-down wine before retiring for the night. Even though she’d slept most of the day away, she suddenly felt bone-weary.
There was nothing else to do but sleep in this cell anyway. Apart from when servants had been admitted with her meals, she’d seen no one. She didn’t know where Dain was, or even if he was still in the House of Light and Darkness. After the morning’s incident, Thrindul might have decided to send him away immediately.
Despair settled over Lilia at the thought.
I didn’t even get to say goodbye.
Lilia’s vision blurred then, although the fatigue that had settled over her made it difficult to focus on her feelings. She felt as if she could sleep for days.
Even so, the thought of never seeing Dain again made her chest ache. There was so much she wanted to say to him, and now she’d never get the chance.
Stripping down to a thin linen tunic, Lilia climbed under the covers and lay down upon the hard straw pallet. For a few moments she lay there, trying to concentrate on Dain. However, her thoughts were growing increasingly foggy. She had meant to reach across and extinguish the lantern that burned on the table next to her pallet, but couldn’t summon the will to do so.
Exhaustion pulled her down into its waiting arms, and moments later she was sleeping deeply.
It was some time later when a draft of cold air feathered across Lilia’s face, waking her from a dream. She’d been back at The Grey Anchor, listening to Ryana sing of kings and queens past.
She woke slowly, emerging from the fog of sleep with difficulty, as if she were wading through a bog on a misty morning and could only see a hand-span before her.
The mist cleared, and Lilia blinked, bringing her surroundings into focus.
She wasn’t alone in the room.
A face was staring down at her—a young man with chubby cheeks and blond hair that flopped over one eye.
Brand.
Lilia stifled a gasp and opened her mouth to order him out of her room. Yet she found she could not form the words—it was as if a great boulder sat on her chest, pinning her to the pallet.
Watching her, Brand merely smiled.
30
Another Chance
“Lily … Lilia!”
The voice reached her from afar. She stood in the midst of a deep, dark wood, and it seemed as though someone was standing on the edge of it shouting her name.
“Lily, can you hear me?”
Strong hands fastened around her shoulders and shook her gently. The darkness rolled back, and she was no longer standing surrounded by an oppressive wall of trees, but instead lying upon her back on a hard pallet, her limbs chilled and her temples pounding.
Her eyes flickered open, and she looked up into Dain’s face. Worry creased his brow, his dark-blue eyes clouded. She stared up at him a moment, confused, before memories of the night before flooded back.
She gasped and reached to her throat, fumbling for the necklace she had worn for months now.
The King Breaker was gone.
An aching sense of loss swamped her. Panic swept over her in a hot tide.
“Brand,” she choked out the name. “He took the stone.”
Her gaze returned to Dain, who was still watching her steadily. “I know,” he murmured.
It was then she realized they were not alone in the room. A cluster of enchanters stood behind Dain, their expressions grim. Asher and Irana were among them.
Dain, who was seated on the edge of the bed, turned to Asher. “Are you sure she’s well?”
The enchanter frowned. “He cast a sleep charm over her, a powerful one.” Asher’s attention shifted to Lilia. “I’ll need to work on you for a bit … or you risk falling into a deep sleep you may never wake from.”
Lilia nodded, although she found it hard to focus. She ran a hand over her face, trying to force down the grief at losing The King Breaker. She felt hollowed out, as if a stiff breeze could blow through her. She felt as if she’d woken up to find a limb amputated.
“I dreamed I was traveling through a great forest and couldn’t find the way out,” she rasped.
“Sleep charms create a world for the dreamer,” he replied. “You would have continued to sleep on for days if we hadn’t found you … although you’d likely have died of thirst first.”
Lilia sat up and immediately regretted it as a wave of nausea swamped her. “How long has it been?”
“A few hours.” Irana stepped forward. Her gaze was hard and accusing as it met Lilia’s. “He killed the other enchanters guarding you.”
Lilia’s gaze traveled over the group of faces surrounding her. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do we,” Irana growled. “Thrindul has taken out a group to search for him, but he’ll already have a head-start on them.”
“Has Thrindul forgotten the audience with the king?” Asher asked, frowning.
“He’ll be back for that,” Irana snapped. She then cast a dismissive glance around the chamber. Two enchanters of the Light had brought up baskets of medicines from the Hall of Healing to assist Asher. They now waited a few feet away. When her attention rest
ed upon the Head of the Light, Irana scowled. “How long till the shifter can stand up?”
“It shouldn’t take too long,” he replied tersely, waving her away. “Go and get yourself some breakfast. I’ll bring her down shortly.”
Irana hesitated. “I’d prefer not to let her out of my sight.”
Asher raised an eyebrow. “She’s hardly a danger to anyone in her current state.” He then gestured to the two enchanters behind him. “Plus, she’s outnumbered. Go on.”
“I’ll meet you in the feasting hall,” Irana replied, still frowning. “Do what you must to get the shifter on her feet. I don’t care what state she’s in … only that she can walk unassisted into the throne room.”
Asher nodded. “Understood.”
Listening to the two enchanters, Lilia’s temper rose. How dare they discuss her as if she wasn’t even present? Seated next to her, Dain was scowling.
As soon as Irana left the chamber, Asher turned to the enchanters behind him. “Mix up an energy elixir,” he ordered. “Make it a strong one.”
The two young men nodded, crossing to the baskets by the window behind them that were laden with vials, bottles, and pouches. Murmuring together, they started measuring out the ingredients into a small pestle and mortar.
With their backs turned, Asher beckoned to Dain, encouraging him to lean close.
Still scowling, Dain did as bid, although Lilia could see that he was bristling with tension, his gaze hard.
“We don’t have much time,” Asher whispered, his expression suddenly urgent. “First thing’s first … I need you to knock those two out.”
Dain’s eyes widened, while Lilia’s breathing hitched. It took a few moments for her to realize that Asher was helping them.
Asher frowned, impatient now. “Go on.”
Rising to his feet, Dain moved.
He was fast. Lilia knew he’d once spent his spare evenings fighting for coin in Port Needle, and yet it still shocked her when he grabbed both young men by the necks and smashed their heads together.
A sickening, dull thud echoed across the room, and the two enchanters crumpled to the flagstone floor.
Lilia gasped, staring at them. “Are they—”
“No,” Dain replied, moving back toward the sleeping pallet. “They’ll both wake up sooner than I’d like.” His attention shifted to Asher, who’d risen to his feet. “What now?”
“Take Lilia and go,” Asher replied. “Leave this room, turn left … and you’ll find a service stairwell at the end of the corridor. It leads down into the kitchens.” Asher tensed then. “You’ll probably need to fight your way past the servants to get out … but it’ll be easier than facing enchanters.”
Dain nodded, helping Lilia to her feet. “Then what?”
Reaching into a pocket in his robes, Asher extracted a silver talent, which he passed to Lilia. “Keep off The King’s Way,” he warned. “Take the first set of stairs to the left of this building instead. They’ll take you straight down to the gates to the lower town. There, look for an establishment called ‘The Black Boar Inn’ and get yourselves lodgings. I’ll meet you in the common room after supper.”
“I thought I wasn’t well enough to walk?” Lilia asked, finally finding her tongue.
Asher’s mouth curved. “You’re fine … that was just for Irana’s benefit. You’ll feel a little light-headed at first, but it’ll wear off shortly.”
On the floor, one of the enchanters groaned softly. Lilia’s heart leaped. He was coming to.
“Go,” Asher ordered, before his gaze shifted to Dain. The enchanter’s features tightened. “You’d better smack me over the back of the head too … or it’ll look suspicious.”
They fled down the narrow stairwell, slipping and stumbling in their haste to reach the bottom.
Heart pounding, Lilia followed Dain into the kitchens. It felt strange not to have The King Breaker with her. Now that the shock had faded, she felt lighter somehow—unburdened.
As Asher had warned, there were people in the kitchens: two cooks and a cluster of assistants and serving maids. Fortunately though, they had the element of surprise. Grasping Lilia’s hand, Dain plowed past where two women were rolling out pastry.
One of the cooks, a big man with burly arms, tried to intercept them, but one punch to the solar plexus made him give way. An assistant made a grab for Lilia. Snatching up a rolling pin, Lilia fended the woman off.
Moments later they were sprinting up the steps, out of the kitchen, and down the passageway to the entrance hall. Shouts echoed against the stone walls behind them. Lilia’s breathing caught as panic seized her. They had to get away before someone raised the alarm.
Diving out into The King’s Way, they shot left to the narrow set of stairs Asher had mentioned. Lilia clung to Dain’s hand, fear giving her feet wings.
This was their one chance for escape—they couldn’t mess it up.
The stairs were steep, the stone damp from the drizzle that fell steadily, casting a grey veil over the morning. Dain’s grip on Lilia’s hand tightened as they flew down the steps. They zig-zagged their way down the hill, quickly reaching the bottom.
Reaching the vast square behind the gates, Lilia was relieved to discover that it was market morning. A sea of awnings covered the wide area. A grey drizzle fell silently over the market, but the weather hadn’t put shoppers off. A bustling, if slightly subdued, crowd thronged the square.
Dain and Lilia pushed their way into the midst and headed toward the gates.
Still clinging to Dain’s hand, Lilia found herself glancing back over her shoulder, in the direction of The King’s Way. There, she spied a group of figures, clad in smoke-grey and charcoal robes, elbowing their way through the edge of the crowd.
“Enchanters,” she hissed. “We need to get through the gates.”
“Right,” Dain grunted, quickening his pace.
A donkey cart, laden with colorful bolts of fabric, was parked in the gateway. The merchant leading it was arguing with the two guards stationed there.
“I always sell at this market,” he insisted, his face puce with outrage. “Let me through!”
“Not unless you show us your pass,” one of the guards answered.
“I don’t need one.”
“Everyone who sells here needs a pass. They cost two silver talents a year.”
“That’s extortionate!”
“That’s the price.”
Dain and Lilia slowed their pace, linking arms. Lilia plastered a smile on her face, as if she was merely out for a morning walk with her lover. Together, they edged by the irate merchant and his bored-looking donkey. Neither of the irritated guards looked their way.
As soon as they were out of sight of the gates, Dain and Lilia ran.
It was easier to hide in the labyrinthine streets of the lower town. Unlike the pristine cobbled ways of the upper town and the gleaming facades of townhouses, The Royal City’s poorer streets were dirty, loud, and thronged with people. Many of the streets were unpaved, washing hung festooned over alleyways, and beggars slumped in doorways calling out to passersby.
They’d just taken a narrow alley, both out of breath from running, when Dain stopped.
Turning to Lilia, he pushed her back against the rough stone wall behind her, his mouth slanting over hers. The suddenness of his kiss shocked Lilia, but she soon recovered. Sighing against his mouth, she reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Dain groaned and deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers. When they pulled apart, Lilia’s head spun from lack of air.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for days,” Dain rasped. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t get another chance.”
“Last night, I thought I’d never see you again,” she whispered. “I was sure Thrindul must have sent you away.”
“I wasn’t going anywhere.” Reaching out, Dain cupped her cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing her lower lip. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and Lilia’s breathing q
uickened. Her body felt molten. She ached for him to kiss her again. “Not with you locked up in that place.”
Their gazes fused, and warmth spread through Lilia’s chest. However, this wasn’t the heat that preceded shifting but something else—something that made her throat constrict and her gaze mist.
“Dain,” she began. “I—”
“Come on.” Dain drew back from Lilia, cutting her off. “We can’t linger here. Let’s find out where The Black Boar Inn is.”
They found their destination in a dingy backstreet. A tall thin building made of timber and stone, the inn had a battered sign hanging above the door that bore a painting of what appeared an enraged boar charging a hunter.
Inside, the common room was poorly lit and filled with men in hunting leathers, dicing and smoking pipes. A low ceiling made the room feel even more oppressive—as did the bunches of dried herbs and hag stones hanging from the rafters.
Lilia and Dain shared a relieved smile. Asher had chosen the perfect place for them to hide.
The inn-keeper let them a room, and they made their way up a series of creaking wooden steps to the top floor. Lilia stepped into a sparsely furnished yet clean space with scrubbed floors, white-washed walls, and a decent-sized sleeping pallet. A tiny window looked out over a sea of tiled roofs. Outside, the clouds had lowered even further. A cool breeze wafted in, cooling Lilia’s flushed cheeks.
She couldn’t believe they’d made it out—that Asher had helped them.
She didn’t understand why.
Turning to Dain, she met his gaze. Like her, he was still recovering from their race to escape the enchanters. His hair was damp with sweat, and it stuck up in all directions when he raked a hand through it. However, he was grinning.
“We did it, Lily.”
“Aye … we did.”
Lilia’s breathing quickened. She was now acutely aware that they were alone together. All she could think about was how he’d kissed her in that alley—and how she longed to tell him what lay in her heart. He stepped close now, and Lilia sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm the wild beating of her heart. Their bodies were almost touching.