by Katy Haye
And Lyo was impatient to leave Muirland. The situation in Surran grew more dire by the day. If the marriage went ahead and the armies of Surran and Muirland combined, King Zalar was sure to deal with the rebellion from his own people before he waged war on the fae. He couldn’t let that happen. It was a collateral matter to discover that Muirland’s maids were too … distracting for his peace of mind. The sooner he had the egg safely in his hands, the sooner they could leave Scopgot Lane and return to the prince. That’s why he’d shut the door on Kiri’s protests and headed for the palace.
Getting over the wall into the palace grounds had been easier than he’d supposed. Maybe that success made him clumsy. Maybe he’d been distracted looking for a maid with Nordin-blue eyes. Either way, he hadn’t seen the guard until the man had kicked Lyo’s legs out from beneath him. The guard’s foot landed in the small of his back while a whistle blew overhead. Lyo twisted, trying to look up at the sky so he could send a prayer to the gods, but his reward was a punch to the face that smashed his head back against the ground.
The gods had answered enough prayers for him already. He shouldn’t be surprised that they expected him to solve his own problems now. Even without the gods, he wasn’t entirely on his own. He might have failed tonight, but Pell and Kiri both knew as much as he did about the palace. They’d be able to complete the mission.
Guards gathered around him. A voice called that the king was on his way. He hadn’t thought the king himself would bother with a Surrana thief who hadn’t actually taken anything yet. This must be his day to rub shoulders with the rich and powerful.
Noise swelled as a crowd grew. Most of the staff in the palace seemed to have assembled to watch his capture, although the faces surrounding him looked curious rather than threatening.
He scanned the crowd, looking for a face he would recognise, seeking the maid who’d helped him. Not that he expected her to act now. She was brave, but to intervene before the king wouldn’t be brave, it would be suicidal.
There was no sign of her. Until… That was interesting. Not the maid, but another young woman with the scent of magic marking her out from her companions. Hmm. What was the likelihood of there being two witches at the palace? His breath caught as he took in the girl’s appearance and realised the truth of the matter.
He shifted so he was looking straight ahead once more and wouldn’t draw attention to the young woman by staring. Just when he’d given up hope, the gods handed him something precious. He now possessed a secret that would shake Muirland, and a shaken nation would provide a poor ally for Surran.
Perhaps the evening hadn’t been a complete disaster after all.
13 – A Confession
“Wait, Princess!” the guard called out as I barged past him. When I didn’t stop, he hurried after me. I was stopping for nothing and nobody.
When I burst out of the thrown-open doors, the courtyard was thronged with guards as well as most of the palace servants. Flares had been lit to illuminate the scene, casting shadows which made everyone look strange and unfamiliar.
The fright and the run made me nauseous, but as I scanned the crowds and found them all dressed in royal livery my heart began to jump with a hope that the guard had got it wrong. They hadn’t found Lyo. It was a mistake, or a training exercise, or they thought the thief was one of the guards. My pulse surged. Lyo wasn’t here. All would be well. But I had to be sure. I’d have to set eyes on each person in the courtyard before I could truly believe Lyo was safe.
I pushed against the guards, but they were so intent on their orders that they barely noticed me, and none gave way.
“The king!” the steward’s booming voice cried out, and the guards fell back. My father strode through the doors and a path abruptly opened between the guards, leading from the doorway to a single, ordinarily-dressed figure who I could see quite clearly now.
His burnished skin and his slender height set him apart from the Muirland guards who stood either side of him.
He had the same lithe grace that I’d noticed before, although the blackening around his eyes and the blood drying below his nose were new. I felt a spike of admiration. He clearly hadn’t given in easily. But mostly I just felt cold dread. I hadn’t reached him in time, and now he’d been caught. I’d failed him.
His clothes were dirty and ripped, the damage to his face was clear, and his hands were bound behind his back.
“Your Majesty.” The captain of the guards bowed to my father. “We found this … villain attempting to gain access to the palace.” He signalled to the men standing either side of Lyo, holding his arms. They forced him forward and kicked the backs of his legs to push him to his knees before my father.
My heart felt as though it might burst. I had to stop this. What could I do?
In contrast, Lyo seemed calm. He glanced at the king, then let his gaze stray around the crowd. His eyes rested on me for a moment. I probably stood out as much as he did – the only woman in a crowd of men. His gaze didn’t move on, his eyes widening as he looked at me. Shock rooted me in place at the sudden certainty that he’d recognised me. That wasn’t possible. He’d never seen my face, my real face. And yet, hadn’t I thought it before – if he could smell an invisible dragonette, why wouldn’t he be able to see through my disguises and smell my magic – whatever it was that smelled of. Not fire and berries, that was for sure.
I wrenched my gaze away, afraid that someone else would see my face and read in my expression that I recognised the thief, a Surranese criminal I had no cause to ever meet.
Father swaggered slowly between the guards, his gaze on Lyo, his expression mean. He’d lost something he held dear, and now he had someone to blame, someone to punish. My mouth dried. It should be me, bound and beaten, kneeling before him, not Lyo.
“This is the thief?” Father stopped a short way from Lyo. He was close enough that he could kick the captive if he chose, but far enough that Lyo couldn’t reach him with his hands bound.
“That’s right, Sire.” The captain of the guard was almost preening. I swear he was thinking of the bonus he might get, simply because he happened to be on duty when Lyo was discovered.
Father propped his hands on his hips, glaring at the young man kneeling before him. His lip curled. “No one steals from the king. I sentence you to death. Sentence to be carried out at dawn.”
He turned to go.
A rushing noise filled my head. No! It couldn’t end like that. I wouldn’t let it. “Wait, Father.”
He swung to face me. His expression couldn’t have been more surprised if one of the gargoyles on the roof had leaned down to address him.
“Daughter? Go to your room, this is not a matter for women.”
“No, listen, please.” I tried to voice my objections in a way my father could accept, a way that wouldn’t challenge his authority. “You are the king,” I pointed out. “And a worthy leader to all the people of Muirland.” He shifted, but he didn’t tell me to be silent. I continued while I had the chance. “What proof do we have of this young man’s guilt? Your commitment to justice is renowned across the kingdom, and I know you would not deny that same justice to those who are newcomers to our land. He might have been discovered in the palace grounds tonight, but do we have any proof that he is the one who took the dragonette yesterday?”
Father’s expression darkened. I forced myself not to shrink back. This was Lyo. I couldn’t turn my back and let him take the blame for what I’d done. “Punish him for what he is guilty of, by all means. But to punish a man for what he hasn’t done would be a grave injustice and a blot on your reputation.”
“You will hold your tongue, daughter.” He advanced on me, his hand rising. My heart sank. I was about to receive my punishment for speaking out of turn. And it wouldn’t change Lyo’s fate.
“Of course it was me!” Lyo’s lilting voice rang out, causing Father to swing towards him. All eyes were on him. He continued boastfully. “We Surranese have skills you can’t even begin t
o imagine. Reaching the palace was as easy as a child’s game. No house in this city is safe if I wish to enter.”
“No.” My protest was more of a moan. It certainly wasn’t loud enough to drown out Lyo’s stupid words. Why was he saying these things? I was trying to help him.
He wasn’t even looking at me. He was glaring at the king, a triumphant smile dancing at the edges of his mouth. I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see him, but that didn’t stop me hearing what he said. “I took your pet as a protest that you would marry your daughter to the monster who sits illegally on the Surran throne. King Zalar is a murderer, and a traitor to the Surran people. No good will come to him, nor to any who support him. He will be struck down by the gods, and the rightful king will take his place.”
Father swung, delivering the blow he’d intended for me to Lyo instead. His head snapped to the side. I winced.
Father turned his head, giving me a sour look. “A confession. Is that sufficient for you, Princess?”
“Yes, Father.” There was no other answer I could give. I swallowed. Lyo had taken that blow, but I was sure Father would find others for me. I’d argued with him in front of witnesses. I couldn’t expect there not to be repercussions.
He stood tall, addressing Lyo. “For thieving, your hands will be removed. And for treason against Muirland, you will be beheaded.” He switched his attention to the captain. “Not at dawn, though. Lock him up. His punishment will be carried out on market day, at midday, in city square. My people should witness how their king protects them from criminal newcomers.”
I swallowed down my horror at Father’s brutality. This was good, I told myself. Two days until market day was better than a few hours until dawn. It gave me time to figure out a plan to save him.
If I could think through the terror that had gripped me at Father’s sentence.
Lyo was dragged away by his guards, vanishing around the corner. I wanted to follow, but I had no excuse to do so and I was well aware I’d tested my father too far already today.
The bustle of the courtyard settled as the guards returned to their posts. I turned to leave as the crowd thinned. I took two steps towards the door into the palace, then froze. Standing beside the ornate doors was Mage Redmor, watching me with a considering expression.
The strange ceremony flooded my memory. He’d performed magic that should have made me biddable. And barely hours later I’d stood in the palace courtyard arguing with my father, the king. I swallowed, feeling cold as blood drained from my face. I schooled my expression and forced myself to keep walking steadily. When I reached his side, I paused long enough to dip a respectful curtsy.
“Good evening, sir.”
I was about to move on when he gripped my arm. I looked up, startled, and met his gaze. He jutted his chin, inspecting me, muttering something under his breath. I felt magic tickle my skin. I had no idea how to push suspicion away from me.
I simply behaved as normally as I could manage. “I wish you goodnight.” I nodded my head and took a step forward, tugging my arm subtly from his grip.
“Goodnight, Princess.”
I didn’t look back, but I felt his cold gaze on me long after he should have been out of sight.
14 – Out of Place
I paced my room while my thoughts whirled like frantic, trapped birds. I couldn’t let Lyo’s execution take place, and yet, there was nothing I could do to stop it. I might as well be a caged bird myself, for all the power I wielded.
Lyo was going to die. Lyo was going to die, and it was all because of me.
I crossed to my door and ducked to look through the keyhole. I wasn’t surprised to see a guard’s dark livery blotting out the view. I was being guarded, even though Lyo was safely locked up. The guard was probably there at my father’s instruction. My mother believed me biddable – although she wouldn’t think that once she heard about my protest.
But my door wasn’t the only way out. I’d been willing to try the window when I thought I could warn Lyo, and his need was greater now.
With the window open, I sketched a plan. There were cells in the palace, dug into the stone of the cellars. I was sure Lyo would be there, rather than in the prison on the other side of the city. My father would want him close to ensure nothing could go wrong between now and market day. I shivered.
There was a ledge that ran outside beneath my window. I hoped that would suffice for what I needed. Since Lyo was inside the palace, I didn’t need to get all the way down to the lawns, I just needed to get around the guard outside my door. And I could do that if I reached my brother’s rooms at the other end of this floor and got inside there.
I had to hope that either my brother wouldn’t be there, or that he might be willing to help me if he was. I was more hopeful of the former. Jaran rarely spent time in his room. Life was different for a prince. He’d be in the gym, sparring with his trainers, or downstairs playing nine dragons’ gold with other members of the court. He might even have gone into the city to drink and play cards in one of the inns. Granted, he’d have a bodyguard with him if he left the palace, but his guards were close to his own age and more like friends. My guards would never qualify for that term.
The ledge was narrower than I remembered. It was barely wider than my foot. Lyo is going to die. As wide as my foot would have to be wide enough. I turned my attention to the palace grounds. No guards patrolled the lawns. Security had been scaled back now the thief had been discovered. When I craned down, I could see men posted at the corners of the palace, but they stood with their backs against the wall. Provided I didn’t cause them to look up, they should have no idea that I was there.
And now I was stalling, because I was scared. I’d only slipped in and out of the palace before, using a disguise rather than any gymnastic abilities. But if I was scared, Lyo was probably terrified.
I took a deep breath and stepped out of the safety of my room, pulling the shutters behind me so a quick glance would show them as undisturbed. The wind tugged at my hair and my skirt as I stepped onto the ledge, as though it took pleasure in making my task as difficult as possible. I leaned my shoulder against the wall and began to shuffle my way forward.
First came a long expanse of stone. That was relatively easy to cross and my fear began to dissipate. Unfortunately, Mother’s rooms lay between mine and Jaran’s, and the next thing I reached was the first of three windows. Like mine, they reached down to the ledge, and unlike Jaran’s, they were always kept tight shut.
With them closed I couldn’t use them to get inside, and there was no chance I could crouch down and crawl past without being seen – not that I thought my acrobatic skills were sufficient to allow me to balance on my knees anyway. Even the shutters were folded back, letting what light remained into the room. On the inside, the drapes had been pulled back. There was nothing to interrupt the view.
I scanned the interior. Mother didn’t seem to be there. A smile began to tug at my lips. If the room was empty, I could – but no. As I watched, a maid came bustling in with clean laundry. I pressed back against the stone wall, my heart pounding. I shifted cautiously, so I could see what was going on inside. If the maid just put away her burdens and left, she might be gone in less than a minute.
I peered carefully inside, keeping myself hidden. She didn’t just put the laundry away. Instead, another maid joined her and they began to change the bed. Five minutes, then. I changed my estimate and glanced around, checking that the lawns and gardens remained undisturbed. I was still unseen.
I was also starting to shiver. When I wasn’t moving, the wind was colder than it had seemed a minute ago. I flexed my fingers and toes. I couldn’t afford for anything to go numb. Then, I risked another glance into my mother’s rooms. The bedroom was empty now, the maids gone. I sighed in relief and shuffled my way to the next window.
Both of the remaining two windows looked into my mother’s sitting room, where she entertained her close friends. Fortunately, she wasn’t entertaining right now
. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean the room was empty. My mother was sitting in a wing chair by the empty fireplace. She was bent over something in her lap. I couldn’t let her see me. I didn’t want to know what she might do if she saw me misbehaving after she’d watched Mage Redmor make me biddable. I was quite sure she’d consider the failure of the spell to be my fault and not his. But curiosity held me in place. I couldn’t get past until she moved away, and I wanted to know what she was doing.
Her fingers moved nimbly. Needlework? She filled a lot of her dull hours with that. But I couldn’t see any fabric. I kept watching, noticing for the first time that her lips were moving, too. I stilled. Prayers? Surely not. Praying to the old gods wasn’t forbidden, not exactly. But Mother would be ridiculed if anyone found out.
The breeze raised the hairs on the back of my neck as though an insect were walking on my skin. I held back a shiver. Then I realised the sensation wasn’t due to the breeze. It was the same feeling I’d had when Mage Redmor had cast his spells.
Mother wasn’t praying, she was spellcasting. Terror thrilled through me and I wished I had caught her worshipping dead gods after all. No one would kill you for praying, but they would for this. Why would she do something so stupid? I peered closer, trying to see what was in her lap.
Instead of the chill of the wind, I now felt the heat of resentment. Mother had beaten me when she’d discovered I had magic. I understood now that she had done so for my sake, to prevent a child being sentenced to death. But she’d made me feel like a freak. She could have told me that she shared the secret. It must be her I’d got it from, a direct line from my half-fae grandmother, but she’d left me feeling as though there were something wrong with me. My own magic rose up with my anger and I tamped it down. I had no need to change my face now, and there was nothing else I knew how to do with my magic.
Abruptly, Mother lifted the thing in her lap and I could see it. A string of beads, sparkling in the light. It was identical to the one she’d given me before Mage Redmor cast spells over me. She was no longer chanting, she was smiling as she regarded her handiwork. My breath whistled and my thoughts whirled. The bracelet she’d given me was enchanted.