“Wait,” she said.
Rose clenched her jaw against the burning pain in her arms and kept searching through the castle. Again, she felt the surge of energy, and through her magic it sounded like a pop. Rose sent her senses flying toward the sound and a small moan slipped through at the effort.
“There,” she gasped against the pain. She spoke to the stunned people while focusing on keeping her vision on the bent man she found in a dark room. “There is a dark-haired man. Something is wrong with him.”
Rose spotted the Light Horse insignia on the man’s linen shirt. “One of your officers, captain. The room smells like,” Rose paused against the pain, “smoke.”
Rose collapsed against her pillows with another gasp of pain. Her arms quivered from the pain and sweat poured down her face, mixing with tears. “He’s in the far northern wing. The room looked like an empty storage room.”
Captain Sayla sprung up and was outside as soon as Rose finished speaking. Rose forced herself to breathe through her nose. The previously healing wounds on her wrist were red and inflamed all over again. Captain Sayla returned to the room and held a wet cloth to Rose’s wrist. Rose gasped with pain then sighed as the wet cloth cooled the burn. She could smell the herbs from her tea on the cloth.
“Would someone please explain what just happened?” The stunned king spoke with wide eyes.
Captain Sayla answered before Rose. “It must be Sam. He must have been experimenting with his gift again. I’ve told him not to without supervision.”
Rose frowned at her. More people with magic? And they knew about it?
Captain Sayla saw her confused look and she elaborated. “He can control fire. Not create it, but he can manipulate it. He could manipulate it if he ever learns control,” she corrected herself.
Rose took a deep breath, confused by this woman’s open acceptance of magic. She looked back at her and raised her aching wrist. “What did that cuff do to me?”
Captain Sayla shrugged. “Cirkus Steel. The metal is rare and we’ve lost the knowledge to smith more. Some of the mage scholars believe it to be tied to the Revast Clan and their ancient metalwork. Although how I don’t know. I’m sure you’ve noticed it rejects your magic?”
Rose nodded slowly.
“It rejects all magic. Magic cannot work on it, be done to it, near it, or while wearing it. It is a null. It burns, blisters. It can kill you if you wear it long enough. I’m surprised you haven’t encountered it before now; or at least heard of it. Now, will you please explain how you knew about Sam?”
Rose again ignored her question. “What did you mean when you said I wasn’t hiding my thoughts in the throne room?”
The captain pressed her lips shut and folded her arms. She leaned back against the wall and remained silent.
“Do not demand my secrets when you will not tell your own,” Rose huffed and leaned back against her pillows.
The king turned to Captain Sayla with a small chuckle. “I think you’ve finally met your match, Captain.”
“She is a stubborn one,” Captain Sayla agreed.
“And there are a great many in this castle who will say the same about you, my friend,” he chuckled.
The captain grinned and didn’t bother to correct him.
Rose huddled her burning wrist to her chest, groaned at the lukewarm tea seeping into her lap, and dropped her head back.
The king patted her shoulder. “I’ll fetch Rita and leave you to rest.”
Chapter 8
Days later, Madame Rita finally decided to move Rose out of the Healer’s Wing and into her own room. Rose suspected the captain had something to do with it. Rose had been moved into a small obscure wing at the other end of the castle. As she walked through the corridors, always followed by a guard, she noticed several people wearing the insignia for the Light Horse.
Rose paced her small room, bare of anything more than a bed, trunk, and desk. The guards were still standing across from her door. The fever left her weak, and her wrist was still covered in healing wounds. Rose had slept much of the past few days, but she was finally getting her strength back and she wanted to test the limits of her new freedom.
Rose cracked open the door and peered outside. As she expected, her two silent guards stood at the end of the hall. Just before she closed her door, Rose saw Captain Sayla watching her from down the corridor. She paused before stepping back into the corridor with the thought to steal a small knife from the kitchens. She slipped outside and started toward the kitchens. A quick peek over her shoulder showed her the guard following at a discreet distance. Rose wandered through the hallways lined with doors. A lazy turn down another corridor brought Rose face to face with Captain Sayla. For a few moments, the two just stared at each other.
Finally, the captain took a step back. “How are you adjusting to your new room?”
“Is it a room or a cell?” Rose pointed over her shoulder at the guards.
“It’s your room. As you’ve noticed, you are free to leave as you wish. I’ve established you are no direct threat and your story seems genuine, but you can’t expect us to trust you more than that yet.”
Rose gave a small nod in acknowledgement. “How long will I be followed? ’Til I leave?”
The captain raised an eyebrow. “You’re leaving?”
Rose straightened. “I can’t?”
Captain Sayla’s mouth curved up in a small smile. “Stop answering my questions with questions.” She held up her hand to stop Rose when she opened her mouth. “You’re not a prisoner, but we strongly wish for you to stay.”
“Why? I know nothing more of the plans.”
“You are the only connection we have to the assassination plan; you don’t know what you know. And I want to know how you found Sam.”
Rose took another step back.
“You saved him from some terrible burns, you know. He’d lost control. Passed out. The fires were starting to spread. At the very least you owe it to let him thank you.”
Rose opened her mouth simply to close it again. She had nowhere else to go and she could disappear any time. Maybe it was worth staying here for a time. What harm could it do? Maybe it was a good idea to stay, find some work, and leave when it suited her best. “I suppose I could stay.”
“If you’ve family awaiting you I can send an Officer to—”
“No,” Rose cut her off. “There’s no need.”
“No one is going to miss you? No one will worry?” Captain Sayla tilted her head a little while she studied Rose’s reaction.
Rose ignored her questions. She simply gave a small nod and continued walking down the corridor past the captain. Sounds of laughter coming from a room piqued her interest, and she turned into the open room. Peeking around the door and easing inside, Rose looked around at the people lounging on the worn and used furniture.
“Hey there, are you lost?”
Rose turned to the man lying across a beaten couch. “No, at least I do not think so.”
“Oh, are you the visitor that has the captain all up in arms?” He sat up with a wild grin on his face. “The captain is cold, calm, and in charge. How did you do it?”
Rose grinned a little and hesitantly sat in an overstuffed armchair. “Do what? I haven’t done anything to your captain.”
“What Erik really means is,” a raven-haired lady near the fire spoke up without looking away from her chess board, “how did you survive the captain’s stare? That look can reduce anyone to a blubbering mess. How did you stand up to that?”
Rose tsked. “I have my own stare.”
“Well, I’m Erik, as Luci over there pointed out. That snoring pile over there by the window is Shaun. And welcome to the Light Room.”
Rose glanced at Shaun and again at Luci, who still hadn’t removed her attentio
n from her chess board, then back at Erik. His coppery red hair was a haphazard mess with locks falling into his eyes. A trail of freckles traveled across the bridge of his nose to either cheek. “The what room?”
“This is the Light Horse Common Room in the Light Horse Wing, our very own wing of the castle; small as it may be. Everyone just calls it the Light Wing for short.”
“And the Light Horse is what, exactly?”
“Glorified couriers,”
Luci muttered from her chess board.
“Uh, well yes, I suppose.” Erik glanced at Luci. “We are trusted with messages to and from the king and the occasional odd errand that doesn’t really fall into any other branch’s purview.”
“Does every branch of the king’s service have a wing?”
Erik fell back against the couch. “No, most have a barracks out on the grounds.”
“Why was I brought here, then? Are guest rooms in this wing as well?”
“Uh . . . no,” Erik sat up again. “Maybe the captain has an interest in you?” It came out sounding like a question.
Rose frowned and folded her arms. “So, you all are Officers in the Light Horse, then?”
“Yes, we are.”
She felt her brows pinch together. Cheeky woman.
“Is it true, then? You’re here because Nico is dead?” Luci finally looked up from her chess board.
Everyone’s eyes fixed on Rose.
She shifted uneasily under all the attention. “Yes. Nico is dead.”
Everyone’s eyes continued to stare at Rose. What did they want her to say? She hardly knew him. She didn’t know how to console them. The door opening saved her from coming up with some half-hearted condolence.
The captain walked into the common room and her eyes fell on Rose sitting in the worn armchair. “You are in my chair, dear.”
Rose raised an eyebrow and curled her legs under herself. “Am I?”
The captain gave a weak, dry laugh. “Are you going to fight me on everything I say?”
Rose let her lips settle into a feral grin. “Probably.”
The captain watched her for a moment, then settled herself on the couch. Erik looked at Rose like she’d done something amazing. His mouth hung open, forgotten. Luci continued to glare down at her game.
“How did Nico die?”
Rose turned to the woman who gripped a chess piece in her hand, her eyes trained on her fist. She thought for a few moments, trying to come up with the best way to tell, it but she settled eventually for the truth. “He was killed in a swordfight.” The image of his torn and broken body flashed back to her. She flinched at the memory and saw the captain almost mimic her movement. Rose watched her, but Captain Sayla wasn’t looking at Rose. The captain was staring at her clenched hands.
“He was a master swordsman. You want me to believe one mercenary killed him?” Luci finally brought her tear-filled eyes to Rose.
“He died saving me,” Rose whispered. “He took what was meant for me.”
“It’s your fault,” Luci hissed.
“That’s enough,” the captain snapped. “No one is at fault but the one who held the knife.”
Rose looked away from the captain. She was at fault, no matter the captain’s words.
Luci snapped her mouth shut against whatever she was going to say. She pushed herself away from her chess board and threw her short coat up and on her shoulders as she passed Rose.
“Don’t mind her,” Erik spoke into the new silence in the room. “She was close to Nico.”
Rose clucked her tongue and shifted in her chair, pulled her borrowed blue coat tighter around her.
The captain asked into the growing silence. “How did you meet him?”
“I was at a tavern.” Rose remembered Nico suddenly appearing at her table and smiled a little. “He asked me for some conversation. He shared a meal with me, and despite my protest he traveled with me.” Her smile was sad as she remembered the kind man. “He said I reminded him of someone worth saving.”
She looked at Captain Sayla and again the look in the woman’s intense stare made her pause. She knew that her telling of this memory of Nico was important to this woman. “Nico was a good man, Captain, and he didn’t deserve the death he had.”
“No, he didn’t.” Captain Sayla sniffed and tried to hide it by rubbing her face. “Please know how grateful we are to you for bringing us this.”
Rose’s brows pinched together. “For bringing you news of his death?”
“No,” Captain said fiercely. “For letting us grieve now instead of wondering for months. You brought us closure.”
“That is more,” Erik spoke with a tone of sincerity that made Rose turn and look at him, “than we can usually hope for. Everyone knows the risks of our duty. We carry important letters from the king. It could have been many more months before we accepted that Nico was not merely overdue to return.”
She thought back to Nico’s words, and the redemption she sought, that he’d offered her. Maybe she’d earned some.
She reluctantly stood from the comfortable, battered chair. “Thank you, Erik. Captain,” she said and retreated from the room. She strode through the wide corridors, ever mindful of the silent guards trailing her. Before long she had left the Light Wing altogether and was ambling her way down a sunlit corridor. She was unsure how far she could go, how much of the castle was open to her. For now, she planned on exploring as much as she could and learning the layout as best she could. She never knew when that knowledge would be needed.
Leaning against the open window, she gazed out over the courtyard. It was pretty here, calm. In the far corner of the courtyard was a garden and Rose could see roses blooming in its center.
Rose glanced around the courtyard through the window, at the horses in the pasture, all the people moving about the yard. This place was so different from anywhere she’d been before. It was loud, and large. So many people wandering in and out and shadows. The noise was making her head hurt. Rose closed her eyes, focused on pushing the shadows away, out of her mind. It had been years since the noise in the shadows overwhelmed her like this.
“Am I intruding?”
With a yelp, Rose jerked away from the wall. “No, ma’am. You startled me.”
Madame Rita gently, but assertively, took Rose’s wrist. “No matter, dear.” She ran steady fingers over the burn-like welts and up and down her arm while making soft appraising sounds. “Healing nicely. You still shouldn’t do whatever it is you do for another day or so; lest you make it worse and then we’re back to the beginning, eh?”
Rose nodded reluctantly. “I’m not going to promise anything.”
“No, no you wouldn’t.” Rita chuckled in her throat. “Even feverish and delusional you fought me like a feral cat! Be silly if you didn’t now.”
Rose ducked her head a little. “I don’t like strangers or . . . I’m sorry if I was too difficult,” she finished poorly.
“No. I’ll wager there are many things you do not like,” Rita murmured with an odd look on her face before patting her shoulder. “But don’t worry girl. I’ve handled far worse and still came out victorious.” Madame Rita gave Rose’s shoulder one last pat before walking away.
Just as she turned the corner behind Rose she yelled, “and don’t do any magic.”
Rose grunted. “Not likely,” she muttered.
Chapter 9
Simone directed her horse to the inn, all but tossing her reins to the small stable boy when she arrived. She ignored the stares from the people in the small yard. Ignored the hushed whisperings as she passed. Let them think what they want about the giant bruise on her cheek; it didn’t affect her.
The tavern was quiet inside, aside from the town’s resident drunkards, and the bartender watched Simone approach with
hard eyes. She dropped coins on the scratched countertop.
“A room.”
He sucked his teeth and tore his eyes away from the dark bruise. He tossed a key next to her coins. Simone scooped up the key and headed to the room number painted on the key. Simone slipped inside and dropped her dirty pack on the floor. The room was clean, which was all she was hoping for. Simone dropped onto the sagging bed and sighed. She was tired, sore. Afraid of the conversation that would come tomorrow.
“Well?”
Simone gasped and shot to her feet. Her eyes searched the dim room, but she was alone.
“I tire of thisss.” The voice hissed at her from the darkness.
“I thought I was meeting with—”
“You are taking too long. And I wasss the one who hired you.” His voice was cold, and it seemed to echo in the small room. “Where is your partner?”
“Dead,” Simone whispered, her hands shaking. This man terrified her. She’d only met him once in person and his face had been hidden. But even then, Simone had wanted to run from the man. Something about his speaking, his . . . the aura around him was off.
“And the spy?”
Simone wrung her hands together. “One dead. He met with another in the woods. She . . . escaped after killing Fabien.”
“Then why are you here and not going after her?”
“She destroyed my mirror! I tracked her as far as I could, but her tracks disappeared.”
Simone’s breath was loud in the quiet room while she waited, her hands quivering. A sharp sound made her jerk as a small metal object slid on the floor toward her from the dark corner. Slowly, Simone bent and picked up the small reflective oval. It fit in the palm of her hand and she felt the faint hum that all Tracer Tools emitted.
“A new mirror. Find the spy!”
“I don’t have—”
“Find her, or do not return.”
Simone sighed, and her breath quivered.
“Things are in motion. Everything is set to coincide with the ball the king is throwing. We do not have time for mistakes.”
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