by RJ Metcalf
“Excellent. Thank you, doctor. Best of luck on your endeavors.” Vincent moved forward and stepped into the dark tunnel, pulling out a luminary crystal as he did so. He turned to face Cole. “You’re coming with me until I’m through with you.”
Cole stepped into the tunnel after him, barely aware of the door sealing shut behind them, trapping him alone in the passageway with Vincent.
Chapter Fifty-One
Clara
Clara paced the length of the couch where Garnet sat, trailing her fingers over the knobby fabric, trying to bleed out her nervous energy. This was simultaneously better and worse than anything she and Andre could have prepared for. It wasn’t an active battle or poison or direct threat to Brandon and Sapphire’s lives. But it was multi-nuanced, with more individuals than they’d ever expected for something against the palace. She pivoted on her heel, marching back toward the bolted door.
Sapphire’s pale skin had an almost translucent quality to it as she stood by the window, gazing down the mob. She chewed her lip absently, her golden-red hair brighter in contrast to her white face. Her knuckles looked bloodless where she gripped her sword handle.
“My lady, you should sit,” Clara suggested.
Sapphire didn’t blink or look away.
Clara turned from the door and spoke sharply. “Sapphire. Sit down.”
This time Clara’s words reached through to her ladyship. Sapphire sucked in a ragged breath, blinking owlishly before nodding and scrambling over toward Garnet, and succumbing to the couch there. She rubbed her face and re-tied her hair. “I’m scared.”
Clara touched the deadbolt as a silent reassurance to herself then walked across the plush rug to sit by Sapphire. She picked up Sapphire’s clenched fist and pressed her hands around it, trying to warm the freezing skin. “I am too.” She kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. The palace had fewer guards than usual, the weather would hinder runners to and from the garrisons, and if the Reformers wanted an ideal moment, this was it.
“We’re safe as long as we stay here,” Garnet reminded. She huddled over her mug of tea, jaw clenched as she stared at the door. Color had risen to her cheeks, and she looked more herself than she had all day.
“Only if they stay outside,” Sapphire replied, shivering. “What if they get in?” Her gaze darted to where Adeline slept in the master bedroom. “If they want more than Richard, if they want the whole family gone …” she trailed off, shaking her head. Anger flared in her eyes and she sat straight, determination muscling out the fear.
Sapphire grabbed Clara’s wrist, pressing Clara’s hidden sheathed dagger into her forearm. “Promise me, if they get in, you’ll protect Adeline’s life over mine.”
A chill swept down Clara’s spine. “They won’t get in.”
“Promise me.” Sapphire searched Clara’s eyes as if they held the secret to safety. “I can defend myself, but I can’t protect me and her at the same time. I’m not that good. She’s the heir. She’s in more danger than me.”
Breathing out a sigh, Clara tugged her wrist free just enough to grasp Sapphire’s forearm in a warrior’s lock. “I promise. If they get in, I will shield Adeline with my life.” She raised her chin and gave Sapphire a falsely calm smile as her heartbeat drummed against her ribcage. “And if I have my way, I’ll protect you too.”
“I miss Zane.” Garnet coughed, then sneezed pitifully. “He’d protect lonesome little me.”
Sapphire laughed aloud and Clara grinned in spite of herself. Author willing, the men would be back soon and give an update as to what the palace was going to do in response to the chaos outside. A muted thud vibrated from the gate, and Clara jumped to her feet, rushing to the window.
The mob had parted, giving a raucous cheer as a large battering ram smashed into the gate. Oh, whales.
Sapphire and Garnet joined Clara at the window, both of them pale, yet determined. Sapphire settled her hand on her sword, her fingers trembling. “There’s so many.”
Clara nodded, silent. What had been a mob of maybe a hundred before had doubled. And what that mob had planned for the occupants of the palace, she could only assume the worst. She touched her necklace from Andre, silently praying for strength to face whatever came next.
The gate broke, and the mob slammed into the palace doors. Clara gripped her sword, unable to look away. Even if barred from the inside, which they surely were at this point, it was only a matter of time.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Zak
“Mother? May I go outside when I finish? I have only two dishes left.” Zak asked as he pulled a plate from the clean-and-wet stack and started to dry it. He looked over at his mother, eyes wide and pleading. He wasn’t needed for the making of dinner—no one trusted him with the spices anyways. His role was dish cleaner. And his current duty was just about done. He slipped the plate on the stack in relief.
Mrs. Monomi looked up from her cutting board and absently tapped the back of the cleaver against the table as she considered Zak. Her blue eyes roamed the countertop, noting the neat stacks of clean dishes and the empty sink. She glanced out the window, pursing her lips as she watched the snow fall. “Yes, you can go out to the—”
The kitchen door slammed open interrupting her to reveal Zaborah leaning against the door frame, blonde hair sticking to her forehead as she panted, cheeks flushed. Her muddy dress dripped melting snow onto the wood floor.
Zak stared. What had happened to her?
Their mother stood and went from the table to her daughter’s side in a flash of movement. “Zaborah? Did something happen? What’s wrong?” Mrs. Monomi asked in concern, ushering the girl to the table. “Zak, get her a glass of water, please.”
Zak folded his drying towel in half and set it on the bar and then grabbed a clean cup and filled it. He gave it to his sister and stood there, rolling down his sleeves to cover his chilled arms as he waited for her to speak.
“Mob … at the palace.” Zaborah panted, still breathless. “I ran here from there. Lots of angry people.” She gulped the water and slouched her shoulders forward, looking up at their mother through her wisps of bangs. “They were shouting about Prince Richard. Possible coup attempt.”
Excitement and fear coursed through Zak. A coup. Zane used that word once recently, along with another. What was it again? Tre, treans, treasonous?
“I finished the dishes. I’ll just be outside, Mother!” Zak exclaimed, scrambling for the kitchen door.
“Zak!” His mother’s stern tone demanded immediate attention. He stopped and turned slowly, praying she hadn’t changed her mind about him playing in the snow. He gulped when he saw her severe expression.
Long ago, Esther Monomi had been a renowned swordswoman and warrior, one who’d had many admirers but few suitors—many men being too frightened by her strength and will. But his father, Zebediah, was the only one brave enough and lucky enough to catch her eye. Marriage and childbearing had polished her rough edges, and though she was by no means rusty, she’d been content to retire from her warrior days. Zak had grown up hearing of her accomplishments, but never seeing much evidence of her past.
Now a fire blazed in her eyes, and her stance spoke of where her mind was. She looked at him—through him—and ordered in a soft voice that sent shivers down his spine: “Do not leave the citadel. Stay in the inner courtyard. If you hear anything that sounds like it might be trouble, you get your rear in here, right away. Understand?”
A chill of fear shivered down Zak’s spine. He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Blue eyes softened from their icy fire to a twinkle like the winter sky. “Good. Now get going. I need to talk to Zaborah.”
Zak nodded and sped out the door.
He stopped by their family suite to grab his jacket, and walked out toward the courtyard, excited to play in the snow and hoping to overhear more about the mob at the palace. He stopped in the shadows when two guards in thick winter coats passed in front of him, their faces hidden by hoods as they t
alked in hushed tones.
“I heard they want Prince Richard to be overthrown,” said the first man as he buried his gloved fingers under his armpits.
The second man shook his head. “Idiots. He’s not going to let himself be kicked out, and he’s only going to be harder to deal with after this.”
“Too true.” The first man shivered. “It’s too cold to fight, let alone for them to be out. Can’t they wait for spring?”
Laughing briefly, their voices faded as the men continued down the walkway.
Zak stood there in the shadows as he thought. What did a mob look like? He kicked snow off his boots and glanced back toward the kitchens. The secret passageway was part of the citadel, so if he stayed in it, he wouldn’t be breaking all of his mother’s rules. And Zane was in the palace, wasn’t he? Maybe he needed backup?
Zak broke into a run for the library. Please, let Mother never find out about this.
* * *
This time, he remembered to grab a luminary crystal before entering the secret passage. Being able to see drastically cut down the time spent running through the stale air of the narrow hall. The air got colder the closer he got to the underground river, and once he reached the water’s edge he dimmed the crystal to nothing, letting his eyes adjust to the dark so he could see the stepping stones in the dark water.
A voice and a light bounced from the other side of the river.
Zak eeped and ran back to the wall of the cavern, heart pounding as he scrambled into a shallow outcropping of rock, hoping his brown jacket wouldn’t stand out. He curled in on himself, making his body as small as possible. He peeked over his knees as the shadowy forms of two men appeared from the very tunnel he needed to go into. His jaw dropped as they reached the water and worked their way across.
How did they know the way? The light from their crystal had to reflect off the water as much as his did. That’s why he’d turned his off, and was going to use his necklace. Gravel crunched as they reached Zak’s side of the bank, and light glinted off a circlet that one wore.
The tall man who was leading stopped, his light casting eerie shadows on the cavern walls. “Once we get inside the citadel, we go straight to the keystone, and we take it down. You will protect me, and kill anyone who gets in our way. Understood?”
The man with the silver metal crown nodded, and the other spun on his heel, ponytail flying through the air with the motion as he led into the tunnel leading to the citadel library.
Zak didn’t move from his hiding spot until the echoes of their shoes were gone, and he was alone in the dark and quiet cavern. Silently, he unfolded himself from the frigid rock. He stood there, cold and scared, the thrill of adventure gone.
He said take down the barrier. And to kill people. His hand wormed its way through his shirt and jacket layers to grasp his necklace. He clenched it in determination. They wouldn’t get away with it. He’d find Zane first.
He shot forward, careful to cross the freezing water without slipping, then raced up the gloomy tunnel. The change from his faint luminary light in the tunnel to the well-lit library wasn’t as drastic as Zak had expected. He glanced at the window and saw snow flurries against the dark sky.
Despite the quiet that snow always seemed to bring, he could hear something, a strange, muted sound that raised his hackles. He crept forward on the plush carpet, listening. It sounded like a distant animal growling. A strange animal with human voices. The mob? It had to be. He glanced back at the open passageway and ran to close it. He couldn’t get distracted now. The barrier was in trouble.
He ran into the hallway and looked around in panicked confusion. Granted, the library wasn’t on the busiest of wings in the palace, but it was still strangely deserted. Not a guard or staffer in sight. Where would Zane be during a mob? The front gate? The throne room? With Prince Brandon? Zak hesitated before running toward Prince Brandon’s room. Maybe Miss Clara would be there. She could tell him where to go.
Bellows, yells, the crashing of metal, and a strange boom echoed in the hallways, making it impossible for Zak to tell where it was coming from. Breath coming in gasps, he stumbled around a corner blindly and ran into a solid body. The man yelped and hugged his strong arms around Zak before he could fall over or slip away. Zak looked up.
“Matthias?”
“Zak!” His friend’s dark eyes were huge. “What in all of Terrene are you doing here?” The guard grasped his shoulders and shook him. “Don’t you know that the palace is being invaded by rioters? It’s dangerous! Get out of here!”
“I can’t!” Zak cried out as Matthias’s fear touched his own fear and quadrupled it. “There’s men on the way to the citadel to take out the keystone! I need to find Zane!”
Matthias’s dark-chocolate face drained to a muddy ash. “A diversion.” He breathed, eyes widening. He slammed his fist against the wall in anger before a new revelation had him spinning Zak behind him with one hand while pulling his sword out with the other. Zak looked around his friend to see two men pounding down the hall to them, blood dripping off their naked blades. A guard ran ahead of them.
Zak felt all vestiges of courage evaporate.
“Go!” Matthias’s hand pushed Zak forcefully, making him stumble. “Allen and I will hold them off as long as we can! Go to Prince Brandon’s room and warn them! Zane may be there!” Zak watched in horror as four more men rounded the corner.
Six men against two soldiers and a boy were not good odds.
“Zak! This is your order. Go warn them, and get out of here!” Matthias shouted as he ran forward to meet the other guard in palace reds—Allen. Matthias stabbed at the first rioter. The intruder screamed as the sword impaled him. He fell.
Zak backed up slowly, eyes glued to the pool of blood spreading from under the man. His hands felt sweaty and his entire body shook.
Allen hacked at the man closest to him, cutting into his waist, toppling the man. Matthias whirled as he struck out at a rioter. He whipped his head around to pit Zak with a hard look. “Go!”
Zak fled.
The sounds of the fight behind him spurred him on as fast as his legs could go. Fear hounded him. Before he turned the corner, he looked back. More rioters than he remembered surrounded Matthias. Allen, a nearly indistinguishable bloody heap, lay at his feet. A sword sliced into Matthias’s neck as Zak watched.
Zak ran before the men could see him, tears flowing freely, sobs shaking him.
Despair caused Zak’s heart to plummet even further when he reached the doors for Prince Brandon and Lady Sapphire’s quarters. Not a guard was in sight. They must not be here. Terrified, he pounded on the door, crying.
“It’s Zak! Please, I need to find Zane! Highness! Please!” He banged again and nearly fell forward when it opened suddenly, Lady Sapphire’s handmaiden, Clara, standing in the doorway, sword at the ready. She gaped at him and used her free hand to pull him in, shutting the door and locking it.
“Zak!” Lady Sapphire stood in front of him, boots reaching up to her knees where the hem of her emerald dress touched, a leather belt with sword around her waist, and a warm-looking half-jacket covering her arms. Little strands of red hair escaped her ponytail. “What in Terrene are you doing here? Are you injured?” She knelt, running her hands over his arms.
“I was in a tunnel.” Tears streamed from his eyes as his words tumbled out. “Men are going to the citadel. One talked of taking down the barrier. Rioters are here. Matthias is dead. I’m scared.”
Lady Sapphire started moving the moment she’d heard him say “citadel.” She snatched up a black bag that he recognized as Zane’s and tossed it to Clara. “Get whatever Adeline needs for the next few days packed in here right now.” Clara plucked the bag out of the air and raced into an adjoining room.
Belatedly, Zak realized that Mistress Garnet was sitting in a chair by the fire, Adeline on her lap, the two of them watching him. Mistress Garnet spoke, her voice raspy but gentle. “You did good, coming here to warn us. Thank you.”
Zak nodded, gulping back tears. Could Guardians cry? He didn’t know. But he couldn’t stop.
Lady Sapphire dropped into a crouch in front of him, her eyes level with his as she gently reached out and gripped his shoulders. “You mentioned a tunnel. A secret tunnel going out of the palace?”
He nodded and felt shame as a tear escaped him.
She brushed it away with her thumb, giving him a brave nod. “Good. I want you to take Adeline, Garnet, and Clara and lead them out of here. Where is the tunnel? How do we open it? I will find Zane and the men to warn them.” She stayed still, searching her eyes. “Can you do that? Lead them out?”
Zak stared up at her, awed by the striking similarity between her and his mother; fire danced in her eyes, too. He cleared his throat and strove to soak in some of her courage. “Yes.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat before trying again. “Yes m’lady.” He fisted his hands to hide their shaking. He tried to stand straight as he looked her in the eye. “I won’t let you down. The tunnel is in the library; a lamp has a gem under it.”
Her eyes were urgent yet gentle. “Good. Can you tell me more? Which lamp it is?”
He hesitated, trying to remember beyond the panic. “Uh … one of the lamps by the back of the library. The left one, I think.”
“Thank you, Zak.” Her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sorry to ask so much of you. But please, protect my daughter as best as you can.”
Courage that he didn’t know he had left welled up in him. He pounded his hand to his chest in a salute as he bowed, words that he had heard Zane say before tumbling out of his mouth in a somber promise. “With my life.”
Gentle arms tugged him into a hug, and Sapphire kissed him on the forehead. She let go, her eyes smiling at him. “You are a brave Guardian, Zak. Thank you.” She stood and moved quickly to Garnet and Miss Clara. She stooped to press a kiss onto Adeline’s head, running a fingertip over her ear. “I love you, little one.” She looked up sharply at Clara. “Get out. If the citadel is in danger too, go to the Crimson Hawk. I’ll meet you there when I can.”
