Keepers of the Crown

by Lydia Redwine

  was standing so straight, Cam would not have noticed his presence if not for the keen awareness all of the creatures below them seemed to have. He stood so still yet did not look at all afraid. Cam was trembling. And wasn’t even directly in the woman’s presence.

  Or…ShadowBearer. Thefemalewas a ShadowBearer. As the creature turned its face just enough for Cam to glimpse her features more properly, she saw that her skin was too flawless to be human. The creature ceased her speaking, and the boy was just staring at her. The female hissed and rose, her tongue lashing out between full, red lips. “She thinks he can’t understand,” Peter mused in a whisper.

  The Shadow Bearer was rising over the boy, and yet the child barely moved. “Tonight, child. You and the others will play pets in our little games. The court adores newcomers.” The female creature snapped a sharply nailed finger from her fist and traced it down the boy’s cheek. Cam started. She knew the tongue. It was her own.

  The boy didn’t so much as flinch. He may have tensed a bit, but he remained very still. And then, the female was drawing from somewhere inside her elaborate clothing an object. It glittered in her hold.

  A mask. “So, Silva is g oing to hold a ball. She always did that at home,” Cam thought.

  But another thought had her frozen to her place. “The others…AdriaandMista.” She turned to Peter, her brows drawn together. She placed a hand on his shoulder to gather his attention and then jerked her head back the way they had come.

  Peter frowned, his eyes quizzical. Hedidn’t want to leave. Not yet. But Cam was already forming a plan, and he saw it in her expression. She glanced back down to the entrance of the fortress where the gates were creaking open, their groans tight and mourning.

  The female Shadow Bearer stepped forward first. Then the boy. And then the others in a single file line. A procession of court members, no doubt. “From the cities,” Cam mused. Or… a procession to execution. That’s what it looked more like.

  Cam was edging away, and with a sigh, Peter rose and crept after her.

  “What?” hewhisperedonce they werea safedistance and sliding down the stone to where their hiding place had been constructed. Cam slipped down a particularly steep portion of stone into Peter’s hold. His hands landed on her waist to steady her.

  “Silva is going to hold a ball. And she’s invited all those people to attend. For what reason exactly, I do not know. But I can guess it has something to do with our people.”

  Peter’s brow rose. “And you gained all that from seeing a mask?”

  Cam shook her head. “No...well, yes. But it's exactly something Silva would do. She used to hold masquerades in Medulla. Games were always involved. And most of the balls were ones my sisters and I weren’t allowed to attend.”

  Peter’s eyes widened as his hands slipped from Cam’s waist. But she was still grasping at his arm. “And this time...we will all be there. My sisters…” She gulped.

  “They will be a part of whatever sick games she has planned,” Peter finished, his whisper nearly inaudible. Cam barely nodded, her eyes wide.

  Cam was about to speak again when further commotion erupted from where they had just come from. Peter was the first to vault right back up the rock, Cam at his heels. Cam watched as he pulled himself to the ledge. When she rose next to him, she found that three more figures had appeared at the castle gate, a trunk swinging between them. It was just the three now, and the doors were not open for them. If they hurried...

  Cam didn’t like the grin appearing on Peter’s face. “I know what to do.” He took her hand. “Do you have your slingshot?” Cam’s brow rose in question, but before she could protest, Peter squeezed her hand, drew a dagger, and whispered, “Jump on three.”

  “Well...not all of this looks quite that bad,” Lia said with a

  grimace. In her hands, she was holding up a frock similar to what the creatures had been wearing when Peter had landed atop one and Cam had rammed a stone into the skull of another. And the third...well, as Cam remembered with a grin splitting her lips, he had run right off the side of the cliff. Cam peered around Fiera to examine the clothing Lia was holding. The cut was long with chains dipping in the front and back alike to expose much skin on both sides. Cam knew the length of the gown would hug all curves of the body.

  “So unlike the clothing, we were forced to wear in Medulla,” Fiera mused dryly. “All the flouncy dresses and bows. And now there are chains and no doubt pockets for weapons.”

  “It’s as if someone decided those of Cinis Lumen should have some fun for once,” Caleb chortled.

  Lia shot him a glare. “There is plenty in Cinis Lumen we would wear to look nice.”

  Caleb shrugged. “Not that I ever saw.”

  Fiera was grinning but diverted her eyes away from Caleb. “Maybe no one ever wanted to look nice in front of you. I mean, I certainly never made the effort.”

  Caleb’s grin grew impossibly larger than Fiera’s. “You never had to, dear.”

  Cam tried not to choke on a laugh as she said to Lia, “I’ll wear it. Just find me a mask.”

  Lia nodded. There were plenty of masks and clothing fit for all sizes and shapes and genders and all for them so elaborate and alike, Cam knew they were meant for thisoccasion. “It seems as though the whole court will be in attendance,” Peter spoke up at last as he nudged Cam.

  “A court is here? But the castle seems so...empty,” Joel spoke up.

  “We suppose that the main court members come from the cities underground…” Peter began.

  Ilea emerged from the group surrounding the trunk Cam and Peter had stolen. “That is true. Or, at least, it was. We saw them. Andnotmanyofthemarehuman.” Shepaused toexamine a tiara of bronze set with emeralds and rubies. She weighed the heavy object in her hand. “We will join the party, then?”

  “I would not put it past Silva to notice more than a dozen additional guests,” Cam spoke up.

  Lia replied with, “It seems as if whatever number of creatures can be rummaged up from the cities, are being commanded to attend, so I am sure a counting will not be held.”

  “We will play masquerade,” Peter added. Cam noticed that he had been eyeing a tight-fitting uniform-like outfit with buckles and chains of silver on nearly every particle of the abdomen. A sparkling, raven mask lay beside it.

  “But...what exactly is the plan once we’re in? We can easily line up at the gate as more from the cities arrive. But when we’re in?” Caleb asked.

  “And how will we get out?” Fiera added.

  “It’s simple,” Cam spoke up. “We lie.” Silence fell between the persons rummaging through the clothing. All attention slipped to Cam. “Silva already knows we’re here. Or, at least, strongly suspects that we are coming. This whole thing was fashioned as a trap in the first place. The trick is to step right into the trap without having it close down on us. And because I lived with her for most of my life, I may have some ideas on how to go about doing that.”

  “And Ilea here knows the court customs. At least, how they used to be. Which will be helpful despite how much they've changed,” Peter added. Ilea’s sharp gaze was directed at him as he spoke. “And maybe seeing an old acquaintance like Ilea will help shake Silva up a bit.”

  “She certainly won’t be expecting it,” Fiera said.

  “Andwhat arewelyingabout exactly?” Owen queried, his arms folded across his chest.

  “Silva is looking for the Crown of Caelae. That is why she attacked Mirabelle,” Cam began, her voice clear enough to carry through the space. The breeze between the broken pillars of stone they were standing at rustled her hair.

  “And we’re going to tell her we have it,” Fiera finished, something sparking in her eyes.

  “She’ll know we’re lying,” Owen said, his eyes slipping shut in forced patience.

  Cam’s lips were turning into a grin. “Not if we do it well enough. We can convince Silva that we walked into this place with a plan. That we have intentions. If we propose a trade a
nd seem confident enough in it, I don’t doubt she’ll reveal something.”

  “And besides, the lies you believe most come from those you love. Or claim to love, anyway,” Fiera added. She scoffed. “I mean, I believed all her lies for my whole life.”

  Silence fell soon to be followed by shuffling of feet and the glances shared between the company. “I can reinforce the lie,” Ilea stated. “I can play a victim sort of role. Silva knows that I had the Crown. Andit was too late forher when shefound out.” Ilea rose from where she had been sitting, her cape rippling in the wind behind her. “She hated me for it. But...she may believe that I had it with me when I left. That I was able to keep it in my possession while hiding it from Leviathan. Regardless, I know more than most. And we can convince her that you forced knowledge from me.”

  Cam nodded. “Good.” But another thought crept into the back of her mind. When they had asked Ilea where the Crown was, and she had feigned not knowing the whereabouts. “And still doesn’t, supposedly. Do you have it?” Cam wondered as her eyes narrowed slightly at the woman. And what if Ilea did have it? “And is keeping it from us. Keeping it for herself. It’s motive enough. Regardless of who it's for, Ilea wants it out of Silva’s clutches as much as we do.”

  “Another thing,” Lia spoke up, breaking a silence which had grown stiff. “Costumes and masks will be helpful, but there are many here that Silva will recognize. We want to enter and engage in the occasion unrecognized for a time.” Lia began rummaging in a satchel.

  Caleb broke into laughter. “You actually brought those things with you?”

  Lia was not glaring, but rather, grinning when she pulled out vials of liquids in varying colors and densities. “Paint for scales so we can all be Shadow Bearers as well as paint to color our faces. Some of us will be lighter and others darker. And then there’s coloring for hair…”

  Cam’s fingers traced the glass containers as Lia laid them one by one on a slab of stone before her. And for a moment, the prospect of attending the ball and dressing up and having a friend embellish her seemed...fun. Even if the ball was being held by the Queen of Mingroth herself.

  Hours passed in which Cam slept. Or tried to sleep. But sleep did not come easily. It had no come easily since Enboria.

  Then Cam was standing behind Peter fastening the mask to his face as the sky dipped into a chaos of black and blue. “You don’t trust her, do you?” he murmured. Cam did not need to glance over at Ilea to know of whom he spoke.

  “I don’t know,” Cam replied. “But whether she is with us in the long run, she is our ally now. She wants Silva out of the picture as much as we do.”

  “We just can’t let her...get too close.” Peter turned to look at Cam, his gaze locking with hers. “Any plans we make beyond getting our people back stay between you, me, Owen, Fiera, Caleb, and Lia.”

  “Not even Joel?”

  Peter nodded. “Not even Joel. I just...I don’t know about him yet.”

  “I don’t either. There really isn’t a reason for him to be here,” Cam mused. And then she remembered that Joel hadn’t said a word during their meeting.

  Peter whipped the edge of his cape in front of him and said, “Do you think me a fine and mysterious gentleman?”

  Cam’s lips lifted slightly. “Perhaps. But that role is a dangerous one to play. I doubt the Queen of Poison will expect gentlemen to be at her ball.” She remained solemn as she said this.

  Peter dropped the edge of his cape to gaze curiously at her as he handed her a dagger to slip into the sleeve of her dress. “We will accomplish what we promised we would do here. The other hostages…”

  “Of course,” Cam replied quickly.

  “I must know one thing. Where did you and Fiera go when you sneaked off from us two days ago?”

  Cam was quiet for a long moment. Finally, she lifted her gaze and replied solemnly. “To find my sisters.”

  Peter gripped Cam’s arm. “And did you?”

  Slowly, Cam nodded.

  “Hell, Cam, and you never thought to tell me? Anyone else?”

  Cam shook her head. “The fewer people that know, the better.”

  Peter was shaking his head. “I trust you, Cam, I do. But you can’t do everything on your own.”

  Cam forced a smile. “Fiera was with me.”

  Peter huffed a sigh but slid a finger into one of Cam’s waves. The hair had been dyed silver. Not silver enough that it shimmered too much to draw attention but did make her otherwise blackhair shine. “Okay,” was all hesaid ina soft voice. “I trust you.”

  Cam mustered a real smile this time. “Thank you.”

  She lifted the emerald mask to her face and fastened it carefully. As she lifted her arms, the cold chains draped over her back rippled against her skin. Wearing this gown would take some getting used to.

  Peter lifted his arm for her hand to grasp. “Tonight, you are our leader.”

  “And you?”

  Peter managed a small smile. “Your right-hand man.”

  “Gentleman.” She felt his low, rumbling laugh as he led her up the stone they had climbed earlier. Cam had purposely cut her dress to a length that would allow climbing. And fleeing for her life if need be. She glanced at the sky which had now melted into something ingrained with tints of green. “It is as if the sky was painted for the occasion,” she murmured to Peter.

  “Perhaps, the magic of this hell does reach as far as coloring the sky,” he replied. They spoke no more, for they were now descending quietly to melt into a mass of shadows that had gathered at Silva’s gate.

  Twenty-Two

  The room was surprisingly warm.

  And the fire that roared in the hearths were not of blue flames but wild, red tongues moving as the bodies sheened in sweat did. Fiera’s eyes roved the expanse. Evidently, this was a throne room also used for other purposes. The floors were checkered tiles of black and darker black, the shades just different enough to reveal that there was a pattern. But this room, as Fiera came to realize, was not just one to hold a ball. Polished tables lining both lengthy walls were littered in rose petals and held countless goblets. The liquid in the cups shimmered beneath the chandeliers of black glass above them.

  And the throne…

  Fiera tried not to stare too much. The seat was silver thorns protruding from all sides. A safe place for a queen to sit if anyone planned to charge at her. She noticed that at least twelve of their company had slipped into the dance routine. Among them, six women and six men; a necessary number in which to pair up. Two figures swept by, their movements just faulty enough to know they were human and in their company. Owen and Lia, Fiera guessed by their equally tall stature. Joel was somewhere in here with the others of their company except for Ilea, Cam, and Peter. Ilea had slipped in last and was staying in corners. She was playing the victim role even before the game began.

  “Good. An asset,” Fiera mused. “Now...we just pretend we are enjoying ourselves until Cam signals.” She tried looking for Cam and Peter but to no avail. They were hiding too well.

  Caleb was at her side, fixing his mask to hisface. “It keeps slipping off,” he hissed.

  Fiera was not paying much attention to him but was dividing her gaze between the other occupants of the room and the balcony overhead. Though most of the guests were flawless beauties or ugly, scaled creatures moping in corners, Fiera could not keep her gaze upon them for long. Not when a sharp laugh cut the rippling music. Fiera knew the laugh, and something in her decayed as it rang out again. It was a strange shock, really, to see her own mother laughing from the throne at a cluster of creatures before her. To see a woman she thought she knew so well...

  “A queen…” The title was foreign on Fiera’s tongue when her mother’s face leered before her. And Silva was draped over that throne in costume and crown. So unlike the gay, green frocks, she had worn in Mirabelle. She was adorned with silver chains clinging to her form-fitting raven gown. A gown that looked quite similar to Cam’s. Fiera’s eyes roved jus
t beyond Silva. She was still looking for them. For Adria and Mista and the other hostages. Cam had said there would be a game involving them tonight… “Probably the prospect of this whole damned event,” Fiera thought.

  Fiera was withdrawn from her long gaze at the queen when Caleb tugged at her arm. “If you stare for long, she will notice and beckon you to her,” he warned.

  She nodded as she turned to him. “Then dance with me.” She said it as if their dancing would allow them to fit in more, but she actually wished him to dance with her so she could move. Moving would ease some of the tingling nerves beneath her skin. Being still made everything itch more. Caleb rose a brow at her and glanced at the guests around them. They had not expected, yet were not surprised, that the dancing consisted of two persons being pressed entirely against one another and moving their forms in tune to the shrill music of stringed instruments.

  Nevertheless, Fiera grasped his hand, and he swung her to him so that her back was pressed to his chest. She shivered slightly when his warm breath fell on her ear. “Pretend I am saying something more...well…”

  “I know,” she replied. “Swing me outward now.” He did so and she swung out into the crowd, brushing those around her before she was snapped to him again. Her hand came up into his as he grasped her back with his other hand.

  “We haven't really danced together since that night in Cinis Lumen when the new Royals were crowned,” Caleb murmured. “Except then we weren’t as...close.”

  “Do you mean physically or the fact that we were just beginning to tolerate each other?”

  Caleb tilted his head. “You tolerate me? How wonderful! I was beginning to think you utterly despised me if not for my dashing good looks then for my skills which far surpass your own…” Fiera tried to glare, but she knew he was saying these things to distract her, not to provoke her. She cleared her throat as if to ignore the fact that she was nearly pressed fully against him.

  “It is oneof Silva’s favored dances,” Fiera replied shortly. “This place...it reeks of her.” She glanced back at the queen who was now staring directly at them. Her eyes were hardened and narrowed as though she were attempting to distinguish exactly who they and the surrounding persons were. “She senses something amiss,” Fiera said, her heart beginning to thrum wildly in her chest.