A Captive of Wing and Feather

by Melanie Cellier

  We fell into step beside each other, crossing into the trees without any attempt on Gabe’s part to make conversation. Surrounded by the trees, and the strange tricks of light produced by the setting sun, I admitted to myself that exhaustion had nothing to do with it.

  In just the few short days since his arrival, I had grown used to having him with me. The trees had never felt safe—and they felt less so now. My swans couldn’t keep me company as I walked, and I felt the prickling sensation of eyes on me, even when there was none. But even my unease didn’t fully explain it.

  Before Gabe’s arrival I had felt alone even when I was not. It had made the physical isolation easier to bear. But I didn’t feel that way anymore. We shared a goal and a purpose, and he understood me—the background and forces that shaped me—in a way no one else here could. He knew my family and what they had been like, and he knew what it was to be raised royal. Having tasted that companionship again, the solitude of the lake now felt like a burden I wasn’t sure I could bear.

  I said nothing, but I acknowledged to myself that I wouldn’t send him away again. If he was willing to brave the forest to keep me company, I would let him. But as soon as I was free from this enchantment, I would put some distance between us. My friends at the haven knew the truth about me now, and my life there could provide the companionship I needed.

  Gabe didn’t attempt conversation while the light remained, but neither did he make any move to leave me alone at the lake. And when darkness fell, he still lingered. When I didn’t send him away, he took what had become his usual place by the small fire he had built. I could tell by the way he looked at me that he had a question, and I feared it was about his conversation with Cora.

  Part of me wanted to do anything to avoid his questions—I even considered lying down and pretending to sleep. But it was better to talk here, where I had my voice and no one else could overhear. I sighed.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again. “There’s no question that we need to get inside the Keep. We have to make this scheme with the wagon work. But do you really think Leander might be planning to assassinate me?”

  My mind scrambled to adjust to such an unexpected topic. But it was the first time I had heard him speak of the possibility with an utterly serious tone, and I wanted to answer him with equal gravity.

  “Yes, I do.”

  He blew out a long breath. “I have to admit, after what we saw in the woods, it looks increasingly as if Leander must be responsible for the kingdom’s strange timidity—and as if he must have violent plans to exploit it. There is some master plan here, and it’s the work of years. But why call those wolves off the other day? If he intends to kill me, why not let them finish the job right there?”

  I frowned. “I’ve been thinking about that. I don’t think it was a targeted attack. I’ve been wondering if the wolves were wandering where they weren’t supposed to be, and were called back into line. It was probably chance as much as anything that they found us.”

  I paused. “I also think Audrey might be on to something regarding Leander wanting to ensure you have a public death to avoid suspicion falling on him. If he has been laying this plan for years, then he won’t want it to be overset before his planned moment has arrived, and he doesn’t appear to be ready to march on the capital. So while I can easily imagine him wanting to take advantage of you falling into his lap in such a way, he wouldn’t want to do it in a manner that brings too much attention to him.”

  “Thanks to whatever enchantment he’s cast, I’m not so sure anyone at the capital would take action on any suspicions,” Gabe muttered, wearing a look of discouragement that I hadn’t seen on his face before.

  I wished I could reassure him, but my experience of the inhabitants of Brylee made me wonder if he was right. Even so, however, Talinos wasn’t the only kingdom.

  “You’re loved outside of Talinos,” I said. “The other kingdoms wouldn’t overlook your death—or allow Leander to get away with assassinating you if he appeared to have done so. And if your family didn’t act, that might give the other kingdoms a reason to bring troops of their own in. They have to be suspecting that something untoward is going on here.”

  “So you think Leander means to engineer an accident?” Gabe asked.

  I shrugged. “Or have it appear that someone from Brylee is responsible for the assassination. He may even set it up so that he appears to be defending you. He’ll have plenty of witnesses—and pliable ones, too. None of them are likely to take any unexpected action to upset the drama he has planned.”

  Now Gabe looked decidedly uncomfortable.

  “I have to admit, you make a compelling case,” he said.

  Chapter 18

  The next day passed with agonizing slowness, and I could only keep half a mind on the talk around me. Juniper managed to winkle two cookies out of me just before lunchtime, and I somehow promised Vilma that I would come and parade my finery for her before attending Leander’s party at the end of the week. Only afterward did I realize what I had said. If we had success in the morning, no one would be attending any festivities—and regardless of what happened, I had no intention of celebrating with Leander.

  Ash turned up at lunchtime with fresh rolls for everyone, and the glow in his eyes sent fresh guilt surging through me. He thought Wren had sought him out yesterday of her own volition, and I was sure that was what had brought him back today. After so long spent attempting to win her over, she finally seemed to have opened up to him.

  I watched them out of the corner of my eye, observing as he solemnly listened to one of Juniper’s stories before producing a cake which he had decorated with speckles of pink sugar just for her. Wren’s eyes lit up, and she certainly looked genuinely pleased. He made an aside to her, and she laughed before asking him to lift something down from one of the higher shelves for her. I made myself turn away.

  As the day wore on toward night, my guilt for involving Ash grew. Only the memory of my terror as the bear chased us kept me determined to follow our plan. We weren’t just doing this for me—we were doing it for everyone.

  As the last of the afternoon slipped away, Audrey stuck to my side. She was determined to come to the lake for a final conversation before the attempted entry to the Keep first thing in the morning, and I didn’t attempt to dissuade her this time.

  None of our plans had changed, but it was a relief to be able to speak and participate properly in the conversation as we went over them one last time around our little fire. The swans, perhaps sensing that something momentous was about to happen, left the lake and came to lie around us.

  I rested my hands on their springy feathers, fighting back tears at the sight of them all. I had been so focused on winning my freedom, I hadn’t given any thought to what I would have to give up.

  For all it was a prison, my lake was both peaceful and beautiful, and—far more importantly—my swans had been my friends, companions, protectors, and comforters for two years now. They had shown me unswerving loyalty, and I struggled to imagine life without them. What would happen when Gabe and I destroyed the object that bound us together? Would the loosing of the enchantment return them to their wild state? Would they simply fly away, never to be seen again?

  I went to sleep as I had done on the terrifying first nights of my curse—with my feathery friends settled around me, pressing against me on both sides. The fear, anticipation, hope, and unexpected sense of loss mingled together to create a strange dreamscape that left me wrung out and poorly rested when I awoke the next morning.

  Audrey looked like she hadn’t slept much better than me, but Gabe looked elated. He had an extra spring in his steps, and I could see the shine that the prospect of the day’s activities had put in his eyes. Gabe wasn’t daunted by anything he considered an adventure.

  He soon had Audrey in high spirits, the two of them proposing more and more outrageous suggestions about how the day might go, their c
huckles seeming to lighten the gray and brown of the trees as we made our way back to Brylee. But just as I began to feel a hint of concern, Gabe met my eyes and gave a slight nod. Beneath the levity, I glimpsed a serious layer that told me he knew what we were about to walk into—or roll into in this case.

  Audrey led us through the streets, ducking down a side alley to bring us out at the back of the bakery. She gestured for us to stay around the corner against the wall of the building while she peeked into the open courtyard. A moment later she was back at our side.

  “Wren is already here,” she whispered. “She saw me, so if we just give her a moment, she’ll find an excuse to draw him back into the shop. I’ll keep watch.”

  She disappeared, and Gabe and I exchanged a look. This was the established plan, but I had never been quite comfortable with this part. The prince’s expression and body were drawn in serious lines now, however, and I tried to draw confidence from him.

  When Audrey popped back into view, eyes wide, and waved for us to join her, we both reacted instantly. Together the three of us dashed out into the courtyard, Audrey gesturing for us to hurry in exaggerated movements that would have earned her a teasing in normal circumstances.

  As we approached Ash’s wagon, his horse swished his tail, making no other protest to our presence. But I eyed the vehicle with misgiving. I remembered seeing it around the town previously—but I could have sworn it was bigger. I glanced sideways at Gabe, but he didn’t seem in the least concerned or uncomfortable, so I pushed the thought away. We would make it work somehow.

  Audrey pulled back the canvas that covered the bed of the wagon, revealing a number of boxes. Straw stuck from various cracks in the rough crates, the baked samples it protected hidden from view inside. Several blankets appeared to have been shoved haphazardly to the back to make room for the boxes.

  “Get in,” Audrey hissed. “Up the back.”

  Gabe leaped up into the wagon, turning to help me in behind him. I heard Ash’s voice approaching and scrambled ungracefully up, nearly landing on one of the boxes.

  Wren’s voice called from further inside the shop, and Ash’s footsteps receded again. All three of us let out simultaneous breaths of relief, and then Audrey had to choke back giggles—the tension apparently starting to get to her.

  Gabe dropped onto his hands and knees and crawled under the canvas covering, right to the back of the wagon. Pushing blankets out of the way, he lay down with his back against the front of the wagon bed. Beckoning for me to join him, he held out his arms. Misgivings filled me, but I hesitated only a moment before lying down and allowing his reaching arms to firmly grasp me around the waist and pull me tight against him. I curled into a ball, only my back resting against his chest.

  “Quick, Audrey,” he whispered. “Cover us.”

  She scrambled up into the wagon herself, crawling around the boxes to retrieve the discarded blankets. Weight and darkness settled over me, bringing with it the smell of dirt and animals and the musty remnants of ancient baked goods. I gasped and gagged.

  “Breathe, Addie.” Gabe’s warm breath brushed against my ear, his arms around me tightening slightly, and I managed to even my breathing.

  The wagon creaked, moving beneath us as Audrey climbed out.

  “Audrey! I didn’t expect to see you,” said Ash a moment later.

  His tone was welcoming, and he made no mention of her being in his wagon, so presumably she had made it off just in time.

  “I thought I would come down to wish you the best and walk back with Wren,” Audrey said.

  “How kind!” I could easily imagine Ash beaming at the two sisters. “I know Wren is glad to have you at home again, Audrey. As am I.”

  They murmured various other pleasantries while I silently pleaded for them to hurry up. We were committed now, and I wasn’t sure I could bear much more waiting.

  At long last, Ash climbed onto the bench seat at the front of the wagon and called to his horse to get moving. The slap of the reins sounded, and Gabe jerked into me, both of us sliding forward slightly before he managed to brace us.

  We rolled around, whacking against each other and the walls while Ash made two tight turns. The wagon hit the main road and straightened just in time to bounce over an enormous pothole. Gabe gave a tiny grunt in my ear as both of us lifted into the air and whacked down hard against the wood. I winced silently—more practiced at verbal restraint than him. That was going to bruise.

  I tried to calculate how far we might have traveled, but both time and distance had disappeared inside the stale darkness of the wagon bed. Every now and then Ash called gentle encouragement to his horse, but otherwise the only sounds were those made by the clop of hooves and the wheels of the wagon.

  I tried hard not to think about the fact that I lay pressed up against Gabe, his strong arms around me, but it was a difficult situation to ignore. Thank goodness the dangerous aspect of our mission was enough to account for the speed of my heart rate. I didn’t want Gabe thinking his proximity made me uncomfortable. My only surprise was that his pulse beat against my back at nearly the same pace. His manner this morning had suggested he was inured to the excitement and fear of such dangerous undertakings.

  We lay there together for an indeterminate amount of time, and I was lulled into a strange sort of peace. When we finally did begin to slow, I gasped softly, caught off guard. The Keep—it had to be.

  Guards called down to Ash, and he called back a reply, explaining his purpose. Soon the creak of the great wooden gate sounded, and the wagon rolled forward again, lurching to another stop inside the Keep’s external walls. Now came the complicated part. We hadn’t been able to make specific plans since everything depended on what happened with the wagon, the cakes, and Ash.

  A voice I didn’t recognize welcomed the baker, and from the rocking of the wagon, Ash had climbed down to greet the speaker in person. Various sounds of boots, animals, and unidentified thumps made it harder to hear than before. I strained to catch the words exchanged and decided this must be the Keep cook, come to meet and direct the baker.

  Sudden light filtered through our wool covering as someone thrust back the front of the canvas to expose the boxes of cakes. The cook called loudly for a number of assistants to remove the crates and carry them to the kitchen, berating anyone who didn’t treat them gently enough for her liking.

  I held my breath while Gabe did the same behind me, neither of us making even the slightest movement. If someone pulled the canvas all the way off, or came poking toward the back of the wagon, there was every chance they would notice the strangeness of our shapes beneath the blankets.

  “Six—that’s the lot of them,” Ash said, and the darkness returned, the canvas over the wagon dropped closed again.

  I gave a silent breath of relief, but Gabe’s arms around me didn’t relax. Several long moments stretched out, and then the wagon lurched again. No one had climbed up, so someone must be leading the horse.

  A loud voice soon confirmed the impression, calling for a stable boy to lead the vehicle to an out of the way spot behind the stables. I could almost hear and feel Gabe’s grin.

  The wagon stopped again, and the horse was unharnessed. The slow clop of hooves retreated.

  “Give it another minute,” Gabe breathed into my ear, and I remained still.

  When I thought I would burst with the tension of the wait, his arms moved, disentangling themselves from me and giving me a gentle push. I twisted around, scrambling up onto my knees and crawling to the back of the wagon. The way was clear now, the boxes all removed, and I reached the edge as Gabe pulled himself up beside me.

  Cautiously, he lifted the canvas, sticking his head out just enough to see.

  “All clear,” he whispered, slithering out the back and disappearing.

  I followed as quickly as I could, clambering down to stand beside him. We both looked around, taking in our surroundings as fast as possible.

  We stood in a thankfully shadowed corner o
f the large space inside the Keep’s walls. A stone building that must be the stables sheltered us, and I could see a number of other outbuildings scattered around. Inevitably, however, my eye was drawn to the Keep itself—an enormous round stone tower, reaching far above us.

  That was where Leander’s study was, where we would find anything of importance—and where Leander himself would be. An icy trickle counteracted the flush that had gripped me.

  “We need to get in there,” Gabe whispered, and I realized his eyes were trained on the Keep as well. “We need to find Leander’s study.”

  I pointed toward the big window near the top.

  “Is that the one Stormy saw Leander through?” Gabe asked. “If only we had wings to fly up there ourselves.”

  The sound of footsteps made us both draw back, retreating around the side of the wagon. They passed without pausing or moving in our direction, and I let out the breath I had been holding.

  “We need to move confidently, as if we belong,” Gabe said. “But heads down, so our faces can’t be clearly seen.”

  I gave a single, quick nod. I didn’t like this part of the plan either, but I could see no other alternative.

  Chapter 19

  Gabe produced a cap and a scarf from nowhere, handing the scarf to me and gesturing for me to tie it over my head while he pushed the cap over his own curling locks. And then he stepped out into the open, and I had no option but to follow.

  We stuck to the edge of the vast courtyard, moving along the buildings rather than drawing attention to ourselves by walking through the middle of the open space. Every muscle strained at being held back, urging me to sprint to the distant door of the Keep, but I held myself in check.

  At any moment I expected to hear someone hailing us in accusing tones, but somehow we made it into the shadow of the Keep itself. We avoided the main doors, making instead for a simple wooden one some way around the curve of the building.