I started to say I would, too, but Bren cut me off. “What if Innon’s coming from another street? And walks right into the patrol?”
We were silent as rain splashed around us.
“I’ll find a spot to spy here,” I said. “If he comes, I’ll stop him. Then we all meet. . . .”
“Where?” he asked as Deon began to drag him away.
“Athaeus House tunnel at noon?”
“Don’t know where that is.” Bren was shivering again.
“I do,” Deon said, shivering too. “Let’s go.”
• • •
I FOUND A good hiding place between a ruined stone fence and an old storage shed, from which I could see the alley opening. The rain turned into a torrent as the search party finished, and it was clear that they were definitely looking for us. They moved to the next street.
I waited . . . and waited . . . and was about to move when a pair of guards appeared from another direction. I was afraid that they, too, were going to begin a search. Surely Innon would have been here by now—if he was coming at all. It was time to leave.
As soon as the sound of their horse hooves was lost in the hiss of rain, I left my hiding place and bolted to Athaeus House. Even as I leaped fences and raced up alleys, I couldn’t stop looking behind me.
I caught my breath in the garden and let myself into the tunnel, meaning to wait out the worst of the rain. The walls still held the summer heat, and slowly I stopped shivering. I sat down, thinking over and over, Peitar’s escaped! He’s free. But where is he?
He wouldn’t run away to safety—that was the problem. Until he either established peace or got caught again, he’d be right in the middle of things. I was so tired that my mind tumbled between worries and plans, and without realizing it, I slid into a fitful sleep.
• • •
I WOKE ABRUPTLY, a mass of aches. My body seemed bruised all over, especially my knees, where I had fallen. My head throbbed. And I was starving.
I forced myself to stand and let myself out of the tunnel, into the garden. The sun was out, and I could tell that noon had passed a long time ago. A carriage rolled by, piled high with luggage. There was no sign that Bren, Innon, or Deon had been there, no note.
My tunic had gotten twisted as I slept. I adjusted it and felt the transfer ring. I could have gotten all three of us to the valley—but what about Innon? And would Deon have gone? She’d been desperate to catch up with Derek.
At least I could have asked, I thought, more miserable than ever. How could I forget the ring? And then fall asleep!
Should I try running all over the city in hopes of finding the others? Or just use the ring? Yes, I’d be safe at last—and Tsauderei would never let me out of the valley. I’ve got to find Peitar. And that means finding Bernal’s army . . .
“Need a ride out of town?”
The voice came from a wagon full of prentices. The speaker was a big, strong-looking boy with black hair. He looked about fifteen. “You can ride with us—we can fit in another.” He jingled a coin purse. “And even eat, if we run out of supplies. Mistress Platas gave us plenty.”
“Where are you going?” I asked, thinking of my bruised knees.
“East Road, on our way to—”
“East Road?” Wasn’t Bernal’s army somewhere on the east side of the city? “Thanks!”
I boosted myself up. The others hauled me in and made room in the back.
Twice the boy offered the invitation to other kids. The first squeezed into a corner with a sigh of gratitude and promptly fell asleep. The second, a tall girl wearing a long apron over a coarse-weave gown, walked beside the wagon, her face distrustful.
“Why?” she asked. “You don’t know me, and you look like guild prentices. I’m a housemaid.”
Up on the driver’s box sat a young man and woman around Peitar’s age. The woman looked back and smiled. “Crowded yet, Landos?”
“We’ve still got room,” Landos replied. Then he said to the girl, “Like they told us Lord Peitar said at the trial: if we don’t help each other, then we’re no better than the Norsundrians. Come on!”
I was about to cry, “Peitar didn’t say that!” but stopped myself just in time.
“Get left behind?” Landos asked as the girl sat down and tucked her apron over her knees.
She grimaced. “The new Lady Jalkenna. Said for me to clean the house and lock up. When I finished, the family was gone—leaving me to get out on my own. Well, I’ll get myself out, and to a new job. Lady Jowl is closer with a copper-piece than a dockside innkeeper.” She looked around at the others. Most wore the plain brown tunics of guild prentices. Several had blue squares stitched on the front, like Landos. “You all glaziers?”
“Some,” Landos said.
“We’re gilders,” a girl said, indicating the kids on either side of her.
“Stable hands.”
A few glances flicked my way. “Spit-boy at the palace.”
“I thought that was palace gray.” Landos nodded at my tunic. “So you must have seen some of the action, eh?”
“Like what?” I asked cautiously.
He leaned forward. “Kitchen people hear everything. All the rumors yesterday said that the Sharadan brothers got Derek Diamagan and Lord Peitar Selenna free. Is it true?”
“The Sharadan brothers?” the housemaid exclaimed. “They’re thieves. My cousin’s wife is friends with the stable hands at the Red Raven, and she said the Sharadan brothers burgled them and bragged about it.”
“They’re not thieves,” countered the little gilder. “They saved my mistress’s sister’s family from starving. And not just that family, from what I know.”
“That’s what I heard, too,” Landos agreed.
A stocky, red-haired gilder said, “Thieves! Like the Guild Chief said, only criminals would keep that treasonous coward Selenna from justice. Whom we can thank for our being on our way out of the city, leaving our homes to be burned and looted again.”
“Treasonous?” Landos repeated, his friendly expression hardening.
“Treasonous coward,” the gilder boy repeated, arms crossed. “Never touched a sword in his life, but that didn’t stop him’n that bandit Diamagan from sending a mob to cut throats.”
Landos said in a soft voice, slow with menace, “You think you can sit here in our wagon and yap out those lies?”
“Yes.”
Only when they all stared at me did I realize I had spoken.
twelve
“Yes,” I said louder. “Though I don’t agree. But that’s just what Peitar really did say at the trial. People should have free speech. Exchange ideas. But it has to be ideas, not threats. Or else we’ll be fighting each other forever.” My eyes stung, and, oh, I missed my brother. “We can’t fight each other, we just can’t. Or we’ll be all ready for Norsunder to come get us. That’s what Peitar said. At the trial.” My voice broke on the word trial.
Everyone was quiet, then Landos said, “How’s this. Since none of us knows what really happened, let’s call a truce.”
“All right with me,” the gilder agreed after a pause. “Though no truce is going to bring back my dad and uncle.”
“Well.” The housemaid squinted up at the sky as cold raindrops spattered our faces. “One thing for sure. No one is going to do much fighting if that storm coming on is as bad as it looks.”
The female driver turned around. “You all right back there? Anyone have anything that melts in rain?” Laughter. Surreptitiously I pushed the fashion book down farther into my waistband, until it crowded my bag of thief tools into my hipbones.
The downpour started. I hoped my two layers of clothes would keep the worst off, and curled myself in as tight a ball as I could. I was glad of the bodies pressed up against me, for they kept me warm, and I was
lulled to sleep by the steady jolt of the wagon.
I woke when it stopped. We were in a half-burned barn, moonlight glowing through cracks in the roof. The prentices climbed out, someone saying, “I’ll find the lanterns.”
Golden light soon illuminated people stretching, others scouting around for fodder, and someone else unpacking baskets. There had been a lot of us crammed into that cart. The gilders stood aside in a group until a glazier girl approached them. “We’ve got bread and cheese. Plenty,” she said.
“Thanks,” the red-haired boy responded.
Soon everyone was eating. I picked a spot on a fallen timber near the barn door. People talked quietly around me. It seemed that the city guards were fighting each other, so nobody knew who was in control for sure. Some thought the king still was, others that Captain Leonos (“The traitor!” “No, the hero!”) was. The two armies were forming up in the land east of the city, but no one was certain where. I’d have to be careful, then, for I was determined to find Derek and Bernal’s army, because I knew the foresters would have taken Peitar to them.
After that, the talk turned to friends and families, sleep and shelter. Once I heard the name Diamagan, but then the voices dropped into whispers.
“Who are you?” Landos came up to me. Lamplight from the wagon reflected in his dark eyes and threw his features into high relief.
“I’m Larei,” I said.
He sat beside me. “I’m Landos Gilad. You know Lord Peitar Selenna. It was the way you said his name. Like you were friends. Or . . . family.”
Oh, no! I stared, trying to put together a convincing lie.
He continued, with a friendly smile, “I like solving puzzles, and you’re making more pieces by the moment.”
I remembered what he’d said earlier about my brother. I whispered, “Lilah Selenna.” He looked baffled. “My name. Larei is my . . . disguise.”
He blinked, his brows knit in confusion. “But you’re—”
“A girl,” I admitted.
“Well, I was going to say a kitchen boy. But . . . there was a rumor, just before we left. About the Sharadan brothers and the rescue. Someone even said that boys were part of the Sharadan brothers.”
What did it matter now? “It’s true. Well, two boys were Sharadan brothers, and two girls. I’m one of them.”
His gaze stayed on my face like he was trying to read a book. “You’re Lord Peitar’s sister and a Sharadan brother? Hoo!”
“Where are we? I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“We’re on the East Road. Come morning we’ll turn south into Orleos.”
“I know that road,” I said, thinking out loud. “We’re on the border of Selenna. I could go home.”
“You can’t go up there alone!”
“Aren’t we too far east for trouble? Everyone says the armies are right outside the city, and we left Miraleste a long time ago.”
“The army might be spread out,” Landos said. “We passed several parties of warriors riding around, searching.”
Even though Selenna House had been burned and looted, and held such bad memories, all of a sudden I just wanted to go home. I’d figure out my next step from there. “I’m good at hiding,” I said.
“I can’t stop you,” Landos said, looking unhappy. “But even for a Sharadan brother, I think it’s dangerous.”
“My whole life has been dangerous lately,” I said. That came out sounding so pompous my face burned, and I got up. “In fact, seems to me, since the moon’s out, the best time for me to go is right now.”
“At least let me give you another sandwich.”
“Thanks!” I said gratefully.
I stashed it in my tunic next to my book, and was on my way.
• • •
THE MOONLIGHT MADE travel easy. I walked until my knees ached so much I couldn’t go on. When I spotted a haystack in a nearby field, I crawled into the middle. It was dry and warm, and I slept until dawn, when a snuffling sound woke me. I pushed the hay aside, and there was a loose horse lipping at the hay. When I stood and laid a hand on its neck, it shook its mane and shifted position. Oh! Waiting to be saddled—that meant it was a riding horse.
I found an upturned wheelbarrow to help me mount, and trotted northward, holding on to the horse’s mane with both fists.
When I saw more bad weather coming, I gobbled down my flat, stale sandwich and braced myself. The deluge was soon so strong that I could barely see an arm’s length ahead. Oddly, the horse seemed to like the rain. The storm moved on near sunset, and there was a familiar line of hills not far ahead. I was near Riveredge.
When the horse began drooping, I slid off. It walked toward the river as I headed for the wall around Selenna House. With the sun gone, the cool air rapidly chilled. My teeth were chattering by the time I spotted the glowing windows of the Riveredge cottages.
I climbed over the wall and made my way through the garden toward Selenna House. I was surprised to see light in Father’s rooms and a distant twinkling, like someone swinging a lantern. Had Lizana come back? Or maybe villagers had taken over the house. At least I was dressed as Larei.
I scaled the argan tree to my room and eased through the now-broken window. The floor was covered with dirt, but the glass had fallen outside.
I was home.
What next? I pulled out the fashion book. It was damp but not soaked. I shoved it under my mattress, then headed downstairs, readying my story. But when I got to the bottom of the stairs, two warriors closed in from either side, one carrying a lantern.
They walked me to Father’s parlor, which had been swept, the ruined furniture replaced with benches and a rickety table from the barn, on which was spread a large map. A man in velvet and jewels held Peitar’s old lap desk, on which he had written so many letters to Derek. He and a burly warrior faced someone by the fire.
It was my uncle in full war gear—a long purple battle tunic over chain mail, gauntlets, sword strapped over his back, knives in the top of each boot. I lurched to a stop, my mouth open.
Uncle Darian gave me a wry glance.
“I am sorry about your father,” he said.
thirteen
“It is you, Lilah, is it not?” When I shrugged, Uncle Darian said, “You look indistinguishable from most of the urchins thieving on the streets.”
“Thieving because they can’t get food any other way.” I tried to sound brave.
“Thieving—most of them—because they like theft. But we will have leisure to discourse on this subject later.” He glanced at my grubby gray tunic and knee pants and bare feet and shook his head. “It is probably the most effective disguise in use,” he continued, his tone sardonic. “I missed you once, didn’t I? Where was that?”
In the kitchen, I thought.
“Ah, yes. The kitchen. What were you doing there, as you did not see fit to make your presence known to me?”
The man in velvet spoke up. “Spying for her traitor brother.” It was Flendar! He pointed at me. “I will wager anything that you’ve found your missing spy for the Sharadan brothers.”
My uncle gave a short laugh, and the big military man said, “If so, she ran you good, Flendar, you must admit.” It was Benoni.
Those swinging lanterns—those had been sentries. “I don’t understand. Why are you here?”
“We decided to wait out the weather in relative comfort,” my uncle said. “And so we set up our command post here. We will rejoin the army when the weather lifts.”
“Command post?” I repeated numbly.
“We constitute the east wing of the army.” He gestured to Benoni, who returned to the papers he was reading.
“I thought you were all outside Miraleste. You mean Bernal’s people are caught between two halves of your army?”
“I’m afraid you’re righ
t,” Uncle Darian said, but he didn’t sound the least bit afraid. “I suppose Diamagan has joined them by now. And your brother?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Now, let me ask you the same question. What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know where they are,” I said. “I came alone. I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Until I can determine the truth of that, you may stay in a safe place.” He addressed the guards in the doorway. “Take my niece to the cellar room I showed you.”
The guards each took hold of one of my arms. They were silent as they led me downstairs and locked me in the treasure room—the same one I’d rescued Derek from before the troubles started.
As soon as I heard the guards leave, I began a feverish, fruitless search for a catch to the secret passage. Peitar had told me there wasn’t one, but maybe he’d just never found it. Finally, exhausted, near tears, I gave up, and curled up on the stone floor. I was startled awake by the clatter of the lock.
The door opened, someone yanked me to my feet and pushed me out, to where Flendar waited.
“Tie her hands,” he said to the guards, then to me, “The weather is not cooperative. We must postpone finishing off Bernal Diamagan’s rabble until we can actually see them. So it’s time for you to show us your skills, Sharadan brother. Ready for a game of fox and hounds?”
I opened my mouth, but no sounds came out.
“You will now find out how they welcome cadets at Obrin. You are the fox, and we are the hounds. If you can’t evade us, you get a thrashing.” He brandished a thin wooden cane.
Up the stairs I stumbled, then the tallest of the guards shoved me down the hall into the foyer.
“Trees are off limits. Thus your hands are bound, to remind you of the rules.”
As we passed Father’s parlor, my uncle looked up from his reading. My fashion book!
Sick with horror, I stared as he said, “You left footprints upstairs leading straight to it.” He sat back, as rain poured outside the window. “I do not have the time to peruse all of this remarkable, if ill-written document. It is very difficult to read, but it’s obvious that you and three other brats are connected to the Sharadan brothers.” He looked at me, waiting for an answer.
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