Shielded

by KayLynn Flanders

  Something tapped against my foot, pulling me out of sleep. Muffled voices spoke in the drawing room. I blinked slowly, exhausted all the way to my bones. The tapping at my foot came again—Chiara’s foot nudging against mine. A muscle in my neck twinged when I lifted my head, and I rubbed the sore spot. Chiara and Mari sat along the wall, awake already.

  “—a guard from Hálendi. She arrived just over a week ago. I tried to have her removed from her post, but the poison didn’t affect her like I expected it to.”

  All vestiges of sleep fled. It didn’t even surprise me to hear confirmation that Koranth had poisoned me. I ground my jaw, wishing I had kicked out the man’s teeth at the ball.

  The chilling voice from the day before answered. “A week?” He paused. “You think this guard from Hálendi is the reason your men cannot find the princesses?”

  “I do. She is…unnaturally skilled.”

  “Tell me, Lord Koranth…” He paused for several long moments. “Does she carry any unusual weaponry?”

  How could he know that? My blood turned to ice. Whoever was outside knew who I was, that I wasn’t dead. Fear paralyzed me. Chiara and Mari watched me mutely, brows furrowed.

  “Why?” I could hear the suspicion in Koranth’s voice.

  “I want to know exactly what we’re up against.” I heard something like papers being shifted around.

  Their voices faded, like they were walking toward the door once again. “Lord Brownlok, we will find the princesses, and the manuscript. We will tear the palace apart until we do.”

  “Rest assured, if I don’t find what I seek, I will tear it apart myself,” Brownlok replied before the door fully shut, burying us in silence once again.

  Brownlok. I pulled in a shaky breath. His voice so similar to Graymere’s. Could it be? I squeezed my eyes shut, but I couldn’t block out the truth I felt in my bones. Brownlok had to be Graymere’s apprentice.

  A mage.

  In the castle.

  And he knew who I was.

  I rubbed my palms over my face. We waited silently several minutes, sitting side by side, listening for any sound. Koranth wanted to connect Riiga with Turia, possibly using Chiara to do so. Was that the reward Brownlok had spoken of yesterday? But Koranth wanted the princesses. Brownlok wanted a manuscript.

  The library. I slapped my palm against my knee. He was searching for the Black Library. And all my research on the mages was conveniently stacked on a shelf in plain sight. I rubbed my forehead, my palm stinging. The illustration of the key wasn’t there, at least. It was in my room, tucked in the folds of Ren’s book, hidden in Irena’s bag under my bed. But did they even need the illustration? Was he searching for something else entirely?

  “Cavolo,” I whispered under my breath, tapping my forehead like I’d seen Yesilia do.

  I was stuck here, in this hole. I couldn’t fight everyone by myself, and I couldn’t trust anyone in the palace. Any magic I had was depleted. I didn’t know how to use it against a mage, anyway.

  But if Brownlok was still searching, it meant he hadn’t found anything. Dread swirled inside me, so I focused on the only thing I could do. Keep the princesses safe.

  “How did he know about your sword, Leinn?” Mari whispered.

  “I don’t know.” I pushed down the panic. “But I think that man, Brownlok, might be a mage.”

  The sisters shrank down, cowering. Maybe I shouldn’t have told them, but they needed to know what we were up against.

  I stood, crouching under the low ceiling, leaning against the wall. If the king attacked the palace, they would have to fight a mage. I could help fight from the king’s ranks, but only if the princesses were already safe. And I wouldn’t put it past Brownlok to burn the castle to the ground on his way out once he found what he was looking for.

  I pushed at the magic, but nothing happened. Tension coiled my muscles tight. I focused my thoughts on making my hand invisible, but it didn’t feel right.

  I lifted my chin. I could do this. I had to do this.

  I breathed in through my nose, letting all thoughts escape as I exhaled. The calm that usually came before battle, the oneness of mind and body, seeped into me. I imagined reaching in and pulling out a silky thread of the liquid magic, then wrapping it around and around my hand. Chiara gasped, and I opened my eyes. My hand was gone. I flexed my fingers, but I could see nothing. A smile spread across my face as I looked up.

  I released the magic, breathing hard.

  “We need to get out of here. Today.”

  “You said it’s too much of a risk,” Chiara protested, eyeing the little door nervously. “We can last a bit longer until help arrives.”

  “You’re right, we could last a bit longer. But sometimes it’s better to take a risk now than be forced to take one when we’re thirsty and starving and more likely to make a mistake.”

  “But—”

  “If your father attacks the palace, there’s a good chance our hiding place could get overrun or destroyed before we escape,” I said. I held out Mari’s bowl, and we each had a few more bites and another swallow of stable water. “Sometimes you have to take a risk.”

  Chiara and Mari looked at each other, then back to me. “Let’s do it,” Mari said, and nodded once, definitively.

  Chiara rubbed her hands together. “When are we breaking out of here?”

  “Tonight,” I said, trying to smile. We’d be up against guards, Koranth, and a mage. I put my hand on the hilt of my sword and pulled a little magic out, hiding the sword from sight. It would have to be enough. I would have to be enough.

  * * *

  The drawing room had been quiet for over an hour. Night had fallen, and we’d eaten the last of the food and drunk the last of the water. The door to our hideout was cracked open in front of me. But I crouched in front of it with my hand tight around the hilt of my sword. Hesitating.

  I hadn’t been able to protect Aleinn. Had run instead of fighting with Hafa. If I’d stayed, maybe…I shook the thought away. Behind me stood two sisters who felt like family, and I would not fail them.

  The door creaked as I eased through it and checked every corner of the room. Empty. Now we had to get into the hall without being seen.

  I wrapped a thread of magic around myself and poked my head out, ready to push the girls back into hiding. Clear. They crept out behind me, and we headed toward the back stairs. Our cautious steps echoed unnaturally, and even the slightest swish of fabric carried farther than it should have. The palace was eerily empty, though somewhere in its walls our enemies waited.

  Footsteps approached, one set. We ducked into the shadow of a plant and a settee, and I focused on the magic within me, fanning it out, shielding us from one man with tired, slow steps. Sweat trickled down my back. He walked right by our hiding spot.

  I could hear others in the large banquet hall, their voices rising over the rain beating against the glass and leaking over the tiles in the hall, but no one was coming closer. We dashed up the servants’ stairway to the third floor, where Ren’s book hid in my little room.

  Had I made a mistake bringing the princesses out of hiding? The shield around us flickered once, and Mari slipped her hand into mine. Her touch resonated within me, strengthened me. I took a deep breath and buried my doubt.

  I heard the two guards before I saw them. I pushed Chiara and Mari into my tiny room. The men were already in the hallway, so I didn’t shut the door. The guards paused to look out the window at something.

  Go, I urged silently. Eventually, they continued down the hall. When they were out of sight, I dove under my bed, grabbing Irena’s bag. I dug through it, pulling out the clothes and pocketing the book, the illustration still tucked safely inside.

  “That’s all we need?” Mari asked.

  I put my finger over my lips and nodded. “What’s the fastest way to the dun
geon from here?” I whispered.

  “Follow me,” Mari said, and we all went back into the hall.

  The palace was quiet. Too quiet. Urgency bled through the tiles of the floor, pressing us on, down hallways I’d never seen. But Mari knew them.

  “Wait,” I hissed as Mari tore around a corner. I was only a breath behind, but she was already in the next hall, a servant near the end staring right at her. My magic responded, wrapping around all three of us. The woman gasped, then rubbed her eyes.

  “What is it?” a man in uniform asked, his voice gruff, his hand on his sword as he came out of a room.

  The woman shook her head, opened her mouth, then shut it again. “Nothing. I thought I saw something…but there’s nothing there.”

  My heartbeat pounded in my ears as we stood, frozen against the stone wall of the hall.

  The man stared right through us. “Better send a message. Lord Brownlok told us to alert him if anything strange happened.”

  He walked closer, his boots clicking on the tile. All three of us held our breath as he passed. The servant shook her head again and went down a stairway.

  I took Mari’s hand, and we ran down the passage, then tiptoed down the stairs behind the servant. When we reached the bottom, we stopped. Only one corridor was left before the stairs to the dungeon—the long servants’ hallway. I snuck a look around the corner. It was empty. I dropped our shield and leaned against the wall. It had been over a day since I’d eaten anything more than a handful of nuts. My throat ached with thirst.

  We kept to the edge of the hall, treading as softly and swiftly as we could. It seemed like it took an hour, step by careful step, to make our way to the end.

  No light pierced the darkness of the narrow staircase that led to the dungeon, no way of knowing what awaited us at the bottom. I looked back down the hall once more, desperate for any other way.

  Echoing footsteps approached. I still had magic in me, but the exhaustion and lack of food were draining me faster than I’d hoped.

  “The steps are likely to be steep and uneven,” I whispered, “so don’t go too fast.” I pulled the dagger out of my boot and handed it to Chiara. “Mari, stay in the middle. Chiara, if someone comes up behind us, defend your sister.”

  She took the dagger, shifted her grip on it, and nodded once.

  “There will be at least one guard in the dungeon. Maybe more. Stay against the wall and let me handle it. Let’s go.”

  I took each step deliberately, feeling out the edge with one hand braced against the wall. After the first turn in the spiral stairs, a few loose pebbles scattered and fell over the edge. The plink of rock against rock was quiet, but I tensed, waiting for someone to rush up the stairs in the dark. No one came, but I brushed the steps clear with my boot after that.

  Halfway down, I felt a stirring in my middle, like a ripple or a shock wave passing over us. Urgency vibrated again where the tethers used to be, a pulse from a single silken thread inside. I picked up my pace down the last turn, dread settling over me.

  A torch at the bottom of the stairs cast shadows over a damp wood door to the antechamber. There was no grate, so I crouched to the floor to look under the crack. I spied table legs and those belonging to a single chair, but nothing more. If there was a guard, he wasn’t there.

  I adjusted my grip on my sword and pushed the door open. I was wrong.

  A guard sat on the single chair I’d seen, his feet propped up on the table. He leapt to his feet, his eyes widening as the princesses filed in behind me. There was no point in hiding behind my shield—he’d seen us, he’d run to get Brownlok, and I’d rather fight him than a mage. So I saved my magic, my strength.

  Murmurs rose from the occupied cells as Chiara and Mari ran to an open cell against the wall, and I charged at the guard.

  He was fast, but I dodged his first blow and swung at his legs. He met me sword for sword, rebuffing my attack. This wasn’t some mangy recruit—this was a fully trained palace guard. I stepped back, letting him spend his energy while I defended. Exhaustion slowed my movements, but he was getting sloppy. I was darting forward to disarm him when I felt the shock wave again, this time so powerful I stumbled back, missing my opportunity to end the fight.

  Something fluttered in my middle—another tether? I gasped as the need to escape filled me. I recognized the feeling. I’d felt it in the Wild, and again in Teano.

  I was being followed.

  If I didn’t make it into the tunnel and get the princesses to safety, we’d be trapped.

  I parried a blow and danced around the man, testing his range, swinging faster and harder. I blocked his attack and twisted, leaving my left side exposed. He took the bait and sliced into my arm. The wound burned, but I finished the turn and pushed my sword into his exposed ribs. Muffled cheers sounded from within the cells as I watched the life drain from his eyes, and the darkness inside me unfurled and stretched.

  We needed to leave. Now.

  I pushed my foot against his chest and yanked my sword out, then wiped it on the bottom of his filthy tunic. I swallowed against the newest image that would torture my dreams.

  The dungeon was nothing more than a low rock ceiling, a dirt floor, and a row of wooden doors with a square of grating in the middle. No sign of a tunnel out. “Chiara? Mari?”

  The door to the stairwell shattered, and a wave of energy blew through the room. The table slammed into me, lifting me off my feet and into the wall. My head filled with stars as I crumpled to the floor, and it took three tries to fill my lungs with air. I raised my head, and my stomach dropped.

  A cloaked figure, fluid and dark, filled the doorway, the light from the torch glancing off. A shade mage.

  He lifted his black sword and glided into the room, sweeping a hand at the fallen chair between us. It flew into the stone wall, splintering into pieces. He waved his hand at me next, but I was ready this time and punched my left hand forward. Power surged into my ring and seeped into my core.

  I stood, and our weapons met with muted clangs. The shade mage blended with the shadows in the room, flitting around, attacking from every angle with magic and sword. His blade cut through my uniform, but I danced out of reach of its poison. Mari’s frightened face was at the forefront of my mind. It couldn’t end like this. I couldn’t leave her at this shade’s mercy.

  Blood dripped down my arm from the guard’s blow, covering my ring and hand. I was slowing down, physically and mentally. The focus that I needed in a fight was eluding me. My throat was a desert of sand and rock; I didn’t have enough water in my system to even sweat. I could feel my body overheating. But still I fought, defending against blow after blow. This shade was faster than the ones I’d met in the forest. He blocked me almost before I attacked, like he knew me.

  I reached to parry his blade, but was late to catch a blast of magic. A glancing blow to my left shoulder struck with enough force to shove me against the wall. A bone crunched. Blackness and light swirled together in front of me as pain vibrated out. I tried to stop his next attack, but he slashed his blade into my thigh, right below the pocket that held Ren’s book. I slid down the wall, unable to move or even think from the pain in my shoulder and the ice in my leg.

  “Hey! We’re over here!” Chiara stood just inside a cell, holding my dagger with a trembling hand.

  The shade mage turned before I registered what was happening. No. I reached out with my hand, sword still clutched in it, and the door to the cell swung shut with a bang.

  I pulled myself up, balancing on one leg. My left hand was fisted across my stomach, useless from the agony in my shoulder.

  “You have more power than I expected in one so young and inexperienced.”

  The shade’s murky voice grated down my spine. He lifted his hand, and an invisible force crashed against me, pinning me against the wall.

  I couldn’t b
reathe. My ribs started to ache from the pressure. The shade mage took slow, measured steps toward me. His features were blurred, but his menace oozed into my mind, filling it with despair.

  The shade leaned closer. “You will never—”

  A blinding light flashed in my vision, and the force smashing into me vaporized. The shade’s shriek echoed off the stone walls.

  Chiara stood before me, holding a torch in shaking hands. “Where—” She stopped when she saw me.

  I was on my feet but leaning heavily against the wall. My ring burned hot, and the shard of ice in my leg was already spreading. I didn’t want my blood in Mari’s nightmares, but could I hide only my injuries? I closed my eyes and focused on accessing the magic in the ring—fanning it around my form, shielding my injuries from sight, keeping the poison at bay. My body wanted to be healed; I just needed to get the magic to stitch it back together.

  Mari peeked out from the cell, knife in hand. “Is he gone?”

  I slid to the floor to rest my leg while I could.

  “Chiara,” my voice barely scratched out of my throat. “Get the keys from the guard and release everyone in the cells.”

  Instead of obeying my orders, she put the torch back in its sconce, tore a strip off her skirt and started wrapping it around my wounded leg. I gasped as she tightened it. The wound throbbed with every beat of my heart. But at least I was still alive. I would get the sisters out of the palace.

  Mari was at the end of the room brushing at the dirt on the floor. “The door is here!”

  Chiara unlocked the cell doors and servants piled into the anteroom, too many people with nowhere to go. “Sneak back into the palace in small groups,” she said as she ushered everyone toward the walls to make space. “Hide until my father returns.”

  Master Romo was the last out of the cell. “The king is camped in the valley. We will arm ourselves however we can and fight when the time is right.” A murmur of assent rippled through the dungeon. I squeezed my eyes shut and a tear slipped down my cheek, a mix of relief and pain. The king was here.