by Emma Fenton
“Move,” he said, dragging her along with him.
Using magic, he cleared a path, leaving piles of dead soldiers in their wake. It wasn’t nearly enough, though. He couldn’t take them all out at once, and there were so many of Izan’s soldiers. They crowded around them, pressing ever closer. The palace guards did their best, but more often than not, Ria saw her men fall to the ground at Izan’s feet.
She felt like she was in a dream, one of those nightmares where you’re running, terrified, from something, but you can never move fast enough. One of those nightmares where you get caught. The clang of swords was so constant it melded into white noise, and all she could see was blood and death no matter what direction she turned.
Peryn was busy clearing the path in front of them, but one of Izan’s soldiers came up from the side, sword raised to strike him from his blind spot. But he’s not guarding against me, she realized. Ria didn’t think, she just moved. She drove the ceremonial knife forward, lodging it firmly in the man’s nearest eye, swallowing her own bile when the eye burst, spraying onto her hand.
The soldier screamed and Peryn whipped around, eyes immediately seeking her out. Then he looked at the screaming man, took in the blade lodged in his eye, and turned back to Ria.
“Don’t waste your energy protecting me,” he said, continuing to pull her forward. Raise hand; snap neck. Raise hand; snap neck. The two men fell to the ground, lifeless. “No mortal can hurt me. Except you.”
Oh. Right. She’d completely forgotten about that. She’d just seen the man going for him, and she’d reacted.
They were almost at the doors, just a few paces away. Ria could see that the hallway just outside was also crowded with Izan’s soldiers. She pushed down her rising panic. We made it this far. Just a little farther.
The doors slammed shut and dark magic filled the air.
Ria and Peryn whipped around, ready to kill Izan if he was stupid enough to face off with them directly. But it wasn’t Izan; he was halfway across the room driving his sword through another one of Ria’s guards. The three Councilmen stood before them, hands raised, each muttering something unintelligible under their breaths. But she could feel the magic, how it clung to the door, sealing them in this room.
“You?” she said, the word slipping out of its own accord. Her eyes darted between the three of them, unable to fully process. But they’re supposed to be under Izan’s control. And yet the evidence was in front of her now that Izan had never been the one wielding magic. He’d only been using his sword during the fight. But the Council…they’d been behind everything all along, hadn’t they?
“Ria.”
Peryn’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. They were cornered now, backed against the door while the Council and Izan’s soldiers closed in on them. Ria closed her eyes for a moment. There was no way they could take them all, even with Peryn’s magic, and she’d left her own weapon in that man’s eye. She opened her eyes, jaw clenched. It didn’t matter. If she died, then at least she could try to take down as many of Izan’s soldiers as possible, maybe one of the Councilmen too.
Peryn, however, didn’t seem to share her thoughts. He pulled her close to him, wrapping her up in his arms and backing them both towards the nearest corner. A part of her wanted to yell at him that he was only boxing them in more. Doesn’t he realize we’ll be at even more of a disadvantage fighting out of a literal corner?
She felt when his back hit the wall.
“This won’t be very pleasant for you, I’m afraid,” he said, voice low in her ear. And then, before she could ask what he was talking about, he pulled her into the shadows with him, and the great hall faded to black.
***
Travelling through the shadows was like nothing Ria had ever experienced before, and like nothing she ever wanted to experience again. All of the air had been forcefully pushed from her lungs. Her entire body felt compressed, flattened, as if she were as two-dimensional as a drawing on paper. She could see nothing, feel nothing, not even Peryn’s arms around her. It was as if her consciousness had been plucked from her body entirely and forced to exist on its own without a shell to contain it.
And then she was plummeting. There was no wind resistance, no sign of movement, nothing to indicate motion in the slightest, and yet she was absolutely certain that she was falling and falling fast.
She blinked.
I can blink again, she thought, and then she was gasping for air to fill her lungs. She could feel her body again—something she’d never been consciously aware of but had desperately missed in the past few seconds—as well as Peryn’s holding her up.
“I apologize if that was a bit rough,” he said. “I’ve never taken a mortal through.”
She frowned up at him. “How did you know it wouldn’t kill me?”
He grimaced. “I didn’t.”
Ria didn’t have an answer for that. She looked around instead, realizing that they were in her bedroom. Great, we’re still in the palace, she thought, eyes drifting towards the door automatically.
“I wasn’t sure if you could take a longer jump,” he said by way of reasoning as he unbound their hands. Ria pursed her lips. No, she was fairly certain she could not have taken a longer jump, as he’d put it.
“We need less conspicuous clothes,” she said, glancing down at her gown. It was splattered with blood and the hem was absolutely soaked. Peryn didn’t look much better. “And we have to be quick. They’ll start searching the palace soon enough.”
Ria went over to her wardrobe and reached down into the bottom where she kept her contraband men’s clothes. If they were going on the run, she’d prefer not to be slowed down just because she was wearing a dress. She reached behind her, trying to find the lacing that tied up her dress, but her arms were not quite long enough to reach it. Speaking of cumbersome dresses, she thought bitterly.
“Help me with this,” she said, walking over to Peryn.
“Impatient for the wedding night?” he quipped as his fingers quickly unlaced the back of her dress, exposing her bare skin to the air. He paused for a second, the tips of his fingers lingering on her back for a moment before he cleared his throat. “You can probably handle it from here. I’ll just…go get my own clothes.”
He was gone by the time she turned around. She should’ve been grateful that he was uncharacteristically giving her a moment of privacy without having to be asked, but she felt exposed without him nearby. Izan and the Council were still in the palace, and she knew they could burst in at any time. With that thought in mind, she hurriedly stepped out of her dress and slipped on the pants and shirt.
Just as she was buttoning the top button, the handle on her bedroom door jiggled. Ria jolted, hand already reaching for the knife at her belt. The doorknob jiggled again, and then it twisted ever so slowly. She swallowed back her bile and sent out a silent prayer that Peryn would come back soon.
The door opened, revealing only a small serving girl who looked vaguely familiar. She was carrying two brown packs, one on each shoulder, and didn’t look the least bit surprised to see Ria pointing a knife at her.
“Your majesty,” the girl said. She couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen at most, small and unnoticeable the way servants often were. But as Ria looked at her, she could remember seeing the girl before. She delivered notes for the Elder Scholar, Ria realized.
Still, she didn’t lower her knife, just in case. “What do you have there?”
“For your trip, your majesty,” the girl said. “Food, mostly, and a little money, though that is not the currency you will be using most.”
Great, someone else who gives cryptic answers. “And what currency will I be using then?”
The girl only smiled. “Something you have in spades, your majesty.”
Ria narrowed her eyes. “Are you a seer, too?”
“An apprentice.”
Finally. A straight answer. Sort of.
“We need to hurry,” Peryn said, popping back in
to the room. He caught sight of the girl and immediately raised his hand. Ria grabbed his wrist.
“She’s helping us,” she said. The girl smiled, completely unconcerned.
“How do we know we can trust her?” he pointed out. The girl raised a brow at him, then looked over his shoulder, eyes glazing over for a moment in a way that Ria was all too familiar with.
“Go. Take the passage Sofi takes at night,” the serving girl said, voice airy and slightly detached. “Head towards the town. A friend awaits.”
Just like that, the girl blinked, and her eyes focused once again. She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin as if daring either of them to doubt her.
“You should come with us,” Ria urged, taking one of the packs and handing the other to Peryn. “You won’t be safe here if they find out what you are.”
“I’ll make my own way, my Queen.” The young girl smiled. “Now go, or they’ll catch you.”
Ria nodded and grabbed Peryn’s hand, pulling him behind her as she made her path down to the kitchens. They only had to pause once, ducking behind a wall as a group of Izan’s soldiers passed, clearly already on the lookout for them. She and Peryn slipped out the servants’ door and crawled out through the gap in the fence without running into anymore of Izan’s men. Probably all guarding the main gate, Ria thought as they ducked into the forest. It would give them cover halfway to town, and from there, the crowds would be thick enough they wouldn’t be easily noticed.
At least, she hoped.
***
They managed to make it to the town without being spotted, but Ria had underestimated Izan again. Not only was his personal army milling about searching for her and Peryn, but the royal army too. And it appeared as if the two factions were working together, not fighting as they had back in the great hall. Not wanting to risk being caught, they had ducked into the nearest building: an old, run-down warehouse that stored sacks of grain and wheat.
And that was where they had stayed, hoping to wait out the worst of the search party. The sun was getting low over the horizon now, the orange glow visible through the cracked windows, and still they could hear the soldiers shouting from outside. Ria’s legs ached from crouching so long, and she was starting to regret taking the serving girl’s advice. If we’d stuck to the woods, kept off the main roads, away from the towns, we wouldn’t be trapped in storeroom right now, she thought bitterly. The girl had said a friend was waiting. But who? And waiting where?
“When night falls, we’ll move,” Peryn said quietly. “It’ll be easier to hide in the dark.”
She glared at him. “I’m not going through your shadows again.”
“Probably smart,” he admitted. “I don’t know if you’d survive repeated exposure.”
She hummed noncommittally and returned to ignoring him. In the mayhem of escaping the palace, she’d set aside her anger with him in favor of getting out alive, but in the silence of the storeroom she had nothing but her thoughts to distract her. She hadn’t forgiven him for using her to get the souls, for manipulating her into thinking she could trust him. Maybe it was true that he hadn’t lied to her, but he also hadn’t made his intentions entirely clear, and she hated feeling like she’d been taken for a fool.
It didn’t help in the slightest that Peryn was being so smug about Izan.
“Bet you wish you’d killed him now,” he had said at least three times on their way into town, and twice more after they’d already set up in the storeroom.
She hadn’t been able to admit out loud that he was right, but that didn’t stop it from being true. Their current situation was so much worse than whatever fallout would have occurred if she’d just executed Izan when she had the chance. Who knew what warped version of the truth Izan was spinning to her people?
No doubt making himself look like the hero. She had known Izan was a threat, but she had only thought of him as being damaging in the physical sense. She had feared that he would kill her or control her, but it had never occurred to her that he might try to destroy the already-weak faith the Helish people had in her. She had never considered that she—the Queen of Helhath—would have to go into hiding because they had been convinced she was bewitched by her fiancé. She knew it wouldn’t take more than a seed of doubt for the conspiracy to spread throughout the country like an invasive weed. It wouldn’t be undone easily. Some people might never trust in her again, unless she somehow managed to prove his treason.
Ria was torn between laughter and tears. The problem with magic, she thought, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, is that it’s nearly impossible to prove that someone has used it. And equally impossible to disprove.
The only comfort Ria took from the whole ordeal was that Peryn was not yet crowned king, which meant he couldn’t take the ten thousand souls from her people like he wanted. Perhaps the gods had heard her prayer after all. Perhaps Izan was their punishment for her.
The warehouse doors opened abruptly. Ria and Peryn pressed themselves low to the wall as two soldiers of the royal army walked into the storeroom, swords already drawn. Ria held her breath. Please don’t see us. Just leave. Just turn around and leave. They didn’t. The soldiers started methodically checking behind every grain sack and in every dark corner. They were on the other side of the room for now, but it wouldn’t be long before Ria and Peryn were found.
She glanced over at the door. Maybe we could make a run for it. The thought was quickly dispelled when she noticed two more soldiers standing watch in the doorway. Peryn tapped on her shoulder, and she turned to look at him.
“Stay low,” he mouthed at her. And then he melded into the shadows. She reached out to stop him from leaving her alone, but her hand clenched around empty air. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to control her breathing, tried not to start crying now. She didn’t have the time.
He doesn’t really expect me to get out of this by myself, does he? She clutched her knife in her hand. She might be able to take out one soldier if she was lucky, but four? Impossible. And Peryn had to know that. His exact words, if she recalled correctly, were, “You’re an abysmal fighter.” Maybe he’s really lost it, she thought.
“Gentlemen, be reasonable,” Peryn said, suddenly appearing on the opposite side of the room.
“Witch!” one soldier called, advancing with his sword. This drew the attention of the two men guarding the door, and they called out for reinforcements.
“Or don’t. That’s fine, too.” Peryn raised his hands, using his magic to strike the men down with ease.
Was this his whole plan? Draw all the attention to our hiding spot? She glared at him, though she knew he couldn’t see. What an idiot.
Soldiers rushed in faster than he could take them out, but he was careful not to let any of them get too close. To their credit, they didn’t seem overly deterred by the fact that Peryn could kill them without touching them. They just kept rushing forward, each one trying to distract him long enough for someone to make the killing strike. If only they knew how hopeless it was.
“Run,” he called out suddenly, and Ria knew he was talking to her. The soldiers were surrounding him, not anywhere near her own hiding place, and he’d lured them away from the door as well. She bolted and didn’t turn back. Peryn would catch up with her soon, she was sure.
She darted through the streets, the buildings and people blurring together until Ria could barely tell where she was going. She knocked into one man, all but shoving him to the ground, and hurtled over an elderly woman’s vegetable cart. Distantly, she could hear the soldiers behind her, shouting, and she thought they might be getting closer. But still, she didn’t turn back, just kept running. She focused on the slap of her boots against the cobblestone, the sound of her own breathing in her ears. She swiveled through the side streets and alleyways. Left. Right. Left. Right.
She froze. Looming before her was a very run-down, very familiar tavern. The Sunken Reef. She could hear the echo of the soldiers’ footsteps closing
in behind her and made a split-second decision. She pushed open the door as quietly as she could and slipped inside the tavern, staying close to the wall. It was no less filthy than the last time she’d been there, still dimly lit and filled with the shadiest sort of folk, but it was crowded enough that she could probably go unnoticed.
Almost as soon as the thought passed through her head, however, a firm hand clamped down on her shoulder. Ria kicked instinctively, but whoever had grabbed her was careful not to get hit. They dragged her to one of the back tables and shoved her into a chair before throwing a grimy brown cloak over her and pulling the hood up so that it hung low over her eyes.
“You’re most conspicuous person I’ve ever met,” the person grumbled as they sat across from her, pulling the hood of their own cloak down just enough to flash his face. Siraj. Ria breathed a sigh of relief.
“What—”
“Keep your head down and your mouth shut,” he said, shoving a small pile of cards towards her. She frowned down at them.
“I don’t have time—”
Siraj cut her off with a look. “What did I say?” His eyes flashed over to the door, lips pressing into a thin line. Without thinking, Ria started to turn and look, but Siraj grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. “What did I say?”
“Head down, mouth shut,” she repeated grudgingly.
“Good.” His eyes flickered over her shoulder once more, and then he forced the tension from his shoulders, lounging back in his chair as if he owned the whole tavern. “Now pick up your damn cards.”
She did as she was told this time, and they played a quiet round of Dead Man Draw. The tavern around them had quieted significantly, enough that she could now he the clanking metal of soldiers’ armor, but Ria forced herself not to look. It was awful, having her back to them. She wanted to reach for the knife sheathed at her hip but dared not move. She continued to play her cards and watched Siraj’s face instead. He was subtle, but his eyes darted up every few seconds, keeping track of the soldiers as they circled the room behind her.
