by Janeal Falor
“Does anyone know if Wilric is back?” I ask.
“He is,” Afet says. “He got back about an hour ago, Your Majesty. He said if we saw you before he did, to tell you he's found nothing so far.”
Drat and double drat.
If he hadn't just gotten back, I'd take him with me, but he's going to need his sleep. I'll go with what I have. I look my guards over. They're wearing their uniforms. “I need all of you to go change into something black.”
“We can't leave you alone, Your Majesty,” Eldim says.
“Then go one at a time. Better yet, I'll come with you.” I look at the servant. “Please stay here. I will be back before sunup.”
He looks like he wants to protest, but all he does is bow. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Stird leads the way while Eldim, Afet, and a familiar guard whose name I don't know, follow me. We go through the palace halls, down a secret hallway, and come out by the barracks, next to the one Nash was staying in.
My gut feels as if it's been punched.
I hurry past, trying to ignore the feeling, but it won’t go away. It kicks at me, making my stomach sore.
I wait outside the guards’ building with the group, while they each take a turn changing so as not to leave me alone.
Once they're all in black, Afet says, “If I may inquire, Your Majesty, what are we doing?”
“Looking for Nash.”
They all nod, like this is what they expected. I wait for someone to protest, but none of them do. We make our way to the portcullis, where we're stopped by a guard. I give him a look, and he bows. “Your Majesty, forgive me. I didn't expect to see you out at this hour. How may we be of service?”
“I am going to go into the city. Let us pass, and then let us back in when I return.”
He looks to one side, then the other. “I… um…”
“You won't fight me on this. You won't get Jaku. You will let us through.” I put a hand on my dagger.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He bows again.
I shake my head, still not used to such deference. It's a little hard to handle. But he does his job. He tells another guard to have the portcullis lifted, and soon we are out into the city. The park area is lit with torches, bringing a flickering beauty to the area.
Where do we search first? “Let's see if I missed anything at Daros's house.”
“I'm not sure we brought enough guards to protect you,” the female guard says.
I narrow my eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Julina, Your Majesty.”
She has pretty brown hair and dazzling green eyes. None of that will help us in a fight, though.
“Don’t you trust your abilities?” I ask.
“I do. Only—forgive me, but—you are the queen.” She says the last word in a whisper, though there's no one around the palace grounds this time of night. “I'm worried about what would happen if someone got wind of this. Last time, you drew a huge crowd. This time, if that happens…”
They might maul me, after what I did to their taxes.
Is this want Daros wanted? To turn the people against me? Why not try to kill me and be done with it? What does he have to gain from this plan? Now’s not the time to worry over it.
“Either you trust your abilities, or you can leave us now. I am fine doing this on my own.” I don't need their help.
She straightens. “I'm coming.”
I should have tested them before bringing them out, but there was no time.
I move at an almost run, grateful there are no people out to stall me. As we go through the streets, it's hard not to remember other times I've been out like this. Times I was sent to kill.
I shiver.
I can't get lost in regrets. I have to keep going.
Several minutes later, we arrive at Daros's. It's dark. Every house around here is, with everyone gone off to bed some time ago.
It’d be nice to do the same.
I enter the house without knocking. If someone is here, I don't want them aware of our presence. I find several candle holders in the first room, light them, and pass them out.
I tiptoe through the house, my guards close by and noisier than I want. Other than that, it's eerily silent. So much so, I'm almost grateful for my guards’ noise.
Each room is barer than the last, like someone came through and took what they wanted from the house. Looters? My guess is Daros. I can't see him allowing looters to take what belongs to him. But I have been wrong before.
When we get to the office, I hesitate. No one is inside, but the memories flood me. I often came to his office in the middle of the night after finishing a job, hating myself even as he told me well done. The kindest words I ever got out of him.
He'd pour a glass of wine and celebrate while I watched. Sick. Hurting. Lonely. It's not something I want to relive now any more than I wanted to live it then.
I shove the thoughts away as I scour the room for any sign of him. Nothing is different from the last time I was here, except maybe the chill in the air.
I move into the secret room. Nothing here. Not even the dead body and torture devices. The body was properly taken care of, but what happened to the torture devices?
A sickening thought hits me.
He took them to use them on Nash.
The world sways. I brace myself against the nearest wall.
“Your Majesty?” A faint whisper yet frantic in tone. “Are you all right? What happened?”
I have to pull myself together. I can't help Nash if I'm wobbly at the thought of those devices. I knew what they were doing to him.
I shouldn’t have come here.
Shouldn’t have reminded myself of what Daros is capable of.
“Has anyone been watching this house?” I hope against hope that someone has. That someone saw something but didn't think to report it.
My guards share gazes. Finally, Afet says, “I don't believe a watch was set up, Your Highness.”
I punch the wall. My knuckles barely feel the sting, but my heart aches from it.
“Let's go,” I say. “There's nothing for us here.”
Tight-lipped and pale, the escorts follow me out.
Once we're back in the open, Stird asks, “Where to now?”
Good question. I haven't the faintest idea. If Daros had left a clue behind… Of course, he's much too smart for that. If he left anything behind, it'd be because he wanted us to see it.
He wanted me to know those torture devices went missing.
My head swims.
I can't do this.
But I have to.
“We'll check out the warehouse district by the market.” It's not an area I frequented often, but it seems like a good place to hide someone. Lots of people are going in and out all the time, but there are empty buildings too.
Eldim leads the way. As much as I feel like I could be doing this on my own, I'm grateful for their support. If they weren’t here, I might curl up in a ball and never unwind.
At first, the streets remain quiet, people in the richer districts having gone to bed some time ago. As we near the warehouse section, first there’s one person on the streets, then a few. I keep my focus on our destination, pretending I belong on the streets as much as I did months ago.
There's more to the warehouses than I remember. So many places to hide Nash, and we don't even know if he's here.
I move to the closest warehouse and put my ear to the door. Nothing. I try the handle. Locked. No problem. I slip out my lock-picking tools and have it unlocked within a minute. I nod for the others to go inside. A couple do, and the rest follow me in.
It's dark inside. I wait for my eyes to adjust. There are wooden crates with something in them. It smells of oil, grease, and fish. I switch to breathing through my mouth. We pick our way through aisles of boxes, finding nothing in the big warehouse except more boxes. They aren't big enough to hide a human the size of Nash, even if Daros’s men tried to squeeze him in as a form a torture.
> We go through several more buildings with more of the same. Only the smell is different. I'm beginning to feel it's a hopeless task. I knew Daros wouldn't make it easy, but I had to try.
Though it's still dark out, more people are showing up. Work down here must start early. A few watch us with careful eyes, but most ignore us.
“What now?” Stird asks.
“We continue searching.” Though we can't hold out much longer with this many people about.
“What about the workers?” Afet keeps an eye on the ones closest to us.
“I am who I am,” I say. “I can go wherever I want.” It had better be true. I don't want to push my luck, but I do want to find him.
We approach the next unsearched warehouse. It's smaller than the others, but could easily hold a mountain of food. We'll search this last one, and then head back to the palace for the night. Morning is nearing.
We slip inside. It has a dusty scent, but nothing stronger, though crates are stacked around. We wind our way through the aisles but there are only crates. There's nothing here to lead us to Nash.
This search was a waste.
I want to throw my dagger in frustration, but refrain.
Afet leads us out of the warehouse onto the streets. It's lighter outside—not by a lot, but enough that I can see a little better. We have to return to the palace so they don't worry about me.
“Hey,” a male voice rings out. “What do you think you were doing in my warehouse?”
Trouble.
“We're from the palace, on official duty,” Afet says. “We're looking for something.”
The man sneers. “From the palace, huh? I don't think you have a right to any of my stuff. Jop, get over here.”
Another man approaches. He has enough muscles to rival any of my guards. Of course, my guards are trained, and odds are, this man isn’t.
“These people are from the palace. Been snooping around my stuff,” the first man tells Jop.
Jop scowls at us. “You aren't allowed in here. Go back and tell your queen she’s taken everything from us. There's nothing left for her here.”
Maybe that's why the last warehouse had no distinctive smell—all the crates were empty. It's enough to make me tense. I didn't want to take everything from them. If I could just find Nash, I’d change things back to how they were.
A chilling thought hits me.
Why would they give him back if they know I will return everything to the way it should be?
They'll keep him alive until he's of no more use to them, then kill him.
I sway.
“We'll be getting out of your way.” Stird takes a step back.
“I don't think so,” Jop says. “Someone needs to pay for what your queen has done.”
“Don't you think we agree with you?” I say coming to my senses. I have to get us out of this situation before I fall apart. “We weren't the ones to play with your taxes. It's that queen.”
He eyes me like he's trying to decide if he should believe me or not.
“It's true,” Julina says. “We hate what she's done as much as you do.”
“Then why are you down here, doing her business?”
“Because we still have to do our jobs, like you have to do yours.” She is steady. Calm.
I can't stand here, arguing. “Look. We have to go, but the queen is going to be listening to grievances from the people again today. You should go to the castle and complain about what she's done.”
“I know something that would send her a better message.” Jop grins like he won something.
Others are moving closer, surrounding us. My fingers itch to grab my daggers, but I don't just yet. No sense starting a fight if there's a way to avoid it.
“We don't want any trouble,” I say. “Please go see the queen later today, and you can discuss this with her.”
“Too bad we want trouble.” Jop pulls out a sword. All around we hear the faint scratch of blades being drawn.
I grit my teeth. I don't want to hurt any of my people, but neither can I let them hurt me or my escorts.
“Please,” Afet says. “We just want to leave peacefully.”
“Not happening.”
“Fine. But don't say we didn't give you a chance to run away.” I throw my daggers before they know what's coming to them. One lands in Jop's right arm, and the other in the first man's right bicep. They both drop their swords with curses.
“Don't stand there,” Jop screams. “Get them.”
“Try not to hurt them too badly,” I call out.
It's not a fair fight, by a long shot. The only thing that gives the people fighting against me a chance is that we're not trying to hurt them if possible, but we’re also not putting ourselves in danger; we're trying to work our way out of here.
The scent of fresh blood fills the air. I want to gag, but instead, keep my weapons at the ready. A man comes barreling at me. I raise my weapons, but Julina steps in front of me, blocking his access to me. All around me, my guards are fighting, their swords flashing but not injuring.
I step toward the street we need to use to get out of here, and the others follow suit even as they continue their fight. The clang of metal and cursing sounds through the street. If we don’t hurry, we’re going to attract more attention to ourselves, which is the last thing we need.
If only there was a way to knock them out, but my poisons kill; they don’t just simply render the subject unconscious. My blades do the same. I’ll have to choke out our attackers or knock them unconscious.
The men we’re brawling against are tenacious, banging their weapons as hard as they can against my soldiers’ blades. Despite that, their rebuttals are weakening. Their faces grow desperate.
“We won’t hurt you if you give up now,” I call out.
Instead of having the effect I want my words to, they growl, bringing new life to the fray. I should keep my mouth shut.
We work our way back, me trying to get in, to help my guards fight, and them blocking me even as they struggle to get people off.
I’m making this worse on them than if I wasn’t trying to help them.
I helplessly continue to inch back toward the street as they fight and move as a group. My guards are well-trained, aiming their blades toward limbs but not hacking them off—barely nicking them, but doing enough damage that the men are hesitant.
A hiss sounds behind me. I turn to find Julina punching a man. The man goes down.
“Are you all right?” I ask her.
“Just a scratch. Come on. Let’s go while there’s an opening.”
I follow after her, the other guards bringing up the rear. The men they were fighting cheer behind us like they won the clash. That they don’t understand how much my soldiers were holding back is for the best.
“Any other injuries besides Julina?” I ask, once we’re several blocks away and have slowed to a fast walk.
No one replies. Either they’re not hurt, or they don’t want to admit to it.
“Julina, show me your injury,” I say.
“I’m fine.”
“Show me.” I use my voice that means business.
She grunts but turns toward me and rolls up the sleeve of her shirt. There, on her lower bicep, is a deep cut.
“You’ll need stitches,” I say, as I cut part of the bottom of my shirt. I wrap the wound to slow the bleeding and tie it off, careful not to make contact with her skin.
She gives me a look I don’t understand.
“Thank you,” she says.
Is that what that look is? Gratitude? Maybe a little awe mixed in? I turn away. We have a long way before we make it back to the palace.
Chapter 23
We show up to the open portcullis, a bedraggled group. There are several more guards than usual, along with Jaku.
I glare at the guard who lets us in.
“Don't blame him,” Jaku says. “I went looking for you last night and couldn't find you. What were you doing going out without tellin
g me?”
I want to use my old excuse of I am the queen but it feels trite. Besides, Jaku has been nothing but helpful. Something dawns on me. “Were you coming to find me because you have news?”
He forms a thin line with his lips as he shakes his head. “I'm afraid there's no news. I was checking in on you, to make sure everything was all right. I'm being extra cautious, with what's happened.”
“At least there hasn't been an attack on my life.” There have only been a couple since the ball. Nothing major that I’m aware of.
“Don't jinx it.”
I head toward the palace in the growing sunlight as the men lower the portcullis. “Superstitious?”
“Not in the least, but where you're life is concerned, we can't be too careful.”
“Have there been queens that didn’t get attacks on their lives?”
“Some have less. That's why some live longer than others. Of course, that also tends to make us complacent.”
Will I ever become complacent? I would say no, but that's the thing about it. You never realize it's happening.
“You should get some rest,” Jaku says.
He doesn't know how desperately I need it. To talk to the First Queen. “Later. I promised I would meet with the people today.”
“The same people you threw daggers at, Your Highness?” Julina's voice is steady.
I give her a sideways glance. “Yes, those people.”
“You threw daggers at them?” Jaku sounds anything but steady.
“In all fairness, they attacked her first,” Julina says.
“They what?” By the way he’s squeezing his eyes shut tight, he's barely holding back his anger.
I stride up the palace steps, not missing a beat. “They attacked, but we took care of them. There will likely be some repercussions for the palace. I wish we could send peace and food their way, but I'm afraid it would only lead to more attacks.”
“I'll put extra guards on the front gate. Are you certain you want to hold court this afternoon?”
“I need to. The people are angry at me enough. If I don't listen to them, how am I ever going to earn their trust back?” Like those people at the throne room that I previously didn’t really listen to, instead sending them home with food. It’s not that I don’t want to listen, it’s that I don’t know what to say. I can’t tell them what’s happening.
