Rescuing the Prince

by Meghann McVey

  That news put me in a bad mood the entire day.

  I was so not in the mood for questioning when Queen Arencaster came to the room that night. However, as I learned, the purpose of her visit was quite different.

  “I have at last received a reply from the one who shall help you in your quest,” Queen Arencaster said. “Reldion le Valen, the Wagoner who helped you bypass Latule’s troops, has agreed to be your guide and protector.”

  “When do we leave?” I said, careful to keep my voice low despite my excitement.

  “Reldion is still on the other side of the forest. He left shortly after you arrived. He will come when he is able.”

  “What is he doing?”

  “Handling affairs for one of his many illicit businesses, I would guess.” Despite the queen’s hushed tone, some wryness still made it into her voice. “Reldion is a crude man. I am sorry I cannot offer you more refined company. Still, if any can keep you safe, he can.”

  “I’ve gone through a lot to find Gerry,” I said. “I can get through this too.”

  Queen Arencaster nodded as if to say very good. “Understand that you will be leaving in utmost secrecy. Even I will be kept in the dark. We will explain your disappearance by saying that Princess Fiona has run away again.”

  I swallowed, remembering my confrontation with the real Fiona. Did I have a duty to tell the queen?

  Before I could decide, the moment had passed. Queen Arencaster had already started for the door, signaling the end of our audience.

  With the queen gone, my thoughts turned immediately to how I might prepare for the journey with…Reldion. I couldn’t let the man make me nervous, I coached myself. Not when he might know the way to Gerry.

  In the end, it proved difficult to make any plans or pack when I had no idea when we’d leave or what we were getting into. To take my mind off my upcoming journey into the unknown, I wrote to Callie and Ben. I’d put it off for lots of reasons, partly because my mind was filled with my own problems and I didn’t want to worry my friends, and also because letter writing felt one-sided. Not that I needed a text or Facebook response within five minutes, but it took weeks to correspond by letter in good times. The recent Latule blockade was sure to slow things down further. It had come about because King Pharris had sent supplies and weapons from the capital in lumbering, obvious wagons. Getting anything in or out was chancy at best and took ages. All letters had to be carried by hand because the soldiers shot any creature that flew.

  Despite the shortcomings of letter writing, I had to talk to people who knew me (somewhat), especially after Faxon/Fiona’s and my drama and Tolliver being busy.

  In my letters, I apologized for disappearing and then not writing sooner due to the non-stop excitement (to borrow a Portalis Park ride description) of the war. I briefly outlined events from Queen Arencaster’s unexpected announcement, the ambush in the woods, breaking through the enemy’s line, my near-death experience, emphasizing each time that I was okay. For Callie, I inquired about every aspect of tower life that I remembered and expressed my hope that her classes were going well and that maybe, by some miracle, Rosalyn and Lily were being decent to her. To Ben, I bemoaned that we hadn’t been able to discuss mirror magic and other worlds and expressed my hope that I could return to the tower if the war would only end.

  With the letters completed over several afternoons (quill pens and inkwells still challenged me), I still had yet to see Tolliver.

  I couldn’t imagine not talking to him before I left with Reldion, which could be any day, and so I turned my energies to getting a message to him so we could meet. This turned out to be a project in itself. At the beginning, I had a few false starts because I didn’t know what company Tolliver was in. When my note finally did reach him, he still wasn’t able to come to me. His reply began with a salutation from Peiser, the soldier writing and reading Tolliver’s letters for him. The injured soldier Tolliver was standing in for had been reassigned to light duties, and Tolliver would be taking his place permanently. Latule and Arencaster were in a prolonged battle, and his sword was needed for the foreseeable future.

  That news made me seethe in frustration. In the end, it was Fiona, or rather, her actions, that gave me the idea. It was risky, bordering on foolish. But then, so was potentially confronting the dragon rider. The fact that I had picked both risks didn’t make me feel less afraid, but there was something empowering about choosing.

  I began by sending Tolliver another note that stated:

  If you can’t come to me, I will go to you. Please reply and tell me where we can meet. If you do not, you will force me to search for you myself, and know this: I will not give up until I find you.

  As before, I signed all my note simply as L, being careful to leave clues so Tolliver would know who I was without alerting any who might overhear.

  Tolliver’s reply, also penned by Peiser, stated, I do not support your venturing into danger, but if you cannot be swayed from this course, come to the village square four nights from now, when the bells toll twelves, and I will lead us somewhere private.

  That was just what I wanted.

  Of course, writing letters and making plans was one thing. Actually doing them was quite another.

  On my next nightly discussions with the queen, she’d drifted off in mid-conversation to stare at the window as though seeing it for the first time. “This won’t do,” Queen Arencaster said briskly, rising to her feet and examining the area immediately outside. “This won’t do at all.” She shook her head slowly and turned to me. “Please forgive me this strategic blunder.”

  “Yes, Majesty.” I didn’t mention that Queen Arencaster probably needed more forgiveness from herself.

  “I will rectify it at once.”

  When we finished our rehash of horrors (which was starting to feel increasingly pointless - it’d been so long since it happened), Queen Arencaster assigned the guard outside my room to stand inside, where he could watch the door and the window.

  This was going to make it harder to meet with Tolliver. I had three days to figure out how I was going to sneak out.

  Yet as it turned out, my worries were unnecessary.

  The Latule-Arencaster war, as people were coming to call it, had dragged on for nearly three months, and the soldiers were tired. I’d say three out of four used their time guarding me to catch up on sleep.

  The younger ones looked sheepish when they woke up; officially, they were supposed to be alert at all times in my company. I found them more pitiful than blameworthy (as opposed to the older soldiers who scowled at me if I made eye contact or otherwise let on that I knew what they’d been doing.) So the older soldiers and I played our game, while the younger ones confided their situation to me: battles and watches that typically ate into hours scheduled for sleeping, days of “rest” that had to be devoted to additional duties. Despite the help of capital-trained soldiers, Arencaster had enough casualties to force every man except the most inexperienced to assume several roles. There had to be a breaking point before too much longer.

  Such talk worried me. When and if I returned from rescuing Gerry, there might not be an Autumnstead left.

  On the appointed night, while my guardian slept, I slipped away down the corridors. The guards in the halls had the threat of their captain passing to keep them awake, but I had a plan to avoid them entirely. Moving with painstaking caution, I crept back to Fiona’s unoccupied, unguarded room.

  Inside, I lit the candle on the bedside table. Servants had stripped the bed of its coverings, but the sight of the lumpy mattress and thick four poster frame sent a shudder through me. The calmer I stayed, the faster I could get out of here, I reminded myself through my shallow breathing.

  As I’d hoped, no one had blocked the secret passageway in Fiona’s room. In the flickering candlelight, I peered down the narrow corridor of rough stone. I had never asked where it led. I hoped would take me to the ground floor, but there was no way to know, not without making the trek mys
elf. Before entering, I placed the empty chamber pot in the corner between the wall and the part that swung open. If the other end of the passage were barricaded, I didn’t want to get trapped inside. Then, taking a deep breath, I crossed the threshold.

  The passage led into the wall itself. In the still, stale air, my breathing sounded loud in my ears. No matter how quiet I tried to make my footsteps, they scraped and thudded. Several times, I froze, thinking I’d heard something in the passage with me, furiously debating in my head whether I should turn back.

  But…Tolliver… This might be my last chance to see him. Who knew what might happen to him in battle or me on my quest?

  The passage twisted and wound, always leading down. After a brief, flat stretch, it dead-ended. With walls on three sides of me, the only way open was back the way I’d come.

  No! It just couldn’t end here!

  I leaned against the stone wall between me and outside, unable to accept defeat and go back. I went through several plans, all of them complicated and risky: blasting through the wall with elements (that would be interesting to explain to the queen); climbing out my bedroom window… I had settled on summoning the ten guards that Queen Arencaster required for me to move about the castle, when I noticed the shadow and light from my candle flickering from wall to wall.

  For the rest of my trek, the light had been so still, just like the air in this stuffy corridor. There must be an opening somewhere! I ran my hands over the stone, finding a crack on the far left side that I could just inch my fingers through. I gave the door a push, but to no avail. I began pressing everywhere I could reach, hoping to find a hidden button or panel.

  I had nearly given up when I heard stone scrape against stone. Fresh air, sweet and cold on my face, trickled in through the opening.

  Luckily the area outside the passage was not guarded. I pushed the door to get it as closed as possible so no one passing by would notice.

  The nearly-full moon reigned over Castle Autumnstead’s grounds. Everything, from the smallest leaf to tallest roof had fallen under its blue and silver spell. For a moment, I just stood, drinking it all in and trying to get my bearings.

  By lucky chance, I spotted Zellia, the star Faxon had shown me that always pointed north. Autumnstead Village was south of the castle. Right now, Zellia was at my left shoulder. I had to turn so she was behind me. If I kept to this direction, more or less, I could get to town.

  The wind’s icy fingers dancing across my nose and ears reminded me to pull up the hood of Fiona’s cloak, both for warmth and to disguise my face.

  It felt like it took forever to navigate the grounds of Castle Autumnstead. I often veered from my course because I heard footsteps or voices. I spent many panting minutes hidden under bushes or pressed against walls while I waited for the guards’ shadows to pass. Although these were Arencaster men, any of them could have been associated with Latule or the man who inexplicably wanted my life.

  Though I knew it was safest to remain unseen, I cursed every delay. Tolliver had said to meet him when the bells tolled midnight. I had left the moment my guard had nodded off, around eleven. The problem was, I had no idea how long I had taken in the passage. I couldn’t hear the bells all the way out here. What if I were too late, and Tolliver gave up on me?

  That won’t happen! I tried to encourage myself.

  Once the castle grounds gave way to the dirt road that connected the castle and village, enough people were coming and going that I could relax a bit. I still kept my head down, but was able to walk rather than skulk.

  Despite the hour, the town square bustled with activity. Most people here wore the garb of Autumnstead soldiers: dark gray and green with steel plate armor. I waited, enjoying the sight of the snowy rooftops and streets and scanning the crowd every few minutes.

  No Tolliver.

  A hooded figure drew near me, a man, by his broad shoulders and confident stride. As I sensed him looking at me, a trickle of fear ran through my veins. What if someone else had read Tolliver’s letters and had come to take advantage of the situation?

  I was on the verge of running away when the man partly drew back his hood.

  I recognized Tolliver at once, even in the torchlight: his smooth face, his inky dark eyes. Several strands of his chestnut-hued hair escaped and did a quick dance with the wind.

  I came closer, turning my back on the crowd and my face to the building before revealing myself.

  “Lady.” I could make out no emotion in Tolliver’s voice. Had it been a mistake to meet him? But…would he have agreed to meet if, like Fiona, Tolliver thought I was wrong?

  “Come with me before anyone sees.” Again, his voice just loud enough to be heard, any expressions hidden beneath his hood.

  While waiting for this night, I’d daydreamed about our meeting while reading Tolliver’s brief replies until I memorized them. Now I felt foolish for envisioning us walking hand in hand, saying passionate things at our parting.

  In the knife-sharp night wind, Tolliver led, and I followed, little more than a shadow. We passed past established buildings and newer ones that were little more than lean-to’s. Beyond these, the cobblestone streets gave way to footpaths, and the buildings to trees. I thought Tolliver had found a copse or clearing that Latule hadn’t yet camped in, until I saw a large building almost hidden amongst the dark and pine needles. The night had already assumed that stillness that comes with the falling snow. But here a deeper silence I couldn’t explain held sway.

  “This is the only private place left in Autumnstead, or I would not have brought you here,” Tolliver said.

  Now that I looked more carefully, I could make out pillars and cracked foundation stones lightly dusted in snow. That single standing building had not been built alone, I guessed, though now it was a last sentinel in the shadows. Somehow I knew that it was natural and unthreatening, despite Tolliver’s wary air. “What was it?”

  “A temple,” Tolliver said. “Many say it was here long before Autumnstead existed as a realm. Some believe it dates as far back as the First People. It is a mysterious place most people avoid.” As I began to climb the stairs, Tolliver took my wrist. “No one comes to these grounds without good reason, and only the foolish venture inside.”

  My curiosity was wide awake now. I would’ve liked to hear all about what had happened to them. But there were other, more urgent things to talk about, and time was short.

  Tolliver, perceiving what was on my mind, said, “What did My Lady summon me out here to say?”

  “There are two things, actually. Neither of them are easy.” I always beat around the bush like this when I got nervous. I just had to spit it out. “It’s about Princess Fiona.”

  “Faxon told me what happened.”

  Oh. Well, that would save some time. But…Faxon? “Did you know this whole time?” I asked, still unable to voice my real questions. Whose side was he on? Would my departure mean the end of us, too?

  “I confess it is so.” Tolliver hung his head. “I have given the matter much thought, Lady. Each new day, I longed to confide in you. And no matter which path I determined to take, each commanded a steep price.” Tolliver pushed back his hood and gazed at me, a question in his eyes. The worry I’d harbored left me. Tolliver was conflicted, perhaps, but he didn’t seem angry.

  “Long before Fiona took on the name Faxon, she was a good friend to me,” Tolliver said. “She would spend hours with the castle guards training, practicing, and sparring. In this way, she became well-known and liked among many of us. She had a natural knack for the sword -”

  Of course, I thought, mentally rolling my eyes.

  “I on the other hand…” Tolliver turned so it seemed like he was speaking to the trees. “Although I aspired to fight to protect my family and kingdom, swordsmanship did not come easily to me. Princess Fiona took me under her wing. After the queen put an end to her afternoons in the practice yard, Fiona and I continued to meet when we could. All that I know of the sword, I owe to her. />
  “Although the young soldiers and I accepted her desire to fight, our elders, unsurprisingly, did not. As I am certain she has told you.

  “Knowing your desire to seek your intended, I spoke to Fiona often about how we might help you. Couldn’t she return to Autumnstead for a time while you looked for him? She agreed, considering your aid to the kingdom a debt of honor. We had the beginnings of a plan and the fullest intentions. But Latule declared war before we could put it into action. Autumnstead needed every fighter it had, including Faxon.

  “Had Fiona revealed herself after the war started, you would have been free to look for Gerry, but there would be no soldiers to spare to go with you, and I would not have you venture into unknown danger.

  “I wanted the best for everyone, and your protection most of all. I am sorry if it caused you distress. I am but a simple man.”

  “I understand, Tolliver. I don’t hold you at fault. You did the best you could with the decisions Fiona made…” I trailed off and looked again at the nearby temple, so different from the other Autumnstead buildings with their wood and thatch. In many places, the trees pressed right up against the stone walls as if trying to reclaim the temple or bury it in obscurity. Wind mourned through the pines, and I thought with regret at how my last conversation with Fiona had ended. Yes, she had been selfish. Yes, she had nearly cost Gerry his life. But she had saved mine at least twice. Her displacement, had guaranteed me the patronage of a queen in this Other World where I knew no one. In the end, it all evened out. And I had to admire her guts for acting on what she believed in.

  “Tolliver,” I ventured slowly, as cautiously as though I spoke to Fiona herself. “Do you think Fiona meant it when she said our friendship was over?”

  “Fiona is very proud. By seeing through her, you humbled her. It may take some time, but I think she will forgive you.”

  “Forgive me?” I blustered. “When she’s in the wrong?”

  “Remember, though she resists the duties of her title, she was still raised as a princess. With the exception of the king and queen, others do wrong, not her. Still, I have faith that she will speak to you again, maybe even apologize. She thinks of you as a little sister. She’s very proud of how far you’ve come.”