A Throne for Sisters (Book One)

by Morgan Rice

  “There wasn’t enough time to do more than forge the basic blade,” Thomas said. “I’d intended the sharpening, the handle wrap and the detail work to be part of your training, but it’s strong, and it’s light.”

  He took it and handed it up to Kate. It was a long way from finished, but it was still more than she could have expected. It was long and light, feeling as though it would be perfectly balanced once she wound a handle onto it. It was probably the most beautiful thing she’d ever owned.

  “I worked on it with my father,” Will said. “We wanted it to welcome you back. Now… I guess it’s a going away present.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “Thank you. Thank you both so much.”

  Kate took it, settling it into place next to the wooden blade so that the two of them hung side by side from her belt. She felt as though she ought to say something more than just thank you. There was so much more she wanted to say, so much she wanted to do, but she could still hear the shouts in the distance, escalating as they found the body she’d left behind. Those made it clear that there wasn’t enough time for anything else.

  She had to settle for leaning down from the saddle, kissing Will quickly and sharply, not even sure if she was doing it right. It wasn’t as though she’d had any time to practice kissing. She straightened up before he could say anything, although that didn’t make much of a difference when her talent told her all of the things that he wanted to say anyway. Even hearing them like that hurt, making it feel as though turning would tear her heart out of her chest.

  Kate did it anyway. She put her heels to the horse and rode away, listening for the shouts that were building as more people started to search for her. She didn’t have to think about where she was going. There was only one place she could go, if she wanted to survive.

  It seemed that the woman at the fountain would be getting what she wanted after all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  Sophia walked the streets of Ashton, and this time it was worse than it had been before. The last time, she had been fresh out of the orphanage, just grateful to get away from it. She’d also had her sister beside her, and between the two of them, it had seemed that anything was possible.

  Now, though, it just hurt with the sense of loss that had been there ever since Sebastian had told her that she had to go. It didn’t matter that he didn’t want this any more than she did. What mattered was that he’d said it. He’d turned her out onto the street as surely as his brother would have after he’d gotten what he wanted. He’d said it was to protect Sophia, but wasn’t it really just as much to protect himself? Wasn’t he really just worried about what would happen when his mother or the other nobles found out who he’d fallen in love with?

  Sophia felt the heat of the tears falling as she walked, and didn’t even try to hold them back. No one looked her way as she kept going along the cobbled streets of one of Ashton’s wealthier quarters. Nobody stared at her broken-hearted wandering. Nobody cared enough to look.

  Kate! she sent for the millionth time. Where are you?!

  And yet no answer came.

  For the first time in her life, Sophia felt truly alone.

  Being on the street was worse this time because of everything she’d almost had. Sophia had felt as though she’d been on the verge of everything she could have wanted: a safe life with a man she loved and who seemed to love her back; a place among the wealthiest nobles of the realm; acceptance as something more than just an orphan, suitable only for indenture as whatever the ones who purchased her debt chose.

  Sophia kept going, not wanting to stop where she might be seen and recognized. It was embarrassing enough that this had happened at all, without thinking about what might happen if someone from the palace spotted her. She didn’t want to think about how Milady d’Angelica would gloat if she found out that Sophia had been forced to leave the palace, her wedding canceled.

  She really didn’t want to think about what might happen if she found out the truth. What would happen if the noble girl realized that she’d been tricked, beaten to the love of the prince by a girl who was just one of the indentured?

  What would Sebastian say had happened? That she’d been called back to her adopted country? That there had been some unnamed scandal? Would Sebastian say anything at all? Perhaps the dowager would let it be known that even mentioning Sophia of Meinhalt would incur her displeasure, and that would be that.

  Whatever happened, Sophia wouldn’t be able to go back, and that made it worse too. When she’d first left the orphanage, there had been a glimmer of hope left in her dream of finding a place among the nobles. Now, Sophia felt as though she had spent the last of her hope, with nothing left but the prospect of a worse life to come.

  At least she wouldn’t be sleeping with her back to a chimney tonight. She still had the money that she’d gotten by selling her stolen dress. She could buy… well, if she was careful, Sophia could buy a lot of things, but right then it hurt too much to think about all the things that might happen next. She just wanted a room for the night so that she could sleep and weep away the pain of being pushed out of Sebastian’s life.

  Could she have done anything differently? Sophia asked herself the question again and again as she looked around, searching for an inn that might still have a room left for her. There didn’t seem to be a good answer to that. She could have done a better job of disguising her mark, obviously, but the truth was that no matter how careful she’d been, sooner or later, someone would have seen it. It was there, indelibly labeling her as something lesser; something to be hated. She would have forgotten the makeup another time, or it would have washed off in the rain, and then…

  Well, maybe then it wouldn’t have been when Sebastian was the only one to see. Maybe a dozen nobles would have been there to grab her and demand her life for the insult of it, rather than there just being one man who cared about her.

  Sophia went on until she found an inn away from the palace. She wanted to be far enough from the noble district that she wouldn’t be recognized by any of the nobles there or their servants, but she didn’t want to go all the way down into the worst parts of the city. There were some places that she didn’t want to return to, even if it would cost her an extra coin or two to stay here.

  She walked in, trying to keep from showing too much of the hurt that cut through her heart, making her feel as though she should simply keep walking until she dropped from exhaustion. The inn was a long way from the luxury of the palace, but it seemed to be clean, and the people staying there seemed more like merchants passing through the city than rough dock hands or mercenaries.

  Sophia didn’t feel safe there, because where could she be safe when she’d even found herself in danger in the palace? Even so, it would be good enough for tonight. After that… well, Sophia couldn’t think past that. Maybe she would live her life as a thief, using her power to sense when people weren’t looking until she was finally caught. Maybe she would try to find her sister, although Sophia hated the idea of bringing her troubles into whatever life Kate had found for herself.

  She walked up to the bar of the inn, waiting for the attention of the innkeeper and taking out a couple of coins.

  “I’d like a room for the night,” she said. It was hard to say even that much without breaking down into sobs.

  The innkeeper shook his head firmly. “We don’t have any rooms left.”

  “But—”

  “We don’t have any rooms left,” the man repeated, and this time, Sophia caught a hint of the thoughts behind it.

  Coming in off the street with no baggage and sounding as though she’s from the slums. Does she think I don’t know a whore when I see one? If I have to throw her out face first, though, it won’t look good.

  The thoughts of everyone else there told her that they were thinking more or less the same thing. To them there was no way she could be anything other than some rich man’s castoff.

  Maybe that was even what she was, in a w
ay.

  “I’ll have to find somewhere else then,” Sophia said, trying to turn around with what she hoped was some shred of dignity. She made it to the door before the tears came back, and she stepped back out into the street, hoping that the growing darkness would hide from the world just how upset she was.

  Every step hurt now, a sense of pointlessness and worthlessness cutting through everything Sophia did. She hadn’t been able to find a place in the palace. She hadn’t had the sense to go with her sister. She couldn’t even find an inn that would take her. She didn’t know what she was going to do next.

  Sophia started to walk down toward the river, into the poorer parts of the city. She wasn’t sure then why she was doing it, whether it was to find a cheaper inn where they might not care what she seemed to be, to simply keep walking, or to throw herself into the river’s cold embrace. Right then, all three seemed equally likely, and Sophia wasn’t sure that she cared about the difference.

  She kept going, down into the narrower streets where the houses crowded together and there wasn’t the same sense of the buildings being kept in good repair. She walked past figures in alleys without looking at them, and ignored a bawdy offer shouted at her from a doorway.

  She was so hurt right then that she was numb to it all, the city turning into background noise to the crushing weight around her heart. Sophia took step after shuffling step, not caring about the sounds of Ashton as its nighttime denizens woke and came onto the streets.

  Perhaps that numbness was why she didn’t hear the footsteps following behind her at first. It was certainly why she didn’t stretch out her talent to pick up the thoughts of those around her. She had enough problems with her own thoughts right then, without adding more men wondering if they could buy her for the evening, or thugs wondering whether they should fight someone.

  It was only as she kept going that the truth came to her: someone was following her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  Kate rode away from the only happiness she’d ever been able to find, forcing herself not to cry. She rode faster than she had all day, ignoring the part where it was getting dark now and letting her horse simply run.

  She had to run, because she was an outlaw now. She’d killed someone. She’d stolen this horse. Anyone hunting her would be trying to cut her throat or drag her to a gallows now, not bring her back to the House of the Unclaimed.

  There had been the shouts of pursuit somewhere behind Kate when she first left. Those had faded into silence now, and Kate just had to hope that it wasn’t because they were taking their anger out on Will and his family. By leaving, she hoped that she’d made it look as though she was betraying them along with everyone else, and that trouble would follow her, not them.

  She rode until it was too dark to keep going, and the road was just a difference in the reflection of the moonlight. Even her horse was shying away from continuing, pulling toward the side of the road as it slowed. Kate took the hint, pulling fifty paces from the road before tying her horse to the branches of a low shrub and pulling the saddle from its back.

  She slept on the rough ground, cold because she couldn’t risk a fire, with the sword Thomas had given her set beside her on the ground in case someone came. She didn’t know what she would do with it if they did. Would she kill them, the way that she’d killed the boy who’d tried to take her back? Would she be able to drive them off if she didn’t?

  Kate slept fitfully, unable to keep her eyes closed for long. Fears drifted together with nightmares, until she could barely tell which was which. Was she running from shadows in a house on fire, or were there actually people out there coming for her? Kate snapped awake a dozen times, sitting up with her breath coming fast, only to realize that the attackers coming at her were fragments of dreams.

  It wasn’t until the sun came up that she saw her horse had pulled free of the bush where she’d tied it. It was gone, tracks leading away into the distance. Kate walked in a wide circle, trying to find it, but it was gone. Maybe it had run off to live wild. Maybe it had gone back to the owner she had stolen it from.

  Either way, it meant that she had to walk. Kate took the saddle bags, her sword, and the few other possessions that she had and then set off on foot. She didn’t know if hunters would be coming after her now, but she went a different way from the hoof prints at first, keeping to stony ground where she wouldn’t leave footprints, simply to make sure that anyone trying to track her would go in the wrong direction. Only once she was well clear of the spot where she’d camped did Kate set off back in the direction of the forest.

  She kept off the road while she walked, moving instead between the edges of fields and the small tracks that meandered alongside the real roads. It meant that there was less chance of her being seen by someone who might know what she’d done, but it also meant that the sun was high before Kate saw the trees growing closer. She was tired by then, and hungry; she’d only slaked her thirst by drinking rainwater collected in the hollow of a low stone.

  Kate was glad that things were going better for her sister than for her. Maybe they were two sides of a scale, so that as things went downhill for Kate, Sophia’s life got better. Briefly, Kate thought of what might happen if she headed for the palace, asking Sophia for help. If she was that close to a prince, maybe she could secure some kind of pardon for Kate for all she’d done.

  Kate laughed at that thought, continuing to head into the trees. If she showed up at the palace, they would turn her away at best, hang her at worst. There was only one direction she could go in now, and she was already going that way.

  Kate headed into the trees, looking for the start of the stone staircase that led up to the fountain. Kate had considered every other possibility, but the truth was that there weren’t any real options. She’d destroyed all of that the moment her eating knife had slid under Zachariah’s ribs. Maybe she’d been heading for this from the moment she and Sophia had fled from the orphanage, caught by fate as surely as she would have been by any indenture.

  Kate didn’t want to believe that, but she was still walking toward the spot where the fountain waited for her, and Siobhan with it.

  At least, she assumed that she was. Here in the forest, it was hard to tell which way she was going. The trees crowded in around her, pushing Kate back and forcing her further off the path with every step. This wasn’t the way she’d come the first time she was here, and now the mud stuck to her boots, bogging her down while the branches scratched at her almost as if they were guarding the place.

  Kate felt a flicker of amusement from up ahead. She straightened and listened. There came no sound, but that feeling had been unmistakable. The witch. She was here. Watching her. Taking pleasure in her suffering.

  She was getting close.

  Rain started to fall, hammering down through the trees and plastering Kate’s clothes to her skin.

  “I know what you’re doing,” Kate called out. “Let me through, damn you!”

  There came no answer.

  Yet even so, her way seemed to ease.

  Thorns still pricked at Kate, but they didn’t tangle and stop her. Mud still sucked at her feet, but it didn’t threaten to pull her boots away. The trees didn’t block the way now, but seemed to funnel her instead.

  Finally, she found a small path that looked familiar. She’d been here yesterday; she was sure of it. She could see the crumbling stone of the first steps.

  She looked up and braced herself.

  And then, one step at a time, she started to climb.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  Sophia glanced back over her shoulder, trying to catch sight of the people following her. Still, she saw nothing.

  Inside, her fear built, forcing her onward. She turned down a side street and the footsteps still kept in time with hers, and she paid them more attention. They followed the rhythm of her own steps, speeding up as she did, falling more softly as she looked around for threats. There were too many thoughts around in the city to be certain about
who was following her or why, but she felt certain that there were at least three sets of thoughts close behind her.

  She walked faster, and the footsteps sped up with her.

  She broke into a run. She chose directions at random, heading through the gathering dark without caring about where she was going. She pulled into a courtyard, ducking through a half-open door and trying to calm her breathing enough that it wouldn’t give her away. Carefully, so slowly that it was barely perceptible, Sophia closed the door the rest of the way. She wanted to leave no trace of her presence.

  She stood there in the shadows, hoping that whoever was following would move on by, leaving her alone the moment she became too much trouble. That was the way predators worked in the city. They only hunted for what was easy, and left anything more difficult well alone. If she could stay quiet and out of sight, then they would move past her and look for another target somewhere else.

  Then she caught a flicker of their thoughts and knew that wouldn’t work. She backed away from the entrance, looking around for a weapon, but there wasn’t anything, and in any case, Sophia wasn’t her sister. She didn’t have the ability to fight off attackers. She could talk to them, persuade them, run from them, but not fight them.

  Sophia found herself looking for a way out, saw a stack of boxes on the far side of the courtyard, and started to climb. They didn’t reach all the way to the sloping tiles of the roof, but they got close enough. She’d clambered over the roofs of the city before; she could do it again. She felt the roughness of the wooden boxes under her hands as she forced herself up from box to box, trying to work out a route to the tiled roof above. When she heard the door to the courtyard open, Sophia tried to move faster.

  She felt the boxes shift beneath her, and then, in an instant, Sophia was falling.

  She felt the impact of the cobbles below slam through her as she struck the floor, and Sophia couldn’t even scream with the pain as the force of it knocked all the breath out of her. There were hands on her then, and Sophia thrashed around, trying to get free. It didn’t make any difference.