Another exultant cheer.
The speaker raises his palms to quiet them again. “As is customary, the lord and lady shall be served first, then the elders, then the soldiers. Finally, mothers and children may partake. Be sure to share your dish with your family. Please be aware that guards standing by will punish those who take more than will satisfy. This is to be a celebration, of course. Now eat, drink, and be merry!”
At that moment, a buoyant tune rises from the band of bards on the steps of the castle. Servants stream from the castle bearing dishes of food. Trays of roasted fish and chicken exit first, followed by honeyed hams surrounded with eggs. Evelyn can’t help but stare, mouth watering. Dishes of vegetables and fruit come next. Plates heaped with cabbages, carrots, and cucumbers, bowls of apple and cherries. Then, white and yellow cheeses. Some are studded with nuts, some wrapped in herbs. At last, the breads arrive, with all kinds of spiced jellies, sugared nuts, and cakes. These dishes are piled onto the tables in front of the castle, along with hundreds of bottles of wine, ale, and water. Stacks of large wooden plates dot any open spaces between the dishes of food. Evelyn’s stomach turns over at the tantalizing aroma.
Lord Krassis takes a seat at the head of one of the tables with Ilvara. Two guards flank them. Krassis’ face glows with pride as he loads his plate with food to share with Ilvara. He raises a bronze goblet.
“To this bountiful food, to Esterden’s victory, and to my lovely new wife,” he shouts triumphantly.
The cheer that follows hurts Evelyn’s ears.
He takes a long drink from the goblet. “Let the feast begin!”
Another resounding cheer. The gathering crowd moves for the tables. The amount of food is dizzying. The sight suddenly sickens her. How many in Lockmire will be hungry tonight?
“This is the perfect time,” Francine says quietly. “Let’s get to the dungeons. Evelyn. Evelyn?”
She’s there. In the crowd. Her golden hair is braided down her back in a more intricate way than Evelyn’s, intwined with a scarlet ribbon that glimmers in the fading daylight. She is at the opposite end of the table from Lord Krassis and Ilvara, filling a small dish with cherries and cheese.
“That’s her,” Evelyn says. “That’s her!”
“Shh.” Francine turns. “Yes, it is her. Now, Caius and Asher. Come on, Evelyn.”
Goldie keeps glancing up at Ilvara with an angry gleam in her eyes. Evelyn cannot quite read it. But then again, she hasn’t seen the woman in over twelve years. And she has almost no memory of her. How could Evelyn guess her expressions? Her mood? Anything?
Evelyn takes a step, not toward the dungeons with Francine, but toward the woman at the end of the table. She feels a welling deep inside that she can’t control.
“Evelyn, no. We’re here for Caius and Asher. This is our chance. We cannot miss it.”
“Mother,” Evelyn says. “That’s my mother.”
“No. No!” Francine grabs Evelyn’s chin in one hand, dragging her to face Francine. “Focus. Caius and Asher, remember? Goldie will still be here when we’re out with them.”
“’Goldie?’ Why do they call her that?”
Francine sighs. “Her name is Marigold. Or maybe because of her hair? I don’t know.’”
“Hm.” Evelyn looks back at her, but Francine grabs her chin again.
“Please. Let’s get Asher and Caius out first.”
“Ilvara,” Evelyn says. “She’s Lady now. We could tell her to convince her new husband to release them. Less threat that way.”
“But she’ll instantly recognize you, won’t she? You were the only woman in her army.”
“Does that matter?”
“Yes, because if she recognizes you, her husband is going to know she knows you. He will think something is happening beneath the surface. He’ll get suspicious. She could be in danger if that happens.”
Evelyn bites her lip. “There must be something…”
“Yes. We break them out.”
“Then what? Leave Ilvara and my mother here?”
“Goldie works for the Esterden army. She mediates between the bandits and Esterden generals. She has for years. She belongs here.”
A flash of lightning brightens the sky for an instant. A few moments later, thunder ripples across the sky. Instead of running inside, the party-goers raise up a boisterous cheer.
Someone shouts, “The sky celebrates with us!”
Evelyn looks up. She tries to remember the last thunderstorm. It was the day before she and Caius kissed on Blackmist’s shore. They’d been hunting when Caius announced a storm was coming. They’d just gotten into Crescent Moon Cave when the sky broke and the rain fell. He’d always been right about those things. Was that only two weeks ago? Was it three?
It was all so simple then, before death. Hunting. Learning. Living day to day. Now, everything has changed. Her mother is alive, and she belongs to Lockmire’s enemy city. Evelyn’s enemy city.
“Let’s go,” Evelyn finally says.
Chapter 26
Her
Caius cannot sleep with this noise.
The bards started up a little while ago, amongst the cheering and celebrations. And now, the storm has hit. Thunder keeps rumbling outside. He glances up at Timothy, the door guard, who appears about as happy as Caius about the celebrations. Or perhaps he feels excluded.
Caius turns over on the straw mat, trying to shut out the noise. Asher has been silent for hours. Perhaps he’s already fallen asleep, though it can’t be far past sundown. Days and nights are so warped away from the sun.
Something crawls onto his leg. He kicks it off, accidentally slamming his toe against the wall. He curses and sits up. A cockroach scuttles away through the bars. If only he were as small as that. Then he could escape himself.
He hears the door open. At the same time, a flash of light far brighter than distant lightning blinds him. Caius covers his face, diving back into the wall, sure some drunk mage has stumbled inside. Caius lowers his arm. The door guard lies in a pile of black armour. The stench of burning flesh fills the room.
He looks up. A woman rushes toward him, a hooded figure next to her. She sets her gloved hands on the lock.
“Caius.”
The confusion of the last few moments converges on this single word. His name spoken in a familiar voice, in a familiar way he nearly forgot. His heart leaves his body as he glances up at her. She pulls the hood off, revealing her face. Her beautiful face that hasn’t changed at all.
“You are alive,” is the first thing he says.
She kneels in front of the bars. “Don’t worry. Francine will get you out.”
“What are you doing? You’re going to get yourselves killed!” Asher’s frantic voice echoes in the room. In the centre of Caius’ numb brain.
“Evelyn,” Caius says.
Francine, the girl at the bars, yanks the red-hot lock until it bends away from the door. The gate swings open. Caius doesn’t have the chance to move before her arms wrap around his neck. Her cheek is warm against his. Her body breathes in his tight embrace. Evelyn is not dead. She’s alive. She’s alive.
“Gods,” Caius gets out, tightening his arms around her. “I missed you.” He wants her closer, so every hollow ache in his body is filled with her only. His voice shakes. “I missed you so much.”
She releases him all too soon. “We have to go. They’re celebrating now. Have they hurt you?”
“No, I’m all right.” Caius drinks in her face. The scars. The blink of her eyes. Were they that blue before?
“Come on,” Francine says, pulling the melted lock from Asher’s cell door. Then she chuckles. “So much for us being watched very closely.”
“They’re going to notice this,” Asher says, emerging from the cell. “If we even make it out, we’ll be hunted down like animals. We can’t possibly get back to Tarreth.”
“We can make it halfway,” says Evelyn. She glances at Caius with a wry smile, and his heart stops again. “I know
of a shelter in the mountains.”
“Just follow me.” Francine moves to the door. “I know a path away from the celebration. They won’t even notice us.”
“But Ilvara,” Evelyn says, stopping her. “We can’t leave her here.”
“She’s safe,” Francine tells her. “Krassis won’t harm her.”
“You said before that she might be in danger if we talk to her. What more if he finds out his prisoners have escaped? I can’t just leave her.”
“We can’t very well take her with us!”
“Evelyn,” interrupts Asher, “have you seen anyone in the city who might…look like you?”
“I know my mother is here,” Evelyn says.
Caius frowns, but Asher goes on, “It seems Ilvara knows her too. She apparently made a fool of your mother in front of everyone. They know about you. Perhaps it would be good for you to now make an appearance. Your mother thinks you’re dead. If you must reveal yourself, arrive to once again be Ilvara’s servant in her new household.”
“Far too dangerous,” says Caius.
“You know I cannot leave without her,” Evelyn says to him.
“What about us?” Caius asks. “The three of us escape to Tarreth and leave you?” The very thought churns Caius’ gut. He never wants to be away from her again, not even for a second.
“What if we work for them?” Asher suggests quietly. “They spoke of enslaving us for their army.”
“Tarreth plans to join Lockmire’s side,” Francine adds in a shrill tone. “You’d be fighting against your own people.”
“Well, Evelyn won’t leave without Ilvara,” Asher says, “and you said yourself that we can’t take her with us. I would wager Krassis won’t let her out of his sight.”
Evelyn fiddles with her dagger. “I like Asher’s plan. I’ll stay as Ilvara’s servant. You three go back to Tarreth.”
“No,” Caius says.
“I’ll be her servant until Tarreth marches,” Evelyn reasons. “I’ll defend her personally. That way, I will stay true to my cause.”
Caius shakes his head. “You are still so stubborn,” he mutters. And he wouldn’t have her any other way.
“Fight on Tarreth’s side,” she says. “Kill the bandits. Take back Lockmire.”
“There’s still the issue of Lockmire belonging to Ilvara,” Asher comments. “Caius found Hadrian’s will, and he’s left it to her. But with her married to Krassis now, Lockmire is legally his. I mean, I suppose that’s true because of the invasion as well, but still… Anyhow, unless he writes Ilvara into his will, that she may inherit it upon his death, it will go to whatever heir he’s deemed worthy.”
“So I have to make him write her in,” Evelyn says, “then kill him.”
Caius laughs as he scratches his head. “Gods, woman. You’ve just returned to me. Can you wait before you leap back into the jaws of death?”
“If I could, I would,” Evelyn says. “What do we think of that?”
Francine pipes up. “I think it’s ridiculous. The four of us should just escape. Ilvara will be fine.”
Evelyn shoots her a look.
Caius says, “I think I should stay here with Evelyn. I’ll petition to guard Ilvara as well. That way, I won’t be in the thick of the fray, fighting Tarreth. I’ll take Grogar’s place, rest his soul.”
Asher nods. “And I’ll escape with Francine back to Tarreth. I’ll help with the troops if I can.”
“Alesia?” Caius asks.
“She’s with Priscilla,” replies Asher. “Francine healed her.”
Caius sighs. “Good.” He glances at the stranger. “Thank you.”
Francine only nods. “If that’s the plan, then we’d better move, brother. We have a long run ahead of us. I hope our horse is still outside the gates.”
“A horse! Good thinking.” Asher eyes Evelyn. “Be safe, you two. May the gods watch over you.”
Evelyn bows her head. “Herus guide your journey.”
Caius can read the longing in Asher’s eyes as he watches her. He nods once at Caius, who returns the gesture. She’s yours. Take care of her.
And Caius will, until death claims him.
Asher and Francine wave goodbye as they leave the dungeon.
“So,” Evelyn says, sighing, “I suppose I should go find Ilvara.”
Caius takes her hands. “Why don’t you stay here with me? They can find us both in here.”
“But it might be easier to convince Lord Krassis to hire me while he’s slightly intoxicated. Added to that, there’s a dead guard, two broken locks, and an escaped prisoner. If you lie here and pretend to be unconscious, they may not suspect you had anything to do with it.”
“Someone just came in to free Asher, and although they also opened my door, I slept through it,” Caius says with a chuckle.
Evelyn shakes her head. “It’s going to be difficult to convince them either way. What should we do?”
Caius brushes his knuckles against her cheek, studying her. “I don’t know,” he says absently.
Evelyn smiles. Her smile could cure the worst disease. “Come now. We must think of something.”
“I am thinking of something.”
“What?”
“I’m thinking of kissing you.”
She shuts her eyes, a growing blush on her cheeks. “But we have to… come up with a… something.”
Caius lowers his face to hers. “With a something?”
Evelyn touches his face. “A something.”
His mouth presses against hers softly. His arms pull her in. Nothing seems to matter. The only thing filling his mind is her. And how unbearably he missed her. They make it onto the floor. It’s easier to kiss her when they are seated. Her tiny stature makes things difficult. This is much more comfortable.
A door opens. Footsteps clobber. Voices shout. Caius and Evelyn scramble to their feet as the room fills with torchlight and soldiers.
“What happened here?” one of them demands to know.
“Looks like a jailbreak attempt,” another says, glancing over the melted locks.
“One of them did escape,” replies the first soldier. “This cage is empty.”
“And who are you? You look like Goldie.”
“I’m her daughter,” Evelyn says. “I came to find her, and to… work for Countess Ilvara.”
“Lady Ilvara,” the guard corrects. “And we’ll see about that. You two, get him into a new cage and watch him constantly. I’ll take this one to Lord Krassis.”
The guard seizes Evelyn’s arm, dragging her out of the cell. Caius steps forward to fight him, but Evelyn stops him.
“Let me go,” Evelyn says quietly. “Just stay alive, all right?”
“Don’t hurt her,” Caius growls at the guards.
The other guards haul him from his cell into one on the other side of the circle. Evelyn follows her guards passively. She takes one last glance at Caius being shut away in his cell. He resists the urge to fight back and mouths I love you.
Before she can reply, they shut the door.
✽ ✽ ✽
The festivities are still continuing in the square despite the rain. Tall torches have been lit under shelters to illuminate the area. Dancers sway by, ankles and wrists tinkling, soaked to the bone, filling out the lively music from the bards with the clang of their bells. Men laugh more as they drink. Children weave through the groups, laughing, playing, splashing in puddles.
Lord Krassis and Ilvara are not at the table. The guards take Evelyn past the celebration to the castle gates. Inside, as Evelyn gazes around the main hall, one guard holding her addresses a door guard.
“Have the Lord and Lady retired for the night?”
“Yes, and Lord Krassis requested they not be disturbed,” replies the door guard.
A shiver of disgust runs through Evelyn. If Krassis harms Ilvara, his death will be merciless. The guards holding her turn to one another, obviously unsure of what to do next.
“You could always place me
back with Caius,” Evelyn suggests.
They seem reluctant to do this, since they aren’t moving or responding. Finally, one guard jerks her back in the direction of the door. A golden braid flashes by the door ahead. Evelyn yanks out of the men’s grip and makes for it. The guards shout for her to stop.
Evelyn enters a dining hall of sorts. There, standing near a display of swords, is her mother.
She looks different up close. Familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Evelyn studies her face, trying to place it in her mind. Trying to answer the thousands of questions with the sight of her alone.
“What are you doing here?” Goldie asks. Her voice is the same. Even the same tone that Evelyn remembers. Panicked. Afraid.
The guards grab Evelyn again. She fights them. “I wanted to see you.”
“Get her out,” says Goldie.
“Where, my lady?” the guard asks.
Goldie eyes Evelyn without turning her face, making her eyes bulge. “Away.”
“What are you doing? Why are you taking me away?” Evelyn asks as they hoist her feet from the ground and haul her off. “I just wanted to… see you—”
“Go!” Goldie shouts.
Evelyn doesn’t know why the tears come. She doesn’t know how to stop them, either. She crumples in the guards’ arms, so much that one of them has to carry her out on his shoulder.
“Mama, Ma… What did I even call you?” Evelyn shouts. “Come and see me. I just want to see you. M—” A sob cuts off her last word.
Ilvara bursts out of a nearby hallway. Evelyn reaches out to her as the guard carries her out of the dining room.
“Mama,” she whimpers.
“Set her down at once!” Ilvara commands the guard. She rushes over. Her hands are cold, her eyes dark and wide.
“Mama,” Evelyn says again.
“What are you doing here?”
“My mother is here,” Evelyn says.
“Come with me. Can you stand?”
Evelyn wobbles onto her feet. Ilvara supports her under the arms.
Evelyn looks back. “I want to talk to her.”
Of Embers Page 23
