by Frost Kay
Her partner paused to scan the large, open hallway before them. When he was sure the coast was clear, he waved her forward. As they moved through the main corridor, she spied the doorway leading to the courtyard and her heartbeat sped up. Sage’s pace picked up, exceeding her guide’s. Her breath whooshed out at the sight of a dark blue sky and twinkling stars. A hand snatched her cloak, stopping her in her tracks.
“Slow down,” the Elite admonished. “Pull your hood up around your face, and lean on the cane like you’re aged. Make sure your braid is hidden, as it would give us away immediately.”
She did as he said, hunching over, and hobbling outside.
“Old mother, let me help you.”
He lifted her other hand up and placed it into the crook of his elbow. The pace was excruciatingly slow; the sky was already starting to lighten. They needed to move. Should she make a run for it? Her comrade tightened his grip on her hand as if he had guessed her thoughts.
Finally, they reached the gate. They were going to make it.
“What are you doing up this early?” The voice shattered the quiet of the early morning. “I thought the Elite usually slept in ’til the sun was high in the sky.”
Her muscles coiled, preparing to sprint. Sage had come this far. She was not going back.
“I am helping the old mother to the gate.”
The guard on the wall above them smiled. “Will you need any assistance outside the gate, old mother?” he inquired kindly.
In the scratchiest voice, Sage uttered, “No, young man, but thank you for your kind offer. These old bones aren’t as young as they used to be, but I can still get myself around. A good day to you.”
Her partner waved to the guard as they began their painstaking shuffle through the gate and into Sanee. With the tall, gray stone walls behind her, joy and elation filled her. She longed to sprint and stretch her legs. But soon. Very soon. For the next half hour, they wound down the hill and into the city.
The rebel moved her into a shadowy alley. “Rafe expects you. Goodbye, Blade.” He sketched a bow and disappeared from sight.
Sage shook her head at the nickname. Rafe called her the rebellion’s blade only once! And for some reason, it stuck.
She ditched the cane and straightened, rubbing her smarting back. She desperately wanted to see her family, but she knew she needed to find Rafe first. Time to find out what they’d all been up to this last month.
Twenty-Nine
TEHL
Tehl stared with narrowed eyes at the many papers littering his desk. No matter what he did, it seemed like they multiplied every time he blinked. This had to be the worst of his responsibilities, the paperwork. It always came in unrelenting waves. He picked up a petition that had something to do with the Midsummer Festival. Tehl read the same line five times before dropping it onto his desk and slumping into his seat with his eyes closed.
He had slept fitfully the previous night, spending most of it just staring at the ceiling. His conversation with his father kept running over and over in his mind. Nothing seemed clear, but one thing stood out to him. As much as he was loath to admit it, he was in the wrong when it came to the girl. His handling of the situation from beginning to end had been a long series of mistakes. Which meant he had to apologize. To a rebel. To a traitor. His day couldn’t get much worse.
His back pinched, interrupting his thoughts. He’d sat on that ledge for so long that his whole body ached. Maybe he was just getting old. He snorted and raised his arms above his head, stretching from left to right. A groan of pleasure escaped him and he wondered why stretching felt so good. Hell if he knew, but he was pleased his back had lessened its throbbing.
Tehl straightened and assessed the mountain of documents before him. He needed to get someone to help him in here.
The emerging sunrise poured light into the room, warming him. Tehl yawned loudly and blinked to clear his watering eyes. He needed to stop moping around and get down to business. He eyed the stack of letters concerning the festival like how a mouse eyes a snake. Before he could do anything with them, a quick rap sounded on the door. Damn, they found him already. He would hang himself if he had to discuss anything even remotely connected with decor.
“Enter,” he called gruffly.
Sam, Gav, and Mira, the blond healer, entered his office. Tehl’s smile dissolved at the distraught look on Mira’s face. She looked like someone died. His eyes bounced to Sam, his brother meticulously straightening his shirt. Gav’s face was beet-red. Something was wrong.
“What happened?”
No one answered him at first, and his eyes snapped back to Mira. She twisted her hands in her skirt, staring at her feet with tears dripping quietly down her face. The room was still and tense, and his heart pounded wildly as several thoughts flashed through his mind.
“Is it,” he croaked, and then cleared his throat. “Is it, father?”
“No.” Nothing else. Sam’s tone was emotionless.
What the hell happened? Tehl stood up and leaned on his desk. “Stars above! Someone tell me what is going on before I go mad.”
“She’s gone.”
Two words only.
Two words that froze him.
There was no doubt in his mind who she was. “Do you know where she went?” he rasped.
Sam shook his head, obviously irritated. It was the first expression he had shown since walking through the door. “We don’t. The Guard stationed at the gate did not see her leave. She could still be here in the castle but I doubt it. Someone with her training and skills would be long gone by now. If you like, we will still search the palace, but it will take a couple days to search the grounds too,” his brother huffed. “The only thing we know for sure is she had help.”
Tehl stared down at his piles of papers. She was gone. His chance to prevent a civil war, peacefully, was gone.
In an uncharacteristic display of anger, he shoved himself to his feet and threw everything off his desk. Breathing hard, he looked down at the clean wooden surface. He needed to reel it in; anger solved nothing. How did she get past Gav?
Tehl zeroed in on Gav. “How did you let this happen?” he snarled.
Gav’s fists clenched and small tremors rocked his forearms. “I did everything thing you asked,” he hissed.
Oh hell. Tehl took a step back. His cousin was beyond angry, furious even. If Gav hissed, it was time to walk the other way. His cousin hadn’t been this temperamental since he was a boy, barely on the cusp of manhood.
“I stayed with her since day one.” Gav stabbed a finger at him. “I slept in her room every night, cared for her, befriended her, and watched over her. I even let others assume she was my mistress, all to protect her! Don’t you dare put this on me!”
Gavriel was right.
Tehl held up a hand. “I am sorry for implying that this is your fault. It’s not. Thank you. This hasn’t been easy on you.”
He walked around the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Mira still hadn’t looked up from the floor.
“Mira,” Tehl called, trying to blot out the anger in his voice. “How did she escape?”
She peeked at him with tear filled eyes. “I don’t know. She gave no hint she would be leaving.”
“Was there anything unusual about last night?”
“No, not at all. It was like any other night, we ate, spent time by the fire, and I read while Gav and Ruby played chess. At some point, I fell asleep and Ruby tucked me in.”
“Sai,” Gav cut in.
“What?” Mira’s face scrunched in confusion.
“Sai. Before bed she told me to call her Sai.”
Tehl cocked his head and studied his cousin. Gav shifted and pinked a little bit. Interesting. That was not typical behavior. “What about you?”
“We talked while we played our game. Then we tucked Mira into bed. She hugged me, kissed me on the cheek, and, uh, called me brother. Then we went to bed.”
His brain snagged on kiss. Why the h
ell was she kissing Gavriel? Was she trying to seduce him?
“Don’t give me that look, Tehl. It wasn’t like that.”
Tehl wiped away whatever look was currently displaying his emotions.
“What was it like then?” Sam challenged. “She has only wanted you. Yesterday, she was close to murdering Tehl, but you talked her down. Please explain that. Exactly how close are you two?”
Mira glared at Sam. “Your tone makes it sound like they were having some clandestine affair. I’ve been present the whole time. Nothing of that sort ever happened.” Her eyes flickered to Gav then back to Sam. “She was comfortable with Gavriel because he took care of her and soothed her at night when she’d wake from the night terrors your men inspired,” she accused, furious.
Her narrowed eyes pierced him in his spot, “As for you, she might still be here if it weren’t for you. She was shaken after that stunt you pulled yesterday. Most of her experience at this castle has been a nightmare. What made you think she would change her mind and stay here to help you?”
All three men stared at the normally meek woman. She had a little fire in her. It took a moment for her anger to die out. Her eyes widened, and she sunk down into a deep curtsy. “Forgive my strong words, Your Highnesses.”
Tehl liked Mira, she was an intriguing blend of meekness and steel.
“Mira, there’s nothing to forgive. But satisfy my curiosity, how do you know we need her help?”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Just because I am a woman it does not mean I can’t see or hear. You’ve not been as quiet and discreet in my presence as you perhaps thought. But I’ve kept your secrets, and I will continue to do so.”
“Thank you, Mira. If we need you further, I will send for you. Have a wonderful day.”
Her gaze narrowed at his dismissal, but she only gave a slight nod, curtsying before she left, the door clicking shut behind her.
“We need her to be found, but use discretion. I doubt anything will turn up, but without her, drastic measures will need to be taken when dealing with the rebellion.” Tehl sighed. “Most importantly, we need to find who helped her. Her escape means that there are spies among us, in our home even. The rebellion leaders are not stupid. If they were willing to give up that knowledge just to free her, she is even more important than we guessed. Did she say what Sai stood for?”
“No, she didn’t, though I asked, but she avoided the question. She trusted me and that’s the only reason she gave me her nickname. I think she wanted me to have a real piece of her as a parting gift. I should have seen it.” Gav rubbed a hand across his forehead in agitation. “She called me ‘brother’,” Gav mumbled to himself.
Sam stepped to Gav’s side and clasped him on the shoulder. “She’s a spy, most of what she said to you was probably fiction. She needed your trust.”
Gav shook his head. “I am not naïve. Some of what she told me wasn’t real but I feel she told me as much of the truth as she could, given the circumstances. She wasn’t playing a game. She meant it.” Gav gazed at him steadily. “I returned her sentiment. I called her my sister.”
Tehl’s eyes bulged out of his head. Gav was willing to admit deep affection for her, and considered her a member of their family even. He couldn’t believe it.
“Truly?”
“I did. I spent almost a month with her. I helped nurse her back to health and held her in the middle of the night. You made me her guardian, and I took the responsibility seriously. How could you expect me not to get attached? She also cherishes Mira though. If Sai returns, it will be for her. We’ll need to keep eyes on her.”
“Is Mira a threat? Would she would help Ruby or Sai—whoever she is?” Tehl asked frankly.
“No, she would not betray the Crown, she is loyal. What I meant is that if Sai got hurt or in trouble, she would go to Mira, and Mira would help her.”
Tehl straightened, moving to the window. “We don’t have time to search for her this week. In seven days the Midsummer Festival will start. Nobility will arrive from all over Aermia and,” he hesitated, “I received word that a Methian prince will join us for the festival.”
Sam and Gavriel gaped at him.
Sam recovered first. “They haven’t visited our kingdom in almost one hundred years Tehl. Why now? A coincidence? I think not.” Sam asked, always pragmatic. “Do you think this bodes ill for us?”
“I can only guess. We treat them like guests, but we watch them like enemies. We need every available member of the Elite at our disposal this week. Sam, I need you to use some of your people to search for the girl. If you don’t find her in the next two days, hold off the search until after the festival has finished. We have too many things pulling at our attention as it is.”
“Well, I certainly want to be molested by many pretty women.” Sam’s eyes gleamed.
“Really, Sam? At a time like this?”
Samuel held his arms out in a what-can-you-do gesture. “Brother, you left yourself wide open. I mean, who uses the word ‘molested’ anymore? Why not ‘unscathed’ or ‘unharmed’?”
“Whatever,” Tehl grouched. “Don’t you have some information-gathering and rebel-catching to do?”
Sam’s lips spread into a mischievous smile. “I do, my lord. I will attend my duties immediately. Good day, sire.” Sam clicked his heels together and swept from the room.
“He has style. And he always manages to find the humor in a situation,” his cousin remarked. Gav stared out the window for a moment and then surprised him, “I decided to move my daughter here, so I have some arrangements to make, but if you need me all you need to do is ask.”
“That is the best news I’ve had in weeks!” He grinned at the thought of having their miniature relative running around the castle. “When should we expect her?”
“Within the next couple of weeks. Do you need me for anything else?”
Tehl glanced back at the obscene pile of papers and back to his cousin, a silent plea in his eyes.
“Not going to happen, Tehl. I will see you at dinner.” Gav backed out of the room, a crooked smile on his face.
“Respect. Does no one show the Crown respect these days?” Tehl asked himself.
Gav chuckled, closing the door. Tehl glanced distastefully at the pile of correspondence, making no move to touch the letters. Stalling. That’s what he was doing, stalling. He sank into his chair and began organizing the papers. He definitely would need coffee to get through all this.
Thirty
SAGE
She roamed the city, turning down random streets and alleyways to be certain there was no one following her. Sage peeked around a building and down the lane, spotting only a fisherman, a handful of washwomen, and a stumbling drunk. The washwomen seemed to be getting an early start to the day’s activities while the man was no doubt sobering up from an already forgotten night.
The smell of freshly baked bread teased her nose. Sage’s stomach rumble loudly, and she winced; sneaking around was pointless if her stomach gave her away. She needed food.
Sage tugged on her cloak, double-checking its hood was well in place. She took a last glance behind her, scanning the alley. Blessedly, still no signs of pursuit. She entered the lane, seamlessly blending into the group of washerwomen.
Her eyes darted left and right, searching for signs of danger. When the Crown came looking for her, and she was sure they would, they’d be looking for a woman on her own. They’d probably not take notice of the lowly washerwomen. People often saw only what they expected to see.
Whenever one of the women would look her way she would give them a polite smile—friendly enough that they wouldn’t think her rude, but not warm enough to invite conversation. Together, they meandered down the slick cobbled road when a familiar sight greeted her.
A dreary, worn down fishing shack. It blended well alongside the various other dilapidated structures. To anybody looking, it was a typical lower class home, but it actually held many important secrets. A sense of excitement overcame he
r, and she barely kept her feet from sprinting toward it. Instead, she discreetly separated herself from the group, approaching the battered edifice. Sage slipped into the narrow space between her gray shanty and another hole parading as a home. She scraped her hand against the rotting wood until she met with a rickety door in need of a new fresco. Sage shoved on the door until it swung inward on soundless hinges. She stepped in, shutting it behind her.
She blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the dark interior. It smelled like dust and molding cloth. Old furniture and faded carpets were haphazardly strewn about the space. As she stepped into the kitchen, she noted the lack of dirt on the floor. Sage tiptoed into a spacious pantry and, again, shut the door behind her.
She probed the wall and found the catch, hidden behind ancient jars of peaches and pickled herrings. A soft click sounded, and a hidden door sprung open. A proud grin curled her lips as she entered. The door was pure genius; no one looked for a door that was a part of the actual shelving.
Sage hunched over, creeping into the bitty space. The door swung shut on its own, trapping her in the dark. She took a calming breath and walked forward four steps. Lifting her hands in front of her, she reached for the spiral staircase hidden there. Cool iron touched her fingertips. Sage shuffled until her slippers met the unyielding metal stairway. She glided down the stairs without hesitation, missing not a step. She reached the bottom and strode directly forward, the placement of her feet exact. The place was rigged with traps; one wrong step and you would find yourself in a pit of jagged rocks. A door met her hand, and she rapped once, paused, and then knocked again three times swiftly and two times slowly.
She hadn’t minded the dark before but something about standing in it now had sweat breaking out on the back of her neck. The inky darkness pressed into her, and an onslaught of dark memories washed over her, making her gasp. Chains. Brown eyes. Pain. Fear.
