by Serena Rose
“So I figure if I’m going to follow anyone, it’s the woman who seems to think of us as people, instead of the people who seem to think of us as possessions.”
“Thank you,” I murmured breathlessly. “I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Probably either killed him or died yourself. You don’t exactly seem like a lie there and take it kind of girl.”
“I guess I’m not.”
“So what’s your plan then, lightning rider?”
“I...I don’t really know. I’ve kinda just been doing all of this on the fly.”
“That explains why you’re so terrible at it.”
I laughed, but it just made me wheeze, and I almost doubled over. “It’s nice to have a little help then,” I whispered once I had control of myself.
“Goodness knows, you needed it.” She stopped and gave me a once over. “Are you gonna be able to make a run for it?”
“It’s either that or die trying, right?”
“Good spirits. So I’m going to need you to give me a good wallop.”
“Pardon?” I sputtered.
“Look, my phone plan is making it look like you sprung yourself after the Duke got too handsy. That won’t work if I follow you out of here. So I’m going to need you to ruff me up a little and make that story a little more convincing.”
“What if they don’t believe you?”
She shrugged. “I’m just a stupid womenfolk. All I have to do is simper and cry a bit, and they’ll believe what they already think.”
I smiled weakly. “I wish we could have met under different circumstances. You seem like exactly the type of person I would love to know.”
She held out her hand. “Hopefully we’ll meet again then, when you do whatever it is you have to do to stop all of this. My little ones would love you.”
I reached out and clasped the offered limb. “That sounds lovely.”
We held that for several seconds, before she let go and took a deep breath. “Alright, enough with the sentimentality. We’re wasting precious seconds. Come on, at me now.”
It felt so utterly bizarre, but I pulled my fist back, then released it with my full weight behind it. My knuckles connected, and pain laced up my arm.
“God!” she hissed as I stumbled forward. She caught me, and pushed me back up. Her cheek was red, but that was about it. “One more oughta do it. Put your whole body into it.”
“I am,” I retorted before rechambering. With another burst of energy, I lashed out.
I landed again, and this time when she straightened, her eyebrow was split and just beginning to trickle. “That should do it.” She lay down on the ground and arranged herself in what looked like the most uncomfortable position. “Immediately to the right there’s a servant’s passage. You take that, and it should lead you to the laundry or the larder. Either way, you should be able to slip out.”
“Here’s to hoping.”
I gave her a little salute—not that she would know what that meant—and stumbled off. But as I walked, I realized that I probably wasn’t going to make it far on my own, considering how bruised and battered I was. Perhaps calling in a little reinforcement would be a good idea.
I went to the first cell I could, and rifled through the keys until I found one that looked similar to the one that had opened my own cell. Shoving it into the lock, I turned it until I heard a click, then swung the door open.
A pile of skin and bones looked up at me from the floor, blinking dolefully. “Your freedom’s here if you want it,” I said, glancing around to make sure they weren’t shackled before moving on.
“What are you doing?” Carva called from where I had left her.
“Calling in backup.”
“Oh, I guess that’s a good idea.”
“Yes. So, go back to lying down and pretending to be beaten.”
“Oy, someone’s suddenly feelin’ in charge.”
I snorted, but kept going. Cell by cell, until a dozen or so prisoners in various states of falling apart were either stumbling or jogging down the narrow path to freedom that we had. Safety in numbers, right?
Sure, we would catch a lot more attention in such a large group, but I was hoping that having a bit of a pack running wild across the castle would offer some distraction. Unless they all followed me, of course.
I picked up my pace, and made it to the end of the hall, where we were treated to a spiral staircase. I made my way up, my breath rasping in my ear. When this all was said and done, I was going to treat myself to a deliciously warm bath. With bubbles. And champagne.
We reached the top of the stairs and I peeked out. Whatever guards were supposed to be here were still AWOL. “This way,” I murmured, gesturing with my finger and heading where Carva had told me to go.
But one of the dirty, bloody prisoners grabbed my wrist. “No. That’s one of the most commonly traveled at this time of day. We want to go to the western halls.”
I nodded. “Well you go there and take whoever you want with you. It would be better if we split up into groups.”
“That way if one of us is caught, the others might escape.”
“I know of another path,” a quiet, female voice said from the back of our group. “I worked as a scullery maid here. One of the wineries collapsed, but the tunnel to it is still passable. Just…cramped.”
“Alright. Everyone pick your poisons. You can follow any one of the three of us, or go off on your own. If we are caught, I’ll give you all the same advice. Get as far away from me as quickly as you can. Your chances of survival will become exponentially better.”
We all collectively jerked as we heard running footsteps echo down the hall. We didn’t need any more motivation, and we took out into a dead run. Well, the closest each of us could get to a full-on sprint.
I wasn’t sure quite what we were looking for at first, but I spotted a small, just barely tall enough door only half visible behind a tapestry. If there was ever an entrance for the lower-class citizen of the palace, that was it.
I slammed into it, and it nearly flew off its hinges. I was sure I would come to regret that later, but for now I didn’t care. I had come so far, and had so many missteps, I was going to get free one way or another.
We ripped down the passageway, and sure enough, we had to burst past several clusters of servants as they went about their business. Food, linens and god knows what else clattered to the floor, but I didn’t have time to care.
I had this vague feeling within me that our luck had to run out soon, and sure enough, we barreled into what had to be some sort of temporary sleeping quarters for servants who needed a rest. Not that the simple, cotton stuffed cots on the floor were particularly intimidating. Rather, it was the several soldiers that had just come sprinting in through the other side of the room.
The two other prisoners and I didn’t need to say anything. We all broke out in different directions. I went to the left, one to the right, and one back the way we came. Just like I predicted, they paid no mind to the others, and came only after me.
I blew through the narrow hall, my heart thundering like its own hurricane. I saw the end rapidly approaching, and launched myself at it with all my strength.
I erupted through the barrier, and crashed into yet another hallway that I didn’t recognize. I looked from right to left, but I didn’t have any chance to debate. I went to the right and sprinted to the door I saw at the other end.
The footsteps at my back were growing louder. They were gaining on me. Which of course they would. I was so many different colors of bruised right now that I was surprised I was even capable of moving at the speed I was.
Adrenaline did some wondrous things.
As I grew closer to the door, I noticed it looked like it was made of a much different material than whatever the servant’s halls had been blocked off with. I wasn’t going to be able to just slam my way through this one.
But slowing down to open it would make me lose too much ground.
&
nbsp; Well…I had been through a lot. How much could slamming into the door at full speed hurt me compared to everything else I had been through?
The answer was, a lot.
The air whooshed out of my lungs, and for the briefest of seconds I couldn’t figure out where the latch was. But the confusion cleared, and I gripped it, shoving it down with all of my might and launching myself through.
“Great. More stairs.”
But I threw myself up them, never stopping. I could do this.
I passed window after window, bright light streaming through in a harsh juxtaposition to the stressful mood I was embroiled in.
Up, up, up I went. My lungs burned. My legs burned. Everything burned. But I couldn’t stop.
Finally, I saw yet another door, but this one was wide open. I scuttled through, then slammed the partition closed. I had less than seconds, so I grabbed the closest piece of furniture I could find and yanked it into position to be a barricade. Thank god the door opened inwards, otherwise I wouldn’t have a hope.
But banging sounded against the wood, and I looked around frantically. I seemed to be in some sort of astrology tower? I saw what looked like star charts taped all over the ceiling, and shelves filled to the brim with inks, parchment, tomes, scrolls and books. A real nerd paradise that I would have thoroughly enjoyed if not for the resounding thuds against the door.
There were several windows, and I ran over to the nearest one and peered out. I was high up. Way too high up to jump out and expect to survive. Desperately, I started tearing through the shelves, praying for something, anything that might get me out of this situation.
And that was when an ear-piercing roar rolled through the tower. I clutched my hand over my ears, and looked towards the open window.
A familiar black shape was hurtling towards us. It was barely the size of my thumbnail, but rapidly growing bigger and bigger.
“Myrik!” I screamed, joy and relief flooding through me in a potent cocktail. “Myrik!”
It was impossible that he had heard my cry, and yet the figure banked left, hard. He was coming for me!
As if on cue, the soldiers barreled into the door and managed to scoot the improvised barricade forward. I had one more collective tackle, or maybe two, before they were in here and it wouldn’t matter if the scaly dragon was coming.
What better time to do a trust fall?
Lifting my skirt and tying it up into my waistband, I clambered into the window. It was even farther down when I was standing on the broad sill, and a too strong breeze could easily send me hurtling to my doom.
A crash sounded behind me, and sure enough, the soldiers came pouring in. It seemed a few more had joined their number, which was exactly what I needed.
“You better catch me, you son of a bitch,” I called, before putting all the strength I had into my legs and swan diving out of the opening.
It was fun for a second, like a rollercoaster without all the uncomfortable lap bars and vibrating of the engine, but then my speed increased as I hurtled through the air and it headed steadily towards the terrifying ground.
I screamed, half in fear and half in exhilaration. It seemed I was going to escape the Prince’s clutches one way or another. It was about time that threat finally panned out.
Another roar shook me, even as I rapidly descended through the air. The dragon swooped low, diving much too far under me, before cutting upward. I reached out, only to be snatched in his talons as he rocketed past.
The force of the catch knocked the wind out of me, but I didn’t care. He braked once more, as volleys of arrows were shooting after us as he wheeled in the sky.
And then we were off.
The castle rapidly grew farther as Myrik’s great wings beat around me. It was impossible to hear anything, and both my face and fingers were freezing, but a giddy sort of elation was filling me from scalp to the tips of my toes.
I clung to his leg like a teddy bear, alternating between laughing and crying into his armored hide. I was quickly coming down off my euphoric high, and everything that had happened was quickly catching up to me with a vengeance.
But it didn’t matter. I had made it. The book wasn’t closed on me yet, and now I had a clear view of exactly who I needed to bring down to get the peace that I wanted.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I was in and out of lucidity as we flew, but I didn’t mind. Each second that I went under was a chance to rest, and each time I came to I got to re-remember that I had somehow magically escaped from an entire fortress of people intent on keeping me there.
But if I had thought I knew pain before, it was definitely nothing compared to the burning discomfort that claimed every single nerve ending in my body. By the time we approached a mountain range, my limbs were locking into position and my lips were cracking. It was cold, it was wet, and the ride was not smooth. Not that I was complaining but…okay, maybe I was complaining just a little.
But we did land, and that was what mattered.
Myrik dove towards what absolutely looked like a solid side of the mountain, but instead of crashing to our untimely deaths, we flew through the now shimmering patch. I yelped in surprise as we coasted through the wide entrance then landed in a smaller version of the meadow the breeding pens had once been in.
I never thought I would be so happy to see glow stones peppering an artificial sky, and yet here I was, tears streaming down my cheeks in pure, undiluted relief.
He released me, and I just kind of flopped over in a pitiful heap. Black smoke engulfed me, but I didn’t even have the energy to hold my breath while I waited for it to dissipate. Surprisingly, it didn’t taste all that horrible. It was dusty, and had a twinge of mold, but it by far wasn’t the worst thing ever.
Strong hands scooped me up, and I was pinned to a warm chest. It was a secure hold, but not painful. Or at least not painful compared to everything else that was going on in my body.
“You saved me,” I murmured, looking up at the strong jaw I knew so well.
But his voice was laced with anger as he responded. “You are an idiot. Why did you run off like that? You nearly killed Dwyllverys and yourself!”
“But it worked, didn’t it?”
“You are barely alive and I literally caught you after you took a running leap out of a high tower.”
“But it worked.”
I could have sworn I saw his jaw muscles move in what could possibly be a half-smile. “I do wish you could have been there to see their faces when they realized what you had done. Watching them realize that they owed our ability to escape without leaving a single soul, or important information behind was most enjoyable.”
“Good,” I breathed. “Maybe they’ll give up on this whole asshole thing they’ve got going on.”
“I would not count on it. The Queen and Ilvis’ battle was interrupted. Without a victor, tensions have not eased. In fact, they might have even escalated in such close quarters.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” After all I’d been through, the torture, the spy shenanigans, nearly being crushed to death, they still couldn’t get their act together long enough to ensure the continuation of their species? What did I have to do to prove to them that I was trying to help them?
“I am not. Perhaps stubbornness and being too old for our own good go hand in hand.” He pulled me closer. “But that is all of little matter right now. We need to get you to Dwyllverys before you bleed out all over my robes.”
“Come on now, you know I’m too stubborn for that.”
“You have a point,” he conceded. “But you should conserve your energy anyways.”
“I think…I think I just might.” I slowly lowered my lids, and for the first time in weeks, I wasn’t in fear as I slid into sleep.
*
I came to slowly, aware of dimly muted shouts just on the other side of a nearby wall. I groaned and sat up to see I was in a fairly nondescript room, although bandages and empty potion bottles littered the floor everywhere.
“—bviously a traitor!”
“How in all of the eleven layers of hell do you come to that conclusion!?” That was unmistakably Myrik.
“How else can you explain how easily she evaded capture? There is no way they just let her go, unless it was specifically to get her back into our folds.”
“Evaded capture?” That was Dwyllverys. “She had a fracture in her leg, a dislocated arm, and a list of other injuries! What about that is easy?”
“You are all blinded by this delusion that a human is some sort of savior of our people!”
“You are the one who’s blinded by your own inability to realize that we will all die if we stay on the same path we have been on!”
As much as the other voices made my irritation double, it was nice to hear Myrik defend me so passionately. Normally he only seemed to have two tones: derisive and condescending. But now, as I listened from the other side of a wall, I heard so much more than that.
He cared for me, at least somewhat. It made me feel that much less alone.
A sudden quiet fell over the shouting, and I wondered what happened, until I heard the calm, collected voice of the Queen.
“I thought I made my views clear on such discussions.” Her voice was dangerously low, lower than I had ever heard it before.
“Yes Your Majesty. We apologize.”
“We have already lost our capital, and half of the pens you were so keen on maintaining. Until we have a way to ensure that we are completely prepared to defend ourselves from another attack, there will be no more infighting. No more of these pointless arguments. We are dying, and if you cannot feel the life being squeezed from us, then there is less hope for us than I had thought.”
There were quiet murmurs and the shuffling of feet, and eventually the hall was silent. I was glad I wasn’t there to see the Queen’s gaze as she said that. It sounded absolutely terrifying. Granted, it would probably be a bit satisfying to send those idiots scuttling.
The latch at the door clicked, and Dwyllverys entered, hard arms laden yet again with pastes and bandages.
