The Midnight Spy

by Kiki Hamilton

  They rode for several minutes before Sebande spoke. “Aren’t you afraid to return to Sartis?”

  “Aren’t you?” Nica retorted.

  “Jonn’s right,” Sebande muttered. “You’re not like other girls.”

  Nica blinked in surprise. “Shanks said that?”

  “He also told me to guard you.” Sebande’s tone shifted. “You can argue with him about that, as well as about your return to Sartis.”

  The ride back to the stables didn’t take long. Dawn was streaking the sky with swathes of pink light as they approached. Sebande pulled to a stop while they were still hidden in the trees.

  “We can’t ride in at this hour of the morning without exposing your face,” he said. “If Tarantu is involved with Princess Jaaniyah’s kidnapping, then we can’t take a chance someone might report seeing you. There’s only one way.”

  Nica glanced back over her shoulder and saw his lips press together as though trying to hold back a smile. Suddenly his intent became clear.

  “Oh no.” She pointed a finger at him. “You are not hauling me in there like a sack of potatoes again.”

  “It’s the only way we can keep your face hidden. Do you have a better idea?” At Nica’s silence he continued. “Slump forward and pull your hood over your face, like you’re asleep. I’ll go as quickly as I can.”

  Nica clenched her teeth in frustration. “Hold this.” She handed him the book of quatrains she had pulled from the pocket of the cloak. “I want this wherever you’re taking me.” Nica glared at the soldier before she grudgingly covered her head and slumped forward in the saddle.

  Sebande took the thin book and slid it inside his jacket. “Keep your head down—” he ordered as he urged the horse forward— “and stop talking.”

  He brought the horse into the stables at a brisk canter and slid from the saddle the instant the beast stopped, pulling Nica along with him. In one easy movement he slung her over his shoulder and headed toward the palace entry. Nica hung limp, letting her arms dangle, cursing Sebande silently with every step.

  “Ho, Sebande, what about your horse?” one of the stable hands called.

  “I’ll be right back. My friend had too much to drink. I want to pour him into his room before he loses his liquor down my back.”

  “Aye, I see.” The man chuckled, returning to his work.

  Sebande exited the stables and hurried up the steps. Nica had no idea where he was taking her. More than once she wondered what she’d been thinking to agree to let him bring her back to the palace.

  They traversed several hallways, without meeting anyone, for few people were up and about at this hour of the morning. Even the roosters hadn’t begun crowing yet. Nica saw the bottom of a wooden door open and Sebande’s booted feet cross the jamb before he bent down and stood her up.

  “There,” he said with satisfaction. He reached out an arm to steady her as the blood rushed to her head and she staggered to find her footing. “Safe and sound and no longer my problem.”

  Before Nica could reply a hoarse voice interrupted them.

  “Sebande, what the hell did you do to me last night?”

  As one, Nica and Sebande turned. Jonn Shanks stood leaning against the door frame that led into his bedchamber. He was still shirtless, the blood-stained bandage around his middle more red than white. His long hair looked damp and was swept back from his face as though he’d just washed.

  “At least you got some sleep,” Sebande replied. “Do your ribs feel better?”

  “My head is pounding so bloody hard I can’t think straight enough to know where else I hurt. Who the hell’s with you? Are they part of your evil plot, too?” He took an uneven step in their direction, walking unsteadily as though the floor was heaving like the deck of a ship.

  “It’s me, Shanks,” Nica replied, pushing her hood back from her hair, unsure of the reception she would receive. “Nica.”

  Shanks stopped. His expression sobered as his gaze went from Nica to Sebande.

  “What’s happened?”

  “It’s Jaaniyah.” Nica moved closer to him. “She’s been kidnapped.” She wondered at the emotion she saw flicker across this face.

  “When?”

  She gave him the necessary details while he listened attentively, all signs of pain gone. She left out the part about visiting him while he slept.

  Shanks jerked his head toward the other room. “Sebande, you can move faster than me at the moment. Would you please grab me a clean shirt?” Shanks took an uneven step toward Nica. “And light the torches out here,” he muttered, “it’s the least you can do.” Shanks motioned to Nica. “Come sit over here. I want to hear what Sebande knows.”

  With a painful grimace he tried to hide, Shanks shrugged on the shirt Sebande dropped in his lap.

  Nica nodded at his wound. “What happened?”

  The young soldier smiled at her with a wry grin. “I met a sword that liked the taste of my flesh.”

  Nica eyed the bandages covering the seeping wound. “But I suspect the wielder of that sword was kissed by Mercedes before the fight was over.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sebande turn to look at her.

  “Ah, yes, I guess we had a conversation about that, didn’t we?” Shanks gave her an easy smile. “I’ll have to remember that you have a dangerous memory.”

  Nica noticed he didn’t answer her question. “Not as dangerous as your lifestyle.”

  “Yes, well, hazards of the profession.”

  She nodded at his wound. “Have you had anyone look at that?”

  Shanks gave a scoffing laugh then immediately winced. “Believe me, Sebande was enough. I don’t think I could survive any more medicinal intervention.” He looked at his friend, his expression serious again. “Sebande, tell me what you know.”

  Sebande told of Nica finding him and convincing him that Jaaniyah had indeed been kidnapped. “I told Heathron of the situation and he sent others to follow her trail. Then I brought her—” he jerked his head at Nica— “the horse she requested.”

  “Horse?” Shanks repeated, looking at Nica with a confused frown. “Why did you want a horse?”

  Before Nica could answer, Sebande continued in a conversational tone. “She wanted to go to the cathedral. In the middle of the night. Alone. ” He scowled in Nica’s direction. “So I followed her and brought her back.” Sebande put his hands on his hips. “And now she’s your problem.”

  “I don’t intend to be anyone’s problem,” Nica interrupted. “I can take care of myself just fine. You didn’t need….”

  “Now she wants to go to Sartis.” Sebande ignored Nica. “On her own, of course. Because she thinks she can sweet talk Mosaba into returning her sister.” The tall young man rolled his eyes in disgust.

  Shanks’ mouth hung open in a look of utter shock. “Bless the Ancients, girl, what have you done to Sebande? I haven’t heard him talk that much since I nearly drowned in the river when I was five.”

  “It’s because she’s as hard-headed and stubborn as you,” Sebande replied, clearly still irritated. “The two of you are enough to make a man drink and forget about stopping.” He looked Shanks up and down. “You look well enough to care for yourself for a bit. I’ve got horses to tend.” Unsmiling, he bowed his head. “M’lady.”

  Sebande was almost to the door when he stopped and whirled around. He retraced his steps, pulled the skinny volume of The Ages out of the folds in the back of his vest and thrust it at Nica. Without another word he stalked from the room.

  Shanks looked at Nica. A grin twisted his lips. “Well, I’d say you’ve made an impression.”

  Nica lifted her nose. “I wonder if it’s ever occurred to him that I don’t enjoy his company any more than he enjoys mine.” She placed the book on the table and opened the cover and brushed through the pages.

  “T….T…” she muttered as she counted, running her finger ran down the page.

  “What have you got there?” Shanks peered at the pages before Nica. �
��Is it a ransom note of some kind?”

  “Here it is,” she said, stabbing her finger on the page. “Listen:

  A tower slowed watches and waits

  An unwitting accomplice for the hand of fate

  Now into a box what was once a row

  The simple answer of where to go.”

  Nica looked up at Shanks, her eyes glowing with excitement. “A tower slowed… the clock in Berjerac runs several seconds slower than its twin in LaBricé because of the dry air in Sartis. Do you think that’s what it means?”

  Shanks shook his head. “Slow down, Nica. What are you talking about? What is that book?” He ran his hands through his hair, pulling the blonde strands away from his forehead. “Remember, I’m not at my best at the moment.”

  “Getheas,” Nica said. “We think Mosaba is after the Getheas Stone.”

  “The legend?”

  She held up the book for Shanks to see. “These quatrains might point the way.”

  “To where? Sartis?” Shanks’ voice was edged with disbelief. “Are you mad?”

  Nica glared at him. “I think Jaaniyah’s kidnapping is tied up with Mosaba’s quest for the Stone.”

  “So you’re willing to risk your life to return to Sartis to chase a myth?”

  She raised her chin. “There are some who believe. Mosaba is among them. It’s possible the Stone exists and if it does, Becknah is right. We need to find it before Mosaba does.”

  She ran her fingers over the lines of the quatrain. “Based on this, it looks like we have more than one reason to go back to Sartis.”

  heir departure from HighGarden went unnoticed with Shanks in charge. Though she wasn’t sure she could trust him, she felt safer out in the open with Shanks than hidden alone in Jaaniyah’s rooms.

  They carried packs of food and water, along with the map she’d stolen from Mosaba. Nica had tucked a long dagger Shanks had given her inside the lining of her boot.

  They didn’t wait for nightfall to leave. Instead, they headed out in the early afternoon, Sebande riding ahead as scout. If Shanks was in pain, he didn’t show it. Nica still wore her dark pants and riding boots, the oversized cloak hiding her figure. Shanks had insisted that they pack one of Jaaniyah’s gowns, just in case.

  In case of what, Nica didn’t know. She couldn’t imagine standing in Mosaba’s castle again, in any kind of garb, but if she needed to, she would. She shuddered at the thought of Mosaba finding her identical twin. His rage over Nica’s escape would know no limits and she feared Jaaniyah would bear the brunt of his anger.

  THEY’D BEEN RIDING for several hours and the sun was an orange ball low on the horizon when Shanks signaled for Nica to pull her horse up beside him.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she said, shifting in the hard saddle. They were surrounded by unfamiliar forest. “How about you? How are your ribs feeling?”

  “I assure you, I can feel every one of them,” Shanks said.

  Nica gestured toward his side. “Let me take a look and see what condition the wound is in.”

  Shanks shook his head. ‘I’m fine.” He pointed toward a rocky cliff in the distance. “I told Sebande we would meet him past the rocks over there. The horses need to rest and we can see what he says lies ahead. Follow me.” His jaw muscles flexed as he clenched his teeth and kicked his horse into a canter.

  Within thirty minutes, they had dismounted and Shanks had a small smokeless fire burning under an overhang of rock. He disappeared for a few minutes then came back and dropped a rabbit at her feet. Nica stared at the poor dead creature, then her eyes slid over to where Shanks was rubbing the horses down. Did he expect her to cook this?

  She gritted her teeth and picked up the rabbit by its ears, noting the softness of the fur. She rested the blade of her dagger against its back and closed her eyes. She must have made a sound because the next thing she knew, Shanks had taken the creature from her hands with a strange expression, like he was trying not to laugh.

  “Never skinned your dinner before, I take it?”

  Nica shook her head, relieved to release her grip on the dead rabbit.

  “Allow me,” he said. He stepped to the edge of the campsite and within a few minutes he was back with the bundle of meat.

  “There you go.” He smiled at her. “We’ll save that lesson for another day.”

  “Thank you,” Nica murmured as she gingerly set what was left of the rabbit down on a rock. She found a stick and after a few tries, pierced the meat and propped it to hang over the fire and cook.

  Shanks finished with the horses and turned them loose to graze in the underbrush near a small brook babbling through the rocky terrain.

  “Will we be going back over a sliver?” Nica asked, eyeing the way Shanks was holding his left side. Did she dare ask to check his bandage again?

  “It depends on what Sebande has to tell us.” Shanks sucked in his breath as he eased down next to Nica where she sat near the fire. With the grimace, he adjusted his back against a rock. “He mentioned Toppen was in the forest outside of the palace.”

  “Yes.”

  “How did he find you?”

  Nica shrugged. “I guess he’d stayed in the area hoping for word of what became of me.” She glanced at Shanks from the corner of her eye. He seemed tense. “I told him to go on to Pont d’Suree without me.”

  Shanks leaned his head back against the rocks and stared straight ahead. “And what is in Pont d’Suree?”

  “We were going to go to University there,” Nica said. “It seemed like a good place to start over.”

  Shanks’ face remained expressionless. “You must be relieved to know your friend is alive.” He cocked his head to look at her. “Now tell me about these quatrains again.” His lips curved in a smile. “I think my head is almost back to normal. Maybe I can make sense of what you’re saying this time.”

  Nica pulled the book from an inside pocket in the back of her cloak and recited the poem telling of two daughter’s royal born.

  “That was the first one; the quatrain that lines up in the ‘G’ position of the word Getheas. Becknah thought the lines referred to me and Jaaniyah.” She bent her head and concentrated as she thumbed through the pages. “Here. This is the one for the first ‘E’.”

  She began to read in a quiet voice:

  “The power within a stone now lies

  For one to live, many will die

  An ancient promise marked with a seal

  A clue, long hidden, waits to be revealed.”

  She raised her head. His blue eyes, fringed with dark lashes, were fixed on her with an intent expression. He was so close, she could see each whisker that shadowed his carved jaw. “Can you guess what it means?”

  Shanks put a finger to his head, pretending to think before he threw his hands in the air. “I have no idea. Something to do with the cathedral?”

  Nica blinked in surprise. “Well, yes, actually, you’re right. That’s why I went there last night.”

  He leaned close and whispered in a low, teasing voice, “Then tell me, fair maiden, did the clue reveal itself to you?”

  “It did.” Her voice came out in a whisper. It was as though she was being pulled toward him.

  He reached up to brush away a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid. His rough fingers lingered on her brow before tracing her cheekbone. “And what secret did you find has been hidden all these centuries?”

  Nica’s breath caught in her throat at his touch. “It was a crown.”

  “Well, I’m glad to see you had enough sense to rest.” Sebande’s voice cut into their conversation. “But I wouldn’t suggest getting too comfortable. We have a long ride ahead of us.”

  Nica reached for the sticks holding the meat above the fire with a guilty start. She hoped Sebande thought the color on her cheeks was from the heat of the small blaze.

  A small sigh escaped from Shanks as he looked up at his friend. “What have you learned?”

>   “The princess and Becknah have not been seen at any of the slivers.” Sebande hunkered down before the fire on the other side of Shanks. “Which means if they’re heading back to Sartis they’ve either gone south to Mar’ligaan where they could sail for Galeron, or north through the Narsgededon forest, where they’ll head for the Braaks’faa Valley and cut over through the Spires mountains.”

  Shanks frowned. “They wouldn’t start a mountain crossing at this time of year.”

  Sebande picked up a stick and poked at the fire, causing a shower of embers to explode into the air. “Or, they’re holed up somewhere waiting for us to leave the area before they cross a sliver.”

  “What’s Heathron doing with his men?” Shanks asked.

  “”He’s already sent Joneqy and Masiah down toward the port. But if Tarantu’s men are ahead of them, they’ll disappear with the princess like sea mist once they get into Mar’ligaan.” Sebande cast an eye at Nica. “Are you cooking something?”

  With a gasp, Nica jumped up and yanked the stick holding the meat out of the flame. Dark smoke rose from the blackened lump. There was a moment of silence as they stared at the remains of their charred dinner.

  Sebande scowled and shook his head, then continued on as if there’d been no interruption. “He asked for volunteers to go into the Braaks’faa Valley but I heard there were no takers because the Valley is supposed to be haunted. So he sent Tanniers and Rushfont.”

  Shanks chuckled. “That should make a man out of Rushfont.”

  “The rest are strung out along the rim of the Divide.”

  Shanks raised his chin at Nica. “Since cooking doesn’t seem to be one of your talents, perhaps strategic warfare is. What are your thoughts on where they might have taken Jaaniyah?”

  Nica blushed at his sarcasm and wondered if he was irritated at her presence or just her incompetence. She glanced at Sebande to see his reaction, but his features were guarded and impossible to read.