Abeke wanted to swap places with one of her friends. Any of them. But she and Worthy had already navigated the caves, and time was pressing. She hugged the other three. “Don’t be late.”
It didn’t take long for the plan to go wrong.
Things started out fine. She, Worthy, and the other prisoners left the prison level, with her at the front and Worthy at the back. They reached the courtyard without anyone seeing them, then crept along the rear of the stable to the hay bales that were conveniently stacked up against the sea-facing outer wall.
Less convenient was the squad of Oathbound soldiers camped beside it.
“They weren’t there when we came over,” complained Worthy.
One of the soldiers, Li, smacked his fist into his palm. “We could rush them. Get a few of you over the wall while we keep them busy?”
Chan frowned. “That’s Captain Peng. Not good. The man’s cruel and dedicated to Song. He joined the Oathbound soon after the emperor’s death.”
Abeke drew back into the shadows of the stable roof. “There are almost twenty of them. All armed. We wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“Then we need another way out,” said Worthy.
They needed help.
Someone stealthy, good at sniffing out secret paths at night, someone like …
With a flash and tingle upon her arm, out stepped Uraza.
The leopard shook from her head to the tip of her tail, then nuzzled against Abeke. She turned around to watch the soldiers at the wall. Uraza growled softly.
“I’d prefer not to fight,” said Abeke. “Too many of us are weak from imprisonment. We need to find another way out.”
Uraza didn’t think much of that. She revealed her claws, but Abeke met the cat’s violet eyes unflinching. “Please, my friend.”
Uraza gave a twitch of her long whiskers, then sniffed around. She then sprang fifteen feet in the air, up onto the stable roof, landing with barely a sound. She looked down at Abeke, and her tail twitched.
“Looks like we’re going up,” said Abeke.
Li patted his brother’s shoulder. “Let me go first, then we’ll help lift.”
Chan braced himself against the wall, and Li used him as a ladder. The younger brother stepped into Chan’s cupped hands, then quickly hopped to his shoulders before hauling himself up next to Uraza. He made it look easy.
Abeke grinned. “You’ve done this before.”
“Sometimes we missed curfew,” said Chan with a wink. “Sneaking back into the barracks is a time-honored tradition.”
Worthy went up next, scaling the wall without Chan’s help, thanks to his catlike abilities. Li looked a little put out, but the pair extended their hands downward. One by one, using Chan as a first step, the other prisoners were lifted onto the sloping roof, even the crazy old man.
Abeke patted Chan’s shoulder. “You go now. I’ll come up last.”
Chan frowned as he judged the height of the wall. “That’s quite a jump.”
“I’ve learned a few tricks from Uraza.”
Chan was heavier than he looked, but Abeke stayed steady as he climbed up on her shoulders and scaled the wall. He was no worse than Conor, really. Then she took a few steps back.
Li and Worthy dangled as low as they could, reaching down.
Abeke shook her head. “You’ve seen me jump, Worthy.”
“This is a lot higher, Abeke. I’m not sure even you could—”
Three quick, springy steps, and Abeke bounced up.
She landed lightly on her feet at the top of the wall, completely ignoring the hands that had been offered her. “You were saying?”
“Keep low,” grumped Worthy. “We’re silhouetted against the sky.”
Crouching low, Abeke made her way to the front of the line with Uraza. The big cat’s eyes shone in the dark. She waited, tail flicking with excitement. Then she headed off, constantly checking over her shoulder like a protective mother, making sure all her kittens were lined up behind her.
The roof creaked and a seagull squawked angrily when they stumbled near its nest. Abeke froze as voices rose from below, holding up her hand. A stable boy stirred in his sleep, Abeke could see him through a crack in the tile. The boy was nestled under a blanket on a pile of straw. One of the horses looked up at her mid-chew. Abeke put her finger to her lips. The horse just stared blankly, then returned to its meal of oats.
The edge of the stable roof came close to the outer wall.
“I can’t jump that,” complained one of the nobles. “We need to find another way.”
“There isn’t time,” said Abeke. “And it’s not that wide. Only five feet.”
“I’m not doing it.” The nobleman folded his arms. “It’s a long drop.”
“Don’t think about the drop. Look, you could almost step over.”
He glared at her. “Do you know who I am?”
“The man who’s heading back to his cell if he doesn’t do what I say.”
“We must find another—yaah!”
The nobleman flew across, grabbing the side of the far wall as he landed.
Abeke stared at the crazy old man. “Did you just kick him in the backside?”
The old man lowered his foot guiltily. Then he took a step back and jumped over himself.
“Hey! What’s going on up there! You! Come down!”
The nobleman’s cry had alerted the Oathbound soldiers below. Now more were rushing toward them with spears.
“Jump!” Abeke shouted.
The rest of them leaped the gap as one of the soldiers hurled a spear. Abeke helped one of the prisoners over the side of the wall, then began looking for handholds.
The outer surface had been beaten by the elements for many years. Facing the sea, it had become pitted, cracked, and scratched. The once flat and seamless marble was now punctured by holes. The wall rested on a narrow cliff, but Abeke knew there was a path only a few yards farther. It led steeply down to Worthy’s hidden boat.
They needed to move.
Abeke and the others shuffled like crabs down the outer wall. Once they reached the bottom, Worthy did a head count before running off along the path. “This way!”
Abeke heard shouts from the other side of the cliff. The gates were on the opposite end of the palace, so the Oathbound soldiers were climbing up onto the stable roof themselves.
They’d be upon them in only a minute.
“Not much of a head start,” she muttered to Uraza. Then she turned to the rest of the prisoners. “Go! Follow Worthy!”
A quarrel zipped over her head. Uraza roared angrily.
Two soldiers lined the wall and were reloading their crossbows.
Time to leave.
Uraza sprang along the path. Abeke grabbed the old man. “Hurry up!”
The soldiers were climbing down the wall now. They moved slowly, encumbered as they were.
They were almost there!
The boat bobbed in the water, tied to a rock less than five yards from the cliff face. The tide had come in some; Worthy waded up to his chest before climbing in.
“Got you!”
A hand grabbed Abeke’s collar.
She spun and kicked out simultaneously, catching the soldier on the side of his knee. He cried out as he stumbled, but didn’t let go. Another soldier was a few feet behind him.
Uraza pounced. She flew overhead, slamming her forepaws into the man’s armored collar. The Oathbound cried out as he fell, knocking his head into a hard rock. He groaned as Uraza turned her attention to the line of soldiers descending the slope after them.
Worthy had untied the boat, and everyone piled in except for Li and Chan. They bobbed alongside and were clearly going to swim. Worthy waved frantically at Abeke. “Come on!”
Abeke swiped out both arms, ripping herself free of the soldier’s grip. “Uraza!”
The leopard was causing havoc. She clawed and bit and jumped and weaved between the clumsy stabs of the Oathbound. The path was too narrow for more th
an one at a time, but Uraza pounced from ledge to rock, ducking in and out of the battle. Men and women fell over themselves trying to escape her, and more than one soldier clutched desperately at the cliff face to avoid dropping into the water in their armor.
“Come on, Abeke!” yelled Worthy. “Jump!”
The rowboat was already heading away. The other prisoners were also shouting for her to jump.
“Uraza! We’re leaving!” shouted Abeke. Then she took a deep breath and …
A sharp blow connected with Abeke’s back, spilling the air from her lungs and sending her over the cliff. She hit the water hard. It was black and cold, and she sank straight down. She heard a dull splash somewhere to her right, then she attacked the water, beating it with her hands and feet to claw back to the surface.
Panic threatened to consume her.
An Oathbound soldier appeared beside her in the water. Abeke recognized the man Chan and Lin had called Captain Peng. His eyes were wild as he seized Abeke, wrapping his fingers around her wrist.
Abeke floundered. The soldier was pulling her lower!
Her cheeks swelled as what was left of her air bubbled out. The weight of the Oathbound drew her farther and farther below. It was black wherever she looked.
Then a second hand locked itself around Abeke’s other wrist. It pulled her upward with shocking strength.
With this new hand guiding her, Abeke could kick more confidently. She knocked Captain Peng in the head with her foot. The Oathbound’s grip loosened, then his weight disappeared completely. Abeke lost sight of Peng almost immediately. His pale hand was swallowed by the darkness.
Abeke concentrated on the pull of the other hand. After an agonizing few seconds, they broke the surface together.
“Worthy?” she gasped, after several long moments of grateful breathing. A wave crashed over her and she was almost pulled into the water again, but the strong hand dragged her up the ledge, beneath an overhanging rock.
Uraza appeared by her side, gently tugging her shirt. Abeke collapsed, relieved to have fresh air back in her lungs.
Blinking the water from her eyes, she saw Worthy’s boat far in the distance. They were way out now and weren’t coming back. Spears fell short as each stroke of the boat’s oars took it farther away.
Abeke sat up. If that was Worthy, then who … ?
The crazy old man squatted beside her. He grinned. “Splishy, splashy. Abeke’s no fish!”
Abeke hugged him, and he responded with a short yelp of surprise.
“No, I’m not,” she agreed.
“THE PALACE IS A LOT BIGGER THAN I THOUGHT,” SAID Conor.
Meilin nudged him along. “Take this left.”
He did as she told, but Conor felt they’d been down this corridor already. Despite Meilin’s protestations, they were very lost.
They carried on, keeping to the shadows, ducking into doorways and behind columns when they heard footsteps.
A gloomy ambience hung over the palace. The servants talked in hushed, wary tones and no one lingered.
Meilin frowned. “If it’s like this now, imagine what it’s going to be like after Song’s been in charge a year. Or a decade.”
“Where do you think she’s keeping the Dragon’s Eye?” asked Rollan.
Conor had wondered the same thing. “She’ll want it near her, that’s for sure. You saw the way the Oathbound are with the other bond tokens. Cordelia couldn’t stop fidgeting with hers.”
“Song’s personal chambers are that way,” said Meilin. “We could—quick!”
They ducked behind a doorway as armored footsteps clanged on the marble floor.
Conor’s ears twitched. He recognized the voices speaking.
“I’m worried about Song,” said Kana. “The stress is getting to her.”
“Oh, you noticed that too?” replied Sid. “Ranting about her dead father. She’s losing her mind.”
“Careful, Sid. She’s my oldest, best friend.”
There was a chuckle from Kana’s companion. “But you know I’m right?”
“I can handle Song, but it’s Cordelia I want to discuss,” said Kana. “You’ve seen what she’s like with the Wildcat’s Claw. I don’t trust her.”
“No one trusts her,” laughed Sid. “But what do you want done about her?”
“What do you think?”
There was a pause, then Sid replied more thoughtfully. “It won’t be easy, but we could do it.”
“Then sort it out. There are others who could use the Wildcat’s Claw. Brunhild isn’t likely to go on any rampages. Cordelia’s been useful, but now she’s a liability. We need to …”
The rest was lost as they disappeared around the next corridor.
Conor shook his head. “I almost feel sorry for Cordelia. Almost.”
But not surprised. Once in a while a rabid dog would wander into Trunswick. A pet might get infected, go savage, and attack anyone who crossed its path. There was only one sad way to take care of such animals.
Had the Wildcat’s Claw made things worse for Cordelia? It was a bond token, so who really knew what it was capable of?
Maybe these gifts were more dangerous than they’d even realized.
If he was honest, Conor would prefer to have nothing to do with them. Tembo, the first Greencloak, had hidden the gifts for a reason, and this was it. The tokens were dangerous in the wrong hands.
“This way,” said Meilin.
This part of the palace wasn’t as grand as the entrance hall. They passed by a small kitchen area, and Conor salivated at the sweet flavors drifting through the partially opened doorway. There was laughter coming from the servants’ quarters as they relaxed out of sight from their masters. Conor felt a pang of kinship. When the master was rotten, it was always the servants who suffered most.
They hurried up a flight of stairs, into what were the sleeping quarters. Lamps hung from the ceiling. Most were now extinguished or sizzling softly on low wicks.
Meilin stopped at a corner and put a finger to her lips. Creeping up next to her, Conor peeked around.
Two guards stood before a pair of bronze-clad doors. Strangely, these two weren’t in the usual Oathbound garb.
“Those don’t look like Kana’s men,” he whispered. “But they do look like they can handle themselves.”
Meilin nodded. “They would be the last of the old guard that she kept around. Father told me the emperor’s bodyguards are the deadliest warriors in the world. They’ve mastered six forms of unarmed combat and all are experts in sword, spear, bow, and halberd.”
Rollan tapped his head. “But nothing up here, right?”
“Wrong. Each has memorized the philosophy of Tang in its entirety—in the original ancient Zhongese. Six volumes, excluding appendices.”
“So they’re good,” said Rollan. “But they’re not Greencloaks.”
“Each has perfect command over his body. They can stand without moving for twelve hours.”
“Shh, one’s coming.” Conor pulled Meilin and Rollan behind a large vase.
One of the two guards rushed past. He looked uncomfortable, and moved in haste.
Conor raised his eyebrow. “Perfect command of everything but his bladder apparently.”
“But there’s still—”
Briggan sprang from his tattoo and bounded down the corridor. His claws clattered on the marble as he leaped at the guard.
There was a sharp cry, a thump, and then it was all over.
They ran down the corridor and there was Briggan, standing over the guard, his bared teeth an inch from the man’s throat. He let out a menacing growl. A very menacing growl.
“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” suggested Conor. “Briggan’s always hungry when he comes out of passive state. And grouchy when he’s not outdoors.”
“Br—Briggan?” The guard’s eyes widened. “The Great Beast Briggan?”
Conor scratched the wolf’s furry neck. “The one and only.”
Rollan put his palm on
the door handle. “You ready?”
The guard spluttered. “You can’t go in there!”
Briggan snarled and licked the man’s neck, brushing his teeth along the bare skin.
The guard shut up.
They needed to be quick before the other one returned. Quietly and slowly, Rollan opened the door to Empress Song’s private quarters.
Even though it was dark, it took Conor only a few moments to realize the room was empty. He went in, Meilin and Rollan right behind him. There were another two rooms leading off this one. Conor looked in one, while Rollan checked the other. Meilin stayed behind to search the antechamber.
Conor entered Song’s bedroom. The large bed was empty of linens, the blankets tossed on the floor.
A full-height window led out into the open air. Its curtains billowed in the rising wind. Conor spotted something lying at the threshold: an ornate wooden box with silk padding.
Perfect in size for the Dragon’s Eye.
He joined the others and handed the box to Rollan. “We’re too late. She’s gone off with it.”
Meilin wasn’t listening. She read through a set of scrolls abandoned on the table. “This is bad. Song’s written out all these instructions to her generals. She’s planning war.”
“Not exactly surprising,” said Conor.
Meilin waved to one of the scrolls. “If the other rulers knew about this …”
Conor glanced at the open window in Song’s room.
Was that a trick of the light, or was someone moving through the foliage beyond?
He gestured the others to be silent, then crept back in place, hiding himself to the side of the window.
Was it Song creeping back from wherever she’d gone? A secret spy who guarded the room from the trees?
A shadow stretched across the floor.
It was a girl, that much he could tell.
She stepped in, and Conor grabbed her.
“Hey!”
He blocked the fist the girl threw at his face, then sent her spinning across the room. She crashed against the bed in a tangle of sheets.
Conor leaped forward. “Don’t move.”
The girl pulled bedding off her and looked up at him. “Is that how you treat your friends?”
Then Abeke got to her feet and laughed.
The Dragon's Eye Page 9
