by R. C. Lewis
An intruder…a spy.
I tried to back away, but the man grabbed my wrist and squeezed a pressure point. The bolt of pain forced me to drop the knife.
Instinct took over. I swung my free hand at him, but he caught it easily.
“What did you do to Dane? Let me go!”
He didn’t. He spoke in a guttural language I couldn’t understand.
Something locked around my knees, immobilizing me before I could give the intruder’s shins a sharp kick. The man’s gaze shifted several sniffs below my eyes, giving me another reason to glare. He released my hands and reached around my neck.
“Don’t touch me!” I tried to shove him back, but my arms had turned to sludge sometime in the last ten seconds. When my strength failed me, I went to my final weapon, unleashing obscenities like I hadn’t since Dane first kidnapped me.
The man made no response other than a tightening of his jaw. Then he closed a fist on the apple pendant I wore and yanked so hard, I thought my neck would break before the chain did.
More words failed to make sense as the man disappeared into the blur surrounding me. Then a familiar electronic voice mimicked the words.
That explained what was holding my knees.
“Dimwit, you useless blazing scrap-heap! Is there anyone you won’t let reprogram you?” The buzzing in my ears got so loud, I could barely hear myself.
The man returned with an injector in his hand.
I struggled so hard, I overbalanced Dimwit. My knee, hip, and elbow slammed against the floor. The intruder stood over me, blocking the light.
A shadow standing over me, the shadow that makes my heart stop…I couldn’t breathe. My cheeks were wet. I didn’t want to die. When he knelt by me, I lashed out again, hitting and scratching and doing anything I could to make him back off.
“I won’t let you!” I screamed.
Never trust Olivia.
Mother’s voice. It made no sense. I didn’t trust Olivia, but that hadn’t stopped her guard from lying in wait to assassinate me.
Find the truth.
“Essie, please! It was the necklace.”
That broke through. The necklace. Olivia’s gift.
She’d poisoned me.
EVERY INSTINCT SAID TO FIGHT, but the tiny corner of my mind that whispered “poison” forced the rest back long enough for the injector to touch my neck.
Then fire. The buzzing throughout my body turned into a jittering flame in every vein, every pore. I might have screamed. I might have died. Then just as quickly as the fire had come, it was gone. Left in its place was a vague feeling that I might be sick.
“Essie, I’m sorry. Dimwit, move, let’s get her up.”
It was Dane. It always had been Dane, not some shadowy Midnight Blade assassin. I couldn’t help holding tight as he moved me to a chair, reassuring myself that he was solid and real. Once my head cleared, though, I glared at the injector on the floor.
“What was that supposed to do, kill me before the poison did?”
His hand rested on my knee. Definitely real. “No, that poison wouldn’t have killed you. It just makes you behave erratically. The antitoxin is uncomfortable, but it works fast.”
Uncomfortable didn’t begin to describe it, but I latched on to the more important information. “How did you know? Olivia has her poisons concocted in the labs, and you didn’t even know about them until I told you.”
“She didn’t concoct this one. Kip told me about it. It’s old. Extract of the river lily. Back around the War of Exile, your ancestors used it on people to make them think they’d been controlled by Candarans.”
The War of Exile. What we called the Liberation on Windsong. I touched my neck, feeling the emerging bruise left by the necklace. “Why wouldn’t Olivia use a deadly poison, then?”
Dane heaved a tense sigh. “If I had to guess, I’d say she wanted the strange behavior to discredit you, making it easier to kill you without making your father suspicious.”
“Lovely. Can’t wait to see what she comes up with next.”
“You should rest. Do you need help getting to bed?”
I pushed myself to my feet. A little wobbly, but kicking off my shoes helped with that. “No, I can manage. Dimwit, come here.” I flipped the switch to deactivate the drone’s voice. “Get back to work, you.”
“Back to work with what?” Dane asked.
“What do you mean, what? The plan.”
“What does Dimwit have to do with the plan?”
My head was still foggy from the clash of poison and antitoxin, but I could’ve sworn I’d told him. Maybe I’d forgotten. Thinking about it made my head hurt, and I groaned. “Tell you later, when I don’t feel like I’ve been wrestling a harri-harra.”
“All right. And Essie?” he called after me. “No more gifts from Olivia.”
“Agreed.”
Olivia and Father were away in Goodland Province for several days. Reports came through the networks that the queen’s presence alone had eased the plague, and all the victims were recovering. After they finished, they set about inspecting the outland border defenses.
Their absence put Dane and me at a standstill, even after two days of post-poison recovery. Father had left instructions for me to keep busy approving plans to renovate the royal quarters to replace the current suite and other such drudgery. Dane was supposed to review applications for additional guards in the Silver Dagger. We had better things to do, but we were too far from the Candaran fleet to make our move on high-security areas of the palace, we hadn’t made any inroads with the governors, and we’d confirmed we couldn’t get any useful information from the main computer networks.
I needed to move, to do something. Olivia had proved she wasn’t wasting time, so I couldn’t afford to, either. Otherwise, she’d kill me before I could make a difference.
“We have to get out of here,” I said on the thirteenth day. Looking at the floor plans from the royal architect gave me a royal headache. “If we want evidence, we’re going to have to go out and find it. Talk to people or something.”
“I know. But we need your father’s permission to go anywhere, and he won’t be back for three more days.”
“Maybe once he’s back, I can get him to tell me the truth himself. I’ve been playing along. If he thinks I’m going to follow his example, maybe he’ll tell me how things really work around here.”
“Maybe.” It wasn’t hard to see how much Dane didn’t like any idea that meant more time in my father’s company. “What we really need is a contingency plan.”
“Contingency plan for what?”
“The queen.”
I instinctively touched my mother’s locket. I’d been wearing it every day since the ball, as soon as Dane and I verified it hadn’t been tampered with. “Dimwit’s on it.”
“That secret project of his? You never did fill me in.”
I sat next to where the drone stood fiddling with some fabric swatches I’d left out, and flipped the switch to turn its voice back on. “Dimwit, how’s your bumbling going?”
“Dimwit bumble Dimwit.”
“How are people reacting?”
“People smile yell people. Dimwit dumb-drones kick Dimwit.”
It must have run into some of the cleaning drones. “Anyone try to stop you?”
The drone beeped three times. “Dimwit lost Dimwit people help.”
I turned to Dane. “I’ve told it to bumble around the palace whenever we don’t need it for anything else, get people used to seeing it as my unhinged-but-harmless pet.”
His eyes turned suspicious. “Why?”
“So when it wanders into the queen’s wardrobe, anyone who catches it will think it’s just lost as usual.”
“And what’s he going to do in the queen’s wardrobe?”
“Spray everything with thederol.”
He sat in the chair opposite me. “Why? That’ll wash off easily enough.”
“Not from the metalwork on all her shoes and th
e accents on everything else. Thederol binds to metal. And I’ll be carrying this.” I pulled a pressurized cylinder from my pocket. “Do you know what happens when thederol is exposed to varitane gas?”
Dane’s eyes widened. “Essie, if you’re too close when it ignites—”
“That’s why it’s a last resort. Only if she gets me cornered and you’re not around.”
“And why didn’t you tell me about this plan before?”
The sudden accusation in his voice startled me. “I meant to tell you—honestly, I thought I had, but I guess things got so busy with receptions and meetings, then everything that happened at the ball. What does it matter anyway? I’m telling you now.”
“The one part of this that isn’t an act is that my job is to protect you. I watched Tobias take you away. I couldn’t stop him and I didn’t know if I could get you back. But when I did, I swore I’d do everything I could to make sure no one else would hurt you.”
The fire in his eyes was back. So was the knot in my chest. I ignored it. “You can’t stop life from happening. Life is pain.”
“Self-destructive ideas like that are exactly why I need to know everything.”
Everything. The word was too big, sparking a fire of my own that reached too far into the dark corners. Dane had no business in those corners.
“Keeping secrets kept me alive.”
“When the secret involves combustible chemicals, it can get you killed,” he said.
“I didn’t mean to keep it a secret! Besides, I know more about those chemicals than you do. The drones use them all the time in the mines.”
“You know a thing or two about being reckless, too, don’t you?”
I was on my feet without consciously deciding to stand. “Says the boy who kidnapped me.”
Dane flinched but didn’t back down. “Is that it? You still don’t trust me?”
I did. I knew I did, but I was too annoyed to tell him so. “You haven’t exactly made it easy to know what to believe.”
He stood as well, which meant I had to look up. “I think you’re just making excuses.”
“Of course I am. That’s what royals are best at.” I scooped up the slate with the idiotic floor plans and stalked off to my room. “Turn Dimwit’s voice off and send it back to its bumbling.”
“Absolutely, Your Highness.”
Your Highness. The cool metal of my mother’s locket beneath my shirt seemed to pulse a mild rebuke, reminding me exactly how fake the implied superiority was.
The sooner we could get going with this coup, the better.
After days of twiddling my algorithms, Margaret-the-aide told me Father was back. The sharp edge between Dane and me had dulled enough that I was glad he insisted on coming along for my afternoon meeting. Arguing or not, I felt less jittery with him around.
“Snowflake!” Father greeted me when we entered the private chamber behind the throne room. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. These new developments in the war…The Exiles will never let me rest, it seems.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that,” I said. “I’d like to visit the outlands.”
“Out of the question. It’s too dangerous.”
I’d expected that. “I don’t mean the front lines, Father. There must be areas where the militia commanders make decisions, take care of the wounded, and all that. Maybe if I see it for myself, I can think of some way to help.” When he opened his mouth to protest again, I cut him off. “I’m not that delicate. I did survive eight years on Thanda. Besides, military service is among my duties as princess-to-the-crown, isn’t it?”
He hesitated, rapping his fingers on his desk. “It is. Are you certain that’s what you want? You could stay here, arrange more social events.”
“That’s not the kind of princess I want to be. I want to be one that’s of use to you and Windsong and the entire realm. Like you said, learn how to lead someday.”
Another glimmer of pride lit his eyes. “Yes, you always liked to keep busy with something useful. And nothing can replace experience. When you return, we can discuss your thoughts.”
“Return from where?” Olivia had slipped in through one of the secret doors again. I caught a half-second glare at my mother’s locket and took a slow breath to keep my face impassive.
“Snow wishes to visit the outlands, see if she can be of some use.”
Olivia’s glare shifted to Dane. He stood too close, and suspicion lit in her eyes. I shot him a fierce glare of my own. Too fierce, maybe—I saw a flash of surprise before he took a half step back.
“Very dangerous in the outlands,” Olivia said smoothly. “Is that wise? She’s so young.”
“When I was her age, I led a battalion in my father’s defeat of the rebel movement on Garam. And she’s strong. Yes, I think it will do her good. I’ll make arrangements,” he said. “You’ll be able to leave this evening.”
I called to mind the feeling of my first successful upgrade on Whirligig so my smile would be genuine. “Thank you, Father.”
Olivia smiled as well. A very different smile. “Let’s leave your father to coordinate that, Snow. Come walk with me in the garden.”
Any excuse to refuse would look flimsy and weak, so I followed her out to the rose garden, Dane on my heels. Olivia’s own guard from the Midnight Blade followed as well. Once we were on the footpath, decorum demanded the guards drop back out of earshot. I would bet all my Thandan shares that Dane’s hand didn’t move more than a sniff from his best throwing dagger.
“Snow, dear, are you sure this is what you want? The war has made the outlands an unpleasant place.”
“I can handle it.”
She looked sidelong at me. I tried to read her eyes, but all I got was the usual suspicion and distaste. “Can you? Thanda is one thing, and the Ascetics’ home is hardly a war zone.”
No, it wasn’t. And I couldn’t tell Olivia about the mining injuries I’d seen and the fights I’d been in, so I stayed silent.
“Do you know what Exiles are like?”
“I know a bit. And that’s part of why I’m going, to understand the situation better.” I decided to try a little dig. “The kingdom will be mine one day. I need to learn all I can before then.”
“First you must prove you’re fit to lead,” she said sharply.
“I think I might surprise you.”
“I think you’re a lot like your mother.”
“Thank you. Quite the compliment.”
Olivia stepped a little closer. I focused on a bush of delicate tricolor roses to keep from tensing up. “Do you know the one thing that makes us vulnerable to the Exiles?” she asked. “Lack of conviction. And I think you’ll find I don’t suffer from that in the slightest. Without that to prey on, they’re weak.”
Any response I might’ve had caught on her last words. Was she saying she thought I did lack conviction? That I’d never be a proper queen because of it? Or was she hinting she’d known what my mother was?
And what I was?
Getting out of the palace for a while sounded better than ever.
The trip to the outlands meant no heels. That was a positive. The possibility of rooting out some evidence against my father was another. I tried to focus on those. Father insisted on a long route by hover transport to the other side of Windsong, saying both armies used far too much antiaircraft weaponry to risk me in a shuttle. He did let us use the fastest transport available—so it could have been worse—and sent one of his Golden Sword guards to pilot it.
When Dane and I arrived at the transport hub, the guard stood waiting at attention. Then he snapped a salute at me. I just stared until Dane subtly kicked my foot, reminding me to give the most regal nod I could muster.
“Your Highness,” the guard said to me. “Sir,” he added to Dane.
That got Dane to stare. I considered kicking his foot, but decided against it.
“You’re the senior officer of the Silver Dagger,” the guard explained. “That means you outrank me.”
/>
He had to be ten standard years older than either of us, but he didn’t seem to mind being outranked. If anything, he seemed happy to be accompanying us.
“What’s your name?” I asked as we climbed in.
“Theo, Your Highness.”
“Well, Theo, call me Princess if you must, but hearing ‘Your Highness’ endlessly might unhinge me.”
He smiled shyly, turning his attention to the predeparture checklist. “If you say so, Princess.”
I didn’t like hearing Princess that much more, but I could live with it.
We left before dusk, and the journey would take almost a full day. Because we were going to the other side of Windsong, though, it would only be the next morning. We stayed awake as long as we could, preparing for the time adjustment. Dane fell asleep first, convinced enough that Theo wouldn’t try to kill me mid-journey, while I remained fixated on my slate.
The guard glanced over his shoulder before speaking up quietly. “If I may ask, Princess, what is that you’ve been working on?”
“Just a bit of programming. I fiddle with tech when I have the time.”
“Nothing but time on this trip, I suppose. The sun will be back around to us soon, though, so at least you’ll have something to look at besides the inside of this thing.”
I looked at the comfortable seats and sleek control panels, with plenty of room to walk around. “It’s not that bad. I’m not exactly used to palace opulence anymore.”
“Yes, I heard. The Ascetics on Thanda, was it? Tragic that you were kept from your family, of course, but it does sound like you had an interesting time of it.”
“That’s one word for it.”
Theo glanced back again and smiled. “Most things in life are a bit of good with the bad, aren’t they? Just the same, I’m sure we’re all glad you’re back, and helping His Majesty like this, too.”
This man wasn’t what I’d expect of one of my father’s guards. Friendly, open, even kind. Then again, Kip hadn’t been what one would expect of Olivia’s guards, either. But Kip had been my mother’s guard first and had just put on an act for Olivia so he could stay on after Mother’s death.
