Princess at Sea

by Dawn Cook

  “You want me to lie?” she stammered, pulling away and putting a hand to her face. “Why?”

  “Queens do have to lie occasionally,” I said roughly, anxious to be gone. “Otherwise, the world would always be at war.”

  “I know that,” she snapped, meeting my ire with her own. “There’s nothing wrong with a lie when it serves a good purpose and hurts no one, but I’m not going to do it unless I know why.”

  Taken aback—and not sure I was entirely comfortable with her philosophy—I glanced behind her at the surrounding shrubbery. My eyes rose to the familiar walls enclosing the palace, then up and over them to the moon-hazed fog beyond. “I have to find Duncan.”

  Twenty-eight

  Head lowered against the mist, I trudged to the city gate, immune to the joy rising from the spontaneous festival that swirled around me. It was well after sundown, but you wouldn’t know it by the torches and fires that leapt in the very streets as people burned everything from tomorrow’s cooking wood to straw from beds too old to be worth keeping in their celebration of the return of their queen and prince. The fog did nothing to dampen their mood, only serving to reflect the firelight and add a festive glow. Food and spirits were abundant and generously shared, but no one saw me. I felt disconnected, hearing but unable to share their happiness. I had to find Duncan. Until I did, nothing would have any meaning.

  I had to confront him, had to tell him that I wasn’t going to suffer because he didn’t love me, that he had taught me I was stronger than that, that he was a liar and a thief, even if the only thing he stole was my trust. And that he couldn’t hurt me anymore since his love was as worthless as a ladle of salt water.

  Escaping the palace had been easy. I hadn’t even needed to use my magic after I donned my too-short dress and Penelope’s tattered shawl and boots to make the shift from the woman handing out sweets at the palace’s front gate to the rabble taking advantage of the rare treat. My two black horses had come back earlier this afternoon along with one of the useless warships that had accompanied us on our disastrous voyage, and Jy’s shod feet sounded comforting behind me as I led him through the streets.

  A growing rattle and noise pulled me up short where the walk met the street. Jy blew nervously, and I clutched my cloak closer while people scattered. In a reckless swerve and shouting, a heavy coach draped with calling people thundered past, racing an overburdened city pony in a wild abandon. The surrounding people either cheered or cursed them before returning to their revelry. In six heartbeats, it was as if the coach had never existed, the street as full of people as it had been. Heart slowing, I shook myself from my numb mood before it killed me. Jy pushed his nose at me, shoving me almost into the street.

  “Easy, Jy,” I said, holding his head and taking strength from his mist-damp warmth that smelled of hay and leather. Steadying myself, I checked the street to cross, my heart freezing at the faint but familiar sound of bells.

  It was Rylan, clearly angry as he pushed through the noisy throng, his long faded coat covered by an oilcloth cloak and a squarish hat on his head. By his tight pace, it seemed he was looking for Duncan, probably of the mind that the cheat had risked the autonomy of the streets to spend a coin or two of his ill-gained money.

  I took a breath to call attention to him only to collapse back in on myself. My head hurt from indecision. If I spent the effort to catch him, I’d lose my chance to talk to Duncan tonight. By tomorrow, he would be too far to track.

  I sank back against Jy, using him to hide should the man look my way. If Rylan hadn’t found Duncan here, then I was right in my guess that he was past the city’s gates.

  As soon as Rylan was swallowed up by the noisy conglomeration, I swung up onto Jy, ignoring the hoots and ribald remarks of the nearby men with too much to drink in them commenting upon the way I was riding. Face warming, I spun Jy into a tight two-legged turn, giving him my heels and his head. He took it, racing up the street in the wake of the racing coach.

  The enthusiastic cries of the men watching soon faded, leaving me with only a blur of alcohol-reddened faces and yellow glows surrounding open fires. Snatches of music and conversations rose and fell. Familiar buildings came and went. Jy was nimble-footed and clever, showing his warhorse training as he dodged people and carts without direction, eager for the chance to run.

  Crouched low on his back, I leaned into the turn when Jy—his metal-shod hooves clattering on the cobbles—all but slid around the corner and onto the street leading to the eastern gate. It was open ahead of me, with the guards clustered about their warming fire in relaxed talk. I knew I could pass them with minimal effort if I stopped to talk, but I didn’t. The need to find Duncan consumed me, and I raced past the guardhouse and into the night, trailing good-natured salutations and admonishments to slow down or I would break my horse’s leg.

  Free of the thousand voices the city sheltered, I felt my mind expand. The thumps of Jy’s hooves were like my heartbeat. His lungs seemed to breathe for me. I was a spot of stillness atop his back, poised between yesterday and today, unable to live until I spoke with Duncan and settled in my thoughts what scar his betrayal would leave on me.

  He never loved you, the voice in my head mocked, stirred to wakefulness by the wind of my passage. I shoved it down where I couldn’t hear it, but it surfaced again, floating upward like bubbles slipping around my fingers. He never loved you. You’ll never find him. Never find him. Never find him.

  Jy carried me into the more certain dark under the trees, his hooves taking up the litany. I closed my eyes and rode with no direction, the wind laughing in a demented glee. It knew it had me. It was going to drive me insane. I was halfway there, riding my horse at a breakneck speed into the woods on a trail that led to nowhere.

  Frustration tightened my chest, and my jaw clenched. The wind in my thoughts slipped my control, inciting the breeze in the branches to grow. “Then you find him!” I shouted at it, and Jy’s pace faltered.

  My breath caught at the wash of sly contriving the wind met me with. It could. It could find him . . . if I freed it.

  Heart pounding, I sat straighter. Jy felt my weight shift, and we came to a jostling halt under the trees quicker than I would have imagined. The sudden lack of movement sent a rush of sensation through me as the trees and darkness closed in to become real again. The frog song seemed to burst from nowhere. The sound of Jy’s breathing and the soft thumps of his feet as he moved in place were loud. Hidden behind the trees was a hazy spot of white, the only evidence of the moon.

  Holding the reins tight, I sat on the riding pad and stared at the nothing that surrounded me. My lungs took the damp air in as if I were the one who had run here, not Jy, and fear slid its fingers about my heart and squeezed. I had to find Duncan. I was going to free the wind.

  Jy sensed my nervousness and pranced in place. I sent a calming thought into him, reminding him he was a warhorse and to be still. Under me, I felt his body slip into a relaxed wariness. His hooves stilled and his head rose high. His body under me expanded and relaxed as he breathed, his nostrils flaring as he took in the heavy night and became still and unmoving.

  The wind in my head picked up where Jy left off. It cajoled, promising everything, denying nothing. It gibbered in anticipation of its freedom, and I sat with my head bowed and fastened my will about it and squeezed with the passion of my anger.

  It yelped and shattered into a thousand zephyrs that screamed like banshees as they whirled and flew about inside my head, battering me. You, I thought, grasping one with my will. I’ll free you. You will find Duncan and return to me.

  The tiny breath of wind agreed, burying me in giggling promises and false platitudes. I knew it would do as I said, though the sly confidence it coated its flattery with filled me with a black foreboding.

  Yet I released it.

  My hair swirled upward when the zephyr made a wild spiral about me and vanished. Jy started at the sudden gust, and I soothed him. The wind that remained imprisoned in me
called plaintively after it, but the leaves had stilled. It was gone.

  Heart fast, I waited for its return, feeling the heat from Jy rise to warm my fingers buried in the mane about his withers. The spring frogs sang from hidden pools, and the moonlight grew as the clouds thinned. Trapped within me, the wind complained, its attentions not on me for once as it pined after the part of it I had freed.

  A distant rushing came over the frogs. Jy pricked his ears, and I followed his gaze into the dark. Sweat broke on me. It was coming back.

  Though the trees about me stood with a frozen stillness, the soughing of distant branches swelled. Like an animal through grass, it flowed, gaining strength, pushing everything before it into a protesting complaint. The wind in my head heard, renewing its demented delight. I held my breath and my zephyr—now grown into a breeze—crashed onto the path.

  It swirled and danced, taunting me to catch it. It knew! it mocked. It knew, but it wouldn’t tell me!

  My hair swirled up like fall leaves. Angry and afraid, I made a blanket of my thoughts and snared it. Jy pranced and shifted under me, frightened but not enough to bolt. My zephyr howled in protest as I forced its obedience.

  “Where?” I demanded aloud, forcing it smaller until it was a breath roiling about the prison my cupped hands made. “Show me.”

  It whimpered. It cowered. It agreed to everything.

  I cracked my fingers, and a soft breath slipped out. Obedient and cloying, the zephyr played about my face, cooling the sweat of fear on me. It tugged my hair, then danced to Jy’s forelock and tied it into a knot. Jy snorted and shied, and I couldn’t blame the beast.

  “Where . . . ?” I prompted softly, and it zipped away, leaving a rustling path of leaves. Tension filled me, and I nudged Jy into a fast pace. The leaves stilled. I had lost it already. But it came back with a soft encouragement, pushing behind me for an instant before darting off again to make the leaves quake in its wake.

  Easier now, I followed, anxious with the knowledge that I had managed to chain the voice in my head, even if it was only this small whisper. The wind remaining in me had fallen into a soft sulk that part of it was under my control.

  As the moon rose and the clouds thinned further, I followed the sound of pattering leaves through the damp woods. There might have been a trail, but the wind didn’t follow it, going straight through everything. Ducking low over Jy’s withers, I dodged low limbs and snagging vines, finding my way by sound more than sight. Slowly, I grew wet, as the earlier mist brushed and plinked from the leaves onto me. Through small rivulets and crossing ragged outcrops of stone, I followed my zephyr until Jy balked at a thorny impasse.

  The thin cloud cover was almost gone, and the full moon made the spindly saplings into dark slashes against the silver expanse of the briar field. Behind me lay the heavier forest, before me was a large open area. Beyond that, the woods began again, and even farther were the shadows of mountains and a neighbor’s realm. A strip of boulders lay to one side of the field, slumped in a ragged line. The light from the moon glinted wetly on it.

  Here, the zephyr encouraged. He’s here, he’s here, he’s here. The whisper prattled in my ear, setting the wind in my head to echo it until it threatened my balance. Shuddering, I cupped my hand about the zephyr, willing it to be still. It wouldn’t, demanding freedom, racing about my hands with the coldness of winter. My hands began to ache from it, and I finally promised to let it go forever if it would be still and not say anything.

  The breeze battering the insides of my fingers grew warm and soft. Taking that as acquiescence, I opened my hands. My hair shifted and swirled into snarls, then the zephyr was gone.

  Relieved, though the rage from the wind still trapped in me made me feel ill, I slid from Jy. The horse dropped his head, and I held his massive face for a moment to gather my strength. I looked at the briar field with a feeling of weary hopelessness and betrayal. Duncan. He was in there somewhere, hiding among the boulders.

  Leaving Jy to do as he would, I gathered my skirts and started to pick my way through the last of the trees. The clouds were gone to leave a bright ring of blue about the moon. Dampness from the rain rose, sitting heavy in my lungs. My anger at Duncan had fallen to a depressed sadness. I didn’t even know what I was going to do when I found him. But I had to see him, to tell him what he had done was not going to hurt me forever because he wasn’t worth it.

  My wet dress caught, and my hair tangled. I stopped and tediously unhooked every snag and snarl, patently moving forward at a halting but steady pace, my fingers going cold and unresponsive. I was headed for the line of rocks, sure Duncan was among them and using the briars as a way to detect any one approaching. But I was one person using stealth, not several score using knives to hack and break my way to him.

  The numbness was settling deep into me again by the time I found the line of rocks. I scrambled up onto the first, using them as stepping-stones to work my way to the larger boulders. Their shadows were deep enough to hide bears. The zephyr returned, urging me on and earning the disgust of the wind still trapped in my head. It set the tiny leaves of the raspberry canes to tremble beside me, laughing merrily at its freedom.

  A sudden gust pulled my head up, jerking my attention to a soft glow emanating from behind a curved boulder. I suddenly realized the rocks I was walking atop had once been a tower, now fallen to stretch its length across the earth. And in the pit where the tower’s base had been, was a fire.

  My throat tightened. Willing the wind in my head to be still, I crept forward slowly, so I wouldn’t cause a rock to slide and give me away. Breath held, I eased to the edge of the light and peered down.

  Duncan. He hadn’t seen me. Tuck, his horse, had his ears pricked and was watching me. A second horse stood beside Duncan’s gray. By the tidy state of his spring coat, I would guess that it belonged to the palace.

  Tuck put his ears back at me, and I admonished the horse to be still. He sneezed and stamped a forefoot, rebelling against thoughts not his. Duncan didn’t notice. The man was crouched beside his worn pack, his back to me as he dug to the bottom for something. Beside him were a broken bundle of hay and four satchels partially covered by a tarp. He looked calm and relaxed, only the quickness of his motions giving any indication that he had a kingdom’s ransom beside him in the dirt. The sheltering walls of the tower curved almost entirely around him to hide the glow of firelight. It was an excellent spot to hide.

  And an even better place for a murder, the wind in my head whispered, jolting me. Its voice was clear, more clear than my blurring vision.

  He sent me to Rylan to die, I thought, my heart pounding when the wind urged me to act, telling me it was my right to exact revenge. He lied and used me.

  My muscles in my calves tensed. A flush of anger warmed my face. The wind in my head whispered insidiously, He never loved you. He never loved you.

  With no thought of what might happen, I asked my freed zephyr to whisper in Duncan’s ear. The tendril of breeze obediently darted away. The fire leapt, and Duncan started.

  Spinning in a scuffing of boots, he rose. His face was long in shock. His eyes met mine, and his lips parted. Emotions followed each other so quickly I couldn’t read them in the dim light of moon and fire.

  “Tess!” he blurted. “You found me!” Motions quick, he strode forward as if the last three days hadn’t happened. Eagerness radiated from him. “I can’t believe you found me,” he said, his hand extended to help me down from my rock. “Where’s your pack? Oh, this is fantastic! Did you bring a horse?”

  My legs trembled, and my jaw clenched. He thought I was here to run away with him. “Did you hear me call for you?” I said, making no move to take his hand extended to help me from the collapsed wall.

  Duncan rocked to a halt, his hand dropping. A closed look came over him, accented by the shadows on his face from the fire behind him. His silence told me everything. He had heard me call. He had run with the money, leaving Rylan to torture and kill me.

&n
bsp; I watched his eyes as they roved over me, cataloging my lack of weapons. I hadn’t brought my whip. I hadn’t brought my knives. I had no darts, and my curls were tumbled down about my shoulders, lank from the wet of the forest. I didn’t need weapons anymore; I was a weapon. His expression grew soft, placating. He believed I had come defenseless.

  Duncan’s second finger went out to rub his thumb. A surge of anger flooded me when I realized it was his tell for lying, not nervousness as I had thought. “No,” he cajoled, confirming it. “Did you call me? Just now? If I had heard, I would have called back. Did you bring a horse? There’s a narrow path to bring one in from the south if you’re careful.”

  He turned to look behind him as if to show me. The wind came from nowhere, pulled into existence from my fragmented thoughts. It laid the fire low for a moment, following the inside curve of the broken tower to break upon me. It pulled my hair back and whipped my skirts. The chatter in my head surged, falling to an insidious murmur for freedom as the gust flowed past me and into the night. The voice was becoming clearer, telling me that Duncan had lied to me then and was lying to me now.

  Feeling unreal, I jumped to the ground to keep the fire between us. “Did you ever love me?” I said, knowing I looked like a fool but needing to hear him say it.

  Duncan’s eyes were fixed to mine, carefully away from the bags as he lied, “Tess . . . How can you ask that? You know I do.”

  He never loved you! the wind screamed in my head, and a gust from the skies followed it down. It filled me, reminding me of the power of the wind and waves. Let me go, it urged. Let me go, and I’ll free you from the hurt and anger, from choice and decision. Let me go, and I’ll end your pain.

  “You have the ransom money,” I said flatly, wondering what his answer would be.

  He glanced at it, his lips pressing tight as he thought.