Sitnalta shrugged, feigning indifference. “It’s all right. At least I am safe.”
She watched as Ipsinki grabbed some parchment and began writing the first of two notes. She took the time to begin exploring the area. Everything looked exactly as she remembered it, yet nothing felt the same. Najort’s presence was everywhere, in every blade of grass, every rock, every tree, yet not actually seeing him there felt wrong.
Sitnalta took a deep breath and entered the cave. She walked over to where she used to sleep and spotted her old blanket. It was torn and stained from disuse, and she could see where some mice had gnawed on it. She walked on and saw the nook where Najort had made his bed. Kneeling beside it, she ran her hand along the smooth rock. She straightened the blankets and pillows, and looked at it. It looked as if he had merely gone for a walk and was planning on returning at any moment. Sitnalta sighed and lay alongside it. Everything felt as if it was too much for her. All the walls she had built, telling everyone that she was fine, saying it was all right when it really wasn’t. It was too much. Sitnalta felt a wave of grief wash over her, and she gave in to it. She let herself cry, huge wracking sobs, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t care if Ipsinki could hear her. She didn’t care if the world could hear her. She just let go. She cried for the loss of her kingdom, her family once more in Wilhelm’s grasp. She cried for the fact that she could lose Navor before all this was over. She cried because she couldn’t go home. But most of all, she cried for Najort.
Sitnalta opened her raw, red eyes and rolled over to see Ipsinki sitting across from her, a concerned look on his face.
“I’m okay,” she said, her voice was hoarse.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Please be honest with me. We don’t have to stay here.”
She nodded and went to stand. He reached out his hand to help her up.
“I’m telling the truth,” Sitnalta said. “I just found it all a bit overwhelming. Believe me. It’s actually a bit nice to see all his things still here.”
“If you’re certain,” Ipsinki said. He was worried about her, but didn’t want to push her too far.
“I am,” she assured him. She looked around and had an idea. She turned back to him and gave him a smile. “Do you want to see a good place to hide?”
Ipsinki smiled back at her. “Of course.”
Sitnalta led him to a spot in the back of the cave. The boulder that had once hid a secret cavern had been pushed aside. Sitnalta gave an involuntary shiver as she remembered how she had once hid here from King Supmylo as he hunted for her. She turned and saw Ipsinki watching her.
“In here,” she said, and led the way past the boulder into the small cavern.
The pedestal that had once held Kralc’s coin still stood in the centre of the floor. She approached it and placed her hand on top, thinking about how the coin had felt as she had held it. The power and unlimited possibility it had promised had seemed like the solution to all of her problems. There had been a time when she would have used it to change everything and wish back a mother she had never known. Now, all she wanted was for things to go back to the way they were.
Ipsinki stepped forward and placed his hand on top of hers. “What was here?”
Sitnalta looked into his eyes, wondering how much she should tell him, and settled on the truth. “It was a coin,” she explained. “A wizard had given Najort a magical coin to guard. He was told that it had the power to grant wishes. Najort used it the night he died. He wished that I would find my happiness.” She smiled wistfully, thinking of her life with Aud and Gerald. “For a while, I had that.”
“And then Wilhelm came,” Ipsinki said.
“Yes,” Sitnalta agreed. “Then Wilhelm came. But I think there’s more to it.”
Ipsinki narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Sitnalta looked at him earnestly. “Do you remember how he came to power? I asked Gerald and King Parven and they couldn’t. Not really. They just knew that he did. One day Gerald was King. The next, it was Wilhelm. They gave me some vague story about a struggle. They said there was fighting. But there was no real detail to it. It was like they were telling me a story. It wasn’t at all like they had actually lived through it.”
Ipsinki felt a surge of hope as he realized what Sitnalta was telling him. “You think Wilhelm got the coin. You think he wished himself to be the King.”
Sitnalta grinned as Ipsinki put the pieces together. “Exactly. Do you know where he came from? Who was he before he was King?”
Ipsinki thought it over. Where there should have been some sort of knowledge there was a black hole. “It’s weird,” he said. “I don’t know. I can’t even tell you what kingdom he came from.”
“I think that’s the magic,” Sitnalta told him. “I’m not really sure what he wished for. I mean, if he just wished to be King, would it really matter where he came from? I think the coin found a way to make things vague. When I spoke to the wizard, Kralc, he said that the coin focuses the intentions of the one making the wish. Like when Najort wished me my happiness. He didn’t wish for anything that would alter anyone else’s life.” She didn’t want to get into the situation with Navor, and opted to leave it at that. “All he wanted was for me to be happy.”
Ipsinki frowned. He didn’t believe it was as simple as that. “But how is it that you realized what had happened?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you have been as persuaded as everyone else that Wilhelm should be King?”
“Navor and I spoke with the wizard who originally created the coin. He thinks that since Wilhelm’s wish would overwrite Najort’s, I retained my original memories. You see, when I was originally taken to King Parven’s castle, I remember it being a holiday for me. I was supposed to be going to visit. There was no Wilhelm. There was no secrecy, or Gerald being captured. None of that happened.”
Ipsinki turned and began to pace. “Okay,” he said. “Assuming you’re right about all of this, what do we do? If this coin is responsible, is there a way to fix things?”
“I spoke to the wizard, Kralc, about that, too,” Sitnalta said. “He said he would try to retrieve the coin. From there, he is either going to destroy it, or find some other way to reverse Wilhelm’s wish.”
Ipsinki scowled. “I have to admit it,” he said. “I don’t like this.”
“Why not?”
“It puts too much in someone else’s hands. I don’t like feeling helpless.” He put his hands up as Sitnalta opened her mouth to protest. “I’m sorry, but it makes me feel as if I’m sitting around waiting for somebody else to fix things for me,” he explained. “I like taking charge of my own fate.”
Sitnalta sighed. “I know what you mean. But unless you have a better idea, I don’t see what choice we have.”
“We continue on as if this wizard of yours is doing nothing,” Ipsinki said.
“What do you mean?” Sitnalta asked. Her brows were knitted together in confusion.
“I mean to say that there’s no guarantee that Kralc will even get the coin. I intend to continue to oppose Wilhelm and get the kingdom for Gerald with or without his help or interference. If Kralc fails, then I will not be behind in my plans. If he succeeds, then my job will have gotten a whole lot easier.”
Sitnalta smiled at him. “I like that idea: two people working two very different angles towards the same goal. And you know what?”
“What?”
“You both have me on your side. What can I do to help?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Prince
The Prince’s ship docked in Colonodona. Navor stood on deck, unsure of what to expect. He was half afraid that Wilhelm’s forces would be waiting to apprehend them and drag them off to his dungeons. Looking at Josiah as he stood on deck, one hand on the pommel of his sword, Navor could see that his captain felt the same way.
Josiah and Navor watched as the ship was tied off, and the gangplank lowered to the ground below. No soldiers came, and no on
e tried to stop them as they disembarked and began to walk the streets. The Prince had gotten a note from Ipsinki telling him that the rescue had been only partially successful, and that he and the Princess were safe for the time being. The news had cheered Navor, but he knew that his work was only beginning. He had yet to retrieve Gerald and Aud from Wilhelm’s clutches. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. A young girl darted out from the crowd and tugged on his hand.
“Hello,” Navor said, crouching down so he could look her in the eye.
“I have something for you,” the girl whispered. She reached up to push her hair out of her eyes, and as she did, she pressed a note into Navor’s hand.
Navor looked down at the crumpled bit of parchment, and when he looked back to thank the girl, she had disappeared into the crowd. He looked around to find her, but she was long gone. Navor quickly scanned the note and grimaced. Ipsinki had Sitnalta safely stowed away. The Prince had already been told that she had been rescued from the ship, but now he knew that she was secure. The Duke hadn’t written that Navor should be joining them, but Navor felt with every fibre of his being that he should be with the Princess. He caught Josiah’s eye and nodded. It was time for him to go home.
Navor rode, leading his men through the crowds, away from the roads until they were riding through the trees. None of them questioned how their Prince knew the way. Josiah had seen the note. There had been no directions on it. Navor rode on instinct. He wasn’t thinking about where he was going, but somehow his body knew exactly where he needed to be. He rode on, not wanting to dwell on where it was he was headed. A big part of him dreaded seeing the cave. He was apprehensive as to what it would be like being there, the feelings it would dredge up, and what would happen to him upon seeing what was left of that place.
Josiah watched the Prince ride. He could see that there was something serious on the young man’s mind, but he hesitated asking. Sometimes private matters were best left private. He just hoped that whatever it was that was making the Prince so pensive didn’t interfere with all they had to do. He didn’t want to be getting into anything that might get his men killed. He hated secrets being kept by those higher up than he, yet knew that this was often part and parcel with the job he had to do.
Josiah rode up beside Navor. “Do you know how much further we’re going?” he asked.
“Not much,” Navor tersely replied. He turned to regard the captain. “Are you certain we weren’t followed?”
Josiah nodded. “Am I right to assume we’re going to where Ipsinki is keeping Sitnalta?”
“We are,” Navor said. He thought about how he should explain. “Ipsinki wrote that he’s keeping her safe where she was safe before.”
“And you know where that is.”
“I do.”
Josiah thought this through. As an explanation, it would suffice. He knew there was more to it than that, but he thought it best to leave it alone.
Navor led the way through the last few rows of trees and broke through the clearing. He dismounted his horse and looked around. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the others do the same. He stepped forward and felt a wave of déjà vu wash over him as he approached the cave. Everything was exactly as he knew it would be. He went to enter the cave, his heart hammering in his chest. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. As he walked, he heard a voice shout his name. Sitnalta ran towards him, throwing her arms around his neck.
“You’re here!” she cried out. “I can’t believe you’re really here. I was so scared that I would never see you again. When we were on the boat, I was so afraid. But you’re here, and together we will get Aud and Gerald back. I know it. With you and Ipsinki here, I feel as if we can achieve anything. You two give me hope.”
Navor pulled away and looked her over. She seemed whole and happy. Seeing her like that made him feel like everything truly would be okay. He smiled back at her and tried to mean it.
Sitnalta could see that Navor was not acting like himself. He seemed overwhelmed. “Are you okay?”
Navor nodded. “I will be,” he said. “It’s just...” He gestured to the clearing, the cave, and the people around them.
Sitnalta’s eyes went wide. “Oh,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.” She looked down at her feet, feeling uncomfortable. “It’s so strange being here like this. Isn’t it?”
“It is,” Navor admitted. “It’s like I’m home. But I’m not really. I don’t really know how to explain it. But strange is a good word for it.”
Ipsinki watched the two talking from his place among Parven’s men. He had been telling them all about the situation in Colonodona: who among Wilhelm’s men were truly loyal to the new king, who was secretly working with him to overthrow him, and who in town was actively resisting his rule. He stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Ipsinki said. “I don’t mean to interrupt. We need to make plans. One of my men is coming here this evening with an update on what’s happening at the castle. Since that is where Aud and Gerald were likely taken, we need to have an idea on the best ways to get them free.”
“Thank you Ipsinki,” Navor said. “I can’t tell you how much your friendship means to us, especially now.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Ipsinki said. “After all, I owe Sitnalta my life.”
Sitnalta smiled at him, thinking about how she had stopped his execution at her father, Supmylo’s, hand. “I only did what anyone would have in that situation.”
“You sell yourself short, my Princess,” Ipsinki told her. “You are remarkable. Never forget that.”
Sitnalta felt the heat rush to her cheeks as she blushed at his compliment. She still felt that she acted the way any kind and humane person would act, but she didn’t argue with him. “Thank you,” she said in a voice barely loud enough for him to hear.
“I’m going to start getting some food ready,” Ipsinki said. He could tell that Sitnalta wasn’t comfortable taking his compliments. “When was the last time you had a proper meal?”
Sitnalta thought hard about his question. She remembered the breakfast she had eaten in King Parven’s castle the day she had been abducted. When had that been?
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “It’s been days. The last time I had a real meal was the day Wilhelm’s men took me away.”
Ipsinki nodded. “Well I intend to rectify this,” he promised her. He turned and went to go prepare a fire, and see what supplies Navor had brought with his men. “You go and rest,” he told her over his shoulder. “We will all need to be at our best.”
Sitnalta mouthed a thank you at him, and she turned back to the cave. “Are you coming with me?” she asked Navor.
He hesitated a moment before following her into the cave. His eyes needed a moment to adjust after being in the sunlit clearing, yet he didn’t slow his gait. He knew where everything was, where to step, where he should be sitting. As he settled down onto a large boulder that he remembered as his favourite chair, he looked up at Sitnalta with a questioning gaze.
“I already went to see where the coin used to be,” she said. “It was so strange to see the chamber empty.”
“That’s not what I wanted to know,” he said. “I was going to ask you if this was as strange for you as it is for me.”
“I imagine it’s infinitely stranger for you. This was only my home for a short while. For you, it was much longer.” She went and sat down on the cave floor at his feet. “Are you all right? I can’t possibly understand how hard this is for you.”
Navor looked around. He felt the strong pull of the space. He felt it deep in his bones. Yet, it was an oddly comforting feeling. There was nothing sad about it, or painful. It was as if his homecoming reinforced what he already knew. He was both troll and Prince. He was Najort and Navor all at the same time, but his place was now at home with his family. He was the son of King Parven and Queen Kika.
“I am fine,” he said. When Sitnalta gave him a disbeli
eving look, he laughed. “I don’t know how to explain, but I am truly all right. I dreaded seeing this place when I learned where you were, yet being here, I feel at peace. This is the first time I can truly say that since we figured out who I am.”
“I’m glad of it,” Sitnalta told him. “I was so worried.”
“You shouldn’t be,” Navor assured her. “I am stronger than you think.”
“Funny,” Sitnalta said. “I feel that I spend half my time saying those very words to everyone I meet.”
“Shall we take Ipsinki’s advice and actually get some rest?” Navor asked.
“We can try,” Sitnalta answered.
They rose and Sitnalta walked over to her old sleeping area. She sat and Navor bent and placed a kiss on the top of her head.
“Sleep well, my Princess,” he said, as she lay down.
“Sleep well, my Prince,” she responded, as she watched Prince Navor walk over to where Najort once slept. She hesitated a brief moment before calling him back to her.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Stay with me,” she said, holding her arms out to him.
Navor looked at his men settling in for the night and then back at the Princess. Propriety be damned. He settled in with her, holding her tight in his arms, letting her warmth and the beating of her heart lull him into sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Edicts
Wilhelm stood fuming before Frederic. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt so angered and frustrated. It wasn’t like the jailbreak. This time, it was much worse.
“So, you’re telling me that the Princess simply vanished into thin air?” he asked. He kept his voice level, but his hands were clenched into fists so tight that he could feel his fingernails breaking the skin of the palms of his hands. “How could this have happened?”
“I do not know, my King,” Frederic replied. He was sweating, though he tried to show no fear. He could feel that his tunic was completely soaked through beneath his breastplate. He knew that he had made the right decision when he had let Sitnalta go, but that didn’t stop the creeping feeling of dread from taking over his body as he spoke to his King.
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