The Kingdom Thief (Sitnalta Series Book 2)

by Alisse Lee Goldenberg

Jess nodded and threw them at her. She caught them and ran back to Gerald. She undid the chains at his wrists and went to make short work on Frederic’s and Aud’s.

  “We need to go,” Sitnalta said.

  “Thank you,” Aud said, pulling her Princess into a quick embrace.

  Sitnalta pulled away with a grin, and led them to the stairs. She let them run down to freedom and went to follow, only to be stopped by a furious Wilhelm. He stood in front of them, his sword stained red.

  “You,” he growled. “I should have known you would come with your ragtag band of soldiers and rebels. This will not work. Not today.”

  Sitnalta reflexively shrank back as he advanced on her. She took a deep breath and held her dagger in front of her as if it was a talisman of protection. “I won’t let you hurt my family.”

  Wilhelm laughed. “My captain is a part of your pathetic little family?”

  Sitnalta looked at him defiantly. “He is now.”

  From his position in the crowd, Navor looked up at the gallows and saw Wilhelm advance menacingly towards Sitnalta. He felt horror at the situation. He swung his sword at the man he was fighting, desperate to get to the Princess. The soldier swung back, his blade biting into Navor’s arm. The Prince grunted in pain, and fought back, harder. He swore under his breath, knowing that his distraction had cost him. He focused on the man in front of him, fighting with all he had. He managed to disarm his foe, and using the pommel of his sword, dealt a blow to the man’s head, knocking him senseless. He barrelled forward, up the stairs until the tip of his sword was touching the back of Wilhelm’s neck.

  “Drop your sword,” Navor said. His voice was low and dangerous.

  “Or what?” Wilhelm said.

  “Or you die,” Navor vowed.

  “I highly doubt that.” Wilhelm whirled around, catching the Prince off guard and knocked his sword out of his hand. He looked Navor up and down. “You must be Parven’s brat,” he said with a laugh. He advanced on him, his sword ready.

  Sitnalta watched, her eyes wide with fear. Seeing Wilhelm threatening Navor with his sword took her back to that night in the forest when Supmylo had run Najort through.

  “No,” Sitnalta said quietly. “Not again.” She ran forward before anyone could stop her and leapt onto Wilhelm’s back, stabbing downward with her dagger. She felt it bounce off of his armour before finding purchase in the King’s shoulder.

  Wilhelm screamed in anger and pain at the Princess’s attack. He dropped his sword in shock and reached up and clawed at her, trying to detach her from his back. She clung on, knowing that if she let go, she couldn’t possibly fight him off.

  Navor saw it all happen, and grabbed his sword from the ground. He looked for a way to try and help Sitnalta without hurting her. He locked eyes with Aud and Gerald, standing in fear behind the King. They seemed to be at as much a loss as he. He turned to the fighting below in the square, hoping there might be someone who could help him. He saw a figure striding through the crowd toward them. He moved unimpeded through the crowd. His cowl was pulled low over his face, and he moved with authority. Navor felt both drawn to and repelled by the stranger. He didn’t know if he was friend or foe. The stranger approached the gallows and leapt up with ease. He grabbed onto Sitnalta’s arm.

  “You’re coming with me, Princess,” he said, and vanished with her.

  Navor stood, staring in shock. He heard both Aud and Gerald cry out as the Princess disappeared. Wilhelm growled in anger and grabbed for his sword. Navor blocked him with his own and quickly kicked the King’s blade away. Wilhelm swung out with his hand, punching the Prince in the face with all he had. Navor staggered back and fell backwards down the stairs, landing in a tangled heap on the ground. He looked up and saw Ipsinki running towards him and up the stairs as Wilhelm fled the square. The last thing he remembered as the world went dark was Josiah coming forward to grab him and try to lead him to safety.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Kralc

  Navor came to in the cave. He winced as he opened his eyes. It was clear to him that if he'd had access to a mirror, he would see that he was bruised in multiple places. He rolled to his side and saw Aud watching him. He tried to smile, and let out a groan.

  “I'm glad you're awake,” Aud said to him. “We were getting worried.”

  “I'll be alright,” Navor mumbled. “Where's Sitnalta?”

  Aud frowned. “We still don't know.”

  Navor could hear the pain in her voice. He remembered the man grabbing her, and felt a sick sense of fear spread throughout his body. “We have to find her,” he said, pushing himself to his feet.

  “I agree,” Aud replied. “But the question is how?”

  * * *

  Sitnalta looked around. She could see that wherever she was, she was indoors. The room had a grey stone floor, grey stone walls, and a high ceiling, so far up she could not see it. The space was round, with gently curving walls forming a perfect circle. There were two windows, and the Princess ran over, trying to see where she was. All she saw as she leaned out the window was how high above the ground she was. She could see the tops of trees, and the tall peak of a mountain far off in the distance. She had no idea as to where she was, for though she knew the forest well, she knew it from the ground. For all she knew, she wasn't even in Colonodona anymore.

  The sound of footsteps caught Sitnalta by surprise and she whirled around to see who was entering the room. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw Kralc approach her. He looked exactly the same as the last time she saw him, his very presence exuding power.

  “Where am I?” Sitnalta demanded. “Why have you brought me here?”

  “You are in my tower,” Kralc replied. “I brought you here because I need your help.”

  “My help?” She blinked up at him in confusion. “What could I possibly help you with?” She scuffed the toe of her shoe along the floor. “In fact, I don't think I've been much of a help to anybody.”

  “Feeling sorry for yourself is a very unattractive quality for a young lady to have,” Kralc snorted. “Yes. I do need your help. It is of utmost importance that you give it to me. I have located my coin. Wilhelm has been keeping it in the castle. However, he has somehow devised a way to keep me from getting it. I have a theory that he has protected it only from those who possess magic. You do not possess any magic at all. Therefore, you should be able to obtain it for me.”

  Sitnalta stared at the wizard for a moment. She was having trouble figuring out whether or not he was being insulting when he mentioned that she had no magic. There was something in his tone that made her feel that he was.

  “I know that I can get us past the guards, and I know I can get us to the room where he keeps it. All I require is for you to get it from the room and into my hands.”

  Sitnalta bit her lip. “I think I can do that,” she slowly responded. “But what are you going to do with it once I give it to you?”

  “What do you mean?” Kralc asked.

  “You told me that if you destroyed it, things would go back to the way it was before these wishes were made.”

  “This is true,” Kralc said with a nod.

  “That means that Navor will never have existed. And if that happens, then he is gone, like Najort. I can't accept that being a possibility.”

  Kralc pressed his lips together into a hard thin line. He walked over to the window and peered out over the forest. He thought about the Princess's words, and turned back to her. “You have my word,” he said. “I will not destroy the coin.”

  “Thank you,” Sitnalta said. She felt as if a large weight had been lifted from her shoulders. All of a sudden it became easier to breathe again. “Then I will help you,” she vowed.

  “Good. Now let's get you dressed.”

  “What do you mean?” Sitnalta asked. She looked down at her dress. “What's wrong with this?”

  Kralc laughed. “As...colourful as your outfit might be, it will not do
for traipsing around Wilhelm's castle.”

  “My castle,” Sitnalta said with venom in her voice. She felt a bit of shock that she felt so strongly about it.

  “Quite right,” Kralc replied. “And we will get it back for you. As for the clothes, I have a dress that would suit. I will, of course, be using magic to alter the colour of your hair. I will also get us past the guards, and get us back to the castle.”

  “Okay,” Sitnalta said.

  Kralc gestured to a nearby table. “Your dress is there. I will leave to give you some privacy. But first...” He walked over to her and smoothed his hands over her hair, bringing them forward and across her face. “That will do.” He looked at her critically, appearing to be almost relieved that she looked different than she had moments before.

  Sitnalta watched him leave, waiting until he closed the door before heading over to the table. She pulled her dress off and folded it up before placing it on the table. She shook out the dress that Kralc had left her before slipping it on over her head. She noticed an apron still lying on the table and tied it tight around her waist. She smoothed her hands down over the fabric and saw a full-length mirror standing in a gilded frame across the room. She approached and took in her reflection. She felt a pang of sadness as she saw that her blue hair was gone. Instead, her hair now fell in mahogany waves down her back. He had increased her hair’s length, as well as changed the colour. Her eyes were now a dark green, and her complexion held a ruddiness that hadn't been there before. She felt as if she was staring at a stranger, and the feeling unnerved her.

  “Are you ready?”

  Sitnalta whirled around as she heard Kralc calling her from behind the door.

  “I am,” she called back.

  Kralc pulled the door open and entered the room. “Good. Now let's get going.”

  “Now?” Sitnalta asked incredulously. “But how? What's the plan? Who am I pretending to be?” She felt as if she was a complete bundle of nerves. She didn't like not having a plan, a story telling her what to do, how to be.

  Kralc looked at her in annoyance. “The plan is that we go in together. You follow me exactly. You say nothing. You enter the room. You get the coin. We leave and come back here.”

  “Okay,” she responded uncertainly. The simplicity of the plan terrified her.

  “Are you ready?” the wizard asked.

  “No,” Sitnalta answered. She took a breath. “Yes,” she amended.

  “Good.”

  Kralc grabbed her hands and she felt the ground drop out from under her, and the walls fall away. She felt as if she were riding a cyclone. She kept her eyes tightly shut, too afraid to open them and see where she was. Then almost as soon as the feeling started, it was over and she felt the hard ground beneath her feet once more. She opened her eyes to find herself staring at the front gate of the castle. She was home.

  She looked around, re-familiarizing herself with the space. Even though everything looked just as she remembered it, it felt all wrong. The men guarding the gate seemed far more menacing than the guards that Gerald had appointed. They always had a smile for those who passed; a genial comment and a friendly wave. They could tell the difference between a friend and a threat in an instant and go from comrade to soldier the second it was noticed. Yet, these men seemed to assume everyone meant the King harm. Sitnalta suppressed a shudder as she walked past on Kralc’s arm. To her surprise, the guards at the gate didn’t seem to give either of them any notice.

  “I have already been this way,” Kralc said. “They know not to notice me. Consider it glamour: a form of magic. You look as if you belong. To them, you are no more than a scullery maid: someone unworthy of their attention.”

  Sitnalta bristled at the comment. “Everyone is worthy of attention,” she said. She turned to him. “Why couldn’t you have just zapped us directly to where the coin is?”

  Kralc looked at her in annoyance. “I cannot just ‘zap’ us to the coin, as it is protected by magic,” he tersely replied.

  “But what about to the door of the study?” Sitnalta pressed.

  “And if someone were to be in the hallway and see us?”

  “Oh,” Sitnalta replied, looking chagrined.

  “Now stop asking such stupid questions,” Kralc snapped.

  “I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I’m on edge right now.”

  “We all are,” Kralc said. His attitude seemed to soften. He looked down at the Princess. Seeing her so nervous reinforced how young she truly was. He regretted all the pain that was being caused to her by his creation. He further regretted the pain that was sure to come.

  They walked on in silence. Sitnalta unconsciously tensed up each time someone passed her way. Yet all that happened was the incline of a head in her direction, or a muttered greeting. She returned each in kind, and kept on her way. Kralc whispered that they were headed towards the King’s study, and Sitnalta knew her way around the castle, so he allowed her to lead him along the quickest route she knew. Though he had been there previously, she knew all the short cuts to cut down on their time there as much as possible.

  Soon she was standing in front of the door to the King’s study. She hesitantly reached out and took the handle in her hand. Her palms were sweaty from nervousness, and she could feel goose pimples standing up all over her body.

  “You’re sure it’s in here?” she asked in a whisper.

  Kralc reached out his hands and closed his eyes. “It is,” he said. “All I need is for you to go in and get it. From there, we will take it back to my tower and do what we must.”

  Sitnalta nodded and took a deep breath. The handle pushed down with a click, and the door swung open. She stepped inside, and her eyes widened as she found herself face to face with King Wilhelm. He looked at her, a mixture of confusion and anger in his green eyes.

  Sitnalta found herself rooted to the spot, a twinge of pride sweeping through her as she saw his arm in a sling. The feeling was quickly replaced by fear as she realized the severity of her situation. She didn’t know whether or not to turn and run, or stand her ground. She did the only thing she could think of and dropped down into a clumsy curtsey, praying her disguise would pass muster.

  “What do you want?” Wilhelm snarled.

  “I’m sorry, Sire,” Sitnalta squeaked. “I...er...I was sent here to tidy up. No one told me you would be here.”

  “This castle’s staff is made up of imbeciles,” Wilhelm growled. He looked Sitnalta over, seeing nothing but a trembling peasant. “I had told everyone to leave me alone. Get out!”

  Sitnalta trembled, looking around the room. “I’m sorry, Sire,” she said. “I was just told that I had to do this now. I swear that I won’t be in your way. May I just do a little?”

  Wilhelm looked her over. She was young and lithe. Watching her may be just the distraction he needed to get over his foul mood. He licked his lips as he leered at her. “Clean. Just stay out of my way.”

  “Yes, Sire,” Sitnalta said. She pulled a rag from the pocket of her apron, feeling a moment of surprise that it was there. She went to the nearest collection of shelves and began rearranging the books into a more sensible order, dusting the spines, and cleaning each shelf as she went. She didn’t know how to search for the coin while Wilhelm was watching, but she turned and saw that the King had turned his attention back to the reams of parchment on his desk.

  Sitnalta allowed herself a moment to regard Wilhelm. He was not a bad looking man, but his features were distorted with such anger. She knew that she was a large part of why he felt as he did. She just wished she knew why he felt that way to begin with. She sighed and went back to work. She figured that as long as he was focused on his work, she could be more thorough, if she was quiet about it. She looked around the room. She knew that he would never have hidden the coin among the cushions of the chairs, or any such nonsense, so that left the shelves, the desk, and the fireplace. She could never check the desk as long as he was seated th
ere, so she focused her search on the shelves in front of her. As she looked, she cleaned, knowing that she should at least appear to be doing her job if he looked up from his work.

  Each shelf yielded no results. Books were moved, statues were polished, and the wood itself was poked and prodded. She slowly made her way closer to the King. Soon, she was standing directly behind him, still cleaning, still searching. Her body thrummed with fear and excitement. She knew that every second she spent in his presence was a second closer to being discovered. She tried to work as quickly and as efficiently as possible. Every frustrated grunt and angry mutter that Wilhelm made caused her to jump. Her hands trembled as she replaced the last book, and polished the last statue. Her heart sunk. The shelves had yielded nothing. She eyed the desk, hoping against hope that the coin was not there.

  She tried in vain to come up with some plan to get him to move. She considered yelling “Fire!” and seeing if he would run out the door. She thought of telling him it was teatime and that he should go to get some refreshment. She briefly thought of hypnosis. But she knew that each and every idea was silly and would never work. Just as she began to despair, she saw the glint of gold on the old fireplace in the study. She frowned. As long as she could remember, the fireplace hearth had always been a carved grey stone. It was plain and austere in look. Supmylo had always declared it “fit for a man in power.” She had always thought it ugly. She knew that Gerald had merely called it “serviceable” and never saw fit to change it. Yet there it was, gilded from head to toe. It seemed tacky and garish. Very much out of place in the room filled with mahogany wood. She marvelled how she had never noticed the change. She glanced at the King and saw him engrossed in his work. She crept closer and under the pretence of polishing the gilded stone, she set to work examining the hearth.

  “What are you doing?”

  The sound of the King’s voice caused the Princess to nearly jump out of her skin. She whirled around, her heart pounding.

  “I’m s...s...sorry, Sire,” she stammered. “I merely noticed that there was soot on the hearth. I wanted to clean it up for you. I...i...it would not do for a King as mighty as you to work in a room filled with filth.” She lowered her head and peered up at him through her lashes. She hoped he had not seen through her ruse.