by Katy Haye
I’d take his word for that. I gritted my teeth and brought my left foot up to match. I was now high enough that it was a simple matter to boost myself onto the top of the wall. Then I looked down the other side where the ground vanished into darkness. “I’m here,” I called softly to Lyo. “But now I’m stuck.”
There was no reply to that, just a shuffling sound, and a grunt, and then Lyo was on the top of the wall with me, having run up the side of the stones again. “You’re not stuck. I’ll get you down.”
His teeth flashed in a smile and then he dropped off the far side. If I tried the same I’d probably break a few limbs, but Lyo – of course – managed perfectly.
“Jump. I’ll catch you.”
I opened my mouth, but the words, I can’t, froze before I could speak them. I didn’t have a choice. And I didn’t want Lyo to think me feeble. “Make sure you do,” I said, instead of speaking my fears aloud. I screwed my eyes closed, took a breath and launched myself into nothing.
“Oof!” Lyo’s arms went tight around me. He set me gently on my feet.
I sucked in a deep, welcome breath. My heart was beating so hard I could barely speak. He was so close I could see the flecks of gold and black in his eyes. “Why do you need me to get you inside the palace?” I asked, clearing my throat to let the words out. “You don’t seem like you need any help.”
“I can get in. But I don’t know where I’m going once I’m inside.”
I nodded, my heart turning over again at the idea of helping a foreign criminal into my home. I hoped my instincts that I could trust him were correct. “Come on, I’ll show you how I get in and out.”
Ordinarily, a couple of logs of different heights were set against the damaged wall on this side, steps to make the height scalable. They had been removed. Spotted and collected by the guards, I didn’t doubt. At least they hadn’t seen the alternative. “It’s not hard to get up this wall.” I pointed. “Do you see the spike at the top of the wall there?”
Lyo squinted, then nodded when he saw it.
“It’s strong enough for the weight of a rope ladder.” I unwound the sash from my waist. “Or just a piece of rope would be enough for you, I’m sure.” I flung my sash at the spike, snagging it around the metal on my third try.
“Or I could just run up it,” Lyo said.
I tugged on the ends. “Or that.” Satisfied that the rope was steady, I wrapped it around my wrists and started upwards, crawling like some kind of arthritic insect in contrast to the ease Lyo had displayed a moment earlier. But at least I didn’t need help. I could do this all on my own. Triumph lifted my heart.
“You’d make a half-decent acrobat,” Lyo said admiringly.
“I don’t think so.” When I reached the top, I unwound my sash and wrapped it back around my waist. I sat on the top of the wall, so I could still talk to Lyo. He gave a small jump so he could see over the top, elbows propped on the broken-down edge of the wall. “On this side, the wall’s tumbled down. You can just climb down the rubble, and the broken wall is hidden by overgrown rohannan bushes.”
Lyo nodded. “Which window leads to the king’s strongroom?”
“What is it you need to find?”
My final attempt to get him to confide in me failed as dismally as all the others. “Nothing you need to know about,” he promised.
I sighed and fulfilled my side of the bargain. “Everything precious is held in his living rooms, although some of it is in strongboxes.”
“I can deal with them. Which window?”
His face was still and serious as he committed my description to memory, asking more questions about the guards. Some of my anxiety frittered away when he only wanted to know about that one place. Lyo did indeed seem to have nothing worse than theft on his mind.
“You won’t try tonight, will you?” I finished. “If they’ve found the dragonette missing the palace will be crawling with guards.”
“No. I need to show my face to the ones who stopped us, or they’ll wonder where I’ve got to.”
My heart clenched. I hoped they’d let him through without any nasty comments. Or anything worse than words. “Stay safe.”
“Always do.”
I watched him walk away until I realised what I was doing and chided myself for foolishness. I sincerely hoped I’d never see Lyo again. He’d taken the dragonette and given me a kiss. That was fair exchange and I needed nothing more. I wasn’t brave enough to throw away all I had, but I knew I’d cherish tonight and the man who’d made me feel properly alive for once in my life.
I ducked through the rohannan branches and down to the lawn to assess how much trouble I was in.
Lyo – You can’t Trust a Muirlander
Lyo was whistling as Scopgot Lane came into sight, the dull buildings turned golden by the rising sun. When he realised he was whistling he stopped. No point shouting about the fact that he was happy, not when there were plenty of people who would look sidelong at a Surrana who appeared happier than the Muirlanders thought he had a right to be. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself; some thief he’d make if that happened.
He didn’t need to advertise the fact, but he was happy. He had a way into the palace without alerting the guards.
Lyo pushed away the thought that it wasn’t knowing which window of the palace he should be aiming for that had improved his mood. He could still remember the feel of Relle in his arms, the taste of her on his tongue. His mood soured. He’d found a stray, and he had no intention of trying to keep her.
A Muirland witch was of no concern to him. She’d done what he’d asked and shown him how to get into the palace. He had no other use for her.
None at all. Besides which, he’d be gone from Muirland as soon as he had what he needed.
He scowled and picked up his pace.
They rented the second floor over a jeweller’s shop, reached by steps that climbed up the outside of the building from the rear alley, chosen particularly so they could come and go without being seen by neighbours. The jeweller lived in the shop, too paranoid about theft to worry about his tenants’ comings and goings. It was as much privacy as they could hope for.
When he opened the door, Pell was sitting by the window, watching the street below while he sharpened his dagger on a whetstone in his lap. He met Lyo’s eye and nodded a greeting.
“At last!” Kiri was sitting by the fire. He thought she’d been napping. She had the distinct appearance of someone struggling into the day as she pushed a cushion behind her and sat up straighter. “It’s dawn. I was about to send Pell to find you.”
“And good morning to you, too, Kiri.”
Her expression darkened as though cast into shade by his bright mood. “Did you get it?” Her eyes darted over him, but he was clearly empty-handed.
“They’d discovered tonight’s theft. I’ll go back tomorrow when it’s safer.”
“How do you know she won’t tell her master?” Kiri was determined to look on the dark side of their future.
“Because she’s hiding as many secrets as we are.”
She looked as though she was about to argue. This was Kiri; she lived to argue. He flung up a hand to silence her. “I’m going to sleep. I’ve got a busy night ahead.”
“You can’t trust a Muirlander!” she called after him.
“And they certainly shouldn’t trust us!” he shouted back. Then, he collapsed into his bed and fell into oblivion.
9 – Meeting a Boy was Purely Coincidental
Most of the palace windows were dark. The ones that had light pouring from them were the windows into my father’s living rooms. My window was black, so it looked as though my absence hadn’t yet been discovered.
I stayed in the shadow of the rohannan bushes while I scanned the palace façade. A guard stood at each of the building’s corners. I’d need to get around them. I sucked in a breath scented with rohannan blossoms and let go of my magic. If I was found, it would be better to be found as the princess, rather t
han a stranger who’d broken into the palace grounds, especially when the guards were looking for a thief. I suspected they might punch first and ask questions later, and that would cause no end of problems, mainly for me.
The skin and muscles on my face slackened, relaxing back into their familiar shape from the taut magic. Now I was the princess, in the palace gardens. That was perfectly normal. In the early hours of the morning; that was less so. And wearing an odd selection of clothes. Well, that would definitely provoke uncomfortable questions, but my father was doubtless busy shouting at the guards to find his pet. I shivered. Perhaps I could sleep in the gardens until the worst of his fury was past. A week might do it.
I made my way around the edge of the lawns, sticking close to the wall, dodging from one patch of concealing greenery to the next.
The relief that cascaded over me when I slipped through the servants’ door while the guards were looking elsewhere was overwhelming. I was inside the palace. Now, I just had to reach my room. I started along the corridor and up the first flight of steps. Two more staircases and I’d be there. My heart started to sing in victory.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The cold voice hissed in my ear at the same moment my elbow was gripped painfully tightly. I was spun around, coming face to face with my mother. “You silly fool. Did you think you could run away from the future your father has arranged?”
She held my upper arm, hurrying me towards the steps that led up to the family rooms of the palace.
My heart pounded at her sudden appearance, and the sudden pain in my arm. “I wasn’t running away.” I protested.
“No. Chickened out, didn’t you?” She wasn’t looking at me, towing me onwards. “I don’t know whether I’m more ashamed to have raised a daughter who’s too much of a coward to face her fate, or one who’s incompetent to escape it.”
“I wasn’t trying to escape.”
Mother fell silent, staring at me in horror. I swear I saw the blood drain from her face. “Do you have a sweetheart?” Her voice dropped as she spoke the final word, as though she didn’t dare speak it aloud.
“No!” My face flushed, probably as red as my mother was white.
“You do, don’t you?” She spoke mostly to herself, not listening to me. “Are you even pure still?”
My heart and stomach lurched as though they wanted to swap places.
“I don’t have a sweetheart,” I said, trying to infuse my voice with a convincing tone. “And I’m still a virgin.” Neither of my parents were accustomed to listening to their daughter. I wasn’t sure how to persuade her now. My face was hot. I couldn’t honestly tell her no man had touched me after tonight, but they hadn’t done so in the way she meant.
“Does he know you are the princess?” She paused, her grip forcing me to halt, too, as she looked me up and down. “Is that why you dressed as a servant?”
“No!” I’d known my plain attire would take some explaining. “I swear, I didn’t sneak out of the palace to meet a boy.” Meeting a boy was purely coincidental. My cheeks turned to fire all over again.
She snorted. “You’re lying.”
“I swear I’m not.”
“If you’re not a virgin, it could cause a war between us and Surran, do you understand that?”
All because my maidenhead wasn’t quite pristine enough? All the heat in my face drained away at her insinuations. “I know where my value lies, Mother.”
“I sometimes doubt that you do.” She huffed at me, “True enough, I’m grateful you didn’t get far, and that I’m the one who found you—”
“I wasn’t trying to escape! And I wasn’t running to a boy.”
“What’s your explanation for the clothes, then?”
My pulse surged again. My stupid, rebellious thoughts of freedom had only got me into trouble. I did my best to think on my feet, trapped on the steps with my furious mother who thought me guilty of a sin laughably far of the mark. “That was because … I wanted to pretend I wasn’t me. I wanted to not be a princess, but just someone ordinary.” I met her gaze. “Haven’t you ever wanted to be someone else? Just for an hour?”
I thought her expression might be softening, then the expression in her eyes was replaced with ice. “No. Never.”
“I dressed like an ordinary girl and took a walk in the gardens. That’s all. I promise.” More assurances danced on my tongue, but I held them back. I’d said enough. I hoped.
She sniffed. “You’ll stay where we can find you until you leave for Surran. No more wandering off, even if it’s only into the gardens. Take a maid with you if you want a walk.”
Resentment made me hot. The irony that Mother had every right not to trust me didn’t escape me. But she didn’t know that. She ought to trust me. If I had a daughter I’d trust her. “I’m about to become a wife and a queen, Mother,” I pointed out. “How can you dare to send me to Surran if you don’t think I can be trusted to behave?”
I realised my mother had been softening towards me when her fingers gripped my arm again, tighter than ever. “If you mess up our treaty with Surran, your father will have you dismembered.”
The sad thing was, I didn’t think she was joking. Or even exaggerating. “I won’t mess up anything.”
“We need the Surran army to deal with the fae.”
“I know that.” I just didn’t know why. “Why do we even care about the fae all of a sudden? And why do you hate them so much? The fae are your ancestors.”
I barely saw my mother move before the crack of her hand meeting my cheek rang out and pain exploded over my face.
Her face pressed so close spittle struck my lips as she spoke. “If you repeat that slur to anyone I will cut your tongue out, daughter.” She pushed me and I tripped, falling up the stairs, catching myself on my hands, my shins bashing painfully against the wood.
“Get to your room. And stay there.”
I fled, almost tripping once more in my haste. The corridor was mercifully deserted and I reached my room without anyone seeing me. I leaned back against the door, my heart pounding, trying to hold back the tears. I wasn’t hurt. My face was sore, but it was shock more than pain. My hands were shaking and I clenched them to fists. What if Mother told my father what she thought? What if he believed her? What punishment could I expect if he thought I’d made myself worthless to the Surran king? My skin crawled as memories rose, fear matched with the burning heat of anger.
I calmed myself. It wasn’t true. A midwife could confirm me still a maid. Then all he’d do was send me to Surran as soon as he could, before I could let my imaginary sweetheart take liberties with my body.
I began to remove my clothes, bundling the dull cloak and dress under my bed. Just in my underwear, I crawled between the covers and squeezed my eyes shut. I was meeting problems before they’d arrived. Mother wouldn’t suggest my guilt to Father unless he had the idea himself first. She would gain nothing from denouncing me, so she’d keep her silence. Mother, whose own mother had had the violet-blue eyes of the fae. She hadn’t tried to hide her ancestry. Although, that was before we’d decided the fae were our enemies.
Restless, I rolled to the other side of the bed, got out and walked to the window. I was exhausted, but my mind was too busy for the calm of sleep. I unlatched one of the shutters, lifted the window and pushed the curtains aside. From here I could see out across the lawns to the wall. The city lay on the other side of the palace. From this direction the scenery led to the top of the fissure where cliffs carved a split along the edge of Muirland City. I shivered. They were the cliffs where all witches could expect to end their lives. Not the best view I might hope for. Beyond that, forests began that provided the wood Muirland needed, and beyond that, in the far distance, were the Firethorn Mountains, our border with the fae.
The sun ventured above the horizon and the sky was golden where dawn gilded the tops of the trees. I wondered if Lyo had made it back to Scopgot Lane safely. I hoped the guards had left him alone. My lips tingled and
my body warmed at memories of the night. I was glad I’d met him. Whatever happened in the future, I knew I’d remember tonight for the rest of my life. Especially that kiss. I wrapped my arms around myself, echoing the heat I’d found when we pressed together. I’d told my mother I wanted to be someone else for an hour or two, and that’s exactly what had happened with Lyo. I’d become a different person, a girl who wasn’t scared but fearless. A girl who kissed a boy she liked and didn’t tamely submit to a marriage that might benefit her family but certainly wouldn’t do her any good.
I leaned against the window, watching as a bird wheeled in the sky then vanished out of sight. I wished I were that bird, so I could fly away. Or that I could be the dragonette, and turn myself invisible. I lifted my hand in front of my face and tried to marshal my magic to create that miracle, but nothing happened. If it was possible, then it needed better skill than I had – or was ever likely to gain.
My deep sigh rent the air. I lived my life in fear. Fear of Father’s capricious bullying, fear of Mother’s moods. Fear that the mages would discover my magic and I’d end my life thrown off the cliffs that I could almost see from my room. And now, I was afraid of my forthcoming marriage and how my husband would treat me. I was tired of being afraid. It was exhausting.
Tonight had shown me something different. It was as though a new life had been dangled before me, full of exciting possibilities. A new life that could never be mine.
I slammed the shutters closed, wrenched the drapes together and retreated to my bed. I was a coward, trapped by my own weak self. I curled into a ball in the middle of my luxurious bed and willed sleep to take me away from myself.
After a while I slept, to dream of soaring through the sky on powerful wings, free to go where I willed it, the wind beneath me while the sun kissed my back and tempted me onwards.
10 – A Princess mustn’t be Faint-hearted
I might have slept until midday if I’d been allowed, but the maids came in and opened the shutters only an hour later than my usual time.
