Beyond the Four Kingdoms Box Set 1

by Melanie Cellier

  “Well, exactly.”

  He stared at me in confusion.

  I bit my lip. “Do you really trust Sterling?”

  He straightened, a look of concern crossing his face. “Do you think he was lying? That he’s planning to slip away overnight?”

  “Actually, I hadn’t even thought of that.” I considered it. “No, I think he sounded genuinely committed to this trek. And really, where would he go? Back to his village? In that case, we can just follow him. I don’t think there are going to be a lot of other tracks heading up the mountain.”

  Oliver relaxed. “You’re right. And I don’t think his village wants the destruction of the kingdom. They do trade with us after all. And we only need to borrow this object…”

  He hoped. But I didn’t voice that thought aloud.

  With his mind apparently put at rest, Oliver turned back to his bag. I cleared my throat.

  “That isn’t actually what I meant.”

  He looked up again and waited for me to go on, but I could read the impatience at the back of his eyes. He was already consumed with this new hope and his need to save his kingdom.

  “I just meant that we don’t really know anything about him. Except for what he just told us himself. After we found him hiding in your room and spying on us.” I raised an eyebrow, but Oliver just shrugged.

  “He explained that.”

  I gave him a skeptical look but let that point go. “What does he do here at the palace? I don’t think he actually said…”

  Oliver shrugged. “I have no idea. Normally I’d direct you to talk to the steward, but given the current state of the steward…”

  “Well, do you at least remember him from Marin? Was he really part of that delegation?”

  Oliver squinted off into the distance. After a long moment, he grimaced at me and shrugged again. “Sorry, Celine, I can’t remember.”

  I opened my mouth, but he must have read the frustration in my eyes, because he cut me off. “It’s hard to explain, but while I can remember things that happened while I was under the enchantment, they aren’t really clear. It’s like I’m remembering through a haze or a fog. Or like it was all a particularly lucid dream. There’s just no way I could remember details like the face of a random servant.”

  I pursed my lips and began my customary pacing. “Of course whether or not he was in Marin doesn’t really have any bearing on anything. I just wish we had a way to prove at least one thing he’s told us is true. I just have a…strange feeling about him.”

  Oliver gave me a look, so I rushed to defend myself. “I don’t just recognize him from Marin—or wherever. I saw him that day we did the tour of the city. He was watching us. And I’m sure you remember what happened on that occasion.”

  Oliver frowned. “You mean you saw him just before we took that wrong turn off? He was there in the tunnels with us?”

  “Well, no,” I said reluctantly. “It was earlier—outside.”

  Oliver growled impatiently. “Do you know how many people saw us in the city? How many palace servants run errands up there? And given he’s not affected by the enchantment, it’s hardly surprising that he might have some curiosity about a visiting foreign princess. You know—enough to stop and look if he happened to cross paths with us.”

  He gave me a pointed look, and I sighed, running a hand across my face. Everything he said was true, of course. I just wished I didn’t feel so uneasy about the whole thing.

  His face softened as he watched me, and he crossed over to stand in front of me. He ran his hand up and down my arm, his gaze locked on my face.

  “I appreciate your concern, Celine, I really do. But my kingdom is dying, and I’ve just learned that if I can’t save it—and soon—it’s going to be ripped apart even further. We were about to go off on a quest hoping to find a clue that might lead us to the mirror. Talk about a hopeless endeavor! And now here we actually have a potential option. The best I’ve ever heard for what might have happened to the thief. I always thought it strange that someone smart enough to steal the mirror in the first place was foolish enough to flee up the mountain.”

  I must have still looked unconvinced because he pushed on.

  “Maybe everything won’t work out as perfectly as I outlined earlier. But at least this way we have a double chance. If this object isn’t going to be any help, we still have a chance of finding the mirror. And if the mirror isn’t in the village, then perhaps this object will serve us instead. I’ll be cautious. I don’t have to actually trust this Sterling. But I do have to take this chance. I have to.”

  I frowned. There was no denying this plan seemed to hold more hope than wandering aimlessly around the kingdom. My thoughts circled back to the blue velvet queen.

  “Do you know that portrait in the southern corridor on the second floor? The one surrounded by velvet with the empty pedestal next to it?”

  Oliver blinked a couple of times, trying to keep pace with my change of direction. “Queen Estelle, you mean?”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t actually ask Giselle her name. But probably. Has it always been empty? The pedestal, I mean.”

  Oliver looked at me curiously. “Are you thinking she might have been the orphan girl from Sterling’s story? It would fit well enough.”

  “It just occurred to me that if it was her, maybe she had the empty pedestal placed there to honor the object that she had given away. The one that helped her free the royal family.”

  Oliver nodded, already turning back to his bag. “That could well be. And it would support Sterling’s story.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” I still didn’t feel easy about it, but I could come up with no further reason to oppose the expedition. And after my earlier betrayal, I wanted to support Oliver now. I certainly couldn’t leave him to go up the mountain alone. Which meant I needed to pack my own bag.

  I crossed swiftly to the door, but paused before exiting, my hand on the door knob. “You told him there were only going to be two of us. I thought we’d already had that conversation.”

  He looked a little guilty. “That was when we were just going on a tour of the kingdom. A trip up into the high ranges in this weather will be far more dangerous.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Good luck with that one.” I pushed the door open. “Don’t expect any help from me.” I could imagine just how that would have gone down with me at age fifteen.

  Giselle turned out to be a lot less vocal in her protests than I would have been, but it was hard to resist the look of appeal she threw at me.

  I held up both hands and backed away. “Uh uh. I am not getting involved. This one is between the two of you.”

  Giselle looked disgusted, but I held firm. I thought she might ignore me after that, in a huff, but instead she sought me out later when Oliver had gone with Sterling to look over the supplies he had gathered.

  She got straight to the point. “I don’t like this situation.”

  I sighed, not wanting to start the conversation again, but she quickly shook her head.

  “I don’t mean that. I mean this Sterling fellow. And the whole story. It’s mighty convenient. Oh, and the coup. I don’t like that part either.”

  I winced sympathetically. Oliver had tried to use the coup as an excuse for why she needed to stay behind. He wasn’t keeping her safe, he had claimed. If there was an army camped only a day away, then we needed someone who could still think to stay.

  But she saw through that argument as easily as my fifteen-year-old self would have.

  “Yes,” she had said to him. “Because I’m going to be super effective at holding off an entire army on my own. Or perhaps you think I’m going to rouse the guard to acts of heroism? When I can’t even get my own sister—who also happens to be my best friend—to have a conversation with me anymore.”

  She was right, of course. And I could understand why the knowledge of the impending coup would only make her more uncomfortable about being abandoned here. Which is why I didn’t try to repeat Ol
iver’s arguments in his absence.

  “Well, if we fail and the army comes, just stay out of the way,” I said, instead. “Or better yet, find Cassandra and Alexander. I’m sure they’ll protect you once they realize you aren’t under the enchantment and you don’t intend to put up a fight.”

  “Thank you, Celine, all my worries are now eased.”

  I sighed. “You know as well as I do that there are no good options from here. I don’t trust Sterling either. But Oliver is determined to go ahead with this. And to be honest, I can’t blame him. What else are we supposed to do?”

  “You could convince him this is a bad idea,” said Giselle, her eyes fixed earnestly on me. “I know you could.”

  “You overestimate me.” I shifted uncomfortably. I wasn’t going to ask why she thought I would have more influence over her brother than she did. “I already tried.”

  Giselle sighed and slumped back. “Not hard enough, clearly,” she muttered.

  I narrowed my eyes but decided to let the comment go. We were all on edge. Silence enveloped us until she suddenly looked up, her eyes fierce.

  “Then you need to protect him. Promise me you’ll keep him safe! You’re our secret weapon if this Sterling does turn out to be untrustworthy.”

  “Of course, I will, Giselle. You know I will.”

  She nodded once, firmly, and seemed satisfied with that.

  The remaining hours of the day were consumed with packing and various preparations. Every time I saw Giselle she had Emmeline beside her, so we didn’t speak again of our expedition. But her eyes seemed to burn into mine, reminding me of my promise. Even the presence of her sister seemed calculated to remind me of what was at stake.

  But I didn’t need her reminders. Even as I worked, I constantly turned my attention inward, even if only for a few seconds. The simmering warmth inside reassured me every time. Once, when I found myself alone in a corridor, I even briefly ignited my fingertips, my gaze captivated by the merrily burning flames. I held it for a full count of one hundred before clasping my hands into fists to extinguish them.

  I wasn’t helpless. Whatever was coming for us, we had a power it couldn’t even imagine. Whatever happened, I would get us out of it. I was sure of it. Because I had always been determined. But now I was also powerful.

  Chapter 16

  I knew I needed a good sleep—so naturally I tossed and turned restlessly all night. And still the dawn came all too soon. We gathered silently in the entrance hall, and I could see the relief on Oliver’s face when Sterling appeared as promised.

  I had half expected Giselle to be absent in a silent protest, but she was there to wave us off, Emmeline accompanying her. Emmeline seemed even more subdued than usual, not showing the least interest in our obvious departure. Oliver looked guilty, his eyes constantly flicking between his sisters, but neither he nor Giselle actually spoke about her abandonment.

  Sterling had allocated out the supplies, and it was obvious I had received the lightest pack. I made no complaint, however. I might have been working on my fitness, but I didn’t feel entirely equipped for a dangerous hike up a steep and icy mountain range.

  None of the other inhabitants of the palace so much as cast us a second glance, and the people in the city were no more interested. Snow now lingered on all the streets and stairways of the mountain, and I actually felt a pang of relief knowing the Elamese army was so close.

  At least if something happened to us, Giselle wouldn’t end up trapped by snow and left to starve to death.

  I shook off the morbid thoughts as we reached the northern-most edge of the city. A trail led upward, but Sterling had warned that it would take us only a small part of the way. His people had tracked a passable route, but they didn’t travel it often enough for a true trail to have developed.

  I hitched my pack higher and looked down at my clothes in distaste. I had been forced to raid the wardrobe of an unprotesting Emmeline because I didn’t have anything even close to suitable for this journey. Giselle hadn’t finished growing, so she was too short for me to borrow anything of hers. But, unfortunately, Emmeline was taller than me, despite being younger, and her clothes didn’t fit nearly as well as I would have liked. If I’d had more time, I would have had my maids readjust them, but the time available hadn’t allowed for it.

  And that was if I could have roused them to the effort. I had watched with growing alarm as my own people took on the same disinterested air as the locals. They weren’t as far gone—yet—but it seemed my gift had saved more than just Oliver and Giselle. I shivered at the thought of losing myself to the enchantment, but Oliver looked back at me with concern, so I forced a smile.

  My thoughts returned to my outfit. It was quite a cunning ensemble, really, and I would have loved to have one that actually fit, sewn especially for me. Particularly if it was designed by my genius sister-in-law Evie. An inner, skin-tight layer provided extra warmth, and every item was water-proof. The fur-lined boots reached almost to my knees, and the long jacket had been designed to look like a dress, although it cut off just above my knees. Still, between the jacket and the boots, only a short stretch of pants was visible.

  A clever compromise between modesty and practicality, since not even the most elegant noble-bred lady could be expected to trek up mountains and through snow in a proper gown. The fur that lined it showed around the hood and along the bottom of the jacket and felt impossibly soft against my cheeks.

  Sterling talked as we walked—apparently suffering from no lack of breath—telling me all about the difficulties in finding game so high in the mountains, particularly in the winter. He explained how no part of the animal was wasted and described something of the process of turning animal hides into clothing such as what I wore.

  It sounded like a highly unpleasant process to me, but he claimed that his village possessed several experts and that the clothing they created was one of the most prized items their traders brought to the city. I had to admit to some interest in meeting these people and even felt a pang of regret that our visit would of necessity be so short. Perhaps one day, when the kingdom had been restored, I could visit the village again. I could even come with the party returning their object to them, perhaps.

  By the time it reached late afternoon, I had sourly abandoned any such plans. If there was one thing I did not intend to do, it was climb up this mountain ever again. My legs ached, and the cold air burned its way down to my lungs with every gulping breath. And yet every time I stopped to look back, it seemed we had come almost no distance at all.

  And in case the trail wasn’t already difficult enough, we soon encountered snow too deep to be easily waded through. At that point I discovered the use of the strange contraptions someone had attached to the outside of my pack.

  A hardwood frame shaped into an oval that tapered at the back supported a latticework of rawhide lacings. Oliver explained it was called a snowshoe and had me sit on a nearby boulder while he showed me how to attach them to my boots.

  “Ideally, I would have preferred you to have a chance to practice in them first,” he said as he finished his demonstration. “But…”

  He shrugged and stood back up, and I wondered why my feet could feel the absence of his hands, despite the many layers between us. I had hoped for at least a smile from him, but it seemed despite his gratitude at my accompanying him, he hadn’t entirely forgotten the betrayal of my deal with Cassandra. I could almost read the conflicting emotions in his eyes every time they rested on me.

  I soon found I had to adopt an unnatural stride to make the shoes work, and several times I ended up on my backside in the snow before I got the hang of it. Oliver demonstrated the best method, a stride which allowed the inner edges of the two snowshoes to slide over one another. But it was only through trial and error that I worked out how to correctly roll my feet to make it work.

  And even after I thought I had the trick of it, a tight turn between two towering walls of rock sent me straight back onto the snow a
gain. In the end Oliver had to come back for me and help me to execute a strange maneuver which required me to bend my legs at an awkward angle so that one had completely turned while the other still remained straight. He called it a kick turn, explaining it in such a cheerful manner that I muttered dire threats about who exactly I would soon be kicking.

  He just laughed, probably because he knew that any actual attempt on my part to kick anyone was more likely to lead to my downfall than theirs. When I made it around what turned out to be a series of difficult turns, I crowed with such triumph that he laughed again.

  Sterling, however, merely frowned at me and told me to keep my voice down. “There are predators even up here,” he said. “Not to mention the risk of an avalanche.”

  That effectively rendered me entirely mute for the next hour. And by the time we stopped to make camp for the night, I was far too exhausted to talk. My calves burned more intensely than the magical banked fire in my chest, and I made only feeble attempts to help with the set up before I was thankfully told to sit down and rest.

  Sterling had led us to a small, empty cave, protected enough by a rocky overhang to be free of snow. I could only hope his route included such snug shelters for every night of our journey. I didn’t much fancy camping out among the snowdrifts.

  I detached the cumbersome snowshoes—proud to manage it on my own—and massaged my feet while Sterling piled a collection of small branches ready for a campfire. I had noticed him collecting them as we walked, securing them to the top of his pack with a strap clearly designed for such a use.

  When he went out to fill a small pot with snow, ready for melting into water, I pulled off my gloves and called cheerily after him that I would light the fire while he was gone. He didn’t respond, but as soon as he was out of sight, I poured all of my exhaustion and irritation into the warm spot inside me. It blazed up more strongly than I had intended, and the trickle of flame I had meant to send at the branches more closely resembled a fire ball.