The Great Pursuit

by Wendy Higgins

“Let’s get away from the door.” Tiern led her to a nearby hall. If possible, he seemed even more withdrawn and dark than an hour before. This time Vixie could very well understand why.

  “It lives,” he whispered. “It flew out over the sea. They tried to follow in boats but couldn’t keep up. It’s injured, though. Of that, I’m certain.”

  “Good,” Vixie whispered weakly. “Tiern . . .” She glanced surreptitiously around before continuing in an even softer voice. “I’m terribly worried about Aerity.”

  His wide eyes met hers, as if reading her thoughts. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Too late.”

  “It wasn’t smart for her to go in the first place,” he said hotly.

  “That’s neither here nor there at this point. I’ve decided to go and I would appreciate your companionship. But with or without you, I must find her.”

  Tiern’s jaw set. His nostrils flared. Truth was, Vixie’s plan would only work if Tiern was willing to help her. She hoped he wouldn’t call her bluff. He cursed under his breath.

  “What exactly is this blasted plan of yours, Vixie?”

  She held back from showing her relief. “This afternoon when the castle makes the bread run to the soldiers’ barracks, I will be hidden in the cart.”

  Tiern threw his head back and closed his eyes. “Oh, deep seas.”

  Vixie pressed on. “You will be at the stables, readying a horse and cart full of hay. I will roll from the cart as we pass the stables and hide under your stack of hay. You’ll take us to the nearest village and I can get out.”

  He gave her an incredulous look.

  She crossed her arms. “What?”

  “It will never work. How do you suppose you will get onto the cart without guards seeing you in the first place?”

  “Mr. Shellfine in the kitchen adores me and lets me have run of the pantry, but he does not allow guards to come stomping through the kitchens to follow me. He’ll whack them with a wooden spoon if they dare get near his rising dough.” She grinned triumphantly.

  Still, Tiern shook his head. “I’ll be thrown in the dungeons when we’re caught.”

  “Nay, I’ll say I was forcing you or bribing you or threatening you or something.” Vixie waved a hand. “But we won’t be caught.”

  He continued to stare at her as if she were mad.

  “Be ready at the stables. Tell the guards you’re doing whatever hunters do around the perimeter.”

  “Scouting? Why would I need a hay cart for that?”

  Vixie leaned her chin on her palm and thought. “Say you’re going to do some long-term scouting for beasts, into the woods. You’d need hay to feed the horses since grasses are dying off right now. It should work!”

  Tiern’s eyes held sheer skepticism, but his body slumped in a way that told Vixie he was tired of arguing.

  “And one more thing,” Vixie whispered. “I’ll need you to bring a set of commoner clothing for me to change into. I’ll take care of food since I’ll be in the pantry.”

  “This is absolute madness. I can’t even believe we’re discussing it. I won’t put you in that sort of danger.”

  “I’ll be safe with you.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Tiern . . .” Vixie prepared to pull out her biggest card. “This could be your only chance to see Paxton again.”

  His entire being stiffened as his eyes became unfocused in thought. She stood very still as he pondered.

  “Curses, Princess.” He exhaled sharply. “When does the bread cart come?”

  Vixie smiled as he relented. “One hour.”

  He raised his arms and smacked them down at his sides. “One hour? That’s it?”

  “Aye!” She wanted to clap her hands in delight. Down the hall she heard the murmur of voices. She and Tiern stuck their heads around the corner and saw Wyneth and Lord Alvi. They seemed so serious that it made her curious. Then she remembered the Kalorian guests.

  “Let’s see what’s happening,” Vixie said.

  They approached the pair, who smiled politely.

  “What’s going on?” Vixie asked.

  “Prince Vito has sent his royal council to speak with your father about their current situation,” Wyneth said. “They refuse to speak in front of anyone else. Prince Vito apparently has trust issues. They made the family and council leave. They wanted to be alone with the king and queen, but the guards refused to go. I mean, really! Who do they think they are, coming into another kingdom’s castle and making such demands?”

  “I don’t like it.” Lord Alvi shook his head. “I highly doubt they’d leave their own king or prince alone in a room with a bunch of Lochlan lords. Your king should have refused their demands completely.”

  “Well,” said Vixie diplomatically, “a king must sometimes compromise to make others comfortable in order to make revelation possible.”

  They all looked at her as if surprised. Vixie shrugged and rubbed her belly.

  “I’ll be needing to visit the kitchen soon.” She turned and gave Tiern a sly wink before nodding her good-byes to Wyneth and Lord Alvi. Inside, she was glad to be the one with her own secret this time.

  Vixie’s escape from the castle wasn’t glamorous, seeing as how she was dirty and bruised from her tumble from the bread cart. Now, breathing in the dusty air under a pile of hay, she knew she was out and that was all that mattered. She had to hold back peals of giddy laughter as she listened to Tiern’s muffled conversation with the guards at the gate. She grinned to herself the entire way to the village of Dovedell.

  When they got there and parked in the town stables, Tiern stood beside the cart and whispered. “Nobody is in sight. You can come out.” She pushed her way up, and he helped her by the hand, brushing straw from her shoulders. She had pulled her hair into a low bun, so the straw was fairly easy to pick out, although the small pieces would just have to stay until she could bathe. She wondered when that might be. . . .

  “Here are your clothes.” Tiern handed her brown rags. “I’ll turn my back and tell you if anyone is coming.” Vixie held up the breeches and tunic.

  “You’ve brought me lads’ clothing?”

  “I couldn’t very well go traipsing through the maiden’s laundry, could I?” There was laughter in his voice. Vixie held back an aggravated growl.

  She tried to pull at the lacing strings at the back of her dress, straining to undo the knot. “I think I need help.”

  He slightly crooked his head and peeked, then turned fully and got to work on the knots, gently loosening them and probably going a little lower than was necessary. Vixie had to hold up the loosened dress in the front. She turned to face him. He didn’t move. Just looked at her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “You do know you’re quite mad for a princess, right?”

  “Aye.” She smiled.

  He turned back around, crossing his arms. Vixie dropped the dress and made quick work of the breeches, pulling the string tight around her waist so that the fabric bunched. She rolled up the legs since they were too long. Then she pulled the tunic over her head and rolled the fabric at her wrists. It was baggy, but warm enough. Lastly, she pulled out a scarf and wrapped it about her head to cover her hair. The red curls would be a beacon to any royal guards who might happen to be in town.

  Vixie peered down at herself, feeling dowdy. “I look ridiculous!”

  Tiern turned and gave a snort. “Only you could manage to be adorable dressed like that.” He flushed and dropped his smile. “Come on. We need to find a hearty meal and then we’ll be straight on our way. We’ll have to ride hard. I took the biggest, strongest horse from the guest stables to pull the cart, since he’ll have to carry us both.”

  Vixie admired his selection and followed him to the inn. When they entered the warm room filled with chatting people, Vixie first felt apprehension as people turned to look them over, and then euphoria as they all turned back to their own conversations, clueless as to her id
entity. Her heart danced as they took stools at the end of the bar. Vixie stared around at the lived-in space with its worn counters and knobby chairs, the fire roaring in a blackened hearth. It was cozy and she felt free. Inconspicuous.

  “What can I getcha?” the barkeep asked.

  Vixie dreamily said, “Your largest ale, my good chap.”

  The older, thin man let out a whelp and slapped his knee. “Lil’ thing like you?”

  Tiern laughed nervously and pinched the top of Vixie’s thigh. “She’s only joking. Water and meat pies will do us.”

  Oh, fine. “And two coffees with sugar, please,” Vixie added. They would need it to keep them awake on the ride.

  The barkeep raised his eyebrows at her, then looked to Tiern, who nodded. “It’s her birthday.” The man looked Vixie over again before walking away.

  “Why must it be my birthday to have a coffee?” Vixie whispered.

  “Coffee and sugar are luxuries,” he whispered back. “Very expensive. Most commoners opt for a weaker herbal tea blend with milk.”

  “Oh . . .” Vixie stared down the bar at the hands holding wooden cups. Some wore grungy fingerless gloves. Ungloved hands were leathery and clearly hard-worked. Not one of them held a coffee mug. Her abdomen twisted with an unfamiliar guilt, and the coin pouch at her waist felt particularly heavy. She’d never thought of them as worth much until that moment.

  When their coffees came, Vixie finished hers as quickly as possible and pushed the mug away. She felt guilty enjoying it in front of the others. Tiern did the same. The meat pies were filling, though the crusts were far denser and the meat less seasoned than the castle’s. Vixie slipped coins to Tiern and he stood to go pay, just as two boys her age came up behind them.

  “You two leaving? Can we have these stools, then?”

  “Aye, in a moment,” Vixie told them.

  The boys cocked their heads, stared at her, then looked at each other with mirth. They had cute faces, albeit too thin.

  “You a lad or a lass?” one asked.

  Vixie propped a hand on her hip. “Do I sound like a lad?”

  “Maybe a lad who hasn’t gone through the change,” the other said. They bumped each other, laughing. “Why you wearing a lad’s clothes, then?”

  Perhaps Vixie should have been offended by their gruff teasing, but she found it quite humorous. Nobody ever treated her this way. “My dress is in the laundry, you gits.”

  “Nah, nah,” one said, pushing a mass of curly light brown hair from his eyes. “If you’re a lass, prove it.”

  Oh, now, that was going a bit too far. She wanted to prove it with a punch to his groin, but suddenly Tiern was at her side, wrapping a hand around her waist. His face came down and he pressed his lips to hers, warm and soft. It was over before she’d had a chance to process it. “Ready, love?” he asked. Then he turned a glare at the two boys. They backed away and let Vixie and Tiern pass.

  Vixie blinked, in a daze, as Tiern took her hand and led her out. He didn’t release her hand until they got to the horse.

  “We’ll have to leave the cart behind,” he said. “Is there anything else hiding under the hay?”

  What? Was he going to act as if he hadn’t just kissed her? He set to work unhitching the horse. When he finished he turned to her. “Vix? Are you going to check the cart?”

  He’d called her Vix. . . . She shook her head to clear it and then began roughly tossing hay from the cart, riffling through the straw for her pack.

  Tiern grasped the back of his neck. “Look, Vixie, that was nothing, okay? The lads had taken an interest and I had to claim you or they might have tried to follow.” He moved away from her to fiddle with the saddle and bridle.

  I had to claim you. Vixie shivered with strange pleasure, but then the idea that he’d done it out of an obligation took the wind from her sails. She couldn’t understand the ways of lads.

  “It’s ready.” Tiern pointed to the horse. Vixie obliged, still unable to find her voice.

  She’d just had her first kiss! While it may or may not have been a “real” kiss, it was one of the sweetest sensations she’d ever experienced. Seas, his mouth had been so warm. She climbed atop the horse, followed by Tiern’s lithe form behind her. Together their body heat kindled between them.

  “Are you comfortable?” he asked.

  She nodded and let him take the reins. Just as they were setting off, two soldiers came charging up from down the lane. Seas! There was nowhere to hide. They would have already been seen. Vixie couldn’t believe her sorry luck, to be caught so quickly! Tiern whispered a curse as the men approached, out of breath.

  “Have you seen any foreign riders?” one of the soldiers asked.

  What in Eurona? Vixie shook her head, and Tiern responded, “Nay, sir.”

  “Any carts or wagons of any kind?” the other soldier’s voice was persistent, desperate. “Anything suspicious at all?”

  “Nothing,” Tiern said. “Can you tell me what’s happened? I was part of the recent hunt.”

  The soldier caught his breath and said gravely, “The king and queen have been kidnapped by Kalorians.”

  “What?” Vixie yelled. She fought for breath. Her body felt disjointed, as if she’d just done a horribly faulty trick on horseback. Tiern’s hand went around her waist, holding her tightly.

  “Aye. Our navy ship followed their vessel out to sea and took control, but it was a decoy. We believe the Kalorians escaped on foot. They were Lashed. They left a trail of dead. Spread the word. All must be on the lookout.”

  They took off toward the inn, and everything inside Vixie constricted.

  “Oh seas, oh seas, oh seas.” She was going to be sick. “Tiern . . .” She struggled to say his name. “We have to go!” She fumbled to pull the reins from his hands.

  “Sh, sh. You’re panicking, Vixie. I’ve got it.”

  Dry sobs rose up as she fought for air. Her mum. Her papa. What had their captors done to them? “We have to find Aer,” she said fiercely.

  “Seas . . . if your parents are gone and Aerity is gone, there is no one on the throne.”

  “Aye. Go!” Vixie said, never more certain in her life. “Find her!”

  “Yah!” Tiern called out, urging the horse with his heels, and the two of them leaned forward as they shot down the path.

  Chapter

  17

  Traveling south for days, Aerity was taken by surprise at the climate shift. She began the journey cold, and now she couldn’t stand the thought of putting that cloak around her. She was glad for the thinness of her shift and dress, even though they clung to her. She rode, swatting all manner of biting flies from her face. It wasn’t hot, exactly, just warm, but the air held moisture and gave the atmosphere a stifling consistency.

  She rode behind Harrison through the thick forest. It wasn’t the dry-barked, straight-up-and-down sort of trees she was accustomed to. No pine needles littered the ground. No full canopies of soft greenery. These trees had large, thick leaves and seemed to bend in all directions as they rose high above, weighed down by vines. And not the leafy vines of Lochlanach, but wide, veiny creepers like snakes that wound around trunks and branches.

  When they came to a fork in the path, Harrison stopped and opened his map. He pointed to the southeast path.

  “This will take us south and we’ll turn east just before a lake. We’ll cut through this patch of woods eastward until we hit the path to Zorfina. It’s not much farther, Aer. Two days, perhaps. The Zandalee tribe is said to be just inside the border in the south, over the hills.”

  She nodded, happy. Not much longer. Aerity pulled the damp hair from her neck. She still felt a moment of surprise and confusion whenever she caught sight of her dark locks. Harrison gave her a small smile.

  “You look so unlike yourself. Each day I have to stare a moment to find you inside that disguise. Mostly because you’re so filthy.”

  Aerity returned his rueful smile. “Very funny. At least I don’t have a furry c
ritter growing on my face.”

  He rubbed his cheek. “Speaking of growing, though.” He pointed to her hairline. “There’s a tiny bit of light hair showing. Just a sliver. Not sure anyone would notice but—”

  Oh, no! Aerity’s hand shot upward. She absolutely could not allow any of her natural color to show. “I have a small jar of the dye. I can patch it up.”

  “Now?”

  “I really must,” she said. “And I’ll need your help.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” His face froze, making her laugh.

  “I don’t have a looking glass! I’m likely to stain my entire forehead.”

  He gave her a you-owe-me glare. They pulled their horses off the path and Aerity made quick work of stirring the liquid with a stick. Harrison sighed loudly and took the stick, heeding her directions. He was very careful to dab the stick in the dye and comb upward along her hairline, only touching the new growth and not her skin. His tongue protruded from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. He worked from one of her ears, up and around her hairline to the other ear.

  “There. Do you need to wash it?”

  “I suppose I can’t,” she said. “It’ll have to do for now. Thank you.”

  Seas alive, she’d give anything for a long, proper bath. She swatted a bug from her arm and shuddered. Flying beetles had taken to falling on her from trees, and she was only glad they weren’t the hairy spiders she’d heard of. As they remounted and turned to head down the south path, Aerity glimpsed something white sticking out from under the brush. “What’s that?”

  Harrison stopped, climbed down, and plucked it out. He smoothed it against his leg and shook his head. “It’s in Kalorian.”

  Aerity held out her hand and took the parchment, which appeared to have once been posted on a tree. She read, and her heart began to race.

  “‘Lashed Ones. A haven can be found at Lake Rainiard in return for your services.’” Her eyes went wide. “Harrison! Do you suppose Paxton saw this? Is that the lake up ahead on the map?”

  Worry filled Harrison’s eyes. “It’s the only lake in the south, so I assume it is, but I don’t have a good feeling about this. What services are they asking of the Lashed?”