Threats of Sky and Sea Page 24

  And may the tides sweep me away, I want to go to him. But I grind my fingernails into the palms of my hands and use the pain to ground myself. I ignore my heated cheeks and the rushing of my heartbeat as I step to the side.

  “This…isn’t wise,” I manage to get out.

  “Wisdom is overrated,” Caden says, reaching for my hand.

  “Caden.” Exasperation and tension color my voice, and his hands fall to his sides as he hears it. “Someone could happen upon us at any moment.”

  As I speak the words, I realize the truth in them and look around, suddenly fearful that we’ve already been discovered. It isn’t wise to let my guard down in the open like this.

  “Closed quarters then. Your chambers. Mine.”

  “My chambers that I share with Aleta and that have a guard posted outside constantly? Be realistic,” I say with a hand outstretched before me to ward him off. “We were foolish to let it go this far.”

  “Breena.” Hurt echoes in his tone, and he steps back. “You don’t mean that.”

  I turn away. I can’t look back at him, can’t see his expression entreating me to stay. I’m not sure I’ll stand firm if I do. He’s betrothed and the prince of the realm, and I am just me.

  “Goodnight, Your Highness.”

  And good-bye.

  Thirty-Six

  I lean against the door to my chambers heavily. Have I made the right decision with Caden? What’s one night, after all, in the grand scheme of things? I’d at least have the memory to hold onto in the future.

  Unless the night changes things for me somehow and convinces me to stay, to subject myself to a future where Caden is married to Aleta, with a horde of tiny princesses and princelings milling about him. I picture a swarm of children with the lethal combination of Caden’s gray eyes and Aleta’s ability to squash someone with a look.

  But even that’s wrong. There will be no children—only the king at the helm of an empire spanning multiple nations and Aleta, cold and dead in the ground.

  Right. Best grasp hold of reality again, Mistress Perdit.

  Moving farther into the chambers, I find Aleta there already, framed in the window, staring up at the moon. It bathes her in a silvery light, and she closes her eyes as she tilts her chin toward it.

  “I’m getting married tomorrow,” she says without turning.

  “At least you managed to evade the guard,” I say, jerking my thumb toward the door. I still haven’t quite caught my breath. “How did you manage that one?”

  “They didn’t see me slip out. I thought perhaps—maybe this time I’d be bold enough to use the tunnel for a real escape. Or to make good on my roses’ promise. Yet here I sit.”

  I drop beside her and sit down. “Are you nervous?”

  “About the ceremony?” She scoffs. “To be nervous, I’d have to be able to feel.”

  “You can’t fool me that easily,” I say quietly. “You’re not letting anyone win anything by admitting you have emotions, you know.”

  Aleta’s shoulders slump, just slightly. She sighs. “Yes. I’m nervous. Marriage is so final. I envy the peasants in that. I’m not so foolish as to have some romantic notion of love in mind, but being able to make the decision for what might actually benefit me… It would be a nice switch.”

  It would be nicer, I know, if she were able to have some sort of romantic notion in mind. I think of the way that Caden looks at me. The way that Tregle looks at Aleta. Our leaving will be a blow to the Torcher. It’s sure to be unexpected, but we need to go.

  I look out the window at the capital. The lights of whatever festival had been taking place out in the city several weeks ago are gone. A few flickering candles glow dimly in some windows, but it’s hard to see. Perfect cover.

  We may truly be able to find ourselves lost there. At least until we can make a better plan, plot a more efficient route out of the city.

  But first, I realize, I still need to tell Aleta of the atrocities that await her if she marries tomorrow.

  “I need… There’s something I must…” After several false starts, I manage to summon the words.

  A degree paler, Aleta simply nods upon hearing the assassination plot.

  “You don’t seem surprised.”

  She shrugs. “The king has always hated me. He playacts well. I’m his doted-upon ward to any who ask, but I knew why he really kept me. He wants my land. My people.” Her chin lifts. “He cannot have them.”

  “I thought the same. He wants whatever Da has, and he wants me as his weapon. He can’t have us either.”

  “There’s the tunnel,” Aleta says. Her eyes are suddenly determined. “I will use it. I cannot hope to fight off so many guards with only my own Torching power, but I will go down fighting if I must. Better that my lands should officially transfer to my aunt than the king have them in his grasp.”

  “You won’t be alone. Come on,” I tug at Aleta’s sleeve, suddenly breathless and wide awake.

  What have I been waiting for? I think, suddenly impatient with myself. Really. Now is the time to go. The entire reason I’d intended to wait to flee until after the wedding was the belief that the rest of the palace would be occupied. I’d plotted based on the belief that the marriage would not be legitimized, unconsummated as it was. But I’ve learned differently and the nobility is occupied now, celebrating the impending marriage, albeit without the prince and princess.

  And somehow, luck has it that both Aleta and I have slipped back to the rooms without drawing the gaze of a guard. Silently, I thank the Makers for the small blessing. I won’t take it for granted.

  Aleta removes herself from my hold. “What are you on about?” she asks irritably.

  “Don’t you see? Now’s our chance to get out of here.” I cross to the door in three strides, yanking it open.

  Aleta pulls up short, a strange expression crossing her face. “You want to come with me?”

  “What? Yes, of course. We’ve both got a better shot if we don’t go it alone. But I need to get something first. Now, come on.”

  I push the princess out into the dark corridor and hush her questions as we creep along the hall. My pulse beats a tattoo in my throat. If attendees of the ball leave early—if someone emerges from the corridor—

  I hope I can manage to control at least a little water. Just enough to get them out of our way temporarily. I’d planned to pocket a waterskin somehow tomorrow, but it’s a humid night, so if I have to, I can pull it from the atmosphere if someone surprises me.

  I think.

  I really hope we won’t be surprised.

  We leave the main castle and head for the building that houses the king’s dungeon. The path that opens up before us is wrapped in shadows.

  “Breena,” Aleta grunts. “Why are we on our way to the dungeons?”

  “To get Da,” I say slowly, confused. “I thought you realized.”

  Aleta’s face darkens, her eyes narrowing to slits. “I did not. You surely did not believe that I would willingly ally myself with my parents’ murderer?”

  “I believed you’d have enough sense to ally yourself with whoever could get you away from the king,” I say. A breeze whistles past my ears. I shiver. “We don’t have time for this. Are you with me or aren’t you?”

  She hesitates for a fraction of a second. “With,” she settles on. “But less than pleased about it.”

  “You can let yourself be pleased when we’re free of this place.”

  She motions me forward. “Lead on then.”

  From our position crouched behind a bush, I can see that the guard at the front of the dungeon dozes fitfully. But getting into the dungeon won’t be the problem.

  I rise and walk up to him nonchalantly, chanting to myself all the while. Placid like a lake. Placid like a lake. Placidplacidplacid.

  “Good eve, sir knight,” I say loudly.

  The guard starts awake, yanking his sword from his scabbard and leveling it at us.

  With two fingers, Aleta pushes it
aside. “Do you often make a habit of threatening the nobles of the realm?” she inquires icily, taking charge of the conversation. I let her. She’s altogether more intimidating than I am. “The Lady Breena wishes to speak with her father.”

  The guard’s expression sours. “The dirty Rider?”

  “The duke,” I correct him, sneering. I don’t have to let anyone else insult Da. Or myself. At least, not anymore.

  “Go on in then,” he says, waving us inside.

  I can hardly believe my good fortune. Ordinarily, the guard escorts me to Da’s cell door himself. We’ll gain a few precious minutes this way.

  Aleta and I keep a decorous pace as we lift the skirts of our gowns to step down the steps and plunge into the dungeon. But once I think we’re entirely clear of the guard, I race past the other cells, Aleta at my heels. The prisoners are quiet now, though a few whimper in their sleep. We slow, nearing the end of the corridor where Da’s cell is.

  The stool I sat upon the last time I visited lays sideways, abandoned. A creak greets my ears.

  “Da?” I call. A frisson of fear shoots through me as I dart to his unbarred cell door.

  Only piles of filthy hay meet my eyes.

  Da’s cell is empty.

  Thirty-Seven

  My first impulse is, madly enough, to laugh.

  Because really, it’s funny. Here I am thinking that the Makers have bestowed some all-fired powerful blessing on me and Da. Least they could do after the muck-about they’ve turned my life into, right?

  But I’m only a cosmic punchline.

  Aleta shoves me toward the dungeon’s exit. I push back, still laughing.

  “What’s your hurry?” I ask, feeling reckless. What’s the point? Without Da, I’ve lost the war. Aleta and I will be the king’s playthings forevermore.

  Iron fingers grip my wrist, and my whooping chuckles trail off. My arm surges forward in Aleta’s stern hold. The princess’s eyes glow with the Torcher fire.

  “It is far from over.”

  I let her lead me from the dungeon like a child, throwing a last look at Da’s swinging door and the piles of hay, mussed from where he’d slept on it. I think again of the day I ran away from The Bridge and Duchess so long ago.

  I’m running again, Da. But this time, I wanted you to come with me.

  The guard waves us past with a careless hand. Once out of his line of vision, Aleta’s stance shifts, and she hastens our pace through the gardens, dragging me in her wake. I’m sobering.

  “Aleta? What if he’s already dead?” Aleta’s footsteps slow. “What if—what if the king pushed the deadline up because I didn’t get him his information?”

  Resolutely, she says, “Then there is nothing you can do for him. Grieve later.”

  We move swiftly, our breaths rattling the still air around us. Shadows reach for us, dark sentries standing guard around the palace.

  “We must hurry. It won’t be long before they’re alerted to your father’s escape. They’re certain to think that we had something to do with it.”

  “We should have done.” My heart is lead in my chest. “Guess saving his own skin mattered more to him.”

  Despite what I said to Aleta, I know Da’s disappearance is not the king’s doing. I saw the lock hanging from the cell bars. That wasn’t a lock that had been opened with a key. Somehow, it had been forced open. Da left me behind.

  I never would have thought it of him. Despite all of the lies, his secret past, the killings—even with those clouding my mind with doubt so I could scarcely think to puzzle out the mysteries of his history, I’d been so sure I knew him at his core.

  “They’ll try to tell you who you are, Breena Rose, but don’t you listen.”

  I’d obeyed my father all these months as they’d called me a lady, an heiress, a Thrower, a duchess. I’d held myself separate from the designations of nobility or peasantry. I’m just Bree. I know who I am at the end of it all. But maybe I should have paid more attention to him. Maybe I should have listened when they tried to tell me who Ardin of Secan was.

  “You’re my daughter, and I swear to you I had good reason.”

  Where are his reasons now? All this time—all this time—I’ve held fast to that paternal bond. Trusted that when we left, it would be together. What kind of man leaves his daughter behind? My feet halt. Just as Da had said, it’s all different now.

  The fingers around my wrist loosen, and Aleta whirls me about. She grips my shoulders and bores her stare into me. “Do not. Don’t you dare, Lady Breena Secan.”

  “It’s Perdit,” I mutter around a clogged throat.

  “I don’t give a toss in the coffers what you want to call yourself. Get a hold of yourself. Now.”

  “Maybe it would help if you didn’t have such a hold on me,” I spit.

  Something like satisfaction slips over Aleta’s features, and she releases me. How dare she look happy about this?

  “If you haven’t noticed my da just left me.” It’s a cry that cracks through the air. A bird flies startled from a tree above our heads. I poke Aleta in the arm, hissing. “You could look less pleased.”

  “I won’t play at falsehoods and tell you that I’m sorry he’s not with us. He cost me a family. That’s not something I’ll ever forgive.”

  “I—” My mouth closes. Am I actually going to defend him? Now? Still?

  Aleta gives me a shove. “Grieve later. If you haven’t noticed though, I’m still here. You’ve got the fire back in you. Good. We need a little fight in our blood tonight. Now, I insist that you move. We must make it to the tunnel if we’re to have a chance. The man cost me a family. He won’t cost me a friend, too.”

  My breath catches on a sob, and Aleta shoves me again. “Enough. Tonight we’re both unbreakable.”

  As we slip between bushes, every pounding heartbeat is the tick of a clock. Every step, another few grains of sand in an hourglass. It’s like watching a crop of thunderclouds move in—there’s no escaping the storm, but no way of knowing when it will break.

  It’s quite different from how we left our rooms, me sure of my direction and spurring Aleta to follow me. Aleta leads the way now, blazing a trail.

  At least Da will make it out alive. Probably. I can still be happy about that.

  I put Da to the back of my mind. Aleta’s right. If we’re to make it through the night, much less make it out of the Egrian capital, we’ll both need to be fully possessed of all of our senses.

  The halls are miraculously sparse when we get back inside. When we arrive at our suite, the door is still vacant, the guard missing. Still at the ball? No, he’s surely realized that his charges have left by now. Something isn’t right. Putting a finger to my lips, I put my other hand out to stop Aleta, suspicions raised. Why would our guard still be absent? Unless…

  I strain my ears against the door but can’t hear anything inside save the whistling of the wind. We must have left the window—

  No. Not the window. The distinct sound of shuffling feet reaches my ears, and my eyes widen. Someone inside, I mouth to Aleta.

  Grimly, the princess raises her hand. A flame flickers to life in her palm. She nods.

  We’re as ready as we can be. I heave my shoulder at the door, and we burst inside.

  The window is closed, but the living area is a mess. The settee is overturned, Aleta’s rouge spattered against the wall. The washbasin is far from where it began the day, and its water soaks into the carpet.

  But there isn’t anyone in sight.

  Aleta drops her hand, and her fire shimmers from existence.

  I can’t shake the feeling of unease. The wind I could have sworn I heard from the hall is still—erily so, like the calm before a storm.

  “We need to go,” I say, senses flaring.

  By now, they’ve surely discovered that we aren’t in our rooms, and soon the entire palace will be on the hunt for us. Someone has been here. There’s a footprint where the washbasin spilled and—

  I feel it. My e
yes shoot to the darkened patch of rug. The water has different levels to it. I feel the shape of it, where it shifts and presses into the floor. I can sense where it’s been disturbed, molding to a foot above it. There’s more though. Water isn’t just in the air around us or confined to that small space. What am I missing?

  “I have been telling you,” Aleta says, striding toward her door. “If there’s anything you need, get it now.”

  “Wait,” I say, suddenly realizing what it is that I’ve missed. It isn’t just one footprint. “Aleta, someone—”

  Her bedroom door glides open.

  “—has been waiting for you to join the festivities.” Kat grins.

  The wet footprints led to Aleta’s bedroom door. I close my eyes for a moment, chastising myself. Stupid. Kat has us right where she wants us.

  Kat crosses her arms and taps her finger in the crook of her elbow. “You hadn’t been intending to leave us so soon, had you?”

  Aleta jumps back, fire flaring in her hand once more. Without hesitating, she flings the flames toward Kat’s head.

  The duchess laughs and bats them away, flames sailing through the air to alight upon the curtains. Once the flames have a taste of the velvet, they claw their way up it, consuming it like a rare dessert.

  We can’t waste time with this. It’s just Kat. Just one person. If she’s discovered our plans somehow, then time is all the more precious. Who knows what alarms she’s sounded? Who she’s told?

  The puddle on the floor flips feebly when I wave my arm. I should have practiced more. It’s just as Alys told me. Unfocused results are really no results at all.

  I slip the knife that I’d hidden away from my sleeve. The time has come. Somehow, I’ll have to get close enough to do this the old-fashioned way. I’d counted on fighting our way out but had prayed with all of my might that the Makers would spare us from Kat’s abilities. I say a silent prayer now that I hope they’ll listen to. Get us out of here. Please.