Chapter 20
Twenty
We knock on Elodie’s chamber door just after sundown the following day.
She and she looks so different from the glamorous, giggling courtier I’m used to, I almost don’t recognize her.
Her braids are wrapped up in a silk bonnet, her eyes have been scrubbed clean of kohl, and instead of a glittering gown, she’s dressed in an old floral robe that makes her looks like the younger sister of the noblewoman who flounces about the queen’s salon.
“Indira!” She fingers her bonnet self-consciously.
“Did we have plans? I confess, it must have slipped my mind.” She glances from me to Delphine, who’s carrying the tray of tea and scones I requested, to the pair of guards I asked to escort us here—so there’s no debate about where I spent my evening.
“No, this is a surprise visit,” I say with an apologetic smile. “I’ve brought sweets in exchange for advice. Turns out I don’t know the first thing about being a wife or pleasing a prince.” I shrug helplessly and make a pleading face. “But if it’s a bad time, I can come back.”
“Don’t be silly. I always have time for my dearest friend—especially when you need this sort of advice.” Elodie ushers me in with a wink and an excited clap, and her genuine enthusiasm to help me at a moment’s notice prods me with an unexpected finger of guilt.
Don’t forget, she could have ulterior motives, I remind myself. I still don’t have proof that she wasn’t part of Rowenna’s demise. She could be the most cunning threat on this mountain. The wolf, masquerading as a lamb.
Elodie ushers me into a gaudy sitting room with pink-striped wallpaper, delicate crystal statues, and half a dozen framed portraits of Elodie and her mother. She seats me on one of the enormous lounge pillows covering the floor and flounces down beside me.
“Tell me everything.”
I launch into a dramatic tale about my wifely failings all while stuffing Elodie so full of pastries, and my specially concocted tea, that she’s snoring soundly in less than an hour and should remain that way until midmorning.
Delphine melts away from the wall and helps me lug Elodie into bed.
Then we raid her closet for heavy boots and fur-lined cloaks before crossing to the nearest window.
The sun set hours ago, and the moon looks like a sliver from my bitten nails, making the shadows deep and impenetrable.
Elodie’s rooms are closer to the ground and far more conducive to sneaking out than my solid-rock chamber.
There’s even a ledge to shuffle along, which leads to a turret we can use for cover as we climb down to the street.
Delphine opens the casement and leans out, glancing right and left. “The guards should be busy chasing chickens that just so happened to escape their coop and wander into the courtyard where King Soren keeps his hunting dogs. So the coast should be clear—if you’re ready?” She peers back at me.
I nod once, afraid the roiling anxiety in my stomach will spew out if I open my mouth.
There are so many ways this could go wrong.
After a deep breath and a trepidatious look of her own, Delphine slips out onto the ledge.
I follow, keeping my eyes fixed on a far-off watchtower so I’m not tempted to look down.
It isn’t the drop that grabs me by the throat and makes me shudder, though.
It’s the frigid mountain air. When you spend all day cocooned in glass and stone, it’s easy to forget these breathtaking views come at the cost of punishing wind and cold.
My teeth instantly begin to chatter, and my legs are slow and shaky, despite the extra clothing I borrowed from Elodie.
I only manage to shuffle one step in the time Delphine takes five.
I don’t know how she’s moving so swiftly or easily, especially since she didn’t borrow any extra clothing for herself.
She insisted she didn’t need it, and judging by her easy progress, it’s true.
But it contradicts everything Alaric taught me about their culture.
Someone as physically weak and low in status as Delphine shouldn’t be able to withstand such bitter cold.
And wasn’t her supposed clumsiness the thing that got her and Rowenna caught the night Delphine followed my sister up the mountain?
Yet, here she is, navigating the turret wall as effortlessly as a salamander climbing a rocky embankment.
A full-bodied shiver grips me, and I stop shuffling.
“What’s the matter?” Delphine asks when she realizes I’ve fallen even farther behind. “Do you need help?”
I don’t have a clue how to answer because, once again, I don’t know if my worries are legitimate or if I’m so paranoid and jaded, I’m sabotaging a perfectly good opportunity to find answers.
There could be logical explanations for every little discrepancy. My perception of cold and climbing ability obviously aren’t the same as the Vanzadorians, for starters. But I could also be so desperate for answers and assistance, I’m willfully overlooking warning signs.
There’s a very real possibility I am following Rowenna’s killer to my own demise.
What should I do? I silently ask my sister. Can this girl be trusted?
Rowenna doesn’t answer for a long moment, and when she does, her voice sounds even softer and farther away than the last time we spoke. Why ask me? You’ve decided you can’t trust this version of me, remember?
It isn’t like that! You have to understand…
Delphine snaps my name, bringing me back to the ledge.
“Do you want me to take you up the mountain or not? The longer we stand here, the more likely we’ll be caught.
” She points to the city streets below, where shadowy men and women bustle between lamplit homes and shops.
Right now, their heads are bowed against the wind, but they could look up any second and spot us.
“This was your idea,” Delphine adds with a frustrated huff, and that’s what finally uproots my feet. She didn’t lure me out here. I begged her to take me up the mountain. Even if she somehow manipulated me into thinking it was all my idea, it’s still my best chance to learn about Rowenna.
Potentially my only chance.
I set my teeth and force myself to move, following Delphine closely as we pick our way down the turret wall. Once our feet are on the ground, she allows me exactly one minute to catch my breath before she sets off at a breakneck pace, leading me through the maze of snow-dusted streets.
I expect the wealth and opulence of Vanzador to decline, now that we’re no longer within the palace walls, but even the broader Fortress is far more lavish and inviting than I could have imagined.
Lovely stone cottages line the well-manicured lanes, each home painted a bright pastel with coordinating shutters and a neat little gravel yard.
Some even have small stone tables and slides for the children.
There are streetlamps on every corner, and the shops are tidy and clean, built one on top of the next like children’s blocks.
It has a homey feeling. The type of city where neighbors say hello and borrow eggs and sugar.
The sort where a person would feel safe walking alone after dark.
A far cry from the bleak, inhospitable slums Rowenna described in her letters.
Yet another glaring lie.
Delphine stops suddenly as a group of weary, soot-streaked miners trudge through the cross street.
I slam into Delphine’s back, which is surprisingly solid given her bony frame.
I’m even more surprised when she claps a hand over my mouth and easily drags me into the shadow of the nearest shop, pressing my shoulders against the freezing stones.
“Pay attention! If you do that on the switchbacks up the mountain, we’ll both fall to our death.”
Like Rowenna.
We’re both thinking it, and Delphine’s face immediately softens. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”
“Do you really think that’s what happened?” I don’t know why I ask. Her opinion doesn’t matter, and I know better than to trust it. I guess I’m just desperate for validation. I need someone else to tell me Ro didn’t fall. That I’m not doing all of this for nothing.
Delphine’s golden braid sways with the sharp shake of her head.
“Do you think I’d be out here if I thought she fell?
The Rowenna I knew was far too nimble to make such a careless mistake.
Everything she did was measured, calculated.
There’s a reason she was sneaking up the mountain, a reason someone wanted her dead, and we’re going to find it.
Then you’re going to find a cure for Cloudia. ”
She says this so definitively, it almost sounds like a threat.
I swallow hard against the swelling knot in my throat. I fully intend to do my best for Cloudia. If I can keep anyone from suffering the all-consuming grief of losing a sister, I will. But I’m no healer, and I’m beginning to worry I’ve promised too much.
Delphine watches me for another long moment, and it’s all I can do not to crawl out of my skin.
At last, she turns and climbs a steep road leading to the outermost wall of the Fortress.
A pair of guards are playing dice near a gate, and we slip past them to a section of wall conveniently hidden behind a laundress shop.
It happens to be quite a bit lower here, to allow a pipe to vent steam out into the dark, and the constant hiss dampens our footsteps.
The thick haze conceals us as we scramble over the wall.
It’s all so disconcertingly convenient. So perfectly planned. Like this is something Delphine has done a hundred times rather than somewhere she followed Rowenna once.