7. Ayna
Ayna
About three hours later, I’m no longer able to stand on my own feet. My dress weighs like it is soaked with water, my limbs shaky, and a pulsing pain hammers in my head. Thank the Guardians, Erina ordered me back to my chambers where I’m sitting on the chair by the window and focusing on Kaira in hopes of picking up anything from her end.
Naturally, I don’t expect anything to happen. Both our powers have been subdued, and I’m too far away from her to hear a whisper of her thoughts. I’m about to doze off in my chair when the door opens again. Jerking upright, I ball my hands into fists, an instinct from my time as a pirate that I won’t get rid of easily—good thing people usually don’t surprise me in my sleep.
“Lady Wolayna?” It’s the guard who took me to the throne room earlier, his forehead creased and jaw tight as if he’s actually worried I’ll strike him.
“Pouly,” I remember his name.
The man inclines his head. “You have been summoned.”
Stifling a groan, I push back to my feet, swaying for a moment before I manage a slow step. My head, however, I keep high, no matter what awaits me this time.
Pouly watches me with more nervousness than I care for.
“Is something the matter?” I try to keep my voice steady—without success.
In response, he slowly shakes his head. “This is a time-sensitive matter, so I’d appreciate it if you hurried.”
Doing the best I can to get back to my manipulative, controlling, and torturing fiancé , I want to retort, but hold my tongue, doing my best to walk toward him in a straight line instead. “I’m exhausted, Pouly. Perhaps there is a way you could send a servant ahead to deliver a message to Erina that I’ll be late.”
His gray brows raise. “The king has nothing to do with this. And there is truly no room for delay.”
Something about the way he meets me halfway across the room and slides an arm under my elbow to keep me steady is wrong. It’s a familiar gesture yet distanced enough to make it clear he’s a guard and I’m his charge.
“Hurry, Princess,” he murmurs as he helps me to the door, and I realize two things at once: First, he addressed me by the formal title I should hold in these lands, and second, he really isn’t taking me to Erina.
Instead of the wide ornate hallway and curved marble staircase to the throne room, Pouly takes me to a side corridor I’ve used before—the day Kaira, Clio, and I escaped from this palace.
“Where are you taking me?” What should sound like a protest comes out as a whisk of air.
“Not far, Princess Wolayna. We’ll be meeting the others soon.”
“What others?” I stumble over an uneven step as he takes me down another level of wooden staircase into another, even narrower corridor.
“Focus on walking. Questions will be answered in time.” He adjusts his grasp, sliding one arm around my waist while he opens a door with the other.
Darkness greets us alongside the humid odor of the dungeon.
Not the dungeon. Not the dungeon. Fear floods my veins, pushing back all reason, and my heart launches into a wild gallop. The last time I was brought into the dungeon without my request, I was strapped to a table next to Myron. The image of his blood-smeared body still haunts my sleep.
Digging in my heels, I fling my arm out, grabbing for anything I can use as an anchor so he can’t drag me any farther. What if, this time, they have Kaira on a table and I’m forced to watch her bleed again? What if?—
My hand finds iron bars and closes in reflex, clinging desperately to the metal. It’s my bad hand, though, and even at my full strength, my stiff wrist won’t allow me to hold on strong enough to outmatch Pouly, who utters a curse about how this should have been easy.
Whatever he means by that, I don’t care. I claw at him with both my hands as he detaches me from the bar and pulls me deeper into the dungeon.
“For the Guardians’ sake, Princess. Get yourself together. I’m trying to help you.”
At his words, my body sags until I am nothing more than a sack of potatoes, and my chest tightens with both hope and fear that he’s lying.
Before I can protest some more, or demand to know what is going on, we round a corner, and the shimmer of orange torchlight illuminates the space in front of us. There, Kaira sits huddled against the dirty brick wall, her face so dark with grime I barely recognize her, but her eyes find mine, and all panic ebbs away.
“You’re late,” a familiar voice greets from the corner of the room, making my head snap to the side to spot a woman in leather pants and a dark blouse. Her grizzled hair is what I recognize first; then, the slash of white that is her smile against the brown of her skin.
“Lady Andraya.” Pouly beats me to it, bowing his head as he delivers me to sit beside Kaira. “She’s in a bad state. I might need to carry her the rest of the way if we want to keep our schedule.”
I sag against the wall, Kaira’s arm snatching me up the same moment her voice enters my mind. “ Thank all the gods those Crows pray to that you weren ’ t discovered on your way here. ”
Tears shine in her eyes as she adjusts her position to face me. “ We ’ re getting out of here, Ayna. Andraya and Pouly are helping us.”
A million questions involving who they are, why they care, and why they would help in the first place, cross my mind, but Lady Andraya crouches before me, bracing, scrutinizing my face, the boneless sack I’ve become, and nods once at Pouly. “Carry her then. We have only a narrow time window before the guards get back from their rounds.”
Pouly apologizes as he scoops me up and unceremoniously throws me across his shoulder. “We’ll be out of here soon enough, and then you can try your own feet again,” he explains. “But for now, please don’t fight. We’re trying to help you.”
Kaira’s encouraging nod convinces me this is not a trick and we’re actually being broken out of this prison. “ We ’ ll be all right.”
I don’t fully believe Kaira as we make our way down a narrow hallway, Lady Andraya leading with a torch in hand and Kaira right behind us, her hand gripping mine whenever the path allows it. The humid air smells less of decay by the second, something I notice only as I allow myself to breathe through the uncomfortable jostling on the guard’s shoulder.
“I thought you were Erina’s guard,” I whisper, anxious not to make noise that would draw anyone’s attention.
“I am.”
My stomach tightens with the sort of nausea coming with betrayal I’m all too familiar with by now, but I swallow it down at a soothing squeeze of Kaira’s hand .
“ You ’ ll learn everything once we ’ re out,” she speaks into my mind. “ They got me out of my cell; they ’ ll get both of us out of this shit hole.”
It doesn’t ease the fears of being discovered, of being returned to Erina’s or Ephegos’s feet, or of the pain that follows any disobedience, but if my sister trusts them, I’ll trust them. She’s gotten me out of here before.
I don’t know how long we’ve been walking by the time the corridor ends in another wall and Pouly sets me to my feet. Immediately, Kaira’s arm falls around me, steadying me even when she’s unstable on her own legs.
“Here is the key.” Pouly extracts a small, dark piece of metal from his pocket, fiddling with it in what looks like a crack in the wall but, in reality, seems to be some sort of keyhole. Because, a moment later, the wall swings back, silent like a ghost, revealing a tunnel wide enough to fit an armed guard.
“This is an emergency exit for the royalty residing in this palace.” He gestures at the slab of rock that moves effortlessly at a touch. I only realize it is stone attached to a wooden door, like a door hidden in a bookshelf, when Lady Andraya ducks into the darkness first, making the light from her torch dance along the opening. “It was built in by the early Milevishja kings to get their court to safety in case of a siege. I’m not certain the current king knows it exists.”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t.” Kaira slides into the tunnel after Lady Andraya, letting go of me as Pouly lifts me over his shoulder once more. “This is brilliant. How far out does it take us? ”
“I would be surprised if he did. And these tunnels are long forgotten by the current royals of Tavras. All the way to the city walls.” Pouly’s voice is muffled as he follows the two women’s lead, careful not to hit my head on the rough stone wall as he turns to shut the door behind us.
We all heave a deep breath.
“Let’s get out of here.” Lady Andraya waves us on, setting a pace I would never have been able to make by myself. “I have a carriage waiting.”
I don’t ask for details, don’t even want to know as long as we make it out of here. Everything else can wait.
Stale air wafts past with every step, telling stories of ancient kings I might not even know the names of—kings whose blood runs in my veins—while three sets of footsteps tell a new story. That of our escape.
After what feels like an eternity, the tunnel makes a turn left, gradually climbing until it ends in a set of stairs, which in turn ends in wooden double doors tilted above our heads.
“This is it.” I could swear I hear a victorious smile in Lady Andraya’s voice as she lifts her hand to knock on the wood, which looks ready to crumble, and I hold my breath as the doors swing open, collapsing halfway, and debris and earth rain down on us.
Pouly staggers back, grabbing Kaira by the arm at the last moment and dragging her away from the avalanche while Lady Andraya presses against the wall, narrowly escaping the heap of soil attempting to bury us. Dust climbs into my nose, making breathing a difficult endeavor, and I cough, eyes watering as I blink against pink and purple light streaming in through the wide hole where the door had blocked our path.
“Let us help you out, Lady Andraya,” a voice says, and I only realize Pouly had his sword drawn when he sheathes it, obviously trusting the man who’s bending over the opening, holding out a hand for the lady who’s brushing the dirt off her blouse.
Lady Andraya climbs out with the man’s help; then they pull Kaira up together, assisting her with her slow steps across the unstable heap covering the withered stairs. At last, Pouly drags me off his shoulder, handing me into two pairs of hands ready to lift me out of the tunnel. By the time I’m laid down on the grass beside where Kaira is panting for air, Pouly has climbed out after us, and two men in dark, inconspicuous brown clothing cover the entrance with shrubs and dried grass.
“You can rest in the carriage,” Lady Andraya comments, helping me to my feet and guiding me to the cabin of what looks like a carriage merchants use to transport goods of low value. I barely take notice of the hedges growing beside the tunnel or the tall walls rising behind it. Lady Andraya is adamant enough to stuff me into the cabin within heartbeats, Kaira following suit before the lady climbs in after us while Pouly takes the reigns. She knocks on the roof with a fist, and the vehicle sets in motion with a soft sway.
We made it. We’re actually out of the palace.
“All right,” Lady Andraya says with a smile as mischievous as a little girl stealing candy. “It’s time to hear the full truth, Princess Wolayna.”