Chapter Eleven
Which Contains Plans Conceived in Darkness
The next day’s dawn brought thick clouds with it. Though palpably warmer, the imminent threat of rain would no doubt ruin their plans to meet in the woods.
Despite her constant fretting the night before—and the accompanying movement that finally induced Chara to leave and sleep in her parents’ room—Tasia had been unable to think of an excuse to leave the house today.
In the end, it didn’t matter. Mother Anthi and Chara had been invited somewhere for one of the last shared play times before the snows hit, Stavros had disappeared right after breakfast, and Pagona left soon after that, though not before bragging about getting to see the cider stash at Bunny’s house.
From what Tasia could gather, none of the young ladies would be tasting any of the village-renowned cider at this time; they were just enjoying the privilege of seeing the barrels.
Comparing the difference between what rural folks and city dwellers did for excitement distracted Tasia from her worries long enough to reach the meeting place. Since it was the same spot that she and Mitch met up, and returned to, each week, she found it without trouble.
At first, she only saw Prince Frank. Then the man she most wanted to see stepped out of a shadow, causing her heart to race in a silly manner.
“We can’t discuss things in the rain,” Mitch said by way of a greeting. “I know a place.”
Tasia wondered if Prince Frank knew what a gift the wolf-man was offering by forgoing the grunts to use real words. And more than ten words, at that!
The Diomlanders followed Mitch on a roundabout path that kept them fairly out of sight and ended at the ersatz library.
By then, the clouds had darkened to an ominous deep gray, and it felt like twilight.
Some careful jiggling with an object Tasia couldn’t see soon let Mitch open the door.
He ushered them in while watching the road, then swiftly shut the door after letting himself in.
The time it took to jimmy the lock allowed Tasia to read the small sign on the door, which informed library patrons that visiting hours were up to the discretion of the librarian.
She got the feeling that said discretion was arbitrary and did not favor inclement weather.
Fortunately, the business that shared a wall with the library was also dark and empty.
“We can’t risk being seen.” Mitch spoke for the first time since leading them here.
He pulled a thick pillow from the single chair in the room and set it on the floor next to a wall away from the window.
Prince Frank followed his hand motion and sat on the floor near the pillow.
Tasia moved to do the same but was redirected by Mitch’s hand on her shoulder and found herself on the cushion that was more comfortable than it looked.
Mitch then settled in on her other side, close enough to bump knees, if she felt so inclined.
Tasia’s cloak protected her from the damp coolness.
As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, the sense of casual wrongdoing sent a delicious thrill racing through her limbs.
She bit her lip to hold back the foolish smile that would be hard to explain and rubbed her arms. Mitch looked concerned, so she waved him off with a real smile, then realized he could miss that in the near dark and touched his arm instead. She turned to Prince Frank.
“You’re a prince. What can you do?” After tossing and turning for too many hours, she came to the conclusion that the only royal in their midst should have the authority and knowledge to deal with this sort of situation.
The dimness prevented her from seeing his face clearly, but he shifted in a way that suggested his discomfort wasn’t caused by the floor alone. “Technically, I’m not supposed to be here,” he began.
“Why?” Tasia interrupted without thinking. “Beg pardon. Please continue.”
“Bavenpier has a thing about foreign royalty making themselves known to the palace before visiting or traveling through,” Prince Frank explained. “Since I came here incognito, I could cause Diomland a lot of trouble if I try to throw my weight around.”
“Huh.” Tasia wasn’t sure what to do with that information. Mitch continued to hold his peace at her side. Maybe that made the prince uncomfortable, because he felt the need to elaborate.
“Ha—” He coughed. “I have a friend with . . . royal connections who believes that policy is part of the queen’s paranoia, but whatever it is, my hands are tied.”
“How royal are your friend’s connections?” Mitch rumbled.
Prince Frank’s tone was wary. “Pretty royal.”
Mitch didn’t leave them in suspense for long. “Royal enough to have the ear of a squadron of guards? Or the army?”
“Ahh, now there’s an idea.” Frank moved his hand to his face, and Tasia’s eyes had adjusted to the point that she thought he was scratching his chin as he thought.
Mitch sat beside Tasia, still and unbothered while the prince pondered, whereas she had to sit on her hands to keep from fiddling with the hem of her cloak.
“Yes,” Prince Frank said, “yes, I think that can be arranged, but I would have to go in person, and it would take time to get there, explain the situation, mobilize a unit, and bring it back.”
“The winter dance is in three weeks.” Tasia pulled her hands out from under herself to fold them together. “Is that enough time?”
“I was just going to ask how much we had. If I leave today, I think I can make it work.” The royal’s voice came across as placating, which had the unfortunate effect of riling Tasia up more.
“Then you need to leave now!” She bounced on the cushion, increasing the scent of dust in the air tenfold.
A light touch at her back helped center her.
Mitch kept his hand there as he spoke to Prince Frank without looking at her.
She used the distraction to reel her emotions back in.
Now was an unfortunate time to learn that she didn’t handle constant worry very well.
The names and details that Mitch was confirming with the prince flittered past her ears without stopping by her memory as she focused on breathing with intent.
“Thank you for the refresher. I wrote down the details I could remember last night; I’m happy to report I didn’t forget anything.
” Tasia thought the men were taking their time for her sake, an idea more or less confirmed when Prince Frank leaned closer to look in her face before continuing.
“I will head out soon. But I can’t leave without making sure you two have a plan for the next few weeks. ”
Mitch’s grunt sounded appreciative to Tasia’s ears.
Tasia blew out a sharp breath. “Thank you, Prince Frank.” The brief break and her purposeful breaths helped ground her. “As far as I can tell, there are a few things that we need to figure out in order to move forward.”
“Where do you suggest we start?” Mitch asked in a way that suggested he was keen to do so.
“Oh. Well—” She looked between the two of them as well as she was able. The clouds hadn’t released their load yet and, impossibly, the cramped library felt even darker than before. “I’m sure one of you has a better idea—”
“Doubt it,” Mitch cut in. “We’ll start our discussion in the order you think best.”
Tasia felt both the weight of that expectation and a lightness borne of his belief in her ability to lead the exchange.
That dichotomy led her to spill out her thoughts in a rush.
“Well, it would be good to work out how the fire thing is going to happen so we can figure out how to stop it; finding the inside man would definitely help with that—I think—and with stopping anyone from consuming the filemu, which I would like to find a way to ruin so that Grandmother can’t use the next few deliveries. ”
As soon as she stopped to catch her breath, her heart sank. Despite how much of a fool her family thought her to be, she had nursed the hope that they were wrong. That display did nothing to disprove it.
“The fire is a good place to start,” Prince Frank agreed, graciously glossing over the rest of her word vomit. “They would want it to spread fast. Probably start in multiple places at once.”
Mitch and Frank carried the next part of the conversation.
Tasia could start a fire in the stove, but she had never done it outside and usually had leftover coals to start with.
The men determined that Grandmother’s thugs would most likely set up a number of flammable ignition points around the village, using easy-to-disguise or innocuous containers of some sort that could be filled with fire-starting materials to help it spread.
Mitch would be able to investigate at night and maybe dismantle them.
“From my own experience, and your comments,” Prince Frank segued, “it doesn’t seem very realistic that you will be able to warn the villagers and solicit their help. Or suss out the inside man.”
Tasia and Mitch tried to exchange a glance, but they were thwarted by the gloom that hadn’t lightened as torrents of water were finally released from the clouds. She thought they both shook their heads at the same time.
Turning back to the prince, she confirmed what he’d said. “Anything we say would be ignored—”
“Or used to run us out of town,” Mitch interjected.
“Or used to run us out of town,” Tasia agreed. “Uncovering the traitor’s identity won’t happen, either, except by accident. I’m afraid protecting the village is up to us. And the army.”
“I’m going soon, I promise,” Prince Frank said. “The next thing you mentioned was stopping people from being subjected to the filemu, correct?”
Warmed that he had remembered the pertinent details of her rapid-fire gibberish (and in the right order), Tasia nodded. Then recalled that he couldn’t see much and said, “Yes.”