Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
A ct like you belong, and no one will suspect a thing.
I mentally repeated the mantra as I hoisted the sack I carried higher over my shoulder. It had taken all morning and half of the afternoon, but I’d managed to get everything I needed, and then some. Now, all I had to do was get back to Moll without anyone noticing me and my sack of goods.
A guard strode out of the nearest alley, his helmet turning side to side, searching. I sucked in a breath as he locked his eyes on me but let it out when he wrinkled his nose in disgust rather than calling out to me.
To him, I must’ve looked like any other resident of The Smudge, certainly not of the ilk to be worthy of the King’s attentions, never mind anyone capable of killing him. The guard’s eyes registered disdain, not careful scrutiny. I tugged my hat lower over my eyes and started walking again until the sudden sound of frantic footsteps on stone behind me sent my pulse hammering.
Had that guard changed his mind and circled back with some of his friends?
I took a half step to start running, when a group of teen boys nearly bowled me over as they passed, one catching me in the shoulder and grabbing at my sack.
“Fuck off with you brats!” I let out a huff of air, heart pattering hard. I spared a quick glance toward the sky to make sure Fetch still circled. He tipped his head and gave a solid side-eye. I wiggled my fingers at him as I muttered under my breath. “I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying.”
I didn’t want to take the same path back to the hunting shack, so I took the long way, zigging and zagging to make sure I wasn’t followed.
Along the way, Fetch snagged a couple of rabbits, and I found a bush of purple winterberries that filled up a small satchel. All and all, things were going even better than I could have hoped.
But by the time I got back bearing all the booty I’d managed to trade for the rabbits and berries, I was physically and mentally exhausted. Fetch’s talons found my shoulder, and he settled his comforting weight there just as I nudged the door open with the toe of my boot.
“Moll?” I called softly. “You alright?”
The breath left me in a whoosh as something hit me center mass and I stumbled, grabbing at the door frame to keep us both upright. Fetch squawked and flew off to the rafters.
“Thank gods! Bloody hell, I had myself fully convinced you were in the town square being pelted with stones as they marched you about before they guillotined your head clean off.” Her voice was pitched higher than usual, the panic clear.
Initially, I’d had to drop everything I’d been holding, but it was Moll’s iron grip around my waist that kept me on my feet now. I slipped my arms around her and gave her a squeeze.
“Well, lucky for both of us my head is still attached. In fact, things went better than I expected.”
“Really?” she croaked, stepped back and pulled me inside.
I did my best to keep my face neutral and pretended I didn’t notice her reddened cheeks, still damp with tears. She’d been through something horrible the night before, and I hadn’t been there to stop it. How many times had we promised to look out for each other? A hundred at least.
So, while I knew the feeling was irrational, it didn’t break guilt’s hold on me. She was like my sister. And the idea of her with that bastard pawing at her was more than I could bear right now.
In a feat of will, I pushed the dark thoughts aside.
One day she’d be ready to talk about what had happened. And when she was, I would be there to listen.
“What have you got? Some daintiques?” she asked, with a forced smile.
I turned the bag on its head, letting the fake leg, wooden crutch I’d fashioned out of a downed branch, and the pile of clothes drop to the floor.
She cocked her head, a frown dipping her eyebrows as she picked up the fake leg. “What’s that for?”
“They’re looking for the person who stabbed the king with their left shoe. They have the murder weapon in hand. They can’t try it on someone with no leg, and it would be hard to suspect you because what would you be doing with a left-footed shoe anyway? It should fit easily over your leg. Might make walking a little awkward but shouldn’t be too uncomfortable.”
She let out a snort, her eyes showing a hint of life for the first time. “Only you would think of something like this, Harm.”
Encouraged, I yanked the first of today’s inventions from my pocket. I held the candle-sized rod out to her with a grin. The scrap metal at the blacksmith’s had proved to be more than enough for my idea.
“And then there’s this. I’m calling it ‘The Incapacitator’. This is what took me so long. I had to work my time off in the forge.”
She eyed the device suspiciously. “What is it?”
“A weapon. It’s not perfect, but it’s something. It’s got a telescoping pole attached so if you need to use it on someone, they don’t need to be super close. You press this button, it shoots out, and then you just flip the switch, here.” I gestured toward the makeshift metal slider at the base of the handle.
Sparks danced through the air between two prongs as she turned it away from me and pressed it.
She let out a yelp and flinched as said sparks spit and bit like a caged animal.
“Whoa!”
“Exactly. It only has so many uses, and I’m not sure if I can recharge it, so only engage when necessary. Last resort sort of deal.” I stomped at an ember that was spreading on a nearby bundle of hay.
She flipped it off, but she continued staring at the thing, entranced. “Is it… deadly?”
“Not deadly, but probably make a man shit himself, and stop a horse in its tracks.”
Or a king.
I cursed myself for not giving her such a thing sooner. It’d taken only a couple hours to make, and it might’ve prevented all of this.
She turned to face me. “Thank you, Harm. This will help if ever—” she cut off abruptly, as her eyes filled with tears.
“It won’t ever again, okay Moll? We’ll make sure of it.” I brought a hand to her shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile when she raised her head. She held the device reverently, giving it a final look before stuffing it into her bra.
I grabbed the bundle of clothes from the ground and tugged out a spotted orange dress.
“Then, we’ve got this. Great, right?”
She sputtered as she stared at the new-to-us dress, her face cycling through a dozen different emotions before landing solidly on horror. “Wh-What’re we going to do with that?”
“It’s for you. It’s nothing like you’d normally wear.”
“Oh my word. Yes, you’re certainly right about that.” She bit her lip and nodded, reaching out to grab the dress between her thumbs and forefingers as if it were covered in filth. “Ummm…Okay.”
I pulled my own dress from the bag as well. “Maybe this’ll make you feel better.” She gawked as I held up a yellow dress with red and green berries, equally horrid as the other. “See, this one’s mine.”
Her lips twitched and she nearly smiled. “To be seen with you while you’re wearing that is bad enough for both of us.”
I laughed. “Agreed. Hopefully, anyone seeing us will be so distracted by my ugly dress, they won’t look at you at all…But, in case they do…”
I held my breath as I bent to retrieve a small bottle of black dye and a pair of scissors that had been in the pile of steel. I’d sharpened them before I’d left the forge, knowing that this would be the worst part for Moll.
For a long moment, she looked perplexed, but then she drew back with a gasp, her hands going to her mouth.
“Harm, I can’t!” She shook her head furiously and squeezed her eyes closed.
“Moll…”
“A wig, yes. But…My hair?—”
I slice my hand through the air to stop her short. “Moll, we stabbed the fucking King. This transcends fashion. We have to survive now, whatever it takes! Your hair can and will grow back. Your head, and mine, won’t.”
Her gorgeous red mane was a point of pride for her and always had been. Something beautiful that even poverty couldn’t take from her. Now I had to, and I fucking hated it.
I saw the moment she accepted her fate, and pride filled me.
She drew her shoulders back and opened her eyes, leveling me with a hard stare. “Okay. Okay, we’ll cut and dye it. And once we’re done with all this, we blend in. What then?”
Some of the tension left me as we got down to business. I motioned for her to sit in the rickety chair and set to cutting off her locks, swallowing hard as I made the first snip.
Molly flinched with each shush of the blades.
I cleared my throat and tried to make conversation to distract her. “If we keep a low profile, we should be alright for now. They’re on a wild goose chase unless we give them something else to go off. I’ve run through everything that happened last night in my head a hundred times, and I can’t think of anything else we might’ve missed.” I shook my head slowly. “I don’t see how they’d be able to tie this to us in any way—even with the glass slipper.”
“What about getting back to The Hollow?” she asked, looking back at me, her brow wrinkling with concern. “We’re not just on the run for stabbing the King, Harm. We aren’t allowed to be in Little Alabaster in the first place.”
“It’s not going to be easy with them actually guarding the Cradle gate now, but I went to The Smudge today—that’s where I got all the supplies—and I think we can blend in really easily there. I think we should head back there as soon as we’re done here and find a place to stay for a couple of days so we can play it off like we’re residents while I work the second half of my plan. I have a lead on some people who might be able to help us get back to The Hollow.”
Moll’s eyes lit with hope. “Really?”
I gently turned her head away so I could keep on snipping. “A family of smugglers, apparently. I’m hoping to meet up with them tomorrow.”
I had hemmed and hawed the whole way back about whether or not to mention Gayelette and opted for the latter. I was shaken to the core by the woman’s knowledge and more than a little confused by her advice. Until I figured out whether it was the rantings of a nut-job like Preacher Pete or some truly sage advice from a powerful Whisper, I was going to keep it to myself. We needed to stay focused on what was most important.
Keeping Moll incognito.
She cocked her head. “How was The Smudge, anyway?”
I paused in my snipping to scratch the tip of my nose. “Not much better than The Hollow, to be honest.”
She snorted. “Hard to believe.”
“Apparently, they’ve even taken to hiding it with some sort of magical shroud. It looks like a wall, but then you can just walk right through it.”
“Seriously?” She let out a bark of laughter. “They don’t want to make the fancy residents of Little Alabaster have to look at where the peasants live.” She settled back, sighing once again as she glanced at the dress I’d gotten for her. “Speaking of eyesores…”
I touched her shortened curls and tried not to wince at the sheer amount of hair on the floor by my feet. “Time for the dye.”
I squeezed in the dark liquid, a drop at a time, sending her deep red to a pitch black. “We’re going to be okay, Moll. I know it,” I said as I finished up the dye job. “Once we rinse out your hair, we can have a quick bite to eat. Then, we’ll make our way to The Smudge. I think I know of a place we might be able to stay for the night. Then, tomorrow, I can try to find the people who can help us.”
…And a way to pay them for their ‘kindness’. I gulped down my own doubts, keeping a brave face for her.
Molly nodded, though her eyes were locked on the red curls strewn about the floor. I bent and gathered them up and stuffed them under the mattress.
“There. Done.”
Only it wasn’t done.
This terrifying ordeal had only just begun, and I suspected we both knew it…
An hour later, with my hands cleaned of dye, and Moll’s hair unrecognizable, I felt decidedly less confident as we meandered back toward The Smudge. Fetch flew ahead, circling back to us every few minutes.
“I still say we go with bear attack,” Moll said. It was slow going with her on the prosthetic with crutches, and we didn’t dare have her walk without them in case someone saw us. So long as we kept moving, we’d make it into The Smudge before dark.
Moll talked my ear off the whole time, trying to come up with a backstory for her prosthetic. And I was more than happy to let her, if it helped her get her mind off of things.
I shot her a quick side-eye and marveled again at the change. With the dark, shorter hair curled tight around her pale face, and her hideous, oversized dress, she wouldn’t merit a glance from these people.
“I feel like word of a bear attack would’ve spread when it happened, though. Wouldn’t people wonder why they hadn’t heard of it?”
“It happened years ago,” Moll reasoned. “When my mother and I were on a walk foraging for mushrooms, maybe.”
“The more detailed you make the story, the harder it will be to remember,” I reminded her gently.
“Well, what do you want me to tell them, then?”
“I’m not anticipating a whole ton of people demanding to know where your leg went, to be frank.”
She rolled her eyes and continued on, “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Fancy people aren’t as polite as they pretend to be. I want to make sure I’m ready when asked, is all.”
Her problem was thinking that The Smudge was so much better than the Hollows that people would notice us. And after my trip into town, I was certain that was not going to be the case.
When we finally reached Little Alabaster’s cobbled street, the late afternoon sun had started to set, and the crowd had begun to thin. We kept our heads down as I led the way toward the magical shroud that led to The Smudge.
We turned a final corner, and the wall of The Smudge came into view, straight across from us. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. We’d made it, just a few more feet and we’d be able to dive into the masses that looked just like us. I held up my hand and Fetch dropped, landing on my arm.
“Let’s go.” I took a step and Moll limped along with me.
But fate was not done with us yet. A large caravan of guards rolled down the street, headed right toward us, their direction cutting off our entry-point if we didn’t hurry. Residents of Little Alabaster were all around, and guards seemed to be posted on every corner. There was nowhere to hide. The only way out was through the shroud. We just had to hope our disguises held and keep moving.
“Eyes down,” I muttered, putting a bit more confidence into my stride as I continued forward.
Dozens of guards marched in tight formation around a horse-drawn carriage, and we stepped off to the side of the street to give them a wide berth. I reached for Moll’s hand, preparing to continue our move as the last set of guards approached.
We were nearly in the clear. Now, all that was left was to?—
“Halt.”
My blood ran cold, fight or flight instinct in full effect as I spun to face the source of the command. “Yes?”
The nearest guard had his eyes fixed directly on us, and he gestured for us to approach. “Smudgers,” he muttered to his partner.
He stalked forward to meet us, and Moll shrank back as he hulked over us threateningly.
“What business brings you to this side of the shroud? On your way to work or on your way back home?”
“She…doesn’t speak,” I blurted, cutting in as Molly opened her mouth to reply. I cleared my throat. “She took a vow of silence several years back.” Her fingernails dug even deeper into my hand, but I ignored it. “Doubt her voice would even work now if she tried.”
He looked her up and down, then shrugged. “Then you do the speaking for her. What brings you here?”
“I’m a falconer,” I said, gesturing to Fetch. “I was hoping to purchase a new leather glove as mine is tattered, but the prices were too high.”
He glanced up at the darkening sky, gesturing toward it. “Cutting it pretty close to curfew, ain’t ya?”
“We’re on our way back home now.”
He grunted, and his dark eyes drilled into me. “How long were you out of The Smudge?”
“Just a couple of hours.” My sense of dread deepened as the caravan came to a sudden halt.
“Have you not heard the news?”
The door to the nearest carriage swung open, and I braced myself. Despite preparing for the worst, my knees nearly buckled when Prince Duncan stepped out onto the cobbled street. Memories of the jubilee flooded my mind even as blood rushed to my cheeks.
His strong hands at my waist. That damnable dimple flashing. His firm lips as he leaned in close, warm breath fanning my mouth…
Stop it.
How could I be thinking about any of that? We were in deep shit right now. Sure, I’d lost the blonde wig, and my dress was ugly as sin, but he’d know me the second our eyes met. And he’d know for sure that I hadn’t belonged at that ball…
There would be no time for explanations or pleas. Either I was going to wait and die here on the streets like a lamb at the slaughter, or make a move, and go down fighting.
My free hand twitched toward the knife fastened to my thigh. Before I could complete the motion, Duncan’s smoky eyes met mine. His nostrils flared, and his brows rose high on his forehead, but a second later, his face went oddly blank.
“Why have we stopped moving, Baldric?” he demanded, turning his attention back to the guard who had stopped us. “Night is nearly upon us, our party is weary, and we are done with the try-ons for the day.”
Baldric’s demeanor changed immediately, and he saluted as his prince approached. “Just interviewing these two, my liege. They haven’t been checked for foot size yet.” He reached into the satchel over his shoulder and pulled an all-too-familiar, crystalline shoe.
A puff of air escaped Moll’s mouth as a squeak, and I gripped her hand like a vise.
Hold it together, my friend…
The shoe wouldn’t fit me, but we couldn’t have anyone taking too close a look at Moll’s leg, either.
The prince circled us both, narrowing his eyes. My muscles stretched taut as his gaze caught on Moll’s prosthetic. Fetch’s talons pressed into my shoulder right through the pad, as if he sensed my stress. But the prince drew back after a moment, lips curled in disdain, so different from the easy charm he’d displayed at the ball.
“Don’t bother with the shoe. It certainly isn’t either of them. Heinrich would never…” He clapped Baldric on the arm. “Let’s be on our way.”
I swallowed hard as the blood rushed in my ears. Either he hadn’t recognized me and was showing his true colors, or he was pretending because he wanted to help me.
But if so, why? His brother had just been killed. Red hair or no, surely, seeing a woman who had clearly snuck into the jubilee would at least make him want to double check that she hadn’t been the murderer?
There was no time to ponder our good fortune. I should just be grateful that the universe hadn’t seen fit to blow this up in my face like one of my bang ‘em ups. Before he reached the carriage, though, a deep, gravelly voice cut through the air.
“I’d like a quick word with them, Prince Duncan.”
A second man stepped from the carriage. His hair was fully gray, but there was something youthful about him nonetheless with his taut smooth skin, and his coal black eyes that seemed to stare into my soul. I’d never seen him up close, but his long, black robes speckled with gold stars gave him away.
Relyk, the palace sorcerer. I’d heard of his powers, which supposedly far surpassed any average Whisper. While I dismissed much of the talk as idle gossip, it was true enough that his magic kept the mantises from flying into our cities and dragging citizens over the Great Wall in droves. Cissy had been the first near-victim this year, so he must’ve been doing something right.
I waited for him to speak but he just stood there, flicking a gaze between me and Fetch and then back again. It lasted so long that sweat broke out on my upper lip, and I had to swipe it away on the sly as I dropped into a shaky curtsy.
“What can we do for you, Sir?”
“The falcon on your shoulder seems well trained to sit quietly in all this commotion. Does he follow your commands?”
“He does.” Anxiety prickled at my skin as I tried to piece together what he was getting at.
“We could use another falconer, my prince. Old Bertrand isn’t getting any younger.”
Duncan shrugged his broad shoulders and frowned. “Hardly seems like the time to be hiring staff with all that’s going on…”
“And still, with a need for swift means of communication now more than ever, I think it necessary.”
The prince tossed up a careless hand. “Do what you will. Just make it quick.”
“You girl,” he motioned at me with two fingers. “Go to your home and pack your things. Come to the palace tomorrow before noon.” He turned to Duncan. “We’ll move her into one of the huts so Bertrand can train her. Hopefully, he’ll have her up to speed in a few days' time.”
I gnawed at the inside of my cheek, a dozen conflicting emotions rolling through me at once. Being on palace grounds was a dangerous game, but I couldn’t very well refuse him. No true Smudger would dare. “M-my cousin here lives with me. Can she come?”
The sorcerer tipped his head. “Of course. Your names?”
I’d already given the prince something close to my real name, so I had to go with another. Like the name Pawpaw had given me, but shorter.
“Ella. And that’s Molly,” I added, realizing that my lie about the vow of silence meant that she couldn’t answer for herself.
“The guards at the palace will be expecting you.”
With that, Relyk turned on his heel and made his way back to the carriage, his cloak catching the wind, the gold stars glinting as if they were woven with real gold. And maybe they were. Duncan met my gaze with a long one of his own…followed by what I could’ve sworn was a stealthy wink. Only then did he climb into the carriage after the sorcerer.
What the hell?
Duncan seemed awfully unaffected for a man who’d just lost a brother. Although, that might be because he—like many around here, it seemed—knew that his brother was a truly terrible man and the world was better off without him. That, plus the fact that he would soon be king would certainly explain the lack of grief.
The caravan of guards and carriages moved on with a clatter of wheels, weapons and armor. Only then did we both breathe a sigh of relief.
Moll shook her head, dark curls bouncing. “That was way too close! I must say, though…I’m a bit surprised that Prince Duncan didn’t recall seeing me at the ball, even in passing.”
I stared at her, dumbfounded. “Is that annoyance I hear in your tone?”
She bristled. “Well, I mean, I suppose it’s lucky that he didn’t, but?—”
“But what?” I let out a snort-laugh. “You’d rather hang from the gallows than accept that your tits are just not that memorable.” I glanced at her chest, and how covered it was beneath the dress and the oversized, knee length coat she wore.
A smile tugged at her lips. “Fine. I’m vain. And I suppose without the stunning hair and same dress, it would be difficult. But let’s focus on what’s important. Are we seriously considering moving onto the palace grounds? Enemy territory?” As she spoke, she dropped her voice to a quiet whisper that was filled with more than a little fear.
Hooking my arm with hers, I helped her balance as we made our way through the wall and into The Smudge. “I don’t think we have a choice. These people aren’t used to being told no, and I’ve no doubt this is considered an honor, to be plucked from a crowd like that. It would only rouse suspicion if we don’t show.” With little choice in the matter, I focused on silver linings, my mind already racing ahead. This could actually work.
“And this time, Heinrich won’t be there to hurt you. We go, and we hide in plain sight. You know the saying? ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’ We’ll have food, shelter, some coin—I’m assuming they’ll pay me. Most important, we’ll have access to information about any moves they’re making far earlier than the people here in The Smudge. I’ll be assistant falconer by day and use the rest of my time to find someone to smuggle us out and back to The Hollow. And now we’ll actually have money to pay them.”
I steered her toward the blacksmith’s shop, praying that my instincts about Smitty were right and he would allow us to crash there for the night. It would be warmer than the hut, at the very least.
She nodded, still looking dubious as we shuffled our way down the street. “If you think this is the right move, Ella, I’m in. I’ll just have to do my best to keep my natural beauty in check, so Prince Duncan doesn’t take a second look and realize I was the stunning redhead at the jubilee that night.”
Duncan might not have recognized her, but after that wink, I was pretty sure he’d recognized me …a secret I’d be taking to my grave.
A grave which I might be inhabiting sooner than planned if whatever amusement he was getting from this little charade faded. If I was right and he did know me, I’d just have to trust that he had his reasons to stay mum, and hope it continued.
Or Molly and I were both going to find ourselves on the wrong side of the noose.