Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
R ebellion was a terrible idea. Probably one of my worst to date. Moll would tell me so, and she’d be right.
Yet the word tumbled through me, over and over, as stupid as it was.
I tore my attention away from the king to focus on the task at hand.
Duncan met my gaze. “Good luck,” he mouthed.
My heart skipped a beat as I turned and quickly scanned past Relyk, who raised his eyebrows, and across to the guards. Close up, the king’s guards were far stranger than they had appeared from the stands. Easily a head taller than the average man, half again as wide, and each of them had a cloud of black flies that flitted in and out of their midnight-black armor giving them an effect as if shadows curled around them.
“Apprentice. Get to it,” Bertrand barked, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I reached down shakily, tugging a dried chunk of rabbit jerky from my pocket. I’d have plenty of time to process the king’s horrifying guards later. It was showtime. Fetch tensed on my shoulder as I strode out into the ring, and he shot from my arm like a bolt of lightning when I finally tossed it into the air.
We ran through a series of basic tricks, and I did my best not to have him show up Bertrand’s falcons. Getting a passing grade could be better than excelling, especially when you didn't want eyes on you.
I whistled him down at the end of our routine, but he shot up at the last moment instead, spinning through the air. He let the jerky fall from his beak, as if by accident, and I already knew what to expect when he snapped into a dive bomb a heartbeat later.
He plummeted toward the ground in a whirlwind of feathers and talons. The morsel hurtled closer and closer to the hard-packed earth below, with him just behind. His beak snapped it up only inches from the ground, and he whirled out of his dive, his wings blowing up a cloud of dirt as he whipped back into flight and onto my shoulder. The crowd erupted with applause, and he tossed the treat into the air a final time before gulping it down, letting out a final, triumphant screech.
Showoff.
I might be willing to take a backseat to Bertrand’s falcons, but apparently Fetch was not. Not that I blamed him—he was amazing.
My mood darkened as my attention shifted back to the royals, and the sorcerer cocked his head as I met his gaze. He shot me a thin smile, pulling his hands together for a single clap of his own.
“And here we have our palace’s future falconer, Ella . We look forward to seeing what innovation she might bring in the coming years, should she apprentice well.”
I bowed again, eyes fixing on Moll as I turned around and marched back up the wooden stairs. She was shrunk as small as she could be in her seat, leaning away from the king, trembling. Rage burned hot in my belly, setting my blood to boil.
For Moll, I would fight with all I had.
The sorcerer spoke again before I’d even finished sitting back down next to Moll.
“For our next exhibition…our very own Prince Duncan, along with Sir Crispin Locke. The strength of the royal family does not only lie in leadership and politics. The Prince has studied the blade since he was a young boy, and, as we all know, few can match him in skill. This exhibition will be yet another chance for him to prove that.”
Duncan and Sir Crispin pulled on their helmets, leaving only their eyes and mouth visible, then strode over to the edge of the ring side by side. One of the black-armored guards moved to open the gate for them, but King Heinrich…
“Stop!” He made an unsteady march toward them.
“Your Majesty.” Relyk stood and bowed his head.
What was happening? I couldn’t see Duncan’s face under the helmet.
After a quick exchange with Relyk that had the sorcerer backing away, Heinrich turned to address the crowd.
“I will take my brother’s place in this bout to show the enemies of the crown just how strong their king is even after an attack!” His voice rang with emotion. At first I thought it was anger at his would-be assassin. But as he passed Duncan and shoulder-checked him without sparing him so much as a glance, I realized it was something else.
“Jealousy,” I whispered, leaning close to Moll. “There’s a sibling rivalry here at the very least.”
Unless…did Heinrich think the attack on him had been orchestrated by Duncan? But that didn’t make sense—Heinrich was aware of what he’d done that night, even if he would never admit it. He had to know that Molly acted in self-defense, nothing else.
It was a strange emotion to see from a man who ruled an entire kingdom and could have whatever his heart desired, yet there it was, plain to see.
He was jealous.
Thinking on it, Heinrich only decided to intervene when the sorcerer had started singing the younger brother’s praises.
Interesting.
I tucked that bit of knowledge away. If anything, it made me believe that Duncan was the better choice as king more than ever.
Heinrich strode forward to the center of the ring to meet Crispin, who bowed low in respect before unsheathing his blunted blade. The limp from his previous fight with the mantis was obvious as they circled each other, but he advanced nonetheless.
The king stepped to meet him, his blade whipping forward with a testing strike. Crispin batted it aside and responded with an attack of his own, narrowly avoiding the king's armored chest.
Heinrich leapt sideways before lunging once again, his sword slicing past the man's face. Crispin stumbled as he dodged back, but recovered quickly, and the crowd roared as the tip of his blade clinked off the king's breastplate.
I held my breath as the king advanced in a wild flurry of strikes. His sword swung in and out, hammering at Crispin. The knight staggered backward as he blocked and dodged, unable to do anything but defend himself against the increasingly frantic onslaught. A dozen strikes in, Heinrich’s blade slid just past his shoulder, smashing into the ground below with an audible thunk .
I leaned forward in my seat, unable to sit as I waited for what came next.
Would Crispin really risk striking the king ?
It would be a death sentence.
Crispin spared the briefest of glances at the sword lodged into the dirt behind him, then thrust his blunted blade half-heartedly toward Heinrich. It bounced uselessly off the armor as it made contact, marking a second unanswered blow. I shot a quick glance at Duncan, who stood right up against the fence.
This was not going according to plan, of that much I was sure.
Just as Crispin moved to sheathe his weapon, the king let out a roar, yanked the blade from the dirt, and swung with all his might.
A killing blow, aimed to take the knight's head.
The knight ducked low, but his leg buckled in the sudden shift of weight, and the king's blade cut through the air where his head had been. But the king caught himself and settled for a backswing that landed hard against Crispin’s shoulder. The arena was totally silent as Heinrich dove upon him, swinging his weapon into the wounded knight’s chest plate and helmet over and over as Crispin covered his head with his bracer-clad arms. He couldn’t fight back. Not really. If he did, he’d be killed.
But if he did nothing…I was sure we were about to see him lifeless.
One moment, it was just Heinrich brutalizing the defenseless guard. The next, it was as if someone had loosed a lion into the arena.
Prince Duncan leapt over the railing, and sprinted toward them, his hand inching toward the hilt of his sword. “Enough! Enough, brother!”
Heinrich didn’t seem to hear Duncan, his blows coming faster and harder on Crispin.
The air was thick with tension as the silent crowd sucked in a collective breath. Would Duncan actually hurt his own brother?
“Halt!” Relyk’s voice boomed through the silent arena, stopping the king in mid-swing before the prince could reach them or fully draw his weapon.
Though the action was in the arena, it was the sorcerer I couldn’t look away from.
Relyk’s skin had paled to the point that it looked a sickly gray even from this distance. “As I say, halt. The fight is well met and done.” He swayed on his feet as he lifted a hand. “A truly magnificent display of strength from our monarch. King Heinrich is the victor.”
I turned my attention back to Heinrich to find him glaring at Relyk but still hunched over a fallen Crispin, who likely dared not move.
Would Heinrich finish the poor man off, just to make a point? After a few gut-wrenching moments, the king finally let his sword fall to the dirt. Then he stood and held up his fist in celebration. There was a beat of confused silence, followed by a half-hearted smattering of applause.
I let out a shaky breath and slumped back in my seat. That had been far too close of a call. The royals and those of Little Alabaster might look down on us people from The Hollow, but they were fucking animals. I was a thousand percent sure that if Relyk hadn’t called the fight, Duncan’s friend would be dead.
I’d never been more desperate to get back to my shithole of a home. I’d rather be poorer than dirt and struggling to survive than live right under the nose of a man who would rape, kill and do whatever the fuck he wanted, knowing there was no law that held him to a higher standard.
Duncan glared at his brother as he passed and then knelt to help Crispin stand. The man gripped his forearm and stood as Duncan’s gaze snapped right back to the king.
“Brother, that was—” The prince’s fingers closed over the hilt of his sword, but Crispin put a hand on Duncan’s shoulder, halting him. Duncan stood stock-still with indecision for a long moment, body tight as a wire stretched. Finally, he took his hand from the hilt and just shook his head. “Well done, my king,” he said with a curt bow.
The crowd breathed out in unison as the last of the tension faded. If it hadn’t been for his knight’s steadying hand, it was hard to say what would’ve happened. Had Duncan really been planning to charge the king by himself? A suicide mission, considering Heinrich’s ominous armored squad of goons who no doubt would have stepped in. I had a feeling that, blood relative or not, Duncan would be shown no more mercy for attacking the king than anyone else.
Duncan and his knight exited the center of the arena a moment later and headed back toward their seats. It was easy to see that they had a friendship like Moll and I; they were connected in spirit instead of by blood. It was clearer now more than ever that the same was not the case between Duncan and his brother. A reason to trust the prince, or just a coincidence? Just because he wasn’t a rapist, and knew his brother was a piece of shit didn’t mean he was a good man.
He’s still one of them, and you were just considering starting a rebellion you idiot, a little voice in my head reminded me. I couldn’t let myself forget that, not for an instant.
The remaining events of the so-called celebration passed uneventfully, with exhibitions between guardsmen, some lighter entertainment featuring dancers and a pair of fire-eating Whispers. By the time things were coming to a close, the sun had long since set.
Relyk silenced the amphitheater with a clearing of his throat as he and the king stepped back up to the podium.
“I hope you’ve enjoyed this celebration as much as we have, but we must end on a less joyous note. A dark specter hangs over us this night. This woman—Francesca, she called herself—needs to be found and punished for her crimes. The palace guards have questioned every redhead in Little Alabaster, to no avail. That means she’s likely altered her appearance, either by skill or by magic. An enemy of the kingdom lurks among us. An enemy that might well be hiding in plain sight, and every one of you has a duty to do all you can to bring this enemy to justice. If you suspect someone of being involved with this devious plot in any way, come forward and speak now. You will not be punished if you’re wrong. In fact, you’ll be lauded as a patriot trying to protect the crown.”
Based on how the king had treated Sir Crispin Locke, a man whose job was to ‘protect the crown,’ I found myself questioning how much Relyk’s promises were worth. And, even more concerning, how things would go for those accused. This could easily turn into some kind of insane witch hunt—especially if there was a tangible reward, or even a suspicion of one. But the crowd did not seem to share my worries as a hand shot up a few rows ahead of me.
The sorcerer glanced over, cocking his head and motioning for her to stand. “Yes?”
A flicker of light passed from Relyk to the servant. The woman’s voice was hoarse and deep, and she labored over each word, but she was loud enough to hear every breath.
“Could be that it was Agnes Burrows. She’s a Smudger who comes into town sometimes, and I can tell she doesn’t like the rest of us…I caught her laughing about my purple bonnet behind my back a few weeks ago, she just seems like the type to try and hurt the king.”
The sorcerer smiled benevolently at the woman.
“Any other…suspicious behaviors?”
The servant scratched at her chin and then shook her head. “Maybe, but not that I’ve seen with my own eyes.”
Relyk laced his hands together, tight enough I could see the strain. “And how old is Agnes?”
The woman scrunched her face up and shrugged. “Sixty-odd.”
“Our suspect is younger, and even a strong Whisper would struggle to create such a grand illusion for long, but I’ll take it under advisement and inquire with my contacts in The Smudge.”
A thirty-something year old man raised a hand, and Relyk gave him time to speak as well. “What about the young woman who breaks horses at the stables? I saw her talking with the king when she was riding earlier that morning. She was crying and cursing under her breath after he left.”
The sorcerer actually seemed intrigued this time. “And what is her name?”
“Amelia.”
A woman a distance away let out a low cry and shot to her feet. “It wasn’t me! I was at the stable all night feeding and watering the guests’ horses! I swear it!”
The girl couldn’t have been more than nineteen, her brown hair shot with a hint of auburn. My blood ran cold as Relyk jerked his head at the fly-ridden henchman at his side. “I’m sure that’s true, but we’ll just have my guard confirm that with a few questions before you leave tonight.”
He shot Heinrich a glance, but the king bobbed his head in confusion and then shrugged.
So much for an eyewitness. I was pretty sure Heinrich didn’t remember fuck all about what happened in the gardens, what with having been nearly dead for a while there and all. Relyk had been trying to scare people into coming forward with that bit of fiction. If everyone calmed the fuck down and kept their mouths shut, eventually, they’d have to give up the hunt.
The guard marched toward Amelia, even as an older woman with the same hair color only speckled with gray leapt in front of her, arms splayed.
“No! Please, don’t take her! She’s my only living child. I can vouch for her.” Her voice had taken on a note of hysteria and Molly’s hand wrapped around mine in a bone-bruising grip. “I brought her a beef and bean pie late that night as she’d had such a long day. I saw her at the stables!”
“Keep your head down,” I whispered to Moll, my arm shooting up more on sheer instinct than considered thought. “Excuse me? Sir?” I called loudly, causing every head to turn my way. “Why would a stable hand have a pair of expensive…what were they, glass shoes is what I heard? And how would she have been able to attend the Jubilee without an invite?”
Relyk shot Amelia’s accuser a questioning glance. “Your thoughts?”
The man drew back, eyes wide. “Well…I couldn’t say, could I? I—maybe she stole them. I don’t know, I only told you what I knew and that’s that.”
“Where would she get them indeed?” Relyk muttered. “My focus was on healing the king, interviewing the invited attendees along with anyone who bore a resemblance to this criminal, but it’s time to spread the search.” He turned to the line of soldiers behind him. “First thing tomorrow you are to check all the shops in town and see if there is anything even remotely similar to those shoes.”
Fuck, fuck fuck. What had I done?
I’d been so intent on drawing suspicion away from some innocent stable girl that I may have inadvertently helped them with their investigation. They’d start in Little Alabaster and The Smudge, but it’d only be a matter of time before they took their inquiries to The Hollow. Everyone there would know that only Xavier would create such a whimsical item. Hell, he was probably still bragging about those fucking shoes.
Sure, there were those of us who would never betray a Hollower to the crown, even if it meant death. But all it would take was a hint of financial reward and the handful of kiss-asses and turncoats would start singing like canaries.
I should’ve taken my own advice and shut the fuck up. Maybe it should’ve been me rather than Moll who had taken a ‘vow of silence’...
Whispers and muttering rolled through the crowd as both young Amelia and her crying mother were walked out of the arena, but the sorcerer pulled their attention back with a whistle.
“We will allow your annual Abundance Feasts to go on as scheduled and will be hosting a select group of guests at the palace that night as well. If our culprit is not found between now and then, it will be the last social event in Alabaster while we reassess our security protocols. This means no Year's End gala, or dinner parties in your homes, no fetes or balls hosted at the palace. None of it.”
I was still trying to figure out how to help Amelia, but by the sound of the gasps that cut through the front rows, you would have thought that he had threatened castration instead of cancelling their stupid parties for a while.
But they weren’t done yet. Heinrich stood to join Relyk, and something about his icy smile told me he’d saved the worst for last.
“And if, Gods forbid, we still don’t find the person responsible by the time the frost melts? A team made up of your firstborn children will be selected by lottery to head out over the Great Wall and clear the mantis nests of any eggs.”
There it was.
I could feel Molly flinch beside me, and I let my eyes drift shut.
Monsters. These people were fucking monsters.
“This is not meant to be a punishment, of course,” Relyk chimed in. “There was an attack in The Hollow, and a little boy was nearly killed.”
Girl. It was a little girl, you bastard.
I opened my eyes to see the sorcerer snick his tongue in fake concern as he continued with a shake of his head. “We just need to make sure that every family feels like they have some stake in keeping the people in this kingdom safe. You understand.”
Judging by the dead silence, the masses definitely did not understand, but no one said a word.
“Now that’s settled, you can all go home to your beds. Make sure to say a prayer of thanks for your beloved king’s miraculous recovery.”
King Heinrich’s lips twisted in a cruel smile as he dismissed us all with a wave. We filed out of the amphitheater in orderly lines moments later. The mixture of fear and rage that consumed me was almost too much to bear and I had trouble taking it slow enough to let Moll keep up with me.
Would they truly let Amelia and her mother go once they checked her alibi? And if they didn’t, was I as much to blame as the king himself for allowing her to be taken despite knowing she was innocent? Sure, I’d tried to help, but it had done nothing. Her status, pretty face, the color of her hair had damned her.
That and the fact that the king clearly didn’t have a single fucking memory of the night he was stabbed. They were relying on descriptions from people who had seen Moll in passing. Good for us, not so good for every other woman.
We broke away from the rest of the servants on the way back to our hut, and not until we shut the door behind us did Moll let out a long, heavy breath.
“That was awful.” She removed her prosthetic and absently rubbed at her knee. “I feel ill. I don’t get it. How can he be alive? I keep seeing his very dead face in my nightmares…”
Fetch flew from my shoulder to an upper cabinet as I shook my head. “The sorcerer’s magic must be stronger than anyone knows if he could bring him back from so close to dead that we all assumed he was.”
But I got the sense the effort came at a cost. Relyk had looked more and more haggard as the night had progressed, and the king hadn’t exactly been full of vim and vigor either. They were putting up a good front for the populace and the politics of the place.
Speaking of good fronts…
“What did you make of those drawings?”
“Well, whoever did them is an amazing artist, but I overheard those maids talking about them being some sort of protest against the crown, and I didn’t really see it,” she said with a shrug. “That one girl was right, though. The sorcerer definitely didn’t mention it.”
“They were a lot like,” Okay, exactly like, “the pictures in that book of fairy tales I told you about.”
“Interesting. Maybe whoever drew them came from the same place as your real parents!”
I nodded, half-relieved that she’d come to the same—sane—conclusion as I had. Because the other possibility was that all this stress had jiggled something loose in my brain and I was on a straight path to madness.
What had Gayelette said again?
“Just know this; you’re exactly where you’re meant to be, and you have everything you need to succeed. Stop fighting every step of the way and open yourself to what the universe is telling you.”
“Yeah well, the universe should be a lot more fucking clear, then,” I mumbled, head suddenly pounding.
“What was that?” Moll asked, head tipped in question.
I cleared my throat and forced a smile despite the ache in my temples.
“Nothing, just thinking out loud. I don’t want you to worry, Moll. We’re going to get out of here soon. I swear it.”
She nodded wordlessly, leaning her head into my shoulder. “I… Thank you. For coming for me when you knew I was in trouble. For staying and helping me, even though you don’t have to. All of it.”
“I know you’d do the same if the situation was reversed.” I wrapped an arm around her waist and stood there, my resolve strengthening. I couldn’t be wasting precious energy on fairytales and coincidences. I needed every cell in my brain for planning, revising, and planning some more.
Tomorrow, I’d still make contact with the O'Donnellys. But things had grown decidedly more complicated in the past couple of hours. Now, not only did I have to protect Moll until we made our escape. I also had to make sure Amelia and her mother didn’t pay for our sins, and I had no idea where to start to help them.
This place had already been a fucking hell-scape of potential pitfalls and terror with just me and Moll to try and save.
Now that King Heinrich was alive , I had a sinking feeling that his reign of terror was just beginning.