Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
I stared at him, mouth agape, unable to speak as his words set in.
A coup.
Duncan was going to unseat his brother? Not that I hadn’t considered rebellion myself once I’d seen Heinrich up close and decidedly not dead. But it was one thing to think it, to threaten it in your mind, another to say it out loud and…mean it.
A dozen moments from the past few days replayed in my mind, given new meaning by this revelation. It all made so much sense.
Duncan didn’t turn from me. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but I needed to be sure. It’s not only my life that is at stake in all this.”
“Crispin?” I flashed back to that brief shoulder grab that’d stopped Duncan from pursuing Heinrich in the amphitheater. It had been more of a “not yet” than a “don’t do it.”
He frowned, going silent for a long moment. “And others. I can’t go into specifics, but I have a strong group of supporters who are willing to go to battle for me if it comes to it. I’m hoping it won’t. When Heinrich was injured, I thought we wouldn’t have to fight, that we’d had a boon from the gods. But…”
“But he pulled through,” I whispered.
“Very much thanks to Relyk. I still don’t know he did it. I was there, Ella. I saw the wound, and…I would have sworn my brother was dead.”
I nodded, shifting my gaze to the wall below. He wanted to tear. It. Down.
Was such a thing even possible?
“I’ve shared my biggest secret with you.” he caught my chin and turned my face to him, his eyes drilling into mine. “Now it’s your turn…Who are you, really? There is something about you, I cannot explain it, but I’ve known it since we first met.”
My throat went tight as I met his earnest gaze again, and Gayelette’s cryptic words floated to the forefront of my mind…
“Open your eyes and you will see who to trust.”
“My name is Harmony Fallowell. I live in The Hollow. I came to Alabaster the night of the Jubilee, as I’m sure you already know. I got stuck here after…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say next.
There was truth, and there was truth . Could I really tell the brother of the king what happened that night? What if my instincts were wrong? What if this was all some elaborate trap to get me to confess?
“You can tell me anything, Harmony. I will never betray you. I’ve been under your spell since the second I laid eyes on you.” He touched a gentle finger to my chin, reestablishing eye contact before he continued. “Your cousin was the one who stabbed Heinrich, isn’t she?”
It was more of a statement than a question, and I couldn’t muster the strength to deny it. “How long have you known?”
His eyes narrowed in thought. “At first, I knew only that you had snuck into the Jubilee, but that isn’t the first time someone has done that. It was more a gut feeling…a sense I got whenever you looked at Heinrich. I could feel your disgust and hatred. Also not new. Plenty of people despise him, with good reason. The final piece of the puzzle slid into place when I saw how protective you were with Molly and got a closer look at her prosthetic. Smart,” he added with a grin.
“People like you don’t usually look at people like us…not really. It was a gamble,” I admitted with a wry smile.
“And it worked…on a lot of people. Though I wonder if Relyk suspects anything.”
I pulled the blanket a little tighter around my shoulder. “He definitely suspects me of something. Duncan…did you see that picture on the amphitheater when it first appeared? The one of the city made of emeralds?”
He squinted in thought. “Vaguely, but I admit, there was a lot going on. I figured some Whispers had vandalized the place, but the murals weren’t offensive or dangerous, so I didn’t pay them much mind. Why?”
“Well, the one thing he managed to scrub away with magic was…me. Originally, I was in that picture, with Fetch on my shoulder, and wearing the boots you gave me days after the picture appeared.”
Duncan stared at me. “I didn’t even know I was going to give those to you. I chose them the night before. How could he have known?”
“There’s more,” I admitted softly.
We’d reached the crossroads. How much to tell him here? It was time to tread carefully. If I told him of my plans, it could ruin everything…for both of us. He’d want to help. And if we got caught, not only would I have failed Moll, I would’ve taken Duncan and his dream with me. Not an option. Because whatever feelings I’d harbored about nobles in the past, Duncan had proven one thing for sure.
Prince Charming did exist, and he was beside me right now, in the flesh.
I couldn’t torpedo the start of a much-needed revolution to save my own skin. I needed to do this alone—I would finish the O’Donnellys’ job and get back to Moll. Then we’d leave the Hollow for good. There would be no guilt about leaving Heinrich in power, because Duncan would take his place.
In the meantime, maybe he had some information that could help…
“When I was at the party last night, I didn’t go right home. I went snooping to see if I could find anything that might help us escape,” I hedged, settling on a lie of omission. “And I ended up in some room down a long hallway. It was full of canvases and a bunch of paintings. There were replicas of the drawings on the amphitheater. Relyk had created them. He knew I was coming. Somehow, through whatever dark magic he wields, it was foretold.”
His brows knit together. “Then why not kill you on the spot when he saw you in The Smudge?”
“The only thing I can think of is that he still needs me. For what, I don’t know. Maybe to help him figure out what the pictures mean or who created them. What do you think?”
He shook his head, blowing out a breath of frustration. “Hard to tell with him, he keeps his secrets close to his chest. I desperately want to help you figure it all out, but with our plan already in motion, I have to be careful the next few days. I’ll keep you safe in the meantime, and make sure that he and my brother are too dead to do whatever it was they were planning in the first place. I wish I could do more right now, but it will only raise suspicions if you suddenly disappear.”
“You’ve done so much already,” I whispered, the guilt nearly splitting me in two. “Especially that first day by telling the guard that Heinrich would never be interested in women like us. If they checked us thoroughly…”
I winced at the thought.
“Molly’s hair color didn’t really suit her face, so my guess is that she was the redhead Heinrich lured into the gardens that night. He got violent, her shoe came off in the struggle, and you arrived in the nick of time to extricate her.”
Pretty close, and I wasn’t about to correct him over semantics. It was one thing to trust him with my secrets. It was another to trust him with Moll’s.
“I don’t blame you. I’d have done the same for someone I loved,” he said.
Electricity sparked between us as his fingers interlaced with mine. It felt natural…right.
I let out a sigh and laid my head onto his shoulder, wishing things could’ve been different.
“I know it must’ve been scary. If I could’ve gotten you out of Alabaster before now, I would have.”
Call me a fool, but I believed him.
“Soon, though…Harmony.”
Sooner than he knew. I shoved the thought away. “What’s your plan to take the throne? The sorcerer seems like he’d be a powerful enemy if he’s as strong of a Whisper as he seems.”
“Moreso, even. He hides his strength because if people knew, they would be terrified. He tries to pretend he’s the voice of reason, but he’s as malicious and crafty as they come. I think you may have created the perfect window for us to strike, though.”
“ Me? ”
“I know it sounds crazy, but…I’m sure my brother died when Molly stabbed him. I saw him with my own eyes; His body was already cold by the time Relyk got to him. And he still isn’t alive, even now. Not truly.”
The man running the kingdom was little more than a walking corpse. Or was it Relyk running the kingdom then? “So what’re you going to do?”
“I’m sure you’ve already noticed as much, but Relyk is growing weaker and having a hard time keeping up appearances as the days pass. My brother’s condition is deteriorating, and Relyk won’t be able to keep him in one piece forever. He’s likely already scrambling to bring in some distant cousin to replace him rather than me, so this is our shot.”
“Why not you? You’re next in line.”
Duncan’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “It would never happen. The sorcerer likes his kings weak-willed and easily manipulated. I’m quite certain the only reason he hasn’t tried to have me killed is because it’s too close to the attempt on Heinrich’s life. He doesn’t want people asking questions. He wants fat, happy, silent sheep. But I’ve finally got some of the sheep bleating. And, based on how quickly the strain of keeping Heinrich alive is draining his strength, I think he should be weak enough for us to strike in a couple days’ time.”
I burrowed my face tightly against his shoulder, letting his warm, woodsy scent close over me like a second blanket.
“Even if he’s weakened, do you think you’ll be able to win?”
“I can’t know for sure. He’s always been so diligent about hiding his strength. But I can’t wait until he’s decided on a successor. Then we would have a war on two fronts. This is the best chance we’re going to get.”
“And what happens if you succeed in overthrowing them? Will you be our next King?”
“For a time. I have…” his expression darkened, and he looked away. “Let’s just say I have my own issues that wouldn’t make me the best option, either. My long-term goals involve getting rid of the monarchy entirely, but someone will have to oversee things until new laws are created. That would be me and a team of elected advisers. The dream is an Alabaster with no walls and no king.”
I had so many questions and was trying to navigate how to ask them when suddenly, Duncan’s hand shot out in front of us in a blur.
He lifted one finger to his lips as he slowly rose to his feet. My stomach lurched as he unclenched his fist to reveal a dead, boated fly.
Jackal.
He dropped it and reached for his sword as I rolled to my feet, heartbeat pounding in my ears.
“Get down!” he yelled, nearly in unison with Fetch’s warning screech from a nearby tree.
I feinted left as an arrow whizzed through the air where I’d stood a moment earlier. I yelped, skittering a few feet away before turning to get a better look at what was going on.
Atticus drummed his front feet, slamming his hooves into the ground, and let out a series of agitated snorts as he paced, but he didn’t run off.
“Stay close and keep your eyes peeled for more,” Duncan said, eyes glued to the dark clad figure closing in on him. Its hood was not fully on, and for a moment its face was partially exposed.
Flies burst into the air as the black hood slipped back. Crimson lines bisected gaunt cheeks in a twisted, otherworldly approximation of a man’s face.
I bit at my inner lip, cursing. Duncan was huge, towering over me by a solid foot, but the Jackal gave him a run for his money. It was going to be a brutal fight.
Duncan was the first to act. He lunged forward, his great sword tearing through the air in a massive, two-handed swing.
The Jackal leapt just inches out of range, then charged in a blur the moment the danger had passed. His blade was lighter and thinner, and, contrary to what I would’ve expected based on his appearance, he was fast . He parried a follow-up attack, his blade snaking toward Duncan’s shoulder in a single, fluid motion.
The prince ducked at the last second. He raised his sword, readying himself for a counter, but there was no time. The Jackal let the momentum carry him through, tossing his blade from one hand to the other as he spun all the way around, throwing himself right into the next attack.
Faster than any fighter I’d seen.
That thin blade snaked out for swing after swing, never failing to get within inches of Duncan’s head or chest. If this continued, it could only end one way.
The clatter of clashing swords split the air as Duncan batted down a thrust, and he charged forward, throwing caution to the wind as he unleashed an attack of his own.
The Jackal jolted sideways, seeming to disappear from view as it rolled under the swing, smashing its arm into Duncan’s leg. The prince grunted, his foot shooting out in a kick, but the Jackal had already risen, his blade flashing toward his throat.
I fumbled wildly through my bag, unable to take my eyes off of the horrible scene in front of me. If I didn’t do something, Duncan, the one person capable of saving Alabaster and The Hollow, was going to die.
He leapt back, the Jackal’s sword landing a glancing blow across his shoulder. Blood soaked his shirt instantly, but he didn't waver, as if he didn’t even feel the bite of the blade.
The prince’s massive sword whistled through the air as it hurtled toward his opponent, and my heart skipped a beat as he followed it up with a left-handed punch.
How the hell could he wield that thing with one hand?
The crack of bones sent a chill down my spine as the Jackal strode into the blow, unfazed.
Duncan parried a series of attacks, still obviously on the back foot as I tore the incapacitator from my bag. If there was a time to use it, this was it.
I inched sideways, watching the creature’s movements and searching for the perfect moment. If I could just find a way to get at his back while he was preoccupied with Duncan…
The monster whirled, completely ignoring Duncan as he leapt toward me in a blur. I grasped wildly for the trigger on my weapon, but the speed difference was too much. He appeared just a few feet away, flies pouring from his mouth by the hundreds as his sword slashed at my neck.
I stumbled back, heart still thundering in my chest as I held the device up, steeling myself for the inevitable.
Duncan’s broad shoulders blocked my vision just as the Jackal was about to strike.
“Stay back.” The prince’s voice was deadly calm as he parried another attack.
Fetch fell to my shoulder as I scrambled away, watching in horror as the monster moved into another one of its impossibly fast flurries. His blade whipped through the air at a speed I couldn’t imagine any human being able to compete with. But Duncan advanced on the beast, his speed nearly matching the monsters, bashing the smaller blade out of the way and sending it rolling to the ground below.
The Jackal let out a terrible screech, dropping for his weapon. Duncan shot forward simultaneously, sword whirling for the monster’s arm.
My breath caught in my throat as the Jackal changed course entirely, lurching to a stop then leaping in the opposite direction, hand stretched toward Duncan’s chest.
An undulating wave of inky black burst out of its palm, completely blotting out the space between them in black mist. Duncan rolled sideways, grunting in pain as the mist consumed the upper part of his left shoulder. A section of the tree behind him withered and died upon contact, as if it had aged a hundred years in an instant.
Duncan caught himself on the hilt of his sword, the tip pressing into the ground as he recovered his balance.
My blood ran cold as the Jackal let out a guttural, horrifying mockery of a laugh. I squeezed my invention tight in clammy hands, dashing forward as the creature lunged toward an injured Duncan.
The prince’s blade whipped up from his side in a heartbeat, and not just for a regular attack. Duncan hurled the blade at the Jackal, roaring as he charged forward to meet the creature head-on.
The Jackal batted the weapon aside, a look of terror consuming its face for the first time as it moved to block the follow-up punch. And it was right to be scared, because a moment later, Duncan’s massive fist smashed into its jaw with a sickening crunch. He yanked the monster back as it turned to run, throwing it to the ground and leaping on top of it.
Dozens of brutal, bone-crunching blows landed in a row, sending out spurts of green, putrid blood that coated the ground below. The creature had been still for half a minute by the time Duncan rose, making his way over to his fallen sword.
He hefted it with a ragged breath, then brought it down on the creature’s neck in a lumberjack’s swing—bone and green blood splattering to my feet.
A wave of nausea washed over me, but I didn’t turn my head as the Jackal’s head rolled away. A cloud of flies burst out through the neck hole filling the air around the body.
“Holy shit.”
“Didn’t want to take any chances that it wasn’t dead,” Duncan said, panting.
I hazarded a glance his way, keeping my eyes off of the mangled body at his feet. “I don’t blame you. I’ve never seen anything fight like that.”
He looked up at me, clenching his fist. “I’ve always wondered if I could take one. I guess we found out.”
“Your eyes. They looked different,” I said, jabbing my finger toward him. “The same as the day of the hunting trip.”
His lean jaw worked as he glanced down at the body. “I’m a Whisper. My power gives me unholy strength in times of need…but it comes with a price.” His tone was clipped as he continued. “We have more immediate concerns, though. This assassination attempt is a big escalation for Relyk. In hindsight, I have to assume it isn’t the first, either.”
My mind whirred and then it hit me. “The bear attack?” I gasped.
“With him already using energy to keep Heinrich on his feet, controlling the bear, even for a short time, must’ve drained him.”
“Which must have been why he looked so sick when we got back.”
“That’s my guess. Up until recently, we’ve danced around one another, playing nice. I’d hoped it would stay that way until we were ready to make our move, but either he got wind of our plan, or he knows that Heinrich isn’t long for this world and needed to clear the way for his successor. I’ve got to get rid of the body, meet up with Crispin and figure out where to go from here.”
I nodded, hands trembling as I stuffed the incapacitator back into my pouch. “I understand. Is your shoulder okay?”
The cloth of his tunic looked totally normal, but a dark, bruise-like patch was visible just above it. He rolled it around a few times, then shrugged. “It’s been better. But the stuff barely caught me, I should be fine. The other is healed already. A perk to my abilities—quick healing.”
Duncan dragged the Jackal’s corpse to the edge of the cliff and tossed him over while I worked to calm Atticus. It took a few minutes to soothe the spooked chestnut enough for him to let us mount, but then we were on our way, far faster than our leisurely trip to the outlook.
“So what now?” I asked, eyes darting around in search of another rogue fly.
“I’m trying to figure that out, but I need to start by going back to the palace.”
I craned my neck to stare behind me. “You what ?”
Duncan nudged the horse into a trot and let out a sigh. “My people need me. If the sorcerer is onto me, who knows who else he’s onto? Lord Willoughby is waiting for me to gather the other lords to my side. And I can’t give up now and run away when we’re this close. I have to pretend his Jackal never caught up to me and hope by the time he discovers the truth, it will be too late.”
“Won’t he just try to kill you again?”
“It’d be a big risk on his part, as long as I don’t let him catch me alone, and I stay close to the castle. People would start to ask questions, and he doesn’t want that. He’ll pull back and regroup before trying again. I’m confident of that. It should give us enough time to make our move.”
I didn’t like it, but I could hardly argue. I was planning something equally dangerous and at least as foolish. Almost like he knew, he continued on.
“In the meantime, I’m going to need you to go somewhere safe in case this blows up. I’ll have a way easier time focusing on what I need to do if I know you’re safe and far from the fighting.”
Where had I heard those words before? Ah, yes. I’d said them to Moll just before I basically told her she was a burden and sent her packing.
His arms tightened carefully around me. “There’s a hunting shack deep in the Northwest Forest. I’d like to take you there now. I doubt anyone even remembers it’s there.”
He described it in detail, but he didn’t need to have bothered. I remembered the place all too well. Moll and I had spent our first night in Little Alabaster there. The shack would be as good a place as any to prepare for tonight’s mission. And Duncan was right. He’d do better not to be worried about me right now when he had bigger fish to fry.
I made a mental note…once I was safe, I’d send Fetch with a message. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
“I’ll go, if that’s what you want.”
“I do. I’ll send Crispin with supplies later this morning, and as soon as I can, I’ll come get you.”
Guilt rolled through me as I nodded, but this was the only way.
“If I’m not there in three days’ time, you need to sneak off into The Smudge and hide as best you can,” he said. “It’ll mean…that things didn’t go as planned.”
“I will,” I said, furthering my lie.
We made the ride to the shack in near silence after that, both of us tense and on high alert. It wasn’t until we closed the door behind us that I felt like I could breathe.
“I’m worried about you. They could be waiting for you back at the castle,” I said, pacing the worn floorboards as he headed to the fireplace and let out a growl.
“Hold that thought.”
I held that thought and a thousand others as I continued to pace, waiting for him to return. Ten minutes later, he stepped through the door with an armload of deadwood and kindling.
“I’ll not have you freeze here if Crispin can’t make it back before dark.” With that terse explanation, he dropped to a squat and made short work of starting a fire.
“What about the smoke?”
“These woods are dense. If you keep it small, neither Relyk nor any of his people will notice. They’ve got enough to worry about…like trying to split one life force into two bodies without dying, and whether I’m going to come back and cut their heads off.”
He stood and swiped his hands on the thighs of his pants before turning to face me. The look in his eyes was one I could only describe as...love? Surely not…we’d only just met. But I knew it as sure as I knew my own name. And I’d seen it so rarely in my life that it nearly brought me low.
“Harmony, I?—”
“What if we just go?” I nearly blurted, the fear gripping my chest suddenly too much to bear as I closed the distance between us to lay my hands on his shoulders. “What if you forget the whole coup thing, we just go and get Molly and run away to…I don’t know where. Someplace far, far away. One of the other kingdoms.”
But I didn’t say any of that.
“Can’t someone else stage the coup?” I tried weakly.
“There is no one else. You know that.”
“Then at least stay with me now. Just for a little while, before…”
Before what? We both died? Before I left and he stayed, and we never saw each other again?
“Please.” The word stuck in my throat, but he was already shaking his head, his expression a bittersweet blend of resignation, grief, and promise as he rested his hands on my hips.
“You have no idea how much I wish I could. But I have to get back before everyone rises. There’s no telling what today might bring, and I can’t let those who’ve supported me face those dangers alone.” He cupped my face, and I pressed my cheek into his hand. “You have my word on this, though. I will cut down anyone who tries to stop me from getting back to you.”
He studied my face once more as if trying to memorize every line before crushing his lips to mine for the briefest of instants. Then, he was gone.
I pressed my fingers to my mouth as I closed the door behind him, wishing we had a little more time. Wishing that I’d been able to say goodbye for real. Because fool or no, I believed he would come back for me.
Would that love turn to hate when he found out I was gone, and that I’d lied right to his face?