31. The Sultana’s Spy
Chapter thirty-one
The Sultana’s Spy
As soon as Wester and Hize vanished, Etiana hobbled across the cell and set about dropping every heavy weapon she could on the chains that bound Rerdas’s arms until the metal finally broke. She struggled with the mechanism above the iron arm next, muttering frantically to herself.
Something popped, and the metal jaws sprang open.
Rerdas had no strength left to scream, and all that came out was a low, broken sound he barely recognized as his own voice. He collapsed, but his cousin caught him before he could plummet.
She couldn’t hold his weight, and they both sank slowly down to the grate at the bottom of the wishing well. “Breathe, Rerdas,” Etiana whispered, cradling his head. “It’ll be alright.”
He was too tired to tell her that her optimism ought to have worn away a long time ago. The best he could do was shift around so that he couldn’t see Heckly’s remains. He lay on his good shoulder, looking up at the circle of star-littered sky.
They were going to kill him. Etiana would be a prisoner until the queen could close her hand around Aunt Uralta's throat, and then his whole family would be gone. There was a kernel of relief in knowing that if they killed him first, he wouldn’t be left alone.
He must be losing his mind.
He wanted his father. He wanted to be lifted like he was a small child, still whole and unscarred, and held by someone who he was sure loved him.
But his father had never been one to coddle, and if he were watching now, he would not offer comfort.
His father would urge him to get up and fight for his life with every strange weapon adorning the walls.
He possessed few memories of his mother, and what he could recall of her was mostly her image captured in luminous oil paint.
Her real face, the sound of her voice, and the warmth that she had withheld from him were lost. She had stolen them away when she’d gone.
Perhaps that had been the beginning of the end.
His mother had opened the door, and one by one everyone he loved vanished through it.
There was no way to fight that. All he could do was lie still, pain surging in his shoulder every time he breathed.
Etiana curled protectively over him, head bowed almost to his good shoulder, both hands on his arm.
It reminded him of when they were children.
She used to make him play a game where she insisted she knew a spell to make him invisible if he lay perfectly still.
She’d crouch over him and chant nonsense, and Rerdas would look up at the crown of dark trees and marvel that she could still see him when the rest of the world could not.
He watched dawn tiptoe across the distant sky, deep indigo streaking with gold, and the stars all fading out.
***
When the door opened again, Etiana’s grip went tight as a vise. She didn’t look up at whoever entered the room, and Rerdas did not look around.
“Nap time is over, dear Toriems.”
Etiana’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. Rerdas blinked. That was an unexpected voice. He rolled carefully and stared at Hassindra. The princess leaned against the door, holding the ridiculously long train of her coat up so that it wouldn’t touch the ground.
“Did…” Etiana looked as though she hardly dared to hope. “Did Umber send you? Can you intercede?”
Hassindra rolled her eyes. “Umber is busy licking Kuraya’s feet.” She glared at Rerdas. “I made it exceedingly clear that you needed to leave immediately, didn’t I? You’ve complicated it now.”
“Complicated what?” Rerdas rasped. Even his voice sounded as if it’d been dragged over rocks.
“You know about the Little Dreamer, don’t you? The poison?” the princess asked.
He stared at her.
“Don’t look at me like that; I know you’re not as stupid as you look.” Hassindra put a hand to the door. “Come on, I have a use for you.”
“You’re under Kuraya’s thumb,” Etiana hissed. “It’s another trick. We’re not going anywhere with you.”
Hassindra sucked her lips over her teeth.
“Obstinacy is so unattractive, Lady Etiana.” She sighed, drumming her nails against her hip.
“Look, I want you to go south and convince those slow-footed Southerners to actually take up arms. Kuraya is consolidating power too quickly, and if they wait too long, the Red Guard will be unstoppable.”
If she wanted rid of Kuraya, Hassindra had to be after the crown herself.
Etiana’s thoughts were in-step with his. “You think to claim the throne?”
The princess scoffed. “If the South defeats Kuraya, the feld councils will make the crown toothless. I’m not interested in being an ornament. I want the real courts of a real empire. But she won’t let me in unless I prove my skill.”
Hassindra wasn’t talking about Kuraya.
“Draal,” Rerdas croaked, understanding.
She smiled viciously. “The sultana’s Poisoners wield true power. I’ve been trying to buy my way in with information, but feld politics are beneath their interest. Helping to unseat a queen, though… That will show them I can play. I belong there.”
Etiana gaped at her. “You’re a Draalish spy?”
“You’d be amazed what people will say in front of me when they think I’m drunk.” She stepped lightly over the grate with distaste and bent toward them. “Listen, you’ve got almost no time before Wester and that red-headed lunatic are back. Get up and leave. Get up or lose your heads.”
She held out her hand.
Etiana took it and was yanked to her feet. She hissed in pain as she stood and tested her injured ankle. Hassindra was more careful with Rerdas, but his shoulder jostled anyway and he nearly buckled again. It took both of them to get him standing.
A bit of broken chain still hung from his wrist, but there was no time to deal with it. Hassindra already had the door open, poking her head into the hallway.
The princess led them into a curving, torch-lit hallway and toward a steep flight of stairs. They made slow progress up the narrow staircase until Hassindra doubled back. She wedged herself on Rerdas’s other side and helped tow him along. He could feel the air growing warmer with every step.
They reached the top of the stairs and emerged in what looked like a tiny garden shed, overgrown with ivy. The garden beyond it glittered with golden sunlight and morning dew, clinging to every silky petal and coating the perfectly trimmed shrubbery like crystals.
“Where are all the guards?” Etiana asked, voice hushed.
“In the palace, herding far too many prisoners. Kuraya has half the noble families of Kirinoll in there. Reinforcements have been sent for.”
The thought of more guards entering the palace grounds pushed Rerdas faster, sneaking from shadow to shadow. They kept clear of the main pathways, and twice they had to cower beneath dark hedges as red-cloaks rushed by.
Neither of them questioned Hassindra until Rerdas realized they were heading back toward the looming towers of the palace. “You’re taking us back in?”
Etiana stopped immediately, but Hassindra barely spared a glance back. “We’re not going back inside. Only to one of the delivery courtyards.” She ducked away again.
Rerdas glanced down at his cousin and tightened the arm he had around her shoulders. They couldn’t very well stay in the garden. Their fates already hung from Hassindra’s claws.
They reached the outermost walls, passing beneath flaring torches.
Rerdas glanced anxiously at his cousin as they walked, examining her face.
He could see sweat gathering at her temples.
The tendons in her neck jumped with every lopsided step.
They both needed a rest, but there was nowhere to hide along the wall.
“Through here,” Hassindra murmured, rapping her knuckles against a wooden door. It cracked open, and Rerdas caught a flash of someone’s face before the stranger stepped back and opened the door just far enough to allow them passage.
A courtyard awaited, mostly obscured by a cart.
It was a massive, ungainly vehicle, already piled high with barrels lashed together with reams of rope.
Two draft horses swung their heads toward them.
Atop the cart, one of the waiting drivers climbed down from her perch, leaping off a short ladder to the ground.
“Fair morning, Highness,” she murmured. “These are the items you need delivered?” Her gaze flickered over Rerdas and Etiana, taking in the blood seeping from his shoulder and his cousin’s swollen ankle.
“Indeed,” Hassindra said. “You’ve space for them?”
The second driver shimmied down to the ground. He helped his companion remove one of the barrels, tipping it off the cart. Rerdas felt his mouth go cottony as they pried the top panel free.
“We’re meant to get inside those?” He clung to Etiana.
“They’re safe enough. There are holes hidden in the sides, and the lids won’t be sealed,” the first driver said.
“And I have something to help with the journey.” Hassindra fished in her pocket. Two small vials hung from her hands, the amber liquid inside flecked with bubbles of something dark and oily. “This will put you to sleep for the duration of the trip.”
Rerdas clamped his mouth shut, his arm tightening around Etiana. He felt her take a deep breath.
“We are grateful, Highness,” she whispered, “but we would prefer not to—”
“You’re not coming without the drink,” the second driver said. “Can’t risk noise at the gate. If you won’t use the drink, we’ll have to knock you out some other way.” He reached for a walking stick leaning against the cart, and Rerdas tugged Etiana backward.
“We’ll drink it,” he mumbled. “But put us into the… the barrels first.”
The drivers exchanged a glance, and the first one shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Rerdas helped Etiana climb into her hiding place and kept his expression blank when Hassindra passed his cousin the vial. Etiana looked up at him, her face pale as chalk, eyes shining. Then they blotted her out, clamping the lid down and sliding the barrel up onto the cart.
The inside of the barrel was almost too small for Rerdas. His knees bumped against his chin, feet wedged below him. The sides were sticky with something that smelled like maple.
Pressed against the curve of the barrel, his shoulder burned.
Hassindra looked down at him, wrinkling her nose. “Get yourself to a medic once you’re out of the capital.” She tossed a velvet purse into the barrel. It fell to Rerdas’s feet with a muted click. She handed him the vial.
Rerdas drained it in one swig and passed it back to her. The bitter taste of cloves coated his tongue and filled his nose.
She gave him a nod of farewell, and the cover was secured. Plunging into darkness sent his pulse blazing back to life in his exhausted body. It was all he could do to keep from clawing his way up and out of his cramped prison.
Hassindra’s word to the drivers was a hushed mumble. The cart lurched and rumbled, picking up speed as they made their bid for escape.
Rerdas leaned his head to the side as best he could, and let the potion trickle out of his mouth onto the floor of the barrel. Pain and terror and darkness he would endure, but there would be no sleep.