28. Into the Pan
Into the Pan
Larissa
I n the dim light filtering in between the boxes, Larissa met Halla’s eyes.
It was, ironically, the fear in Halla’s eyes that calmed Larissa’s thumping heart.
She scooted toward her sister, laying a hand on her arm and pressing Halla’s head onto her shoulder.
They sat that way in silence as minutes passed.
They’d heard Darien’s voice and what Larissa assumed was the sentry’s voice a while ago, but they hadn’t been able to make out more than muffled voices since.
Larissa waited, her fingers tapping against her lap.
Halla stiffened against her side. The pressure of the gun was digging into the small of Larissa’s back, but rather than regretting the pain, she took comfort in its presence.
Already, she was prepared to pull it from her waistband at the first sign of trouble.
She wouldn’t let anyone take Halla.
Still, the waiting ate at her. When Helga slowed to a stop, Larissa’s intestines spasmed in her stomach.
She could have dealt with discovery, would have fought her way out, but the uncertainty constricted her heart with fear.
The pressure on her chest combined with the thick air suffocated her.
It was like her very skin was stretching to bursting point.
She needed out. Larissa imagined shoving past the boxes, gulping in fresh air, but then Halla would be revealed.
So she sat, drowning in her silence.
A thump of feet hit the truck bed, shifting one of the boxes. Larissa and Halla flinched from the sudden light peeking into their hiding place.
Anara peered in. “Ready to get out of there?”
“You have no idea.” Halla grabbed Anara’s hand, pushing out of the enclosed space. “That was worse than the first time. I forgot how claustrophobic it gets in there.”
Larissa accepted Anara’s hand next, blinking at her surroundings.
They were in a deep alleyway between two tall, degrading buildings.
The paint, whatever color it had once been, had long ago been stripped away by age and abuse, leaving an odd grayish color mixed with dirt and water stains.
Parts of it were crumbling. Someone had drawn three intersecting triangles on the wall to Larissa’s right.
Trash and other indescribable matter littered the street, smelling worse than it looked.
At the end of the alleyway, Larissa made out a road, likely the one they had come down.
They had found their way inside of Lystheim, the heart of Perle, but she felt no relief.
A countdown ticked within her mind, marking the moments before they were discovered.
With the city crawling with sentries, it was only a matter of time.
That time would be cut even shorter if Calder or the draugrs had followed them to Perle.
Pappa’s words came back to her. Get in, get out, and get home.
Larissa swallowed against the memory; there was no going home.
A quick glance at Helga’s cab revealed an unconscious sentry, but Larissa’s gaze settled on Darien. He leaned heavily against the dash, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.
Without thought, she walked toward him, laying her hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”
He tilted his head toward her, his hair tickling the back of her hand. A smile played on his mouth even as his eyes remained closed. “I’m alright, Lov.”
Larissa froze. She recognized the endearment.
Darien had called her that sometimes, in a different world, a different life.
If Darien realized what he’d said, he showed no sign of it as he returned his head to his hands.
Larissa withdrew her hand, crossing her arms against her chest. Turning, she found herself face to face with Anara.
“Will he be okay?” Larissa asked.
“Just fine,” Anara said. “ Galdr takes its toll, and he hasn’t used it like this in some time.
” Bending down, she slipped a small bottle from a side compartment in her boot.
It was the same green mixture she’d used to heal their injuries on the farm.
She handed it to Darien. “Don’t drink it.
I’ve hardly got any left, but take a couple sniffs. It’ll help.”
He accepted the bottle, inhaling deeply.
Anara moved around to the driver’s side. “Larissa, Halla, help me with him.”
She yanked open the door, catching the unconscious sentry’s body before it could hit the ground. Larissa rushed forward to grab the sentry’s feet. Together, the two girls carried the sentry to the truck’s bed, where Halla waited with wide eyes.
“What do I do?” she asked.
“Find some rope and something to gag him with.” Anara grunted as she lowered the boy to the ground.
“We’re going to leave him here?” Larissa asked as Halla searched the truck bed.
Anara cast her a hard look. “That’s the only option, unless you want to kill him.”
Halla stopped searching. She looked between Larissa and Anara, her hands clasped around a coil of rope.
Larissa’s palm found the grip of the gun under her shirt.
Anara watched, clearly leaving the choice up to Larissa.
It was the smart decision. If they left the sentry here, even bound and gagged, it would only be a matter of time before he was able to call for help or get free.
It was the same logic that Larissa had used to refuse helping the runaways in the forest.
“We can’t,” she said. “It’s not right.”
To Larissa’s surprise, Anara smiled. “I knew Lovisa was still in there.”
“Still where?” Darien asked. The color had returned to his cheeks, but he was frowning at the sentry on the ground. “What are we going to do with him?”
“Bind him,” Anara answered, plucking the bottle from Darien’s hands and returning it to her boot. “Just make it tight and pray to the gods it holds him until we return.”
They made quick work of it. Darien surprised them all with his knotting abilities, a skill he had gained in his recent life as a farm hand.
They used one of Pappa’s shirts to gag the boy then hid him in the same nook that had recently housed Larissa and Halla.
Once they’d reorganized the boxes, the boy had completely vanished.
There was nothing else they could do but pray.
Anara was the last to jump down from the truck bed, and when she did, she carried four knee-length jackets with wide hoods. She handed one to each of them and pulled the hood around her face.
“The citizens won’t be looking for new faces,” Anara explained, “but these should help hide you regardless.”
Their biggest problem was finding a way to hide Darien’s sword, which was much more noticeable than the gun Larissa slipped in her waistband.
In the end, they strapped it to his back and gave him one of Dal’s jackets that was just big enough to hide the bulk of his weapon.
It also made the sword nearly impossible to access.
If all went according to plan, he would not need it.
Larissa touched her gun and readjusted the jacket, praying that she would not need it either.
“I’ll lead the way from above.” Anara said. Shifting into a raven, she took to the sky and perched on a swaying cable that hung across the mouth of the alley. She cawed, indicating their path was clear.
Larissa swallowed, and yet, she could not ease the dryness in her throat. She knelt next to Halla and adjusted her hood. “Remember your promise.”
Halla’s freckles popped against her pale cheeks. “I remember, Lara.”
“Ready?” Darien asked.
Larissa nodded. Some small part of her was ready to see the city that had supposedly once been her home. They reached the mouth of the alley, and Larissa took in her first impression of Lystheim.
War had come to the city. Evidently, it had never left.
Narrow streets ran jagged lanes between decrepit buildings, a combination of old and new, but all falling into ruin.
On every street, half-destroyed buildings sat next to residentials repaired with patchwork and prayers.
Smashed up against one another and stacked on top, the buildings allowed room only for the roads snaking between them and up toward the center of the city.
Drying clothes hung out of windows and on cables running overhead between the buildings.
According to Anara, only a quarter of those cables worked to provide electricity to the citizens.
The rest had shorted out years ago, left to fade and crack in the sun.
The smell Larissa associated with the alley was not much better in the streets.
A surprising amount of foot traffic occupied the pavement in front of them, though Larissa attributed it more to the lack of overall space than the actual number of people.
She cast one last look at Helga at the far end of the alley.
Unease made her skin itch. They would come back for Helga if they could. If they made it back.
If they made it out.
Another caw cut off Larissa’s doubts as Anara swayed on a dead cable hanging above them. She stretched her wings, then glided to the next cable, indicating the path they should take.
“It’s so big.” Halla’s hushed tone betrayed her awe.
Halla was finally getting her wish to see the city, but all Larissa could see was devastation, made worse by a pesky overlay in her memories that told her this was not the Perle kingdom she remembered. The look of distaste on Darien’s face told Larissa he felt the same.
“It’s so…” He hesitated. “Different.”
It’s broken, Larissa thought, but she kept that to herself. She adjusted her hood, tugging it particularly hard on the right side to cover her scar. “Come on. Anara said we’ll find the physician’s shop in the central market.”
They clumped together as they walked, keeping to the side of the road as they followed Anara through the streets that wound deeper into the city.
It wasn’t long before they were huffing in exertion.
All of the roads were built at an incline, running toward the center.
Far off in the distance, Larissa occasionally caught glimpses of the top of the Second Wall that separated the common people from the Court of the Aristocracy.
Whenever the wall came into sight, Larissa would pull her hood forward and resist the urge to walk in the opposite direction.
As time passed, Larissa wondered if Anara knew the way; they seemed to wander the streets without direction, at times doubling back or making sharp turns.
Larissa’s fear ebbed into a dull worry upon realizing the other citizens traveled without a look in their direction. They walked with purpose in mind. They didn’t stop to say hello or ask questions. Keeping their heads down, they spoke in low tones and only to those who accompanied them.
Halla crept next to Larissa, her fingers brushing the back of Larissa’s hand. A young woman disappeared down an alleyway after catching Larissa’s eye. Halla edged closer to her sister.
“What’s wrong with them?”
“I don’t know,” Larissa answered, but in her heart, she did.
“They weren’t always like this,” Darien whispered. “The people of Perle were more reserved, yes, but they were also kind and welcoming. These people are broken.”
My people .
Larissa jerked away, but she could not escape the voice inside her mind. She finally recognized it as belonging to Princess Lovisa. Her past had been calling out to her this whole time, only now bitterness bled from the mental intrusion.
Larissa looked in dismay at the city around her, seeing the brokenness Darien had so aptly described. Lovisa’s sorrow welled up, mixing in with Larissa’s fear. The swirling emotions left her feeling distinctly sick.
Halla paused mid-stride. “Do you hear that?”
Larissa started to shake her head, then stopped.
She did hear it. The sound grew louder with every step they took.
It was the low rumble of voices that accompanied a crowd of people.
The three looked at one another in relief; surely, they had found the market square.
They hurried in that direction, turning down the next road.
A large crowd had gathered in front of them. They hurried forward but Larissa slowed as a loud squawk rang out from behind them. Anara drifted to a lower cable, rustling her wings and shifting her feet. Larissa stopped, “Guys, I don’t think—”
But when she looked, Halla and Darien were already at the back of the crowd, their eyes focused on whatever was ahead of them. In her hurry, Halla’s hood had fallen back, revealing her bright yellow hair.
Larissa shook her head and cursed. “Kings and Queens!”
She ran after them, hearing the flap of Anara’s wings following close behind her.
She skidded to a stop, nearly toppling into Halla and the man in front of her, who shot them both an angry glance.
She muttered an apology, but the man paid her no heed, his attention already diverted to something else.
Larissa yanked Halla’s hood back up, concealing her young features.
They stood in the middle of the large, open courtyard.
Around them, the crowd grew. More people came in behind them, enmeshing them in the gathering mob.
Many hid behind hoods of their own, but others stood with heads uncovered, their clothes dripping with wealth and prestige.
All faced the wide, raised platform before them.
The stage was too packed with people for Larissa to see what was being sold.
Darien’s mouth was set in a grim, hard line. Larissa was about to ask him what was bothering him when she heard it. More specifically, heard her .
On the stage, a small girl was shoved forward. Above the clanking of metal that encircled the girl’s neck, wrists, and ankles, Larissa heard her cry out. Larissa recognized that voice in an instant and, from the sound of Halla’s gasp, so did she.
It was one of the runaways from the forest.