Chapter Three #2
Opal kissed them fiercely and placed them inside the cart. Sven squatted to his haunches and whispered encouraging words before he closed the cart’s door, hiding his children inside.
“We need to move,” he whispered. “Servants will be here within in the next hour to deliver our scheduled lunch.”
Lou pulled Verena purple uniforms out her sack. “We all need to put these on.”
“And Sven and Tovi need to drink Linx’s tonic.” She gestured around her own wheat-colored curls. “To change your hair.”
Right. Tovi’s stomach swam with apprehension, but Linx had shifted her hair color successfully once before. She popped the vial’s cork free and swigged. She winced, sourness stinging her tongue, and passed the vial to Sven next.
Ahead, in an oval mirror decorating the east wall, Tovi’s snow-white braid bled auburn, drawing out green in her eyes. Sven’s cropped hair shifted to a dark brown, tittering closer to black. It made him paler than usual.
With the first part of their disguises dealt with, the five of them dressed in the servant uniforms.
“No one said anything about wearing a dress,” Yennifer growled.
Lou snorted. “You’re in Drystan, wolf.”
“How in the stars above am I supposed to use my bow in this nightmare?” Yennifer attempted to nock an invisible arrow, but the back seams of her dress groaned in retaliation.
“No weapons, no fighting. We leave the castle without bringing any attention to ourselves,” Tovi said.
Each of them grabbed a prop from the cart and exited Sven and Opal’s suite. Sven carried a cake. Opal held a basket of baguettes. Yen balanced a tray of macaroons, Tovi led the charge with a stack of towels and Lou resumed pushing the cart, Bryn and Juni silent as ever.
No one traveled through the hallway on the other side, giving them a clear path to the servants’ hallway beyond a makeshift hidden door.
Riven had discovered most of the tunnels after their successful mission to save Evelyn, but at least the passageways the servants used remained obscured from Tovi’s brother and any lords or ladies who might spy her features past her missing white hair.
Tovi donned a mask of indifference, keeping her eyes straight ahead.
Yet, inside, her heart hammered, and her blood turned to ice.
A cold breeze tunneled through the passageway, and Tovi was yanked back to the docks, the hanging bodies swinging in the breeze.
If they were caught, who would Visha punish?
Opal? Sven? Would she return to the Drengr Village without Yen?
Tovi shuddered, dismissing thoughts that only distracted her from their mission: get Sven, Opal and the littles out of the castle.
They crossed paths with a few real servants, but with heads down and their own tasks at hand, no one paid Tovi and company any mind as they marched back to the kitchens. Work continued in the lower levels of the castle, bustling with activity.
Tovi stayed on course and reached the kitchen’s back door without a single chef taking notice. Lou followed next—thank the Goddess, the littles were out of those dreaded stone walls—then Sven and Opal, and last, Yen.
“To the wagon,” Tovi whispered.
Perhaps fate kept tabs on Tovi that day. The wagon remained in position, its horse munching on weeds growing in the grooves between stones.
“Uniforms off,” Lou hissed. “Prepare for a checkpoint.”
Sven and Tovi hauled the cart with Bryn and Juni into the back of the wagon. Behind the wagon’s fabric covering, they all changed out of their servants uniforms, dressing in extra attire stashed in the wagon—bloody hel, Lou had thought of everything.
“The three of you, ride in the back,” Tovi whispered to Opal, Sven, and Yen. “Heads down, and Yen, if needed . . .”
The werewolf nodded. “Understood.”
In the castle, confrontation was too great a risk, but outside, they were so close to the village, they had the advantage. They’d battle their way down to the docks if needed.
Tovi changed into attire more suited for a commoner than servant or queen. Food stained the weathered wool, and for safe measure, she smudged dirt on her cheeks and the tip of her nose.
Lou pocketed her red-rimmed glasses for rusty, wiry ones. With the others situated in the back, they climbed atop the wagon’s bench and set the horse in motion towards the east checkpoint. Less guarded than the front, but a slightly steeper climb down.
It’d have to do.
Guards stepped ahead of their path, blocking the exit with hands held up.
Tovi held her breath. To make matters worse, rain quickened, spilling from the gray sky.
At least the color shielded their features, and as the rain pelted the guards face, cold brimming in the air, he checked the wagon swiftly, eager to get out of the rain and back into the enclosed post.
Lou urged the horse forward and released a pent-up breath as they left the castle grounds.
Tovi didn’t dare to, not until she scented the river over the rain.
The largest ship at the docks creaked as it bobbed side to side, and a familiar set of pink-haired buns stood out amongst the gray and black of Drystan Village.
Lou brought the wagon to a screeching halt at the docks, and Tovi jumped down and onto the cobblestone street.
Opal and Sven emerged from the back of the wagon, Bryn and Juni in their arms.
“We’re almost there,” Tovi whispered.
Rain poured, clearing the street and docks as they descended down the pier to last ship tied at the end.
Bétar paced by the ship’s ramp. A lantern caught the rusted plaque bolted into the ship’s belly, reading The Sel.
“Boats and vampyrs don’t seem natural,” he muttered to Tovi.
A vampyr pirate, Jasp, strode down the ramp and smirked. “We sail at night, wolf.”
Bétar bristled, but Tovi stepped between them before the tension escalated.
“Jasp,” she said.
He tipped his head, fangs jutting over his bottom lip. “Calling in a lot of favors lately. Smuggling werewolves is one thing, but now were dipping our toes into the royal family. Risky business.”
Tovi sighed. “Tell him I appreciate it.”
Jasp scoffed. “Tell ’em yourself.”
Tovi stiffened, searching the ship for its captain, a male she hadn’t seen in decades. “Is he here?”
“No,” Jasp said. “In Morrow. He’ll expect a visit eventually. Is this them?” His attention landed on Sven and his family, the children whispering about cake while their mother promised them treats would have to wait.
Tovi dropped a pouch filled with coin into Jasp’s awaiting hand. “That should cover their passage east.”
Jasp weighed the pouch up and down, the gold and gems jingling in his hold. “Aye, it will indeed, but don’t think money can keep buying you time. Captain’s waited almost a hundred years to speak to ya.” He jutted his chin towards Opal and the littles. “Follow me.”
Sven ground his teeth, staring off at his wife and children as the boarded the ship. His gaze snapped to Tovi, and brother and sister stared at the other under the spilling rain of Drystan.
“Riven’s declared himself king,” Sven whispered.
“What?” Tovi hissed. “You’re just now telling me this.”
“I couldn’t jeopardize getting Bryn and Juni out of the castle,” he said, tone stern.
“I’d never risk them, Sven,” she said. “I’m not Mother and Father—”
“I know.” He swallowed, jade eyes dimming. “You can never be too sure as a parent.”
Tovi sighed, her insides twisting. The words, I understand, tickled on her lips, but she hadn’t the slightest empathy for what Sven endured with his littles as Riven’s prisoners. Yet, she knew what Riven was after, bringing back his wife and child from the dead.
“Besides,” Sven said, “I was protecting you, my sister, as well. Riven’s at his wit’s end, I hardly recognize him.
The brother we once had is gone. Visha is worse.
Unhinged. If they’d caught you . . .” He shook his head, exhaling.
“What you did today, for Opal and me, means far more than you’ll ever know. ”
Tovi dragged her younger brother into a tight hug. “You know where to go?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Good,” she whispered.
He laid his hands onto her shoulders. “You are the rightful queen, Tovi. It’s time you assumed the throne.”
“At this point, I’d have to—”
“Fight Riven for the claim, yes,” Sven said. “And kill him if you must.”
Without another word, Sven climbed the ramp, and the Sel’s quarterdeck whooshed into a frenzy of activity as the crew prepared to depart.
Tovi turned, heart aching, as she faced north again, Drystan Castle looming over her like some ferocious beast ready to devour her resolve.
Her freed family fled on the ship behind her.
Her dead subjects swayed in the breeze to the west. Her home village crept with muck, mists, and misery from the curse all around.
Tovi stepped foot onto the cobblestone street again and trudged through a puddle. Her reflection, marred by auburn hair, stared back at her with sharp eyes.
“What’s next?” Yen asked at her shoulder.
Tovi’s heart raced, her mind reeling with possibilities, but it always came back to the same one, over and over.
“We need to leave Drystan.”
“Are you sure?” Bétar asked. “After what Sven told you?”
Fair, Tovi thought. Though she had a team well-equipped to break her family out of the castle, she’d need a much larger force to face Riven and his claims to the throne.
An army.
Tovi nodded. “Once Riven realizes they’re gone, he’ll tear through the village. It’s not safe to remain here.”
She glanced one last time at the Drystan Castle and swore the next time she soaked in its mightiness, it’d be her throne inside it.