Chapter 17
Aliya
Aliya pulled her mount to a stop as massive stone walls came into view.
Towering turrets every few hundred paces lined the battlements, their sides peppered with tall, thin windows perfect for shielding archers from an attack.
The top of the wall was covered with a substance that shimmered iridescent like hair oil on the surface of water.
It reflected red, blue and purple depending on how she turned her head. Deep in her core, her power flickered.
The sight chilled something in her gut as her instincts warned her to stay far away from whatever the slick material was.
She swallowed. “This is it, then?”
Beside her, Zadé nodded.
“I don’t see any movement in the towers or along the walls. No sentries.” But that didn’t necessarily mean much if they were all clustered in the turrets or stationed in another part of the fortress. “Is that normal?”
Zadé shrugged, but the corners of her lips were turned down as she studied the behemoth before them.
“I dunno, Princess.” She chewed the inside of her cheek.
“Seems ta me it’d be smart ta have guards keepin’ an eye on the prisoners, but if’n th’ prisoners’re locked up tight…
” She paused, and the other possibility—there were no longer any living inmates—hung in the air between them.
Taking a breath, Zadé continued, “There’d be no reason t’ guard ‘em.”
Aliya swallowed. “You know someone in there, don’t you?”
Zadé’s lips pressed into a thin line as she nodded. “Hope so. A friend who disappeared from a battle half a century ago. We never found his body. Dalyor was no coward—he wouldn’t’ve run from the fight, if’n he’d had a choice.”
Aliya turned her focus back to the prison. “So, how do we do this?”
Zadé lifted one shoulder before dropping it. “Dunno. Never done a jailbreak a’fore.” She eyed Aliya. “Maybe we can just ride up, announce who yeh are, n’ demand the prisoners be released?”
Aliya stared at the imposing building. Until now, their course of action was comfortably blurry in the undefined future.
Now that it was staring right at her… “And if they don’t believe me?
” It would’ve been more credible if she’d traveled with a guard retinue, like Malkov had.
But there’d been no way to pull that off without revealing her absence to the council and other nobles back home.
Zadé’s hand dropped to the sword at her hip. “Then we’ll have ta convince ‘em.”
Aliya eyed Zadé’s flask of whiskey, tempted to ask for a few sips of liquid courage, but if they ended up in a fight with an entire prison worth of soldiers, she’d need her full wits about her.
Taking a deep breath, she nudged her horse’s ribs with her heels. “We may as well get on with this.”
Zadé gave her a subdued smile. “That’s the spirit, Princess.” Flicking her reins, she followed, dropping back and to Aliya’s left. “Show no fear.”
The gates of the giant portcullis loomed in front of them. Locked.
“Hello?” Aliya called, eyeing the motionless gatehouse above them. “Anyone here?”
The silence stretched for one minute, two.
A breeze gusted through the gate, carrying the faint scent of ozone with it.
The hair on the back of Aliya’s neck rose. Something wasn’t right, and the iridescent stuff covering the top of the walls was making her magic churn in her gut. She didn’t want to linger here any longer than necessary.
“Well, this sucks,” Zadé muttered.
Aliya nodded, pulling her canteen from her belt. Tilting her head back, she took several deep swallows. Tucking the container into her saddle bags, she dismounted and handed her reins to Zadé. “Here. Hold my horse. And bring my clothes when I get the gate up.”
Closing her eyes, Aliya pictured the same furry kitten she’d become to escape Malkov on her wedding day. Her skin tingled as fur bloomed and suddenly her trousers and tunic were billowing to the ground around her.
“Holy houses, Princess!” Zadé’s exclamation had Aliya’s whiskers twitching in a smile. “I’ve never seen yeh do that in person a’fore!”
Aliya bit back the urge to apologize. They were here for the prisoners, and this was the most efficient way to get past the locked gate.
Weaving side to side as she acclimated to four legs rather than two, Aliya toddled forward. Squeezing between two bars, she skittered into the shadows, pressing herself low as her kitten eyes scanned the vast expanse in front of her.
Nothing moved except a clump of sagebrush blowing by as the wind tickled her whiskers.
The faint stench of feces and decay hid beneath the ozone, much stronger now that she wasn’t in her human shape.
Twitching her nose to clear the unpleasant smell, she poked her head around the corner. The door to the gatehouse loomed overhead.
The inner building of the prison consisted of square blocks of stone with mortar in between. The surfaces had been polished to a high sheen, likely to make it harder for inmates to scale. Though, with the weird iridescent substance coating the top, she doubted many had tried.
Glancing through the courtyard one more time for any sign of life, Aliya studied the gatehouse.
She’d need to be human-sized, with opposable thumbs, to get the door open.
With her clothing still outside, she’d have to make sure she was alone.
Otherwise, it could cause more of a stir than she was ready for.
Nothing moved. It was like the entire prison had been evacuated. Goosebumps raised on her arms as her stomach twisted. “Let’s get this done” she mumbled.
The door latch came into reach as Aliya released the kitten and regained her normal form.
The world righted itself—walking was so much easier when she only had two legs to coordinate.
Grabbing the doorknob, she spun it and tugged the door open.
Slipping inside, she pulled it closed, pressing herself against the wall.
The rough-hewn stones dug into her exposed skin.
The ladder to the upper battlements stood in front of her, like a sentinel escorting her to some sort of trial. Or execution.
Swallowing hard enough to pop her ears, Aliya placed one bare foot on the wooden rungs and ascended.
The loft above the portcullis sported two narrow archery-style windows. Several quivers of arrows rested in the corner, and a complicated system of pulleys, ropes and levers for raising and lowering the gate graced the opposite side.
It would, of course, make things too easy to label each lever with something like “Pull to Raise.”
Grabbing the first bar, she tugged. It was stuck, refusing to move, even when she dropped, pulling with her entire body weight.
Okay, then. Wrong one.
Moving on to the second, she wrenched it down.
Gears to her right spun, sliding the thick rope between them.
Zadé’s voice drifted up from outside. “Great job, Princess!”
Once the mechanism quieted, Aliya grabbed a metal dowel leaning against the contraption and wedged it into a loop adjacent to the lever, locking it in place.
The door to the gate house opened.
“Princess?”
“Zadé!” Aliya resisted the urge to cover her breasts with her arms. She was still overhead, out of sight. “Can you toss my clothes up here?”
There was an un-ladylike snort from below, followed by the soft brush of fabric over wood as her balled-up tunic and trousers landed near where the ladder peeked above the loft’s edge. “Didn’t surprise any guards naked, didja?” Zadé asked. “I imagine that would’a caused quite th’ ruckus.”
Aliya rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you would’ve loved the entertainment.
” Smoothing her shirt over her stomach, Aliya stepped into view, where she could check on Zadé.
“But no. This place feels empty, haunted.” She rubbed her hands over her upper arms, as though the heat could banish the goosebumps. “I think something bad happened here.”
Zadé’s face turned somber. “Likely many evil things have been done here,” she muttered. “If we’re lucky, we won’t know the half o’ them.”
Aliya’s eyebrows furrowed. What did that mean? She opened her mouth to ask, but froze. Zadé had a friend imprisoned here. She could be sensitive enough to not rub fresh salt over that wound with irrelevant questions.
Climbing down the ladder, she came to rest next to Zadé. The other woman handed over her dagger, which Aliya secured to her waist. “Where are the horses?”
Zadé tilted her head to the left. “On the other side o’ the gate. They decided that was the best patch o’ grass, so I tied their reins t’ the portcullis. May as well leave ‘em there fer a quick getaway.”
Aliya nodded, drawing her blade from its scabbard. “In that case, let’s do this.”
Zadé studied her as a crooked grin curved one corner of her lips. “Thought yeh’d never ask, Princess.” Pulling the door to the gatehouse open, they stepped into the courtyard.
Zadé slipped in front of Aliya as they approached a door leading to the inner ring of buildings. “Best ta let me go first.”
Aliya wasn’t stupid enough to argue. Not only did Zadé have more battle experience than she did, her instincts were screaming for them to turn and flee.
Her gut churned, like when Patrick was whisking eggs for a breakfast scramble.
The sensation made her knees weak. Something had tainted the natural magic of the area, and the way her power was reacting didn’t bode well.
A wooden catwalk stretched over a pit lined with the same iridescent material on the walls. It almost pulsed in time to Aliya’s heartbeat.
Other than the phantom magical essences woven into Malkov’s cloak as he’d tried to kill her, she’d never seen anything so creepy.
“Zadé,” Aliya whispered, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
“Me, too, Princess. But we’re here, we can’t turn back now.”
Aliya chewed on her lower lip. She could do exactly that and wait for reinforcements before they investigated the bowels of Brisimin.
But she choked back her protest. This was important to Zadé.
If Aliya had a friend or loved one imprisoned here, Zadé would be first in line to help without a second thought.
The least she could do was offer the woman the same.
Swallowing, she leaned out and peered over the edge.
There were still no guards nor any signs of the prisoners.
Beneath them were several platforms about the length of a grown man and one to two paces across, covered in that mysterious iridescent material.
Studying her surroundings for a way to get down, she spotted a pallet mounted on two tracks off to one side of the pit that raised and lowered from the catwalk to the ground.
Grabbing Zadé’s upper arm, Aliya gestured to the contraption. “Over there. It looks like a bigger version of the dumbwaiters Malkov has throughout the castle.” At least, between the kitchen and his suite, but they were likely elsewhere, as well. The servants made frequent use of them.
Zadé tore her attention away from below to where Aliya indicated.
After a heartbeat, she dipped her head. “We can check that out in a minute. But first,” she pointed to where the walkway disappeared behind another door across the pit, “I wanna see what’s over there.
” She met Aliya’s eyes. “Never leave an enemy at yer back, an’ all. ”
Aliya nodded. That was smart. Hence, why Zadé was the general and she was not.
A few heartbeats later and they were on the other side. Zadé twisted the handle. The door swung open on well-oiled hinges.
Other than the gate at the front, there wasn’t a lock in sight. “Isn’t this supposed to be a labor camp?” Aliya asked.
Zadé chewed the inside of her cheek. “So rumor said. Rumor ain’t always right, though. If’n I know Malkov, this was nothin’ so simple.”
A raptor of some sort screamed overhead, making Aliya startle.
Zadé glanced at the bird as it flew past, then at Aliya. “Little jumpy, are we?”
Aliya furrowed her eyebrows. “Aren’t you?” She rubbed her arms and hugged herself. “Can’t you sense the wrongness here? It’s like someone took the area’s natural energy and poured dirty oil all over it.”
Zadé studied her for a moment, eyes narrowed as if trying to determine if she was joking.
Finally, she pulled back. “No, Princess. I don’t feel anything.
But I wouldn’t be surprised, what with Malkov’s obsession with stealing other people’s power and all…
” Her words drifted off as her gaze unfocused as she gazed over Aliya’s shoulder. “No way…”
“What?”
When Zadé didn’t answer, Aliya grabbed her arm and shook the woman. “What is it?”
The jostling brought Zadé back to the present. Licking her lips, she swallowed, her voice raspy as if her throat had dried. “There were rumors he—Malkov—had figured out a way to steal magic.”
Aliya frowned. That was no secret. “Yeah. He could. It nearly killed me.”
Zadé waved her arms at Aliya as if brushing away a pesky insect. “No, not like that. I mean, with him not being here an’ all. They said he developed somethin’ that’d do it for him.” She pointed at the shiny slimy material coating the walls. “Is that what feels off ta yeh, Princess?”
Aliya squinted, studying the bulwark with new insight. “I don't know. Perhaps?” She didn’t want to get close enough to find out. Nor did she want to stand here any longer than they had to. “We should locate the other prisoners.”