Page 110

I swallow and try to calm my heartbeat. “What’s happening?”

“Quint got you out. It’ll be a real challenge to get you back in, because they won’t fall for that twice, but we’ll worry about that then.”

“What are we doing?”

He grabs two leather packs from beside the hearth. He tosses one at me, and I catch it against my chest. Then, without a word, he moves to the window, swings a leg over the sill, and disappears into the darkness.

All the air leaves my lungs in a rush. I sling the pack over one shoulder and peer out the window after him. There’s a thick, heavy rope attached to the ironwork below the window, and it creaks with his weight.

My heart is in my throat again.

This was my idea, but it’s terrifying.

“Remember how to climb a rope?” he whisper-calls up to me.

“Did you think I’d forget in two days?”

He grins, and in an instant Cruel Corrick is gone, leaving Wes in his place. “Then step quick. We’ve got rounds to make.”

The night air is cool, with a bit of wind to grab tendrils of my hair and toss them into my eyes. The dark sky hangs heavy with clouds, only a bit of lighter gray in the distance to reveal the location of the moon. Rain feels like a distant promise that might not be kept. Far across the palace grounds, flames flicker against the sky and my heart stutters, thinking of the attacks, but then I remember the arch of torches we spotted during our carriage ride. Stonehammer’s Arch, the proclamation of love his great-whatever-grandfather once made.

I hope you fell a lot.

Never once.

I’mbarefoot, dew clinging to my feet as I slip through the darkness to follow him. I can’t tell who he is tonight, or which personality is going to show itself when he decides to let me know what’s going on. He’s moving so silently that I don’t dare to make a sound either. I have no idea what guards patrol out here or who we might encounter.

I sure hope he doesn’t expect me to play the role of outlaw in my nightgown. Then again, he’s not dressed like Wes. There must be clothes in these packs.

The farther we walk, the darker the night gets. Grass and dirt squish between my toes, turning Corrick into a shadow, while I’m a ghost in my pale-green nightshift. My hammering pulse has long since slowed to a normal pace. Gradually, the lights of the palace become smaller as the flaming torches of the arch grow closer, dripping sparks.

“Here,” he finally says, slowing to a stop. We’ve been silent for so long that his voice is loud to my ears. He turns to look at me, and there’s tension around his eyes.

“Here what?” I whisper.

“You don’t need to whisper. There are no guards along the rear wall of the palace, because they guard the wall surrounding it. But I wanted us to get closer to the arch in case anyone was looking out the window.”

“You . . . ?you want us to be visible?”

“The opposite, actually.” He unbuttons his jacket and slips free of the sleeves. “Haven’t you noticed yet that when you look at the light, the nearby darkness seems darker?”

“No, I never really—” The breath leaves my lungs in a rush. He’s pulled his shirt over his head.

Corrick’seyes flick skyward. “Maybe you should focus on changing.”

I focus on the shadows and lines of his chest in the darkness. “Uh-huh.”

He throws his shirt at my face, and I laugh under my breath, ducking to unbuckle my own pack. There’s a homespun skirt in some dark color, along with thick socks, rough boots, and a gray stitched chemise. With a start, I realize these are the clothes I was captured in. Freshly laundered, obviously, because they smell like roses and sunshine.

I glance up to find Corrick staring at me. He’s pulled a black shirt over his head, but that’s all. I can’t read his expression in the darkness.

I straighten. “What?”

“You laughed. I wasn’t sure that would ever happen again.”

I blush and look down, glad he can’t see my face. “Well.”

I’m not sure what else to say.