Page 14

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The bells were chiming five when Marya and I finally left the ambassadorial wing, after several tense moments of lurking around corners while castle guards marched past.

“I’ll drop you off in the arboretum while I gather provisions,” she said brusquely, peering around the corner of the alcove where we were currently hiding. “You can hide in a shrubbery or something until I come get you.”

My stomach churned—a reminder both that I hadn’t eaten the entire day, and that my condition could flare again at any time. “I need to stop by my chambers first.”

Marya looked at me as if I were the one with hooves. “Have you lost your mind? The royal suites are crawling with guards.”

“It’s important,” I insisted. “There’s something there I can’t leave without.” Not to mention returning to my chambers might give me an opportunity to find out what had happened to my retinue during the attack—and potentially gather more clues about who had sent the assassin.

“Well, you’ll have to leave without it anyway. I’d rather lick the bottoms of that pompous ambassador’s boots than sashay in there so you can fetch your underthings. Are you trying to get me arrested, too?”

“Then I’ll go by myself. And I wouldn’t take such a risk for my underthings. ”

Marya snorted. “By yourself, my ass.”

I folded my arms. “I won’t be able to make the journey without it.”

Marya eyed me suspiciously for a long moment. Then she blew out an irritated breath. “Fine. I’ll go get it. What is this critical item, anyway?”

“It’s a personal matter, and I have to go with you,” I insisted, though I didn’t relish the thought any more than she did. “It’s in a chest with an Adept-forged lock that opens only to my touch.” And Julieta’s, but Marya didn’t need to know that.

The captain of the guard thumbed her saber hilt with an alarmingly speculative expression. “Well, maybe if I took just a portion of you…”

Removing body parts was out of the question, but… I flexed my hands, recalling the newly formed golden marks. If I’d learned anything since arriving in Gildenheim, it was that magic didn’t always work the way I expected.

“A toe, perhaps?” Marya was musing. “Or maybe an ear?”

“Do you have a handkerchief?” I asked her.

Her brows rose. “I didn’t expect you to actually agree to this.”

“I’m not. Give me a cloth. I have a better idea.”

“Precedent suggests otherwise,” Marya grumbled, but she handed me a handkerchief. I dropped to one knee and rolled up the leg of my trousers.

The cuts on my hand had healed instantly, leaving those strange scars, but the scratches on my shins from the window glass had clotted over like a wound was supposed to do. I picked off one of the larger scabs, wincing a little as I did so, and pressed Marya’s handkerchief to it until it darkened.

Marya’s nose wrinkled as I held the bloody cloth in her direction. “I think I would have preferred a toe.”

I thrust it at her face. “Do you want to help Aric or not?”

It was the right thing to say. Marya gave me a disgruntled look, but shoved the handkerchief into her pocket.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “But if this doesn’t work, I absolutely insist on a toe. And I haven’t changed my mind about the shrubbery.”

No shrubberies were involved after all, but I did spend an undignified hour or so sitting in a broom closet and trying not to sneeze before Marya returned from her mission. To my dismay, she’d managed to grab only three bottles of tonic—barely enough to get me through a single flare, let alone multiple. But it was better than none, and she’d taken a considerable risk to get them, so I didn’t voice my disappointment.

We threaded our way through the arboretum, making our way back to the derelict stable loaded with two saddlebags of provisions, a sword, and a saddle—Marya carrying most of it, to my relief. At the edges of the world, the sky was turning the rich, fiery hue of the hothouse oranges Evito had offered. Nearly sunset. Marya had explained that at dusk the guard would change, leaving a narrow window in which we could flee the castle grounds. We had to hurry.

When we reached the stable, Marya dropped the saddle on the cold earth outside the yawning doorway. Her brow shone with sweat, despite the chill. The rain had given way to scattered clouds and a brisk breeze, promising a frigid ride.

“I’ll make certain the side gate isn’t watched, but you’ll have to move quickly. The guards will be on high alert.” She glanced into the building, where Aric was a slash of white against the darkness. When she turned back to me, her scowl had returned.

“Aric’s a good man.” She’d lowered her voice so only I would hear. “Or horse. Whatever he is now. On two legs or four, he’s worth more than you take him for.”

“I’m not sure what exactly you think I take him for,” I said coolly. “Except my husband. Which he is, for better or worse.”

Marya’s eyes narrowed.

I sighed, reining in my irritation. It wasn’t her fault I’d married her lover. She was only someone who cared about Aric and was trying to keep him safe. She probably thought I’d forced him into marrying me, just as Aric had believed until this morning. Her hostility was understandable.

“I swore to protect him, Captain Dai,” I said. “I stand by my promises.”

Marya studied me suspiciously, then gave a curt nod. “You’d better take care of him. If anything happens to Aric…”

“Yes,” I said dryly, “you’ll run me through. I know.”

She eyed me warily, suspecting me of mocking her. I looked back, unflinching.

Then, unexpectedly, Marya flashed a smile, quick and brash as lightning. “Good. Don’t forget it.” She cast another look towards the stable. “Aric?”

He emerged cautiously, testing each step as if he expected the mud to swallow him whole. As the light caught him, he glowed like a beacon. Of course he had to be a white horse.

Marya hesitated, clearly struggling with what to say. She fidgeted with the hilt of her saber.

“You’d better come back safe, you muckhead.” Her voice was rougher than usual. “I wish I were going with you.”

Aric turned his head towards me. - Tell her to be careful. And…- He swished his tail, his hesitation roiling through our mental bond. - Never mind. Just tell her that.-

I conveyed the message, selfishly relieved that neither of them had said more. For all that Marya wished she could come with us—and for all that her skills would have been useful—I didn’t relish the prospect of translating for my husband and his lover all the way to the Damarian border.

“You know me,” Marya said, shrugging.

-Exactly why I’m worried,- Aric muttered. He didn’t ask me to relay that to Marya, and I didn’t offer.

“I should go,” Marya said reluctantly. “I can delay the guards to give you a little more time. Wait a few minutes, and then head to the gate.” Abruptly, she barked a laugh. “By the Lady, part of me still thinks you’re having me on and this is all some elaborate prank.”

Before I could answer, she turned her back with one more look at Aric and was gone into the slant of late afternoon sunlight. I watched her vanish among the trees. Had we met under other circumstances, I suspected I might have liked her quite a bit.

-I see you’ve acquired a weapon.- Aric was eyeing the rapier at my waist suspiciously.

“And supplies.” I gestured at the provisions Marya had obtained. I also had a new dagger strapped inside my sleeve, a little heavier than the one I’d brought from home. But given Aric’s earlier pique about my concealed blade, I wasn’t about to tell him of its existence, even with our newly established truce.

Aric caught sight of the saddle. He took a step backwards, nostrils flaring. - I am not subjecting myself to that device.-

“Well, I can’t ride bareback,” I retorted. “Not if we want to make any headway.” Only the strength of fear had let me cling to him during our flight from the castle, and my muscles were feeling the aftereffects of that effort. If I tried riding bareback to the Damarian border, I would spend more time falling off than actually riding.

-I don’t recall agreeing to let you ride me at all. Why is this necessary? Are you not able to walk?-

I folded my arms. No, sometimes I wasn’t well enough to walk, but I wasn’t going to reveal such a vulnerability to Aric. “We need to reach the border quickly. Which means riding. Now. Before we miss our chance and I’m arrested for murdering you.”

Not to mention the urgency of clearing my name before I ran out of tonic—or the Council and my parents got wind of the situation and decided to get involved, which would only precipitate the threat of war. Speed was desirable on all fronts.

Aric pawed a hoof at the damp earth, only to recoil as muddy water splattered. I could feel his reluctance, like a pin pricking at the back of my mind. It was a strange sensation.

“Besides,” I added, “the coronation is supposed to take place in six days. Unless you’re willing to delay it…”

-Five days now, since this one’s almost over. And the coronation cannot be delayed.- He huffed his annoyance. - Fine. You may ride. But I absolutely refuse to wear a bridle.-

It took longer than it should have to ready our gear and saddle Aric. I was clumsy from fatigue and nerves, and he kept flinching every time I fumbled. I clenched my teeth, willing myself not to snap at him—he’d been a horse for less than a day, after all; I couldn’t expect him to be comfortable with being saddled. Finally, after several false starts, the tack was on, the bags hung. I scrambled onto Aric’s back, settled myself in the saddle, and we were off.

It was strange to ride without reins. My hands didn’t know what to do with themselves, and it didn’t help that I was reluctant to touch Aric any more than strictly necessary. I settled for clutch ing the pommel with both fists, as if I were a child just learning to ride.

Aric moved at a steady pace, covering ground much faster than I could have on foot—even though he twitched and flinched each time a branch brushed his sides. In a startlingly short time, the castle wall peeked between the arboretum’s firs, bathed a bloody red in the waning light.

I gripped the pommel more tightly. My hands were clammy, despite the breeze’s pervasive chill. If we were stopped now, recognized now, everything would be lost. My rendezvous with Tatiana. My chance to reverse the spell. My retinue, and my chance of securing their freedom.

My heart constricted. I was leaving Julieta and my guards behind in prison. I knew I didn’t have a better choice. Even with Marya’s help, I didn’t stand a chance of breaking them out. The best way to win their freedom was to return with Aric in human form.

And yet it felt like I was abandoning the people who mattered most to me. The people who relied on me. The people who had given up their own lives to protect mine. Once again, as my parents had anticipated, I was failing.

I tried to shrug away my guilt. I couldn’t afford to think of Catalina or Julieta now. I was making the right choice. The only choice. There was only ever one.

They would understand.

Aric paused at the edge of the trees, assessing the route ahead. His tail swished, the end of it brushing against my shins. I flinched like a startled horse myself at the contact. At least now I was wearing trousers—thank the seas for that admittedly thin layer between us.

I leaned forward, peering at the empty courtyard ahead. Earth strewn with fir needles gave way to the bare sod of a training ground. The castle loomed to our left, its defensive ramparts to our right. A narrow stairway led up the outer wall towards the battlements, where two human figures, rendered anonymous by distance, patrolled the fortifications.

Guards. But they were moving away from us, and looking over the castle walls—not inwards, in our direction. All we had to worry about for now was the gate.

I swallowed my fear. “Let’s go,” I urged Aric in a whisper. “Before anyone else comes.”

He scanned the courtyard once more, nostrils flaring wide. Then he moved, so suddenly I grabbed for the pommel. We were out in the open before I had fully recovered my balance, the distance between us and the wall closing fast. Hostile eyes— imagined, please let them be imagined —prickled my back. And then we were at the wall. The gate was unguarded, as Marya had promised.

I half slid, half fell from Aric’s back. My hands shook, clumsy with haste, as I struggled to slide the bolt free. Rust coated the iron; this gate must be rarely used. The bolt grated, resisting. For one terrifying moment, it stuck.

And then it slid free, with a groan of metal that was surely as loud as an avalanche. I pushed the gate open, Aric surged through, and I followed. We stood in the red light of a day preparing to depart. We had made it out of the castle.

Aric was waiting, his tail flicking in discomfort at a bold fly circling his hindquarters. I shoved the gate closed, managed to get my foot into the stirrup, and heaved myself inelegantly onto his back. Thank the ocean there was no one to see. I settled myself in the saddle, flushed and disheveled from the effort. At least I wasn’t wearing nightclothes this time.

I tightened my legs around Aric’s sides, instinctively, as if he were an ordinary horse and not the man I’d married.

“Let’s ride,” I said, and this time, he didn’t argue. He broke into a trot, then a canter, and soon we were flying along the road, away from the gloaming city.

Towards Damaria. Towards home. Towards, Virtues guide me, a way to set this right.