Page 52

Chapter 52

Kat

“You’re sure it isn’t too dangerous?” whispers Mary as I dress in my usual Ivy Mask uniform.

“Rahk is gone, and Edvear said he’s with Lord Oliver until late. I couldn’t have asked for better fortune.” I finish stuffing the last things I need into my satchel. I smear the bottom of my boots with ollea . Only a few drops remain. Not enough for the rest of this raid and the Nothril raid, but I’m cooking up an alternative. “Since I don’t know when he’ll be back, you’ll need to be ready to help me change as quickly as possible.”

She balances the small basket on her hip with everything we will need to transform me back into Lady Katherine, including night clothes, perfumed lotion to hide any scent of Faerieland, and a hidden wound kit in case things go wrong again. She tries not to let her worry show on her face. “I’ll be in the kitchen waiting.”

I kiss her on the cheek before scrambling out of the window. My leg is fully healed by now except for a white, puckered scar. Rahk’s salve was truly magic. Now more than ever, I’m grateful to not bear the weight of an injury.

And this time, I have Bartholomew too.

I thought long and hard about whether I should risk taking such an identifying animal. In the end, I decide that the speed she will lend me is worth it. I sneak into the stable while Clifford is eating dinner and hurry to Bartholomew’s stall. She nickers happily and flicks her tail when she sees me.

“You ready for an adventure, pretty girl?” I whisper to her. She nibbles my cloak in reply as I apply ollea to each of her shoes.

Once we’re riding together through the fields out to Caphryl Wood, I let myself acknowledge the fears I refused to in front of Mary. There is no chance that Rahk is with Oliver. He is out trying to catch me again—I can feel it in my gut.

“I cannot let him catch me until after the Nothril raid,” I tell myself under my breath, the pounding of Bartholomew’s hooves beneath me both a comfort and a thrill. Whatever I do, even if that means I get there and am forced to turn around and come right back, I cannot let Rahk catch me. Not tonight.

I arrive at the crest of the hill before the edge of the Wood. I dismount and give Bartholomew a chance to recover as I pull my hood low and peer over the edge of the rise.

Torches illuminate the darkness below me. People have settled back into the valley and work tirelessly below, hoeing the ground, planting seeds, harvesting giant crops. Borders made of rope have been erected, and even as I watch, a fight breaks out over one of those borders. I have to get past them somehow. And there’s no way to access my cart.

A growling roar rips my attention to one side.

“You cannot be serious,” I groan.

Ymer is still here. Still swinging his club at the people who come too close to him. He was supposed to be gone! The queen was supposed to tell him to leave!

“Good thing I prepared for this,” I mutter.

I open my satchel and pull out the triple-wrapped chicken carcass. I mount Bartholomew and urge her closer toward the troll. Most people steer clear of Ymer, so when I go straight to him, we avoid those who might get a closer look at me.

“Small elf?” Ymer calls to me. A different note is in his tone this time. A note that, if I did not know better, I would think was interest .

“I brought you a present, Ymer the Indefatigable!” I toss the chicken to him.

He grabs it eagerly, using his fingernails to slice through the kerchiefs. “Ymer is very hungry,” he says by way of thanks. Did his hand shake as he lifted one delicate rib to his giant mouth? “Small elf nice to Ymer.”

Suddenly, I feel terrible for this troll. He really is hungry, and everyone is making him the enemy. He is just as much a victim of the Wood’s shifting borders as many of us.

Though he could choose to leave if he wasn’t so stubborn.

My concern evaporates. Mostly . I urge Bartholomew into a gallop and Ymer waves happily as we go and calls, “Ymer will repay!”

I keep my hood low as I find the right Path. As I step one foot onto it, my vision flickers with vibrant skies and glowing stars. That’s the one . Together, Bartholomew and I plunge onward.

The Star City is more beautiful than I could have imagined. The sky is a deep violet, hung with large, low stars and a sliver of a crescent moon. The city is vast, full of slender spires of intricate architecture that seem so tall they reach the moon. I stand at the edge of Caphryl Wood, looking down into the city. There are paved roads lined with beautiful glowing lights. It makes the entire city look like a valley full of stars.

But I have no time to gawk at the beauty. I have three targets to find.

After tying Bartholomew, giving her a few carrots, and applying one last dose to her hooves in case we must make a fast escape, I follow the scrawled instructions Tailor gave me the last time I was at Nothril, diving into the depths of the city on foot. I move fast and avoid the many lights.

At last, I reach the palace. Tailor’s directions take me to a servant’s entrance. The meeting place is a boiler room, usually checked only once an hour at this time of day. Smoke and heat blast me the second I open the door. The only light comes from the glow of coals and flames licking fresh wood in the furnace.

No one is here.

I yank the scrap of paper out of my pocket, straining my eyes to read it again, retracing my steps in my head. No, I’m in the right place. So why is no one here? Did Tailor not reach them? Do I need to go find them?

I wait a few more minutes, bouncing on the balls of my feet, sweat pouring down my face and back. I’m going to have to use extra ollea to combat the strength of my own scent now.

It is supposed to be a young boy and girl, and an adult woman. Even when I poke my head back into the hallway, there is not even a single approaching footstep.

Rahk is always fast on my trail. I cannot stay here much longer.

The door creaks open. I whirl.

A woman, with drooping almond eyes and a mane of thick, curly black hair, slips inside. She startles slightly at the sight of me with my mask and cloak.

“There you are!” I whisper. “Where are the others? A boy and a girl?”

“Jack and Mavis?” the woman asks. “I have not seen them all day.”

She trembles in the darkness, her arms wrapped around her middle. She glances at the door every two or three seconds.

“Have you seen the Tailor?” I hiss. “Where is he?”

She shivers. “I saw him a few hours ago. He said everything was proceeding as planned.”

I curse inwardly and pace two more lengths of the small, scalding room. Then I turn to the woman once more. “I need you to get to the edge of the city. I don’t want anything happening to you if we are delayed. Can you see Paths in the Wood?”

Firelight catches on unshed tears. She shakes her head.

I purse my lips. She is going to fall to pieces if I show too much of my own anxiety. “That is fine,” I say as calmly as I can. “If you can just get to the edge of the city, to the road that leads into the Wood, you will be safe. I will come get you as quickly as I can, and we will leave. Take this and smear it on the bottoms of your shoes.” I show her how, using my second to last drop. Then I hand the bottle to her.

She places the last drop of ollea on her shoes. I try not to panic that my source is gone. I try not to let the tightness in my chest cut off my air as I wonder how I am going to get the last two targets out while Rahk is invariably right behind me.

We part ways, her to leave the palace, me to dive deeper into it.

These servants’ hallways are well lit, to my dismay. I am just about to remove my mask and hood to give the illusion that I am not, in fact, breaking into a fae palace, when a shadow rounds the corner ahead of me. I glance around frantically for a place to hide. Nothing.

A small boy rounds the corner, only around nine years old. He must be the boy—Jack. His round little eyes go even rounder when he sees me. “Are you the Ivy Mask?”

“Yes!” I bend down to his level, and my heart could break that one so young would be a slave. Did he end up here because he was at Caphryl Wood’s edge when the border expanded? “What’s the matter? Are you Jack?”

He nods. A whimper escapes his lips. “My sister! I cannot get her out!”

I flex my jaw. “Take me to her at once.”