Page 19

CHAPTER 18

A pparently, I needn't have bothered being quiet, because she was so engrossed in whatever was happening inside the dining hall, she didn't even hear me.

I marched toward the shrub and flicked her—hard—on the back of the head.

“What the hell?” she gasped, wheeling around to face her attacker, eyes wide, fists raised.

“What the hell indeed,” I shot back, my voice low and furious.

She blinked up at me, her shocked face lit by the moon.

“Harm? Wh-what are you doing out here?”

I dragged her away from the window and deeper into the surrounding shrubs. “What am I doing out here? What are you doing here, Molly? Because I distinctly recall telling you to stay the fuck home. And you agreed!”

She glared at me defiantly. “I came to make sure you were okay. Sort of like you did for me at the Jubilee. And thank gods you did, am I right?”

She was right. But she was also wrong. I had walked in the lion’s den tonight because our lives depended on it, not because I was husband hunting or bored, with no one to talk to.

And I wasn’t about to give her an inch here. This move was foolish, bordering on suicidal. “Big difference. You were trespassing on hallowed ground and in imminent danger. I am an invited guest here?—”

“Exactly! Don’t you think that’s weird?” she asked with a shrug and a wild-eyed shake of her head. “Why were you invited? Was Bertrand invited?”

“Yes, he was.” I gnawed on the inside of my cheek and then flinched. “No. I don’t know, actually. He just said he wouldn’t be attending because he and Marjorie don’t like parties, and she’s in pain.”

“Convenient. How about any of the other servants? Not to be mean, Harm, but why you?”

She wasn’t wrong, and I had noticed that I was the only palace employee in the room that wasn’t either pouring wine or serving food.

I shook my head furiously and wagged a finger at her. “Don’t try to change the subject! You and I both know I had no choice but to come, whatever their reasoning for the invite was. You , on the other hand, need to get the hell out of here immediately so I finish doing what I came here to do.”

“I’m not leaving unless you come with me.” She lifted her chin high and stared me down.

She was literally going to be the death of us.

“I can’t do that. I have to figure out where the dungeons are first so I can come up with a plan to help the O’Donnellys and get us both the fuck out of here! I may not get another chance.”

She plopped herself down on the ground and crossed her legs. “Go ahead. I’ll wait until you get back. But in the event you don’t come back for some reason, I can promise you this. I won’t be sitting in that hut all alone wondering if someone hurt you…or worse.”

I tossed my head back and stared at the night sky, muttering curses under my breath.

“Just let me hide here, and I won’t come out. Pinky swear.” She lowered her voice and reached for my hand. “Something feels off, Harm. I can sense it in my bones.”

I wasn’t about to tell her I’d come to the same realization with what Duncan had told me, just a few minutes before, and the observation we’d both made about my invitation only solidified it.

“Fine. But don’t move a muscle. If someone sees you, just…I don’t know. Hold your side and moan alot. They’ll assume you came to find me because you had a belly ache.”

Despite finally agreeing with her to save time and my sanity, Moll and I weren’t done yet. Hard decisions had to be made, and if I was the one who had to make them, so be it.

“Appendicitis! I can fake that real good,” she said with a grin.

With that less than reassuring promise, I headed back to the double doors I’d left slightly ajar and slipped inside the room. Standing at the doors that led back into the hall, I took a quick glance to the right, then the left, then turned and walked away from the dining room.

This was insane. If I was caught, our death warrant was signed. But what choice did I have? I wouldn’t get a better chance to find the dungeons. At least for now, all was quiet and dark as the servants were busy hosting the whims of the guests.

The dungeons were down somewhere below, so I kept my eyes peeled for stairways.

I skulked down the corridor, hand trailing along the stone wall as if I could meld my body with it if I heard someone coming. I could barely hear myself think over the sound of my own heartbeat as I delved deeper into the bowels of the palace, further from the only exit I knew.

I passed an open door and paused to peer inside. A parlor decorated from floor to ceiling in dusty rose. Silk curtains worth more than my shack in The Hollow, a chaise lounge and sofa that looked like they'd never been sat on, and a massive credenza full of crystal figurines and candlesticks.

I continued on, stopping to survey each unlocked room I passed, hoping one would lead to a set of stairs. A men's lounge with a snooker table and bar that reeked of expensive cigar smoke. A room full of decorative wrapping paper and bows... an entire space dedicated to making something beautiful, only to see it thrown away. I counted twelve useless, open rooms in all, before I finally came upon a closed door at the end of the hall.

I jiggled the knob and it didn’t budge. I pressed my ear to the door and closed my eyes. Silence.

Could it possibly be the steps leading to the dungeon? Or maybe a private library that would offer up some information or a map of the palace that I could use?

Only one way to find out.

I tugged out my easy lockpick and gingerly twiddled with the door. Less than ten seconds later, the lock tumbled with a click, and I stepped inside.

By the light of the moon streaming through the many windows, I could make out dozens of canvases perched on easels scattered around the spacious room. Squat tubs of paint and brushes littered every available surface, and paint-speckled white cloths covered the floors.

An art room.

Disappointment left a bitter taste in my mouth as I hovered there for a long moment and then crept further inside. I was here now, and maybe there was a reason for the locked door that could give me even a little bit of help.

Most of the canvases were blank, and the ones that weren’t seemed haphazard. Wild slashes of paint and amorphous shapes that didn’t amount to anything. I could almost sense the artist’s frustration, and I couldn’t help but wonder who it was…

There was nothing for me here. I turned to leave and caught sight of what looked like a mound of blankets in the corner. Adrenaline had my pulse pounding as I headed that way on pure instinct, pulling me to get a better look at it.

With a shaking hand, I lifted one corner of the wool cover and peered down at the pile of canvases. As I leaned in and got a closer look at the one on top, my stomach flipped.

On the left side, a castle loomed…Alabaster palace. The skies above it were dark, and birds circled overhead. I knew in my heart they were vultures. The despair rolling off the image made my blood run cold.

Hovering just a short distance away, leaving gray skies toward blue, was a tiny hot air balloon. It wasn’t until I pulled back the curtain to let a little more moonlight in that I could see the image clearly.

Inside the basket stood a man wearing a wizard’s hat with yellow stars perched on his head. The woman at his side had her fist raised high in the air in triumph.

Scrawled across the bottom, in crimson letters?

There’s no place like home…

“What the fuck?” If there was no place like home, why were these two fleeing?

I quickly shuffled to the next painting in the pile and realized I’d definitely seen it before. Once when I was a child, and once on the exterior wall of the motherfucking amphitheater. The image of an emerald city with the monkeys flying around it. I nearly did a double-take when I realized the figure in the foreground was no longer smudged like the one on the amphitheater wall. It was very clearly a woman with a falcon on her shoulder…wearing a pair of knee-high crimson boots.

She was me .

Swaying in place, I traced the image to find the paint was dry. Duncan had only given me the boots today. Did that mean he was the painter? Had he been the one to draw all over the amphitheater walls as well? If so, why?

I was so engrossed in my reeling thoughts, trying to make sense of what I was looking at, I didn't hear the footsteps approaching until they were close.

Too close.

"Hello? Is someone in there?"

My skin broke out in icy chills as I froze in place. Every excuse I'd crafted to explain my presence vacated my brain en masse. I had nothing to explain my presence in a room I most certainly should not be in.

"Harmony? Is that you?"

Genevieve Salim. The palace maid that had nearly caught sight of me at the Jubilee.

I turned slowly, schooling my features as best I could.

"Oh hello, Gen!" I forced a shaky smile, but I could already feel the blood rushing to my head, no doubt giving me a guilty flush. If I had a full spell and passed out, there was zero question Genevieve would scream for help and then the whole palace would know I'd been snooping around.

So calm the fuck down, or you're as good as dead...Moll too.

Unsurprisingly, the stern mental reminder only made it worse.

The young maid cocked her head, eyes narrowed. "What are you doing in here?"

What, indeed?

"Funny story. I, um, was at the Feast, and spilled some wine on myself." I gestured to my jacket with an eye roll. "Clumsy fool. I've only been on the job a couple of days–as the palace falconer, would you believe? I wanted to impress, but I made a mess of things. Anyhow, I came to find a powder room to clean up and use the loo, and got a bit turned-around. This is a really big place. Palace. You know what I mean?"

Her eyes stayed just as narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. "So you walked the length of this hundred-yard corridor, found a locked door, and thought this was the powder room you were looking for?” She shot a pointed look at the blanket I was still holding. “Were you planning to shit on the blanket, or is that for wiping?"

Gen always was a quick wit. She was also pragmatic...

We stared at one another for a long, silent moment. Then, I dropped the blanket, and the farce.

"How much?"

To her credit, Gen didn't pretend to misunderstand.

"Fifty marks and I turn around and walk out. Never saw a thing."

I flinched and shook my head. "I don't have it." I'd spent most of what the O’Donnellys had given me on supplies for the lockpick.

She slipped her hands into her apron pockets and shrugged. "What do you have?"

"Twenty-three and change."

Gen shook her head. "Look, Harm. I've always liked you, but I'm not stupid. Now that I see you here sneaking around, plus the description of the woman who attacked King Heinrich...we both know it was either you on her behalf or Molly who did the deed." She held up a staying hand. "Don't bother denying it. He's a piece of shit who surely deserved what he got. But it's a big and dangerous secret for me to keep. If anyone ever found out I knew something and didn’t come forward, I’d be as bad off as you. But because we’re both from The Hollow, I’m willing to take the risk. It’s got to be worth it, though. Even if you don't care about your own, surely Moll's neck is worth more than twenty-three marks?"

She had me over a barrel, and she knew it.

"I truly don’t have it, but I can get you more, if you just give me a day."

She stared at me long and hard. "I live in The Smudge at Wren's Boarding House. You or your falcon bring me fifty marks by day after tomorrow, midnight, or this canary starts singing."

"I can do that,” I lied, knowing I’d either be dead or long gone by then.

"And I'll take the twenty-three now."

I was disgusted on one hand, but another part of me understood. It was hard to get ahead, being poor sucked. I fished the coins from my pocket and crossed the room to hand them over. Apparently, I didn't hide my disdain, because she let out a low snort.

"This isn't to buy some cashmere scarf, Harmony. I have my own problems. My gran is seventy. Her hands are so gnarled she can't sew anymore. I send what I can, but she skips supper most nights. Fifty marks will buy her supplies to start a little candle-making business instead." The corner of her thin mouth kicked up as she continued. "Besides, it's not like your conscience is exactly clean. There are three innocent women locked in the dungeon downstairs right now because of you and your previously redheaded friend. But that doesn't bother you one bit, I guess?"

Bile rose up to burn the back of my throat. "Th-three?"

She pursed her lips. "Aye. The stable girl and her mother, and then another they picked up in town this morning who fit the glass slipper and couldn’t come up with an alibi."

Fucking hell. But maybe Gen could help me, whether she realized it or not.

"And the dungeon...where is it located?"

Gen shot a glance over her shoulder and shifted restlessly from foot to foot. "The southwestern corner. You won't be able to get in from inside the palace. There are too many people roaming around, not to mention the guards."

Time to push for more, to make this worth it. "So how do I get in from the outside?"

“I’ve already said too much.” Gen blew out a sigh and started backing out of the room. "I would talk to the old falconer. He would know better than anyone from what I’ve heard. I've got to go, and you should too. The sorcerer comes here at night to paint when he gets restless, and if he finds you here..."

I blinked at her in surprise, the not-so-veiled threat barely registering. “Relyk? Is this his room alone, or do others use it?”

“Only him, why?”

I shook my head as I processed her answer. Relyk had known it was me in that drawing he’d worked so hard to erase. Meaning he didn’t want anyone else to know. Was that why he’d taken such an interest in me, and even offered me a job? To keep me close until he figured out what those pictures–and my presence in them–meant?

They were clearly important if he’d taken the time to recreate them privately.

“Stay if you want, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. These halls won’t stay empty much longer.”

With that, Gen wheeled around and was out the door in a flash. The sound of her footsteps disappeared down the hallway.

She was right, and there would be plenty of time for me to try and connect the dots later. I quickly straightened the pile of paintings and settled the blanket as it had been. Then, I headed out, making sure to lock the door behind me.

I snuck back outside the same way I'd come without further issue and was giddy with relief a few minutes later when I caught sight of Moll hunkered down, deep in the shrubbery.

"Harm!" she whispered, face shining as I stepped into view. "You're back."

"I am. But we've got to get out of here. I've definitely overstayed my welcome."

More than ever, I wished I could get around back and see if any new drawings could be found on the amphitheater walls, but I knew I’d pushed my luck as far as it could go without breaking.

We made our way across the palace grounds on silent feet, but as we came to a fork on the path, I halted Moll's progress with a hand on her forearm.

"We're not going home yet. We're going this way," I said, gesturing toward town.

"Why would we do that?"

"I have to go talk to the O’Donnellys."

"It's cold and dark out…and the curfew! What if we get caught? Can’t it wait until morning?"

"It can't. It’s a risk we’ll have to take." I tugged her along with me just as Fetch came soaring down to glide along beside us.

She frowned but shrugged. “Okay, whatever you say. How did it go in there? Did you figure out where the dungeon is?”

“Once we’re off palace grounds, I’ll tell you all about it.”

I needed a minute to decide what to share. In the end I opted for everything except the part about the three women locked away for crimes we’d committed. There was no point in burdening her with that knowledge when there was nothing she could do about it at the moment. I filled her in on the rest as we headed off the palace grounds toward town. I was a little worried as we passed through the wall, but there were no guards in sight, and we managed to slip past the scattered patrols that roamed the streets of The Smudge once we got inside.

Moll peppered me with whispered questions as we walked, ducking and dodging up and down alleys to avoid being seen.

“So, wait…there was a painting of you? In those boots? I don’t get it.”

“Me either.” But I had every intention of picking Duncan’s brain on the subject next time I saw him.

“And Gen said she thinks Bertrand can help you?”

“That’s what she said, although I’m not sure I’m comfortable testing that theory by asking him. My plan is to distract him or something so I can really paw through the desk at the mew myself. I’m sure he has the schematics of those falcon chutes—surely they sent messages to the dungeon, right? The man is a record-keeping savant.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking…what are we going to do when we get back home, anyway? Just because we manage to escape Alabaster doesn’t mean we’re in the clear. They’ll come looking for us eventually, won’t they?”

Damn, well, she’d come to the same conclusion I had—that even the Hollow would be a temporary stop.

“Undoubtedly. Which is why you and I won’t be staying long. We’re going to gather up everything of importance, sell what we can, and secure passage out of there.”

We’d go far enough where even Heinrich and his creepy sorcerer couldn’t find us. The nearest of the other two kingdoms was days away on horseback, and that was assuming you didn’t get picked off by a mantis. The faster way was by hot air balloon, but those came along with the cost of hiring someone to fly it plus at least three lookouts to safeguard any passengers from mantis attacks.

In short, balloons were for the wealthy, and we surely were not that.

I had to hope we'd be able to hitch a ride with one of the rare trading caravans that were bold enough to risk life and limb to brave the wilds.

“I’ve always wanted us to travel together,” Moll said, turning a smile on me that made me look away with a stab of guilt. “Maybe we can even go as far as Bryngarde…they say the animals there are unlike anything you’ve ever seen. They have these little blue monkeys that try to steal the buttons of your shirts, and tortoises that never die. They’re like a thousand years old! And there is so much food there, you can live off the fruit trees alone.”

“Sounds amazing.”

“If not there, we could try Valencourt. Supposedly, that was the last place The Speaker visited for supplies before disappearing altogether.”

The Speaker. About as mythical as a unicorn as far as I was concerned. The most powerful Whisper…gone for decades. I let her talk as I checked the next street to make sure we were clear.

“Oh yeah? Where did you hear that?””

“When I was spying behind that bush. I told you, I’m a good listener. I hear all kinds of stuff. The nobles were kissing up to Heinrich and Duncan, talking about how their father, King Rudolph, had driven The Speaker into hiding and vanquished the revolution for good.”

“Well, The Speaker isn’t real. Or, if he was, he’s long dead.”

Impoverished people loved a good hero or deity to cling to. I was guilty of it myself, wishing someone would come and save me and the people I cared about from The Hollow. It took me until my early twenties to realize no one was coming. We had to find a way to better our circumstances or die trying.

Moll opened her mouth to argue, and I held a finger to my lips. “Gotta be quiet now, we’re almost there.”

She stayed mum after that until we got to the door of The Hoof and Saddle. I rapped out the secret knock and waited, the slick of nausea in my belly spreading.

“Look, Moll…I need to tell you something, and you aren’t going to like it.”

The peep slot slid open and a familiar brown eye stared back at me.

“Come on, then, before the nightwatch catches ya,” he grumbled.

The door swung open a moment later, and the door guard waved us inside. “They’re in the back.”

The pub wasn’t nearly as empty as I’d seen it, and I made sure to keep my gaze on the floor as we shuffled our way through the thin crowd into the back room.

Paddy, Scotty, and Jacob were seated at a table, heads bent close as they talked in low tones. Andrew, the youngest, was nowhere to be seen.

“Gentlemen,” I called by way of greeting.

They all looked up and Paddy grinned even as Jacob scowled.

“What are you doing back so soon?”

“I need to alter our agreement…just a little,” I added as Jacob let out a snort.

“A deal is a deal. If you’re saying you can’t get Billy out now?—”

I held up my hands, stalling him. “Nope, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m in a really good spot with that, actually. I have a plan in place I think might actually work. All that’s left is the doing of it. But in order to get it done, I need you to get my friend back to The Hollow.”

“We already told you, do the job and we’ll get you’s both back.”

I shrugged. “Things have changed. She needs to go tonight. Now. Or we walk out, and Billy rots in the dungeon. If my falcon brings me word that Moll has gotten home safe by tomorrow afternoon, I’ll make my move. Billy will be on the outside of the palace walls by midnight. Those are my terms, take it or leave it.”

“What are you talking about?” Molly demanded, vow of silence forgotten as she perched her hands on her hips. “Not going to happen.”

“Don’t,” I croaked, my throat sticking on the words. “Please don’t argue. You’re leaving. I’m staying. That’s final.”

“No.” She shook her head furiously. “No way. Harm, you can’t do that. You?—”

“Nothing you say is going to change my mind.”

“I won’t leave you in this place alone, Harm. We’re peas and mash, remember? Ham and eggs…” Her voice was thready with panic as she lurched toward me, and I pulled away.

There was only one way to get her to go, and that was to make her go.

I lifted my chin and leveled her with a killing glare. “You’re a liability. You’ve been tottling around outside making friends with the local kiddos, sneaking around in the bushes, generally determined to make a mess of things. Is that the goal, Molly? Because it seems like it. Are you looking to get us both killed?”

She looked like I’d kicked her in the gut, and I hated myself for it.

“No…of course not. I just want to help you.”

“Exactly,” I snapped. “And every time you ‘help’ things just get worse. The best thing you can do is get the fuck out of the way, so I have even a slight chance of following after you in one piece. Can you do that for me?”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stared at me in silence, but I didn’t take a word of it back. Even the three O’Donnelly brothers present shot me judgy glares.

She must’ve sensed it too, because she turned and shot a beseeching look at Paddy.

“Can you help? Can you…take us both?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, love. We need her services something fierce, and she’s got the upper hand right now. You’ve got to do as she says and come with us.”

Molly backed away and folded her arms over her chest. “I won’t.”

His dimple flashed as he gave her a soft smile. “I like your spunk, but that’s not going to be how it goes. Either we take you the easy way, or we gag you and bag you…” He laid a hand on his hip to rest just above the hilt of his knife, and Molly paled. Then, she turned to me, her eyes like twin chips of blue diamond.

“You’re just a fucking asshole. A foolish, bossy asshole and you’re going to get yourself killed. But if that’s how you want it, fine.”

Anger and hurt snapped through me. I had a lot of flaws but what she was saying didn’t fit. “You looking in the mirror again, Moll?”

If I thought she was pale before, it was nothing to the drain of color—she was white as fresh snow in The Hollow. “You bitch.” She wheeled around and headed for the door without looking back.

All my anger fled, and only sorrow remained. I tapped Fetch gently on the beak, jerking my head in Molly’s direction.

“Go ahead with Moll.”

He chortled and then flew after her.

“I don’t have to tell you again, if you cross us?—”

I cut off Jacob before he was done. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Save your breath.” Because whatever he had planned to say couldn’t make me feel any worse than I did right now.

As the O'Donnellys followed Molly out into the main tavern, I hung back, trying not to cry. I’d done something to Molly that I hadn’t in our twenty-five years of friendship. I’d hurt her.

On purpose.

And only the gods knew whether I’d ever have a chance to make it up to her…