Page 6

Chapter

Six

F lora stood to attention next to Prince Cassius, ignoring the stares and mutters of the other guards as they packed up camp.

It was a skill she’d made into an art form. She felt much more relaxed now that she was no longer trying to hide her face and form. She would surely provide better protection for the prince without the distraction of trying to protect her identity as well. Not to mention that her mind was sharpened by the sheer relief of not wearing her bindings anymore. She’d never before worn them overnight, and she’d been in considerable pain by the time her belongings finally arrived and she was given freedom to change. She could only imagine how torturous it would have been if she’d tried to maintain her disguise all the way to Crandell.

All she had to contend with now was the sensation of the tether. It was honestly not unlike the restriction of bindings, although she felt it not with any of her physical senses.

“What’s the source of the confusion?” Prince Cassius was speaking to the delegation’s head guard, discussing the route they were to take. “Why would we take anything but the most direct route to Crandell?”

“Because doing so now requires us to spend two nights in Torrens, Your Highness,” the head guard replied. “Our initial intention was to spend last night in Siqual, and travel quickly enough through Torrens to spend only one night within its borders. His Majesty’s instructions were to limit our time in this kingdom as much as possible. If we take a slightly longer route through Dernan, it would avoid a second night in Torrens.”

Alarm shot through Flora at this mention of the small duchy-turned-kingdom that occupied a space between Siqual and Carrack on the Peninsula’s eastern coast. She’d never imagined their journey might take them through Dernan—the kingdom was famously reclusive and didn’t allow people to move as freely in and out of it as the other kingdoms did.

She was surprised when the prince glanced curiously at her as he addressed the head guard again. He must have caught her sudden stiffening.

“Go through Dernan?” Prince Cassius said. “Would they even allow us passage?”

“They would not deny a prince of Carrack, surely, Your Highness,” said the head guard. “If we pass through their territory, we can enter Carrack much sooner, and skirt the forest via the northern road. We wouldn’t lose much time, and considerably more of our journey would be within our own borders.”

“Perhaps,” said the prince, sounding unconvinced. “Or perhaps our group would be invited to travel to Dernan’s capital, and politeness would require us to accept.”

This time he definitely caught Flora’s reaction. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“We’re still close to Siqual, so you’re likely more familiar with this region than we are, Flora. Do you have an opinion?”

“It’s not my place, Your Highness,” Flora said quickly, observing that the head guard was none too pleased at her inclusion.

“On the contrary, it’s precisely your place to answer a question directed at you,” said Prince Cassius with a touch of impatience.

“Well, then…” Flora hesitated. “It seems unlikely that a group of this size and importance is at any great risk on the public road. And I suspect the proposed route would lose more time than anticipated. The terrain is much flatter and more passable in this part of Torrens than in any part of Dernan.”

“Do you have experience of Dernan, then?” Prince Cassius asked.

“I’ve been there,” said Flora. “But not for some years. Before my time in Torrens.”

“I see.” The prince studied her so thoughtfully that she had to fight not to fidget under his scrutiny. “And you think we would not be as safe there?”

“Oh, no, Your Highness, I didn’t mean that,” she said. “I don’t have any reason to expect lawlessness in Dernan. I just meant that it will likely be a considerable inconvenience for no great benefit.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” said Prince Cassius, speaking now to the head guard. “My father’s fears seem unfounded. We have encountered no problems in Torrens. It’s in Siqual that we were caught up in an armed attack. We will stick to our original route.”

“Very good, Your Highness.”

The guard’s wooden reply convinced Flora that he still resented her interference, so she tried to make herself unobtrusive once again. She knew that while normal bodyguards might reasonably have a say in comparing the safety of various routes as it affected their charges, it wasn’t really part of her role. They were all only pretending she was Prince Cassius’s bodyguard. At best she was a minor addition to his already formidable squadron of personal guards.

Remembering why her skills had been wanted, she shifted her focus to the surrounding area as the prince and the head guard discussed the journey further. The camp was almost packed up, and they would soon be on the road. But there was no doubt their presence overnight would have attracted notice. If someone had wanted to do the prince any harm, they would have had plenty of opportunity to figure out where he would come in the morning.

Surreptitiously, Flora retrieved a band from her pocket and tied her hair back into a loose tail. Then, with a move she’d perfected with extensive practice, she started tilting her head back and forth. The movement of her head was minimal, but soon her hair was swinging steadily from side to side. Her sense of magic was well-developed, and she could easily detect the Dust stirred up by the small motion. And of course, since her hair was part of her own body, the magic generated by its motion flowed instantly into her reach. The process of taking hold of it was effortless.

It was only the tiniest stream of Dust, so it barely required any mental wrestling to shape it into an enchantment. The nature of the movement affected the power as well. A simple swish of hair was never going to provide fuel for a counterattack, not the way her sling might. But she didn’t need a counterattack. She just wanted information.

She sent the power out from her, able to sense the progress of the Dust as it dispersed across the clearing. She saw Lord Armand look up from where he was speaking to a trio of guards some distance away. His gaze passed curiously to her, apparently able to sense not only that she was manipulating Dust, but that it was a benign enchantment, no cause for concern.

She would still happily have pushed the overbearing nobleman into a pile of horse manure, but she did have to respect his magic craft. Not only had his tethering enchantment been sophisticated and sturdy, but he’d fueled it from the downpour of rain. Getting access to such a volume of magic from individual rain drops was advanced work.

Other than Lord Armand’s interest, Flora’s enchantment revealed nothing in particular. No other magic was currently at work, and there was no one the magic classified as hiding. When a guard led horses over shortly afterward, she waited at attention until the prince was mounted.

“Assist Flora to mount, please.” The prince’s simple command surprised Flora. Did he think she hadn’t yet mounted because she wasn’t capable of doing so without assistance? It wasn’t as though she was riding side-saddle.

“No need,” she assured the approaching guard, waving him off.

If the prince was inclined to consider her helpless, he’d do well to think again. Perhaps she was petty to make a show, but she wasn’t afraid to be petty.

She swung her hair once more, simultaneously whipping out a metal hoop the size of a saucer and slipping it over her hand. She rotated her arm swiftly, and in a matter of seconds, the hoop was swirling so quickly that it became a blur. Between the motion of her own body—mainly her hair—and the movement of the hoop, enough Dust was stirred up to allow for an enhancing enchantment.

Flora placed her other hand on the pommel of her horse’s saddle, then channeled all the power at her disposal into that arm. As she pulled herself up, she felt the brief surge of unnatural strength that allowed her to pull herself straight off the ground and onto the horse with just one slight hand.

The act of doing so caused her repetitive motions to cease, and the burst of strength was short-lived. But it was enough. Flora settled herself on the saddle, arranging the short skirt of her over-tunic around her legs.

“Impressive.”

She looked up to see Prince Cassius watching her in fascination. “That was quite a maneuver.”

She smiled mechanically, not seeking or needing the praise. The whole thing had been swift. To an outside observer, she would have appeared to swing her arm as if commencing a dance, then leap lightly up onto a full-sized horse’s back, using only one hand for light support. She could imagine it might seem impressive. But to someone who understood the mechanics of how she’d used the Dust, it was actually a very simple trick.

She could have mounted the horse without magic, of course, and perhaps it had been foolish to use magic unnecessarily. But it was worth it. She’d proved her point to the prince—if it had been necessary—but she’d acted as much for her own benefit. There was something powerful about occasionally experiencing the physical strength that reminded her that, thanks to her magical capabilities, she was no longer as vulnerable as she looked.

The day of riding wore away at Flora’s resilience, but she did her best to keep her senses sharp. She sent out regular scouting enchantments to check for danger or active magic ahead. She didn’t even have to create her own movement to do it. Every clop of her horse’s hooves stirred up a neat little deposit of Dust, and once she felt confident of the animal’s goodwill toward her it was simple enough to harness that motion.

When the group stopped for the night, Flora was relieved beyond words to find that she’d been given her own room. She knew she didn’t deserve the consideration—had she been a male guard, she certainly wouldn’t have received it—but she didn’t protest, so weary and desperate for privacy was she. She learned that the prince had sent a messenger ahead, determined to stop only at an inn that could provide adjoining rooms for the pair of them. No doubt he would be as relieved by the space as she was.

She slept soundly and woke ready to tackle another full day of riding. Apparently they were four hours from the border with Carrack. The first two of those hours passed smoothly. She rode just behind the prince, trying to be unobtrusive as a bodyguard should. It was strange how often she had to remind herself not to strike up a conversation with Prince Cassius, the way she might with one of the Siqualian royals, whom she knew well. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt more comfortable with him than she had any right to. Where was the formidable prince rumor had called proud and haughty? She could see his pride—his manner with his underlings bordered on haughty—but she nonetheless didn’t find him at all intimidating. Perhaps it was because he was never haughty in his manner with her, even though he had every reason to be.

It seemed that the comfort was mutual. More than once, Flora drew back a little within the group to discourage the prince from continuing a conversation he’d attempted to begin with her. It seemed that if she wanted to maintain appropriate distance, she’d have to do so on her own.

Her resolve was thwarted around mid-morning, when the road narrowed in order to pass through a medium-sized copse. She found herself riding right alongside the prince, who was quick to capitalize on the opportunity.

“Can I ask you a question?” His eyes were too piercing for her peace-of-mind.

“You need hardly ask permission, Your Highness.”

He ignored her words. “Was it my imagination that you seemed very reluctant earlier about the idea of going through Dernan?”

Flora hid a wince. How—and why—was he so attuned to her?

“I didn’t relish the idea, Your Highness,” she acknowledged.

He studied her. “Why not? Is there something I need to know about our neighbors? It’s no secret that the Peninsula is not as stable as it once was. If something is so amiss in Dernan that you fear entering its borders, I’d like to know about it.”

Flora felt herself relax. Of course he was focused on matters of state rather than her personal background.

“Oh no, nothing of that nature,” she assured him. “I’m sure you know Dernan’s reputation for reclusion as well as I do, but I don’t have any reason to suspect them of malice.” She shrugged. “At least, I didn’t when I was last there, although as I said that was some years ago.”

Prince Cassius considered her words for a moment. “None of which answers my earlier question of why you were reluctant to go through there.”

Ah. He was right .

“Well…” Flora hesitated over her answer. It was difficult to know how honest to be. “I went to Dernan before I knew Princess Miriam, and…let’s just say her friendship has been a stabilizing force in my life. When I was in Dernan, I behaved in such a way that I wouldn’t necessarily expect goodwill if I were to return.”

Prince Cassius raised an eyebrow, one corner of his lips quirking up along with it. It was an inconveniently appealing expression.

“How intriguing. Do you mean to tell me that I have a wanted criminal for a bodyguard?”

Flora laughed.

“I committed no crimes, Your Highness. I just didn’t endear myself.”

“An unconvincing answer,” he told her. “You must have done something. Did you perhaps steal a griffin?”

“Steal one?” Flora laughed again. “How would I achieve that when they’re supposed to be so rare humans never even see them?”

The prince raised an eyebrow. “So you think they’re real, then?”

She stared at him. “Of course they’re real! Do you really doubt it?”

He shrugged. “A lot of people in Carrack think they’re a myth. Perhaps a self-aggrandizing tale spun by the Dernan crown to increase its own importance in the Peninsula. Having a full monopoly on chameleon steel has been incredibly valuable for them. Maybe they thought that owning—so to speak—a magical species might increase their status even further.”

Flora only just stopped herself from making a scoffing noise, remembering in time that she was speaking with a foreign prince. She wasn’t sure what was more comical— the suggestion that the excess of chameleon steel was some formidable asset to Dernan, or the idea that griffins were made up by the Dernan crown for prestige.

“That’s far-fetched,” she told him frankly. “I don’t see how it would benefit them, either, given that humans never even interact with griffins.”

“Never?” Prince Cassius raised an eyebrow, the tug on his lips suggesting he was enjoying her indignation. “The tales say that if humans are intrepid enough to brave their cliffs, griffins may choose to befriend them, and if they do, the bond is lifelong and potent.”

“I’ve heard the same tales.” It was Flora’s turn to smile. “Although as to braving the cliffs, I doubt that’s a rare feat anymore. Since the chameleon steel comes from those cliffs, they’re probably crawling with humans.”

Prince Cassius nodded. “I suppose that’s true.” He smiled wryly. “Sometimes we in Carrack wonder if the chameleon steel is as mythical as we think the griffins. We’ve yet to see any of it. My father has been trying for years to negotiate with the Dernan crown to supply some. Who wouldn’t want chainmail that can change to camouflage the wearer depending on his environment? For Carrack it would be especially valuable, given one of our borders is lined by forest and another by snow-capped mountains.”

“Best of luck to him,” Flora said cheerfully. “Whether or not griffins are mythical, the legendary control of the Dernan crown isn’t. They keep a very tight hold on their one genuinely valuable resource.”

And for very good reason, not that she intended to tell the prince what she knew of that.

“Aha!” The prince was grinning now. “That’s what you did. You stole chameleon steel. Or perhaps you stole the secret of its refinement.”

Again, Flora couldn’t help laughing. “I certainly didn’t. I’ve already told you I’m no criminal. My bad experience in Dernan is of no import, and I wouldn’t wish it to affect your plans. With any luck they’ve forgotten all about me—it would be poor chance if the random border guards recognized me. But I truly meant what I said about the other reasons not to go through Dernan.”

He nodded. “And I maintain that it was unnecessary. But that doesn’t stop me from being curious about your background. I realize I know very little about you. You must have an unusual tale to have gone from a prestigious school for titled girls to a role with the royal guard.”

Flora pulled out her arm hoop again, stalling for time as she slipped it over her wrist. The movement of spinning it was second nature, and she grabbed hold of the ensuing magic without thinking about it.

“If you mean to imply that my parents are titled, the school wasn’t just for titled girls. Some were daughters of wealthy merchants and the like.”

She sent out a scouting enchantment as she spoke.

“Are you the daughter of a wealthy merchant?” the prince pressed.

She shook her head, her focus split between the enchantment and the conversation. “No, my situation was unusual. I had no funds to cover my education. But I was determined—I was convinced I had significant magical potential, although I’d never had opportunity to explore it. I persuaded the mistress to give me a domestic role at the school, and then took every opportunity to show my magical aptitude. Fortunately for me, she was impressed enough to offer me a place alongside the paying students. ”

“I’m impressed as well,” Prince Cassius commented. “You were obviously resourceful and persistent from a young age.”

Flora shrugged. “It did take persistence. It took two years of menial work to get there. That’s why I graduated with Princess Miriam but am older than her.”

“And what was your situation before you approached the school?” Prince Cassius asked.

Flora didn’t answer. Her scouting enchantment was communicating back to her, and it now had her full attention.

“There’s someone hidden in the trees ahead,” she said sharply, raising an arm to point. “More than one someone—maybe three?”

“How do you know?” Prince Cassius asked.

“I sent out a scouting enchantment,” she told him. “They might be there for an innocuous reason, but I’m suspicious. They seem high up, as if they’re in a tree.”

She was gratified when the prince asked no more questions, instead barking an order to the closest guard. In moments, half a dozen guards had peeled off to check the indicated area, while the rest of them increased their pace.

“I’ll go into the trees with—” Flora cut herself off with a noise of irritation. “No, I can’t, can I? That would drag you into the potential danger as well.”

“Stay with the group.” The prince sounded stern, and she couldn’t blame him. He was definitely safest to stay with the other guards.

Flora moved to put herself between the prince and the trees, her eyes fixed on the point her magic had identified. A moment later, a shout went up, and the guards who remained with the prince instantly moved to tighten the protective formation around him .

Flora, riding by his side, felt a sickening sensation as movement from the trees stirred a particular type of magic—a type too soiled to be used. She caught a flash of tan leather as a body fell to the ground. Two guards leaped toward it as if to incapacitate the man. Could they not tell that he was dead? She’d sensed it at once, from the nature of the magic generated by his body’s movement.

A sick feeling rose up in her as the image of the plummeting man from the day before filled her mind. She forced her mind back to the present, feeling cowardly for being glad that this time, some other guard had felled the attacker.

Because attackers they were. If there’d been any doubt, it was dispelled a moment later. It had all happened so rapidly, the group was still thundering past the spot where the guards were focused on something else in the trees. They’d almost cleared the area when Flora heard a whizzing sound followed by a grunt from Prince Cassius.

Her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening as she simultaneously saw an arrow graze Prince Cassius’s shoulder and felt red-hot pain blaze into existence on her own shoulder. She clamped her lips shut, the pain intense but the shock helping her to keep it in.

“The prince has been hit!” A guard riding on Prince Cassius’s other side shouted the words, and the group sped even faster as he leaned forward to try to take the reins of the prince’s horse.

“I’m all right,” Cassius said curtly. “I don’t need assistance.” He pulled the horse away, resisting the guard’s efforts to take over its guidance.

Flora bit back the cry of pain threatening to erupt as the galloping pace jarred her shoulder over and over again. She gripped the reins tightly, determined not to pass out. She sensed the movement of magic from within the group and realized with relief that Lord Armand was doing what she should have thought of, and using magic to provide protection for the party. Nothing was required of her but to hold on until they were clear of the area, then they would surely stop to regroup.

They did so within a couple of minutes, the head guard approaching the prince as soon as they came clear of the copse, Lord Armand hot on his heels.

“Your Highness! Your shoulder!” The nobleman gaped at the prince’s tattered tunic and the blood seeping from his wound.

“I’m fine,” the prince said, with an irritable tone that hinted at the pain he was trying to deny. “The arrow grazed me, nothing more. Is the danger past?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The head guard watched impatiently as one of his men approached on foot, clutching what looked like a medical bag. “See to the prince quickly!”

“Yes, sir.” The guard bowed swiftly to the prince. “If you would dismount, Your Highness…”

Prince Cassius did so, moving carefully. “Bind it if you must, but there’s no call for all this fuss. Give me the report, man.” The last words were directed, tersely, to the head guard.

Flora swayed in the saddle, clutching the pommel with the hand of her uninjured arm, and holding in the nausea that threatened by laying her injured one over her stomach. She was eager to hear the report as well, but it was hard to focus on anything given how the pain was swelling.

“There were two archers in the trees, Your Highness,” the head guard said. “The first was neutralized immediately, the second got an arrow off as the guards were trying to take him alive for interrogation. Unfortunately it was necessary to eliminate him as well, in order to prevent further attack.”

“What about the third?” Flora’s voice came out faintly, and if the head guard heard, he gave no sign of it.

Prince Cassius heard, though. He glanced at her, frowning as he took in her posture.

“Yes, you thought there were three, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “I’m fairly certain.”

“How would she know?” the head guard asked impatiently, still not looking at Flora.

“ She is the only reason we weren’t taken completely unaware by the attackers,” Prince Cassius said crisply. “Her scouting enchantment identified the attackers’ presence, something your human scouts completely failed to do.”

“Her magic craft is exceptional,” Lord Armand cut in, unexpectedly coming to Flora’s defense. “If she sensed three, there were three.”

The head guard cursed. “One must have escaped before my men reached them, Your Highness. I’ll send men after—”

“Do as you think best,” Prince Cassius said coldly. “But I ride for the border.”

The head guard looked chastened, and he was quick to marshal his men to their various tasks. Flora didn’t envy him as Prince Cassius turned pointedly away from him with a severe expression, his silence intimidating while the medic guard finished up his binding.

Princes and their pride.

Flora tried to remain silent. She didn’t want her injury to delay the prince further, especially with one of the attackers unaccounted for. They were still too exposed. But she was struggling, and she found herself slipping sideways. She managed to right herself at the last moment, but the gesture wrenched her shoulder enough that she couldn’t hold in a brief cry.

Prince Cassius’s eyes flew to her, searching her more thoroughly this time.

“That should be safe to ride with, Your Highness,” the medic guard said. “You were right, it was only a shallow wound.”

The prince didn’t answer. He was staring, horrified, at Flora instead.

“Flora! You’re hurt!”

She shook her head, not trying to deny the injury so much as the attention.

“It can wait until we’ve reached a safer location.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Prince Cassius said sharply.

He strode toward her horse, and it was a good thing he did. As a fresh wave of pain hit Flora, she felt herself slipping again. Still trying not to distract focus from the injured prince, she raised her good hand to gesture him off, forgetting that the task of holding the pommel was too much for the hand attached to her injured shoulder. Before her mind—made fuzzy by the throbbing pain—could process what was happening, she toppled sideways off her mount.

Closing the final gap with a surge, Prince Cassius caught her.