Of Silver and Beasts (9 page)

“Yes . . .”

“And if you didn’t?” He raises his eyebrows. “Do you feel you could defeat an enemy with an army of women only?”

“That’s a ridiculous question. It has no merit for what we’re discussing.”

“Doesn’t it?”

I huff. “You’re only trying to upset me—unhinge me for your own enjoyment.” I scowl. “I won’t give in to your stupidity.”

He smiles, his full lips crooking into a knowing grin. He twists the silver ring—that I now notice holds a red and silver crest—around his finger. “Horses?”

“What?”

“Let’s go see the court horses.” He turns and starts toward the palace. “I assume you at least stable your horses equally. Or are only female horses thought of as good enough for the court?”

Walking up beside him, I smile. “Oh no, Your Highness. They’re all stallions.” I slant my eyes his way. “We think males are only good for mounting.”

My fingers tap at the illuminated buttons of the fan’s control panel, adjusting settings so the horses aren’t suffering in this heat. Then I lean against a wooden beam and wait as the prince takes his time changing into his nondescript clothing in a stall.

I check my transmitter to make sure I haven’t missed an important message. Digging the toe of my boot into the hay, I scan through my communications. Nothing since Lilly last contacted me. I assume the Nactue are with the empress, learning vital information about the Otherworlders’ situation while I’m stuck here tending to a pampered prince. I should be with them now. I should be made aware of what orders are being given, if the empress is in any danger, what is happening at our borders.

I should not be
here
.

Aggravated, I stalk toward the stall. “Are you quite done yet, Your Highness?”

He grunts. “Almost.” Then he exits wrapped in the cream-colored cloak with the matching uniform beneath. If it weren’t for his smooth, nearly flawless skin and the way he holds himself upright, as if he knows of his own importance, he could almost pass for a commoner.

“Well,” I say, motioning toward the horses in the stalls. “You may have your pick of any one of them.”

“I give you some credit. At least you don’t castrate them.” He smirks.

My lips parts with a comeback on the tip of my tongue, but the prince closes the gap between us with three quick strides. My words flee my head.

His blue eyes linger on my face a moment, then scan my body, stopping at my waist. My breath hitches. “Any?” he asks, as his hand reaches up. I flinch away and he halts. Then with a deft move, his fingers sweep a stray hair from my brow.

I squint, but my confused expression doesn’t prevent the pads of his fingertips from trailing the side of my face, then my shoulder, and on to my arm. When he reaches my midsection, I take a hesitant step back but he grasps my waist, keeping me close.

“You said any . . .” His breath fans my face, and the cool minty scent of it mixes with the warmth, sending a shiver down my back.

I swallow hard. “That is not part of your accommodations, prince,” I say, angry that my voice quivers.

His lips quirk into slanted smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Your customs are different where you’re from.” I force my voice and posture strong. “It’s forgotten.”

“No,” he says, and latches on to my waist firmly with both hands. “I’m truly, very sorry.” Then as quick as the mercury racing in my blood, he snatches my sword from my belt and cracks the pommel over my head.

Sonofabitch
—

Blackness covers my vision, and I’m lost.

I force my eyes open. Blinding pain shoots through my skull. Grasping the sore spot, I finger the swollen lump, and slowly rise. I cry out as pressure surges my forehead.

“Bastard.”

Getting to my feet, I ignore the throbbing pain in my head and scan the stable. The black horse that was nearest me has been taken.

Idiot.
I’m
an idiot.

I knew what he was planning and I played right into his scam. I should’ve tied him up in his room, but I didn’t think he could pull it off—that he could get past me. I even helped him pick out his disguise!

Clasping my transmitter, I pause, my fingers clutching the hard metal. The responsible and
right
thing to do would be to report him. But damn. I’d risk everything. My position, my empress’s respect, my salary—and then my mother’s means of support and the medicines she needs.

Instead, I glance at the time. It’s only been five minutes. He couldn’t have gotten farther then past the gatehouse. Maybe he’s just now entering downtown. I know which way he’ll try to leave Cavan, and I know my city better than him.

The white horse in the stall next to me nickers as I slam the latch down. I grab the bridle from the wooden post and force the mouthpiece into her jaws. “It’s okay, girl,” I say. “We’re going to catch that spoiled prince.” I sling the leather straps over her back, then grab her mane and bound up, mounting her without a saddle. I don’t have time.

After confirming that my dagger is still in my chest harness, I press my heels into her sides. She stomps her hooves and trots out of the stall.

The palace walls circle the whole court. There’s no other way out besides the gatehouse, so I steer my horse toward it, not slowing as I pass Claudia.

Speeders and Cury-crafts buzz past me as we trot along the sidewalk. I’m breaking a lot of rules riding out in the open, but the emblem on my uniform stops authorities from questioning me. There’s nothing to stop them from attacking the prince, though. Not dressed as he is now. I veer off the main road toward the barren desert. He’s probably taken the quickest route out of the city, which is the east border. The border closest to Perinya.

Kicking my heels, I command the horse to gallop over the open flat. Before me is divots in the dirt, and I know this is his trail. “Let’s go!”

A cloud of dust stretches across the horizon. The prince is ahead of it.

I duck, sinking low, and place my head beside the horse’s to block the dust from my eyes. Her hooves thunder over the plain and I grip the straps tighter as she bounds on.

The prince cranes his head and gets a good look at me coming up on him. “That’s right,” I mutter. “I’ve got you.”

As we ride up next to him, he grabs my sword from his belt and extends it.

“What are you doing?” I shout. “You’re going to kill yourself if you fall.”
Why did I warn him?
Let him fall. Then he’ll stop being a pain in my ass and I can do my duty.

Lowering the sword, he hesitates before sticking it back in his belt. “Go back!” His eyes spear me.

“No—” Guiding my horse closer to his, I reach for the reins and scoop air. Damnit. I try again, and this time I snag the leather between my fingers.

He steers his horse into mine, knocking into us, but I hold on to the reins. “You’re going to kill us both—and how can you be so cruel to a horse?” I pull the strap taut. At first the horse nearly careens into us again, but then slows to a stop. The horse is probably just confused, and has simply decided to stop to get away from the crazed humans.

The prince jumps off, landing sloppily on his feet and nearly falling on his ass. He quickly rights himself and draws my sword.

Releasing my own reins, I dismount and stalk toward him. “You have no thoughts for anyone or anything other than yourself.” I wipe the dust from my mouth with the back of my hand, then unsheathe my dagger. “I’ll enjoy teaching you some respect.”

“You don’t understand,” he says, and spits the sand from his own mouth. “I can’t be here. I have to get back to my people. I refuse to be looked after as if I’m some child.” He takes a step toward me, advancing. “How will I ever rule them if they think of me as a coward?”

I scoff. “Again, you’re only thinking of yourself.” I sidestep him, slowly circling, wishing I had a sword.

“I’m thinking of my duty to rule my kingdom!” He lunges and swipes the air, missing me by a full foot. He keeps the blade extended and I move in, capturing his hand and turning into his unguarded stance.

“You should think harder if you actually want to live to see the day you rule.” I kick his legs from under him and follow him to the ground where I press my dagger to his neck.

His gaze latches on to mine, and he swallows, his Adam’s apple working. He truly believes I’m going to end his life. I give him credit; there’s no fear in his eyes—no regret. He must have lived a full and pampered life despite his age.

Still, I’m disgusted with the weak fight he’s barely put up. I remove my blade from his throat. But his eyes don’t convey relief as they linger on my face, wide and curious, and I’m suddenly wary of the mercury.

“Get up.” I turn my face away and climb to my feet, dust off the terrain from my uniform, and sheath my dagger. I take in calming breaths, count to three, then say, “Grab the horse. Let’s get back before the empress has cause to be alarmed.”

The prince doesn’t move. He’s still lying in the dirt, his eyes trained hard on me. “I was taken off guard. And I don’t usually fight girls.”

“The knot on my head states otherwise, Your Highness.”

“And besides,” he continues, ignoring my sarcasm and glare. “I knew you wouldn’t harm me.”

I laugh. “Yeah?” I eye his lower half, assuring he follows my gaze. “Tell that to your soiled pants.”

After very apparently checking my false claim, he scrambles to his feet. Dust billows off his garments as he pats himself down. “I’m getting my horse.”

Deciding to do the same, I head toward the white horse, but stop when my transmitter crackles. I pull it from its holder in my chest harness and hold it flat in my palm, waiting for an image of the contacting person to appear.

Static hisses. Nothing displays. Then a choppy, broken transmission comes through. “Protector Kaliope . . .” It’s Carina’s voice. A blue dome flickers over the device, streaked and fractured. “Get the prince out of Cavan. Otherworlders have invaded. Do you hear? Get the prince far away from—”

“I’m here,” I say, panicked—pacing. “The empress? Is she safe? When did this happen?”

Static. “There’s no time. You’re to do as instructed. When there’s more to report, I’ll contac—” Her communication cuts off.

Silence.

Frozen, I stare at my transmitter, waiting for Carina to reappear.
Goddesses, protect her. Protect them all.

“Protector—?” the prince says, his voice low and strained.

I curl my fingers around the sleek silver and squeeze. Then I turn and stare directly into the prince’s narrowed blue eyes. “Mount up, Prince Caben. And you best know how to use that sword to some extent.” I look out over the barren landscape. “We’re going back.”