Red Hood's Revenge (10 page)

“I don’t think so.”

Talia relaxed slightly. “What about Mutal or Mahatal?”

Charlotte nodded eagerly. “Yes! I remember, near the end!”

Beatrice inhaled sharply. Even Snow appeared sober. They were both staring at Talia, whose face had gone pale.

“Mutal and Mahatal ela’Ghelib,” said Beatrice.

“Oh, Talia.” Danielle recognized the names now, though Talia had never spoken them in her presence. Mutal and Mahatal were the twin princes of Arathea. The sons of Sleeping Beauty.

“They’re the men who hired Roudette?” asked Charlotte.

“Not men, but boys.” Beatrice pushed herself to her feet. “Arathea has sent an assassin against our household.”

For the first time, Chancellor Crombie rose to speak. “We have no proof,” he said hesitantly. “The word of a condemned criminal is hardly adequate grounds for such an accusation.”

“I’m telling the truth,” Charlotte shouted. She flushed and lowered her head. “Believe me or don’t. I don’t care. Just get this damned mark off of me.”

“I believe you,” Danielle said softly. She glanced at the king, who nodded. To Father Isaac, she said, “Would you and Snow please do what you can to remove the curse?”

“What then?” asked Charlotte warily, showing hints of her old self.

Danielle watched the king, but he held his silence, allowing her to answer. “Once they’ve removed the curse and you’ve told us everything you know, I want you gone from Lorindar. Forever.”

Charlotte’s face reddened. For a moment, Danielle thought she might actually start shouting as she had done in the past. Instead, she whispered, “Thank you.” She spun toward Snow. “You heard her. Remove this thing at once!”

Danielle spotted Talia disappearing out the doors. Danielle bowed hastily to the king and queen before hurrying after.

“Where are you going?” Snow asked.

“To stop Talia from doing something foolish.”

 

Danielle hated visiting Talia’s room in the palace. Most of the senior servants shared quarters in the base of the northwest tower. Talia and Snow were among the few to have their own rooms, courtesy of Beatrice. Snow’s room was a carefully cultivated masterpiece of clutter, with a few small magical traps scattered throughout to turn away anyone who got too nosey.

Talia’s room was the opposite. Small but tidy, with a folded cot that never saw use, it was little better than a closet. She deserved so much more, but every time Danielle raised the subject, Talia brushed her off.

Danielle found Talia removing her clothes from a small trunk, laying each garment into one of three piles on the floor. Talia didn’t bother looking up. “You make too much noise when you walk, Princess. That scabbard slaps your leg with every step. Remind me to adjust the straps before I go.”

“You’re not leaving,” said Danielle.

“Roudette got away. She’ll keep coming for me.”

“You fought her before,” Danielle pointed out.

“It doesn’t matter.” There was no fight left in Talia’s words. “Queen Lakhim knows where I am. If not Roudette, she’ll send someone else. She’ll keep trying, and she won’t care who gets caught in the bloodshed.”

Danielle pulled the door shut behind her. Sunlight squeezed through a narrow window on the far wall. “They’re your sons. Surely we can talk to Arathea, explain—”

“Mutal and Mahatal are seven . . . no, eight years of age. Roudette might have been hired on their authority, promised their gold, but the order came from their grandmother. Lakhim won’t stop until I’ve paid for the murder of her son.”

Danielle sat down beside her. “It wasn’t murder. What he did to you—”

“You think she cares? Prince Jihab was her only son.” She stumbled ever so slightly over the name. “I cut his throat while he slept. I thought it poetic, considering what he did to me during mine. With him gone, his mother rules as haishak—as regent—until her grandsons come of age.” Talia tossed a sash onto the closest pile. She stared at the pile, looking lost. “My own sons, and I can’t even remember what they looked like.”

Danielle picked up the sash and began refolding it. Talia might be fairy-blessed, but her gifts didn’t extend to laundry.

“I remember their crying,” Talia said. “Sometimes I think that’s what woke me from the curse. Not the pain of childbirth, but the crying.” She pushed back the mattress on the cot, and dust wafted through the air. She snatched a long dagger from beneath the mattress and tucked it beside her clothes. “I can’t tell you what they looked like, but I remember their father. I remember his triumph when he returned to claim me. His prize, Princess Talia Malak-el-Dahshat. His family’s key to the throne of Arathea. I killed him, Danielle. No treaty gives Lorindar the right to shelter a prince’s killer.”

“So we’ll write a new treaty,” Danielle said.

That earned a weak smile. Talia reached into the trunk and pulled out a long-stemmed pipe. She held it to the light, inspecting the carved ivory bowl and the curved wooden stem before returning it to its case. “In Arathea, family comes before all. I’m only surprised it took them so long to find me.”

“What about Snow?”

“We both know there’s no happy ending to that tale. It’s past time for me to move on.” The tightness in Talia’s shoulders belied her casual tone. “She’s been uncomfortable with me for a while now.”

“I never told her how you felt about her,” Danielle said.

“I know.” Talia pulled a makeshift stiletto from the bottom of the trunk. Made of a thick metal spike with frayed twine covering the lower half, it was far from intimidating. “I made this in Arathea from a stolen tent peg. Three times it saved my life.”

Danielle stood, trying to ignore the emptiness in her chest. Talia was one of her closest friends. One of her only friends, really. The life of a princess didn’t lend itself to trusting relationships. “You can’t leave. You swore an oath to serve Beatrice, remember?”

“Beatrice is dying,” Talia said flatly. “I serve her best by eliminating Roudette and by making sure nobody else is drawn into my feud with Arathea.”

“What do I tell Jakob?” Danielle asked. “How do I answer when he asks why Aunt Tala had to go away?”

“Low blow, Princess.”

“You’re the one who taught me to fight.” Danielle forced a smile. “Talia, please give us a chance. Let Theodore and Beatrice talk to Arathea.”

Talia looked past her, toward the door. Footsteps hurried through the hallway, stopping outside. Talia rose, tent stake knife clutched behind her back.

“Princess Danielle?”

“Nicolette?” Danielle rose to open the door.

“The queen said I’d find you here.” Nicolette was out of breath, her hair a sweaty mess. Bloody scratches marked her neck, and her lip was swollen. “Jakob’s run off, Highness.”

“What happened to you?” Danielle asked.

Nicolette touched her face. “Jakob was playing some sort of hiding game, but I’m afraid it frightened the others, and that scared him in turn. All of a sudden they were screaming and running every which way. I scooped him up, and he hammered me good with his forehead.” She licked her swollen lip. “I handed him off to Marguerite so I could try to contain the rest, but he managed to slip away from her.”

“Talia, will you help us look?” Danielle asked innocently. “Jakob might come out for his Aunt Tala.”

Talia narrowed her eyes. “You don’t need me. There are only so many nooks and corners a boy his age could get to.”

“What was the game?” If Danielle knew what Jakob was playing, it might help her figure out where he’d gone.

“I’m not sure,” said Nicolette. “Something about hiding from the wolves.”

Danielle grabbed Nicolette’s arm. She tried to keep her voice calm, though her heart was pounding. “How was Jakob acting? Was he laughing, or did he appear serious?”

“He wasn’t laughing.” Nicolette stared, alarm in her eyes as she took in Danielle’s reaction. “What is it, Princess?”

“He’s Beatrice’s grandson. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s shown signs of her gifts.” Danielle started to run. “Get the children inside. All of them.”

Talia was already keeping pace beside her. “It makes no sense for Roudette to come here. She knows she can’t enter the palace without being caught.”

Danielle hurried up the steps. “How long would it take Roudette to reach the palace from Stone Grove?”

They froze as they entered the courtyard. The howls were faint, but the sound raised goose bumps on Danielle’s skin.

Talia swore. “Not long at all.”

I
F ANYTHING COULD HAVE HELPED to clear Talia’s mind, it was the arrival of an enemy to fight. She was almost grateful to Roudette for the distraction.

She stepped in front of Danielle and searched the courtyard. The wolves sounded as though they were running through the city streets. She heard screams as well. The palace staff were looking about in confusion.

“Get inside,” Talia shouted, pushing the closest toward the door. She waved to get the attention of the guards atop the wall. When that failed, she scooped a piece of stone from the ground beside the wall and threw. It clanged from the closest man’s helm.

“What in God’s name—” The guard straightened, spotting Danielle.

“Bar the gates,” Talia shouted. “Make sure the king and queen are safe!”

He started to argue, took another look at Danielle’s expression, and made for the gates.

“You too, Princess,” said Talia.

“Jakob is out here.” Danielle didn’t even bother to stare her down. She simply shoved past Talia and shouted for her son.

“Talia!” Snow was running from the chapel. “Roudette is on her way.”

“We know.” Talia jabbed a finger at Danielle. “Her son already warned us.”

“Unfair!” Snow stopped. “I spent hours working on those wards, and
Jakob
spots her before I do?”

“Jakob’s hiding,” said Danielle, running toward the storeroom. She was keeping her fear under control, but Talia could hear the panic in her voice. “Can you find him?”

“Maybe,” said Snow. “But he knows where my mirrors are placed. Remember the last time he hid from us, after he threw your husband’s shoes into the well? The kid’s too smart for his own good.”

Talia moved into the center of the courtyard. She turned slowly, listening as she tried to understand what Roudette was doing. After all of her work to lure Talia out into the open, why risk everything by attacking the palace directly?

Screams and snarls broke out closer to the gate. A dog’s barks changed to whimpers, then fell silent. The wolves were almost here.

What then? The wolves couldn’t get inside, though that wouldn’t stop Roudette. The north and east walls of the palace rose directly from the white cliffs, meaning Roudette would need to enter through the south or west.

Talia waited, mentally tracking the sound of the wolves. Atop the walls, guards rushed toward the south gates, where the wolves were loudest. Talia turned to face the western wall. “Danielle! The wolves are a distraction. Roudette’s coming from the west. We have to get you out of here
now
!”

“Not without Jakob!” Danielle slammed the storeroom door and turned around, her eyes wide. “The bakehouse. Derrick was making honey cakes this morning.”

“Go!” Talia followed at a distance, still watching the walls. That damned red cape should have been like a banner. Where was she?

“Jakob Theodore Whiteshore!” Danielle ran to the low brick building on the eastern wall and threw open the door. Inside, Talia could see the young prince sitting on the floor, his clothes caked in flour. Danielle scooped him into her arms. “What have I told you about running from Nicolette?”

“No to do it.” Jakob clung to his mother. “There are monsters and a scary lady.”

Monsters. Talia turned. “Jakob, where is the scary lady now?”

Jakob started to shake. He buried his face in Danielle’s shoulder, but pointed toward the chapel.

“Impossible,” said Snow. “I was just there. Roudette couldn’t have gotten past us.”

Jakob shook his head. Talia moved closer, straining to hear his words. “No Roudette,” Jakob mumbled. “Charlotte. She hurted Papa Isaac.”

“Damn her,” Talia said. “I should have killed the bitch when I had the chance.”

“Kill the bitch!” Jakob yelled.

“Thank you, Talia.” Danielle switched Jakob to her other side. “Snow, get back there and—”

“Too late.” Talia pointed a knife at the chapel, where Charlotte had emerged. Yellow fire burned along her skin. She stumbled as though drunk. Smoke swirled around her legs like a miniature dust devil. She was still wearing the iron bracelet Father Isaac had made. The bracelet glowed orange as though fresh from the forge. “I thought Charlotte couldn’t do witchcraft.”

“It’s not her.” Snow’s hands traced a spell. “It’s a fire sprite. A fairy creature.”

“I hate magic.” Talia glanced at Snow. “No offense. How the hell did that thing get through the walls?”