The Spy Princess (23 page)

twelve

“Y
es,” I said louder. “Though I don't agree. But that's just what Peitar really
did
say at the trial. People should have free speech. Exchange ideas. But it has to be ideas, not threats. Or else we'll be fighting each other forever.” My eyes stung, and, oh, I missed my brother. “We can't fight each other, we just can't. Or we'll be all ready for Norsunder to come get us. That's what Peitar said. At the trial.” My voice broke on the word
trial
.

Everyone was quiet, then Landos said, “How's this. Since none of us knows what really happened, let's call a truce.”

“All right with me,” the gilder agreed after a pause. “Though no truce is going to bring back my dad and uncle.”

“Well.” The housemaid squinted up at the sky as cold raindrops spattered our faces. “One thing for sure. No one is going to do much fighting if that storm coming on is as bad as it looks.”

The female driver turned around. “You all right back there? Anyone have anything that melts in rain?” Laughter. Surreptitiously I pushed the fashion book down farther into my waistband, until it crowded my bag of thief tools into my hipbones.

The downpour started. I hoped my two layers of clothes would keep the worst off, and curled myself in as tight a ball as I could. I was glad of the bodies pressed up against me, for they kept me warm, and I was lulled to sleep by the steady jolt of the wagon.

I woke when it stopped. We were in a half-burned barn, moonlight glowing through cracks in the roof. The prentices climbed out, someone saying, “I'll find the lanterns.”

Golden light soon illuminated people stretching, others scouting around for fodder, and someone else unpacking baskets. There
had
been a lot of us crammed into that cart. The gilders stood aside in a group until a glazier girl approached them. “We've got bread and cheese. Plenty,” she said.

“Thanks,” the red-haired boy responded.

Soon everyone was eating. I picked a spot on a fallen timber near the barn door. People talked quietly around me. It seemed that the city guards were fighting each other, so nobody knew who was in control for sure. Some thought the king still was, others that Captain Leonos (“The traitor!” “No, the hero!”) was. The two armies were forming up in the land east of the city, but no one was certain where. I'd have to be careful, then, for I was determined to find Derek and Bernal's army, because I knew the foresters would have taken Peitar to them.

After that, the talk turned to friends and families, sleep and shelter. Once I heard the name
Diamagan
, but then the voices dropped into whispers.

“Who are you?” Landos came up to me. Lamplight from the wagon reflected in his dark eyes and threw his features into high relief.

“I'm Larei,” I said.

He sat beside me. “I'm Landos Gilad. You know Lord Peitar Selenna. It was the way you said his name. Like you were friends. Or . . . family.”

Oh, no!
I stared, trying to put together a convincing lie.

He continued, with a friendly smile, “I like solving puzzles, and you're making more pieces by the moment.”

I remembered what he'd said earlier about my brother. I whispered, “Lilah Selenna.” He looked baffled. “My name. Larei is my . . . disguise.”

He blinked, his brows knit in confusion. “But you're—”

“A girl,” I admitted.

“Well, I was going to say a kitchen boy. But . . . there was a rumor, just before we left. About the Sharadan brothers and the rescue. Someone even said that boys were part of the Sharadan brothers.”

What did it matter now? “It's true. Well, two boys were Sharadan brothers, and two girls. I'm one of them.”

His gaze stayed on my face like he was trying to read a book. “You're Lord Peitar's sister
and
a Sharadan brother? Hoo!”

“Where are we? I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“We're on the East Road. Come morning we'll turn south into Orleos.”

“I know that road,” I said, thinking out loud. “We're on the border of Selenna. I could go home.”

“You can't go up there alone!”

“Aren't we too far east for trouble? Everyone says the armies are right outside the city, and we left Miraleste a long time ago.”

“The army might be spread out,” Landos said. “We passed several parties of warriors riding around, searching.”

Even though Selenna House had been burned and looted, and held such bad memories, all of a sudden I just wanted to go home. I'd figure out my next step from there. “I'm good at hiding,” I said.

“I can't stop you,” Landos said, looking unhappy. “But even for a Sharadan brother, I think it's dangerous.”

“My whole life has been dangerous lately,” I said. That came out sounding so pompous my face burned, and I got up. “In fact, seems to me, since the moon's out, the best time for me to go is right now.”

“At least let me give you another sandwich.”

“Thanks!” I said gratefully.

I stashed it in my tunic next to my book, and was on my way.

• • •

T
HE MOONLIGHT MADE
travel easy. I walked until my knees ached so much I couldn't go on. When I spotted a haystack in a nearby field, I crawled into the middle. It was dry and warm, and I slept until dawn, when a snuffling sound woke me. I pushed the hay aside, and there was a loose horse lipping at the hay. When I stood and laid a hand on its neck, it shook its mane and shifted position. Oh! Waiting to be saddled—that meant it was a riding horse.

I found an upturned wheelbarrow to help me mount, and trotted northward, holding on to the horse's mane with both fists.

When I saw more bad weather coming, I gobbled down my flat, stale sandwich and braced myself. The deluge was soon so strong that I could barely see an arm's length ahead. Oddly, the horse seemed to like the rain. The storm moved on near sunset, and there was a familiar line of hills not far ahead. I was near Riveredge.

When the horse began drooping, I slid off. It walked toward the river as I headed for the wall around Selenna House. With the sun gone, the cool air rapidly chilled. My teeth were chattering by the time I spotted the glowing windows of the Riveredge cottages.

I climbed over the wall and made my way through the garden toward Selenna House. I was surprised to see light in Father's rooms and a distant twinkling, like someone swinging a lantern. Had Lizana come back? Or maybe villagers had taken over the house. At least I was dressed as Larei.

I scaled the argan tree to my room and eased through the now-broken window. The floor was covered with dirt, but the glass had fallen outside.

I was home.

What next? I pulled out the fashion book. It was damp but not soaked. I shoved it under my mattress, then headed downstairs, readying my story. But when I got to the bottom of the stairs, two warriors closed in from either side, one carrying a lantern.

They walked me to Father's parlor, which had been swept, the ruined furniture replaced with benches and a rickety table from the barn, on which was spread a large map. A man in velvet and jewels held Peitar's old lap desk, on which he had written so many letters to Derek. He and a burly warrior faced someone by the fire.

It was my uncle in full war gear—a long purple battle tunic over chain mail, gauntlets, sword strapped over his back, knives in the top of each boot. I lurched to a stop, my mouth open.

Uncle Darian gave me a wry glance.

“I am sorry about your father,” he said.

thirteen

“I
t
is
you, Lilah, is it not?” When I shrugged, Uncle Darian said, “You look indistinguishable from most of the urchins thieving on the streets.”

“Thieving because they can't get food any other way.” I tried to sound brave.

“Thieving—most of them—because they like theft. But we will have leisure to discourse on this subject later.” He glanced at my grubby gray tunic and knee pants and bare feet and shook his head. “It is probably the most effective disguise in use,” he continued, his tone sardonic. “I missed you once, didn't I? Where was that?”

In the kitchen
, I thought.

“Ah, yes. The kitchen. What were you doing there, as you did not see fit to make your presence known to me?”

The man in velvet spoke up. “Spying for her traitor brother.” It was Flendar! He pointed at me. “I will wager anything that you've found your missing spy for the Sharadan brothers.”

My uncle gave a short laugh, and the big military man said, “If so, she ran you good, Flendar, you must admit.” It was Benoni.

Those swinging lanterns—those had been sentries. “I don't understand. Why are you here?”

“We decided to wait out the weather in relative comfort,” my uncle said. “And so we set up our command post here. We will rejoin the army when the weather lifts.”

“Command post?” I repeated numbly.

“We constitute the east wing of the army.” He gestured to Benoni, who returned to the papers he was reading.

“I thought you were all outside Miraleste. You mean Bernal's people are caught between two halves of your army?”

“I'm afraid you're right,” Uncle Darian said, but he didn't sound the least bit afraid. “I suppose Diamagan has joined them by now. And your brother?” He didn't wait for an answer. “Now, let me ask you the same question. What are
you
doing here?”

“I don't know where they are,” I said. “I came alone. I didn't know where else to go.”

“Until I can determine the truth of that, you may stay in a safe place.” He addressed the guards in the doorway. “Take my niece to the cellar room I showed you.”

The guards each took hold of one of my arms. They were silent as they led me downstairs and locked me in the treasure room—the same one I'd rescued Derek from before the troubles started.

As soon as I heard the guards leave, I began a feverish, fruitless search for a catch to the secret passage. Peitar had told me there wasn't one, but maybe he'd just never found it. Finally, exhausted, near tears, I gave up, and curled up on the stone floor. I was startled awake by the clatter of the lock.

The door opened, someone yanked me to my feet and pushed me out, to where Flendar waited.

“Tie her hands,” he said to the guards, then to me, “The weather is not cooperative. We must postpone finishing off Bernal Diamagan's rabble until we can actually see them. So it's time for you to show us your skills, Sharadan brother. Ready for a game of fox and hounds?”

I opened my mouth, but no sounds came out.

“You will now find out how they welcome cadets at Obrin. You are the fox, and we are the hounds. If you can't evade us, you get a thrashing.” He brandished a thin wooden cane.

Up the stairs I stumbled, then the tallest of the guards shoved me down the hall into the foyer.

“Trees are off limits. Thus your hands are bound, to remind you of the rules.”

As we passed Father's parlor, my uncle looked up from his reading. My fashion book!

Sick with horror, I stared as he said, “You left footprints upstairs leading straight to it.” He sat back, as rain poured outside the window. “I do not have the time to peruse all of this remarkable, if ill-written document. It is very difficult to read, but it's obvious that you and three other brats are connected to the Sharadan brothers.” He looked at me, waiting for an answer.

I gulped and studied my toes.

“A remarkable achievement, if even half the rumors are correct. Have you anything to say?”

“You were going to kill Peitar.”

“I may yet have to,” was the answer. “We shall see. As soon as the rain stops, we will put an end to the conflagration you and your friends so blithely set. After which I plan to read your contribution to the family history. And then,” he said, “we will talk again.”

He waved at Flendar, who gave me a push toward the front door. Did my uncle know what was about to happen? Yes, he knew. No use in begging for leniency, claiming that I was just a kid—the same thing had been done to him, and at a much younger age, by the very adults who were supposed to love and protect him.

“Run,” Flendar said as soon as we stepped outside. “You have the count of fifty.”

I splashed across the drive toward the garden. The rain was heavy and hard, and lightning and thunder made it worse. The garden was almost unfamiliar in that bluish light—but not quite. They had to be watching me, so I ran northward in a big circle, laying a false trail. My head ached, and my steps were slow. Twice I blundered into branches and fell in the mud.

But terror got me up again, running until my side was stitched with pain. At last I reached the center of the garden, and the thicket of shrubs that Peitar had made me learn.

Glad of every single prickle, I burrowed through, dropped to my throbbing knees, and scrabbled about with my feet until I found the oddly-shaped rock and the woven twine rope. I burrowed my toes under the rock, and shoved my foot under the twine. It scraped painfully, but I pulled with all my strength.

The passage opened almost directly under me. I tumbled in and it closed, water cascading around me. I was safe.

Fear still washed through me in waves. I crouched on the stairs until I could breathe again, then rose shakily and felt my way down the tunnel to where we had slept after the revolution. In the pitch dark, backed up against the piles of treasure, I searched carefully until I found what I was looking for—a big, old-fashioned saber—and used it to saw through the sash binding my wrists.

What now? Where could I go?

I leaned down to find the lantern. When I straightened up, Tsauderei's ring bumped my ribs. I'd forgotten it again! I could do the spell—he, Peitar, and Lizana, would want me to do just that.

But I was a Sharadan brother, and this was my home ground.

So I waited until night had well and truly fallen. The storm was unabated; all I could hear was the roar of rain.

I left the passage, making sure the fountain slid shut behind me. Then I faded around the side of the house until I reached the open kitchen window, streaming with light. Two guards were preparing food and loading it onto trays.

As soon I heard them leave, I climbed inside and slid a shallow bowl and a plate from the crockery shelf. I pulled out my thief tools. I sucked in a deep breath, opened my Lure bag, shook all the blossoms into the bowl, covered it with the plate, and stuck my head out the open window to breathe fresh air until my head cleared.

Then I slipped out into the empty hall. The downstairs guards seemed to have joined my uncle and his commanders in the parlor, judging from the sounds of talk and cutlery.

I heard Benoni's deep laugh, followed by, “Flat disappeared! More fool you, Flendar.”

Again taking a deep breath, I removed the plate, cracked open the parlor door, rolled the bowl in, and pulled the door shut.

Someone tried to turn the knob. I held on frantically. Then I heard the thump of someone falling to the floor.

What had Atan said?
The best way to shipwreck a government is to capture all the leaders.
And so I had. But what then?

The Lure would probably lose its virtue by midnight or so, after which my uncle and his commanders and guards would begin waking up. I knew what I ought to do—I ought to use the ring and transfer to Tsauderei and tell him what I'd done, and then he could find Peitar and Derek. But I was crying too hard to do anything but stand there.

Gradually I became aware of lights, voices, the sound of footsteps. Torches bobbed outside with a sinister, smoldering light, just like the night my father was killed.

I poised to run, one hand on the door, the other holding the ring.

The front door opened and several figures hurried in, led by a slender male silhouette limned in golden-red torchlight. A limping silhouette.

“Peitar?” I gasped, and relief made me dizzy.

“There she is!” That was Landos Gilad, holding a lantern.

“Lilah, I'm
sorry
,” Deon exclaimed, Innon and Bren at either side. “The bells weren't ringing, and the rain—I tried to guess at noon—I banged on the door, didn't I, Innon? But you didn't answer, and they were waiting to take us to—”

Derek bent close, interrupting Deon's stream of words. “Are you all right, Lilah?”

“Peitar?” I wiped my eyes on my sleeve. “Derek?
Landos?
”

“He risked a lot coming to find us.” Derek clapped Landos on the shoulder.

“I left the wagon,” Landos said. “And went back alone to find Lord Peitar. I told the king's people I was a messenger, so they passed me through. I have a feeling that some of them are secretly sympathetic, because they didn't ask any questions. And when I reached the sentries on the other side, all I had to mention was ‘Lilah Selenna,' and—”

“He told us quite a story about you and the Sharadan brothers,” Derek said.

At his shoulder, the other three brothers grinned, Deon hopping up and down in glee. “We're
famous
,” she whispered.

But Peitar looked serious. “So we rode straight here. We stopped at Bren's house to change horses, and he said that two of Uncle Darian's personal guard were in Riveredge yesterday, scavenging food, right before the storm hit. I feared the worst. So I came to trade my life for yours. . . .”

“And I came to offer mine for his,” Derek said, looking around. “However, no one seems to be here except you.”

“Where is our uncle?” Peitar asked.

“Here.” I pushed open the door a crack, and the sweet, dreamy, all-conquering scent of Lure drifted out. “Hold your breath.”

Peitar looked past me. The parlor was filled with slumbering forms, most prominent of which was Uncle Darian, hand stretched toward the door.

“What?” Derek croaked in flat disbelief, as Riveredge villagers entered and crowded in behind him to take a look. He moved away from the parlor. “How did you do that?” he asked, and everybody stared at me.

I shut the door. “Slam justice,” I said.