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  Unlike Leif apparently, Tui is smart enough to know not to argue.

  Not only that, his face breaks out in a huge grin. “That’s why I’ve been on this journey with you this far, Raven. You are wiser beyond your years and you always think of others first. You are a Woman King, of Nuimana, and here in Nadir. You might not be officially crowned yet, but you are.”

  I feel a sense of calm at Tui’s words. Words I now realize I needed to hear from Leif too. “Anyway,” I continue, “Leif doesn’t agree. He thinks war is justified to see me to the throne.”

  Catriona’s been listening carefully, and now she speaks up. “Well, Leif is wrong. I agree with you, Raven. To take offensive action would likely be devastating to our cause. They could crown the Prince prematurely, it can be done in a state of war, even civil war—at least now we’ve got a week of mourning until that possibility.”

  “Then I’ll go see Dominic at once. We’ve no time to lose.”

  Catriona raises her brows. “Unfortunately, it’s not going to be quite that easy, I’m afraid.”

  “Why? What do you mean? Go on.”

  “Well, Tui and I sussed out the Palace on our way here. It’s surrounded, Raven, Loyalists and Hunters are everywhere. Word has gotten out—” She pauses, bites her bottom lip. I can tell the news is not good.

  “What? Tell me.”

  She takes a deep breath. “Word has gotten out that Araroa was poisoned. They know foul play was involved.”

  I open my mouth to tell her that’s impossible, but then I remember Araroa’s face when I saw him last—the purple lips, the bloodshot eyes. His illness did seem quite sudden. Then I’m sure it’s true: someone had the King poisoned.

  “This is not good. Not at all. Leif had told me the Loyalists already suspect me of foul play … now they’ll suspect me of murder!”

  “If I may be frank,” Tui puts in, “I don’t think your reputation will be tarnished in the Loyalists’ eyes. Besides, this is great news. Don’t you see? We’ve got someone or somebodies on our side inside the Palace. And nobody—not even us—knows who all they may be. Everyone will be watching their back.”

  Tui’s right—we know about the hooded boy, but clearly there must be others.

  I smile, for what feels like the first time in hours. “And I know the one who’s going to help us inside to see the Prince.”

  Catriona’s eyes flash with excitement. She clasps her hands in front of her in mock pleading. “Can I come? Please? We can’t let you go alone.”

  “Me too,” Tui says. “I’m going with you both.”

  A flash of annoyance crosses Catriona’s face. “You don’t have to. We don’t need a bodyguard or anything”—her eyes look down at my side, where Fortissima used to live—“but Raven does need another sword. Can you find her one?”

  “Sure can. But I’m not going to act as bodyguard—too chicken. I wouldn’t miss watching Raven kick the little weasel’s arse for the world.” He slaps his knees, then stands. “I’ll go see about that sword. When should we leave?”

  “As soon as you’ve got that sword,” I reply. “If you see Imogen, can you tell her I need to speak with her?”

  “Will do,” Tui says, bowing his head. He looks back up at me, a corner of his mouth quirking up, and adds, “Your Majesty.”

  I smile back at him as he turns to go.

  Chapter 13

  I’m still holding the plate of breakfast food, but my appetite is long gone.

  Catriona nudges my arm. “Eat, Raven. No telling when our next meal will be.”

  I scoop up some of the egg with a piece of flatbread. My mouth is bone dry but I manage to choke most of the food down with long slugs of coffee.

  My plate is nearly empty when Tui returns, accompanied by Imogen. She stops before me, smiling.

  I set the plate down beside me, then stand. “Thanks for coming, Imogen.”

  “Maybe Catriona and I should let you two talk in private,” Tui says, grabbing Catriona’s hand and pulling her to standing. “We’ll go track down that sword for you. Need anything else, Raven?”

  Yes, I need about a hundred things. None of which I can have. “No, I’m good. Thanks, Tui.”

  He winks, then grabs the breakfast things, and he and Catriona head back to the camp.

  “Leif came to find me. He told me what you’ve got planned,” Imogen says, her face serious now. Her hand is resting on the hilt of her sword at her hip. My hand itches to do the same, as I used to do with Fortissima.

  “And you’re here to talk me out of it.”

  Her response is a half-grin. “No, I think it’s brilliant. We’ve got a week between now and the Prince’s coronation. He needs to be placated; anything can happen between now and then.” One of her eyebrows quirks up, although I’m not sure what she’s alluding to. Nevertheless, it’s a relief she agrees with me; Imogen’s wrath is not something I wish to face today.

  “Leif doesn’t think so. He thinks we should be more aggressive.”

  “Well, there’s a few things he doesn’t know … or understand. Aren’t there?”

  I smile back at her, glad to have my view confirmed. “Will you stay here and make sure the camp is safe? We need to be prepared if the Loyalists discover we’re out here and decide to do something … stupid about it.”

  “I’ll do that. I’ll keep an eye on Nile too, make sure he doesn’t try anything foolish.”

  I laugh. “That would be great. Wait—what are you doing?” I watch in disbelief as Imogen removes her sword belt, then offers it to me.

  I take a step back, shaking my head. “I told Tui to find me an old sword—I can’t take yours!”

  Imogen steps toward me, then presses the sword’s leather-wrapped grip into my hands. “I’d be honored for you to have her, m’lady. May she protect you in your encounter with Prince Dominic, and all other dangers, until your own sword is returned to you.” She bows her head and steps backward again.

  I close my hand on the grip, still warm from being at Imogen’s side. The belt leather is smooth and plain, a beautiful honey color. It looks like something Papa might have made. The sword is not richly embellished either, but it’s light and well-balanced in my hand.

  I look back up at Imogen with a smile. “Thank you so very much. I’ll take good care of her for you.”

  “Of course you will. Come on, let’s find Tui and Catriona. There’s no time to waste.”

  I strap the belt on—a little loose as Imogen’s so much taller than me—but I’m able to adjust it enough to fit.

  We find Tui and Catriona near the center of camp, ready to go.

  Tui smiles when he sees me wearing Imogen’s sword. “Much better. Suits you well.” I notice both he and Catriona have an extra knife on their belts. None of us admits it out loud, but what we’re about to attempt could see us killed.

  I slide my pack off my back; it’s light, with only my crown, a cloak, my shawl, a few other bits of clothing, and some crumbs of food inside. “Can you watch this for me? It’s very important. My crown—”

  But Imogen puts a finger to her lips. “I’ll keep a close eye on your things for you, won’t take it off my back, in fact.” She accepts my bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

  “If we don’t return by dark …” I start to say, but quickly realize I’m unsure what should happen then.

  She pats my shoulder. “If you’re not back by dark, we’ll assume you are fine. But if you’re not back by morning, we’re coming in after you. Good luck to all three of you.”

  “Okay,” I say, nodding. “Thanks, Imogen. For everything … all your support. Your leadership.”

  “’Tis nothing. Now, best to get on with it,” she says with a wink.

  I turn to go but Catriona speaks up behind me. “Wait—don’t you want to find Leif to say goodbye?”

  I stop. Considering. Then shake my head. “No. Let’s go. I’ll see him when I get back.”

  She doesn’t argue, and the three of us depart without fanfa
re, just as I like.

  We return to the hollowed-out tree, then make our way through the black underground tunnel. When the dim cellar light shows at the other end, I see that Tui’s been crawling on his knees. I have to hold a laugh in at the sight.

  “What’s so funny?” he says, turning his head to look back at me. “It’s a low ceiling.”

  “Gods, nothing’s funny, nothing whatsoever,” I say. “Just nervous.”

  We emerge into the cellar, mid-morning light streaming through the open hatch.

  “Well, that was the easy part,” Catriona says. “Now what?”

  “I need to find that boy,” I say, starting up the ladder. “The one that helped us at the stables. I know him … from before.”

  Neither Tui nor Catriona ask for more, and I can tell they know exactly what I’m referring to: when I was held for nearly a week in the Palace dungeon. I notice Tui’s throat bob as he swallows; his hands fist and unfold.

  “Let’s go then,” he says through clenched teeth.

  We’re about to leave the cottage, when Catriona makes a motion for me to stay back. “Let me go first, no one will recognize me. I’ll motion for you when I make sure it’s clear.”

  I don’t argue, following her into the narrow alley at the rear of the cottage, Tui close behind me.

  Catriona steps lightly but quickly, peering around every corner. She waves me on.

  Eventually, the towers of the Palace come into view, flags lowered halfway. We’re on the western side; we just need to make it around to the stables on the other.

  “Remember those hats we had?” Tui whispers. “Could come in handy now.” I’m about to respond when Catriona makes a shushing noise. The sound is urgent.

  “There’s some Loyalists over there. We’ve got to be careful. I think they’re expecting you, Raven.”

  I’ve no doubt she’s correct, and peer over her shoulder, around the corner. Indeed, four or five armed men are talking with a uniformed Hunter. They are passing a pipe around, laughing jovially.

  And then the Hunter’s eyes flick up, right into my face. His eyes go wide with recognition. “Hey! Stop!” He points at us.

  But of course we don’t. We run.

  Catriona’s fast, I can barely keep up. Tui’s footsteps are right behind me, and the Hunter’s not far back. I follow as Catriona weaves through the passages, the footsteps gradually falling farther behind.

  But not far enough.

  We’re nearly to the Palace and I glance down a street where I can see the Loyalists gathered en masse, surrounding the Palace.

  “Are … we … going … around?” I huff out, still running.

  Catriona shakes her head. “Nope, best way to get lost is in a crowd.”

  There’s no time to argue—we’re already there, Catriona’s pushing her way through the throngs of Loyalists with her elbows.

  “Hey!”

  “What the—”

  “Where you wenches going?”

  “Watch it arsehole!”

  Eventually I close my ears to the slurs as we make our way through the crowd. My nose burns with the smell of unwashed male bodies and musk and leather.

  They try to grab my arms, but I shrug them off. I keep pushing through.

  By the time someone figures out who we are and shouts out to not let us pass, we’re already through the square and ducking behind a wall. Just a little farther to go until the stables.

  I can’t bear to look behind us; I still hear footsteps following but we’re faster, ducking and weaving randomly through passageways.

  We finally reach the stables, dart inside, and hurl ourselves into the stall we’d stayed in before. The three of us collapse onto the piles of straw, panting.

  “Well, that was more exciting than I had expected,” I say through ragged breaths.

  Catriona pats my knee. “That was nothing, m’lady. Couldn’t have gone better.”

  Tui’s laying prone on the clean stall floor. “Speak for yourself. I’m about to have a heart attack.”

  There’s a soft knock on the stall door and my own heart nearly stops. I get up, open the small door just a crack, and smile. “Oh! You’re just the person I wanted to see,” I tell the hooded boy.

  His eyes glance around quickly. “I have something for you to drink, if you’d like.”

  I look down at the jug of water and cups he’s holding, and open the stall door so he can slip inside.

  He sets the jug on the stool, pours a cup for each of us. I take it, and drink the entire vessel down in one go.

  “How’d you know we were here?” I ask.

  A corner of his mouth turns up. “You caused a bit of excitement for those … Loyalists out there in the square. Word spreads quickly. I assume you’re here to see the Prince?”

  I have no idea how he would have known that, but I nod. “Yes. Straight away, please. Can you get us to him?”

  “Of course.”

  Before he left, the hooded boy told us the Prince always takes his afternoon tea in his chambers, alone. He said he’d take the three of us to him then.

  As he also promised, he returned a half-hour later with another basket of food. Tui, Catriona, and I don’t hesitate to devour every bite, as if it’s our last.

  “You really think he’s going to get us inside?” Tui asks.

  “I do,” I reply. “I trust him. I don’t know why, I just do.”

  Tui shrugs and takes another bite of his roast sandwich.

  Sure enough, the boy returns a few hours later. He’s got an armful of blue cloaks and we each take one to put on. Brilliant.

  We follow the passageways at the rear of the Palace, and eventually I start to recognize where we are: it’s the back entry to the dungeon.

  We stop at the entrance to the dark passage. The boy turns to look at me.

  “I’m very sorry to have to take you through here, m’lady Raven. The other entrances are being guarded right now. It’s the best way in.”

  “Of course. Of course it is. Totally fine. I’m completely fine with it.” I motion with my arm for him to continue on, but my throat starts to convulse. For a long moment, I think I’m going to be sick right here on the stone walkway.

  I take several deep breaths of fresh air, knowing the next few I take, as we pass through the underground horror that is the Palace dungeon, will be even more nauseating. But I can’t seem to will my feet to walk.

  “You all right?” Tui whispers, touching my arm lightly.

  I nod, saying nothing, even though I’m still standing stock-still, unable to move forward. I push my robe to the side frantically, trying to find the hilt of Imogen’s sword. My hand touches the warm leather grip, and I grasp onto it with a sudden sense of desperation. A feeling of ease passes through me then, the nausea dissipates, and I know I can go on. I guess it must be comforting just having a weapon at my side again.

  As we continue down the passageway, it grows darker with each step. The hooded boy unlocks the gate at the end and we slip through. Already the smell down here—dank, rotten, moist, and moldy—has enveloped us.

  I gag again, and bury my face in my sleeve, taking light breaths. I wish I could cover my ears at the same time: the sounds of torture and despair down here are as terrible as I remember. A screech reaches my ears and I shudder violently. I can’t bear to look into any of the cells we pass. The sounds and smells are bad enough.

  “Gods you were both right,” Catriona whispers, “when you said how awful this place was.” She makes a choking sound, presses her sleeve over her mouth too.

  We move quickly, at least, and are soon winding up the stone staircase. All of us take deep breaths of fresh air as we emerge into the entrance hall of the Palace.

  The three of us follow the boy soundlessly, our own cloak hoods pulled down far around our faces. I can’t help but glance into the throne room where a marble coffin lies in the center on a tableau. Large vases of blood-red flowers surround it: his favorite.

  I keep walking.
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  We continue up the circular staircase. A servant passes, heading down. My heart thrums and I wipe my sweaty palms on my robe. But the boy and the servant simply nod at each other in greeting; the servant pays no mind to us. The hooded boy clearly has some kind of status in the palace; I vow to find out more about him.

  We stop before a set of double doors just off the top of the stairs, and the hooded boy knocks softly.

  “Come in.” Dominic’s voice.

  The boy pushes one of the doors open. Dominic is sitting at a large desk, books and papers spread before him.

  “I’ve got the visitors I told you about, Your Majesty. Would you like for me to stay?”

  Dominic stands and moves to a table set for afternoon tea. “No. I’ll be fine on my own.”

  The hooded boy nods once. “Very well. I’ll be right outside should you need anything.” He motions for us to go in, so I enter, Tui and Catriona following close behind. The door closes.

  I remove my hood, letting it fall down my back. Clearly the Prince was expecting me—his face registering no sign of surprise.

  “Have some tea. Your friends too”—he motions toward the platters of cakes and biscuits, tea sandwiches, cheeses and meats—“if you dare.” He raises a brow. Then his face bursts into a grin. “Just kidding. I have my assistant taste everything now, before I eat it. You know, because of what happened to Father.”

  I take a tentative step toward the table. “I am sorry about what happened to … our father. Nobody deserves that kind of fate.” I don’t really believe that though, not one bit. King Araroa deserved every last second of misery the poison caused.

  The Prince seats himself, and I take his lead, settling myself into the chair opposite. He glances back to Tui and Catriona, still standing in front of the door. “Like I said, your friends are welcome to join us too.”

  “I’m fine here, thanks,” Tui says, crossing his arms in front of him.

  “Same,” Catriona says. I can’t see her hands though—they’re hidden in her robe, and I hope that’s because she’s got a knife in one.