All The King's-Men (The Yellow Hoods, #3) (19 page)

“Take care of her,” said Tee as she took the stairs up to their rooms. “She’s a good kid.”

“I will,” replied Christina, moving to wake Mounira.

Tee hadn’t been lying down for more than two minutes before she heard Elly ask, “Tee, are you awake?”

“Of course she’s awake,” answered Franklin, sitting up. “She was downstairs chatting with Miss Mysterious Abominator.”

Elly sat up and glanced around the small room that the three of them had shared. The three beds were in a tight u-shape, with just a bit of room in the middle for any of them to get in or out. Christina and Mounira had been in the adjacent room.

Tee grabbed her yellow cloak and backpack from under her bed. “Christina’s taking Mounira with her. She has to go. There’s some big emergency.”

“What?” said Elly, shocked. “Christina’s abandoning us?”

Franklin whistled and rolled his eyes. “Wow, I can’t believe it. Oh, that’s brilliant! Now that she’s sacked Klaus’ lab, she’s off. Wow, were we suckers,” he said angrily.

Tee put on her cloak, slid on her backpack, and walked to the door. She thought back to how Christina had been clutching the backpack. She wondered if there could be some truth to Franklin’s paranoid suspicion. However, she knew as the leader that she had to stop that line of thinking. “It’s not like that.”

Elly threw off her blankets. “Then how is it, Tee?”

Tee looked at Elly, then Franklin, and back at Elly. She didn’t want to answer, and her face went steely.

“Stop doing that!” yelled Elly. “I hate that face!”

Franklin turned to Elly. “I think you and I are going to be on our own soon.”

Elly pointed sharply at Franklin. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” said Franklin, with a hint of taunt in his voice.

“You keep trying to wedge in between people! Tee and me, and everyone and Christina. Just how insecure are you?” said Elly, bringing the room to an awkward silence. Elly flared her fingers in frustration. “I’m guessing we’re still supposed to go to Herve, somehow?”

Tee pulled the map out of her backpack. “She gave me this map. We’ll have breakfast, get on the King’s-Horses, and head out.”

“Let me see it,” said Franklin, trying to snatch the map from Tee’s hands.

Tee twisted around, avoiding him. Franklin grabbed Tee around the waist. Tee immediately threw her arms up, slipping out of Franklin’s grip, and then punched the back of his knees. He fell to the ground with a thud.

“Don’t you
ever
do that again,” said Tee, standing over him.

Franklin looked up at the spinning faces of Tee and Elly. His head was only mildly sore, but at the back of his mind, he imagined his schoolmates laughing at him for being dropped by a girl—never mind a girl a year and a half younger than him. 

“Show me the map,” demanded Elly, as Franklin slowly got up.

Tee hesitated.

Elly’s confidence started to shake. “Tee?” she asked.

With a heavy sigh, Tee laid the map on the floor. 

Franklin wrinkled his face. “You call that a map? It’s got arrows all over the place. What language is that even scribbled on it? That’s not Frelish, that’s for sure,” he said, gathering up his clothes and heading for the shared washroom.

“What is this, Tee?” asked Elly. “Can you even read this stuff?”

Tee lowered her eyes as she thought, before raising them to meet Elly’s gaze. “My grandfather taught me when I was little. I didn’t know it was a real language.”

Elly could sense Tee was holding something back. Her face fell as she realized that with every passing day, there seemed to be more and more that she wasn’t a part of. There weren’t supposed to be any secrets between them; they’d promised each other that a million times over. Elly remembered when she’d revealed her greatest secret to Tee, and how freeing it was to know that Tee accepted her for who she was. Now there seemed to be more of them piling up by the hour.

Mounira quietly walked alongside Christina, eating the muffin she’d been given and taking in the early morning sounds and sights of the forest. 

She caught a couple glimpses of Christina checking on her. There was something in those moments that reminded Mounira of when her aunts would look in on her and her cousins.

“Why am I coming with you?” asked Mounira, unable to hold in the question any longer.

Christina smiled. “I have my reasons. That’s all you need to know.”

“No, it isn’t,” said Mounira cheerfully.

A laugh spilled out of Christina. Only Mounira could be defiant and jolly about it, she thought. “A really bad thing happened near my home, and I’m afraid it’s a sign of things to come. I want you close so that… I can protect you.” Christina gave Mounira a tender smile.

“Oh,” said Mounira. “Why?”

Christina’s face shifted, revealing some of her discomfort in answering. She pushed herself to answer. “Do you trust me?” 

Mounira took Christina’s hand. “I do. We did save my friends the other day. I’m sure you’re doing the right thing. We will come back and see them again, right?”

With her emotions just below the surface, Christina nodded. “Definitely. There’s a storm coming and we’re going to get umbrellas and coats.”

“Then let’s go,” said Mounira, pulling Christina forward.

When they arrived at the King’s-Horses, Christina’s face fell. The horses were toppled over, some parts and belts were strewn about, and branches were jammed into the open areas. 

Mounira watched quietly as Christina assessed the damage and opened all the panels. “I can repair one of them, I think, but the others will be useless.”

“Who could have done this?” asked Mounira.

Christina gave Mounira a look.

“You don’t think—”

“I do. Who else knew they were here?” asked Christina. “Give me that belt and that gear, please.” She opened one of the pouches and got out some small tools.

Half an hour later, Christina put the key into the heart-panel of the operational King’s-Horse and opened it. “We’re lucky this one wasn’t really damaged.”

“The pedals are broken. Aren’t you going to replace them? I mean, how can we… oh, what’s that?”

Christina removed a copper cube from her backpack. “You didn’t think that Nikolas and my father made big toy horses to go about the countryside only at the speed of a person running, did you?”

“Um,” said Mounira, wondering. “Wait, this is the engine! Franklin was right?”

Christina attached some cable, closed the heart-panel, and locked the engine door. “It’s called a mercury-copper-magnetic engine, or MCM. It is extremely rare to find them.”

“Why?” asked Mounira.

“Because no one can make them anymore. Or so we thought,” said Christina.

Reaching into the mouth of the King’s-Horse, Christina flipped a switch and brought it to life. It started vibrating and humming. “I can’t believe I still remember how to do this,” said Christina to herself, thinking back to her father teaching her.

Mounira was in awe.

“Turn around. I need to put these on you,” said Christina, taking a pair of goggles out of her backpack. “These used to be mine from when I was a kid. I never go anywhere without them. I’ve been dreaming of this day.”

“Why?” asked Mounira, turning around and letting Christina tighten the goggles properly into place.

“I was six the last time I was on one of these with an MCM, and that one wasn’t in anywhere near as good of a condition as this one,” said Christina, smiling.

“What are these for?” asked Mounira, tapping the goggles as Christina tightened them.

“The wind,” replied Christina.

“The wind?”

“You’ll see, Little Miss Questions,” replied Christina, helping Mounira up onto the King’s-Horse.

“What about Tee and Elly?” asked Mounira, surveying the smashed and disassembled King’s-Horses.

“Tee’ll figure it out,” said Christina hopefully. “Ready for a wild ride?” She put her feet in position and gripped the reins. “You better hold on tightly.”

Mounira grabbed on to the reins with her hand. “We flew the rocket-cart. How bad could this be?”

Christina laughed as she moved her feet, and the King’s-Horse bolted.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Lady in Red

Simon walked quietly into his library. He’d started going through some papers he’d brought with him, when Cleeves discovered him.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you’d entered, sir,” said Cleeves. It was rare that Simon ever came into the library with anything but a booming demand for Cleeves to fetch him something. He’d suspected Simon had returned in the early hours of the morning, as he’d seen the driver Simon had used walking by earlier in the courtyard.

Simon’s return was a relief, and meant that Cleeves could stop pretending that his master was simply unavailable or in another part of the manor or city. Simon had given strict instructions that no one was to know he’d left, including the regent. He’d ordered Cleeves to send any important messages to him by the fastest couriers or by the newly installed Neumatic Tube. It had been a harrowing task for the old man to keep track of where Simon was; fortunately, everything had gone flawlessly.

Simon glanced at Cleeves before returning to his papers.

“Sir, it’s good to see you. You have—” said Cleeves, interrupted by Simon’s glare. He noticed that Simon had a purple-pink bruise on his forehead and a red, swollen nose. A quick inspection of Simon’s high-collared shirt revealed it was hiding some bruising around his neck. Although it was rare for Simon to have any signs of physical conflict, the years had made it clear to Cleeves that it was best for all if he simply ignored it.

“What is it?” grumbled Simon. “Stop being a muttering idiot.”

Cleeves pointed to the walled office inside the library where Simon often met with Marcus when he visited. “You have a guest, sir.” 

Simon had hoped to be undisturbed for a few more days to allow his injuries to heal, and to think how he was going to deal with Abeland being on the loose. It was only a matter of time before Marcus found out, and that would unleash an entire other set of problems.

Glaring at the old bald man, Simon rubbed his throat again. “I don’t care who it is, send them away.”

“Sir, it’s—”

“Is it the Regent?” snapped Simon. “Because I don’t have time for—”

“The Regent is dead. Things are about to change,” said a woman’s gravelly voice from the office. 

Simon shot a sharp glare at Cleeves. He gestured, asking who it was.

Cleeves leaned forward, and using a hand to shield the words, whispered, “She’s wearing a red hood and cloak. Her face was hidden but she knew things about you and me.”

“Richelle?” asked Simon, confused.

Cleeves shook his head.

Simon scowled at Cleeves. “You don’t know who it is?” His nostrils flared as he raised his voice. “Why did you let her in?”

“Because I didn’t give him any choice,” said the woman, turning the corner. Her red-hooded cloak was embroidered with gold trim. Though her face remained covered, Simon could see a brown-and-blue dress underneath.

Simon straightened up quickly, his eyes going wide as he realized her rank in the Fare. They’d never met in person, always dealing through intermediaries.

“Um,” said Simon, at a loss for words. 

“It seems you’ve had a rather rough time recently,” she said, her hands hidden in the folds of her cloak.

Cleeves started to sweat as he saw Simon’s reaction. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Simon so visibly unsettled.

“Tea?” offered Cleeves.

“Yes, Cleeves, thank you,” said Simon hastily.

Cleeves stood there, confused for a second by the thank-you, before ushering himself off.

Simon rubbed his hands together, his shoulders rolling forward. “I don’t mean to be rude, but… why are you here?” he asked nervously.

“Do you mind if we sit?” asked the woman, as if Simon had a choice.

He smiled and gestured back towards the office.

“No, that room simply isn’t what I had in mind,” she said, her voice laced with malice. “There’s been too much treachery and failure in that room.”

Simon couldn’t see her eyes, but he could feel the heat of her gaze.

Simon pointed in the opposite direction. “I have a sitting area over here, by a fireplace. It’s… not lit, but I could—”