All The King's-Men (The Yellow Hoods, #3) (27 page)

At the sound of the shots, Elly dropped her wineskin in the creek and started running. “Tee!”

Franklin ran after her, tackling her. “She’s going to be okay! He’s just going to put a scare in her.”

Rolling over, Elly kicked Franklin squarely in the left eye. Franklin screamed as Elly got back to her feet.

“You have no idea what you’ve done!” she yelled, running. Elly already felt guilty for not trusting her instincts and for forcing Tee to tell her things. Now she was adding to it with the knowledge that she had abandoned Tee when she knew that Tee wasn’t at her best.

As Elly got to the brush-edge of the clearing, she saw Tee standing with her hands in the air and what appeared to be shock-sticks at her feet. 

“LeLoup!” whispered Elly, turning to see Franklin only a couple of yards away and closing quickly. “Do you have any idea what you did?”

One of the henchmen glanced up at the bushes.

“Don’t get distracted,” LeLoup told his henchmen. “The Watt boy knows the deal. He’ll take care of the other Hood.”

“So Tee— oh, how rude of me; may I call you Tee?” LeLoup asked.

Tee shrugged.

“Stop that! Stop it!” he yelled, firing into the air. “Are you even her?” he growled. “Maybe I should just skip all of this, kill you, and see whether or not I’ve spoiled my fun. You sound like Tee, but you aren’t acting like her.”

Franklin glared at Elly, rubbing his eye. “He works for my father! He’s going to take us to him after we get the plans. He just wants to put a scare into Tee. He said he owed her, and frankly, I think she deserves it.”

Tears of rage streamed down Elly’s face. “You are the world’s biggest idiot! He’s going to kill her!”

Franklin scoffed, reaching for Elly.

“Stop right there, or so help me, I’ll make your black eye the best-looking part of you,” said Elly, her fists at the ready.

“You stop and look at them,” said Franklin, pointing. “He’s just scaring her.” Part of him felt for Elly and wondered if he’d done the right thing, but he knew he was in too deep to change anything.

Tee glanced up at the moving brush and caught a glimpse of Elly’s yellow cloak. Hesitating for a moment, she pulled her hood back.

“It… it is you,” said LeLoup, surprised and disappointed. “You… you look terrible. What happened to you?”

Tee dropped her gaze to the ground. She seemed completely defeated. “Do what you’re going to do, as long as you let my friend live.”

LeLoup rubbed his free hand into his forehead angrily. “This isn’t… this isn’t how it’s supposed to go! You were supposed to fight, and then with the last shot, I would win with the Liar.” He glared at Tee. “Put your hood back up! I can’t stand looking at that face.” He nodded to one of his henchmen. “Ruffo, pick up those sticks.”

Tee raised her hood back up and dropped her hands to her sides quickly, the cloak swallowing them from sight.

“Oh no,” whispered Elly to herself. The guilt in her head pounded as she saw Tee’s shoulders slump and her head bow slightly. “She’s not going to fight back. She’s going to let him kill her.” 

“She’s fine,” said Franklin to Elly, making a grab for her.

Elly bolted out of the brush, screaming, “Tee!”

Tee and Elly instantly locked eyes. Elly saw the wolf that was hiding in Tee’s sheepish appearance.

Without a thought, LeLoup turned and fired repeatedly.

One shot hit soil, one hit a tree, and then blood flew and Elly went spinning in the air, crumbling to the ground in a soundless heap.

Tee screamed like a vengeful god awakened in pain. She flipped over the shock-sticks on the ground, picked them up, and broke one of Ruffo’s ribs as she hit him in the chest, shocking him. She threw the other shock-stick, hitting the remaining henchman squarely in the jaw, dropping him as well.

LeLoup laughed maniacally. “THAT’s the Tee I was looking—” LeLoup leveled the Liar at Tee, and stopped as her brown eyes drilled fear directly into his soul. He took a step back, trying to reaffirm his grip on the Liar as his hands became slick with sweat.

Tee reached into her cloak and pulled out the other two shock-sticks, her predatory eyes locked on LeLoup. She yelled as she ran at him.

LeLoup backed up more and more. He tried firing at Tee, but nothing happened. He was out of bullets.

Franklin ran down and glanced at Elly in horror. Instantly his mind was filled with terrible regret. “This is going all wrong. She’s… she’s going to kill him!” His eyes welling up with tears, he stared at Tee. He remembered seeing how she’d lost control after Pierre’s death, and hearing about what happened in Elly’s house. Running as fast as he could for Tee, Franklin screamed, “Stop! Tee, stop!”

LeLoup pulled back on the Liar’s lever to get the secret, extra bullet, and it jammed. Tee smacked the pistol out of LeLoup’s hands.

“Stop, Tee!” repeated Franklin, only a few yards away and closing fast.

Tee whipped a shock-stick at Franklin, sending him skidding to the ground, flailing about as electricity coursed through his body. She turned her fiery gaze on LeLoup. He was whimpering, clutching his broken hand. She wasn’t anything like he’d remembered or imagined.
Had she been so fierce during our first encounter? Had she been holding back?
he wondered.

Tee walked over and picked up the Liar, pulling back hard on the lever and hearing the click of the bullet finding its home. She pointed it at LeLoup, her head a swirl of noise and rage, with images of Pierre’s death and Elly’s tumble through the air seared in her mind’s eye.

“No!” screamed LeLoup, trying to scramble backward. “Please!” He felt whatever it was that had broken inside him on their first encounter break a little more.

Tears streamed down Tee’s face as she steadied the pistol with her other hand. “You just took everything from me!” she screamed. 

“Tee,” whispered Elly, her voice cutting through everything and grabbing Tee’s attention. Tee whacked LeLoup in the head, and fired the pistol at a tree, before dashing to Elly’s side, repeating her name. 

Elly was face down, curled into a tight ball. Her yellow-hooded cloak was splattered with red and dirt. “It hurts so much, Tee,” whispered Elly.

Tee stuttered as she tried to clear her head. She wanted to scream and cry and yell and laugh, all at the same time. Seeing Elly’s clenched jaw and tightly-closed eyes gave Tee focus. “I—I need to examine your wound. I need to roll you over,” she said, trying to remember the brief medical lessons that her Granddad, Samuel Baker, had once given her. 

“I don’t know if I can do that, Tee,” cried Elly, grabbing Tee’s hand, nearly crushing it.

Tee wiped Elly’s tears with her free hand. “You can do this. We’re going to do this, okay? We still have that no dying rule, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” said Elly, wincing. “The no dying rule.”

Tee surveyed Elly, trying to figure out the optimal movement. “I’m going to help you,” said Tee, placing her hands on Elly. “When you’re ready.”

Elly took a pained breath and steeled herself. “Okay, now.”

Tee carefully rolled Elly over onto her back and straightened out her legs. Elly did her best to suppress her screams. 

Peeling back the yellow cloak, Tee saw that Elly’s blouse was blood-soaked. It was clear the bullet had gone through her left side. Tee stopped herself from touching it. “I’ll be right back,” she said, darting over to her backpack and bringing it to Elly’s side. 

Tee took out the small block of soap from the mobile medical kit she’d taken from the lab, and used the water from her wineskin to wash her hands properly. She then took out the vinegar and rubbed her hands in some. 

“I… I know what to do,” said Tee, her hands trembling as she reached for the blouse. “I can fix this. I’ll save you. Please don’t die, Elly.”

“I should have—” said Elly, sobbing.

Tee shushed her. “Stop. Don’t say that. Whatever it was, don’t say it, okay? Let’s just talk about stupid stuff, okay?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Loose Ends

Simon walked into the library, yawning. The two large cups of black tea that he’d had at breakfast had yet to make their presence known. He wished he could drink something stronger, but his stomach couldn’t handle it.

“Sir,” said Cleeves, greeting Simon at the entrance. “There’s a letter.”

Simon glared at Cleeves, expecting to see it on a silver dish. “Well, where is it?”

Cleeves hesitated. “It’s in your study, sir.” He pointed with an old, crooked finger.

“Why did you put it there?” asked Simon, annoyed. He prepared to march over and retrieve it when Cleeves motioned for him to stop.

“I didn’t, sir. I…” Cleeves pointed at the study’s inner office. “I found it there.”

Simon knew his servant to be many things, but liar or joker wasn’t among them. He looked up at the skylights, then over at the front double doors.

“Were they locked when you got in this morning?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Cleeves. “And I locked them properly when I left last night, as always.”

Simon scanned around, trying to see something out of the ordinary. A chill ran through him as he started to slowly make his way to the office doors.

No one had
ever
breached his library. In addition to the official guards, he had secret guards. Added to that, he had devices and contraptions designed to detain, or even maim, anyone who tried to break in. 

As he turned the corner, he noticed that the ornate white door to the office was halfway ajar. He turned to Cleeves, who put his white-gloved hands up. 

“I didn’t touch it. I closed the doors last night when I left, and locked them. When I came in this morning, it was like that. I was able to just barely get my head through and see that there was a letter on your desk. I then waited for you to arrive.”

Simon sighed and nodded. “You did the right thing, Cleeves. I’ll be back.” 

When Simon reappeared a minute later, he was carrying a long, thin piece of wood. He carefully shoved the thick door open with it. Stepping in, he studied every detail. There was not a single thing he could detect out of place. The only thing different was the letter on his desk, leaning against two books that had been there the day before.

Simon carefully walked around his desk, scrutinizing every detail of the floor. He then started examining the walls and ceiling. Finally, he went in front of the letter and bent down so that he was eye level with it. Even the dust on his desk appeared to have been undisturbed. Seeing his full and proper name spelled out sent a shiver down his spine, as not even Marcus knew it.

Taking a deep breath, he gently removed the letter and broke the blank seal on the back.

“Are you not afraid it’s poisoned, sir?” asked Cleeves nervously, standing at the door.

Simon paused as he was about to remove the letter. “If—” Simon stopped, deciding not to say her name. “If the red-hooded woman or a member of the real Fare wanted me dead, I’d be dead already.”

“If I may, sir, do you suspect that I put the letter there?” asked Cleeves, afraid of Simon’s wrath.

Simon gave him a half-smile. “No. At the end of the day, Cleeves, you are family. Love you or hate you, you’re here because I solemnly believe that ultimately, you have my best interests at heart.”

The old, sickly-looking man stood a bit more proudly. He couldn’t remember getting a compliment from Simon before. It was in that moment that he realized just how scared Simon truly was.

Simon leaned against the front of his desk and read the letter. He straightened up and took a step forward. “They have Abeland and some of his friends in prison, including one of Klaus’ little Yellow Hoods. Apparently, they believe they’ve killed Richelle.” He stopped and held the letter to his chest. “That’s interesting,” he said to himself, thinking of the red-hooded woman. “I doubt it, anyway. That whole family is extremely difficult to kill.”

“Can they truly have become so powerful that they could capture and kill Piemans?” asked Cleeves, closing the door out of fear of being overheard.

Simon turned his gaze to the old man. “I guess they’ve walked in Marcus’ shadow long enough. Now they are ready to strike. I thought it dangerous of them to have me hire LeLoup and send him after Klaus. We were lucky to have survived
that
catastrophe. I’m guessing they are tying things up, making their big moves now. We’re going to need to be extra careful.” Simon moved to the next page of the letter.

As he moved to the final page, Simon’s face flushed and he crumpled the letter after finishing it. He gazed angrily at a spot on the floor. 

Cleeves fidgeted as he waited for the explosion Simon always had after such expressions. “What is it, sir?” he asked, unable to take the burning silence.

Simon yanked his gaze up from the floor and locked it on Cleeves. “They know things, Cleeves. They know things that they shouldn’t know, and are asking too much of me. If there’s one thing I will do before I die, I will get them for this. 

“I’m going to need you to take a letter to Marcus.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The Great Escape

Nikolas, Christophe, and Marcus knew it would be only a matter of time before the King or one of the other Conventioneers noticed that the second batch of King’s-Horses that had been made weren’t the same as the first. Once they’d delivered them, the trio had started planning their escape from the kingdom.

Nikolas clutched Isabella’s hand and reaffirmed his grip on the brown sack containing their meager belongings. He stared at Marcus nervously. “Where’s Christophe?” he asked, squinting in the moonlight. The plan had been for them to meet outside of the eastern castle wall at two in the morning. Nikolas glanced at his pocket watch; Christophe was fifteen minutes late. Christophe had never been late for anything since becoming a Conventioneer.

Marcus held the secret door in the castle wall open, a hooded lantern in his other hand. “You two need to go. I’ll find him and send him out another way.”

“But what about you?” asked Nikolas.

“He’ll be fine,” said Isabella knowingly.