Silent Kingdom (20 page)

Another roar. Another snap of its fangs as it breathed hot air, saliva, and blood onto my neck and stretched to bite into my veins. I drove the dagger deeper, deeper, fighting with all my strength to push the sedwa back far enough to prevent its killing strike. Blood flowed down the dagger hilt, making the blade feel hot and slick in my hand, but still I held on, still I fought.

It heaved out another breath, another snarl. More blood and spittle splattered across my cheek and stung my eye. I blinked, clearing my vision, and the sedwa slumped against me. The glow in its eye faded; its jaw fell slack.

Slowly, painfully, I dragged myself out from the creature’s crushing weight and tumbled out into fresh snow. I welcomed its cold, cleansing power, letting it wash away some of the black blood staining my cloak and dress and coating my skin. The sedwa lay sprawled before me, a gruesome mixture of reptile and mammal, lethal power and stealth.

Panting, I sank onto my back, using the snow as a cushion as I stared up at the sky. It looked greyer, brighter.

Then I heard the soft twitter of first one bird, and then another. They chattered to each other from the trees circling me until the sound grew into all-out song.

My tense muscles unknotted themselves. I drew a deep breath and felt my heart slow.

I had survived the night.

CHAPTER 12

A
t last I stood and reentered my tent. After packing up my belongings, I nibbled on a few pieces of jerky and some dried fruit and set off toward Misroth City. Toward my old home and whatever awaited me there.

Without the darkness surrounding me, the woods were not as ominous. Squirrels raced each other through the trees and reminded me that in the daylight, all was safe. If my uneasy heart truly felt any peace in those hours, it was lighter then.

The day grew colder and clouds began to gather. By the time I stumbled toward the capital late that afternoon, snowflakes were brushing past my cheeks and adding to the piles of snow around me. Pausing, I stared at the great ramparts encircling the city, the gradual incline of streets and grey stone buildings stretching toward the sky, toward the cliff with the castle perched on its crest, rising against the backdrop of sky and distant sea.

I was sick of the blackness shrouding this land, of the shadows that had plagued it for years. I wanted to run from this accursed city and never look back. But I wouldn’t abandon my people again.

I braced myself, ensuring I was prepared. If anyone were to recognize me, it would be because my features so closely resembled those of my mother, so I pulled my hood low over my eyes and held my head high. I would walk gracefully, bravely; I would not slink into the city I had been raised in, the capital of my kingdom. Even if he could not see me now, I would not give my father that power over me.

The wrought iron gates were flung open wide for midday traffic flowing in from a broad dirt path bordering the winding, bubbling Emrell and tracing its way through the countryside. It was easy to join the crowd on the path and blend in.

Guards stood at attention on either side of the gates while others peered down from the ramparts, all dressed in Misroth’s royal colors with Vehgar across their chests and all armed with heavy bows across their backs and swords at their sides. Misroth’s colors flashed with resplendent light from banners lifted high over the ramparts, flags all fluttering and snapping in the breeze. Pushing my way through the crowds, I stepped through the gates and entered the capital.

Ahead, the stone buildings lining the cobblestone streets seemed even taller than I remembered them; the streets seemed noisier and fuller of smoke curling from the chimneys and hanging in the air over the city like a persistent cloud. And there were people—people everywhere. Even when I’d lived in the city, I had rarely been permitted to venture out into the streets, and then only with escorts. I never had the opportunity to view the capital as citizens did.

Now, everywhere I looked there were people traveling to the capital from the surrounding countryside, some on horseback or in wagons, and some on foot. There were farmers in coarse, worn clothes and merchants in finer attire. There were women and families out for a stroll or shopping, carrying bundles and bags in their arms. Brightly painted and intricately carved carriages pulled by teams of horses with braided manes and tails rumbled by, usually with the windows tightly closed but occasionally with a finely dressed nobleman or lady peering out at the crowds. Various guards stood tall and motionless at their posts along street corners, carefully assessing the crowds or patrolling their rounds, walking the streets in careful patterns at regular intervals.

All along the way, even in the cold, vendors with wagons full of wares called out to the passerby, while shops full of enticing jewelry, clothing, or furniture tempted with their elaborate window displays. The scent of fresh bread and roasting meat from nearby inns and butchers and bakeries floated through the air, making my stomach growl in hunger even when the aroma mixed with the foul stench of horse manure lining the streets. Somewhere in the distance I could hear a blacksmith pounding a piece of metal into shape, while closer at hand the bells atop a city sanctuary chimed out, signaling that it was now the seventeenth hour of the day.

I squinted against the falling snow to see the cliff towering over the city. There, sprawled atop the jagged rocks, sat the king’s castle, a dark stain against a blinding white sky. While I wound my way through the bustling city, the streets all rising in a gentle ascent that pulled everyone upward toward the cliff, the castle seemed to always be in front of me, taunting me with its presence.

My heart beat out a steady rhythm, matching the pace of my strides, but I swept the doubts and fear to the back of my mind. First, I had to find the rebels, and then everything else would fall into place.
How do I find Marke’s shop?

Lost in thought, I collided with a man and stumbled back. “Sorry,” I muttered.

The man eyed me with a frown. “Watch where you’re going, girl.” He ran a hand through his grey beard and stepped around me.

“Wait…could you point me in the direction of Marke’s shop?”

He grunted. “I don’t know what you’re speaking of.” Without another word, he shuffled off, leaving me alone and frustrated amidst the crowds.

Setting my jaw, I pulled my hood low and began asking every citizen I passed. After dozens of suspicious glances toward my concealed face and negative responses, a middle-aged woman pointed me in the right direction.

I thanked her and hurried down the main street, turning at the next corner. Marke’s shop was a small brick building tucked between two larger stores. It looked like it had been there for a long while, perhaps generations. A weatherworn sign, labeled simply
Marke’s,
hung over the doorway, and lace curtains hung in a second story window, reminding me that the family lived above their shop. Stepping inside, my eyes skimmed over the grocery’s shelves, lined with countless goods—great bags of flour and sugar and salt, coils of rope, collections of tools, pots and pans, measuring cups, boxes of matches, and much more than my eyes could take in all at once—and toward the table in the back. Behind it stood a woman somewhere in her early twenties, with golden brown skin, a strong jaw, and frizzy curls pulled into a knot at the back of her head.

Her brown eyes lit with curiosity when she took in my bedraggled appearance.

“Good evening. Is there anything I can help you find?”

I shuffled my feet and debated how to phrase my request. If only there had been time to consult Marke before I left Evren, to learn more about the rebellion and how to gain trust so I could join their cause. I approached the table slowly and glanced around, but there was no one else in the shop to overhear.

“Can I—could I speak with someone? I have news of Marke.” The words sounded clumsy rolling off my tongue.
My words are definitely a gift
, I thought wryly.

The woman squinted in suspicion. “Who are you?”

“A friend of Marke’s.” I stood up straighter, trying to make myself appear tall and important, rather than like the scared girl I probably appeared to be. I took a risk and dared to push back my hood, letting the light fall on my face.

She shifted and ran a hand through her hair, but no light of recognition flashed in her eyes, no furrow of her brow to indicate she had any idea who I was. “Marke has many friends,” she said vaguely.

I met her stare without wavering and forced my voice to remain even, calm. “I’m from Evren. Marke traveled to my village not long ago.”

The woman’s eyes went wide. “Is he safe? Why hasn’t he returned? Why are you here…?”

“He was attacked by one of the sedwa in Evren Forest. He is recovering, but it’s too soon for him to make the journey home.”

The woman—I assumed Marke’s wife—looked pale. “He will be all right?”

I nodded.

After I had satisfied her further inquiries after Marke, she finally offered me a timid smile and reached out to clasp my hand. “My name is Jennah, Marke’s wife. And you are…?”

I hesitated. “A friend. I go by Elena. I wanted to share my news of Marke and…” I scanned the shop, ensuring there were no other patrons inside. Lowering my voice, I added, “And offer my help to the rebels. Marke told me about your meetings.”

Jennah’s face scrunched in surprise. Then she set a finger to her lips and shook her head. “Not here. Come with me.”

She motioned for me to step around the table and led me to the back room. I waded through piles of crates full of wares, some open and in the process of being unpacked and others untouched.

She turned to me. “Marke asked you to join the rebellion?”

I shuffled my feet. “No…but he told me about it. I thought—I wanted…” Uncomfortable, I bit my lip. “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to prove myself to you.” I lifted my chin and met her gaze unflinchingly.

A light sparked in her eyes and a gentle smile quirked her lips. “If Marke trusts you, I trust you,” she murmured.

I tried to mask my surprise. Could it really be that easy? Jennah already believed me?

I shoved my thoughts away as Jennah opened another door, paused to remove and light a candle from a nearby shelf, and swept down a narrow flight of stairs. Cautiously, I followed her, the steps creaking beneath my feet. The steps led to a cramped cellar, its space mostly filled with a square, roughly hewn table and several chairs clustered about it.

She gestured to it. “Once the shop closes, this is where we meet. We don’t have much and our numbers are few, but we do what we can and believe that any defiance against the king must count for something.” Jennah glanced back at the staircase. “I’ll need to return to the shop. We will be closing soon. Once I’m able to lock up, we’ll have dinner and you can tell me more. The others will arrive tonight for a meeting.”

Following her back upstairs, I watched Jennah straighten shelves, sweep the floor, and glance at the clock resting at her table in the back. No other shoppers arrived in those last few minutes, a fact that seemed to leave Jennah more at ease.

“I always prefer quiet evenings before our meetings,” she said as she locked the door.

I followed her upstairs to the family living quarters, where we entered a small, warm kitchen with a pot bubbling over the hearth. An older woman was stooping over it, her dark hair streaked with silver and hanging in humid ringlets about her face. She glanced up at us as she entered, beaming at Jennah and then pausing in surprise when she saw me.

“This is Elena; she will be our guest tonight, Mother,” Jennah explained. “Elena, this is my mother, Kam.”

“She looks exhausted!” Kam exclaimed. “Supper is ready, so we will eat soon. Elena, you must be starving.”

My stomach reacted to the smell of food instantly and I remembered how little I’d eaten all day.

Kam looked pointedly at her daughter. “The girls are ready, so hurry and wash up.”

Jennah blinked and then turned to me. “Right. We will clean up. Come with me. You can have the girls’ room, and they will stay with me tonight.”

After Jennah showed me to the bedroom, she left me to settle in and rest my belongings beside the bed, and returned with a basin of fresh water, soap, and a cloth. “I’m sorry it isn’t a full bath; I will draw you one after dinner.”

I stepped to the table where the basin waited and studied my face in the mirror on the wall. My hair fell past my shoulders in disheveled waves and a layer of grime had collected on my face. It was a relief to scrub my hands and face clean and run my comb through the tangles in my hair.

When I was finished, I paused, caught off guard once again by my reflection. As I had many times in my youth, I could see my mother’s face gazing back at me. I’d seen both of my parents’ features in mine before, but tonight they seemed all the more obvious. My mother’s eyes flashed beneath my brows; her dark hair, the same shade as chocolate shipped from Teramyl, swept past my shoulders.

A familiar ache reverberated in my heart until it felt numb. Setting my jaw, I pulled my hair back and tied it tightly with a ribbon.
I will not be like her. I won’t be like either of them.
There was firmness in the line of my jaw, even if it resembled my father’s, and a steely ferocity in my eyes to match his intensity. Where my mother had been weak, I vowed to be strong. Though my father had betrayed and deceived many, I would try to undo his evils.

Stepping out of the bedroom, I joined Kam, Jennah, and two small girls for dinner.

As I sat down, Jennah gestured to the girls. “Elena, these are my daughters, Laydin and Avalee. Girls, Elena is our guest tonight.”

The oldest girl was about five years old with curly hair like her mother’s and bright, curious eyes. She stared at me, and at first I supposed it was because my quick face wash hadn’t removed all the grime from traveling. Then she spoke. “Mama said you saw my Papa. Do you have news about him?” she asked.

“Laydin,” Jennah said softly. “She must be hungry. Let her eat first.”

She passed a plate of salmon to me while Kam sliced bread and cheese. It felt good to eat a hot meal after two days of chewing crusty bread, dried venison, and fruit.

After we all had a few minutes to eat, Jennah turned to me. “Why did you come to the capital? Certainly you didn’t travel all this way only to deliver news about Marke.”

I hesitated, poking my fish with my fork before I lifted my eyes to hers. “I came to join your cause.”

“But when will Papa be home?” Avalee, whom I guessed to be three, turned pleading eyes toward me.

“I cannot say. But I know our healer in Evren will ensure your father is fully recovered before he travels again.”

Jennah studied me curiously. “Surely you didn’t come all the way from Evren and its safety to concern yourself with our troubles here.”

I chewed my bread slowly, thoughtfully. At last, I swallowed. “The capital’s troubles are everyone’s troubles. Besides, a sedwa attacked Marke. I believe the tales are true: the king has found men to disturb the sedwa and threaten Evren’s safety. My people are in danger.”

Jennah nodded slowly. “You speak with conviction, which comforts me. What about your family? Don’t you have anyone who misses you back home, who would balk at the risks you are taking?”

Drawing a deep breath, I said, “I…I have no blood relatives in Evren. Some may miss me, but it’s worth it to keep the people of Evren safe.”