Stitching Snow (28 page)

R.C. ll E WI S

there and listen to him anymore. I stood, thinking I’d get some sleep on one of the bunks at the rear of the transport.

“There’s something
you
don’t get, Dane,” I said. “I’m just a pawn in this. Sometimes a pawn can set things in motion, but they rarely make it to the endgame. Not with the power we’re up against.”

After I slept, I took a turn keeping an eye on things so Dane could rest. When he woke up, we went back to not talking. The closer we got to the Royal City, the tighter I gripped my knees, my nails digging into them.

“We have a problem,” I said. “I wasn’t exaggerating before.

I can’t be near my father and pretend I don’t know what he’s doing. Not after that. Not after seeing those men. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t order the attack. He’s ordered others. How can I be in the same room and not tear him apart?”

“The same way I’ve managed to be on this planet without anyone fi nding out what I am. You’re going to take that anger and use it to fool everyone. You’re going to make your father think you hate the Exiles just as much as he does, and you’re going to fi nd a way to turn that against him.” It made sense, turning my anger that way. But I knew it would be the hardest thing I’d ever done.

The Exiles did this. The Exiles killed Theo. The Exiles blew that
man apart right in front of me.
Over and over, I repeated it to myself, asking what the next step would be if it were true.

Guiding the transport into the city with an escort of armed skimmers, I saw the soldiers in the infi rmary. Walking from 267

S T I T C H I N G S N O W

the transport into the palace with a phalanx of Golden Sword guards surrounding me, I saw the man who had simply disappeared, his eyes in the moment before he was gone. Entering the throne room to face my father and Olivia, I saw Theo, blushing as he remembered my mother.

Father looked both relieved and furious upon seeing me.

Olivia just looked furious. I wondered what lie she’d told him to make the attack a mistake. A botched set of orders. The wrong coordinates. A rogue lieutenant acting on his own.

I didn’t care. I could guarantee I was more furious than both of them together. Father approached, arms out to embrace me.

No way could I take that without trying to rip his throat out, so I cut him off, letting the fi re flly through my voice.

“Where are the prisoners?”

As hoped, that stopped him. “What?”

“The captain at Saddlewood told me how this started, how the Exiles took advantage of my kidnapping to launch this war. You stopped the fi rst attack and took prisoners from their embassy. I want to know where they are.” Father’s expression shifted again. “Snowfl ake, you don’t need to worry. Those prisoners are secure. They won’t be able to hurt you.”

“I don’t doubt that, but if I’m to lead this world someday, I need to face our enemies. I want to look in their eyes and assure them they will
never
see freedom while I live, that their people will not frighten me into a corner. I want to see their faces as I snatch any shred of hope they have left in them.” I hated every word as it left my mouth, but pride glowed in Father’s face. Pride that someday I’d be exactly the kind of ruler 268

R.C. ll E WI S

he was. The expression brought back the roiling nausea. “If that is what you wish, Daughter, you shall have it.”

“I will see to it,” Olivia said. “My guards do watch the prison, after all.”

That was a problem—her fi rst two attacks hadn’t worked out, and I knew she’d try harder this time—but I refused to let her see my fear.

“Make it soon,” I snapped, turning to leave before she could respond.

The servants read my mood, practically diving out of the way as I stalked to the residential wing. As soon as we were in the suite, the mask fell, and I began to hyperventilate.

“Essie breathe Essie.”

For the fi rst time in my life, I couldn’t tell the drone to shut it.

“Essie, slow down,” Dane said, taking hold of my shoulders.

I jerked away. Hurt fll ashed across Dane’s eyes, but it had just been a refl ex. “I’m sorry, I just—What I said, I didn’t even think. If the prison’s guarded by the Midnight Blade, and you won’t be with me—”

“Wait, what?” he cut in. “Of course I’ll be with you.”

“You can’t be, Dane. Even if one of the prisoners weren’t your father, someone will recognize you.”

“They’ll see I’m with you. They won’t give me away.”

“
You
will give you away. Seeing them and your father, how can you—”

“Let me worry about that. I’m not letting you go alone.

Besides, if I didn’t go, the queen would be suspicious.” That was true, but every cell in my body rebelled against the idea. The fear coalesced to something I could identify.

“Olivia’s too determined to kill me—you’ve seen what she 269

S T I T C H I N G S N O W

can do,” I said. “All I’m doing is buying time. And if my father fi nds out what I’m doing, he’ll kill me himself. But they
can’t
kill you, Dane. They just can’t. You have to see it through. You have to fi nish what my mother started. Promise me.” He hesitated before putting a hand to my cheek. This time I let him, even though the warmth of his skin only added to the burning terror in my heart. “I can’t promise that, Essie. I can’t, because if they’re going to kill you, they’ll have to kill me fi rst.” The terror bubbled into panic. “Then what good is any of this? What if we both die before accomplishing anything and your people can’t get through the defenses? We fail. My father wins, and nothing changes.”

“It’s simple. We won’t fail.
If
they kill us, we make sure it’s after we’ve done too much damage to reverse, and Kip will see it through. But I have no intention of letting that happen. So here’s what I’ll promise: I promise your father won’t win.” He was so confi dent. Maybe confi dent enough for both of us.

I lingered in his touch one more moment before turning away.

“Tell me when Olivia sends word about the arrangements.”

“Are you going to get some rest?” Dane asked.

“No, I’m going to contact Theo’s family.” I didn’t know whether it would help, getting a message from the princess-to-the-crown, telling them how sorry I was about his death. But it was all I could offer.

Life was so much easier back when I was selfi sh.

Before we left for the prison, I told Dimwit to move on the plan to bumble into Olivia’s wardrobe and spray down everything 270

R.C. ll E WI S

with thederol. It would be better if he made the attempt while I wasn’t around. Of course, if I didn’t come back from the prison, it wouldn’t matter if he got the thederol on Olivia’s things or not. In that case, I hoped Dimwit would be sharp enough to just wander away before someone decided to scrap him.

Father came to see us off, stating Olivia was otherwise occupied. Just as well. The two Midnight Blade guards who would be accompanying us made me uneasy enough.

“You do what you said, Snow,” Father said. “Face the enemy, show them you aren’t afraid, that they’ll never defeat us.”

“What about the Exiles’ body-hopping?” I asked. “Do I need to guard myself against it somehow, to keep them from turning me into their puppet?”

“We’ve already accounted for that. You have nothing to fear.” I couldn’t imagine what that meant, and the words brought anything but relief. The only way to keep
me
from Transitioning was to make sure I didn’t touch anyone, but I knew that wouldn’t stop a full Candaran.

The journey to the prison was much shorter than the last, but felt longer. I didn’t bother asking the guards’ names. They didn’t look like types I wanted to get to know.

We traveled out of the city, across the border to the next province, and wound into a canyon cutting through the Ridgecrest Mountains. Deeper and deeper, dipping into a side canyon with barely enough space for the transport in some places. Finally we stopped in front of a building butting up against the rock face.

Building
was an overstatement, though. It was hardly bigger than my shack on Thanda, nowhere near large enough for any kind of prison. Dane and I followed the other two men inside.

It wasn’t the prison. It was the guard station. The guards 271

S T I T C H I N G S N O W

who’d brought us just nodded at those on duty. They knew to expect us. A tunnel had been cut into the mountain through a heavy door at the rear of the guard station.

It turned out my father’s love of the traditional—to the point of archaic—had gone too far.

He didn’t have a prison. He had a dungeon.

I’d never been in the actual mine on Thanda, but it had to feel very similar. Dark and cold and damp, moisture gathering on every surface. A mingled stench of mold and fi lth set off an urge to gag—the Station back on Thanda was the royal rose garden by comparison. The only light came from fll ickering sconces spaced along the wall. Dane followed so close, I could hear a slight raggedness in his breath, but he stayed in control.

The fi rst cell came on our right. No door. No barrier of any kind. Just a cave with a stone ledge covered in threadbare blankets, a corroded toilet, a stone basin with water trickling in continuously . . . and a woman with a heavy chain manacled to one leg.

At least, I was pretty sure it was a woman. She huddled on the ledge, wearing little more than rags, her long straggly hair obscuring her face.

“This is the most arrogant of them,” one of the guards said.

“It can’t even be beaten out of her.” His words made her look up. There was still life in her eyes as she glared at the guard, then an extra spark as she glanced at me. Before I could come up with a response to the guard’s declaration, the light fll ickered brighter, and I saw.

Scars across her throat.

They took her voice.

It didn’t make sense. She didn’t need her voice to Transition.

272

R.C. ll E WI S

Even for Dane, Transitioning took
some
effort, so in her physical state, I doubted this woman could muster the strength to do it anyway. Now I understood what my father meant. Olivia knew how to stay invulnerable to Tipping; she would’ve told her guards in the early years. Then the willful neglect had taken away any threat left in the Candarans. So what was the point of the mutilation?

Faint noises of moving chains in other cells triggered the answer. Without voices, the only way the prisoners could communicate or even know the others were still alive was to Transition to each other. And they were too weak.

They were alone.

Keep the face on, Essie. Keep up the act. Twitch out later.

I took the cold of the cave and put it into my voice, never taking my eyes off the woman. “Leave us. Perhaps I can get through to her.”

Maybe they thought I would beat her. Maybe my royal authority was enough for them. Whatever it was, the guards left. I waited until I heard the heavy door close at the head of the tunnel, but even then I didn’t drop the act, and I didn’t let Dane move. An image recorder was bolted into the rock face, taking in the entire cell. I’d expected that, though. I had one hand in my pocket and fll ipped a switch on a tiny signal emitter I’d stitched. It wouldn’t block the recorders, but it would interfere with any microphones. No one would hear as long as I kept my voice down.

I strode across the cell and grabbed her chin, putting my face right in hers. I hoped it looked intimidating on the guards’

display. For her part, the woman looked like she wasn’t sure what to think.

273

S T I T C H I N G S N O W

“Do you know who I am?” I whispered. “Do you know who my mother was?”

She nodded, now glancing back and forth between me and Dane, who hovered protectively next to me.

“Then you know I’m not part of this. We’ll try to get you out, but it might take a little while longer.” Her eyes kept lingering on Dane’s, then darting back to me. “You know him, too. His father?”

“Darrak,” she whispered, barely. With the damage to her vocal cords, I had to lean closer and watch her lips to understand.

“Where is he?” Dane pressed. “Which cell is he in?” She shivered, and her eyes glistened with tears. The chill in the air cut even deeper.

“He’s not. He’s dead.”

274

25

“HOW?”

Dane’s question was more rasp than whisper.

“Infection. Seven years ago. When we still had the strength to Transition to each other. His last thoughts were of you and your mother.”

He stood so close, his arm against my shoulder, that I felt his reaction. A microscopic hint of physical collapse before he regained his posture. He’d stopped breathing.

So had I.
Too late, too late, too late.
Seven years too late. Dead before I’d even left the Bands, when I still jumped at every approaching shadow. Dead before I knew how to fi ght. Dead before Dane and I had any blazing chance of doing anything about it.

There were others, though. I couldn’t fall apart now, and I couldn’t let Dane, either. I gripped the woman’s chin more tightly, like she wasn’t giving me what I wanted.

“How many others are still alive?”

S T I T C H I N G S N O W

“Not sure. I—I see them carry out the bodies sometimes.

Ten? Maybe more.”

“Can you hold on a little longer?”

“No,” Dane cut in. “We can’t leave them here. We have to get them out now.”

I was afraid he’d say something like that. I gave the woman a little shake, hoping it still looked right. “Did you bring an army in your pocket, Dane?”

“There are only fi ve of them.”

“You think we can take out all fi ve before anyone alerts the palace? And then what?”

Before Dane could continue arguing, the woman cut in.

“Kadei, you mustn’t endanger yourselves. We can wait. Princess, please, be careful. The queen’s guards, they talk. They’ll do anything to keep her in power, even go against the king, but you can’t trust him, either.”

Nothing I didn’t know. After one more shove, I backed away, letting the disgust I felt for the guards show on my face as I looked at her. I didn’t say another word, just stalked out into the tunnel and checked the remaining cells. More than twenty, fewer than half of them occupied. None of the other prisoners looked up when I entered and crossed over to them. Not until I whispered in their ears, “Soon.” Then they met my eyes and saw that it was a promise rather than a threat.