The Last Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (6 page)

Emmeline laced her boots and
scurried through the door without making a sound. She paused in the corridor and gave herself a calming moment. Two guards stood at attention with the errand boy blinking sleep from his eyes. She had expected as much, but the guards several paces away on either side of the corridor surprised her. With four more on duty, the number of guards had tripled since her arrival.

She slipped back into her room.
How was she going to get past six guards? Two guards seemed possible considering the hour, but six?

Adelia hummed a
sweet melody while she was absorbed in the task of drawing a perfect bath. Her song ended with a lowering cadence and Emmeline knew she had only moments before the chance for temporary freedom would be lost. A creature of habit, Adelia always ceased humming when the bath water was near perfection. She would then pour salts into the hot water and watch them dissolve before she let Emmeline sink below its soothing surface.

Determined to find a way outside,
Emmeline propelled herself into the hall once again. With her head held high, she marched in the direction that might lead her to the gardens, hoping the guards would mistake her confidence for permission to leave the palace. The memory of fresh lilac and honeysuckle entered her mind, bringing with it a longing for home. She pushed the thought aside and hurried her steps. But as soon as she passed the last guard he stepped into the hall behind her, his heavy boots hitting the rug with a muffled thump. She turned on her heal to face him. Her eyes grew at the sight of all six guards waiting behind her.

“You
do not need to escort me today,” Emmeline said with confidence. “I give you my leave.”

Silence.

She turned and walked down the hall, rounding a corner. The guards stalked her from behind. Frustrated, Emmeline faced them again.

“I
have permission to go where ever I please. I have no need of you.”

Silence.

Again she turned and walked the length of the corridor and again the guards shadowed her every step.

Exasperated, Emmeline flipped around and eyed each of the guards.
None of them matched her gaze, of course, but the sweat on their brow told her they still feared her.

A sly smile stole across Emmeline’s face
. Curious, she raised her palms.

Several
of them broke formation and stumbled back.

“Let me be
,” she said. She hated toying with their fears, but knowing it could be her only chance to get rid of them, she stood firm. It didn’t matter that she was clueless as long as they believed she knew what she was doing. Somehow she knew nothing would happen, that she wouldn’t hurt them no matter what she did. The energy around her felt flat, dead, so unlike the energy at the cliffs.

The foremost guard brought his chin up, his eyes trained on her hands.
“You have no power here, Your Highness.”

Emmeline held her hands up higher
. How did they know the energy felt different? Not wanting her yearning for answers to expose her, she spoke with an edge. “What do you know of my power?”

The guard sniffed for courage. “Your power is contained her
e, Your Highness.”

Emmeline dropped her hands, the illusion of power gone.
“What do you mean contained?”

The guard remained
silent.

“Suit yourself. I plan on having an uneventful day at a mind numbing pace.”

Silence.

She turned a
way and stomped down the corridor. The guards beat a steady rhythm behind her, each pounding step echoing down the corridor and slapping her back in the face. They seemed to know so much more about her than she did and it made her want to scream and cry and pound on their chests until they told her everything they knew. Weeks had gone by and while she had been able to accept who she was, no one was willing to explain to her what that meant. All she was ever met with was silence. Silence and the cold stone of oppressive walls.

After an hour
of wandering, Emmeline discovered a stair tower stood at the end of a corridor and a plan to ditch the guards formulated in her mind. Quickening her step, she slipped into a room at the opposite end, knowing it would have another door leading to an adjoining corridor. She ducked behind the first door and hoped the guards would believe she had continued on through the other. She pulled the handle toward her and pressed the door against her body.

Thump. Thump.
Thump.
The steady rhythm of the guard’s boots never faltered. As they neared the room the click of their metal heels grew louder. Without a word, they clicked and thumped passed the door she hid behind, through the room and out into the adjoining corridor.

T
he rhythm stopped.

“Where did she go?”

“She was right in front of us.”

“Check all the rooms down this corridor! She must be in one of them.”

All sense of uniformity was lost as they searched from room to room, doors banging open and slamming shut. Only one guarded remained, his breathing heavy as he waited for his comrades to return.

Emmeline
allowed herself only the shallowest of breaths. Unable to stop her hands from trembling, she folded them under her arms. Her elbow grazed the door and she froze, hoping the remaining guard hadn’t noticed.

He
entered the room and paced to the center before marching to the door she hid behind. He stopped, the sharp scent of his cologne seeping through the cracks, under the door and directly into Emmeline’s nose. It tickled. Fearing she would sneeze, Emmeline stopped breathing altogether. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, a relentless drum so loud she was sure the guard could hear it.

For
what seemed like an eternity of silence, Emmeline waited for him to leave. Her lungs screamed for air. If she took a breath, it would swoosh in with such force that she was certain he would discover her. Her vision began blurring in the corners. Her head felt light, her chest heavy. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold her breath.

The guard
took a step closer to the door.

Another set of thumping closed in and stopped at the door.
“She isn’t in any of these rooms,” said a voice thick with anxiety. “She must have entered another corridor.

“Search them all,” the guard nearest her barked. “Move!”

The thumping grew louder and then faded as they both rounded the corner. Letting her body relax, Emmeline released her breath and sucked in as much air as her lungs would hold. A simple breath of air had never tasted so sweet! Every part of her body tickled with anticipation. She would soon feel the sun warming her back, the wind combing through her hair, and the woodsy scents filling her nostrils.

Slipping from behind the door, she leaned against the frame and eyed the stair tower at the end of the corridor. If she rushed, she might make it. Gathering her skirts, she rose to the balls of her feet and raced down the long corridor
and into the stair tower. She raced down the marble steps, the click of her boots echoing to the top and back. Her hand brushed along the stone wall, her breath quickening as she descended. She feared that at any moment the guards would burst into the stairwell and see her scrambling to the bottom. Just when her heart was on the verge of bursting from her chest she crashed into the door at the bottom of the stairwell. She pulled on the heavy door and slipped through, easing the door shut as she took hold of her bearings.

A long corridor stretched
out in front of her, a few servants scuttling in and out of a room that branched from the center. They carried dishes and serving bowls on their hips, the women chattering amongst themselves, the men hefting heavier objects as they followed behind. Fortunately none of them glanced her way.

Emmeline waited for them to pass, and then inched her way forward, grateful the kitchen clatter masked the sound of her shoes on the marble floor
.

“Fetch me a bag of barley,” someone called from the kitchen.

“Right away,” another said.

Emmeline dashed down the long corridor, through an arched opening to her right and tugged on the only door in sight. Twice her height, the dark mahogany reminded her of the doors she entered on the day of her arrival. If she was right, they would lead her to the back of the palace. She smiled.

The latch lifted but the door wouldn’t budge. Emmeline pulled her weight back in a quick jerk and still it wouldn’t budge. She pulled back again and it finally gave way. A tiny sliver of light made its way around the edge of the door, taunting her.

The kitchen clatter was no longer the d
ominating noise in the corridor as the clamoring of heavy boots crashed down the stairs, drowning out all but the thrumming of Emmeline’s heart.

Emmeli
ne tugged with renewed strength, her eyes squeezing shut with exertion. The guards had reached the kitchen. She opened her eyes, pleased to find the door had opened just enough for her to squeeze through. Slipping outside, she pulled the door shut.

Emmeline lifted her chest and took a deep breath. The cool, sharp air stung her throat, making her feel alive. She inhaled, enjoying every scent that came with it. Pine and morning dew, honeysuckle and lemon. Every fragrance melted into a harmonious concert.

She darted
toward the garden and slowed to a stroll once she reached the graveled paths out of sight from the palace doors. Bending to caress the plants and flowers, she wove through sculpted shrubs and well-kept flower beds. Marble urns with trailing vines squatted next to iron benches, inviting those willing to linger and enjoy the garden. The sun warmed her skin and her tense muscles relaxed.

The path split off in many directions
, but Emmeline didn’t pay attention to which path she followed. Her mind wandered to her father, as it often did. Was he safe? Was he happy? Would she ever see him again?

She pushed away those thoughts.
Of course she would see him again. There was no reason to let such things bring her down. Her stolen time in the sun wouldn’t last forever and she wanted to enjoy every precious moment she could gain, every moment without someone watching her or attending to her every need.

Someone
called out for her and Emmeline crouched behind a shrub. How had they found her so quickly? The shouting grew nearer and Emmeline recognized Adelia’s sing-song voice. Her shoulders dropped, her heart sinking.

Emmeline
slunk toward an iron bench, hoping to squeeze a few extra moments in before Adelia found her. She would no doubt be dragged back inside, her precious time in the open air cut much shorter than she had anticipated, much shorter than she needed.

Emmeline stopped just
short of the bench, staring at the empty seat. The thought of sitting in its cold embrace and waiting for capture filled her mouth with a foul taste. Why should she let them find her so easily? Why couldn’t she spend a few hours under the sun? She was to be their princess, not their prisoner! Unwilling to give up her freedom, Emmeline turned from the bench, lifted her skirts and darted off the path.

The
trees became less manicured as she ran, the bushes less square. They appeared more round and natural before giving way to the forest’s natural shrubbery. Emmeline slowed, straining to listen for Adelia over her labored breathing. A breeze blew through the trees, flirting with leaves, but she heard nothing more.

Emmeline came to a
stop and glanced around a small clearing. Long grass and wild flowers blanketed the earth. Nestled in the center of the clearing was a bench large enough for two. It seemed out of place, given how far she had run from the palace, and yet it somehow suited the picturesque scene.  Her chest heaved less and less the longer she stood.

She
ambled to the bench and sat, the sun drenched iron welcoming her into its warm embrace. Breathing in through her nose and closing her eyes, she relaxed into the tranquility of the clearing. No one would find her so far from the palace. The guards couldn’t follow her, Mahlon couldn’t bother her, and Adelia couldn’t bustle around and chatter. She was finally alone!

The thought m
ade her laugh out loud. She had spent most of her life pining for the company of others and as soon as she found it, she was running the other direction. It was ridiculous, she realized, but she couldn’t help what she felt. She never imagined meeting new people would be so difficult. Every conversation with Adelia was filled with tension and Mahlon was impossible to be civil with. Not to mention the mute guards and frightened messenger boy. She laughed again but it came out as a sob and before she knew it her hands were covering her face and her shoulders were shaking.

A
throat cleared from somewhere nearby and Emmeline caught her breath. Dropping her hands she raised her head and looked up into the eyes of a young man not much older than her. His eyes opened wide as he stared at her. Not at her hands, not at her feet, but right into her eyes.