A piercing, familiar wail yawps overhead.
And inspiration strikes.
“Come on,” he grits out, and bolts for the plaza. He only pauses to knock over every rubbish bin he sees. Each time, he’s rewarded with more mewling shrieks.
They reach the plaza and its shops and stalls. Another fun fact Eugene stows for later: It’s the same plaza he saw yesterday, the one near Herbert & Fitz.
A bakery looms to his left. Eugene finds its rubbish bin, tears off the lid, and heaves its contents directly at their two pursuers.
Unsellable bread rains down around them in a shower of burnt loaves, stale breadsticks, and mold-spotted rolls.
And the flock of seagulls he’s been accumulating descends in a screeching chorus.
“HA,”belts someone nearby—no, not just someone,Cressien—as the People’s Dagger lackeys are engulfed in a veritable hurricane of wings and open, snapping beaks.
Eugene pulls him around a stall, then down a street, and finally bears back toward Third Street Hospital. Once he sees the edge of a carriage at the corner, he flops against the wall out of sight. “Better catch our breath first.”
“Agreed.” Cressien mops his damp brow. Astera’s still cooler than they’re used to, but Eugene doubts the life of a high-level bureaucrat involves a lot of running. After a moment, Cressien asks, “Why didn’t you try to find guards?”
“Not typically my gut instinct,” Eugene points out. “But also…they answer to Enver. And if we had to explain why we were being chased, it’d lead them right to the People’s Dagger. I don’t trust the Dagger, but I’m not getting a great feeling about the king right now either.”
“What makes you say that?”
Eugene’s stomach twists…but whether or not Cressien agrees with his reasoning, he’s still the son of rebels, so there’s precious little approval to lose anyway. “Even if we don’t buy what the Dagger said about him, he nearly put me in a dungeon last night just for looking like my parents. He took away the council’s ability to refuse him. He banned a book that—that—” Eugene’s voice hitches, and he flushes, but pushes on. “Whether or not my parents really wrote it, I readTales of Flynnigan Ridera thousand times, sometimes for the other kidsand sometimes for myself. And it’s just about a man who goes on adventures, falls in love, sees the world—everything a kid could dream of. I don’t know why he thinks that’s dangerous.”
Eugene half expects Cressien to scoff. Instead, the minister nods, sober as a judge. “Astera was always reclusive, but they still let their people visit other nations until about fifty years ago. Perhaps the danger was in letting children dream of leaving.” Cressien rubs the bridge of his nose. “There’s something else…but I believe we should continue this conversation with Princess Rapunzel.”
“Good idea.” Eugene peers down to the carriage. It looks like it’s the only one still there, so he’s guessing Rapunzel and Verette already returned to the palace. “If anyone asks, we got lost.”
A minute later, Hughes is regarding the two of them with unbridled doubt. “You got…lost,” the chamberlain repeats. “And nothing else occurred?”
“Nope,” Eugene lies cheerfully. “Terrible sense of direction, that’s all.”
Before Hughes can figure out another way to cast aspersions on them, Cressien cuts in. “Is there a hazard His Majesty would wish us to be mindful of?”
Hughes looks annoyed. “Nothing His Majesty has not already disclosed to your party.”
“After the unfortunate incident last night, I would hope we are operating in an environment of mutual trust,” Cressien says with a smile narrow and thin enough to cut through glass.
“Indeed,” Hughes returns with his own iron-tinged smile,“one would hope that given Master Fitzherbert’s connections, all possible caution is being exercised.”
“Even were concerns regarding his connectionsnotutterly baseless, I’m certain we have given no reason to believe caution is not being exercised.”
“Yeah!” Eugene chimes in. The other two men look at him like he’s just set a drink down on their chessboard. He embraces it. “Caution’s being so exercised it’s got a mean set of abs. Shall we be skedaddling?”
Hughes reaches for the carriage door. “As the young master wishes. Her Highness Princess Rapunzel wished to speak with you in the palace.”
Eugene climbs into the carriage after Cressien and settles on a bench, crossing his legs. “Probably wants to ask what’s so bad inFlynnigan Riderthat it—got me…kicked out.”
He falters.
Hughes has dropped into the bench across from them and is pulling the carriage door shut. For the first time, Eugene sees the back of his hand without the cover of a glove.
A familiar dark starburst scar splays over its ridges and veins.
He saw that scar yesterday. He sawHughesyesterday, even if he didn’t know it.
Because he was the first person Eugene saw operating the door of the People’s Dagger’s hideout.
