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Then I waited.
Kellan’s shoulders were stooped when he entered removing
his cloak with the weary slowness of a man thrice his age. He jumped when he saw me appear from the shadowed corner by the window, but his shock was immediately replaced by relief.
“Aurelia,” he said, pulling me into a tight hug. “Thank the Empyrea you’re all right.” Then his excitement evaporated, and he held me at arm’s length to ask sternly, “What in all the blessed stars would compel you to come back here? After you gutted that cleric, the whole place went into an uproar. Arceneaux put a reward on your head and ordered all the refugees to be rounded up and arrested, their property burned—”
“I saw,” I said, casting my eyes toward the fireplace, remembering the spinning wheels as they were slowly eaten away by the flames.
“Fredrick forced them off the manor’s grounds, invoking an old law that maintains lords have judicial rights on their own property, and Conrad—” He stopped, face falling.
“What? What is it? Is Conrad all right?”
“He’s fine. He’s perfectly fine. But you should know . . . he has released me from his service. He told me that I’d fulfilled my duty to him, and that he’d find someone else to head his king’s guard. He said he wanted me to return to my former post, effective immediately. He dismissed me. And then he told me to go to my room, like a disobedient child.” He sighed heavily. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be a soldier, to serve the royal family faithfully, and now . . .” He trailed off.
“Your former post?” I almost laughed. “He didn’t dismiss you; he’s assigned you to go back to protecting me. And he did it in such a way no one listening would think twice about it.” Clever little rabbit, my brother.
“You think he knew you would be here, waiting for me?”
“He gave me the knife this afternoon. Said I’d need it, and I did.” I turned to the chamber window. “I wish I could thank him for it. Without it, Zan and I would be dead.”
“Where is Zan?” Kellan asked carefully.
“Safe,” I said. “I hope. I left rather quickly.”
“Why? You should have gone with him as far away as you could get. Across the isles, if you had to. To Halderia, maybe. Or Marcone. Started a new life together.”
I closed my eyes. “He and I . . . we can’t be together. Not ever again.”
There was a long stretch of silence before Kellan said, “So, what now? We can’t stay here. If you are caught, Conrad will have no choice but to order your death.” His eyes narrowed at me. “Did you just shrug off potential execution?”
“I’m afraid we’ve got bigger problems now.”
“Bigger than dying?”
“I’m not afraid of dying, Kellan. I have to die.” I knew the truth of it as I said it. There was no other outcome. It was me or Zan, and if Zan died, the Malefica would be let loose into the world.
Stomach tightening, I pulled the bloodcloth from the satchel and handed it to Kellan.
His eyes flicked to mine.
Where there were once three drops of blood, there was now just one: his.
I said, “The only question that remains is whether or not I take you with me.”
11
After I told Kellan all that had happened—carefully omitting the part where Zan and I ended up in bed together—and though he wanted to leave for the Ebonwilde immediately, there were two things we had to do first. Simon had said we’d need Onal to help us find the Ebonwilde witch, so I sent Kellan to fetch her while I went back to the Stella Regina to retrieve Simon’s book.
I knew Greythorne well enough that I didn’t need the invisibility spell to walk its halls, slipping from shadow to shadow. It helped that the manor was all but abandoned; most of the visiting courtiers had hitched up their fancy carriages and taken their leave of the location the first minute they could, putting the coronation’s unpleasantness behind them as quickly as they were able. I was able to reach the kitchen servant’s door and dart out into the maze without encountering a single soul.
The hedges were high, and the night was quiet. Any members of the Tribunal not currently burning Achlevan heirlooms in the village were most likely spread across the province looking for me.
The blue guide ribbons were, thankfully, still tied into the hawthorn. I followed their zigzagging course to the center plaza, glaring up at Urso’s statue as I passed. It was my own fault I ended up in Urso’s river instead of at Urso’s fountain, but I felt resentful toward him all the same.
I stole to the rectory entrance on the south transept side, creeping through the unlocked door and into the darkened hallway of the priests’ living quarters. Through the iron-grate door ahead, I could see the gentle gutter of the mourning candles from the chapel.
The study was empty, but in the darkness, the stacks of books became a gauntlet of obstacles; one wrong move, and I could send them all toppling, one into the other. At least the maze had the ribbons to guide me through it.
