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Chapter 21
“We have little evidence there’s a hunter present,” Shadow said. “Just a scent I detected. Hardly any cause for alarm.”
He had a point. But the king was already on edge over his daughter’s disappearance and the attacks in his villages. If a hunter had snuck into his castle, he deserved to know.
“What if we scour the castle for more evidence?” I suggested. “If we find anything, we alert the king.”
“Good idea,” Shadow said.
“You stay and rest, buddy.” Flare pressed his fingers lightly to Shadow’s chest.
Shadow glanced at me with a tight jaw.
Flare grabbed Phantom in a headlock and ruffled his hair. “Come on, pup. We’ll go with the sweetheart.” The way he said “pup” no longer carried that demeaning edge. My heart warmed at the idea they were finally getting along, all thanks to Phantom encouraging Flare’s jokes.
Flare, Phantom and I left Shadow, and spent the afternoon searching the palace grounds in the east, north, and south wings for further signs of the hunter, with Flare maintaining a safe distance from me. By the time we arrived at the south wing, we’d come up empty-handed. A few times, Flare had tensed, and he turned around quickly and quietly, as if he’d sensed someone trailing us. His behavior had made my stomach toss with nerves, but I never detected anyone, and none of the panthers indicated they had, either.
Throughout our scouting experience, Phantom explained all the history behind various artifacts, art pieces, rugs, and the architecture. Hanging on his every word, I listened, enthralled, sometimes stopping to examine what Phantom pointed out to me. The way he gripped my wrist, guiding me from piece to piece, made my heart bounce in my chest.
Flare grabbed the sides of his head and scrunched up his face. “Pup, please, my head is aching.”
Phantom’s excitement drained from his face, replaced by a sagging, solemn look. I’d seen the same look on the face of a child whose father was not interested in the painting the little boy had drawn.
I gave Phantom a wink and a smile, letting him know I had loved every moment. Each time he spoke, that honeyed tone, his excitement shining through…Sea God…it all did something to my insides.
At the end of our exploration of the south wing, Flare twitched, his shoulders hulking. “That dirty slime is on our tail,” he said, pointing over his shoulder. “Has been since we left the infirmary.”
I glanced over my shoulder. The king’s liege rested against a pillar, clutching a square, metallic object in his hands, his eyes pinned on us. Light reflected off the item in his hands when he twisted it a certain way.
Phantom’s shoulders snapped back. “That’s the third time I’ve seen him, too. He’s definitely following us. What’s that in his hands? A knife?”
Something was up if we were being watched. Did the king not trust us? Was the liege up to no good? My stomach wouldn’t settle.
From what I could remember, my father and I had never been followed on our visits. Then again, I’d been a child, swept up in the bliss of playing with the princes and princesses. Back then, a much older dragon had acted as the king’s liege. This new one must have come into the king’s service after my stepmother had married my father.
Whatever the liege was up to, hopefully, he was fooled by Phantom’s vivid descriptions of the palace, believing it only to be a tour and not a hunting expedition. I didn’t trust the slime and would rather take our findings straight to the king.
“Let’s investigate the last wing,” I suggested, not keen to linger under the suspicious eye of the slimy liege.
At my uttering, the liege disappeared back into the shadows.
Flare gestured for me to lead the way. Who’d have known such a rough-and-tumble guy had manners. Complicated men like him had multiple layers, like an onion, and one had to peel back the layers to reveal his core.
We crossed several passages, the library, and the king’s council chambers to reach the grand staircase. Two soldiers posted at the top stood at attention and stomped the butts of their spears. That was their way of saying we weren’t to continue into the royal family’s sleeping quarters.
“Can you smell anything?” I asked.
I was hit with the sudden awareness of how strange this must have looked to the guards. Something I should rectify and quickly. Inspired by Phantom, I said the first thing that came to mind.
“The ceiling was hand-carved by sculptors five hundred sun cycles ago when the palace was built,” I said. “It took them three cycles to complete it.”
“Ah,” Flare said, catching my drift and stroking his chin, casually pretending to admire the ornate patterns. “It’s beautiful.”
Phantom gave us away with his tense stance, staring at the guards, lifting his nose to sniff. Flare nudged him, and the younger panther copied the elder,
examining the staircase, running his hands along the polished marble.
“This is Kyzantian marble from the fifth era.” Phantom skipped across to the silk rug lining the wall, rubbing it between his fingers. “Third era silk from Utaara. This must be worth a fortune.”
