Quinn gives the man his back as he turns to us. “I trust him. Let’s go.”
Shocked and more than mildly amused, I slip the arrow back in the quiver and sling the bow across my body. “No…” I hold up my hand and bring Quinn to a halt. Then I turn to the older man. “Finish the story.”
Sir Walter’s eyes flick to Quinn, then back to me. “Another time.” Sir Walter digs into a pouch tied around his waist. He pulls out two vials and holds them out to Dax and me. “Princess Rapunzel instructed me to give these to you. I can’t say that I’m surprised to learn she has the power to heal. Why else would John destroy his kingdom to find her? Always believed there was more to his madness than desperate, fatherly affection. Now, it all makes sense.” He gestures to the vials still clutched in my hands. “She was generous enough to make one for me as well. But she knew you’d be angry. She asked me to remind you that you were the ones who repeatedly told her that victory must come at any cost.”
Any cost tous. Not toher.
And angry?
No, try furious.
Rapunzel cut her hair—her hair. When this is over, first, I’m going to kiss her for all I’m worth…then I’m going to shake sense into the infernal woman for taking precious time off her life.
I snatch the vials from Sir Walter and stash it in the inner pocket of my wool jerkin. What I see are days. Weeks. Not the thick, yellow liquid. God only knows how much of Rapunzel’s life is lost.
Dax takes his vial from me and tucks it in the pouch around his waist. “She shouldn’t have done this.” His voice is as brittle as the leaves beneath our feet.
“Listen, this breach must happen fast. After tonight, John will do whatever is necessary to force Princess Rapunzel to use her healing power on him. I don’t know the extent of what she can do, but what we don’t want is that man to regain his health.”
“She can make him practically immortal,” I mutter.
“Holy Mother of God…” Sir Walter whispers, horrified. “You tell me when you need a clear path to get inside Newkirk, and I’ll have a small army waiting for you to help put Princess Rapunzel on the throne.”
“Is tomorrow night too soon?”
“No time is too soon.” Sir Walter glances over his shoulder at the massive castle looming like a distant, ominous smudge against the night sky. “There’s a hidden tunnel set in the eastern wall. It’s an escape route for the royal family to use during a siege. It’s all but forgotten. Relatively unguarded. Enter there, and it will lead you to the royal wing of the castle. They’re—”
“I know my way,” I snap.
“As do I,” Quinn adds.
While we never crossed paths at John’s court, Quinn and I visited Newkirk enough to make our way around the castle blindfolded. Dax, not so much. He was a knight and therefore relegated to the garrison outside the keep. Although I don’t trust anyone who isn’t part of our immediate circle, we’re stuck in a difficult position. Rapunzel and Eleanor are on the other side of those walls, leaving us no choice but to put their lives—and the success of our coup—in Sir Walter’s hands.
“Tomorrow night then,” Sir Walter spins and moves to hurry back to the castle, but Quinn leaps forward and clamps a hand around his arm. “Rapunzel.” He grinds out her name. “And the queen. They are…well?”
Sir Walter’s expression softens. “Aye. For now. But their safety is fleeting. We cannot wait.”
I march to Sir Walter, Dax matching my stride with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His usual cheerful demeanor has been lost these past days we’ve camped in Newkirk’s shadow. The weight of Rapunzel and Eleanor’s lives—and the future of Rygard—are a heavy burden on our shoulders. “If anything happens to either of them between now and the morrow, I’m holding you personally responsible.” I tear the dagger secured at my left hip from its small sheath and hover the tip near his cheek, just under his eye. “Am I at all unclear?”
“I have done everything within my power to protect those women.” With admirable courage, Sir Walter slaps the blade away from his face. “I’m not the enemy.”
“We’re all on edge.” Dax shoves me out of the way. Then he pries Quinn’s fingers from Sir Walter’s arm. “What Wren means to say is that we’ll meet you at the rendezvous point tomorrow at the night guards’ shift change. There. Better?”
“Be on time.” Sir Walter walks backward. “We have a small window of opportunity. Miss it, and we’re all dead—the queen included.”
But not Rapunzel.
Her, John will keep alive.
To torment.
To use.
For the rest of his life—and because of her hair, he’ll live a long twilight indeed.
And that’s why when I look at Quinn, he’s wearing a feral snarl, and there’s a demonic gleam in his eyes as he lowers his chin and tilts his head to the left. “John dies tomorrow. As Rapunzel said, no matter the cost.” Then to a retreating Sir Walter he growls out, “Don’t fuck us, old man. You won’t like the consequences.”
“Old man?” Sir Walter stops and, with a smirk, says. “At least I didn’t trip over my feet and land in a pile of horseshit after my first kiss.”
