The captain grits his teeth. I wonder how it works, the specters are able to sustain wounds, yet unable to die. Will he need a healer? Not that it’s any concern of mine. He reached his hand into a viper’s nest. It’s his own damn fault.
“You won’t find a way out of the citadel,” he growls, wrapping a shaking hand around the arrow shaft. “You’re wasting your time.”
A fresh wave of fury seeps into my bloodstream. But I merely flick my hand, striding from the practice court.
“So are you.” I’ve already found a way out, and I intend to use it.
My wanderings take me to the stables; the east wing; the ballroom, dusty and abandoned; the kitchen, where I spend a good portion of the afternoon helping Silas cut vegetables; the courtyards, each more austere than the last. The day wanes, and I consider how I might successfully put an end to the North Wind’s reign.
He’s too guarded. A fortress shielded within a fortress, consumed by the deep silence of stone. Evening meals remain awkward despite my best efforts to wheedle him into conversation. He holds tight to everything he is, and at times I wonder what he fears would happen were he to loosen that fierce grip. What I might find.
I go in search of Orla and discover her arguing with another specter woman. She is slender, perhaps mid-thirties—the age at which she passed on—wearing large round glasses that magnify her narrow face.
“I told you,” Orla growls. “I told you over and over again. How difficult is it to remember a color?” She grasps one side of the basket the woman holds. “Give me the linens.”
Near desperate, the younger woman yanks it back. “Wait. I can fix this—”
Orla’s fingers slip, and the basket snaps in the woman’s direction, spilling out its contents.
The woman drops to her knees, hurriedly gathering the cloth while darting fearful glances in Orla’s direction. “Sorry. So sorry…”
“Orla?”
My maid turns, then slumps against the wall, patting her neck with a square of cloth. “Apologies, my lady. I’ve spent the last hour”—she lowers her voice—“trying to fix this one’s mistakes.”
I frown in puzzlement.
“Her name is Thyamine,” she whispers to me, the words tinged with exasperation. “She drank the water of Mnemenos. Can’t remember a thing most days.”
Thyamine beams at the older woman, and Orla, being the kind, nurturing person she is, pats her on the head.
“Orla?” The woman glances at her with wide, beseeching eyes. “I’m sorry, what was I supposed to be doing?”
“Never mind that. I need you to find me the blue linens. Leave these here. I’ll pick them up.”
“Blue linens.” Thyamine rises to her feet, pads down the hall until her form blurs, all the while chantingblue linensunder her breath.
“Knowing her, she’ll probably bring me a basket of potatoes.”
I am a horrible person to laugh at such a comment, but I do.
Orla’s eyes twinkle, and she sighs as she begins picking up Thyamine’s mess. Kneeling beside her, I lend a hand, tossing the white cloth into the basket. “Do they sell herbs in Neumovos?”
Orla pauses for half a heartbeat, cloth clutched in hand. “They do, my lady.” She drops the bolt of fabric into the basket. “Why?”
“How far is the town from the citadel?”
“My lady, the lord has forbidden you from leaving the grounds. And Neumovos—” The wrinkles around her eyes smooth, so tight and pressed is her disapproval. “You do not want to go there. It is not a good place for you.”
She has no idea what I want. And she never will so long as there is hope of killing the king. “I can decide for myself what is good for me, what is not.” I lock eyes with her until she lowers her gaze. “Are you barred from Neumovos?”
“No, my lady. Most servants are allowed to travel to and from Neumovos. The soldiers are allowed to venture farther through the realm, but—”
“Please,” I whisper, covering her hand so she stops fiddling with the hem of her dress. “This is important. I would not ask this of you otherwise.”
“And if I say no?”
Soft laughter fizzles in my chest. Quiet, skittish Orla, yet sometimes, bold, daring, dauntless. “And here I thought it might be fun. I had it all planned out, too. A daring escape from the citadel.”
