Saga’s chest clenched, emotion threatening to claw forth. She shoved it back, focusing on dripping melted wax over the letter’s seam. It pooled, and she counted ten heartbeats before pressing the sealer stamp into the wax.
“I cannot be rescued,” Saga finallymurmured.
“Surely you can?—”
“You watched from the tower while I attempted to cross the courtyard, Ana,” snapped Saga. “You saw what happened. My…affliction prevents me from stepping outdoors.”
“Then you shall not step outdoors,” was Ana’s stubborn reply.
Saga was silent, trying unsuccessfully to stamp out the glowing ember of hope.Dangerous, she thought.Heartache.
“There are herbs,” continued Ana, “when placed into one’s drink, it will make them fall into a deep slumber.”
“And…what? You’dcarryme from Askaborg?” Saga’s hands trembled at the terrifying thought of leaving Askaborg—the only home she’d ever known, with its secret passages known to her alone. The thought of waking in a strange place, surrounded by people she didn’t know, made her feel positively ill. How would she know where the exits were, the shadowy places where she might hide?
“There are many ways to bring things in and out of the castle,” Ana replied. “Parcels are constantly arriving and departing. Perhaps a large trunk…a sack of grain…a warrior’s armor with a face shield. The southern branch of the Uppreisna is based out of Midfjord—a large enough city for us to blend in, yet close enough to Sunnavík to travel to and from swiftly. ’Twould be but a few days’ travel to reach it…” Ana’s voice trailed off as she took in whatever expression was on Saga’s face. “We have time to consider it, Your Highness.”
Despite the fear her words drew, Ana’s enthusiasm was catching. Saga couldn’t keep herself from dreaming. What if she were to leave, to plant her roots in soil less toxic? Would she be able to bloom again? Saga took a tremulous breath, preparing to voice the thing she’d never allowed herself to hope for. It had always felt impossible. Too much to even consider.
“I want to leave,” she said, her hand reaching up to clasp a winterwing earring. “But my cage feels safer.”
Much to her chagrin, Saga’s entire body was now quivering. Ana’s hand slid into Saga’s gloved palm, squeezing gently. Such tenderness was foreign to Saga. So long she’d lived in this cold place. So long she’d kept her thorny protections in place.
“Think on it,” said Ana. “Give yourself time to adjust to the idea. In the meantime, we have other diversions.”
“Svaldrin,” murmured Saga, breathing deeply.
“Svaldrin,” confirmed Ana, picking up the freshly sealed scrolls. She hesitated. “It is possible the Black Cloak’s information is too closely guarded to be found in public records,” said Ana, turning her back to Saga. “Bolder action maybe required. Keep an eye out for anything that might be kept under lock and key. Cupboards. Drawers. Cabinets.”
“How would I ever gain access to these?” Saga asked, despair creeping through her.
“That, I do not know,” said Ana, brushing her skirts. “But I’m certain you’ll find a way.”
Saga nodded. One way or another, she’d figure it out.
“Until our next meeting, Your Highness,” said Ana, a weary smile sent her way.
And with that, she departed Asla Tower, leaving Saga in contemplative silence.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Descending Asla Tower with her satchel clutched in hand, thoughts chased themselves around in Saga’s skull. Missing Galdra. The Black Cloak. An escape plan. But first, locked cabinets. Immediately, the cabinet below Maester Alfson’s worktable came to mind. Be it instinct or something else, when Saga had touched the lock, she’d known with such certainty that sheneededto get into that cabinet. But how would she obtain a key? And besides that, how would she even get into the room with said locked cabinet?
It was too much to think of all at once. She needed a cup of mead. A warm bath. Needed to ease the tension coiling around her spine.One step in front of the other,came from the back of her mind. Saga frowned, wondering where such a chipper thought had materialized from.
Reaching the bottom of the spiral staircase, Saga collected her torch from an iron loop on the wall and paused. Asla Tower was located in the remote northern wing, and they were in the dark hours of the night, but she let her Sense stretch out to alert her of nearby patrols.
Silence.
With a deep breath, Saga stepped into the corridor, leaving her mental shields down. Immediately, the hairs on the back of her neck rose. She paused, glancing over her shoulder, but was met with utter darkness.
Rounding the corner, Saga held her torch aloft as she found the tapestry with the mad-eyed berserker. Pulling it aside, she fumbled for the latchstone and shoved her shoulder into the door until it gave way.
“Is strange how this door is missing from your detailed map.”
Saga yelped, torch tumbling to the floor. Heart galloping in her chest, Saga whirled. The torch remained lit, illuminating the bottom half of Kassandr Rurik’s face. Saga stared at his cleft chin, covered with the untidy beginnings of a beard. Her gaze trailed up to his mouth, twisted into a look of pure displeasure.
“What are you doing here, Rurik?” she bristled, trying to gather her senses. Gods, but this man was proving meddlesome. And why could she not hear his thoughts? Saga peered at him, concentrating. Her barriers were down, yet still, she could not hear a thing.
