It was Phaedra.
And in her hand, she held a key.
LOCK AND KEY
“Phaedra!” Hazel exclaimed, causing the angel to jump. Slaide shot her a glare, a reminder to be quiet.
The angel—who had an uncanny way of being exactly where and when she was needed—blushed and looked at the floor. “I heard Mistress Hazel was in trouble. I wanted to help.” She said it so matter of fact, as though it was the same choice anyone would have made in her position. But it wasn’t, and they wouldn’t. No, Phaedra had everything to lose and faced the risk of being severely punished if caught, and yet here she was… committing treason. Perhaps she was the bravest of them all.
Hazel wanted to hug her. Tried to hug her, but was deterred by the damn manacles again.Right… that’s why she’s here, after all.
“Reunions are great and all, but we—and I cannot stress this enough—we don’t have time. Phaedra, you’re incredible. I’ll take those,” Slaide said, reaching for the keys.
He inserted the key into the lock and with aclick, the iron fell loose from her wrists. The lack of weight on her arms, the release of pressure… it was euphoric, something of a dream. But no, this was real, and they were all in real danger. She should be elated,but instead a pang of guilt ran through her at the realization that Phaedra was now an accessory to her escape.
The chains clattered to the floor and Hazel jumped over them, wrapping Phaedra in her arms. She wanted to scream and cry and laugh. She did not deserve such loyalty from someone who had likely seen her share of horrors as a slave in this castle. No one did.
She looked the angel in the eyes and found hope there. “Why?” Hazel asked.
“Mistress?” Phaedra looked confused.
“Why are you helping me? You’re putting yourself in harm’s way, and there’s nothing I can give you in return.”
Phaedra smiled and shook her head. “You have given me all I needed from the day you arrived.” She looked forlorn. “Master Slaide has always treated us Lessers with respect, but the same cannot be said about the castle guests. They are above us and treat us as such. Until you. I saw the fear in your eyes, heard your screams at night when you had nightmares. And through it all, you were kind. You never asked for anything extra, and certainly never made demands. You never yelled at me and never struck me. Most people… their power over the slaves here is the only power they have in their lives. It makes them feel superior to belittle us, sometimes beat us.”
“You’re putting your life at risk because I never hit you?” She was heartbroken and flabbergasted at the thought.
“No, Mistress Hazel. I risk my life for you because I consider you a friend. And friends don’t leave each other behind.”
Hazel’s heart sank into her stomach at that statement. Because wasn’t that exactly what they were doing to Phaedra, leaving her behind?
Slaide put a hand on Hazel’s arm. “I told you before, she’s going to be fine.” He addressed the angel then. “As you can see, plans have changed. The timeline has been moved upconsiderably, but everything else is still in place. When the phoenix burns bright, the world will shatter. Make sure everyone knows and is clear of the dungeons beforehand.”
Phaedra nodded her understanding.
Hazel could not make heads or tails of what was said, but she understood the message all the same. Slaide was going to make good on his promises.
They’d said their goodbyes,Slaide insisting they werereallyout of time. And maybe they were, but was rushing going to change the outcome for any of them? Agnes was conscripted to her fate, Phaedra was putting herself in danger, and Slaide, well the fact that Slaide was helping her at all was a mystery. Yes, things had changed drastically for them in a short amount of time, but he appeared to have it pretty good as a member of the King’s inner circle, even if he hated it and admonished the King’s actions. He could play their game. After all, isn’t that what he’d been doing all this time?
Hazel was concerned with getting out unseen now that the sun was rising and the castle inhabitants were beginning to roam about. Slaide, of course, had a plan for everything. They stuck to the walls and places where the natural shadows grew longest. His magic was incredible, the shadows enveloping both of them in darkness and allowing them to creep along unnoticed.
Outside, it was easier to stay hidden. The sun was just high enough to cast shadows from the ramparts and outbuildings. They kept to the walls where they could, taking advantage of every bit of shade they could find. Occasionally, they’d cause ashadow to fall at an improper angle or an unnatural length for the height of the sun. But no one in the castle bothered to pay attention, and if any of the slaves noticed, they certainly weren’t saying so. A single pair of guards jogged by, headed back to where Slaide and Hazel had come from. Toward the dungeons. No doubt word had spread of her escape.
The exterior grounds were mostly vacant. The gardens were abandoned save for the lone gardener, trimming hedges as though nothing were amiss. On a normal day, ladies and noblewomen would mill about, chatting on the latest gossip while persistent young noblemen attempted to woo them.
Hazel took a moment to admire the well-kept space, so colorful with its rolling green grasses and endless rainbow of assorted floral species. It stood in stark contrast to the harsh, wilted landscape outside these castle walls. The irony was not lost on her, that the lush garden was likely cultivated and maintained with the very magic Magnus sought to eradicate.
Sticking to the shadows, Slaide and Hazel passed unseen through the gardens and into the courtyard. At its center was a large fountain with a statue at its center portraying the gods. Not just any gods. The Gods of Wind, the only ones left after the great divide, the abandonment of Aeos, when humankind was forsaken by theothergods. Notros, Boreos, Zephros, and Eureos.
She and Connall didn’t pay the gods much attention, and didn’t “play their games” as Connall used to say. They didn’t dedicate their lives to prayer or worship, though he had taught her their names in passing.
Over time, she’d learned what each was known for and quite frankly wasn’t sure why anyone would choose to give them a moment of their time. They were malevolent beings, generating chaos and causing harm when they were slighted.
There they were in all their sculpted glory, all that remained of the original pantheon. Hazel had an overwhelming urge to hurl the nearest rock at the hideous monument. No, four rocks—one for each ugly face. The pantheon had brought balance. Without balance, there was only destruction. Aeos was dying. And yet, Magnus was perfectly content with that.
A strong hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged, pulling her from the rage-fed stupor she’d fallen into. Right. They had tomoveand there was no time to dawdle. And yet, as they departed the statue, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of their godly stares bearing down on her.
Two coaches rolled up, wheels and hooves clattering on the cobblestone paved drive in front of the carriage house. One was a late arrival to thefestivities,a well-dressed man all but dragging his woman into the castle as she hefted the hem of her skirt as high as she could to avoid tripping on it.
