‘I can hold back the Brotherhood, but there is nothing to stop your man,’ he said, and warmth blossomed in my chest.
I held on to this thought after I walked out and called on my vivamancy. The green magic unfurled in my core, reaching for the life around me. I touched the roots of the tree that grew over a small mound. Its Aether was dormant for the winter, but I coaxed it to life and willed it to grow – to weave itself tight, hiding the others.
The shadows slowly deepened when the branches grew above it. My power had again slipped from my control, but Irsha had a sword to free them both when the danger passed. Snow and dry leaves crunched under my boots when I ran away from the hiding spot, purposely stumbling and cursing to capture the soldiers’ attention. The pursuit paused, then the thunder of heavy male steps shook the ground, growing louder as I led them away.
Finally, I spotted the perfect place for my final act.
The failed escape of Inga Tivala was coming to an end. With a small yelp, I fell with a dramatic flourish onto a dry area under a tree, pretending I’d sprained my ankle. I posed theatrically, but something was missing. My almost-perfect plan had one significant flaw. I didn’t know how Inga behaved, and as much as I could wear the illusion of her face, my voice and attitude would betray me.
‘Perun’s arse,’ I muttered, grabbing the cleanest rock from the dirt and smashing it against my forehead. It wasn’t hard enough to knock me out, but as the first streaks of blood fell into my eyes, I knew I’d get the right reaction, so closing my eyes, I lay on the ground. Cold instantly seeped through the layer of clothes. I hoped Inga’s pursuers had a tracker or two that could find me before frostbite did.
‘She’s here! Fuck… No, it’s alright, she’s breathing,’ said the voice above me before I felt rough, calloused fingers prodding my forehead.
Another voice chimed in. ‘Will she live?’
My rescuer lifted me by the armpits. It was hard not to open my eyes or wriggle, but I didn’t want to spoil my act. I’d done enough healing to know that the longer I remained like this, the easier it would be to explain memory gaps and odd behaviour. So, I let the man carry me, enduring the stench of onions and greasy mutton that wafted off his cloak.
‘Stupid woman knocked herself out cold,’ my pursuer said before commanding another man. ‘Go tell the captain we found her and get the carriage ready. She’s in no state to travel on a horse.’
‘Sure, as long as you share the reward with me. Remember, we found her together,’ the other man said before I heard him jogging away.
And so it begins,I thought, focusing on listening to my surroundings. The muted rustling of the forest shifted gradually into the hum of town life. The man who carried me greeted the city guards, and before I knew it, I was bundled into a carriage with my head wrapped in clean linen while everyone discussed the best way to spend their reward money all the way to the castle.
Hold on a little longer,I repeated, while my cold, damp body demanded a toilet visit or a shift in my position to relieve the itch caused by the velvet pillow. When the carriage finally stopped, I almost abandoned my act, moaning when the man pulling me from the carriage pressed on my abdomen.
‘That’s the first sound she’s made, my lord. I think the injury might be more serious than it looks,’ an elderly man said, and I dared to sneak a look, seeing someone dressed as a chamberlain.
‘Did you find anything suspicious on her?’ a harsh voice asked. Just as Inga had said, her father wasn’t interested in whether his daughter lived or died. Through my eyelashes, I studied him. He was tall with a narrow, bony face that must have been handsome in his youth. Now, his skin was stretched over his sharp cheekbones. Tivala wore a haughty expression, and shivers ran down my spine when I realised how closely he resembled his murderous son.
‘Take her to her room, call the healer, and lock the door. I have the Tangran ambassador coming today, and if there are any problems – and I mean, any at all – I’ll feed you to the beasts,’ he said to the chamberlain.
The elder collapsed within himself, his shoulder hunched as if appearing small would spare him his master’s wrath. ‘Of course,my lord. Also, Jagon returned from Windmaster Island. They are still refusing our offer. I asked for a report, but he insists on talking to you himself.’
Bloody hell, why is he here?My initial plan of convincing him to get me into the castle became pointless the moment I discovered the mirror spell, more so when I met Inga. Now he was a threat, another one in my collection.
I didn’t hear the rest as the man carrying me moved. Soon, the soldiers’ steady steps changed. He grew more hesitant, slowing often, as if searching for something. The corridor looked like countless others in noble houses and castles, with dull stone walls adorned with tapestries and the occasional painting, the light provided by large, drafty windows.
‘Here. Her ladyship’s room is at the end of the corridor. I’m so glad you found her. Her poor mother must have been rolling in her grave at Lady Inga’s wilfulness.’ The older woman was still talking, guiding the soldier to a large ornate door, while I wondered how many times Inga Tivala had heard such words.
What’s good about living in a palace if you’re caged like a songbird?
I let the soldier lie me on the bed, not reacting, only occasionally making sounds to sell the pretence of my recovery. When he finally left, and the elderly woman called for the healer, I stretched, but the sense of dread only grew heavier. I was alone in the enemy camp.
I might have accessed Tivala’s castle, but would I leave it alive?
Chapter 32
Roksana
It’s interesting how little attention men pay you if you act stupid.
It took three days to prepare for my grand heist. I was exploring the castle’s layout, wandering around with a dreamy look on my borrowed face while servants answered all my breathy questions.
Tivala learned his lesson after his daughter’s escape. My every step was guarded. Men with serious faces followed me wherever I went, whether to the kitchens or the garden, keeping guard at my bedroom door every night. Still, they gradually lost interest and began chatting among themselves rather than watching a lady play with ornamental flowers or weep over a book.
Tymon’s map was helpful, allowing me to prepare an escape route. However, nothing replaced walking every path, measuring the steps, and finding out which windows were barred and which I could use to escape.
I could have it planned to perfection if only time weren’t running out. Inga Tivala was moving further away than the constraints of the mirror spell allowed. I could feel my spell’sconnection with her aether fading, my essence fighting to return to its natural pattern.
