His voice echoed oddly off the buildings—the silence was that thick, with not even the scurry and squeak of a rat to break it.
I made a decision. I went to the nearest door and pounded on it, loud enough to wake the dead.
“What are you doing?” said Sylvester.
I banged my fists even harder. “Open up!” I yelled “I’m not going to stop!”
Finally, the door opened a sliver. I saw two frightened eyes and a slice of a nose.
“What’s going on here?” I demanded. “Where is everyone?”
“The king ...” said the eyes and nose in a wavering voice. They looked beyond me and saw Sylvester. The eyes widened in horror and panic, and the person would have slammed the door if I hadn’t seen that coming and jammed my foot in the way, between some of the hastily nailed boards. “I thought they were all gone!” they gasped.
“The magic-workers? Where did they go?” I demanded.
“They rode out. All of them. The king, and the ladies ... so splendid. Like a parade. Everyone came out and cheered.” It was an old woman, I realized, and one who was clearly very frightened. “We’d never seen anything like it. The king told us there was an army on the border, that they were going to stop the army. He told us not to be afraid, but to stay inside and bar the doors until he returned.”
Clever. We all grew up knowing that the king and his sorceresses protected us from war and invasion. If rumors of their vast harvest this time made it to the city and more central villages, the king could claim the people had merely been casualties of this supposed war.
And by couching the harvest as a parade to certain victory, they would have the kingdom’s people lining the streets throwing flowers and waving flags, cheering on their own destruction.
The old woman’s eyes kept drifting to Sylvester, and I saw the familiar look of awe and longing on her wrinkled face. Even now, as she huddled terrified in her house, she was caught up by his beauty and glamor, a rabbit mesmerized by a snake. The fact that I loved the snake didn’t make me any less sympathetic to the rabbit.
“How long have they been gone?” I asked. I had to ask her twice, because she was so busy staring at Sylvester.
“Since yesterday,” she said. “We haven’t heard a thing. Doyouknow anything?”
This last was directed at Sylvester.
“Uh ...” He was at a loss for words. “No. But ... Stay inside. Keep waiting for news.”
“And keep your door locked,” I said to her—uselessly, because, of course, the king and sorceresses were already gone, and even if they weren’t, a wooden door wouldn’t present much of an obstacle.
I had to say something, though, to assuage the terrible rage and helplessness I felt. She didn’t need telling twice, but shot back into her burrow quick as winking, with only one more quick glance at the sorcerer.
“They moved swiftly,” said Sylvester.
“We knew they would,” I said. “And now we have to catch up. Who knows how many hearts they’ve harvested already?”
“And our visit to the Weftwitch armed us with nothing more than knowledge.”
My conscience prickled as I thought of the seal. “We have to go to the palace,” I said quickly, smothering my guilt. “We need some kind of weapon against the king. Your magic against him and all your sisters ... Even if you were the most powerful sorcerer in the world, we would have no chance.”
Sylvester nodded. “There may yet be usable hearts. Unless my father took them all with him.”
“Let’s hope he didn’t,” I said grimly. Cornelius was half asleep in my arms. I stroked his head. “Maybe you should stay here,” I told him. “Find a safe spot and wait for us.”
“Nonsense,” he squeaked. “I’m coming with you.”
“I can get us up to the palace,” said Sylvester. “Just. But we will need to use the carriage for the rest of the journey. It will take several hours to catch up to my father.”
“Then we need to go now,” I said.
There was a queasy lurch in my stomach as Sylvester rearranged reality around us, but after the nightmare we’d just been through with the House, it felt like a pleasant evening stroll.
Like the rest of the city, the palace was abandoned. I suppose a skeleton staff probably continued working inside, as a place like that needed a lot of daily maintenance.
“No guards at the gate,” I remarked. “That’s lucky.”
