I froze, and my brow creased. I tugged on the handle, but she didn’t remove her gaze.
“Bucket change,” she said again.
“What?” I asked.
The girl shook her head and pressed a finger to her lips. She glanced down, then back at me. I followed her gaze.
A bundle of fabric nestled in the depths of the new bucket she pressed through the gate. I caught her eye, nodded, and she released her side of the handle.
I drew out the fabric, and they unraveled into dark clothing. A simple gray dress with a white apron and flat black shoes. The same outfit the servant wore now.
She held up a rusting key.
“Be quicker about it now,” she snapped. “I don’t have all day.”
Confusion bit at me, but I recognized this as a moment of escape and planned to seize it. I drew my clothes off – the final things Dray had given me – and replaced them with the servant’s attire. When the apron finally tied, she plunged the key into the lock and opened it slowly to avoid any sound.
She stepped into the cell and held the gate so I could leave.
Disbelief slipped into my mind. Could this be some kind of trap? Even if it was, I faced death either way. Better to discover what would happen next than sit here like a trapped rat.
I paused beside her on my way out. I forced my words to a bare whisper. “Won’t they take you in my place?”
She shook her head. “I have someone who would not let me be caught. I’ll be free from here before morning.” She jerked her head toward the door and raised her voice. “Bout damn time. You think you’re the only one on this block or something?”
I gave her a half smile and slipped from the cell. She eased the door into the lock and gestured at the bucket beside me. I dragged it up and heaved it carefully to my side.
She wrapped her hands around the bars and peeked through. “Follow the others. They’ll take you where you need to go.”
I turned down the hall, ducking my head in case any prisoners looked at the servant for too long and recognized a change from her face. I expected a shout to follow me, for the guards to appear and drag me back to my cell, but I walked through the arched pathway into the night’s air.
I drew a breath, realizing how tainted the stale air of the cells had been. Sweet scents invigorated my motivation, even as they mixed with the sharper smells of horse dung and wet dirt.
The bucket shifted with my weight. I must look foolish standing in the courtyard, staring at the stars. I glanced around, searching for the others the servant had mentioned.
A trail of similarly dressed women stumbled from other wings of the castles, lugging their own burdens. Walking only by the light of the boom, they fell into a line as they crossed the courtyard toward an opened gate. I hurried to the trail, and stepped into their pace at the end, still ducking my face from the guards.
The executioner’s block stood to my right as I followed the women, but I refused to glance that way. I knew it would be painted in blood from those killed today. If this escape turned unsuccessful, I did not wish for a preview to my fate.
We passed through the gate. As the stone maw swallowed me from the courtyard and spit me into the freedom of the wilderness, I wondered if I dreamt this escape. But the press of air against my skin and the rancid odor from my haul reassured I really was almost free.
Someone set a hand on my arm. My heart pounded in my chest.
“We’ve moved the waste latrine.” A familiar voice said. I risked exposing my face to glance up at the woman beside me. Rylla’s sharp features gave me a half smile and gestured into the woods. “Come this way, I’ll show you.”
She wore the same uniform as me. With her hair wound tight against her head, she looked even more like Dray, undeniably a blood relation. I looked away from her face, pain at Dray’s last words still sharp as knives into my gut.
Rylla began forward and didn’t look back. I bit my lip. Trusting her would be dangerous, but slipping alone into the woods almost guaranteed the Curse Catchers would find me before morning. And Dray was the last person I ever wanted to see again.
I followed her into the darkness.
“How did you plan this?” I asked once we’d gained enough distance from the other women.
Rylla tensed, as though surprised I’d spoken at all. I couldn’t blame her. My own voice still shocked me sometimes.
“There’s another curse-bearer in the Keep named Zaylee,” Rylla said. “She worked with an uprising group in the neighboring kingdom of Mytatyo, and has some contacts within the King’s guard.”
“I met her briefly,” I said. “They sent her to the torture wing.”
