Splinter & Ash, page 15
“Can you give us directions?” Splinter insisted. “And food?” She would have asked for horses too, if she didn’t think it would get him in trouble with her uncle.
“Of course. Stay out of sight.”
Lucen leaned in. “What will Splinter’s uncle do if he finds us?”
Camille blushed slightly, and he held himself like he wasn’t sure whether to bow in the presence of the prince. “He’ll hand you over to the royal guard before locking the doors and making sure Splinter never leaves home again.” He didn’t meet Splinter’s eye. His face twisted with regret. “He knows you’re no longer a squire. He’s been gloating all day.”
Splinter set her jaw and resolved that she wouldn’t let his cruelty get to her. “We won’t be seen. I won’t give him the satisfaction.” She wouldn’t go back again, not unless her brother finally came home.
“Good.”
Lucen made a sound in the back of his throat like he wanted to say something, but when Camille raised his eyebrows, he only shook his head. So Camille pointed them to the shadows and promised he’d be back soon. “Be careful.”
Lucen didn’t speak up until Camille had disappeared and closed the door behind him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, for the second time that night.
Splinter sagged down against one of the high walls. “For what?”
“They should be proud of you.” Lucen’s voice was so low, Splinter had to strain to hear him. Even then, she could hardly believe it. “My sister is lucky to have a friend like you. Trying to find her . . . I think it’s brave.”
“You’re trying to find her too,” she pointed out.
He shrugged. “That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s my fault. What I’m doing isn’t brave. I’m too scared to tell my mother and Uncle Lam what I did to you. Why Ash was alone all afternoon.” It was the closest he’d come to acknowledging the fight, and Splinter felt her anger at the unfairness of it all simmer inside. She rested her head against the stone wall. She wanted to punch it.
Lucen flashed her a humorless half smile. “You weren’t wrong when you called me cowardly and cruel.”
“Why?” she snapped.
“Why?” he repeated.
“You’re the best fighter among the squires. Everyone wants to be your friend. You have a family that loves you, and Ash looks up to you. One day you’re going to be king. You could be kind, like you were to the girl outside the sweet shop. You could be brave, like saying this in front of Camille instead of waiting until he’s gone.”
Lucen nodded slowly. “I could be.”
But he didn’t say anything else.
With directions—and a satchel full of raisin buns, red cheese turnovers, spiced meat, and a few wrinkled winter apples—Splinter and Lucen easily found their way to Lord Idian’s home. Or rather, his grandmother’s home. Lady Lavinia Devar lived in a comfortable house near Haven’s eastern gate, far away from the noble quarters. Hers was no mansion or manor, but a three-storied repurposed warehouse made into a well-loved home. On either side of the front door, plants climbed up high along the wall, with fine green leaves and pale white flowers despite the cold. The door had intricate stained glass decorations, and so did most of the windows. Light from inside cast colorful shadows onto the street. A well-maintained garden ran along the full perimeter of the building, with winter roses blooming lavishly. It reminded Splinter of the flower maze where she’d first met Ash, and she decided that was a good sign. As was the absence of any guards.
Lucen walked up to the front door and pounded.
Splinter winced. “What if someone hears?”
“They won’t be looking for us here, and it’s better than staying out on the street.”
The door opened. The weary, curious face of a servant appeared, and Lucen straightened. “Message from the palace for Lord Idian. Please escort us to him.”
Splinter crossed her fingers for luck, certain the servant would call the guards or demand proof of identity. He merely beckoned them to follow him.
Lucen smirked at Splinter.
She stuck her tongue out.
The servant led them through a cluttered hallway and up a winding set of stairs. Portraits of family members from ages past hung on the walls, some old enough that the paint had faded. Other portraits were more recent—including a sketch of a younger Lord Idian, proudly showing his shield.
On the second floor, the servant knocked on a pair of lavish doors. “My lord? Visitors.”
He stepped aside. Lucen and Splinter entered a large office with high ceilings. Maps covered the walls, and in all corners stood bookcases that reached from floor to ceiling, filled to the point of spilling over. On the far side of the office, past a heavy oak desk, burned a comfortable fire. A knight’s shield hung above the fireplace, as did a finely carved bow. In front of the hearth stood two soft blue chairs.
In one of them sat Lord Idian, a pair of glasses pinched on his nose and a book in his hand. He stood when they entered, and Splinter felt as though he saw straight through their cloaks.
He waved the servant away with a word of thanks, pocketed the glasses, and placed his book on the chair. “Come in, both of you.”
Once the servant had shut the door behind him, Idian bowed deeply to Lucen. “Your highness.” He squinted at Splinter. “And the princess’s squire. The whole palace is looking for you. What can I do for you?”
“Have you heard anything? Has anyone heard anything?” The words tumbled out of Lucen’s mouth as he folded back his hood.
Idian pointed him to one of the chairs. Lucen perched on the edge of the seat, while Splinter stood next to him.
Idian sat down again. “The people who took your sister have veiled themselves in silence, and unfortunately it’s near impossible for the guard to follow all traffic out of Haven. It’s a truly despicable act to steal a girl from her home, and I’m so very sorry for the pain it must cause you.”
Lucen blinked and turned away. Splinter angled toward Idian. “We want to find her. Hazel and Mist said we should talk to you.” In as few words as possible, she explained the situation. “They mentioned other threats to the crown. The Larks?”
Idian frowned. “You’re the youngest of the DuLac family, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Splinter wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything.
Idian stared into the fire. “If I knew where Ash was, I would’ve gone to the queen already.” He seemed conflicted. “What I do know is this. The Ferisian Empire isn’t the sole threat to the crown. And the Larks are certainly better positioned to steal a princess.”
Splinter and Lucen shared a look.
“Are you talking about spies among the nobility?” Lucen asked.
“Not quite,” Idian said.
“Who are the Larks?” Splinter prompted.
Idian ran a hand over his face. “Highness, what do you know about your great-grandmother, Queen Eliane?”
“She was powerful,” Lucen said. “She protected Haven by building city walls, and she protected the nobility by enshrining its privileges and traditions in law.”
“Some would call it powerful,” Idian said, choosing his words with care. “Others think she was mighty and cruel. Her word was law. She was afraid of the growing influence of the citizens of Haven, which is why she kept the city from expanding.”
Lucen flushed. “She did what was best for the crown.”
“But was it also best for the kingdom?” Idian countered. “Those two things aren’t always the same. Queen Eliane valued the kingdom, I’m sure, but she chose tradition and power over progress and equality, and unfortunately that’s a legacy many nobles now cling to. They want to go back to those good old days.” He spoke the words with disgust. “They believe any change is weakness, and trying to improve Calinor for all makes it worse for them.
“And your mother, stars guide her, taxes the nobility. She negotiates with merchants. She provides for the poor. She’s willing to defend the border but not push past it into Ferisian territory. She believes that making Calinor fairer makes it stronger, but they think she’s weak.”
“She’s willing to break tradition to let people like me become squires,” Splinter offered.
Idian nodded. “Some nobles just grumble and complain and don’t do anything. But the Larks . . . they’ve formed a secret faction within the kingdom. A network of nobles determined to return Calinor to its former glory. No matter the cost. They’ve sworn to depose the queen.”
Lucen plucked at the hem of his cloak. His hands trembled. “I never heard about the Larks.”
Idian shook his head. “You wouldn’t have. The Larks stick to the shadows. But if fighting in the mountains has taught me one thing, your highness, it’s to be aware of the dangers around me. And court is a hotbed of danger.”
Splinter had never heard about the Larks before either. But she knew Ash trusted Lord Idian. That was what mattered. “Ash once called court a tedious gathering of greedy nobles who only care about having the loudest voice, the most coin, the biggest influence on the queen,” she muttered.
The words startled a laugh out of Idian. “Plenty of nobles do care about what’s best for Calinor. The problem is, many of us have been taught that because we’re of noble blood, we know what’s best. That we’re better than others. Too many nobles let that go to their heads. They would put their own values and prestige over other people’s homes and lives.”
“But why would the Larks need Ash?” Splinter asked.
“To undermine the queen. To sow chaos, fear, and doubt. It would be enough to disappear her, but if they do somehow manage to bring her to the empire, they may even think they’ll gain imperial support. And the empress can sit back and watch Calinor destroy itself.”
Splinter paced. “Do the queen and Lord Lambelin know?”
“Of course her majesty knows.” Idian frowned. “But to most people, the Larks are a myth. Those of us who’ve tried to find them have not been able to prove anything. They fiercely protect their identity.”
“You’re saying anyone could be a Lark?” Lucen asked. “Even in the palace? How do you know about them at all?”
“There have been rumors about secret meetings here in Haven for years. The old lady got an invite once. A card with a time, an address, and a lark feather, slipped into her purse when she went to one of the midwinter plays. She shared the information with the royal guard, but by the time they investigated, the warehouse was empty. She never got invited again. When she told me, I started asking around.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a humorless half smile. “Mist must have overheard me talking to Lord Maronne. He came back from the mountains believing in traitors too. Perhaps that’s why she sent you to me.”
Lord Idian took a long drink from the cup by his side. “Stars, I wish it was just a thrilling story. If the Larks are stirring, it means they’re becoming more confident—and more powerful.”
“You believe it’s them, don’t you?” Lucen whispered.
Lord Idian looked down at his hands, where thin scars ran from his wrists to his fingers. “I don’t have evidence to accuse anyone,” he admitted. “But . . . yes, your highness. I believe they’re a danger to the kingdom. And right now, they’re a danger to Ash.”
It was a terrifying and overwhelming thought. Splinter shivered. Lucen wrapped his arms tight around his chest.
“What about when you served in the mountains?” Splinter wanted to know. “Were Larks there too? How do we unmask them?”
Idian’s mouth twitched. “I don’t think you’ll like the answer, squire.”
“Tell us,” Splinter said. “Please. Anything.”
“There were tales. Whispers about a young knight from Haven, who made his way up through the ranks with such ease that people assumed he had high-placed friends interested in his survival.”
Idian’s eyes filled with pity, and Splinter’s stomach dropped.
“Your brother. Anders—”
“No.” Splinter’s voice echoed. Her world tipped. Her ears rang. “That’s not true. Anders isn’t some kind of traitor. He’s loyal to the crown.” She shook her head. “He spends a lot of time behind enemy lines, that’s why his commanders trust him.”
“The soldiers called him stars-blessed, at first, because he was the only one who could cross into the empire and return without a fight.”
“You’re wrong,” Splinter insisted. Her brother was a hero. He wouldn’t have anything to do with this.
Lucen bit his lip, clearly mulling over everything he’d heard. “Splinter, it’s a lead. The only lead we have. My mother and Uncle Lam are investigating the empire. We should investigate the Larks.”
Splinter met his gaze. “Then let’s go talk to Anders. He’ll help us. He’s my brother. Please, Lucen.”
Lucen’s eyes widened. He nodded.
Idian stood, sending the book perched on his armrest flying to the floor. “Oh no, I’m sorry, your highness, I can’t let that happen. I wanted you to know, but it’s my duty to keep you safe. It’s time for both of you to go back to the palace.”
“Lord Idian. It’s for Ash,” Splinter said. And Anders. He would help. He would.
Lucen approached Idian. Splinter saw his hands clench and unclench by his sides. “Lord Idian. I order you to let us go.”
“The palace ordered everyone in this city to report any sight of you or your sister immediately. I cannot and I will not disobey my queen.”
“But one day I’m going to be king. You shouldn’t disobey me either.”
“You’re not yet,” Idian said apologetically.
“I don’t want Calinor to destroy itself,” Lucen said softly. “And I don’t want my sister to come to harm. Please.” The words landed heavily in the office, sucking the comfortable, warm air from the room.
“I can give you a head start before I inform the guards,” Idian said after a moment, though he sounded none too happy with the compromise. “It’s the best I can do.”
Lucen turned to Splinter. “To the Crescent Mountains?”
She put on her bravest smile. “Yes. I promise, Anders will help.”
When Splinter and Lucen walked out of Lord Idian’s office, he still appeared in conflict with himself, but he guided them to his stables. “If you’re going to travel, you need to be better prepared,” he said. “You need horses. The old lady will send me right back to the mountains herself if she wakes up tomorrow and finds I haven’t done everything I can to help you.”
He collected two proper swords, and two sets of bows and quivers full of arrows. “Promise me you’ll run before you get into a fight. But if you do find yourself in danger, I want you to be able to protect yourself.”
“I won’t forget this,” Lucen promised.
Lord Idian smiled crookedly. “I don’t know if that will make a difference to the queen, your highness.”
But Camille’s provisions and Lord Idian’s horses would make a difference to their journey.
Even if it seemed to baffle Lucen. “I don’t understand why Lord Idian helped us,” he admitted later, as they passed the gates amid a group of merchants. “He could have ignored me. Camille too. They’ll only get into trouble with the palace if they’re found out.”
“Because people care,” Splinter suggested. “True friends are willing to get into trouble to help when it’s necessary.”
Lucen nodded quietly. For the first time, Splinter wondered if Lucen had any true friends among the squires. It made her inexplicably sad to think he didn’t.
Chapter Nineteen
Ash
The days passed in a blur of creaking wagon wheels, infusions of star mint and pink rue on her uselessly painful arms, and denial. Merewen’s words followed Ash like ghosts, and every time she closed her eyes they became louder. Crueler.
They whispered to her that she didn’t fit in at court because she had never belonged in the first place.
They told her the queen only brought her back to help with the investigation, and she wouldn’t miss her at all.
They reminded her that the physician’s assistant had been right all along. Her fragile bones did run in the family.
Just not the one she thought was hers.
She tried to banish the whispers.
She focused on Aunt Jonet, who had made a place for Ash in Byrne. She’d told Ash time and again that she was the spitting image of Queen Aveline as a young girl. But what if she’d only said that to convince Ash she was family? Was that why it was so important to her that Ash decided on the kind of princess she wanted to be?
Ash thought of Lucen instead. She resembled her brother, didn’t she? They had the same bushy, unruly hair, the same snub nose. Except his shoulders were broader, his eyes wider, his chin pointier. He probably hated the idea of being compared to her, anyway.
She thought of her mother, who’d been so adamant that Ash was her daughter and not expendable. She could still feel her mother’s arms around her on the day she got back to Haven. The queen had held her so tightly, like she planned never to let her go.
She thought of Splinter too, who had promised to stay by her side, whether she was angry or sad or hurting or scared.
Ash didn’t know how and if she could ever disprove Merewen’s claims, but she did know this. They were her home. Her family. They were hers in all the ways that mattered.
So a week after Merewen and Aylin stole her from the palace, Ash shoved her worries aside and got up when Merewen brought her breakfast. She’d refused to face the others, but today she flexed her arms and raised her chin when Merewen climbed into the wagon.
“I want to eat outside and wash myself,” she said, like she would to any servant at the palace.
A bright smile broke through on Merewen’s face. “You’re feeling better? I’m so glad. Uncle Crispin says we’ll be at our destination soon, so you’ll be able to spend more time outside. The wagon must get stuffy.” She didn’t seem bothered by Ash’s haughty demeanor.
“Where are we?”
Merewen went on like Ash hadn’t asked. “I can guide you to one of the streams. The water is freezing, but Aylin is baking ember cakes for the road. Those will warm you up nicely. Will you let me help?” She held out a hand to Ash. Ink stained her fingers again.
