Splinter & Ash, page 2
The words cut, and without thinking, she pushed off with her strong right foot and flung herself at her brother. Her fingernails grazed his tunic, but he sidestepped her and tugged her sleeve. Ash lost her balance and went sprawling. Her shoulder slammed into the bench, and her foot twisted underneath her. She bit her tongue to keep from crying out at the pain.
Lucen pulled her up by her arms. His face was close to hers when he snarled, “Mother should have left you there.”
Then he turned on his heel and stalked away.
Ash scrambled to her feet, spotted a gate that led away from the main garden—and fled. Away from the music. Away from her brother. She was done.
Ash used her cane to steady herself as she sped deeper into the gardens, disappearing between the trees and the flowers. No beacons. No guests, no guards, no one to stop her from leaving this whole masked mess behind her.
But as the night embraced her, the path sloped steeply downward, and the ground underneath her feet suddenly disappeared. Ash’s cane found no purchase, and it slipped from her fingers as she tumbled face-first into the grass.
Chapter Two
Ash
Ash pushed herself up on her hands and knees. Crushed blades of grass clung to her hair, and she couldn’t see her cane anywhere. She patted the ground with no success. She could only imagine what people like Wendalyn would say if they heard about this. Or her brother, for that matter.
Footsteps crunched through the plants. In the low light, Ash could make out the scrawny figure of a squire, dressed in scuffed leathers and wearing a flowery mask. He shouldn’t be here, but she might not have another chance to get help until the guests began to miss her. And who knew how long that would take?
She called out, “You, squire!”
The squire startled and steadied himself on a low stone wall. He hadn’t seen her. “Yes?”
Ash swallowed. “I need help.” She hated to admit it.
The squire spotted her. His eyes widened, and he rushed over. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
“I could use a hand,” Ash said.
With a soft groan, she let the squire pull her to her feet. She brushed the grass from her hair and the dirt off her dress. Her heart hammered. “My cane lies here somewhere. Find it for me. Please.”
Ash braced herself for the squire to start laughing. She hated how reliant she had to be on him. But he only grumbled while he scoured the grass around her.
Eventually the squire reached for a long dark shape. “Found it!”
Ash sighed with relief. “Finally.”
Immediately, she realized how rude that sounded, and when the squire came back to her, she grimaced. She’d kept her guard up at the party, but that was no reason to be mean. “I’m sorry. You were kind to me and I’m horrible.”
The squire offered the cane to Ash, and she accepted it gratefully. She felt more certain with her cane to lean on, more like she could figure out her next steps. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the musicians and pretended to be embarrassed but fine. “It was my own fault too. I shouldn’t have wandered off, but I couldn’t stand the crowds in the main square.”
The squire tilted his head. “You don’t like parties either?”
Ash studied him. It was an odd thing to ask, given the circumstance. But that wasn’t the only odd thing about him. He looked different from the other squires she’d seen. His mask was made to accompany a dress instead of leathers. His armor was old, and it didn’t quite fit, like it was someone else’s.
“I don’t like crowds,” Ash said. Especially not crowds where, if people didn’t laugh at her, they wanted something from her. An introduction to the queen. A promise to visit someone’s estate or store. It made her feel like a means to an end.
“Me neither,” the squire admitted. His pale skin turned bright red under his mask, and he pitched his voice softer—and lower.
It only intrigued Ash more. “Then why are you here?”
“Probably for the same reason you are.”
“Court. All these nobles whose gossip is sharper than their blades, but both are pointless.” The words tumbled out of Ash’s mouth, unintended but true nonetheless.
The squire didn’t scoff at her. Instead her comment teased a smile from him. Mischief sparked in his eyes. “Parties are a way to show loyalty, my uncle claims. So we’re here. But we have the whole evening. We could walk the maze and stay away from the main square.”
Ash pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. She heard the relief in his voice, and she felt certain the squire couldn’t be one of the noble sons who lived at court and studied to become knights. They were used to these events. If not one of them, who was he? “What’s your name?”
The squire paused before he answered. “Splinter.”
Ash frowned. “That can’t be a real name.”
“Then what’s yours?”
The question was so unexpected, Ash nearly laughed. He didn’t know her. Giddiness surged through her, because that ignorance felt like freedom on a night like tonight. “My name is Ash.”
“Of course that is a real name.”
“It’s the only one you’ll get.” Ash let her relief shine through. Relief at Splinter’s plan. Relief at not having to go back. Relief at finding someone in Haven who didn’t care about titles or positions first.
If she could spend the rest of the party with this strange squire, the night looked a whole lot brighter. “Lead the way, Splinter.”
The flower maze had been Ash’s grandfather’s favorite place. At least that was what Ash’s mother had always told her. Ash understood that well. She loved its winding paths and the winter blossoms. She could breathe here. Still, she pretended to let Splinter lead.
He marched across the path and pushed away thorny stems that had crawled over the uneven stones. “None of the secrets of the maze will be safe from us. Anyone who can find their way around Haven can find their way around a simple flower labyrinth too.”
Ash raised her eyebrows. Splinter walked with purpose, like he could leave his worries behind if he outpaced them. But at every corner and every crossway, he waited to make sure Ash was close by, and together they picked the most overgrown paths. Occasional snatches of music drifted out from the main square and settled between the flowers.
When Splinter ducked underneath the snow-covered branches of a willow tree, Ash pried. “You know Haven well?” She’d only ever gone into the city surrounded by guards. It was hardly the same as knowing a place.
Splinter spread his arms wide. “I know every street and every secret. I know the best market stalls to buy candied berries. The easiest shortcuts to get from the floating docks to the palace, and the quickest way to get from the palace to the Shallows.” He picked another path, surrounded on both sides by holly bushes and wintergreen roses. “Haven is my home.”
“I wish I could feel that way,” Ash admitted. “I spent a lot of time with my family outside the city.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. “I’m not sure I could even find my way to the market, let alone find the best stalls.”
“I could show you,” Splinter offered. “In the market district, everyone has decorated their shops and stalls for the festival. And the docks are lit up at night to celebrate the new year. My brother always used to take me there, to watch the ships and drink spiced lemonade.”
“Won’t he—” Ash started.
Splinter ducked around a corner. “He left to fight in the mountains. At the border.” His enthusiasm made way for worry—or grief. “I miss him. And my uncle doesn’t care about the festival. He only cares about power and our family name.” Splinter spat out those last words. “Maybe he should try to care more about our family instead.”
“I’m sorry.” Ash reached out a hand to Splinter. “Family is complicated sometimes.”
She used her cane to shake some snow from the bushes, opening up a path before them. “I hope the other squires treat you better?”
A shadow crossed Splinter’s face, and he pushed through the gap.
Ash followed, uncertain of what to say, but determined that she didn’t want to see him hurt. “When you’re a knight . . .”
Splinter raised his chin. “I’m not just going to be a knight, I’m going to be a hero, like in Calinor’s oldest stories.” He took his ornamental dagger and spun it around on the tip of his finger, before he offered it to Ash with a flourish. “Like Sir Beril the Valiant, who defeated a dozen assassins with nothing but a piece of rope and a candelabra, saving Queen Eliane’s life when she was a little girl. Or Lord Lyon, who crossed the Midnight Ocean twice.” He visibly forced himself to grin.
Ash wanted to wrap her arms around him and find a way to make him laugh, both at the same time. She accepted the blade—which was old and blunt but beautifully crafted, with tiny stars etched in the metal—and tried to copy Splinter’s move. The weapon spun once before it tumbled to the ground. “What about Sir Riven of the Cats?”
Splinter scooped up the dagger. “Riven of the Cats?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of him.”
Splinter’s eyes sparkled. “Tell me, please?”
Ash cleared her throat. “Once upon a time, when the stars-blessed kingdom of Calinor stretched out far beyond the peninsula, and the royal family lived in Kestrel’s Reach instead of Kestrel’s Haven, Sir Riven of the Cats was the youngest and smallest of the queen’s knights. He was barely strong enough to wield a sword, and not very tall. Most people thought he should never have been knighted. When Sir Riven and a handful of other knights were ambushed and captured by Ferisian soldiers, even the Ferisians considered leaving him behind. After all, he was wounded, and no one thought him valuable.
“But Sir Riven knew his captors underestimated him. As the soldiers brought the knights deeper into the empire, Sir Riven used their misjudgment to help his fellow knights escape. One by one. Night after night. Until Sir Riven was the only one left, and under heavy guard. But he managed to slip away too.
“Sir Riven tried to walk back to Kestrel’s Reach with the stars for guidance, even though he was injured and the city was far away. He walked until he couldn’t walk anymore. Until he saw the shape of buildings, and that is where he fainted.
“When he came to, he found himself not in Kestrel’s Reach, but in a misty ruin of an old star temple. His injuries were healed, but no matter where he turned, he saw no exit. What he did see was a cat.”
“A cat?” Splinter bit his lip. “Are you making this up?”
Ash laughed and circled around Splinter, spotting the path that led out of the maze.
Splinter ran after her. “Well, what happened next?”
“The cat led him to an altar in the middle of the temple, and on it lay a beautifully made sword. It was graceful and lithe and the blade shone brightly, as if it was forged from starlight. Sir Riven grabbed the hilt, and it fitted his hand perfectly. The sword made him feel stronger. The moment he picked it up from the altar, however, the mists around him solidified and ghosts attacked from all sides.
“Sir Riven fought. The sword struck the ghosts as if they were corporeal. The cat fought alongside him, hissing and clawing.
“The fight lasted for a long time, but neither the knight nor the cat tired. With every specter they vanquished, the mist cleared, and soon only the ruin remained. The ruin, the knight, the cat—and the sword made from starlight.
“Sir Riven simply kept walking home. When the people of Kestrel’s Reach saw his sword, legends soon followed.
“He offered the starlight sword to his queen, but she let him keep it, and with it, her gratitude and a trusted place on her council. He was given a hero’s welcome and a knight’s respect. The cat stayed with him too.
“People forgot that Sir Riven had once been the smallest and unlikeliest of knights. Instead they knew him as brave, fierce, and above all, kind. With his legendary sword, he continued to fight for his queen and for all who needed his aid. And on days when he walked the city with his magical cat by his side, every stray cat followed them, like their own feline honor guard.”
Ash’s throat was dry and she licked her lips, but she congratulated herself on a plan well executed when she saw how intently Splinter was listening. “The starlight sword is rumored to be in the royal armory still.”
Splinter stared at her, his expression a mixture of disbelief and longing. “Is any of this true?”
Ash glanced at the garden around her, as if to make sure no one else was close, then leaned in. Her heart gave the slightest twinge when she said, “Of course not. My brother and I made it all up.”
Splinter blinked. Then he snorted. Finally he laughed, and Ash laughed with him.
Chapter Three
Ash
Midnight crept closer, and with it, the lighting of the beacons. Time had flown by in Splinter’s presence. It was so easy to talk to him. For the first time since coming home, Ash wasn’t lonely. She wanted to take Splinter up on the offer to go to the market together. She wanted to spend more time with him, even if it meant they had to share their true identities.
Splinter hadn’t identified anyone in his family, but Ash quietly went through everything her aunt had made her learn about the powerful noble families in Haven. The Labannes, who’d made their fortune investing in merchant ships that sailed from the floating docks. The DuLacs, who could trace their lineage back to the birth of the kingdom, and whose youngest had gotten into a fight with Lucen at the market late last summer and punched him. The lords of Divon, who oversaw the Royal Forest until the war called them north. Too many of them had lost relatives to the war, and countless knights were stationed in the mountains to keep Haven—and all of Calinor—safe.
Her new friend might belong to any of them.
“Splinter?” Ash scratched at the leather bands that held her mask in place. “Who are you squired to? Who are your parents?”
Splinter’s hands clenched by his side, and he shook his head like he’d been caught in wrongdoing. A hint of unease tugged at the back of Ash’s thoughts. But before she could wonder what secret Splinter could be hiding—
A scream tore through the quiet garden.
A tall guard appeared at the edge of the lawn, his fingers digging into the shoulders of a servant girl.
The girl fought to get away from him. Her face was blotched and tearstained. Her golden brown braid danced angrily as she tried to punch and kick at him. She screamed again. “Help! Let go of me!”
Splinter’s eyes widened. He ran. Without hesitation. Without stumbling.
Ash’s blood grew cold. She didn’t always know how to stand up for herself, but she would not tolerate anyone else being hurt. “Not at my party.” She ran too, using her cane to propel herself forward.
The girl stamped on the guard’s foot just as Splinter dove for the man’s arm, trying to give the girl a way out. The guard caught the squire easily and sent him flying across the roses. Splinter landed in an awkward heap but scrambled back to his feet and charged with a shout.
“Stop it!” Ash’s voice drowned in the chaos around her. She slammed her cane against the back of the guard’s knee. Instead of making him stumble, she lost her own balance. By the time she’d straightened, Splinter had punched the guard hard and the girl broke free. Other guards, alerted by the shouts and fighting, came running across the grass.
With a loud roar, the rogue guard, blood streaming from his nose, rushed toward Ash. Splinter jumped in front of her, arms raised to protect her.
The guard swung at him, fury making him reckless.
Splinter blocked the first blow, his arms trembling under the impact, and the guard pulled back to swing again.
Ash seized the opportunity. She tore her mask down. “Don’t you dare.”
Her words echoed across the night and cut through the guard’s anger. She peeled off her gloves to show the royal crest on her finger, and he froze.
Two guards descended on him and dragged him to the edge of the lawn. A third guard tried to pull Splinter away from Ash, and when he resisted, the guard roughly pushed the squire’s mask aside.
The guard’s face tightened. “You.”
Underneath the mask, Splinter had freckles. A thin scar above the right eyebrow. And she scowled at the guard. “I didn’t do anything. Let me go.”
The guard tightened his grip. “Captain! It’s the DuLac girl!”
Splinter flinched, and a broad-shouldered guard with a blue captain’s band on his sleeve and a pronounced limp made his way over to the three of them. He’d been unsuccessfully trying to calm the servant girl. She was telling her story with big gestures, trembling hands, and loud determination. The captain handed her over to one of the other guards. He scratched his ear and frowned at Splinter before he turned to Ash.
Time slowed down as he recognized her. He sighed his relief and straightened, and that finally caused Splinter to turn as far as the guard would allow and really look at Ash.
The youngest DuLac. Ash shook her head. That was why Splinter’s leathers didn’t quite fit. They weren’t—they couldn’t be—hers. Though she had fought as bravely as any knight. “You’re the one who punched my brother.”
“You’re the princess,” Splinter said, at the exact same time. She looked confused and sad.
Ash pinned the guard holding Splinter with her gaze. She squared her shoulders. “Your captain heard what happened. Let . . .” Ash hesitated, remembering Splinter’s flinch at being identified. Her discomfort with Ash’s questions. She didn’t even know what Splinter’s given name was. “Let go.”
The guard wavered. “But highness . . .”
“No,” Ash said.
The guard captain cleared his throat. “It’s good to see you safe, but we should get you back to the party. We have to take statements, my lady. And this girl has a history of violence.”
Again Splinter flinched.
Ash narrowed her eyes. Maybe it wasn’t just the family name. But that wasn’t a conversation to have with guards present. “You should concern yourself with the violence of your guard and leave us.”
