Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

WREN

‘I didn't lie to Roland,' Anselm told Wren solemnly as they made their way to the armoury. ‘I swear that. My father will go to Castel Sassone in the lower city. It's a fortified stronghold, older than Pelias itself. Before the Aurum and the crown, we held that building. It is a fortress in its own right and armies have broken themselves on it. My ancestors held it in siege for years when the first queen Aelyn took Asteroth, and only relented with the promise of high office and royal marriages. Roland won't get in easily, but I can. While he's outside, distracting them, we'll rescue Elodie and get out. Easy.'

He made it sound like a childhood adventure, but his eyes were cold and hard. She didn't like it.

‘Easy,' she murmured, dubiously.

‘I know a secret way in. I grew up there, remember? Look, there are dungeons and there are tunnels, secret paths only the family know.'

‘And you couldn't tell Roland about them?'

He grinned, that familiar reckless grin coming back now he had a plan and others on his side. ‘He's hardly subtle, your father. He'd try to take an army through that mousehole. They would be on to him in seconds and cut him to pieces. It's up to us.'

A chill of concern spread up her back. This wasn't wise, was it? If it was Finn she wouldn't hesitate. But Anselm's father had taken Elodie, and now his son was proposing to enter their stronghold. And Wren was going with him. Not her cleverest move.

‘I wish Finn was here,' she said, without thinking. ‘He'd know what to do.' The two men looked at her, frowning. Well, if she hurt their pride so be it.

‘I know,' Anselm said at last, his voice softening a fraction. ‘I swear on my life, Wren, if you must come with me I will let no harm befall you and I will bring you back out safely again. He won't have you. I'd die first. Please believe me. I have to prove myself to your father again.' He raked his hand through his hair and sighed. ‘But I would rather you waited here.'

Of course he would.

‘That's not happening. You'll need help. Both of you.'

Olivier's smile turned gentle, indulgent, and she thought he would argue as well, though he seemed content to let Anselm take the lead. But then he didn't know what she could do, did he? Not really. He had heard rumours no doubt. But he didn't know the way Finn knew. Or Anselm. Anselm had been at Knightsford, and the Seven Sisters.

Wren changed briskly in the barracks, pulling on a pair of breeches and a tunic, while Olivier dug out a leather jerkin for her. It wasn't armour but it was something. Her hair was still short enough to pass for a boy's when tied back and some of the squires were the same size as she was. It should work.

Finn was going to kill her, she thought. Or never talk to her again. She feared it was nothing compared to what Roland would do. She could spend the rest of her days locked in her tower room, if she was caught.

And Anselm…Anselm could be headed straight for a dungeon. Him and Olivier both. As for Carlotta…Wren didn't know what they might do to a servant. Nothing good.

But she had to do something. Finn wasn't here. Roland was bent on a full frontal assault on whatever stood in his way. She had to find Elodie. Quickly and quietly as possible.

Carlotta cleared her throat. ‘The servants' stairs are clear. They'll bring you out by the postern gate to the palace walls. I can show you.'

‘And then you wait for us there, all right?' Wren said firmly. It was bad enough she had to put Olivier in this danger – not that he would be anywhere else – but she wasn't risking the only other friend she had made here in Pelias.

‘But I can help, my lady.'

‘Wren,' Wren told her absently. ‘And you can help by keeping our plans secret. And by waiting to let us back in.'

‘But I…' Carlotta embraced Wren suddenly, pulling her close. She pressed a little knot of straw and dried flowers into Wren's hand. It looked like a bird. ‘It's not much, but it will help. It will remind you of who you are, Wren. For luck.'

It was a charm, such as hedge witches made everywhere. Wren had seen Elodie's, learned to make them herself but it was something she had thought left far behind in Thirbridge.

The revelation made Wren stiffen in Carlotta's arms and open her eyes wide. There was an aura of something around the maid. She knew herbs and cures, and where to find certain flowers. And clearly she could make a memory charm. But she wasn't strong.

That didn't change what she was.

We are witchkind. We will live free or we die.

There were other witches in the world. Wren knew the stories about the rebel witches who didn't serve Aurum or Nox, who lived in the wild and didn't bow to anyone. She thought they would be strong and dangerous. People spoke of the witchkind of Garios as if they were monsters, inhuman, beings of enormous power. And when they mentioned the College of Winter, it was as somewhere austere and terrible, where people sought secret truths and honed their skills beyond anything else save the Chosen of the Aurum. They were masters of magic, wielding untold power. That was what witchkind was. Not a small girl with too large eyes and barely a scrap of power compared to herself, or Elodie, or the maidens. No wonder Carlotta had gone unnoticed. How was she here in the palace, living and working and hiding…?

If the knights found out…

Wren glanced at the two men to find them deep in a conversation of their own, a hushed and hurried argument from the looks of it.

An admission like that in Pelias was liable to get Carlotta locked away, or handed over to the Maidens of the Aurum for the rest of her life. If that was all she would be lucky. No wonder she had been terrified when Wren had thoughtlessly dragged her into the Sanctum behind her.

‘I need you to stay here and be safe,' she said urgently to Carlotta. ‘Watch for us coming back. And if we don't, you go and tell Lynette everything, all right?' And that might be as dangerous a mission as their own. Lynette would be furious. And then Lynette would tell Ylena. And who knew if anyone would survive that.

Wren turned to the others. ‘Anselm? Are you ready?'

‘You should stay here as well,' Olivier told her, but he didn't seem quite so adamant now.

‘You know what I am, what I can do?' she said bluntly. ‘You know it better than anyone, don't you? Were you born with magic?' He sucked in a breath to hear that. Well, it was almost as shocking as Carlotta's had been in its own way. Then he nodded slowly.

‘I gave it up, to the Aurum. As all men must.' It was their tradition she recalled. Women joined the Maidens of the Aurum and men surrendered what little magic they had in them back to the flames. Most became knights. Others just left. There didn't seem to be any choice in the matter but none of them seemed to care about that.

‘I… I'm sorry.'

Olivier frowned, clearly baffled. ‘Why? I'm not.'

She had to keep reminding herself that she was not only her powers. That she controlled them and not the other way around, just as Maryn had said. She closed her hand around the little charm and felt its shape imprint on her palm. He might have given up the magic he was born with, but she never would. She couldn't. But that didn't mean she should let them control her. Or expect anyone else to welcome such powers.

They left the palace in silence, leaving Carlotta as promised at the unmanned gate. If there were normally guards there, they were gone now, whether with Sassone or Roland. Anselm took the lead. ‘He'll be keeping her in his dungeons.'

‘And torturing her?' Wren had to force herself to say it.

His stalwart expression faded. Something else ghosted across his face. ‘Yes. I expect so.'

‘ Why , Anselm?'

He shook his head as if to say he didn't know. ‘We ruled this city once, my family, warlords and robber barons, long before the Aurum was brought here. He wants to go back to that, and as regent he had a taste of it. And more than that…I think he truly believes what he says, that Queen Aeryn deserted and betrayed us all. He knows her to be a traitor and he will not listen to reason. Her trial didn't go as he intended and the Aurum forgave her any transgressions. He's going to try to prove it wrong, by whatever means necessary.'

There wasn't really anything to say to that, Wren decided. She didn't know what had happened all those years ago, no more than she knew why Elodie had never returned, preferring to live in the wilds of Cellandre rather than wear her crown and rule, why she had preferred the life of a hedge witch to that of a queen.

‘We should hurry,' she told him and that was that.

Thankfully, Anselm didn't argue anymore and Olivier followed his lead.

They trailed after him out into the city. To his father's halls. To Elodie.