36. Jess

Chapter 36

Jess

I reined Dittler to a halt, and my head spun toward every compass point, desperate for any landmark that might help my befuddled sense of direction. Clouds had obscured the moon and stars, leaving me alone in the dark with my stallion. Dittler’s heavy breathing and the chirping of a chorus of crickets were the only sounds to be heard.

I patted Dittler’s neck. He looked back with eyes wide and labored breaths, still exhilarated from the burst of speed he’d just displayed.

“Where are we, boy?”

After a moment of searching the land around, I decided to keep moving forward. It was as good as any direction in this wilderness.

As Dittler cantered forward, my racing heart and fear began to ease. I tried to roll my shoulders and stretch the tension from my neck, but my balance faltered as Dittler navigated the terrain.

There were still men hunting me, but I wouldn’t be a scared mouse anymore. I would find a way through all this, just like my father taught me.

Then my mind wandered to Keelan.

Had he and Atikus slowed to distract the men?

That was exactly the selfless sacrifice I might expect based on what the old Mage had told me of the Guardsman’s past.

Keelan kept his cards close, but he was an easy read.

He wanted to do well, to do good.

He wanted to be the hero.

He wanted to protect.

Spotting motives in the towering man was as easy as picking fruit from a tree. There was no guile in him, no courtly subterfuge. He was as open as any book left carelessly strewn atop tables in my father’s library.

There was a childlike innocence to Keelan. He was not childish, yet a sense of wonder at people and the world reminded me of my youngest brother, Kendall, and his reaction each time he saw something new. They shared the same curiosity, the same need to understand. I half expected the man to ask, “Why?” with the same incessant repetition as my little brother.

And then, there was Atikus.

One thought of the old Mage made me smile.

I could see his disheveled beard and even less obedient eyebrows.

His eyes had more emotion in them than most people had in their entire face.

The Mage bore no Gift of Charisma, yet he drew me to him. Whether telling stories of old or offering a gentle hand, he smiled freely and laughed even more so. Even throughout our flight from Cradle, Atikus remained upbeat and encouraging . . . or hungry .

I laughed out loud.

Dittler looked back, startled by my sudden outburst.

“It is all right, boy. I was thinking of Atikus.”

He snorted and shook his head as though he understood and shared my amusement. I blinked a few times, certain I had seen recognition in his eyes, then shook off the odd feeling and resumed my rumination.

Keelan.

His motives might be plainly scrawled across his forehead, but the man still felt like a mystery.

Where Atikus laid his thoughts and feelings out for all to see, Keelan barely acknowledged he even possessed emotions. I knew now that he was simply reserved, a product of his upbringing, but that didn’t make communicating with or understanding him any easier.

In the week or so I’d known him, the man had not shared anything about himself, always finding some way to turn conversations back toward me.

He is an investigator, a trained interrogator .

Was that what he was doing? Interrogating me?

A flash of anger fueled my next moments before I realized how silly it was to be mad at a man for asking about me, rather than droning on about himself the whole time. Spirits, how many times had I wished someone in the Palace would stop talking at me and actually talk with me?

I had a tall, handsome, strong, intelligent man who wanted to know more about me, what I felt, what I thought—and I was upset about that?

I suddenly felt foolishly fickle.

Keelan’s icy blue eyes found their way into my mind.

I sighed and stared into them, then waved them away in an annoyed huff.

There is no time for all of that. Besides, he barely cares for my company.

The clouds finally parted, revealing a bright, near-full moon.

Something tickled my nose.

A smell? No, a taste .

As soon as I opened my mouth, a salty tang teased my tongue. We were nearing the northern coast. We had not been separated from the others long enough to reach one of the nearest villages, so I expected to see barren, rocky cliffs soon. The ground near the cliffs became uneven and rough, hazardous to Dittler if we moved with any pace, so I drew him to a halt and dismounted.

“We should walk a bit, okay?” I scratched behind his ear. “Father brought me to see these shores when I was little. There is not much here, only a few hermits in their huts hiding from the world, but one of them might help. I doubt a solitary man will recognize my face.”

Dittler snorted and glanced back sharply.

“I swear you understand me.” I chuckled as a shiver ran up my arm with the chill ocean breeze. “Come on. I’m freezing.”

The ground transformed, and the cliffs emerged.

In the moonlight, I could see the ocean crashing and foaming into the rock-strewn shore. I stopped and savored the view, let it wash over me, let it renew my spirit.

What is it about the ocean that lifts even the heaviest burden?

We turned and followed the cliffs northeast toward the town of Kitchton and were rewarded with the outline of a modest, ramshackle house. The porch was missing boards and looked like the sea itself had battered its wood.

Or maybe the owner used driftwood to build the place?

I stepped to the door and tied Dittler to one of the rickety posts of the porch’s railing. After a moment’s hesitation, I knocked. “Hello, anyone here?”

Only the waves stirred.

I knocked louder. “Hello?”

Still nothing.

With my third knock, I pushed the door open. The clouds had parted, and moonlight streamed in through glassless windows. I shuddered as the ocean’s breath swept through. Dust and cobwebs blanketed the place. A table and two chairs sat to one side. Another chair lay tipped on its side. A cot, not wide enough for a person to turn on, nestled against the wall opposite, its stuffing half spilled. An ancient brass lamp lay on the floor beside the bed, its glass globe shattered beneath.

No one had lived there in a long time.

The boards protested as I strode through an opening to the hut’s only other room. I tried to step carefully, but it was useless. The place was falling apart, and its planks wept at its demise.

I found another table and a few surviving kitchen tools in the other room, along with a rusted wood-burning stove, a luxury in any commoner’s house .

How had someone out here afforded a stove?

And where would they even get wood to use it?

There was nothing for leagues but fields, rocks, and ocean.

I shook my head. None of that mattered. This would be a good a place to shelter for the night, and that’s all I cared about.

I walked out and gathered Dittler’s reins, tugging him toward the door. He pulled against me and whinnied.

“I know. I do not like it either, but you cannot stay out here in this cold with that wind. Let us hope the boards hold up under your weight.”

He snorted derisively and nipped at my coat.

I chuckled and playfully swatted him away. “Great. Now you choose to be sensitive about your weight? Come on. I will give you the last apple in my bag.”

The word “apple” allayed his fears. Moments later, we were inside and nesting for the night. I cleaned off the cot as best I could, spreading a blanket over what was left of the mattress, then snuggled up under my riding cloak and closed my eyes.

I would worry about tomorrow when the sun rose.

A velvety muzzle pressed against my face, as large, wet lips smeared slobber into my open mouth.

“Eww. Dittler!” I woke, spitting and rubbing my face with a sleeve. “I know my sweat tastes of salt, but did you have to stick your tongue down my throat?”

The horse whinnied in a way that sounded like laughter and nudged my arm with his nose.

“All right, fine. I’m getting up.”

Bright sunlight streamed through the windows as I looked around the cramped cottage. The place was falling apart worse than I remembered from the night before. I was amazed Dittler had not fallen through the flooring.

I walked the horse outside and fed him some oats from my saddlebag, then fished out dried meat and fruit for my own breakfast. A short time later, I was mounted and scanning the horizon, trying to decide which way to go.

“We must avoid the coast. I will be recognized if we go anywhere near Kitchton. Atikus said the cave was about halfway between Fersh and Kitchton, somewhere on the eastern shore. We can head that way and hope we find it—and them.”

Dittler snorted.

“Not helpful, but thank you for the support.” I stroked his neck as we trotted east.

We reached the road quickly.

I was distracted, lost in daydreams of a well-laid dinner table at the Palace.

My stomach grumbled as Dittler’s hooves clacked against the edge of the road, snapping me from my reverie. I scolded myself for not paying attention. Anyone could be on the road—or watching it for a runaway queen.

My head swiveled, searching for men lurking beyond the bend, but there was no one in sight.

I urged Dittler forward. “Come on, boy. I dislike being out in the open.”

We made it across, then another hundred paces before a voice called out.

“You there! Halt!”

A jolt shot up my spine.

I spun around to find three men, their snow-white cloaks flapping in the wind as they glared from atop their mounts.

“Nice and slow, miss. Hands where we can see ’em.” Two of the men trotted their horses toward me, careful to make a wide arc around either side to box me in. The third, the man who’d called out, remained on the road with his bow nocked but resting across his lap. “We’re Queen’s Guard, ma’am. Nothin’ to fear from us.”

“Sergeant, it’s her. It’s the Queen ,” one of the men shouted to the man on the road. He turned toward me, concern creasing the sun-scarred skin around his eyes, then bowed his head respectfully. “Your Majesty, are you all right? Are you hurt?”

I fought to lift my chin as my mother would. “I am quite well. What is the meaning of this? Surely, you do no mean to detain your Queen?”

The man’s brow quirked in confusion. “Your Majesty? I don’t understand. You were kidnapped and—”

“Nonsense! Do you see any captors? Am I wearing chains or ropes?” I raised my wrists as dramatically as I could, then lifted both eyebrows. Only then did I notice how dirty and road-worn I looked. Still, I persisted. “I see three men sworn to protect and serve the Crown delaying their monarch.”

As if on cue, Dittler let out an angry snort and stamped one hoof to the ground. The closest man nudged his horse back a stride. If I hadn’t been so afraid in the moment, I would’ve grinned at the stallion’s reaction.

The men looked to their sergeant.

They were likely sent to rescue a frightened, fragile, possibly injured sixteen-year-old girl. So they likely never expected to find a clear-headed young woman who radiated command. What were they supposed to do now?

The sergeant trotted his horse up and bowed his head. “My Queen, forgive us. We were sent by High Sheriff Wilfred to find and aid you. He believed your life was in danger, though he wouldn’t say from whom. Rumors are spreading throughout the land that you were kidnapped by two Melucians who disappeared from the encampment at Cradle. They are also suspected in the murder of the King and Prince.”

At the mention of my father and brother, my regal bearing faltered, and a bit of the damaged girl emerged. I tried to recover but couldn’t hide my torn emotions.

The sergeant’s eyes lowered, and his voice saddened. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Majesty. The Kingdom mourns with you.”

“Not the whole nation, Sergeant.” My eyes flared. “Ask my mother what happened to the King and Prince. The Royal Guard should be seeking their murderer, not chasing after the rightful ruler.”

“Your Majesty?” The sergeant’s jaw dropped as he looked to his companions.

One nodded. “Heard that one, too. There’s lots of rumors about what happened to the King and Prince floating out there. Most garbage, though.”

I shot the man an icy glare. “I assure you, Isabel is at the heart of this.”

When the men gawked in silence, I turned back to face the sergeant and stiffened my spine. “What are your intentions, Sergeant? Will you attempt to delay me?”

“Majesty . . .” He looked horrified and torn. “Our orders are to return you to the capital, to the safety of the Palace, to get you as far from the war as possible. That’s what the Sheriff said.”

“And if I order you to do otherwise?”

He faltered again. “I . . . I don’t know. We can’t just let you ride the countryside alone with war on the horizon, not after—”

“Enough. I have no time for this. Let me pass and be on my way. This conversation never happened. I order you to report a fruitless search. I was never found.”

The sergeant looked at each of his men, then drew a deep breath and returned his gaze to me.

“Your Majesty, please come back to the Palace with us. We have our orders and . . . I have a daughter about your age. The road is no place for a young girl, Queen or not.” He tried to add authority to his voice, but it came out more like a father’s desperate plea.

I was unused to being denied by men wearing Kingdom cloaks.

I gave the man credit for his backbone and intentions, but I was now Queen. How dare he defy my will.

I was about to express something to that effect when Dittler’s head snapped up and he danced a few steps, then looked purposefully at the other horses. I couldn’t imagine what he wanted—or that I was looking down and trying to understand my horse’s thoughts while facing three armed men.

I’m losing my mind out here.

When I didn’t react, Dittler whinnied urgently and looked from me to the other horses. The men watched the odd exchange with a mix of curiosity, confusion, and pity for their monarch who was clearly one slice shy of a full loaf.

I finally followed Dittler’s gaze and noticed the sergeant’s horse staring at me. His eyes were locked in a trance-like gaze.

On a whim, I thought, “Help me. Take your rider far from here.”

The horse blinked, snorted, then turned and bolted toward the road. The sergeant was so stunned that he fell from his mount after only a few strides, making it to his feet in time to see the beast run in the direction of Kitchton. His eyes were almost as wide as mine in that moment.

I had no idea what had just happened but wasn’t about to pass up a gift.

A Gift!

Of course.

Something clicked in my mind that had puzzled me for years. Animals had loved me since I was a little girl, but I never really gave it much thought. My Gift for endearing wildlife to me was quickly identified, but none of our Mages found practical uses for the skill beyond creating a bond with my mount. No one had even suggested I might one day be able to communicate with animals, much less compel them to act.

Seeing the sergeant’s horse respond to my mental plea, I began to understand the untapped potential of my power within.

I turned to the other two horses. Their eyes had remained locked on me the entire time as well. With a quick thought, I urged them to take their riders away.

There was no hesitation.

They leaped to obey.

From trot to canter to full sprint, the Protectors hollered and clung desperately all the way beyond my field of vision.

I peered at the sergeant, unable to contain a smug grin. “I will be on my way now. I trust we have no further business, Sergeant?”

The man shook his head, his eyes still wide. “No, Majesty. Please stay safe. We need you.”

I cocked my head at the sincerity pouring from the man, then nudged Dittler toward the eastern shore.