Chapter 16

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Chapter 16

As she'd watched Oriane take wing for the last time, regret had speared through Andala. It echoed the pain of her own transformation: complex, multifaceted, the dawn light glinting off its many sides, glancing sharply off its keen edges.

She had not had time to dwell on it. The moment Oriane's silhouette had disappeared in the distance, all hell had broken loose, and it had not let up since.

‘Tomas still does not suspect anything?' she asked Kitt quietly that afternoon, as they met in the corridor near his chambers.

His eyes darted around, checking no one was in earshot before he responded. ‘Of our involvement? No. He trusts me, and …' His tone turned apologetic. ‘Well, I'm sorry to say it, but I'm not sure he remembers you exist. Which is a good thing now, of—'

He broke off as a pair of chambermaids scurried past. They were so deep in their own muttered gossip that they barely spared a glance for Andala and Kitt. Still, he didn't continue until their voices had faded away.

‘But he knows someone was behind it. Windows do not smash of their own accord, especially when a treasure is stored behind them.'

They fell silent again as a group of guards marched past, heading with purpose in the direction of the great hall. Something reminiscent 122 of a command centre had been set up there by Terault, soldiers and servants summoned throughout the day to speak to him, receiving orders passed down from the king.

‘I've done my best to encourage the idea among the kitchen staff that it had something to do with those fanatics in the city,' she murmured to Kitt when the corridor was clear again. ‘There are so many rumours flying around among the servants that it's hard to keep up, but that one seems predominant at the moment.'

Kitt gave a curt nod. ‘Good. That's good. When Tomas orders them all rounded up and questioned, it will distract a good number of the guards for a while, and hopefully delay any more search parties.'

Andala lurched to an abrupt halt in the middle of the corridor. ‘Search parties?'

Kitt paused too, turned to face her. He seemed exhausted, as if he hadn't slept at all the previous night. ‘Terault has been arranging them. To go after her. They aren't sure precisely where in the woods her cottage is, but they have a direction, and Tomas is putting every pair of boots at his disposal on the ground to comb through them.'

He started off towards his rooms again, but Andala stayed where she was, feet bolted to the ground.

‘She'll keep running, though,' she said. ‘And she has a head start. They won't find her. Surely they won't.'

Kitt was silent. When he looked back to her, worry clouded his tired eyes. ‘They might.'

Andala swallowed. ‘So what do we do?' she asked, as they shut themselves away in Kitt's chambers. ‘Is there a way to stop them from tracking her? To slow them down, at least?'

But for the first time since she'd known him, Kitt had no answers, no plans to put in place. ‘I … I don't know,' he admitted. ‘I can't 123 get my head around it. Tomas …' He sank into the chair behind his desk, looking troubled, lost. ‘I just can't believe he's done this, any of it. Holding Oriane prisoner. Keeping some secret plan from everyone, from me … Sending people to hunt her down as if she's some kind of game bird. And the way he reacted this morning …'

He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to. Andala had seen the king herself as the skylark had taken to the skies once more. He had been unrecognisable, incandescent with fury.

‘I could have stopped all of this,' Kitt muttered, staring blankly at the desk before him. ‘I should have seen what was happening and stopped it before it went this far. I should—'

‘Hey,' Andala said sharply. Kitt looked up at her, eyes dark and regretful. He was in shock, she suspected. Tomas, after all, was not just his king, but his friend. ‘It's not your fault,' she went on, tone firm. ‘None of us realised just how desperate he was to keep her here. But now that we know, now that she's gone, it's up to us to figure out how to help her from afar. And when I say us , I mainly mean you, of course. You're the smart one. I need you – Oriane needs you – to pull yourself together and put that giant brain of yours to use.'

That got a faint smile out of him, as she'd hoped. She tried to return it, but the expression felt stiff and foreign on her face.

Later, after Andala had sung the world into darkness and slipped back unseen into the chaos of the palace, she returned to the solitude of her room.

She'd been ready to run again ever since she'd agreed, in a fit of guilt and sympathy, to help Oriane escape. But something was 124 stopping her, freezing her to the spot every time she thought about walking out the door.

They won't find her. Surely they won't.

They might.

Before she could think better of it, Andala stormed out of her room and down the corridor. She needed more information. And she knew where to go to find it.

The kitchens were as loud and bustling as she'd ever seen them. The gossips were in their element; nothing this monumental had occurred at the palace since Queen Heloise had succumbed to illness and her son had been crowned king. Andala hovered at the outskirts of the room, scanning faces until she spotted the one she was looking for: the cook's apprentice, whose rumours turned out to be true more often than not.

‘Ildrie,' she said as she approached, ignoring the look of mild surprise on the girl's face as she saw who'd hailed her. Andala rarely engaged in conversation with her fellow servants. ‘You always have your finger on the pulse of the palace. I find myself rather out of touch with what's been happening – care to fill me in?'

‘Well.' Ildrie puffed up importantly, hands stilling atop the dough she'd been vaguely kneading as she chattered. ‘You know what happened with the Lady Lark, of course …' She paused, considering Andala anew. ‘You were her maid, weren't you, Andala? Did you know what she was going to do?'

‘No,' Andala said, perhaps too quickly. ‘I had no idea. I was just as surprised as anyone.' Ildrie looked disappointed, but Andala forged on. ‘So, what is happening now? Will there be a … a search for the skylark, do you suppose?'

‘ Ah .' Ildrie gave a knowing nod. ‘Well. You didn't hear it from me, but …' She looked around furtively, and leaned in closer, as if she 125 hadn't undoubtedly shared her secret with half the staff already. ‘The searchers are already out there. The king's got his whole retinue on the job, guards and soldiers and all, and I've a friend in Aubrille who says that seneschal of his has been out in the city this afternoon, recruiting more hands for the task.'

Ildrie leaned back again, looking pleased with herself. Andala focused all her will on keeping her mask in place, despite her stomach clenching painfully in warning, or protest, or fear.

‘And have you heard what the king means to do with the skylark? If he finds her again?' she asked, forcing her voice to sound calm, her interest casual.

Ildrie shook her head, clearly frustrated; at last, something she did not know. ‘But,' she said, brightening, ‘those guards he sent to search? They meant business.'

A current of ice began to creep through Andala's blood, even before she heard the girl's next words.

‘I saw them with my own eyes, I did, all decked out with swords and weapons and the lot. You can mark my words, and no mistake: I don't know what he wants with the lark, but I know he'll stop at nothing till he finds her.'