25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Aliya

A liya peeked out from under her hood at the long line of humanity waiting to enter Lions Grove. The queue stretched over a quarter mile, each merchant, traveler, or artisan hoping for admittance into the King's city to better their fortunes. When she'd last been here—was it only a little over six weeks ago—her wedding procession skipped the wait and marched right through the gates.

This time, she hoped for a much more inconspicuous entrance.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she pictured the letter she'd found slipped under the door of the inn she'd stayed at the previous night.

Your Majesty, We will meet you in Lions Grove on the morning of the Solstice, at the corner of Park and Oak, two hours after sunrise. Long Live the Queen. -M.U.

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and pushed the note from her thoughts.

The crows cawed, circling above, their attention focused on the bodies strung across the way like Yuletide garland.

Covering her nose, she winced. She didn't remember this gate into the city smelling quite so…ripe before.

The line shuffled a few steps forward. Her gaze slipped to those gruesome decorations.

Oh, gods. Her heart froze and plunged to her feet.

Those were her father's men. The birds had long since pecked out their eyes. The soldiers had been tortured prior to being hung to rot in the late spring sun.

Aliya slapped a hand over her mouth as her gorge rose. Her chest burned, and she couldn't breathe. Against her will, she searched their faces. There he was. Hart. And next to him, Captain Davin.

Her eyes stung as her vision turned watery. She ducked her head, blinking as the world tilted sideways and fought to keep her balance. This was a message she alone would understand.

The rest of the gates to the city were doubtless adorned in a similar fashion.

Likely, none of her father's men had survived. Her father was probably dead, as well. Her guts twisted. The baron hadn't been the best person, but he'd raised her, and hadn't packed her straight off to the Mage College when her magic first manifested like the law demanded. He'd protected her, at least, for a while. She hadn't wanted him dead. Malkov hadn't been bluffing, and she'd refused to believe him. Their deaths were all on her hands.

Her stomach curled in on itself until she was nothing but a hollow shell. The bitter taste of bile burned her throat.

If any of the Larimar men still lived, they'd more likely curse her name rather than welcome her rescue. But she wouldn't be able to sleep until she confirmed none of the Larimar's people still suffered.

She'd never forgive herself.

A heavy hand rested on her shoulder.

She jumped, spinning away from the contact.

"It's a shame, isn't it?" The man behind her, a farmer judging by his wagon full of grain, met her gaze with a sorrowful one of his own. "They've been up there over a week, with no sign the King plans on ordering them cut down." He took a deep breath and dropped his voice. "Reduced to carrion. It's a bad omen for the solstice, mark my words."

It was all her fault. Her limbs went numb. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded before turning her back on the old man. Speaking was beyond her at the moment. Bracing herself, she took a shambling stride as the line moved.

She could do this. Malkov wanted to break her, but he'd only succeeded in making her angry. Revenge would be hers. For Elessan, Lady Cressida, her father's men, and all the magic users Malkov had killed.

She pressed her teeth together. Standing straight, she wiped the tear tracks from her cheeks then steeled her muscles against the reek and the sound of the birds' cawing.

"Hurry up, step forward!" The guard glared at her.

She licked her lips, taking two strides to face him.

"Name, and business in the city?"

"Cressida Smith. Here to visit my aunt."

The guard's gaze roved from her feet to the tip of her head. He frowned. "No luggage? Or supplies?"

Aliya shook her head, grateful her freckled skin and brown hair didn't resemble her favored appearance. "I'm only here for a few nights. Better to travel light."

The man's lips thinned as he gave her a final once-over. The silence between them stretched until Aliya's heart beat so loud it threatened to explode right out of her chest.

"Very well." He handed her a slip of paper. "Your pass is valid for two days. If you overstay, you'll be subject to arrest and the king's justice."

She snatched the strip, trying to keep her hands from shaking. Turning her back to the guard, Aliya stepped into Lions Grove.

She'd never expected to willingly return. Especially knowing Malkov could astral project at any moment and realize where she was.

Mentally crossing her fingers, she hurried down the street. The sooner she got this taken care of, the less likely it was that he would discover she was here.

Her stomach growled as the scent of cooked meat drifted to her nose. After more than a week of subsisting on the berries and edible plants Elessan had shown her, the prospect of eating something non-vegetarian sounded divine. From what she remembered, the market was in the northern part of the city. Chewing the inside of her lip, she turned left at the first major intersection she encountered.

The avenue was broad, on account of the heavy flow of traffic. The buildings on either side, however, were narrow and packed together. Some tenements looked like they would tip over at the slightest gust of wind. Entryways sported curtains rather than wooden doors, and none of the windows contained glass.

Aliya blinked. It should be inexcusable for people to be forced to endure this in the capital.

Partially hidden behind a half-rotten slab of fabric dangling from a window were the painted words Long Live Queen Aliya!

Her heart soared as she bit back a smile. The task ahead didn't feel so heavy knowing she had support, even if they were hiding in the alleys and backstreets.

Across the way, another board declared, Death to Mages!

A weight pressed against her shoulders, squeezing her chest until it shriveled and she couldn't breathe. Even if she did manage to murder King Malkov, she had quite a battle in front of her before mages were truly accepted into society.

Before she would be accepted.

Dirty kids ran down the road, weaving between carts and traffic. Underneath her cloak, Aliya clutched her purse, tied to her belt. Her father's men often spoke about street children being skilled thieves. Considering how little she had, she would need to guard every coin.

A one-legged man in a filthy shawl and a tin cup sat next to one of the walls. A flat rock on which he'd written "War veteran, please help" in gray paint was propped up against the stump of his leg.

Aliya's gut twisted. There were probably hundreds, if not thousands, of soldiers on both sides wounded or dead since her wedding day. That many more widows and orphans she was responsible for because she'd been too cowardly to face Malkov then. Her shoulders collapsed, unable to bear the weight settling in her stomach.

She pulled out a precious copper piece and dropped it into the man's tin cup. The clank echoed off the surrounding walls.

The man looked up between oily clumps of hair, one half of his face horribly scarred and squinted at her with one good eye. "Bless you, lady."

She backed away as the water in her eyes overflowed and spilled down her cheeks. He'd never thank her if he knew she was responsible for the prolongation of the war. Spinning on her heel, she strode away before the sound of her coin in his cup caught anyone else's attention.

The street continued, becoming narrower after each intersection, the ramshackle houses crowding further into the roadway. The cobblestones ended, leaving the ground rough with ruts and potholes. A group of older kids congregated outside one of the larger buildings up ahead. A predatory glint sparkled in the eye of the tallest one as he jumped from the barrel he'd been holding court upon. He flashed yellowed teeth at her.

Her heart skipped a beat as the hair on the back of her neck prickled. She shouldn't be here.

Valek. She must have missed the turn to the market.

Pulling a small kernel of her magic to bear, she spun on her heel and headed back the way she'd come.

"Hey lady!" one of the youths called. "These are our streets. You wanna walk ‘em, you pay the toll like everyone else."

What would Elessan do?

She didn't stop, and soon footsteps sounded behind her.

"Lady, I'm talking to you!"

She turned as the oldest boy reached her. He held a knife in his right hand, and a purse in his left. The youth leered at her, taking in her dusty cloak and patch-free clothes.

She frowned as her heart doubled its pace. Surely, they couldn't want money from her, too.

"It costs two silvers to walk down this road."

Well, there was her answer.

She didn't have any more silvers. Aliya studied the other five boys in the group. This must be one of those street gangs Hart had mentioned back when they were younger. Before they'd grown up and life forced them onto different paths.

Her gut twisted at the reminder of his fate.

"I don't have any coins," she said. "But if you give me directions to the market, I can owe you a favor."

The leader pulled a knife from his belt and pointed it at her. Its blade, longer than her hand, flashed in the morning light. "Think yer too good to pay yer way like everyone else?" He gestured to her with the weapon. "Get her, boys! Let's show her what happens to people who trespass and refuse the toll."

Two of the larger goons lunged forward, arms outstretched.

She scrambled backward, holding up her hand and igniting her magic. Fire burst from her palm. "Get away from me!"

The two attackers froze, their gaze flashing between her and their boss.

The leader's eyes widened. Her conjured flames reflected in his pupils. He stepped back, waving for the rest of them to flank her.

Her second hand exploded in fire before forming a crackling shield as Cressida taught her. "Touch me, and you'll regret it."

One of the boys charged her from behind, swinging a club at her head. She ducked, throwing the conflagration into him. He collapsed screaming, hands hiding his face. The others took a step back, eyes round, looking to their leader.

He waved them forward with his knife. "Come on, you cowards! She's just a girl. Get her!"

One with black hair and a gray tunic shook his head and staggered backward. "She's got magic, Kale!"

"So, we catch her and turn her over to the king. The gold he'll pay us will make us the top gang in the neighborhood."

Aliya licked her lips and swallowed. Malkov posted bounties for any mage now? That didn't bode well at all.

She adjusted her stance and lit another, larger fire in her empty hand. "I think you'll find me a little more challenging than your standard girl on the streets." She hurled her power at the boy the others called Kale.

A few blocks away, a chorus of bells clanged.

Kale swore, ducking the fireball. The flames sputtered out in a small crater further down the block.

One of the other boys glanced over his shoulder. "Quick! We need to clear out before the guards come."

Kale snarled. "The sentries don't come down here. This is our territory."

"But the alarm!"

"Ignore them. Bring me the mage."

Aliya threw four fireballs at the remaining gang members behind her. Two dropped to the ground, tunics on fire. The other pair ran off down the street. She turned and took a step toward Kale. The teen didn't flinch.

Her magic wasn't having the desired effect. Time to change her strategy. What would Elessan do?

She held her hand over her head and pointed at the sky. "I can summon the guards, if you don't back off. They'll tear this neighborhood apart looking for me. I'm sure there are plenty of things here you would rather they didn't find." Hopefully, the boy wouldn't call her bluff…the last thing she needed was Malkov realizing she was in the city.

Kale paled.

Raising a wall of flames around them, she cut off his escape. She gave him a thin-lipped smile, being careful to keep her fire shield between him and her. "Now, directions to the marketplace, please."

The sun had climbed a finger's width higher in the sky when Aliya ducked into the shadow of one of the market booths, gaping at the changes. In the middle of the space stood a wooden platform, with a red-stained chopping block.

A bitter taste burned the back of her throat. Apparently public executions had become so commonplace they needed a permanent structure.

The shoppers seemed almost fervent with the intensity of which they went about their shopping before slinking out of the square, always trying to avoid looking at the intrusive dais. A high percentage of stalls sat vacant. Even the few remaining vendors' calls to entice patrons rang hollow. She'd never imagined a bazaar so subdued and empty.

Guards in black and red uniforms posted at each of the four entrances scrutinized everyone who came and went.

Aliya hunched her shoulders and pulled her hood over her face, mimicking the body language of the other customers. Her stomach growled as the aroma of spiced meat tickled her nose. Hopefully the cook's prices weren't too unreasonable.

She circled around, staying as far away from the execution platform as possible. The cantina was about halfway across the square. Smoke billowed from underneath the awning.

Several benches with tables spread in front of the stall, as though the owner normally enjoyed a thriving business. Today, however, the chairs sat abandoned.

Aliya waited while the one customer ahead of her paid for their wrapped food and scurried off. She stepped up to the counter, purse in hand. "How much for lunch?"

The cook studied her, eyeing her outfit.

Dang it. Did everyone alter their charges based on their patrons' appearances? She needed to purchase a tunic in the poorer district before she went to find lodging. Hopefully, at an inn Malkov wouldn't recognize. With her luck, he'd creep into her dreams and discover exactly where she was. Her room would be filled with soldiers when she awoke.

"A silver."

Seriously? Aliya sighed and turned away, shoulders slumped.

"Wait. Girl."

She glanced back at him.

He shook his head and waved her back. "I'm sorry. Business has been rather slow as of late, courtesy of the war. What have you got?"

She pulled out three coppers.

The man exhaled and motioned with his head for her to come back. "I think I can whip something up."

She set the coins on the counter with a sigh. "Thank you."

The cook wrapped up a chunk of meat and some bread, handing her the package.

Before he could change his mind, she grabbed the food. Her mouth watered. "Thanks. Is it okay if I sit and eat here?"

The man shrugged. "Sure. The tables are clean."

She picked the one closest to the stall. No need to draw attention by being out in the open. As she ate the meal—it tasted just as good as it smelled—she stared at the castle off in the distance. She would have to figure out a way to sneak inside and down to the dungeons without getting caught, and free any prisoners she found along the way.

Taking a deep breath, she deflated as she studied the ring on her finger.

Sure. No difficult task for just one person. Not at all. Then the next day, as icing on the cake, she'd have to find Malkov, and fulfill her Irrevocable Vow to kill him.

Life would be easier if she could go back to her father's estate up north and pretend none of this ever happened. She sighed. If she did that, and somehow survived failing to execute the vow, her father would just hand her over to the king again. She'd be right back where she started. Assuming her father was even still alive.

The city had changed so much, it was possible things in the castle were different, too. Maybe all the servants, the nobles, would be gone? And it would just be her and Malkov.

And however many magic users he'd fed on in the last few weeks to boost his power.

She buried her face in her hands. She couldn't do this. If she had a month to plan, and coin enough to survive on, it might be feasible.

The solstice was in two days. Killing the king on the first day of summer would make a solid statement.

And he wouldn't expect her to go on the offensive.

"Girl," the cantina owner said, "are you okay?"

She lifted her face to meet his gaze. "No. But I will be, thank you."

The corners of his mouth dipped. "Are you sure? Anything I can do?"

"No. Wait. Yes. I need somewhere to stay for the next few nights. An inexpensive, but safe place. Any recommendations?"

"How cheap?"

She peeked at her last two coppers and bit her lip. "A copper a night?"

The man exhaled in a rush as he dragged his hand over his face. "You won't find an inn for so little, with things being the way they are now." He leaned to the side, glancing into his stall. "You have nowhere else to go?"

She shook her head.

"You any good in a fight?"

She nodded.

He studied her, obviously searching for weapons. Aliya crossed her arms and met his gaze with a hard glare of her own.

"I'll tell you what, girl. There's a cot back here. I've got a wife I haven't seen in the last week because of all the looters coming into the market at night. If you can stay here, protect the business from thieves, and everything is still intact in the morning, I'll feed you breakfast. Deal?" He stepped forward and held out his hand.

She smiled, flashing him a wide grin as she shook it. "Agreed. Thank you."

The man nodded and the ghost of a smile passed over his face. "The wife'll be happy to see me, I think." He dropped his voice. "Hope I'm not making a mistake."

Popping some bread into her mouth, she groaned as herbed butter coated her tongue. "I promise, your stall will be safe." Her stomach would guarantee it.

The next morning, Aliya rubbed her eyes and stretched as the owner, Pat, walked in.

"Good day. Any excitement last night?"

Pushing herself off the cot, she threw a glance at the sword he'd left her after she'd demonstrated she could handle the blade. At least she managed to clean all the blood off. "A little. A few kids looking to score some quick food. They ran away when they realized someone was still here." And that she'd been armed. Pat probably wouldn't have problems with looters again for a good long while.

And, since she hadn't slept much, Malkov hadn't had the chance to slip into her mind.

The owner nodded. "Excellent." He turned to study the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "So, what would you like for breakfast? Steak? Eggs?"

Aliya's mouth watered. Both? Just for protecting his market stall? "Yes, please."

With a chuckle, he ignited the griddle. "May as well eat it before they start rationing, right?"

She raised an eyebrow. Limiting food? One more reason to end the war as quickly as possible. "Did you surprise your wife?"

"Oh, ho, ho! Did I ever! I was in trouble until I told her I hired someone to guard the restaurant for the night, and I'd promised to pay with breakfast, not money." The side of his mouth pulled up in a smile that lit his eyes. "Then, well…it was a remarkable evening."

She smiled. At least he'd had a decent night. She missed Elessan. Their last night together would live in her memories, too.

Pat threw some meat on the skillet, where it sizzled and spat little drops of oil. "Pork chops okay?"

"If they taste as good as what you gave me yesterday, I'll take whatever."

He raised a playful eyebrow at her. "Anything?"

There was something in his tone… "Maybe?"

He burst out laughing. "Be careful what you say, girl. Another cook would give you rat without a second thought."

Aliya gagged, slapping her hand over her mouth. "Seriously?"

Nodding, he said, "Always make sure you ask what kind of grub you're eating. Unless it's a solid piece like this." He gestured to the slab. "No way this massive thing came off something that small."

By the seven gods. She'd been hungry the last few weeks, but at no point would the concept of rodent meat have appealed to her. If Elessan hadn't taught her the edible berries and plants… "If they're starving, a person will eat anything, I suppose?"

Pat cracked open a couple of eggs and added them to the griddle along with a handful of vegetables and a pinch of pepper. Moments later, he set a plate down in front of her with a steaming pork chop smothered in gravy and an omelet.

Aliya dug in. "This is so delicious," she said in between bites. "Why aren't you cooking at the castle?"

A shadow covered his face, and his expression closed off. "I like it right where I am."

She blinked at his lie and started to ask, but he turned his back to her. No more discussion along those lines, then. Not if she wanted to keep this arrangement for another night.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It was none of my business."

Pat kept quiet as he puttered around the kitchen, prepping for the day.

Popping the last morsels into her mouth, she swallowed. "Exquisite." She waited for his nod of acknowledgment. "I'd love to arrange the same deal for tonight, if you think it worked well?"

Pat glanced at her, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Of course. I didn't catch your name?"

"Cressida," she said. "Cressida Smith."

"Very well, Cressida. I'll meet you here at sundown."

Standing, she brushed her hands on her trousers. "Have a great day!"

He raised his eyebrow. "Where are you off to?"

"I need to see a man about a horse," she lied as she ducked out the door.