26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Aliya

A liya lay on the roof of the building across the way from the principal gate to the castle. Her spot was in the shade when she first climbed up here, but the sun's slow journey devoured her shelter.

So far, the guards were alert at the gate, scrutinizing everyone who entered. She squinted into the sky again. Shift change wouldn't be for another half hour or so. Hopefully the midday workers would be more lax.

Here came the two men patrolling the parapet again.

She checked the progress of the shadows. They passed by every fifteen minutes or so. These didn't appear as alert as the ones on the ground, but unlike their colleagues, they marched in the sun, in full armor. Those heavy black tunics had to be dreadfully hot.

So…how should she do this? It would be easy enough for her to sneak into the dungeon and back out. The throne room was going to be problematic. To her knowledge, there was no direct route there from the lower levels. If security captured her and figured out who she was, they'd lock her in the dungeon until Malkov got around to killing her. She'd be in a much better position if she picked the time and caught him by surprise.

She'd launch a two-pronged attack. One today to clear the dungeons, and the second tomorrow to reach the King.

Aliya glared at the castle wall. She had no gift for climbing. And even if she did, the ramparts were too high for her to scale up and down in the fifteen-minute guard rotations.

It was too bad she hadn't had time to fully master her magic…carrying weapons seriously limited her shapeshifting options. As a mouse or a rat it would've been easy to sneak inside.

And where were those mages? Solstice was tomorrow. It would be nice to have additional input to help plan. Or to know how many of them would be able to back her up.

She pushed herself up from the roof. No time like the present for freeing prisoners. If she got lucky, it would throw Malkov off-balance.

She shimmied down the eaves and drainpipe on the back of the building. There should be a sewer grate around here somewhere, in an alley far enough out of sight she could use it even at midday. Even the dungeons had sewage to dispose of. She should be able to sneak in there…as long as she didn't think too hard about what she was walking through.

The opening was right where she expected, behind one of the larger taverns. She latched onto it with her fingers and yanked. The casting shifted with a creak but didn't release. Bracing herself and squatting, she glanced over her shoulder toward the street and tugged harder. Come on, come on! With a screech of metal on stone, the grill lifted.

Thank the mages.

She set the oversized disc aside and sprinted across the alley to hide behind a discarded barrel. When her feet began to tingle with numbness and no one came to investigate the commotion, she approached the gaping hole. A hidden weight in her chest suddenly lifted at the liberty of standing up to Malkov instead of running away. With a deep breath, she jumped into the passage.

Her feet splashed foul-smelling liquid over her trousers. She pulled the neckline of her tunic over her nose. The damp air raised goosebumps on her exposed skin.

Hopefully any prisoners she rescued wouldn't mind a short jaunt through the city's bowels.

A few more steps, and she maneuvered herself to the side of the tunnel, where the putrid liquid was shallower. Holding some flames in one hand to provide light, she edged forward. As she approached the palace, the stink bothered her less. Maybe she was getting used to it.

Ugh. She'd need to find a bath tonight before she set foot in the cantina. Otherwise, her reek alone would keep customers away for weeks. Poor Pat. At least it would work on the looters, too.

The sewer ended at a garbage chute large enough to dispose of dead prisoners. Aliya shuddered. She sent the fireball up to scorch the sides clean, careful to keep the light from the far end, in case someone was watching. The edges had been smooth at one time. However, centuries of use left scars that would make climbing the pipe, if distasteful, not impossible.

Pulling the ball of fire back behind her, she pulled a knee over the lip and heaved. Her pants soaked through with whatever slime last graced the stones with its presence.

Yuck. Yuck-yuck-yuck.

Closing her eyes, she pressed forward. She'd need a completely new set of clothes after the bath, too.

As she reached the top of the incline, she extinguished her fire.

Apparently, she needn't have worried. The room beyond was pitch black. No one was around to raise the alarm. Lifting the lid, she emerged into the dungeon's guard room. A table with an abandoned deck of cards and a few stools stood off to one side. A few sets of manacles hung from random pegs set in between the masonry.

The guards were nowhere to be seen. Not that she was complaining.

She shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth and waste the golden opportunity. But she'd keep the cover for the chute open for a quicker exit, just in case.

The hallway outside consisted of shallow stairs circling around, down to the lower level on the right, and up to the left. No doubt, less important prisoners would be above, with the more dangerous ones below.

The air smelled of mold, rot, and unwashed bodies with a faint undertone of old blood. The smooth grey stones that lined the walls were stained with lichens and soot from countless torches that had passed by over the centuries. The weight of the castle above pressed down on her shoulders as she fought the urge to curl in on herself in response.

She lit another fireball in one palm, giving the room a quick once-over. The guards wouldn't be careless enough to leave the keys to the cells lying about, but it never hurt to double-check. Several minutes later, she sighed. Nothing. Time to quit stalling and move, before someone found her here.

A cold draft flew up from below. It smelled of mildew and human excrement. She shuddered. To the top level first.

The torches along the stairwell and hallway beyond were barely burnt. Someone had been through less than an hour ago. Which made no difference, because she had no idea when the dungeon guards' rotations were.

Footsteps echoed as she approached the first cell, but the cobbled walls made it impossible to tell if they were coming from in front or behind her. The first stall's door was unlocked. It swung open without complaint.

Thank goodness for sufficient pig fat to lubricate the hinges.

She pressed herself flat against the wall on the other side of the door and waited as the two guards strolled past. The straw on the ground smelled fresh. She poked at it with her toe, revealing a dark black stain coating the floor. Dipping her head, she muttered a quick prayer for the cell's former occupant.

"Lunch time, you dogs." Clangs of tin plates or bowls scraping across the stone interrupted the oppressive atmosphere. A few curses, more creative than any she'd heard before, followed the guards. Someone was still alive down here.

She gave the departing wardens a count to one hundred before she slipped back into the passage. The first cell housed a woman. Someone in the working class, judging from the color of her skin and the wrinkles on her hands and face.

The prisoner peered at her with dead eyes. White manacles clanked around her ankles.

"Why are you here?" Aliya asked.

The woman shrugged, turning away. "Practicing magic," she mumbled. The handcuffs clinked.

Aliya bit her lower lip. She hadn't realized mages might be in the dungeon. But the king would have to store them somewhere if he didn't kill them right away.

Aliya studied the lock. It seemed standard, a metal of some sort, but not that cursed white stuff, antimonite. She should be able to heat the mechanism enough to melt. Getting those bindings off the prisoner was going to be a problem, though. She'd need the keys.

"Stay here," she said. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

The next door held a familiar face. "Psst! Hey, Torsen. Torsen!"

The older guard glanced up from his porridge and peered through the bars. He grunted. "Do I know you?"

Right. He wouldn't recognize her in her servant girl form. She shook her head, brushing his question aside. "Where's Baron Larimar?"

The man shrugged. "Dunno. Haven't seen him since they tossed us down here to rot."

She glanced down the hallway at all the closed doors. "How many of you are left?"

He gave her a half shrug. "Only a handful, less than ten."

Her knees went weak and she braced herself against the wall. At least some of the Larimar guards survived. "Everyone's up here? Is there anyone in the lower levels?"

"I don't know." He shoved some of the gruel into his mouth with dirty fingers.

"If I free you, can you lead everyone out of here?"

Fire sparked in the old guard's eyes. He pushed himself off the floor, porridge forgotten. "I can, if you give me directions. Won't do much good to run right back to the King's guards."

Putting her hands over the lock, she conjured heat. "Stand back from the door." The metal turned red under her palm. When she judged it hot enough to be malleable, she yanked. The latch gave with a snap and the door swung open.

Torsen stepped into the hall, his eyes blinking furiously and his jaw loose. "Who are you? What happened?"

"No time," Aliya said, moving to the next door and repeating the process. "How long until the guards come through?"

Torsen glanced back. "They'll come back in ten or fifteen minutes to collect the food trays."

Aliya wrenched another door open. She had an idea. "Perfect."

Soon, seven of her father's soldiers stood at attention in the hallway, along with two other men and the woman. The last three were in those cursed iron manacles.

"Everyone, come with me." Aliya waved for them to follow her down to the guards' room, still blessedly empty. She pointed to the garbage chute. "In there. Be careful, it's slick. The pipe goes about fifty paces down and will spit you out into the catacombs." She gave Torsen instructions to the grate she'd left open before turning to the three magic users. "Wait for me. I'll be down with the keys to the shackles as soon as I can." She managed to keep the tremble from her voice.

Once the final prisoner disappeared down the chute, Aliya returned to the corridor. With a deep breath, she adjusted her appearance to match Malkov's dark hair and the cruel sneer he'd given her on her wedding day. She had no mirror to double check, but hopefully it would pass if she got the physicality and tone of voice correct. And if the guards overlooked her stench and clothing.

She headed down the stairs.

The stink grew sharper as she descended. The air became chill and damp, almost sticky. Aliya fought the instinct to rub her forearms to ward off the cold. Her current shape would never do anything so uncouth.

The two guards she noted before hovered at the end of the hall, in front of a metal door.

An iron door.

There was only one reason to build an iron door in a dungeon. Whatever mage was behind there would undoubtedly be powerful, and a potentially valuable ally.

The men froze as she came into view, saluting then bending at the waist.

She walked up to them, crossing her arms over her chest. "Report."

"King Malkov," the guard on the right stammered as he eyed her clothes. "We didn't expect you until tomorrow."

Aliya pursed her lips together and glared at him. "I don't owe you an explanation. How's our prisoner today?"

"Um, as well as can be expected, Your Majesty. For a shadow dragon."

A what? She fought to keep a straight face.

The older man shot a glance at his companion before staring at her feet. "Would you like the mages moved? Or prepped?"

Prepped? She didn't want to know. Aliya reached out. "Keys."

The officer jerked them from his belt and cursed as they clattered to the ground. Biting his lips, he picked them up and set the jangling latchkeys in her hands.

She stared at the iron lock. "Which one opens this door?"

The guards' faces went pale. "This one, Your Majesty?"

Aliya fixed him with a hard glare to mask the churning in her gut. "Did I stutter, Warden?"

With a trembling hand, the guard selected one key and held it up. Excellent. Though based on their reaction, maybe it was best to wait to open it until she determined what a shadow dragon was.

"Unlock the other doors in this wing."

The man blinked at her.

"Now, Warden."

"But Your Majesty. The prisoners."

"Do you think the two of you and I can't handle," she glanced behind her, counting, "five convicts on our own?"

"Of course not, Your Majesty." The officer reclaimed the keys and went down the hallway, unlocking each of the doors as he sent inscrutable glances her way over his shoulder. "Shall we escort them up to The Chamber for you?"

Aliya repressed a shudder.

"Your Majesty?" They both studied her with keen eyes.

Valek. She shouldn't have reacted to their offer like she had. She wasn't as skilled an actress as she'd hoped. She had to salvage this, or they'd all be dead.

"One moment." She dragged the prisoner closest to her out of his cell and threw him against the wall. She drew back her fist to punch the unfortunate man in the gut but froze when she looked into his sunken eyes.

She couldn't add to his suffering.

And the warden doubtless noticed her hesitation. The game was up.

Aliya turned to the two guards, now with their hands on their blades for a quick draw. She pulled a small kernel of magic and conjured a screen of fire behind them. The officers screamed and jumped forward. The whites of their eyes stood out in the dim lighting.

She tugged on another thread of power and lit a fireball over her hand. "No, no, gentlemen. None of that today. Go ahead and drop those swords on the ground for me."

The two weapons clanked at her feet. She nodded toward the open cell. "Inside, please."

"Who are you?" the younger one asked as they crossed the threshold.

She grabbed the lock, melted it and sealed the door closed. They would escape eventually, when the next shift found them.

Glaring at the two wardens behind the bars of the door, she hissed, "Throw the keys out here."

The older one cursed at her.

She threw a fireball at him.

He screamed, the two of them slapping his arm until the flames went out. "Fire in a cell? With all this straw around?"

She glanced at the moldy, rotten floor covering. "That won't make decent kindling. I'd worry more about angering me than a bit of sparks in wet hay." She conjured a larger fireball. "Now, keys, please."

The ring of keys flew through the bars to land at her feet.

Aliya picked them up and turned to the prisoner she'd freed, cowering against the wall. "Can you use a sword?"

He stared at her with round eyes, frozen.

Oh, right. She still looked like Malkov. Aliya relaxed, adjusting her body posture.

"Don't worry. I'm in disguise." She took a breath and waited until he met her gaze. "Can you handle a blade?"

"Yes," he rasped.

"Excellent." She kicked one of the guards' abandoned swords to him. "Pick up the weapon. I need you to help me escort everyone to safety." Her eyes drifted back to the iron door. "What's behind that?"

"Don't know, but it howls and gouges the door with its huge claws." The man swallowed audibly. "You created it, the guards said. I mean—" he eyed her— "the king did. A monster."

Fabulous. And she had almost opened the door. A problem for another day, if she survived tomorrow. She pocketed the keys.

"Come on. Let's free the others. We need to be gone before anyone comes down to check on them."

"Through the sewers?" A young woman ducked her head out of one of the cells.

Aliya resisted the urge to grind her teeth. "Unless you want to fight your way through the upper levels?"

Her eyes went round, and she shook her head.

Aliya pressed her lips together into a tight smile. "Smart girl."

The last stall held another familiar face.

"Father!" The words passed her lips before she could stop it.

Baron Larimar stared up at her from where he sat in the corner of his cell. "Aliya?" His voice was a whisper.

She reached down and pulled him to his feet. He was so thin, she lifted him easily. "What are you doing here?"

He coughed. "Why do you think I'm here? This is all your fault, you know."

She rolled her eyes. They didn't have time for this. "You're the one who sold me in marriage to that monster. I hope the money was worth it." Especially since the crown had reclaimed the Larimar Barony. "Keep your mouth shut and come with me if you value your life."

He coughed again. She pushed him in front of her, out into the hallway.

"Everyone, follow me."

As her boots splashed into the fetid water in the catacombs, Aliya tugged her hood up to hide her face and smiled. Fifteen former prisoners followed behind her. Mission Number One was accomplished.

Not bad, all things considered.

The guard's keys made quick work of the manacles. Aliya dropped the key ring in the murky water as the last set of handcuffs clicked open.

The final mage, the woman from the first cell, flashed Aliya a toothy grin.

Aliya smiled back and pointed over the woman's shoulder.

"The exit is about two blocks that way. Leave the alley one at a time so you don't draw attention."

As the others headed in the direction she'd indicated, a hand clamped down over her arm. "Where do you think you're going, young lady?"

She stared into her father's eyes. Aliya jerked, ripping free from his grip.

"This is the thanks I get for breaking you and what's left of your men out? Do you have any idea what fate awaited you if I'd left you?"

Baron Larimar slapped her.

Aliya stepped back, hand flying to her stinging cheek.

"Where did you learn to talk back?"

"I learned a lot of things in the last six weeks, Father. Not the least of which was how to take care of myself." She glared, standing straight and stepping forward. "And it's Your Majesty, now."

The Baron's face flushed. "A queen in title, but where's your throne?" He spun in a circle, gesturing to the surroundings. "Doesn't look like much of a claim to me."

Ugh. "I should've let you rot." She'd never be able to live with herself if she did, though. Curse her conscience. She turned her back on him, following the others. "Get out of my sight. I'd advise you to avoid my husband, unless you want to end up right back in the dungeon. Because next time, I won't come for you."