The Bone Mask Trilogy: (An Epic Fantasy Boxed Set), page 19
Instead of noting information she needed to plan her escape, Sofia glared at Lupo’s back. At every unexpected move from him she tensed. The collar continued to chafe her neck as horseshoes clapped down the cobblestones. She rubbed her mount’s back as best she could. His outburst... she shivered.
In a way, she’d been a prisoner before. Of the palace and of her role as Carver, rarely leaving its grounds, or even the palace. Never leashed, true, but she’d been so long in the company of her father, carvers and the Mascare, the routines and rituals, the work, the familiar halls of the palace, that she’d grown complacent. That was part of her fear. With Seto too, she had understood the terms of their arrangement, known what was expected.
Even after Oson’s betrayal, meeting Notch and Seto, running on the streets, the explosion, she had not felt this. Had it all built up? Was she so fragile that a few harsh words from her captor would set her limbs trembling?
No.
It was Lupo. He was unpredictable.
She had to watch him. To become her namesake, to be ready. To be strong where he expected weakness.
The Mountain Gate loomed in the thinning fog. Massive bolts crossed thick iron, they were so heavy that a mechanism was required to open them – the gate guards stood arranged in pairs before it, yellow light blooming in the gatehouse. Could she use them? Would they help her if she cried out? Each was heavily armed and they outnumbered her captors.
But would they believe her? A ‘prisoner’ of a Mascare? No-one challenged the Mascare but royalty. Or perhaps a man in Emilio’s position, and then with little expectation. Certainly not a gate guard. Nor would she risk their lives. Wait a little longer. Strike when he’s alone. Isolated.
“Open up, men,” Lupo called.
One of the guards stepped forward, breastplate catching the light. “Not before full light, you should flipping know –” he stopped, eyes widening when he saw them. “My Lord, I apologise, I meant no offense. It’s just that so many –”
“No trouble,” Lupo interrupted, pulling his mount to a halt while the guards jumped to action. Some cast glances at the odd mask on the young Renovar, but no-one dared mention it. And if they detected his slight accent they did not mention it either. A grinding followed as the gates swung open, revealing an empty mountain road. Dark stone walls rose up to one side and a sharp drop waited opposite.
The Mountain Gate. One of the only access points to the city outside of the harbour, certainly the only one of size. Heavily guarded since the first Medah attack, hundreds of years ago. And the quickest route to her family’s manor, not that Father used the home much anymore. Secrecy meant Survival.
The wind was colder, whipping up the gorge beside the road. She shivered, her cloak a poor replacement for her Mascare robe, which she had been told was being cleaned. Another shudder ran through her body at the thought of Lupo, of any of them, dressing her.
Far below, dark trees grew on the slopes. Her view grew considerably as they wove their way lower, at times she could see down to the pale green of the foothills.
“Is your manor a modest place then?” Lupo asked after a time, speaking over the rhythm of the hooves.
“I don’t know what you think of as modest, but wealth is not to be flaunted.”
“Ah.”
They rode on and the sun rose, its rays weak. Sofia coughed, her breath wheezing. She needed warmer clothing. And yet, her face was warm, skin hot to the touch. If a fever was building, it couldn’t have chosen a worse time. When Lupo pulled them into a wider space beside the road to eat trail rations at noon, the young Renovar approached her, a scarf in hand.
“You seem cold,” he said.
She said nothing.
“My name’s Veddir. Will you take this?”
It looked warm. A token gesture, perhaps, but inviting. Veddir held it out, mask sockets impossible to read.
“Thank you.” She wrapped it over the collar. The fabric cut the wind and she almost sighed as a slow warmth spread.
He held his torso half-turned, as if expecting to be dismissed. Or even struck.
“Are you unwell?”
“No.”
What did he want? An offer of friendship would be a front. Was he trying to lure her into a false sense of security?
He averted his gaze. “I hope it helps.” He walked back to his saddlebags.
Sofia rounded on Lupo, who stood watching. By his posture he could have been smiling beneath his mask. It was in the set of his shoulders, at ease. Familiar too, mocking. People like Oson stood the same way and it troubled her. It could have been his lack of concern over his prisoner. She had no-where to run. Yet. The wolf had not eaten, but simply waited for them to finish before motioning to mount up.
The horses carried them down the mountains and temperature climbed, her body warmth rising. Up ahead, a heavy cart, laden with wool packs from the lowland farms, trundled toward them. The driver pulled his team up against the wall to let them pass, despite there being ample room. He pushed a boy back on the bench, bowing his head as Lupo passed. The driver’s eyes flicked to Sofia’s leash but he made no comment.
The imposter inclined his head to the herder, as if royalty.
Sofia snorted.
Near nightfall the darkening foothills rose around them, green grass bending in a breeze. Domes of moss and stone peeked from the earth and sometimes low walls cut through the hills. At a marked fork, a turn she could have made even without spotting the rough bird she and Tantos had cut into the base of a stump, Sofia directed Lupo up a winding trail that passed through groves of dark pines. Their needles littered the path and blocked the setting sun. The singing of birds faded.
“We’re close then?” Lupo said.
“It’s not far.” Still she had no plan for escape.
Beyond the grove a low stone wall ran around a hilltop. A single hole in the masonry sat beside the gate, which was closed but not chained. Lupo opened it and led them along a path that curved up to her mansion. Lined with trees, many of which she’d climbed as a child, it obscured the building until they dismounted out front, its many windows catching the last of the sunlight. ‘Modest’ compared to the palace, it was nonetheless large. Three storeys and a stable around back, with grand double doors resting over a landing, it had once hosted dinner parties for well over a hundred guests. When mother had been alive, and father cared about such things.
A place of comfort, more so than her rooms in the palace, here she had been allowed to play, before the grind of the carver’s life took over, before day after day of shaping bone, hands aching over chisel handles. Here she had imagined her life as similar to her mother’s – she would have a handsome husband and beautiful daughters. And then, when she got a little older, a life as the greatest carver the palace had known.
Sofia could have sprinted to her room. In other circumstances she would have.
“It looks empty,” Veddir said.
“It is. The servants have returned to the city,” Sofia said, trying to breathe deeply. “Winters can be hard here.”
“Very well.” He untied Sofia and helped her down. “Stable the mounts, Veddir, and meet us inside.” The man led the horses away and Lupo continued. “Sofia, I have some news you may wish to hear.”
“About?”
“Oson has asked that the populace assist in your capture. There’s a significant reward. Casa Swordfish has certainly wiped its hands of you.”
Typical of the slimy weasel. She glared at her captor. “Why tell me this?”
He said nothing a moment. “To remind you that your only path is with me. Forget your father, forget your old life.”
“No.” She snatched the leash and wrenched it. He stumbled but caught the rope. “Help me and I spare you. That is your path, Sofia.”
“Damn you!”
He took her leash and removed it from the collar before binding her hands. “There. Does that help your breathing?”
She glared at him. Was he taking his lead from Veddir? Toying with her emotions? Loathsome. He wanted the tabella. Desperately. What else would he try to keep her off balance? “Gods take you and your blackened heart.”
He started up the steps to the landing. “In we go, Sofia.”
She growled. “It’ll be locked.”
“Worry not.” He produced a key from his robes with a flourish and placed it in the door, giving it a turn. It clicked and Sofia glared at his back. How much had he stolen from her father’s rooms?
The foyer was splashed with light from the many windows, twin staircases beside another set of double doors. The stairs led to balconies and other closed doors, access to the third storey from a second set of stairs. Empty lamps flanked each stair and a cold chandelier hung overhead. Beyond the double doors was a ballroom, it had not heard music or felt the clap of hard shoes for years.
“To your father’s study then?”
She said nothing, but at a gesture from her captor, led him up the stairs and through the nearest door. Her breath came a little hard at the top, and sweat gathered at her temples. Still a fever threatened. Lupo kept close behind in the darkened hall, the leash alternating between slackness and a tugging on her wrists. Even the weight of the rope was a reminder that she was captive. Inspiration had not struck. She couldn’t even slip something into his water – no dormi, no linfa-belt, nothing. She’d managed to separate herself from the city at least. No innocents were in danger, but the leash was something she hadn’t counted on. Foolish.
She stopped at the door.
“Inside, Sofia.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Read it, little successor.” He pulled her into a small room. Across from open curtains stood a deep desk, papers in neat stacks and quills and ink pot nearby. Shaped as a falcon at rest, Sofia almost smiled. Once she’d dropped it, spilling ink all over his documents.
She knew what to do.
“In the desk. There’s a page hidden throughout each of the documents, sealed within other pages. You’d never know.”
“That seems... insecure. Unlike a Falco.”
She shook her head, mind racing. Outwardly, she kept her face composed. “He wanted it out of the palace. He suspected the other houses were plotting against us.” She looked away. “And he was right.”
Lupo tugged at a drawer and it slid open. “Hmmm.” He began heaping stacks of paper onto the desk, looping the leash over his wrist as he worked in the darkening light. Outside the sun began to slip out of sight.
She did not join him.
Sofia stayed across the small room, standing by the window, leash near its limit. She took a shuddering breath and held it. Time it right. Wait, wait, wait, watch his arm. Wait for the right moment. There! Lupo lifted another stack of documents from the bottom drawer and Sofia jerked on the leash, smashing the window with her elbow. In the same motion, she dragged the leather cord over the jagged edges of broken glass, slicing her forearms. Blood slicked her hands but the leash was cut.
She sprinted for the door.
“Stop,” Lupo shouted. He lurched forward, his reactions slowed by surprise. Sofia dove, avoiding his outstretched arms. She rolled into the hall, gaining her feet and hurtling toward the opposite end.
Thundering footsteps followed and she slammed through a door, back onto the balcony, breathing hard. With hands still bound, her gait was not smooth but she took the steps two at a time and dashed across the foyer, Lupo’s shouts falling behind. She twisted her torso as she shouldered the front door open. The wolf leapt down the stairs, robe flying.
And then she was charging around the manor, away from the stables. Shrubs flashed by her legs as she ran, using the house as a screen, crossing the tall grass that separated manor from tree line. Twice she nearly tripped on the leash. If she could stay out of sight long enough she might escape.
She slipped between tree trunks and spun, crouching down, gasping for air. Beneath the canopy her hand on the trunk was a pale smudge, smeared with blood. Her lungs had shrunk to half their size, or so it seemed. Blood pumped in her ears and her face was aflame. She thumped the tree. Not now.
Lupo and Veddir were moving around the house, converging on the spot that would lead them to her, the moment they marked her tracks in the grass.
She wrapped the leash as best she could and stumbled through the copse. Trees thinned where the hill sloped and she half-slid, half-fell to the bottom, collapsing to her knees with a curse. A stream, in some places no more than a puddle beneath grass, meandered through the gully. The black shapes of surrounding hills closed in as she dragged herself to her feet and splashed forward.
How many times had she played ‘hide and catch’ with Tantos here? Or her father, joining in to laugh and pretend he could not see her. It had always been a safe place, something about the hills... they would protect her. If she could locate the old cave before collapsing, Lupo would never find her. Not in the dark, the opening was hard to find even in daylight. Lupo would pass her by.
Sounds of pursuit were distant but a faint glow might have been visible between the trees. Torches? She followed the water, still panting, detouring a large boulder and feeling her way up a game trail. Overground, it made for footing near as treacherous as the streambed, but she knew it well. The path turned with the hills, which still concealed much of the sky, and she was forced to slow as the last of the daylight disappeared.
A light bobbed along her back trail. Lupo’s rich voice echoed in the night as he shouted commands to Veddir. Sofia moved as fast as she dared, stumbling often. When she tripped, she broke her fall with her hands. Blood trickled down her arms but there was nothing to be done for it. Rising was agony. Her ankle throbbed and her chest was afire. Each breath tore at her throat.
The cave mouth was close. She ran her hands along stringy grass on the wall. To the right of the game trail, somewhere not too far beyond the boulder, was a second path, a fork. It was marked with a shrub and a depression. Her feet would probably find it first but she slowed to catch her breath, or try to. She could only manage shallow breaths through the pain.
Damn you. The curse was for the rising fever, for herself, for Lupo, it didn’t matter. She crept forward until her feet found the depression and to her right, as she remembered, the shrubs. Shuffling around them she continued along the new path, moving deeper into the hills and the darkness.
“Finally,” she gasped when her hands lost contact with the grass. She stopped to trace a narrow opening, partially grown over. Shoving an arm inside, she tested for obstructions before crawling in. The cold from the stone floor seeped into her skin, soothing even as she collapsed into shivering. She crawled deeper, putting her back against the walls and catching her breath.
The opening was a lighter shade of black, nothing more. At any moment, light from Lupo’s torch could arrive and if he noticed the cave, she would be caught. Would he kill her then? Unleash the temper that bubbled beneath the indulgent exterior? Not knowing was terrible. She found a loose rock, a pitiful defence.
If she could remain undetected until morning, and if she survived the fever, there was a chance she could forage for food and head back to Anaskar. A tear squeezed itself from her eye. Damn him. She would not be caught. She was Falco.
Light grew outside the cave. A pale bloom at first, quickly joined by Lupo’s voice. She scrambled back, trying to make herself smaller.
“Continue looking. I need her,” he was saying.
“She could be anywhere by now.” Veddir’s voice had risen in pitch, almost to a whine. “I think we’ve missed her.”
“No. Those were footprints back there. She’s here somewhere. Look again.” Lupo’s voice was flat.
The light grew as Lupo walked into view, pausing before the opening at a sound from Veddir. “What now?”
The young Renovar rushed his words. “Wait, I hear her heartbeat. She’s close by, Lord Lupo. I’m sure of it.”
Sofia put a hand over her chest. How in the name of the Ocean Gods could Veddir possibly hear her heart? She froze. The thump of her heart was suddenly magnified, slamming into her chest, as if it fought the fever. Having Lupo and Veddir mere feet away, discussing her heart, doubled its beat. Was it some strange Renovar magic she’d not heard of? No Anaskari could do such a thing. Not even the Storm Singers.
Lupo took another step. “Here?”
“Yes. The sound is very close,” Veddir said. “She’s here. Wait, what’s that?”
“Ah,” Lupo said as he bent down by the opening. He pushed his torch into the cave and looked around, mask bright in the torchlight. His gaze swept across her twice before he backed out. “She’s not here,” he snapped.
“But I hear her heart.” Veddir cried. “Even the pump of blood in her veins.”
A slap echoed in the night. “The cave is empty. See for yourself.”
Veddir repeated Lupo’s actions, lighting the rough walls with his torch but seeing nothing when he looked at her. He crawled back out.
“But, I can still hear it.” His voice rose again. “I’ve never been wrong.”
“You are this time. Come, continue searching,” Lupo said, steps moving on. “And keep your voice down.” Veddir followed with his own torch, and it wasn’t until the light faded that Sofia released a fit of gasping.
Chapter 22
Sofia frowned in the darkness. What happened? Lupo stared directly at her. Backed out of the cave and walked away. Left. And Veddir made the same mistake.
Did it even matter? Since they’d left, her heart slowed and her breathing came easier. Her clothes were damp with sweat. She tugged on the collar and adjusted her scarf. It was cold in the cave, best to keep them on.
Escape was possible. If she could wait until dawn she would have a chance, so long as they had given up.
_preview.jpg)
