Shield of Sparrows, page 26
Today was the first time Evangeline had been brave enough to follow. For ten minutes, she’d been sneaking behind us, running from tree to tree. Finally, Zavier had stopped and turned, catching her on a dash.
She took the space between us, holding his hand as she gave me a wary glance.
Evie had yet to speak to me. For a girl so bold, she seemed nervous where I was concerned.
Was that because she knew I was married to Zavier? Or because I was an outsider? Or because the Guardian had warned her not to trust me?
Turning a child against me seemed like his style.
I hadn’t seen him in five days, not that I was counting. Apparently, he didn’t need to babysit me with Zavier around.
Fine by me.
“Hi,” I said, giving her my kindest smile. “I’m Odessa.”
She leaned against Zavier’s leg, sweet and shy and with the most precious face in the realm. “Hi.”
Zavier winked, and a hundred butterflies fluttered in my belly.
Maybe this marriage wasn’t entirely hopeless. Zavier as a father was different than the bored, indifferent man I’d met weeks ago. The protectiveness for his child was endearing.
“Pap—” Evangeline caught herself midslip. “Zavier?”
It broke my heart a little to hear her call him Zavier.
“Can I go with you when you leave?” she asked.
“You’re leaving again?” I asked.
He opened his mouth to answer one of us, but his focus shifted into the forest. He held up a hand for us to stay quiet as a crease formed between his eyebrows.
I scanned the trees, searching for whatever it was he’d heard. But other than some birds chirping and squirrels chattering, the only noise was from the occasional falling pine cone.
He listened for another moment, features taut, until he exhaled and the worry vanished.
“What?” I asked.
Evie squinted into the distance, peering into the shadows. Then her face lit up as a man appeared, striding through the trees on near-silent feet.
The Guardian.
My babysitter had returned.
Damn my heart. It skipped.
Heartburn. It had to be heartburn. The cooks had added peppers to the eggs this morning. They’d been spicy, and now I had heartburn.
Zavier let go of Evie’s hand as the Guardian approached. The men clasped forearms as Zavier asked, “How did it go?”
There was a seriousness to the Guardian today. A sharpness. He looked to Evangeline, his expression softening a bit, before jerking his chin for Zavier to follow away from our path.
He didn’t so much as blink in my direction.
Also fine by me.
They stepped away, their backs turned to block us out. To block me out.
Evie crooked her finger, motioning me closer as she whispered. “He goes to fight the monsters. The bad ones.”
Bad ones? “Like grizzurs and lionwicks?”
“No.” She shook her head. “The sick ones.”
Sick monsters. “What do you mean?”
“Evangeline!” A woman’s voice echoed through the trees.
The girl’s eyes blew wide. She turned, about to run away and hide behind a tree when the woman stopped her.
“I see you, Evie. Don’t you dare run away from me.”
Evie looked to the ground, chewing on her lower lip.
A woman swept down the path, marching our way. She was beautiful, with a slender, willowy figure. Her long, brown hair was braided much like mine, the thick plait draped over her shoulder. She walked with elegance and immediately reminded me of Margot. Straight spine, pinned shoulders, with a lifted chin.
It wasn’t haughty or superior. This woman’s posture was simply perfect.
She stopped in front of us, her green eyes narrowing. “Well?”
“Sorry, Luella,” Evangeline mumbled.
Luella sighed, crouching in front of her charge. “It frightens me when you run off.”
“But if I tell you where I’m going, you won’t let me.”
I pulled in my lips to hide a smile. At one point, I think I’d told my own tutors much the same.
Luella relaxed, the fear of losing Evangeline gone, and stood, facing me with a small smile. “You must be Odessa. I’m Luella. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You as well.” I gave her a slight bow.
I’d never bowed to my own tutors before, but it came automatically. As if Luella’s grace demanded the respect.
“Odessa.” I turned at Zavier’s voice. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to cut our walk short. There’s something that needs my attention.”
“Of course.”
He nodded, then bent to run his thumb around Evangeline’s face. “Go with Luella.”
Her tiny shoulders sagged. “Are you leaving?”
“Not yet.” He pulled her into his leg, giving her a brief hug.
My gaze shifted to the Guardian.
His hazel eyes stared back.
There was no smirk today. There was no taunting or mischief in his expression.
Something was wrong. Something had happened.
A chill crept down my spine.
“Shall we?” Luella motioned to the path like she was to usher both me and Evangeline away.
I followed them to the commons before breaking away with a wave. Then I weaved through the trees, searching faces until I found the one I’d been looking for.
Brielle was hanging wet clothes on a line to dry. My clothes.
True to his word, Zavier had moved her and Jocelyn into a treehouse of their own. The privacy, the companionship with a friend, had done her wonders. She was less sullen, happier, than she’d been since arriving in Treow.
“Highness.” She curtsied. “Is everything all right? Do you need anything?”
“No.” I came to a stop at her side, standing close as I checked the space around us, ensuring we were alone. “Have you heard anything about sick monsters?”
Her forehead furrowed. “Sick monsters? No. What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure.” What made a monster sick? “Just a rumor I heard today.”
“I’ve heard nothing of monsters.” She lowered her voice. “But I heard something last night at the bonfire, after you retired to your room. I was walking back and heard a couple of men talking. I, um, eavesdropped.”
Since Zavier’s arrival, there’d been a liveliness to Treow. Or maybe it was the doing of his warriors. Over the past five nights, there’d been a bonfire near the commons. People would gather and drink while they told stories. Jocelyn and Brielle had gone every night. They’d tell me all about it over breakfast.
But neither had invited me to attend. Nor had Tillia.
After a string of nights sulking that I’d been left out, I’d decided this was the Guardian’s doing. The reason he took my rope ladder each night.
So I wouldn’t make my way to the bonfire. I wouldn’t overhear whatever it was that the Turans didn’t want shared.
“What did you hear?” I asked.
“That a few men have gone missing from Treow.”
“Missing? Like they left? Or were taken?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “One of them saw me listening, and they stopped talking.”
So they guarded their stories from Brielle, too.
Smart.
“Jocelyn said she heard someone talking about the king’s militia. He’s recruiting more men. I guess one of the pony riders quit to enlist. Maybe that’s where these men went as well.”
Why would Ramsey need to build his militia? The crux migration? Or for a war?
Father had told me he needed to get into Allesaria. But he’d never specifically said he’d be sending troops. I’d made that assumption. What if he’d never planned on invading? What if all of this was in reaction to something Ramsey was doing?
I hummed. When we were on the coast, the men hauling our trunks had mentioned the militia. Ramsey must be pulling people from across his kingdom.
Pulling them to Allesaria, maybe?
“Have you heard anything about Allesaria?”
“No.” She frowned. “I asked Mariette about it once. She never spoke to me often before that point, but when I mentioned the city’s name, she ignored me for days.”
“It’s been the same for me.” Whenever I’d bring up Allesaria, conversation would either die or change direction.
It was almost as if the city was a myth. A legend.
What if Allesaria didn’t exist?
Maybe the reason Father couldn’t gain access to the Turan capital was because there wasn’t a Turan capital. It had never been rebuilt. And if there was no capital, then there was nothing for Father to find that might help us against the crux.
No. Impossible. Children were taught the capitals of every kingdom. I’d known about Allesaria since I was old enough to read and write.
It existed. Somewhere.
Didn’t it?
“We’ll never learn anything if we stay here,” I said.
Brielle bent to pick up a clean tunic and pin it to the line. “It seems, Highness, like that’s the point.”
They’d trapped us here.
For weeks, I’d accepted this place. I’d been biding my time, thinking eventually we’d go to Allesaria. But Zavier would take me to Ellder instead. I’d fail entirely. And my people would pay the price.
If I was going to find Allesaria, then something had to change.
Me. I had to change.
I could ask questions until I was blue in the face, and no one would answer. What exactly was a sick monster? Did it have anything to do with that green blood I’d seen from the marroweel and dead grizzur? Why was King Ramsey burning books and building a militia? What was happening in Turah, and how many secrets were these people keeping beyond the location of their capital?
It was time to stop waiting for the Turans to gift me information.
It was time to start acting like a spy.
It was time to figure my way out of Treow.
Twenty-Six
Brielle sat on the edge of my bed, frowning as she watched me comb out my wet hair. “This is the worst idea you’ve ever had.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“I have to try,” I told her.
“What happens when we get caught?”
“They’ll probably lock me in this treehouse and you in yours.” My rope ladder would likely stop reappearing each morning, and I’d be trapped in this room forever.
But I wasn’t letting the fear of getting caught stop me from my plan. I might not be a great spy or princess or warrior, but I had some practice at sneaking out.
Brielle was my unwilling accomplice. We’d decided to keep Jocelyn out of the fray so she could claim ignorance if—when—we got caught.
“What if you get eaten by a lionwick or bariwolf?” she asked.
“Then you get to go home.”
“Highness.” She flinched. “Don’t talk like that. And don’t do this. It’s too risky.”
I gave her a sad smile. “I have to. I have to try.”
She hesitated for a moment. “Why?”
Because if I quit now, what kind of person did that make me?
My father might not be an affectionate man. He was hard and strict and unyielding. But he was fair, and above all else, he served his people. His crown. His kingdom.
Maybe I didn’t know all of the details, but I had faith he’d given me this task for a good reason. I had faith that he wasn’t a murderer or a conqueror. That if he did send his troops to Turah, it wouldn’t be to viciously slaughter the innocent.
He hadn’t said he was planning a war. He’d said he needed to find Allesaria. That he needed a way to enter the city. That he wanted to find a way to break the Shield of Sparrows and set me free.
If I were a better princess, a selfless princess, the notion of freedom wouldn’t be so appealing.
What would I do if my life was my own? What would I do if I could break away from this marriage to Zavier? If the key to saving my people didn’t rest on my shoulders?
Who would I become if I wasn’t at the mercy of men?
An adventurer? A voyager? A writer? An artist who traveled the realm and never cared that her fingertips were stained with charcoal or paint?
Not once in my life had I let myself dream of those possibilities. Not once had I been given the luxury of dreams. If I could be anything in this realm, who would I become?
I wanted to find out.
So I’d leave Treow today. I’d find the road to Allesaria. I’d find out what was happening in Turah with these sick monsters and burning books.
And in doing so, maybe I’d set myself free.
No more bride prize, and no more Sparrows.
Would I fail? Probably. But maybe, just maybe, I’d find a way. For myself. And for the next princess who wanted a choice.
I was more capable than my family expected. I was more than I’d let myself believe. There was a girl inside me who’d once found the courage to jump off a cliffside. That girl had been stifled and smothered. Hidden except for those stolen moments of bravery.
It was time to let her stretch her wings and fly.
I tossed my comb on the bed beside Brielle. “They might not have said it, but my family expects me to fail. There’s a reason my father chose Mae instead of me to be the Sparrow. And I think, in my heart, when I left Roslo, I expected to fail, too. I’m tired of being shoved to the wayside. I’m tired of being dismissed. I’d like to prove to them, to myself, that I am more than a token to be traded.”
Brielle’s eyes softened. “You want their love.”
“I don’t know if they’re able to love.” Probably not in the way that Brielle’s family loved her. “I’d settle for their confidence and trust. Maybe a little faith that I’m not entirely useless.”
That maybe I could be a queen.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re useless or a failure,” Brielle said. “And I trust you.”
That was sweet. “Thank you. I trust you, too.”
Enough that over the past four days, I’d told her about my plan to spy. How Father had tasked me with entering Allesaria. How he’d asked me to learn about the Guardian’s powers. When I’d told her that he’d asked me to kill the Guardian, Brielle had been gracious enough not to laugh.
There were still secrets between us. I hadn’t told her that Zavier could speak. I hadn’t shared about Evie. But I’d confided everything else.
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait?” she asked. “They might still take us to Allesaria.”
I shook my head. “They won’t. We’ll be in Ellder for the migration. And the Guardian already suspects I’m spying for Father.”
“Which you are.”
“Which I am. The crux are coming. If we had years, I’d think of another plan. But I might not get this chance again.”
I went to the small mirror mounted on the wall beside the bath, taking in my riot of curls. The red and orange spirals were bright beneath the skylights, the strands drying quickly from the warmth of the afternoon.
With the exception of Brielle and Jocelyn, everyone in Treow knew me with brown hair. And with the exception of Brielle and Jocelyn, everyone in Treow who knew me best was gone.
Zavier had left the encampment four days ago with Evangeline and Luella. Tillia and Halston had accompanied them to wherever it was they were going, acting as their guards.
The Guardian was gone, too.
Even Cathlin had left the encampment and its empty library. Brielle had been tasked with cleaning out her vacant treehouse.
They’d all left four days ago, after the Guardian had returned from hunting “sick” monsters.
Maybe they’d felt Evie would be safer elsewhere. Maybe Zavier had surprised his daughter with a getaway trip to Perris. Maybe they’d lassoed a crux and were riding it to the twin moons.
All I knew was that they’d left without so much as a wave goodbye.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that I’d been left behind. To the Turans, I was no one important. I was an outsider. A second thought. A ward in need of watching.
A bug to be kept locked in a glass jar.
It was surprisingly similar to the life I’d lived in Quentis.
Well, I’d snuck out of Father’s castle, crawling with guards, plenty of times. I could sneak out of this damn encampment, too.
“I’m praying to Daria her luck is on our side,” Brielle said.
“So am I.”
It hadn’t taken long for me to hatch this plan—only one sleepless night. It was probably too simple, but I was giving it a shot nonetheless. Sometimes, all it took was a simple plan.
“What will you try to find?” she asked.
“Anything.” Any hint of Allesaria. I wasn’t holding my breath that I’d find a map, but there had to be one somewhere in this godsdamn kingdom.
Ashmore seemed as good a place as any to start my search.
I just had to get there.
Ashmore was the closest town to Treow. And the merchant who delivered supplies to the encampment’s mercantile was my best chance at getting past the watchtowers.
I twisted my curls into a knot and pinned it to the base of my skull. Then I grabbed a gray satin scarf from the armoire, fitting it over my forehead and tying it around my hair. “Is it all covered?”
Brielle nodded, collecting my satchel from the bed and bringing it over. “Do you have plenty of coin?”
“Yes.” Enough gold to rent a room at an inn for myself in Ashmore. Enough gold to bribe a traveler to smuggle me back into Treow in a few days’ time. “You remember what to say if anyone asks where I am?”
“Yes. Your monthly cycle has arrived, and you’re ill. You asked me to leave you to rest.”
