The Fallen Mender Read online

  “Open your robe just a bit,” he commanded, and she undid her sash.

  He gently slid one hand down her belly, stopping just under her waistband, and he closed his eyes. His hand felt warm on her bare skin; and it was smooth, as if it had seldom known hard work. He moved it around a bit and pressed down slightly. She quivered inside: his captivating presence and his brilliance terrified her, as did the fact that all she loved would be lost if he discovered her intentions.

  “Please, be still,” he said.

  “I’m frightened,” she said.

  He opened his eyes and looked into hers. “No, no. As you say, I have no intention of hurting you.”

  “What are you doing to my child?”

  “I’m not harming your child. Just replicating it.”

  “Replicating it?” she said in a soft voice. “What if I don’t want that?”

  He smiled, impressed that she would challenge him. “Children are a divine gift. They are prosperity. How can you not want as many as the divine spirit will allow?”

  “It’s my body,” she said. “Should it not be my choice?”

  “Your mind is your own. But at the moment your body belongs to me. It would do you well to relax.”

  “How can you abide yourself?” she muttered.

  “Please, relax, for the health of the children.”

  She breathed in deeply and this quieted her. He closed his eyes once more, and focused his attention back on his hand. She waited, taking shallow breaths. From what she knew of human reproduction, she knew Radovan had to be working at the tiniest subcellular scale to be able to split the proto-embryo at such an early stage. He seemed to grow more tired as he worked his unseen magic on her.

  A few minutes later, Radovan’s sleepy expression turned to one of satisfaction. “All done?” she asked him.

  “Congratulations,” he said. “You are having twins.”

  “Twins?”

  “You will be treated well. I must go.” He got up slowly. He appeared dizzy as he found his footing.

  “Wait,” she said. “I have a rib in the back that’s cracked. Surely you can have a look before you go.”

  He sighed. “I’ll have someone else attend to that.”

  “Please,” she begged, sitting up. “It will take no time, and I’ve given you so much.” She opened her robe and let it fall completely off her shoulders. She shook her arms free of the sleeves, baring herself completely above the waist.

  Radovan kept his eyes on hers. “Daughter of Arra, you are bold. You know that a mender’s inclination to help is an urge difficult to resist.” He returned and sat beside her once again. “Which side is it?”

  “My right side.” She had to be quick, before he realized there was absolutely nothing wrong with her rib. Radovan pulled his chair even closer and ran his warm hand down her back. As he did this, she leaned forward and slid two fingers into her boot. She didn’t feel the poison bee. Damn it! Where is it?

  Survival chemicals began pulsing into her blood as she considered what to do next. Surely he would detect the physiological change! The rapid increase in the strength of each successive beat of her heart, the tensing of muscles, the turning of her stomach…

  If she didn’t have the bee, the only other option was to threaten him with the dagger, escape, and try again another time. She slipped her hand into her other boot and lifted the ancient dagger out of its jeweled sheath, grasping it tightly.

  Half asleep, Radovan did not catch on to what she was doing. Just as he eased back into his mending trance, she shoved him back against his chair with one hand. With the other, she held the glowing blade to his neck.

  “You fool,” King Radovan said to himself, snapping back to his senses.

  “Listen to me,” she told him. “I can free you from the spell of the tutor if you come with me. Do as I say.”

  “Impossible,” said Radovan, with his eyes again locked on hers. And then he smiled. “Isn’t this fitting,” he said. “A lovely Arran girl has proven to be my only worthy opponent. Just take my life, child. And quickly, now. You deserve this victory.”

  “Very well,” she said, “I shall kill you. Close your eyes.”

  And he did.

  Here was another chance to inject him! He was entirely at her mercy. The King of the South, the source of menace, was at the edge of her blade, submitting to her. But the poison bee had slipped beneath her heel—she could feel it now, and she would have to take off her boot to get at it, which was not a realistic option given the position she was in.

  She wasn’t about to sever Elaina’s father’s neck either. That would have certainly meant the end of the grand plan.

  Leaping up, she bolted for the door, careful to step only on the ball of the foot the poison bee was lodged under.

  She threw open the door. There were two Destaurian guards just outside. Before they could react, Nastasha thrust her dagger into the first one’s chest, and ripped it out his side, and then she spun around and slashed through his partner’s face. As they fell, she ran.

  She ran the course Elaina had described to her a few hours earlier. To the end of the corridor…down the stairs… The cool, indoor air numbed her bare skin as she ran.

  And as she ran, she felt the poison bee jiggling forward in her boot. The last thing she needed at this moment was a shattered syringe of poison embedded in her foot!

  She blew past another cadre of Destaurian guards, who tried to grab her, but they only managed to snap off a few strands of her hair. They gave chase down an elegantly decorated corridor. The poison bee wriggled closer and closer to the ball of her foot. A few steps more, and she might smash it…

  Suddenly, another pair of soldiers leapt out from around a corner and raised their bows, threatening the two men pursuing Nastasha. These two wore white epaulets, symbols of their loyalty to Eleonora.

  Radovan’s guards threw up their hands, turned, and backed off.

  Nastasha was so nervous now about crushing the poison bee, she was balancing on both toes like a dancer. She held up her bloody dagger for Eleonora’s soldiers to take. “Careful with this,” she said, and one of them snatched it. “I shall have to ask you to carry me, please,” she said to the other soldier. He scooped her up, ran her past a few more friendly troops, and carried her through room after room, deeper into the safe area, as the tips of her blonde hair dragged on the floor.

  They soon met up with Eleonora’s personal guards, who were keeping watch outside a set of double doors. One guard ripped off his blue satin cape and tossed it over Nastasha’s bare chest, as the other yanked opened the doors to Eleonora’s opulent bedchamber.

  Elaina, Jaimin, and Eleonora were right there, waiting.

  The soldier set Nastasha down gingerly on Eleonora’s bed. Clutching the guard’s smooth cape to her chest, Nastasha tried to catch her breath.

  She was safe at last.

  Jaimin rushed to her side.

  “Are you hurt?” Elaina asked.

  Nastasha shook her head. “Didn’t quite go as planned,” she said. “I didn’t get the poison in him. It’s…uh…still in my boot.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll find another way,” Elaina said.

  “I know.”

  “Just breathe deeply,” Jaimin said. “You’re safe now.” He brushed her cheek tenderly with the back of his fingers.

  Gazing up into Jaimin’s eyes, Nastasha focused on slowing her breathing. She still could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears.

  “I wish we could have given you a warmer welcome,” said Princess Eleonora, carefully slipping off Nastasha’s boots and lifting out the poison syringe, which was undamaged, and the dagger’s sheath, which was still in the other boot.

  “Seeing all of you is an incredible welcome,” said Nastasha.

  A few minutes later, a guard opened the door to return Nastasha’s dagger, which was still smeared with blood.

  Jaimin took it. “Do you want it back?” he asked Nastasha.

  “Yes
.”

  “Let me just…rinse it first, dear,” said Eleonora.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The Shadow Children decided to relocate their base again. They couldn’t trust that all those who now knew of their presence at the steam works would remain loyal to Eleonora. They set up their new camp in the forgotten halls under the ancient bathhouse, and then most went back out on duty. It was an important night for little spies to be listening for any threats to their princess or her cause.

  For hours, Maya was the only Shadow Child left at the new base. Alessa and Makias sat cross-legged on the stone floor, back to back, in deep meditation. Maya watched them, wishing she could see what they were seeing behind their twitching eyelids. She desired with all her heart to step beyond the borders of the frightening world she knew into a realm of new possibilities.

  As she stared at the meditating couple, Maya sensed a subtle shift in her own perception. In the poor light, it was as if the room had suddenly acquired more depth. Far objects seemed farther away; near objects drew just slightly nearer, and the edges of everything took on a richer contrast and vibrated almost imperceptibly. For a moment, Maya thought she saw the glow of Makias’ spirit, whereas Alessa lacked the glow. Maya shut her eyes and reflected on what she had seen, breathing slowly.

  When she opened her eyes again it was because someone was calling her name. “Maya? Maya…”

  It was Alessa. “Maya, dear, wake up.” Maya suddenly realized she was laying with her cheek to the hard floor. “You fell asleep,” Alessa said. Makias was still in meditation.

  Now Maya wasn’t sure if she’d dreamed the whole thing. “I saw Makias’ soul,” Maya explained. “But yours was gone.”

  “Remember what you saw,” Alessa said. “What you felt.”

  “I didn’t dream it, then! Where did your soul go?” Maya asked.

  “It was remarkable,” Alessa said. “A giant city where glass towers pierce the clouds. Where shiny metal carriages speed people sideways through the air, and up and down. And where hundreds of thousands of people go about their day.”

  “Hundreds of thousands?” Maya asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Where is this place?”

  “I don’t know,” Alessa said. “Far away.”

  Eleonora had washed the blood from Shen Yan’s dagger and sliced a few towels trying to dry it, and she was now sliding it back into its scabbard. “This is a fantastic birthday present,” Eleonora said, admiring the blade. “I would want this.”

  Elaina had offered to give Nastasha a light massage and was working on her shoulders.

  “It certainly is,” Nastasha replied. “I’ve never used a birthday present in quite that way before, though.”

  “Being a hero again you mean?” Jaimin asked. He was now holding Ia, who had awoken.

  “Hero?” Eleonora said. “Elaina tells me you’re already a legend. And if our plan works, you’ll be immortal.”

  “I’m just a girl who cares,” Nastasha said.

  “Combine your caring with your brilliance,” Jaimin said. “And that’s what makes you a hero.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The standoff in the palace continued into the evening. Eleonora’s loyalists had control of a third of the main floor and two hidden back exits.

  What had occurred within the Destaurian army as the day went on was nothing short of a revolution. A growing number of commanders, including the most venerable and highly respected, were affirming their loyalty to the princess, and were ensuring that Her Royal Highness remained supplied and connected to the outside world. Because King Radovan hadn’t overtly declared a schism with his daughter, a vote for Eleonora wasn’t necessarily a vote against the king.

  Eleonora’s compelling words were being retold across the kingdom, and these words, in the context of her unimpeachable reputation, were winning over hearts and minds. Still, she knew she could not turn the tide of the war on her own. Without her father’s support, she would not be able to rally all of the Destaurians against the purple army, or draw the tutor out of the shadows. The original plan to heal Radovan had to go ahead.

  Eleonora only let into her living chambers the few she could trust with the secret of Elaina and Jaimin’s presence. For hours, Jaimin, Elaina, Nastasha and Eleonora sat on Eleonora’s bed and discussed how to try again to administer the slow-acting poison to the king. Most strategies involved introducing the substance into his food. However, Eleonora’s knowledge of her own palace was surprisingly limited; she wasn’t familiar with the floor plans or functions of the prep rooms, stores and kitchens, or any of the areas food passed through on its way to her plate. Even worse, many of those areas were under Radovan’s control and couldn’t easily be scoped out now.

  When Elaina fell asleep halfway through one of Nastasha’s many “scenarios,” they all decided to put the planning, and themselves, to bed for the night. Jaimin carried Elaina into the servants’ quarters and tucked her into Candace’s bed, slipping in beside her and stealing a kiss before dozing off himself. Nastasha curled up on Eleonora’s settee and passed out. Eleonora wouldn’t get much sleep, with Ia needing to be fed and comforted.

  Eleonora’s personal attendants, Candace and Deb, arrived around midnight, but she dismissed them, not wanting to burden them with her secrets. “For your protection, I cannot let you stay here,” Eleonora said to them in the corridor. “You must go back to the city.” To Candace she said, “I have not forgotten Elma, and I pray that sometime soon I can bring you good news.” Candace’s daughter had been captured in a purple army raid, and Eleonora had promised to get to the bottom of the abduction.

  Eleonora lay back down on her bed, where Ia was peacefully wiggling in her silky, white sleeping garment. When Eleonora stroked Ia’s palm, the infant clutched her finger. “Ia, my dear child,” Eleonora said, “I pray that your life will be easier than mine.”

  The breakfast Eleonora’s allies delivered was so elaborate and delicious it would have been easy for the shut-ins to forget the tense stalemate surrounding them. And the message that arrived shortly afterward almost made it seem like all was well.

  Eleonora untied the scroll and read it aloud:

  “My dear daughter,” she read, “your hostility saddens and confuses me. I was destroyed when you and your husband went missing, and now you have returned alone, and with no explanation of what took place. Please dine with me tonight. No guards. Just you and me. Tell me of your ordeal. Signed and sealed: HM Radovan, Holy Emissary and Sovereign of the Southern Realm.”

  “An obvious trap,” Nastasha said. “He’ll have you killed.”

  “Not before we dine. And I can poison his drink when he’s distracted,” said Eleonora.

  “Well, well,” Jaimin said. “That might work.”

  “Let me go in your place,” Elaina said. “If the situation falls apart, I can take his life with the dagger and restore it just as quickly, completing our task.”

  “What? Surely he can tell you and your sister apart,” said Jaimin. Elaina reached out and tested the length of her sister’s hair against hers. It was the same length, the same dark brown color, and it had the same wave to it. And their faces were nearly identical: Elaina’s face was full because of her rich farmer’s diet, and Eleonora’s was full due to her pregnancy. Elaina’s more muscular form could easily pass as baby weight in the right outfit. “He’d know from your mannerisms, and your accent,” Jaimin insisted.

  “I don’t have an accent,” Elaina said.

  “Sorry, girl, but you do,” Eleonora said.

  “Your father picked up on my accent after just a few words,” Nastasha said.

  “Teach me your accent, then,” Elaina told her sister. “I learn fast, and we have all day.”

  “Okay, we’ll work on it,” Eleonora replied, “but if you still sound like you in the afternoon, I’m going to dine with Denda.”

  “Fair enough,” said Elaina. “I accept your challenge.”

  Around noon, Eleonora’s
guards called her to a parlor nearby. They had a man detained, seated against the base of the wall, with his hands bound behind his back and his face shaded in the hood of a deep blue cloak.

  “He surrendered to us,” her guard captain explained. “He claims to have a message which he will tell only you. What shall we do with him?”

  Eleonora approached the prisoner. “Stand him up,” she told the guards. They did, and she carefully lifted the rim of his hood. She at once noticed his odd eyes: one appeared stunningly blue and clear, and the other was red and afflicted. His grey hair looked scraggly and untended.

  “Ah,” said the man, smiling broadly, his peculiar eyes lighting up with excitement. He laughed nervously.

  “What is this creature doing in my father’s house?” she asked her captain.

  The bound man answered with a whisper: “It was my house before it was his.”

  And suddenly she recognized who this was. During her childhood, Eleonora had believed most of what her father told her, but the one story she always held doubts about concerned her grandfather’s death. She always suspected King Errol might still be alive somewhere. And now, at one of the most fragile moments of her life, here he was.

  She tried to appear calm. “Have you been here all these years?” she asked Errol.

  “Oh, there’s so much you need to know. I must speak with you alone.”

  She made her guards sit Errol in a padded chair, with his hands still bound. “Wait just outside,” she told the guards.

  And then she walked behind the hooded king.

  “Speak,” she said. “You’re behind this madness, aren’t you?”

  “Eleonora, all these years I’ve had to hide, desperate to reach out to you. Can I ask for but a few words of kindness?”

  “If you killed my husband you’ll get few words out of me. Speak the truth now and say if it was you.”