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I FOLLOW FINN THROUGH the dank corridor, catching my feet on the uneven floor. I can hear the rats scampering away from us – hopefully away – and I want to cry. I can feel the heat from Will behind me and I can hear the battle in my room and I feel sick of it all; there’s no peace, no rest. As soon as things are calm and going well, something trips us up.
I’m running away again, letting others fight my battles. “Everleigh, you have to be safe.” Will’s voice is an urgent whisper and I know he’s right. I cannot risk being killed and leaving the Realm with no one to rule it.
But I’m not really ruling it now, I’m just running around in circles, reacting to attacks or decisions other people make. I’m not in charge.
If I was in charge though, what would be different? I’m not safe. If Millard was dead or locked up who’s to say these attacks would even stop?
In the name of the King. Does that mean Millard is hidden away somewhere commanding people to hurt me? Or are these people who hate me or want to cause trouble, regardless of Millard? How would I know? But with only two people able to protect me, I’m vulnerable. I need to show the Realm that I’m strong, stand up and tell them that Millard is gone and I will be their ruler from now on. I am their Queen and I demand their respect and loyalty. Attacks will not be tolerated.
The tunnel ends in the stables and we are like a gaggle of clucking hens bustling around with no direction. Addyson is whimpering, and shaking. “Della, take her with you. You, Finn and the teacher, go to her room, lock the door, push her bed up against it, make sure you’re barricaded in. Safe.”
Della nods and gathers Addyson to her. Finn and the teacher surround her and I can only hope they will be safe. “Quickly,” I tell them, who knows how many other hooded men are wandering around.
I pull Ginata and Will close to me. “We need to see what happened in the courtyard, if there’s any more danger. Then we need to go back to Ceryn and Archer, check that they’re safe.” We grab axes from the stable floor and troop out to the courtyard.
It’s empty and quiet, but we can see what made the noise that drew us all to the window. “A diversion,” Will says as we walk towards the horse and cart. The cart is filled with a load of Cook’s pans and they are all upturned on to the floor.
“The kitchen.” I run and the others follow me. Cook is fine, red faced with fury and tied up so she cannot move, her back against her oven. Will grabs a knife and unties her. He helps her to her feet. Her wrists are bright red and she’s crying as she rubs at them. I embrace her, and pat her back. “You’re alright, you’re safe. It’s all fine.”
“It’s bloody not. Cheeky beggars coming in here and tying me up. Stealing all my pans. What did they do with them? I heard a crash?”
“They just wanted a diversion, a noise to get attention. They came to my room to attack me.”
Cook clutches at her chest. “The Realm has gone mad, mad.”
Will finds a drink and holds it while Cook slowly takes sips. She’s shaking a little less. “Better?”
She nods and then shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m too old for all of this. It’s all gone to pot since your father died.”
“You’re right. I’ve got to fix it, make it right. Everyone should feel safe. Did you recognise any of them?”
“No, they all had hoods on, cowards. If you believe in your cause, show your face, I say.”
“You’re right. I don’t know if they even have a cause. If they’re working for my brother or just hooligans, looking for trouble.”
“We may never know.”
“Are you fine if we go? We want to see if Ceryn and Archer are alright.”
“Yes. I’m made of tough stuff.”
“Go to Addyson’s room. At least you won’t be on your own.”
“I’ll stay here, if you don’t mind. I won’t be driven out of my kitchen.”
“Keep a knife close by you.”
“Oh, I will.” She looks quite formidable and I feel a rush of affection for her. Cook has been feeding me since I was a baby, never asking for anything, always there, quietly getting on with things. I hate that she’s been brought into this. But she’s not the first and she won’t be the last. Damn my brother!
“Ready?” Ginata and Will nod, though Ginata looks quite pale. “Ginata? Ginata?” As I step towards her she swoons and Will manages to catch her and lay her softly on the floor. She’s out cold. Fainted.
“Leave her here. You two go do what you need to. Just be careful. I’d much rather be cooking for a Queen than a King. No offence to your brother.”
“I think you’re allowed to offend him, Cook. Not to worry.”
We step quietly across the courtyard and I reach for Will’s hand. I need to feel less alone. What if we head up to my room and Ceryn and Archer are dead? I couldn’t stand losing either of them.
We are slow and silent as we move through the castle, checking around each corner before we step out and show ourselves. An attack could come from anywhere. My home just doesn’t feel like mine anymore.
We wait around the corner from my room, listening, but there is only silence, thick and tense. I look at Will and he nods. We raise our axes, probably looking as foolish as I certainly feel.
The door is ajar and Will steps in front of me, ignoring my protests.
The three hooded men are all dead, heaped on the floor, blood puddling under them. Ceryn is injured, I can see the blood pouring from a gash on her arm. Archer looks fine, if a little white.
I rush towards them and they both step towards me so we end up in a sort of huddle. Will awkwardly joins us, wrapping his arms around the three of us.
I lose it then; I can’t help it. These men came so close to me, to my sister, to my friends. They could have easily killed any one of us.
“Well, they reckon they’re not working for your brother, they have no idea where he is; they’re just vigilantes.”
“Dead vigilantes.” Ceryn winces as Archer ties a strip of material tightly over her wound. “That hurts.”
“It’ll stop it bleeding. We’ll get Ginata to look at it.”
“She fainted so we left her in the kitchen. But the teacher will do it.”
“Where is everyone?”
“Gone to Addyson’s room. We left Ginata in the kitchen with Cook. They’d tied Cook up, stole her pots and pans to make that racket. Clever, I suppose.”
“The door was unlocked,” Ceryn says suddenly. “When they got here. Wasn’t I the last one to open it? I came in with all the little maids. With the food.”
I shake my head. “I’m not having any of us blame ourselves or each other.”
And I mean it. None of us are perfect and we’re all just trying our best. We can’t turn on each other now. “If they couldn’t get in they would have waited for one of us to go out and then they would have killed someone. Come on, let’s get you to the teacher. We can’t stay here with these, anyway.” I gesture to the dead bodies, their hoods pulled back off their faces. I don’t recognise any of them and I’m a bit relieved.
I can’t imagine wanting to sleep in this room again, though. Room by room this castle is becoming uninhabitable for me.
We look in on Cook on our way past, she’s placed a blanket over Ginata and the fire is roaring. She’s sitting in a rocking chair, sipping on a drink. “How are you?”
“Right as rain.” She lifts her cup in a cheers motion and I can’t help but smile at her gutsiness.
We troop to Addyson’s room, wait while they open the door and then pour in. “Ceryn’s hurt but Ginata fainted.”
The teacher assesses Ceryn. “I need to go to Ginata’s rooms. I can’t do anything here.”
“We’ll all go.”
Will and Finn lay Ceryn on the bench in Ginata’s room, while the teacher goes through the drawers looking for what he needs. “Is the door locked?” Ceryn asks, her voice tight with pain.
“Yes.” I’m sure Archer did it when we came in, but I turn to him. He nods but goes to check anyway.
And drops to the floor.
I scream his name and fall to my knees beside him. The teacher comes to his side and feels his forehead. “He’s burning up.”
“Archer, Archer.” I shake him as I call his name, but he’s not conscious. He’s breathing though. “What’s wrong with him?”
The teacher shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s the exertion of the fight. He’s too fit for that.”
He pulls at Archer’s top, to look at his wounds from when Millard almost killed him. Even I can see that the wound on his left, just above his hip bone, is wrong. It’s red and swollen looking, tinged with green.
“What is it?”
“I think he’s got an infection, in his wound. Everleigh, it’s not good. Everyone in the other room.”
“Why? What do you need to do? I won’t leave him.”
I cannot have Archer die again.