Aluna heard Willan’s footsteps hurrying away. Sitting by the carriage window that faced the palace, she wondered why he wanted to protect her so much. Why sacrifice his status, his future marriage and his father’s love? It was ridiculous. Her life was worth far less than his, and he would have to be crazy to doubt it.
She looked out the window, hoping to catch one last glimpse of the prince, but he was already gone. Instead she saw several people preparing the carriages. Some were loading barrels while others checked on the animals at the head of the convoy. She watched them come and go for a moment, then noticed men walking out of the palace. One was the stranger she had just met, deep in conversation with the king and one of the Ælves. What were they talking about? Probably the goings-on at court, politics, the details of the impending trip—or even the execution. She watched them pensively until the man with the unusual hair looked over and met her eyes. Uncomfortable, she retreated from the window and settled back in her seat.
There was something else on her mind, besides the queen’s punishment. She and Larzac had had a long discussion the night before. The druid had been honest with her, explaining that her chance of conquering the monster inside her was slim. It would be wiser to freeze and trap the beast while there was still time. And if, at the same time, her sacrifice also helped keep the peace between kingdoms, she would have to be satisfied with that.
I’m going to die. . . The thought made her smile. After running from it for so long, death had finally caught up to her. Her life had never been her own—it had always been Elena’s. It was only fair that she should hand herself over to the queen. She had never been anything more than a face hidden in her sister’s shadow: a ghost without a name, without a real life. She closed her eyes and tried to remember everything about her mother’s last visit. How would she react if she knew what was happening to her daughter? Would she be sad or relieved not to have to keep her secret any longer? She had not answered her cries for help; maybe she did not care about her anymore.
Lost in thought, Aluna did not hear the carriage door open. The somber-looking man slid in beside her. She ventured a glance in his direction and saw him gesture to someone out the window. She heard the coaches ahead start moving, then felt the jolt as their own set out after them. A light breeze hit inside the vehicle, blowing the strange man’s hair, who immediately reached over to shut the window.
Through the back window, Aluna looked one last time at the castle, which was growing further away on the horizon. She realized she would never return. Her stay at the palace had come to an end—a time full of happy memories, memories of a life she previously never could have dreamed of.
“You must be terribly sad to leave the prince,” her traveling companion teased her.
She turned away from the window. “Why would I be?”
“I understood you two were close. Was I mistaken?”
“The prince is betrothed,” she answered quickly.
“I never said anything about . . . that type of relationship,” he replied, a smile on his lips. “I was talking about a close friendship, but it seems you were thinking of something else.”
“We’re not friends either, if that’s your question.” She looked away, hoping he would stop questioning her.
“Well, if you say so.” He let the matter drop.
A long, tense silence followed. Aluna regretted having been so brusque and apologized. “That was rude, excuse me.”
“It was nothing. You’re tense—which is understandable, given the situation.”
“Oh, right, that. But um . . . who are you? I understand you are my guard, but I don’t know anything about you. If the queen entrusted you to bring me to her, you must be more than a simple jailer, right? A lieutenant perhaps?”
He gave a small laugh. “Not exactly.”
“Have I said something funny?”
“Well, first of all, I’m not a guard. Just a friend of the queen who wanted to help.”
“Oh. So you’re a noble then?” she asked, skeptical.
“No, not a noble either.” He smiled. “I am the prince of Thundez . . . the second-born prince, that is.”
She frowned. “You’re the prince of the kingdom of Thundez?”
“In the flesh. I’m Siruth—I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself yet.”
The prince of Thundez . . . why would she see this man in her dreams? What link could there possibly be between them?
“I apologize again for my attitude, Your Highness, I did not know you were a prince. I am. . .”
“Aluna. I know. And please behave normally with me. Don’t think of me as a prince during our trip. I’m merely your traveling companion. No ‘Your Highness’ or exaggerated courtesy, agreed?”
She nodded.
“Perfect. In that case, I should let you know our journey is rather long. The Crystallia palace is a dozen days from here by carriage, so I think you should get some rest.”
As he spoke, the prince gestured to the seat across from them. There was a blanket, large enough for one person to curl up and sleep. Aluna understood what he was saying but shook her head. The man insisted. “The trip will be long; you should take any chance you have to sleep.”
“I’m not tired. When is our next stop? Seeing as this is my only chance to travel, I want to enjoy every part of it.”
“The Sacred Forest. We’ll stop there but you won’t be leaving the carriage, so don’t make any plans to explore.”
“Why is that? You know I won’t run away.”
“I know, but the forest can be dangerous.”
“I’ve already been there and I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.”
“I know you’ve been there—if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here right now,” he teased her. “But the forest is especially dangerous when night falls, which is why people don’t venture there after dark. All the locals know to stay away.”
“You crossed through it yourself to get to the palace,” Aluna retorted, unconvinced. “And apparently you didn’t have a royal escort. If it’s so dangerous, why didn’t you take soldiers to protect you? If it’s so frightening, two soldiers wouldn’t be enough, would they?”
Siruth looked at her, then burst out laughing. Aluna waited for him to stop. Once he did, he said, “You really are adorable!”
“What . . . what did I say?”
“Excuse me, I didn’t mean to laugh. Actually, you might say that I am the escort. I’m responsible for the security of our convoy, but I do have help—Medras and Halmar, the two soldiers.”
“You?”
“Yes. You seem so surprised, I’m almost insulted! Is it that implausible?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “But given your position, I didn’t even consider you would escort a convoy of prisoners. Besides—and stop me if I’m wrong—you look too young for such a responsibility. You don’t look much older than I am.”
“The queen is a friend of mine. I was visiting Crystallia when she found out about this incident, so I offered my help. She wanted to refuse, but she knows that between my love of travel and my need for exercise, I would have gone anyway. I know how to handle danger. As for my age, I think you’ll agree that’s a pretty personal question.”
“I understand,” Aluna said.
She did not dare to add anything. She felt so ashamed about her breach of etiquette that she resolved not to ask him any more personal questions.
Siruth settled back to admire the landscape and Aluna decided to take his advice. She curled up on the seat with the blanket and tried to sleep, wondering if she would still see the prince in her dreams now that they had met. She dwelled on old memories until her mind carried her away to a castle, a bed with silk sheets in which a man with silver-streaked hair was sleeping peacefully.
∾
All day long, Siruth had watched the fields and meadows of Goran go by. They had reached the entrance to the Sacred Forest hours before and continued on into the woods. The sun had set and given way to the crescent moon. The journey to Crystallia was long and arduous, Siruth knew that all too well. They would have to travel the full length of the Sacred River before reaching the tunnel to the Ice Kingdom, which would take them several days.
The prince turned from the window to the girl sleeping across from him. She was curled up like a child and appeared to be in a deep sleep. He couldn’t help but smile looking at her. Then he turned his attention to the map of Iriah he was holding.
He had received it when he was a child, just before his first journey. Now it was ancient and covered with all the arrows and circles he had drawn on it over the years. He could easily pick out the oldest marks: the ones encircling the palaces of Crystallia, Goran and Firania. Arrows marked, among others, the road connecting Goran and Crystallia. The map was not easy to read, but Siruth was used to it. He had studied it so often that he had memorized nearly all of the routes and roads. He did not really need it anymore, but it had sentimental value. It was the first gift he had ever accepted from his mother, the first to awaken a need in him, to give him a purpose in life.
The carriage stopped abruptly. Siruth tucked the map away and looked outside. Even though the moon had begun to light the trees, he could not make out much. Still, when he heard voices coming from the front of the convoy, he decided to check what was happening.
He saw they were stopped in a large clearing and assumed that Aktras had chosen to set up camp for the night. Walking up to the head carriage, he found the messenger talking with Medras.
“Will this clearing do the trick?” he asked them.
“The animals can’t see a thing anymore,” Aktras replied, turning to face him. “It would be wise for us to rest.”
“I agree. I’ll stand watch, you can go back inside.”
“Fine. First I’ll get some food and something to keep us warm.”
Medras went to the middle carriage and brought out three wool blankets, some bread and dried meat. He was coming back when the prince noticed that the second guard was not around.
“Where’s Halmar?”
“He’s worn out. He’s sleeping in the vehicle. Medras will take the second shift tonight.”
“I’m not surprised. He spent a lot of time keeping watch on our way here—much more than I did. And the drivers?”
“They’re in their own tents, under that tree over there.”
“I see,” Siruth said, taking note of their location. “You can go.”
Aktras returned to the coach with Medras.
Once he was alone, Siruth found his sword in the supply carriage and slid it into the scabbard at his waist. Then he went to look for a spot where he could keep an eye on the whole convoy. He found a large stone that would work and sat down. He drew out his weapon, set it on the ground and closed his eyes to focus on the sounds of the forest. He knew it would be a long night.
∾
Kenton had just been told the girl with ebony skin was gone. She would be sacrificed to Cristallia to pay for the crime the prince had committed in saving her. And things would finally return to normal.
Delighted with the news, the captain of the guard suppressed a smile and tried to focus on the palace’s master-at-arms, who was presenting his semi-annual report. He informed him that the day’s training session had gone perfectly, with no incidents to report. The kingdom was at peace but tradition still required that all men over sixteen be instructed in the art of combat. Thus, they all reported once a week for a two-hour training session, which ensured the royal army was always ready. Terigon was in charge of the training because of his war experience, but his responsibilities ended there. His three deputies—soldiers who had proven themselves in battle—administered the test assigning citizens to different branches of the royal army.
Kenton nodded when the master-at-arms finished his report. He congratulated him on his work and dismissed him. The numbers Terigon reported had been rising steadily since the end of the war, probably due to the peak in birth rates twenty years earlier. Kenton was pleased. Of course he preferred peacetime but he knew from experience that the kingdom could never be too prepared.
“Captain?”
Kenton turned around. He was accustomed to Alderian, his second lieutenant and the master spy of the palace, appearing in his chambers without warning. So he watched calmly as the silhouette of the young lieutenant emerged from the shadows, dark and as slender as ever. He bowed in greeting.
Kenton gestured to him to speak, and Alderian simply handed him a sheet of paper. When the captain of the guard looked at it, he was surprised to recognize Aluna, every feature of her face perfectly captured. The resemblance was astonishing. He knew very well that Alderian had no artist in his ranks yet he asked, more out of curiosity than necessity: “Who drew this?”
“An artist in Basroc.”
“I knew your men were discreet.” He smiled. “But why are you giving me this? I’m sure that you are aware by now the girl is gone. There’s no point in looking for her anymore. Even if she was a spy or a rebel, it does not matter anymore.”
“You should take a look.”
He examined the drawing, puzzled. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“Check the other side.”
Kenton turned the paper over and scanned the notes on the other side: District, Address, Last Name, First Name, Age, Identity of Family Members. It was all basic information—nothing alarming. Neither her father’s last name, Althorid, nor her stepfather’s, Sachs, stood out to him, which meant she probably did not come from a background of criminals. Actually, the brief report even indicated that Aluna was from a good family. Kenton went over the notes again to check if he had missed something, and one line finally caught his attention. Last Name: Sachs, First Name. . . Elena!
He frowned. “A fake name? Why would she lie about that?”
“Probably because she’s hiding a bigger secret.”
A bigger secret. . . That was probably it. The prince had once mentioned that his friend had had a difficult childhood, though he had not given Kenton any details. However, Alderian’s information did not suggest anything of the sort. Kenton was curious to find out more but he knew that even if the girl was a threat, it no longer mattered. Destiny had condemned her to death.
Still, he asked, “Did you learn anything else?”
“My men were discreet and they stopped at the first suspicious discovery, just as you ordered.”
“You did well. This information alone would have been enough to justify opening a full investigation.”
“Another thing: she lied about more than her name. There is nothing in Arabica but ruins; she lived in Minabis.”
“Noted. Although all this is useless now. Thank you for your work. You may go.”
The spy did not need to be asked twice; he disappeared as quickly as he had arrived. Kenton sat on his bed and mulled over what he had just learned. He was certainly relieved that the girl’s fate had already been decided, because he had a feeling her fake name was hiding secrets that could put the whole kingdom in jeopardy.