CHAPTER TWELVE
As planned, Kiva started the next day with her early morning fitness training — another gruelling session, but on the plus side, she only vomited once.
The only hiccup came when Jaren called out just as she was leaving the training yard. For a moment, she feared he might have cleared his schedule to spend time with her, but he only apologized for not seeing her much the previous day, claiming to have been away from the city helping to rebuild a nearby village.
Before she could ask about it, he inquired about her visit to Silverthorn, and she launched into an account of her hours spent with Rhessinda. Jaren seemed delighted to hear about their budding friendship, making it easy for Kiva to share her false plans for the day, with him saying he was relieved because he had a full plate of meetings ahead anyway.
Hearing that, Kiva worried about missing an opportunity to eavesdrop, but when he mentioned the Merchants Guild, the Dockworkers Union, and the Minstrels Society — among others — she realized his appointments would be similar to the latter half of what the Royal Council meeting had covered, none of which would be relevant to her spying mission.
They parted ways when a message arrived from the minister of finance requesting Jaren’s immediate presence, causing him to look at Kiva with woeful eyes, begging for her to save him. She only grinned and teased, “Poor baby prince,” before telling him that the sooner he went to his meetings, the sooner he could be free.
Back in her room, Kiva bathed quickly and ate a light breakfast as she dressed for her outing, adding a hooded cloak to protect her from the coastal breeze she would encounter on her journey — and affording her discretion if needed.
Remembering to pinch a dose of muscle relaxant into her tea to help stave off the pain Caldon’s session would later prompt, Kiva gulped it down and hurried from her room. She paused only twice on her way out of the palace: once when she passed Tipp and Oriel chasing Flox through the halls, the
middle-aged Tutor Edna running after them and mumbling a prayer for patience, and the second time when Naari called her name, right as she was stepping out of the entrance hall.
“I hear you’re heading to Silverthorn again,” the guard stated.
Kiva was surprised that Naari wasn’t shadowing Jaren’s footsteps, but then she realized that many of his conversations must be confidential, just like the Royal Council meeting.
“I’m spending time with one of the healers,” Kiva confirmed, keeping her expression open and honest.
Naari looked at her closely before sharing, “Jaren says it’s important that you don’t feel trapped here, that you’ve had ten years of being a prisoner and you deserve to remember what it means to be free.”
The last thing I want is to make her feel like she’s trapped in another kind of cage.
Jaren’s words from two days earlier returned to Kiva, his thoughtfulness cutting her deep all over again.
“But you should know he’s worried about your safety,” Naari continued, “especially after what happened the other night. He won’t take away your freedom — he’d never do that to you. So I’m asking you to have a care.” Her amber eyes held Kiva’s. “I’ve posted extra sentries along the River Road with orders to watch out for you, but there’s a lot of foot traffic between here and Silverthorn, and even the most attentive of guards can miss things. Jaren won’t say it at the risk of making you feel shackled, but I think you already know it would destroy him if something happened to you. So be smart.”
Kiva’s breath was trapped somewhere in her lungs, stopping her from responding, but she nodded her understanding — and her agreement.
“Caldon says you’re useless with a blade,” Naari went on, pulling a dagger from her cloak, “but I’d still feel better knowing you had one. Just in case.”
Trying to hide the tremble in her hands, Kiva took the weapon and listened as Naari offered instructions on how to strap it to her calf, tucked beneath the leather of her boot but still within easy reach.
“Don’t stab yourself,” Naari warned.
“Why do people keep telling me that?” Kiva muttered.
Naari’s lips twitched before she repeated her demand to be careful and vanished back into the palace.
Letting out a long breath, Kiva set off for Silverthorn, mulling over the
guard’s conversation. She didn’t like the idea that Jaren was worried about her, but then she reminded herself that she shouldn’t care what he felt.
The last thing I want is to make her feel like she’s trapped in another kind of cage.
Everworld help her, why did he have to be so . . . Jaren? She knew it would be so much easier for him to order guards to follow her, or even request that she stay inside the palace grounds where it was safe. But he hadn’t, instead putting her needs first, just as he always had.
On that thought, Kiva shook her head and imagined a mental door slamming shut, picking up her pace as she headed along the River Road. She was acutely aware of Naari’s patrolling guards monitoring her from somewhere amongst the crowds, but instead of their hidden presence making her feel safer, her skin was crawling, like they would somehow be able to read her mind — and her guilt. The feeling only passed when she ascended the hill to Silverthorn and reached the campus grounds, finding Rhessinda waiting for her at the arched entrance.
“Perfect timing,” the healer said with a bright smile. She had a large pack slung over her shoulder, likely filled with her medical supplies for the day.
“Ready for an adventure?”
Kiva was more than ready, even if her stomach bubbled with nerves as she followed Rhess to the small stable complex situated just through the academy’s front gates.
“I’m guessing you haven’t ridden much in the last ten years?” Rhess asked, approaching a young stableboy who held the reins of two healthy- looking horses, one chestnut, one gray.
“That would be accurate,” Kiva said, warily eyeing the horses. The last time she’d ridden on her own, it had been atop her family’s docile old pony, a much, much smaller creature than those standing before her.
“We’ll go easy,” Rhess promised, before helping Kiva mount the gray mare who was charmingly named Bluebell.
Purposefully ignoring how far away the ground was, Kiva waited until Rhess was mounted on the chestnut before she casually asked, “Any chance we can avoid taking the River Road out of the city?”
A beat of silence passed before the healer observed, “It sounds suspiciously like you want to sneak out.”
Thinking of the added guards monitoring the main thoroughfare, Kiva admitted, “I haven’t told anyone where we’re going, and I’d prefer to keep it
that way. At least until — until —” She didn’t have a way to finish her sentence, but Rhess’s features softened.
“Hey, we all have our secrets,” she said with understanding. “As long as they don’t put either of us in danger, I don’t mind keeping yours. I meant it when I said that yesterday — you can trust me.”
Kiva blew out a breath. “Thanks.”
Rhessinda considered for a moment before saying, “I know the backstreets pretty well. We can use them to get to the South Watch, but we’ll have to jump back on the main road after we’re through the city walls.”
“That’s fine,” Kiva said. They were probably safe to take the River Road the entire way, since Naari had mentioned how the busy traffic meant the guards could miss things — and they wouldn’t be expecting Kiva to be on horseback. But the backstreets would limit the risk significantly.
With the new route set, Rhess gave Kiva a brief reminder of the riding basics, and then they set off together from the academy.
Oakhollow was a half-hour ride from Vallenia, but that wasn’t counting how long it took them to reach the edge of the city, their pace slower than it would have been had they taken the direct route along the river. Still, they eventually reached the South Watch and rode straight toward the wide open gates, passing travelers coming to and from the capital, many driving carts loaded with wares to trade, others wearing sigils marking them as messengers, and some just common city folk going about their days.
Kiva kept the hood up on her cloak and avoided eye contact with any of the watch guards, but she and Rhessinda encountered no problems, and were soon through the fortified city walls and riding swiftly along a well-worn dirt road. At first the crowds remained thick, but as they continued on, passing farms on either side until they turned off onto the coastal track, they eventually had the road to themselves.
“How’s your confidence?” Rhess asked, gesturing toward Bluebell.
“Ready to pick up the pace?”
“If I fall off and break my everything, you’ll put me back together, right?” Kiva asked, only half joking.
The healer grinned and nudged her horse forward, prompting Kiva to do the same with Bluebell, the mare’s long legs eating up the ground as they followed the track up a smooth rise and then along the cliffside path hugging the coastline. The sea breeze was crisp, but with the wind having pushed back her hood and her hair flying out behind her as they cantered high above the
cerulean ocean, Kiva felt more invigorated than she had in a long time. She wanted to whoop and shout and laugh at the feeling, longing for it to last forever. But all too soon they had to leave the seaside and slow down, passing through numerous crossroads and into a heavily wooded forest.
“We’re nearly there,” Rhess said, tossing a water flask to Kiva. She indicated the trees surrounding them and continued, “This is the Emelda Forest. Oakhollow sits close to the edge, but the woods continue all the way down to Avila. It’s easy to get lost in here, so make sure you don’t wander too far from town today. You wouldn’t be the first person to never come out again.”
Kiva shuddered, the shadowy woodland seeming more sinister than before. But then the trees began to thin as the path opened up, a small, picturesque village quickly coming into view.
“If I leave you at the tavern, are you good to make your way to your family on your own?” Rhess asked as they rode out from the forest and into the bright sunshine.
Kiva nodded, even if she had no idea yet where in the village her family was. But the tavern would be the best place to ask after them.
Together Kiva and Rhess ventured deeper into the village, passing little wooden cottages with flowerpots in their windows, before finding a blacksmith, a small apothecary, a tailor’s workshop, a bake house, and an outdoor market. In the center of it all was a larger establishment with a painted sign hanging over the door, curved script reading The Tippled Boar resting above a picture of a dancing pig that somehow managed to look highly inebriated.
“There’s a stable out the back,” Rhess said, when they halted near the entryway. Before she’d even finished, a young girl ran up to them, hay sticking to her messy clothes and the pungent scent of manure making it clear what her role was.
Rhessinda flicked her a silver coin and motioned for Kiva to dismount.
She groaned when she landed on the ground, her legs stiff and backside aching despite the medicinal powder she’d taken that morning.
“Just wait until tonight,” Rhess said, laughing.
The stablegirl hurried off with Bluebell, leaving Kiva to say, “I’ll meet you back here in a few hours?”
“Let’s aim for mid-afternoon,” Rhess confirmed, gathering her reins.
“We’ll want to have you back in the city well before dark.”
Kiva agreed, since the last thing she needed was for someone from the palace to start worrying enough to seek her out at Silverthorn.
“If you need help with any of your patients . . .” Kiva trailed off, realizing that she didn’t know how to end her offer, since it wasn’t as if she could say, Come and find me.
Thankfully, Rhess didn’t notice her hesitation and just said, “Thanks, but you should enjoy your time with your family.”
Kiva hoped that was possible, but considering their last encounter, she wasn’t holding her breath.
Waving, Rhessinda nudged her horse away from the tavern. Kiva watched until she disappeared deeper into the village, then turned her attention back to the painted pig. She was careful to wipe the distaste from her expression before she stepped through the open doorway.
The interior of the Tippled Boar was much like any other inn she had encountered, both as a child with her parents and during the more recent weeks of travel from the winter palace to Vallenia. Low-lit luminium beacons chased away most of the shadows, and yet the grimy space still remained dark and gloomy, even with the sunshine trying to peek through the dirty windows — all of which were surrounded by numerous stuffed boar heads mounted to the walls.
An overpowering scent of ale tickled Kiva’s nostrils as she walked deeper into the room, where a handful of patrons already sat at wooden tables and swayed on stools despite it being barely midmorning. She kept her head down as she passed them, moving straight to the oaken bar at the back of the room, behind which stood the middle-aged innkeeper wiping a soiled cloth
along the wood.
“Hello,” Kiva said.
The man flicked his dark eyes up to her but said nothing.
“I, um, I’m hoping you can help me find someone,” she said.
“You orderin’ a drink?” he asked in a gruff, gravelly voice.
“I — well —” Kiva stuttered, before pasting a friendly smile on her face.
“It’s a bit early for me. Perhaps later, after I’ve found who I’m looking for.”
Again, the innkeeper said nothing.
Kiva took that as an invitation, and asked, “Do you know Zuleeka and Torell Meridan?” She didn’t dare use the name Corentine, hoping her siblings weren’t foolish enough to go about flaunting their bloodline. “They’re a little older than me. Similar features.”
“Who wants to know?” the innkeeper asked.
“Their sister,” Kiva answered. “Kiva Meridan.”
A thunk sounded from beside her when a full mug of ale slammed onto the bar, liquid sloshing over the sides as an older man toppled onto the nearest stool and leaned precariously toward her. “Keeeeeva,” he slurred.
“Tha’s a purrrty name. I’m Grum — Grumed — Grumedon.”
He looked pleased with himself when he finally shared his name, hiccupping between attempts and smiling a brown-toothed grin at her.
“How ’bout some bread, Grum?” the innkeeper asked, his gruff voice softening as he looked at the man. “Some stew? On the house.”
Grumedon took a swig of his ale. “’S too early fer food. But keep these comin’.” He waved the mug, more sloshing over the edges, some splashing down onto Kiva’s boots.
“Grum —” the innkeeper started, but the drunken man spoke over him.
“Wha’s a purty place like you doin’ in a girl like this?” Grumedon asked Kiva.
“I’m looking for my family,” she answered his mangled question.
“Zuleeka and Torell Meridan.”
“Ha!” Grum said, slamming his mug loudly, a wave of foam slopping over the top. “I knews it.”
He said no more, so Kiva prompted, “You knews — erm, knew — what?”
Grumedon pointed a gnarled finger at her. “You ’ave yer mama’s eyes.”
Before Kiva could get over the shock of his statement, his body slumped and his head fell onto the bar, with loud, drunken snoring erupting from his wide open mouth.
The innkeeper sighed and took the mug away, wiping up the spilled liquid. “Every day, the same. He’ll be out for hours.” At whatever he saw on Kiva’s face, he added, “Grum’s lived a hard life, but he does all right. He’s got people who care for him — they’ll come and get him soon, make sure he’s safe and warm. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”
Unable to help herself, Kiva rasped, “Was my mother one of those people?”
The innkeeper said nothing, his standard response. But he surprised her when he pulled a piece of grubby parchment and a quill out from beneath the bar.
“Write a note. I’ll see what I can do,” he offered, albeit still gruffly.
Hope filled her, but Kiva was quick to say, “I need to see them today. As soon as possible. It’s important.”
The innkeeper made no promises, only repeated, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Realizing it was the best deal she would get, Kiva hurried to write her message.
I’m at the Tippled Boar. Need to speak with you. Urgent.
There was nothing secretive about what she wrote, but she still used the code only her siblings would understand, falling back into old habits.
“What’s this?” the innkeeper asked, holding the note up to the light and frowning.
“Zuleeka and Torell Meridan,” Kiva reminded him. “They’ll be able to read it.”
He made a grunting sound and placed it in his back pocket, but he made no move to do anything with it.
“When I said it’s important, I meant life and death,” Kiva told him. Her life or death, if she didn’t get her magic under control. “Please, I only have a few hours.”
His eyes came back to hers. “You orderin’ a drink?”
Kiva gritted her teeth and shook her head.
He jerked his thumb to a doorway at the back of the tavern. “Then you can wait outside.”
“Please,” Kiva said again, this time in a whisper.
The man only pointed again, then turned and disappeared into the room behind the bar. A young woman took his place, pulling a face as she picked up his soiled cloth and swapped it for a fresh one.
With nothing left but to trust that the innkeeper would pass along her message, Kiva sighed and headed in the direction he’d pointed, stepping through the doorway to find a small open courtyard.
There were no other patrons outside, so she removed her cloak and sat at one of the wooden tables. Seconds later, the barmaid appeared and placed a steaming mug in front of Kiva, smiling and winking before she vanished back inside, calling over her shoulder, “Say hi to Tor for me.”
Having no desire to read into the suggestive words, Kiva took a sip of the drink — spiced milk and honey — and tipped her face to the sunshine, willing her tight limbs to relax as she resigned herself to wait.
