Chapter 21: Chapter 21

he descent into darkness slowed their pace, but the man who forced her along seemed confident moving down the dark tunnel. It was cold, and goosebumps rose on her skin.

Their footsteps echoed with each drop of a heel on the stone steps. Cold leached up through her soles. In the silence, she swore she could hear him counting a memorized distance.

“Where are we going?” If she could gather enough hints for where they were, she might get away.

He brought them to a halt. “As I said, to see Russal. It’s what you want; though, shortly you will despise yourself for wanting it.” When he resumed their forward motion, the murmur of counting under his breath recommenced.

They pivoted left, and she barely avoided slipping to her knees down an incline. He caught her and braced her until she came to flat ground. At no point did he release her, keeping his grip tight on her bicep. “Not much longer.”

Kambry gripped her skirts, holding them up for fear of tripping. There were signs of the tunnel having multiple outlets. She suspected that was why he was counting steps and stopped to answer her. Getting away might have to wait until they had exited. Getting lost beneath the castle wasn’t inviting.

He picked up the pace, leading her straight ahead for at least a hundred feet. After stopping a moment, she heard stone grating against stone, felt a draft and then a breeze. Moonlight brightened the pavers ahead of them.

“We’ve more to go yet. Stay close.” He dragged her tight to him and gripped her other arm behind her, pressing her forward ahead of him.

Only moonlight lit the garden she recognized by its fragrance and the rustling of the leaves on the ornamental trees. The shadows changed the landmarks of the private park so she could not at first discern where they were in the vast

cultivated space. A quick glance over her shoulder gave her an anchor. The lit windows of the great hall, off in the distance behind the garden wall, hung directly behind her over the front portion of the garden. So they were not as far into the garden as the view out her chambers provided and, therefore, close to the gate into the inner bailey. If she could break free, she might make it to the guard’s hall before he could catch up to her. She wouldn’t even have to run that far if she screamed the whole way.

She could scream now.

He jerked her back and his hand flattened against her face, squeezing her nose shut and thrusting her chin up. Her teeth snapped together. She could barely get a thin inhale and exhale through his firm muffling. His face brushed her cheek.

“Kambry, you must trust me. I’m trying to save you. You push me to restrain you since I can’t rely on you to be patient.” He hurried them forward, his hands controlling her motion and her ability to breathe.

By the time he brought them to a stop, she was dizzy with lack of air and did not know where they were in the garden. He turned them a sharp right and pressed her forward. A stiff wall of leaves brushed her from foot to shoulder.

The maze!

His hand wasn’t as tight on her mouth, and she sucked in air, enough to clear her head.

Just as he had confidently moved through the tunnel beneath Kavin castle, he seemed familiar with the windings of the labyrinth. She suspected he was heading for the center. If that was the case, there was an exit she could take if she got the chance to get away from him. She could squeeze through the far wall of the interior courtyard into the emptied second half, and then she could run.

The moon was low in the sky, casting little light into the narrow lanes they traversed with quick steps. Another turn, and he slowed their pace.

“I’m so sorry, Kambry, but you need to see this.”

He pressed her forward, and she backstepped, frightened of what was beyond the entry he forced her through.

The courtyard with the fountain at the center stood before her, partially illuminated by the thin moonlight.

“Hmm. Not here yet. We’ll find a place to wait.” Her mouth felt bruised and dry, her throat tight.

He pushed them into the far corner, deep among shadows. Branches caught at the lace overlay of her dress and the jeweled net enfolding her hair. He stood so close she could feel his ribs rising with every breath, and she shied away from him as much as she could.

“Just a little longer,” he whispered into her ear.

A murmur from the entry they only just left made her stiffen. Someone was entering the maze’s courtyard.

A woman giggled.

Some moonlight spilled into the open area, leaving a long, curvy shadow extending out from the center fountain. She distinguished two figures, a man and woman. They tripped to the fountain, giggling when they almost went headfirst into a pile of dirt. Hidden by its shadow, the couple were a darker shade of gray amid the gloom it cast. They tumbled into the moonlight, hands roving over each other, and Kambry would have gasped if she’d had the freedom to breathe at ease.

The man wore a pale-green tunic over dark pants and darker knee-high boots. His hair hung to his collar. The glint of a gold circlet on his head made her dizzy with fear of what she was seeing. The woman let out a squeal and a nervous giggle.

Her captor’s hand tightened around her mouth and nose, and she struggled to breathe. She heard the deep murmur of the man and the rustle of skirts. A sigh of pleasure.

His grip squeezed tighter across her nose and mouth. She fought at the lack of oxygen, her hands pinned to her sides, fisted into her dress. Already starved for air, she felt the blackness wash over her.

The sensation of being carried brought her sharply awake, and she raised her head.

“I’m sorry, Miss do Brode.”

She cringed at the familiar voice. She was still under the control of the man in red.

His voice sounded sincerely apologetic. “He went much further than I expected. I had to get you out of there. I merely wanted to show you he wasn’t faithful, not have you witness his debauchery.”

He set her on her feet and stepped back. She looked around and even in the moonlight could see they were at the end of the stone causeway that led into Kavin Wood, the steep roadway she had traveled with Lessa in the yellow and black curricle more than a week past. She backed away from him, and he didn’t stop her. Behind her, the road narrowed and dipped into the woods. He stood between her and the causeway to Kavin Castle, whose windows, illuminated, glowed in the night. She must have been unconscious at least fifteen minutes for him to take her this far. She could hear only the breeze in the trees break the silence of Kavin Wood.

“I know that was unsettling, heartbreaking, but you had to see him for what he is. My sister….” He took a heaving breath.

“That wasn’t Russal.” It couldn’t have been him. Someone else dressed in similar clothes. The crown. Her breath faltered.

He shook his head at her. “The point is, I couldn’t let him fool you. I just couldn’t sit by without doing something.” He stepped to the edge of the stone road at the low buttress wall that ran its length and peered down. “There’s a pathway here. We can go to Kavinton and hide out there until things settle.” He reached out his hand to her.

Kambry looked past him at the steep stone causeway and the glow of the windows of the stone hall. She could see the light of torches glaring in spurts as individuals hurried on the outer battlements. Were they searching for her or Russal? Did

anyone even know she was missing? She stretched out her hand as if, had she reached far enough, she could touch her lost certainty that Russal had grown to care about her. The lights of Kavin Castle formed a halo around her hand, rays of light reaching out from it, like beams of hope.

“Come, Kambry. I’ve gotten you this far. I can take you to safety.”

A red glow tainted the rays, and she jerked her hand away. She shook her head. She wanted to go home. She wanted to talk to Russal or Lessa or Burty. But mostly, she wanted to go home.

“Did you know the room he moved you to housed his grandfather’s mistress?”

“What?” She stared at him. “It was his great-grandfather.” “He told you half the truth. Isn’t that what proficient liars

do? They know there should be some truth to what they say.” He looked at her with pity in his eyes.

Kambry looked down at her hand and shuddered. The ring glowed purple, and she shoved her hands behind her back. No!

“He told you what he wanted you to hear. She was his grandfather’s mistress until eight years before he died. He sent her away when he tired of her. Russal’s father split the chamber up. Then Russal had the room cleaned up and put you there. Surely you can see what he has planned for you.”

She backed away.

“Kambry, let me take you away from here. I can keep you safe from him.”

Whom could she trust?

“We haven’t much time.” Stepping forward slowly as if not to startle her, he reached his hand out.

She took another step back and glanced at the narrow path behind her.

Drew had said run.

She had to go home.

Dodging between trees, she raced away. Running footsteps pounded behind her, and a deep voice cursed.

She had to escape. She had to get away from Russal, from the man in red, from this horrible pain in her chest.

Whoever followed her crashed to the ground in a thud that knocked a groan from him. The sounds of a scuffle followed, and she ran faster.

A voice called out, “Kambry!”

There had to be a way she could hide. If Kavin Wood would let her. She ran, whispering the chant of Kavin Cut in faltering cries.

Deep tones seemed to whisper from the forest, “Kavin take her in.” She sang the chant between breaths.

I stand before the woods of Kavin I wait to see the Cut

If I am true, if I am strong Kavin will take me in

A shuddering of the ground beneath her feet spurred her

on.

She stands before the woods of Kavin She waits to see the Cut

You need the true, you need the strong Kavin, take her in.

She glanced hurriedly over her shoulder and raced on.

Standing before the woods of Kavin Waiting to see the Cut

See her true, see her strong Kavin, take her in.

A path streaked before her, and she raced down it, the soft

earth pressing light under her frantic feet. The rustle of leaves caressed her, and the trees stirred.

Her throat tightened with every step away from Kavin Castle, away from Russal. She gulped and cried in jerky breaths. Her hands held her skirts up as she fled. She wasn’t sure what or who she was fleeing. But she raced toward some place safe, any place that would smother the pain now suffusing her heart.

~~~~~~~

As if the woods retreated in an instant, she found herself in an open field and dropped to her knees, heaving air past her wracking cries.

Torches lit and voices rose. In moments, people surrounded her, and someone lifted from the ground. “Russal?” she said, half hoping and half pulling away from the first hands that held her.

“Kambry.” Arms clutched her against a broad chest. “Where have you been?” His hands cupped her chin, and in the torchlight, she could see Stahn’s worried face. She buried herself against her brother’s shoulder, and he carried her home.

Their kitchen table, the familiar scarred and sturdy surface, felt unreal beneath her fingertips. In one hand, she held a cup of steaming tea. She had yet to sip it.

Stahn sat beside her, his arm lying across the back of her seat.

Mom’s hand kept reaching out to touch her as if she wasn’t any more real than the table felt to Kambry. Mom wiped her eyes with her robe’s wide collar. Her hair was down, braided to the side in readiness for bed.

Kambry watched Dad pace back and forth behind Mom. His expression alternated similarly, first relief then tenderness then back again. His work-scarred hands rested on Mom’s shoulders each time he stopped to stare at Kambry. He never was one to sit when trouble or worry entered his life. The days she’d been gone had added lines around his mouth and forehead. Had they always been there, and she was just now noticing?

“Where have you been?” Mom asked. She’d already asked it several times, and Kambry still didn’t think she could answer.

“She needs rest,” Stahn said.

“Can’t she tell us anything?” She touched Kambry’s shoulder and ran her hand down her arm to squeeze her fingers about her cup. “Drink something, Kambry.”

Stahn lifted the cup for her, and she shook her head, pulling it away from him and sloshing the hot liquid on the table.

She raised the cup within inches of her face and closed her eyes. The steam rose from the liquid, the soothing chamomile aroma filling her lungs. The cup felt solid, and she squeezed until her fingers cramped.

Mom stood, taking her arm. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

Kambry shook her head and pulled from her light hold. Standing up, she gazed at each of them a moment, turned and strode to her room.

A chair scraped behind her. Mom muffled a cry, but none of them followed her.

In her evening-shrouded room, nothing looked changed. She set the cup on the dresser. The lamp on the stand at the door lit quickly under her trembling fingers. Her bed was just as she’d left it, tousled, her work clothes folded at the end. Her pillow lay crumpled where she’d thrown it against the headboard in her hurry to dress that long ago morning. Someone had opened her window, and the breeze billowed the woven curtains. Green, her favorite color. She laughed, a painful gagging sound, and wanted to tear them from the rod.

Three steps brought her to the bed, and she tore back the covers and crawled under them, stuffing the beautiful brown and gold dress in awkward folds beneath her.

Cupping her hands on the pillow, she focused her gaze on the ring encircling her thumb. She stared at it. Purple. It glowed purple as if nothing was amiss. What was truth anymore? She didn’t know.

She ran a finger over its smooth surface, and at first, gently tried to pull it off. It would not budge. Tugging harder, she wrenched at it. She’d always been able to turn it in place, a satin smoothness against her skin. But now it crouched down, like an animal refusing to budge. It felt no tighter, but she could not remove it.

“He lied,” she said, and she wasn’t sure if she was talking about Russal or the man who had taken her to the center of the maze. The center of the ache in her chest. Was that Russal with some woman? The green tunic, the circlet around his head. She brought her hand to her mouth, the ring’s warmth pressed to her lips.

She should have screamed. She should have fought.

She shouldn’t have left Kavin Wood.

Did Russal cast her out? Or had she asked to be cast out?

Kavin, take me in.

“He lied,” she whispered. The ring glowed green. She sat up. What does that mean?

“Russal betrayed me.” Green. “What does that mean?”

“Russal….” She closed her eyes, imagining his face when he had danced with her. The ring glowed purple. “Russal loves me,” she whispered. Purple. Vibrant, blazing purple.

Stillness. She refused to move a muscle. Her heart beat like a hammer.

“Russal would never betray me.” Purple. “The man in red lied.” Purple.

“It wasn’t Russal in the maze.” Purple.

“Russal said the dance was a promise.” Purple.

“The man in red said Russal was not capable of love.” Red.

Red. The man in red. Would the ring depict his lies in red? Her hand outstretched, the rays of light from Kavin Castle glowing around it. Red. It went red when he said something. Safety. He said he could take her to safety, and the rays turned red.

“The red man took me to Russal in the maze where he kissed a woman.” With each word the ring glowed more brightly red, so vibrant had not tears blurred her eyes, she would have squinted at it.

“Russal did not kiss that woman in the maze.” Purple. “Russal loves me.” Purple.

Sharp raps sounded on her door.

“Kambry.” Stahn’s strained voice carried through the stout wood.

She looked at the ring on her hand, inches from her face. “Kambry, please open the door.”

She threw the covers aside and shook her head at her shoed feet. I go barefooted to face a prince but wear my shoes to bed. She gulped a hysterical giggle.

“Kambry, please open the door.”

Her hand pressed the latch and swung the door aside. Stahn stood, panicked, his hands clenching the door trim.

“Who are you talking to?”

She couldn’t explain. Her gaze drifted down to her hands folded together at her waist. “No one.”

“I came to tell you Pickwick is in my room. I kept him with me while you were gone.” He ran his hands through his hair, leaving it mussed.

She hadn’t even noticed her canary was missing. It seemed ages since she ruffled his feathers and whistled to him. Had it only been two weeks? Less? More?

“Where did you go, Kambry? We searched night and day. We were resting in the meadow so we could start at dawn

again.” His voice cracked. “I should never have allowed you to come to the meadow.”

“What?”

“I’m supposed to protect you. I should have stopped them from chanting.”

What was he talking about? “You didn’t know what would happen.”

“But I’m supposed to protect you.”

Protect her from what? From making friends? Was he the reason she had been so lonely? “You kept people away from me.”

“I kept you safe with me and my friends.”

He reached for her, and she backed away, raising her hand between them.

“I had no friends. No one who cared about me.”

“I cared about you, care about you. It’s my job to keep you safe.”

“Safe. You protected me from living. From having my own friends. From being seen. I was no one to anyone.”

“No. I just made sure no one could hurt you. You had my friends.”

“I had no friends!” She closed her eyes, searching for a center that would give her solid ground to stand on. There was none. She opened her eyes and glared at him. “You’re the reason I was so alone.” She strode to the bed and back to the door. “How could you make me be so alone? I thought no one saw me. No one wanted me.”

His expression was one of shock. He blinked as if to confirm he was seeing her, hearing her. “I only wanted to keep you from being hurt. They were viewing you like the other girls in town they could pursue, break your heart. I couldn’t let that happen to you.”

“And what will you do now? Guard my door? Keep me inside here, protected!” I’m already brokenhearted. She

looked at the hall; a small lit oil lamp sat on the floor across from her door. “Were you guarding my door just now, listening?”

His chagrined look answered her question before words passed from his mouth.

She slammed the door shut. Fuming, she fisted her hands. “He kept everyone away.”

She sat on the bed in a daze. Minutes slid by like the breeze from her window. The curtains lifted and fell. The house creaked. She stared at the door, reliving the cold aloneness of her life before Kavin. Kambry do Brode, scribe of Paddlyrun. She’d been right about her introduction. That’s all she’d been. Scribe of Paddlyrun. Who was she to love a prince?

Who was she for a prince to love?

A soft knock broke the idea just beginning to bloom. It crumpled, and she sighed at the loss of the delicate chance Kavin Wood had offered and she had run from.

“Kambry, dear, it’s Mom and Dad.”

She rose from the bed, took a deep breath and opened the door.

They stood side by side, her father’s stout height dwarfing her mother’s delicate figure. They entered swiftly and shut the door.

“We’re as much to blame as Stahn, more to blame,” said Dad. “We encouraged him to watch over you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She shuffled away and stood at her window. The curtain brushed at her, and she held it aside and stared out at the night. Was Russal searching for her?

“That’s a beautiful dress you’re wearing,” Mom said. The words sounded forced, like there were several columns of statements she could make, and this one shoved itself to the front. “You look so lovely, like a princess.”

“If you ignore the disheveled bits here and there,” said Dad, always the one to note the details.

She ran her hands over the gold overskirt. “It’s had a rather busy evening.” But it had been beautiful. She’d been beautiful. She’d seen it in Russal’s eyes, and he hadn’t even been looking at the dress.

“Kambry,” said her father. “When you were little, you had so much determination, independence.”

“Every second phrase was, ‘Kambry do it, Momma,’” Mom said.

She heard her father’s step, the clomp of his work boots bringing him closer. She could see in her mind’s eye his hands rubbing on his thighs. The soft shush of his skin on the rough fabric confirmed the image. “When you worked with me in the shop, I thought, finally, I can give a gift to my daughter. My skill, my heart.” Dad’s voice broke. “But it wasn’t enough for you, yet the miniature pieces you made were so delicate and well-formed.”

Kambry turned from the window. He’d liked her work. “You never said they were good.”

“They were exquisite, Kambry.”

“Then you took up weaving. The little patterns, so exotic, that you designed….” Her mother’s lips rolled into her mouth as if she were stopping them from saying more. “It wasn’t enough for you.”

They weren’t speaking to her. It was as if they had told these memories to each other so many times that now they tumbled out of their mouths like treasured recollections they wanted to assure themselves were true.

“You wanted to be a scribe,” he said, with incredulous emphasis. “At fifteen, you wanted to be a scribe and asked me to talk to Master Muntrac. He tested you and agreed to take you for an apprentice. Your eye for detail, your intensity impressed him.” His hands hung at his sides, so unlike his usual busy activity. He seemed stunned, unable to do more than remember the past.

“After just three years, he named you his successor and would not fully retire until they trained you to the position. He would accept no one but you, and you thrived as a scribe.” He shook his head. “You have always amazed us. Perhaps that’s why we protected you, held you close, too close.”

“Where did you go, Kambry?” whispered Mom. “Where have you been?”

She thought, searched for the words to explain what the experience had been. “I’ve been with friends, and I need to go back.”

“Don’t talk of leaving,” Mom begged. “You’ve only just come home. Stay for a little while. Talk to Stahn, forgive him. Forgive us for holding you too tight.”

“My friends are at war, and they need me.” She ran her fingers down the window casement, the cool wood barely registering under her fingertips. “What little I can offer, they need from me.” She stared out at the black sky. The moon winked behind trees. “I have to go back and try to save them before it’s too late.”

“What could you do that could help them?”

“I can try!” She spun around. “I won’t cower in my room and let someone destroy their world. Sybil said there is something about me that changes things. I will help them. I am not just the scribe of Paddlyrun!”

“You have never been just a scribe,” Dad said. He touched Mom’s shoulder, and the two left, closing the door with a soft click.

She rested her head on the window frame. Kavin Wood had saved her from an enemy of her own creation. It wasn’t Stahn who kept her alone.

She’d been the one to dash away from the blacksmith’s son when he smiled and kept her from falling.

She was the one who wore a dress to catch everyone’s eye and then refused to look at or even acknowledge anyone who noticed.

She allowed Stahn to sit her with his friends on a little corner of the blanket to herself. And Tia. She’d always been friendly, and Kambry had viewed Tia as silly for all her efforts to pull Kambry out of herself. She closed her eyes.

She was so tired. Breathing was a meditation.

Kavin took her in, and Kavin saved her from her own exile. She’d let Stahn stand between her and everyone else. She was her own enemy, and Kavin Woods had disarmed her.

She was so tired, but she had to go back. The wicker trunk beneath the window coaxed her to sit, and she folded her arms on the sill and lay her cheek on her hands. She would close her eyes for a few minutes. A lassitude threaded through her limbs, and she sank into it. The satin dress whispering, she slid sideways and caught herself.

Laying her hand on the corner of the bed, she rose and shuffled forward, eyes half-closed until her legs pressed into the mattress side. She reached behind her and worked at the buttons at the waist of her dress. At last, the gown glided down her body to the floor. Stepping out of it and her shoes, she crawled beneath the covers and allowed herself to slide under the call of her weariness.