The walls of the inn’s large common room were festooned with hunting trophies—dusty heads of proud bucks holding glass-eyed court over the drinking rabble. Vetch’s inkling about the inn as a source for gossip had proved true and then some. By the time night had fallen, the establishment was packed with so many patrons of all trades and persuasions that not a bench or table went unoccupied. Some folk even stood leaning against the walls, and more crowded the veranda outside, eating and carousing. Boisterous chatter and the press of people warmed the common room as much as the fire in the hearth. The talk they overheard was of a kind one would expect to hear in a busy inn—discussions about planting and harvesting, whose neighbors were having marital troubles, complaints about taxes and land allocations—little they could use to their advantage.
Lily used her fork to push a last piece of potato around her plate in consternation. They had ordered dinner and ales, but even a full belly and the pleasant buzz from the ale were not enough to dispel her anxiety.
“I still don’t like you going into that fortress alone.” She spoke above the clamor of the room, revisiting the same concern she had first voiced to Vetch upon hearing his wild plan.
Across the table from her, he leaned back in his chair. “Nor I. But it’s the only way to gain access to the place without raising any alarm.” His face was flushed and he had broken out in a sweat again. His newly trimmed auburn curls were plastered to his forehead. He hadn’t even touched his ale. She knew he felt unwell, despite how he tried to disguise it. She feared it was his wounds, but he avoided the topic in favor of his single-minded focus on their goal.
It was that he was in his element, she decided, making plans and decisions, as he always had when called upon by the other garrison soldiers. She trusted his instincts in this, but at the same time, what he had proposed filled her with trepidation.
“Look around at all the people here, Lily” he offered, leaning forward with his elbow on the table. “Undoubtedly, there are a few of the common workers and serving folk from the castle in this crowd. It will be simple: tomorrow, we go and watch the castle again. When evening falls, some of the people who work there will leave for the night to go home, or to the taverns. We follow them and watch them, choose one who looks like they need the coin—perhaps they all do,” he added as an aside, shrugging. “Anyway, we sit near them in a tavern and listen. That’s all. It may take a few nights, but we’ll find someone who has no love for their mistress and would be willing to lead me past the guards and inside to find Marigold, for the right price. The sellswords might be paid well enough to refuse a bribe, but a maidservant or a steward? We can offer them enough coin they could leave that station forever. What would they care if they helped me bring Marigold out to safety in the process?”
Lily had been staring down at the table while listening, anxiously running her thumb up and down the side of her empty tankard. Even after the benefit of a couple ales, the plan still gave her cause for concern.
“What of everything else?” she asked. “How will you find her? And how will you lead her back out? Surely, they’ll know no one has permission to take their captive out. They would be told that. No matter what explanation your bribed helper concocts.”
“They won’t know one way of the other.” When Lily fixed him with a dubious eye, he chuckled. “Trust me. The last people to ever be told anything about anything are the ones pulling gate guarding duty. And besides, that’s why you will remain outside. In case they do challenge us.”
Lily raised her eyes. His expression had changed from one of levity to one of measured confidence. “With Fae and Revenge,” she prompted.
Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
“Yes. Be on the road with them, and with all our things packed up. If things go wrong on the bridge, and the guards try to stop me and Marigold, cast a Barrier that halts them but allows she and I through. Then, the three of us will ride out of this town as fast as we can before the Barrier fades.”
That aspect of the plan was the one Lily at least felt some confidence in. A Barrier-Caster could do much to stop people following or challenging them. Would that she could cast Barriers freely, she could walk directly into that castle herself and no one could stop her. But she couldn’t. She would fall prey to Caster’s Slumber long before she could ever retreat with Marigold. And that also ignored the fact that Lady Iris resided there, who was a vastly more powerful Barrier-Caster than Lily, and who would sense Lily’s Castings in a moment and dispel them with ease.
But, if she needed only to cast one Barrier, and only once Vetch had already brought Marigold outside, in order to give them time to escape ... that was possible. More than possible. She knew she could pull it off and that it would work. If it provided them even a small head start, Fae and Revenge could do the rest. Their mounts could get them far away. Somewhere they could hide, before Lily fell into Slumber.
That Vetch’s plan was workable made things no less terrifying. There were still so very many things that could go wrong. What if it resulted in Marigold being harmed? Or Vetch? ...
She knew she had been silent too long when he reached across the table to lay his hand on hers. He didn’t say anything, only met her eyes. She nodded.
“Ladies and fellows! Turn your eyes here, friends! Quiet down and listen!”
The shout from the corner by the hearth drew the attention of all in the common room to a skinny young lady standing on a tabletop, who was dressed in hose and shirt of uniform black. When the noise quieted, and she had all eyes on her, she swept a formal bow before raising her hands.
“Such a crowd this night, such a crowd! And such a gathering deserves a show worthy of it, and worthy of its coin! On this splendid evening, we present to you, my friends, a very special play in our repertoire!” She clapped her hands and gestured at something on the floor covered by a dark cloth. At her, gesture, a stooped man, likewise dressed all in black, pulled the cloth away to reveal a puppet stage, painted beautifully in reds and golds. The young lady continued, “Settle yourselves and witness this tale of our esteemed Lady Iris and how years ago she came to rule Hold Draffor, at a great sacrifice to herself, but for the good of all of us! So ...” she wagged her finger at her audience, “drink up and have your coins ready, friends, and enjoy the show.” With that, she hopped deftly off the table and disappeared behind the little stage, along with the stooped man.
When the first puppet made its way onto the stage, Lily clenched her teeth and stared. The little figure glided to center stage and looked out at its audience. It was a young woman with long, raven-black hair, dressed in a flowing purple gown of a color so like her real-life counterpart had worn when she and her sellswords had broken into Lily and Marigold’s house the morning of the attack on Moonfane Forge. The gathering cheered as the little puppet nodded her head in regal acknowledgement. It then swept its little puppet arm up, and by a trick of a scrap of golden fabric held on a thin wire, appeared to cast a little Barrier in the air.
If there had been any doubt remaining in Lily’s mind about just who The Lady was, this dispelled it. There was their attacker. There was the true commander of the army that had fallen upon her town. There was the mage who had nearly killed her and stolen her beloved teacher away. Lady Iris of Black Crux.
Lily sat transfixed. Another puppet made its way onto the stage, clapping its little hands. In a comically exaggerated old woman’s voice, it proclaimed, “Perfect, my apprentice! That was perfect. You truly are one of the most talented students of magic in all the land!”
The puppets continued speaking to one another, but the words became an unintelligible hum to Lily’s ears. She stared at the second puppet in its white robe, with black hair streaked with gray, face a rich brown, and little painted silver eyes. But ... was not this play meant to portray events from years ago? How could this be?
Lily gaped at the little puppet in disbelief. It was her teacher. Marigold. Praising their enemy.