Creel

Her first thought was how much her head hurt. It felt like the bell tower in Oncore had exploded inside her temples, banging and tolling in pulsing rhythm. Her skull ached. Maybe it wasn’t a bell. It felt more like a blacksmith pounding away up there.

Creel groaned and shifted, feeling something dig into her back.

When she dared to slit her eyes open, the shaft of sunlight seemed to stab through her eyes and into her skull. She groaned again and shut her eyes.

Where was she?

She forced herself to look again, and she forgot the aching of her head as she spotted the leaves all around her.

What?...

Creel pushed herself up to a sitting position, squinting against the searing light. It all came rushing back to her as she saw the waning sunshine that filtered through the leaves. Jasa, the carriage… and Rain!

Creel slammed her fist against the ground and gritted her teeth.

The girl who looked exactly like her, that low-down…

Creel growled.

The last thing she remembered before waking up was Rain turning to her, knife in hand, and pity in her eyes. Pity, but also loyalty, and definitely not to the royals. Loyalty to the Lowlanders.

Creel scrambled to her feet, swaying, fighting the pain in her skull.

I never should have-!

Creel clenched her fists. What a fool she’d been to think that maybe, just because they looked alike, that Rain would somehow… what?

Turn to the royal’s side? Creel almost spit in disgust. Yep. She’d definitely been a fool.

She bent to retrieve her long knives from the bushes, sliding them into her sheath angrily.

It was over.

She had failed.

Creel rubbed a hand down her face and tried to take a deep breath. Her head was killing her, she’d let the Lowlander get away, she’d let the Lowlander knock her out, and now Lord Forden would never trust her to go on a mission again. In fact, he’d probably toss her in the dungeon. Or maybe execute her.

Things couldn’t possibly get much worse.

Creel brushed her clothes off and looked up at the overhang. That wretched, cursed overhang.

I never should have come.

And for some reason, she found herself questioning all she stood for.

Maybe I am on the wrong side. Maybe Lord Forden is a traitor. I should just run to the Lowlanders and join them.

But that was silly. They’d never welcome her, especially not after Creel had attacked one of her own.

Why was she having these thoughts?

Vensgone Lowlander.

There was nothing for it. She’d have to walk back and apologize to Lord Forden. At least she’d have said her piece before she went in the dungeons.

She stepped onto the road and started walking. She’d been unconscious for at least an hour, probably more.

She looked up at a rumble of thunder.

Oh great. It’s going to rain.

Things could not possibly get worse now.

●●●

Crane

Crane made it to the clearing in which her little house was nestled just as the first rumble of thunder shattered the sky. The wind picked up, carrying the sharp scent of rain, and Crane high-tailed it to the house.

Rysind launched off of her shoulder to join the other dragons scrambling for the trees. Tiny sentry dragons trilled out her return.

The first fresh drops of rain began to fall lightly as Crane limped up the steps to the porch. Her leg, mostly forgotten in the thrill of the documents, began to throb with a stabbing pulse of pain.

Crane opened the door to the familiar sight of the kitchen, the long wooden table and the shelves on either side of the fireplace lined with jars upon jars of herbs, tinctures, and baking supplies. She shivered as the rain began to come down harder, bringing a gust of damp wind into the house.

The fire, which was blazing cheerily, flickered. Crane shut the door and held back a groan as her leg spiked with fiery sparks.

“Cade?” she called, hoping her voice didn’t sound strained. It was time for answers now, and she was on the edge of an eruption. Crane prayed that Cadrin was cooperative for his own sake.

Cadrin peered out from the sleeping room. “You’re back! That was quick. I was expecting…” he trailed off as he came into the room, probably sensing Crane’s boiling insides.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Crane blew out, trying not to erupt at him. She couldn’t stop herself from slamming the papers on the table.

“What’s wrong?” Cadrin asked, sounding nervous.

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong.” Crane’s voice trembled with the effort of keeping it even.

Cadrin’s gaze trailed to her bloodstained pant leg, and his eyes widened. “Are you okay? You’re hurt.”

“Yeah, by you!” Crane snapped. “You didn’t think it was important enough to tell me that Jasa is on our side?!” Her voice rose at the last words.

“Is that it?” Cadrin sat down. “Look, Crane-“

“Cadrin, I’ve had enough of your ‘Look, Crane.’ I want answers.”

Cadrin sighed and slid down in his seat. “We decided it was best to let you figure it out. Only Besan, I – and now you- know about Jasa.”

Crane shook her head. “Okay, fine. Make excuses for that. But what about the heirs? Why didn’t you tell me? And what about...” she gestured helplessly in the direction of Jasa’s letter. “What about that?”

Cadrin turned noticeably red. “Oh, did you, um...” he cleared his throat. “Did you read it?”

Crane gave him The Look. “Obviously.”

Great. It’s not just Jasa, it’s him, too!

“Crane…”

“Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t have. But I was mad. In fact, I still am. So tell me, what did she mean by ‘I think it’s time you told Crane?’ And,” Crane burst out as Cadrin opened his mouth to speak, “tell me why the bodyguard – Creel – looks exactly like me!”

“Crane…” Cadrin closed his eyes. “I was hoping it wouldn’t be yet.”

“What wouldn’t be yet?!” Crane forced herself to calm down. “And by the way, we have a traitor. Someone leaked intel on us. They knew we were coming and sent the bodyguard to stop me.”

Cadrin groaned and slumped farther in his seat. He looked exhausted, and Crane almost took pity on him. Almost.

Impatience seized her. “Well, Cadrin? I am getting answers this time.”

Cadrin let out a long, weary breath. “Okay, but not now.”

“Cadrin!”

“I’ve got to get these documents arranged.”

“Well, then, I’ll help you since I’ve already read them, and it’ll go quicker.” Crane sat next to Cadrin and pulled the documents to her. “So, Merwyn-“

Cadrin snatched them from her. “Let me read them first.” His eyes moved quickly back and forth as he read. A minute later he set them down. “So I was right. Merwyn was married.”

“How did you know?”

Cadrin shrugged. “There was always something that seemed off in the histories. Little hints and allusions that I could see, even though the royals tried to hide the truth.”

“What do you think of the riddle?” Crane stared down at the ink that seemed to hold answers in its brilliant black strokes.

Cadrin sighed. “It’s impossible.”

“Seriously, Cadrin, what did she mean? I should know what?”

“You should know not to read other people’s letters,” he quipped. “I’ll tell you tonight.”

And that was the end of it.

●●●

The day seemed to drag by at the pace of molasses dripping down a pan. That is to say, very slow. Crane studied the riddle almost incessantly as Cadrin worked to gather all the facts surrounding Merwyn’s heirs. Facts that had long been hidden by the royals.

Hours later, the clues to the riddle were no more evident than they had been hours earlier. The sky was growing dark, and Crane felt her stomach growl in hunger.

She shoved aside the riddle and looked over at Cadrin. He was studying the document, twirling a charcoal pen in his fingers.

“Cade?”

He startled and looked up.

“It’s getting dark out, and I’m hungry. I think we should set these aside for now.”

Cadrin sighed and plucked the paper down with the pen on top. “You’re right. Does this have anything to do with me telling you the news that’s going to disrupt your life?”

“It’s going to disrupt my life?!” Crane shrieked. “You never told me that!”

Cadrin sighed. “What’d you think it was going to be?”

Crane shrugged.

She made rolls stuffed with lettuce and meat but could barely eat hers despite her earlier comment of being hungry.

Cadrin looked over at her. “Do you really want to know that bad?” he asked. Crane didn’t like the sound of his voice, but she nodded.

“Please Cade, I’ve been waiting all day.”

“About five hours, Crane. That’s not all day.”

“Well it felt like five years!” Crane scowled. “Please, just tell me.”

Cadrin sighed and closed his eyes briefly, as if he had a headache. He seemed to struggle to gather words. At last he looked over at Crane, and she was greatly alarmed to see tears glinting in his eyes.

“The bodyguard… Creel… she’s our sister.”

●●●

Creel

Creel finally made it home, drenched and very, very irritable. She entered the palace, ready to apologize and then be escorted to her cell in the dungeon.

To her surprise, Lord Forden came running out smiling.

He’s really happy to get rid of me.

“I knew I could count on you!” he exclaimed. “Well done, Creel.”

Creel blinked. I’m hearing things.

“Jasa told me all about how you fought off the assassin so she could escape.”

What?

Creel followed Lord Forden to the great hall in a daze, hearing compliments and exclamations from all around. Why were they treating her like a hero?

Because they think I am.

Why would Jasa tell them she had fought off the attacker?

Sheena came towards her, beaming. “Oh Creel, Jasa told me everything,” she gushed. “You fought the attacker so Jasa could escape and walked all the way back. It was so brave, so- so daring! I’m forever in your debt. You saved my best friend.”

Creel smiled tentatively. “Umm… you’re welcome.”

People shook her hands from all directions, servants and royals alike. Why were there so many royals here anyways? Probably to greet Ambassador Jasa.

Where was Ambassador Jasa?

Creel scanned the crowd and saw her in the corner. Jasa raised her eyes and locked gazes with Creel. Creel made a helpless gesture in confusion. Jasa just smiled and inclined her head ever so slightly.

What in the Tri-Kingdoms is going on?

Creel felt detached, as if they were all praising someone else as she looked on.

She was led to her room by a servant, with the promise of food and a bath. The door shut behind her as she stood in the middle of her room with her head whirling.

When the water for bathing was brought up, Creel washed in a haze. She couldn’t bring herself to even touch the food on the tray. Her mind couldn’t form words.

She’d never felt so confused -or so defeated- in her life. She should’ve felt triumphant that she hadn’t ended up in the dungeon, left to rot. But all she felt was hollow.

And speaking of what she was feeling…

Creel felt so exhausted that she tugged on her nightdress, and quite literally fell into her bed. The silken sheets and lavender-filled pillows had never felt so wonderful. But they did nothing to ease Creel’s discomfort about the whole affair.

How-why-?

Creel felt utterly spent. And all this praise and congratulations from the royals- what had Jasa done?

I don’t deserve any of this. I failed. I’m a disgrace to the royals.

Sure, Lord Forden had said to make sure nothing happened to Jasa, but Creel had blindly trusted a vensgone Lowlander and was now paying for it with a raging headache.

Jasa… she’s lying about me, for some reason.

It didn’t settle right. Why would she tell the royals that Creel had saved her? And why hadn’t the Lowlander done anything to Jasa?

The Lowlander.

The girl who looked exactly like her.

What was going on with that?

Creel shook her head and burrowed deeper into her blankets. Her head was screaming at her in sharp, pounding throbs.

She needed to sleep. She needed to talk to Jasa. She needed to clear up all this nonsense about her saving Jasa, whether it landed her in jail or not. She needed…

She needed…

Creel’s eyes opened wide as she realized what she needed. She needed to find the Lowlander informer.

She needed to find the home of Rain Nightcrest.