In the late afternoon, I heard boots click on the cobbles, and hid behind the barrel with my knife out. The gate opened quietly. “It’s me,” Percy said. “Where’d you go?”

I unfolded myself from the small space. “I’m over here. Just didn’t know who was coming.”

“Gotcha.” He crouched and opened his loaded knapsack. “So, what did you do all day?”

“Pretty much just zoned out. Slept a little. I just can’t believe that the princesses are gone.”

“It’s going to be strange, that’s for sure. If you want something to do, there’s a rubber ball over there, I think. And I brought a deck of cards. Do you know how to play solitaire?”

“I used to watch my grandma play, but I don’t really know how.”

“Okay. It’s something to do, at least.” He lifted a bundle out of his knapsack. “Bread,” he explained. “And cheese.” Out came another lumpy bundle. “Apples.”

“Thanks. By the way, have you been reassigned to a squadron, or what?”

“I haven’t received an assignment yet. I expect that they’ll get a new courier as soon as they can, and I’ll guard him.”

“I see. And have you thought of a plan to stop the Triumdemic from controlling the war? You said you’d think about it.”

“No, I haven’t really had time. You know, when your friend brutally whacks three princesses, you don’t really have time to think about taking down an entire black market organization.”

“For the last time, it wasn’t me.”

“I know, I’m just teasing you! I also brought some clean rags for washing up or whatever. If you ever decide to do that kind of thing. Or does a layer of dirt keep you warm?”

“Oh, hush. I'm perfectly clean.”

“Sure.”

“Well, thanks for the food and stuff. In exchange, I will tell you about the theory that I came up with while you were gone.”

“Don’t think about it too hard, you might strain your little brain muscles.”

“Ha ha. Anyway, what if the princesses aren’t really dead?”

“Callum, they paraded the coffins through the street. The entire country has gone into mourning in the middle of a war. Morale was low before this, and now the palace is planning a triple funeral. What makes you think that they would go to all that trouble just for it all to be fake?”

“I know, it sounds crazy, right? Just hear me out. I think that someone ratted on me. I must have talked about the Triumdemic too much, or to the wrong person. So the king had to get rid of me. But he also has to give a very good reason to whack me.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Interesting. There is a rumor that they’re not dead, that they’ve run off and joined the Triumdemic,” Percy said casually. A knife twisted in my heart.

“No way! No. Maybe they are alive, but there’s absolutely no way that they joined the Triumdemic, of all things! Good God, who knows what might happen to them! Why would they do that!?” I paused and considered. “I guess if they knew the truth they might be motivated to do something. Where did you hear that?”

“I guess it’s not quite a rumor,” Percy said, and stared at his boots like they held the secrets to the universe. “My friend… he’s a spy for the Triumdemic. He told me that they ran away from the palace and joined up. He said they seem like they’re all for the Triumdemic. And he gave me this ribbon as proof.” He handed me a royal purple ribbon, with the royal family’s crest and Flora’s monogram embossed in silver on it.

“What?!” I exploded. “Your friend is a spy for the Triumdemic!? The princesses are alive, but they want to help the black market? What are they doing? Why would Flora give away this ribbon? What is going on? Is this a trick?”

“Callum! Keep your voice down! You can’t let anyone hear you!”

“I don't care if they hear me! The princesses need to get out of there before they get killed! Lambs led to the slaughter! Who knows what the Triumdemic will do to them!”

“They’re not little girls, Callum. They can take care of themselves.”

“You don’t know that! They’ve lived in palaces their whole lives, surrounded by good people. They have zero street smarts!”

“My friend says the Triumdemic views them as an asset, and will treat them well. I don’t think you should worry so much. I have to return to the palace now, but I’ll be back as soon as possible, okay?”

“Okay. See you soon. Thanks for the stuff.”

An hour after Percy left, I put on the cloak that he gave me and went to find a messenger bird hub. The overcast clouds drizzled slightly, and gave me a plausible reason to keep my hood up. I selected and paid for a messenger pigeon. I dictated my message, then told it where to go and who to look for.

I only hope Chantelle gets it in time.

__________________________________________________________________

The pigeon didn’t return to me by the next morning. Did it find her? Could she reply? Or did someone intercept it? Did she even want to reply, or did she send it back to its hub?

I climbed to the roof of a building in order to get a birds eye view of the unfamiliar district. I’d packed my supplies in the backpack that Percy gave me. There was a decent amount of people walking around, probably on their way home after work. I watched as person after person exited a bakery a block away. How in the world could such a crowd fit in such a small building?

After a little while, no more people left the building. But then a whole line of people started going in. There must be something going on that I don’t know about. I decided to get my boots on the ground.

Making sure my cloak covered my uniform, I joined the queue and followed the men into the bakery. The baker just stood inside, holding the counter open. I listened as he said something to each of the people in line, and they all answered in the affirmative. When it was my turn, he asked, “You here for the plum pies?”

What? “Yes.”

“Come on through.”

I followed the men past the counter and into the kitchen, where a trapdoor lay open. We walked down narrow stairs into a cellar. What is this place?