A Captive of Wing and Feather A Retelling of Swan Lake - Melanie Cellier Page 0,58

was. It’s a pity because it would be nice to think she had some family worth finding.”

“Dominic has been tearing Palinar apart looking for her,” Gabe said. “Whatever his faults back then, he’s changed.”

“Changed, eh?” Cora raised an eyebrow. “It’s not the most common thing, but I’ve seen it happen.”

“To tell the truth,” Gabe said softly, “I was hoping to find her first in case she didn’t want to be found by him. But now that I’m here—and she doesn’t want him to know—I just keep hoping she’ll decide to give him a chance.”

“And perhaps she still will,” Cora said.

Footsteps down the hallway made me jerk away from the hinges, turning as Audrey came into view.

“Lady!” she cried, in her usual enthusiastic way. Linking her arm into mine, she dragged me into the kitchen. “There you are at last, Gabe! We need to talk.”

“You’ve found a way for us to get inside the Keep?” Gabe asked.

She nodded excitedly. None of them seemed to notice I was doing my best not to meet anyone’s gaze.

“Wren went round to visit Ash at the bakery and said she’d like to go and see his sample cakes before he sets off.” Audrey rolled her eyes. “A nonsensical thing to want to do, but he’s more than happy to accommodate any visit from Wren. Once he’s shown her the cakes in the wagon, she’s going to distract him, and we’re going to sneak in.” She beamed around at us all. “Easy.”

We weren’t quite as enthusiastic about the plan as she was, and it took some time before we could agree on the details. Cora wandered away not long into the conversation. She knew the whole kingdom might hang in the balance of our finding a way to defeat Leander, but she informed us tartly that she had better things to do than bear witness to our hare-brained scheming. Gabe looked slightly bemused, but Audrey and I knew it was just her way of expressing her worry for us.

One thing Gabe and I agreed on was that we would be the only two hiding in the wagon. Not only was it too small for three, but it didn’t seem like a good idea for Audrey to return to the Keep in such a manner.

I had expected her to fight us on that point vociferously, but she agreed with only a little coaxing. I didn’t like what that implied about the time she had already spent there, but nothing in her manner was pronounced enough for me to question her on it. Whatever trauma she had experienced, she was hiding it well.

Despite her planned absence from the excursion, she seemed determined for us to succeed, and she would no doubt have continued the conversation all day if unchecked. She even suggested that we reconvene at my lake, but I vetoed that. I was physically and emotionally wrung out, and the last thing I needed was Gabe invading my space again.

Eventually we had the plans straightened out. Audrey was downright enthusiastic, fully prepared for her role helping conceal us in the wagon. I think she was relieved there was still some way she could help.

My refusal to have them accompany me home to my lake didn’t deter Gabe. He was waiting for me when I left the haven late that afternoon. For a brief moment I considered trying to send him away via a written message, but he looked determined, and I decided I didn’t have the energy for it.

We fell into step beside each other, crossing into the trees without any attempt on Gabe’s part to make conversation. Surrounded by the trees, and the strange tricks of light produced by the setting sun, I admitted to myself that exhaustion had nothing to do with it.

In just the few short days since his arrival, I had grown used to having him with me. The trees had never felt safe—and they felt less so now. My swans couldn’t keep me company as I walked, and I felt the prickling sensation of eyes on me, even when there was none. But even my unease didn’t fully explain it.

Before Gabe’s arrival I had felt alone even when I was not. It had made the physical isolation easier to bear. But I didn’t feel that way anymore. We shared a goal and a purpose, and he understood me—the background and forces that shaped me—in a way no one else here could. He knew my family and what they had been like, and