under control. When he spoke his voice was quiet, resigned.
“I was always afraid this day would come. When we could not find the boy…”
“Is there truly danger?” she asked.
The pause before he answered was long, and told the story better than his words. “I find it hard to believe one man can elude all the forces I have at my disposal to remove him. But so far my beliefs have been sorely challenged.”
Eneika squeezed his shoulders once and then let him go, fussing mindlessly at his desk to keep her hands busy. “I’ve been thinking it would be good to send the girls to visit my family in Marabour. It might help trade relations. A sign of good faith.”
“Celia must stay. It would look bad if she didn’t. But Evelyn and Clara should go. It would be good for them to see a bit of the world. And you must go with them.”
“Celia stays and I go?” Eneika demanded. “I think not!”
He spun on her, gripping her shoulders fiercely enough to bruise, their noses almost touching. “You will go,” he snarled.
“I love you too,” she whispered, and he released her, closing his eyes.
“Let’s not make hasty decisions,” he finally said. “Tensions are wild. Bad plans come from bad news, as they say.”
Eneika nodded, and she went to the mirror to fix her dress. King Octarion sat and penned a quick response to the disappointing Lord Mendaci, and then another, to someone he hoped might be a better envoy than the grasping old nobleman.
“Which nobles will be for you, do you think?” Eneika asked. “Should it come to…”
King Octarion snorted. “The nobles. Not worth the salt they lick from my boots. It was their greed that saw my brother slain, and now we bleed the people and they still want more. They will only suffer under this upstart ‘People’s King,’ and they have no love of his cause. But if they believe the tide is going his way, not a one will risk their land to stand with me. Mark my word, their solemn oaths will mean nothing; I’ll have no soldiers from a one of them. It will be my soldiers against his.”
“You have more soldiers than he does,” Eneika scoffed. “He’s no real threat.”
“Yes. I’m sure you’re right,” Peter agreed, but the words were empty. That was this rebel’s greatest threat—his numbers were impossible to know. As he marched toward the city, how many would follow? The people buckled under the new laws. Their stomachs grumbled and they remembered freedoms gone these twenty years. This firebrand was a spark on dry kindling—it could set the world ablaze.
It took seven days of hard traveling for the small company to reach the safe house. By the time they arrived alliances had been founded, friendships made, and Taya was looking sadly toward the moment when they would leave her behind. She had made Jeremy begin to teach her the basics of swordplay, and found to her chagrin that she was not much good at it. She didn’t have the upper body strength required to hold the sword steady while smashing it against her opponent’s, and she was too wont to force an offensive when she felt threatened. Every time they sparred, it ended with her lying on the ground and his sword at her neck. And while she had to admit she enjoyed the way he traced his hands down her arms to adjust her grip, or lined his body against hers to fix her posture, she was somewhat less fond of how he kicked her feet out from under her when she got distracted by his sparkling eyes. She knew if they brought her along she would end up dead, or end up killing someone else as they rushed to her aide. She was resigned to staying behind, though it galled her immensely to know how useless she was. Oblivion and Tears! This journey has been horrible and agonizing, trying and testing…but I have never felt more alive.
They reached the safe house a finger-span past noon, and Taya was surprised by the sight that greeted them. The cottage was idyllic. It nestled in a clearing in the woods, well-hidden from prying eyes, with a small stream running past and a quaint little bridge spanning the water. There was a vegetable patch under the window, and the small stable behind the house looked well-cared for. The cottage itself was a two-room building with a thatched roof, and had a window set into