And I turned my back on the people who were turning their backs on me. Alone, I made my way through the courtyard toward the stables. Whispering servants ducked away from me while watchful eyes peered from windows. A Whirligig, a pumpkin-sized mechanical with fluttering wings, rose from the mechanical shop, carrying gossip in its spinning gears. The news had begun to spread, soft and slow like kindling catching. I needed to enlist my uncle to our cause, before the city turned ablaze with words of a king’s treason.
Uncle could help me douse this fire.
Or he could fan the flames.
I raced into the stables, after my mount. Sir Grigfen guffawed from a stall near mine. His foot was caught in the stirrup, and he was spilling coins and laughter as a servant tried to pull his boot from the metal.
The tension in my neck loosened for a second. Grig’s grinning eyes met mine. “Ryo! Sorry I’m late, pal. I had the Undergod’s own luck at the Fisherman’s Haul. I got twenty coppers before some chap decided I was cheating and tried to…” He trailed off as he took in my expression. “Wait. What’s gone wrong?”
I could give him no answer. “Nothing. I need to see my uncle.”
“I’ll go with you. I’ve just got to figure out how to get back on this horse. Were they always this tall?” The servants pushed him back up onto his saddle.
I didn’t answer him. I checked that the cleric’s leather bag tucked at my side still held the seer water and the contract, then I climbed astride my horse and kicked my heels.
“What’s the rush, Ryo?” Grigfen asked as he struggled to keep pace. He’d always hated riding with me; he said I either needed to push my horse to a full gallop, or walk. Still, he smiled—I could not recall if I’d ever seen his face not in the midst of a toothy grin. His shaggy blond curls hung over his eyes, and his vest was unbuttoned, stains on his cravat. “You look like you’ve got a prank on countdown. Should I fetch the feathers?”
“Har, har,” I muttered over the sound of our horses running at full gallop. “You don’t need to follow me.”
He held the reins tight as we rode down the cobbled streets toward the Abbey. He squinted at me, his face shadowed in the torchlight. “The fact you keep saying that makes me think I need to. You look all squirrelly so I know you’re either heading toward trouble, or you’re heading toward a lot of trouble. Either way I’m not going to miss it.”
He grinned and I almost smiled back. I’d like the company … no, I’d love the company, and I’d love to not be the only one who knew this secret; I also knew that word was going to spread, and once news broke … Mine was not the only father who had left.
“You need to be with your family when the news breaks.”
News was already spreading. Peasants stood at the edges of the road, calling out to us, but I did my best to ignore them. They’d find out soon enough.
We reached the Abbey gates, and I dismounted. The Abbey chapel was walled with bones, fused together with iron smelted from swords donated with the bodies of soldiers. A circle of painted glass reflected the moons-light in the grand chapel, but I wouldn’t find my uncle in the chapel. I ran past the glowing building and around the back to the catacomb tunnels where the high priests and my uncle kept their offices. Grigfen followed close behind. As a child, we used to play in the hallowed hallways of the catacombs. Now I rushed forward through the catacomb doors, a sealed cup in one hand, and the bound parchment with my father’s signature in the other, trying not to vomit on the holy bone walls.
My uncle would help me carry the load of this. Right now, we were the only ones leading this kingdom, and if we wanted to restore the rightful heir to the throne and protect our kingdom from the Savak, then my uncle and I needed to be united.
I turned the candlelit corner to a maze of skull-topped hallways. How could I find my uncle in this catacomb? I usually preferred to wait in the main chambers, or in the chapel, let Uncle come to me when he could. But my uncle’s office was back here somewhere.