The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,41

all I hear before I’m yanked backward to the dirty floor of the dining hall.

Jander is standing there, looking concerned. “I’m okay,” I say. “Really, I’m okay.” He mimics throwing up. “No, no,” I say. “I’m just tired. I was daydreaming.” He doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it go.

Follow your path, Omin said. Does that mean I am on the right one? Is this where I’m meant to be? It was the same message I received from my mother—the one that sent me here.

It takes all morning and many fresh buckets of water pumped from the kitchen well outside, but we finish the room without incident. I can’t stop thinking about what I saw. Who I saw.

But I can think more about it later. I need to find Caledon.

When we’re done, I stand back and admire our work. It’s not quite as stunning as it was in the vision, and we couldn’t get to every nook and cranny with all the tables in the way, but compared to how it looked at breakfast, it’s a dramatic transformation.

* * *

JANDER AND I ARE sent to the kitchen to assist the cook. A guard pops his head in while we’re working. “Renold? I was wondering if it’d be possible for me to start my rounds a little earlier tonight. I was hoping to join the card game in a few . . .”

The cook frowns.

“I can take the food to the prisoners,” I say. “Then we don’t have to rush to have the food ready, and he can go to the card game.”

Maybe I might even be able to find Caledon.

The cook chews the offer over for a second or two. “Well, I suppose I can’t see why not,” he says. He tucks the errant hairs back under his cap.

The guard claps his large, rough hand against the doorway. “Excellent,” he says, beaming. “The route is easy. I have the east wing and the turret. Takes no time at all. None at all.”

Not long after, I’m pushing a tall, shelved cart piled with trays through the damp halls. It’s a far walk from the kitchens, so I was worried about the food getting cold, but I’ve learned that the prison staff gets the freshest food and the prisoners get week-old pea soup that’s been simmering for days on end and yesterday’s leftover biscuits. I feel guilty giving it to anyone.

I’ve also learned that it’s nearly impossible to see who is in each cell. Trying to get a good look inside not only makes me appear suspicious, it slows me down way too much. I’m supposed to deliver food to a row of cells, return to the kitchen to refill the cart, then deliver to another row, and so on. If I gape at every single prisoner, it will take me all night. I’m only to slide a tray under the door and keep moving.

Still, I do what I can to catch a glimpse. Most prisoners are immediately ruled out—too old, too big, too bald, and in one particularly remarkable case, far too hairy. But a couple of them look like they could possibly be Caledon, around the right age or size. I’ll have to come back later somehow to check them again. Maybe I can do the morning deliveries too. I’ll have to find a way to fill in for the other side of the castle, but I’d locate Caledon within the next few days if I do that.

Then I have a terrible thought: I haven’t seen the Montrician spy since we arrived. For all I know, Caledon has already been killed.

Once I finish the ground floor, I return to the kitchen to refill the cart. Mister Renold seems surprised to see me. “Back so soon, huh? Sure you got ’em all?” he says. He stops chopping potatoes to bend down and take a look at the bottom shelf of the cart.

I shrug. I thought I was moving too slow—I guess I didn’t have to hurry after all. Good to know I can take my time and get a better look inside the cells. Makes me wonder what usually takes the guard so long to finish his rounds.