Kyra’s vision came back to her. There was the real Fred carrying one of her staffs, the tip glowing green with her poison. So her Sight hadn’t lied to her about that.
She could only hope that her vision of the false Ariana and the dying Kingdom of Mohr never came true.
WEAPONS STRAPPED TO THEIR sides and backs, tucked into sleeves and boot tops and leg holsters and anywhere else they could find, they set out toward the ducal palace. Kyra was back in her usual black clothing, her hair tied up tight, securely held in place with a wooden hair stick.
She followed behind Fred and Ariana, trying not to pay attention to the easy way the pair chatted and joked together. He was good for Ari, she reminded herself.
“Kyra?” Ariana said, over her shoulder. “Will you tell this pinhead how I’m the most knowledgeable person in the entire kingdom—and possibly the world—on the subject of hunting dogs, and if I say terriers are more reliable than hounds, I know exactly what I’m talking about?”
“She’s the most knowledgeable person I know—at least on the subject of hunting dogs.”
“See, I told you.” Ariana smiled smugly.
“In fact, I wouldn’t get her started, because she will go on and on for days.”
“Kitty!”
“What she might NOT have mentioned is that she doesn’t actually hunt with them. She has them flush out birds so she can watch them fly.”
Ariana shot Kyra a dirty look before turning back to Fred. “Only the head groom knows, because I’m required to bring him with me. If you tell anyone, I swear you won’t live to hear the laughing.”
“Doesn’t anyone notice that you don’t come home with anything when you go hunting?”
“They just think I’m a terrible shot.”
Fred laughed. Kyra couldn’t see his face, but she knew that laugh, knew the smile that came along with it.
The small wooded path they were on broke out onto the edge of a large orchard abloom with apple blossoms before dipping back into the woods on the other side. Normally, Kyra would worry about being so out in the open, but she knew this area, and knew that the farmer would be working on his spring asparagus and pea crops on the other side of his land. Also, he was half deaf. She had been one of his customers when she’d lived in Wexford, making the hike out to buy his fruits and vegetables directly from him, and they’d mostly communicated by shouting at one another.
She pictured him standing in the sunshine in his work clothes, a hat pulled low on his head—the perfect silhouette of a hardworking farmer.
Kyra was struck with an idea.
“Hey, Fred,” she said, coming alongside the two royals. A gust of wind blew stray apple blossom petals around them. “How many changes of clothes do you have?”
“That’s an awfully personal question.”
“And yet, I still need to know the answer. If you aren’t going to give it to me, I’ll have to take your bag by force and rifle through it myself.”
He held up his hands, fending her off. “I have some extra clothes.”
“You’re quick to give in,” Ariana said. “You aren’t afraid of our Kitty, are you?”
Kyra ignored her. “Perfect. We’ll need two sets.”
“I get it,” Ariana said, picking up on Kyra’s thinking as quickly as she always did. “You think we should dress as men, right?”
Kyra nodded. “I don’t have any male glamours, so we’re going to have to try disguises.”
“Why don’t you have any male glamours?” Fred asked.
“Because I never thought I could pull off being a man. It’s not just about how you look, it’s all about how you hold yourself and walk.”
“How are you going to work a disguise if you can’t do a glamour?”
“You are going to give us man lessons.”
Ariana let out a sharp bark of laughter, her eyes twinkling. “Him? Are you kidding? He’s going to give us man lessons?”
“We don’t need to look super convincing as men close up,” Kyra said. “We just need to give the impression of men Fred’s taken into his service. If you saw a potion bottle with a red stamp on it, your brain would make you think it was a red skull, and you’d think it was dangerous even if the stamp was actually a grinning squirrel.” Kyra looked at Fred skeptically. “I’m sure Fred can give us a few tips, at least, of how to act like men.”
“Hey! I am more than capable of giving man lessons.” Fred smiled broadly at Kyra. “What do you want to know?”
“For one thing, we need to know how to walk.”
“No problem. I’ve been walking most of my life.” Fred held up a hand. “Stop and watch.”
The girls leaned up against an apple tree with Rosie at their feet.
“First, you aren’t just acting like any kind of men; you’re going to be especially manly men. I picked you up to work for me, after all, and I wouldn’t choose just any men for that sort of thing. I need men who can fight and lift heavy things. You might want to spit occasionally.”
“Why?”
“It helps keep you from looking too smart. Now, because you are so manly, it naturally follows that you have large upper-arm muscles. Huge muscles, really. The way you let people know this is by slightly bending your elbows and holding your arms out from your body, like your muscles are so big they’re getting in the way.”
Kyra and Ariana bent their elbows and pushed their arms a couple of inches away from their bodies.
The edges of Fred’s lips quirked as though he was trying to restrain a smile. “Then you need to let them know that not only are you muscular, you’re confident of your abilities in all areas. You accomplish this by swaggering when you walk. Langley, stay.” He pointed for the dog to sit next to the girls.
Fred sauntered away from them under the lacey white boughs of the trees in a masculine strut.
“Your turn.”
The girls copied Fred’s walk while he stood back and watched.
“A little less hip swinging, Kyra.”
“I’m not—”
“And don’t walk so close together. Imagine there’s at least one invisible guy between you at all times.”
Ariana leaned over and whispered in Kyra’s ear. “He wants us to imagine him between us. Guys are so weird.”
“Men don’t whisper, but if you have to do it, at least do it the right way.”
Ariana and Kyra stopped walking and turned back to Fred.
“If you find you need to whisper, you don’t get up close to the other person and lean into their ear. Stay where you are, a person’s-width apart, and put a hand up on the far side of your face like a shield.” He demonstrated with his hand out straight from one side of his face. “Then turn your head slightly to the other person and say what you need to say.”
The girls exchanged a look.
“No ‘best friends’ glances at each other like that, either. Or ‘dears’ and ‘darlings.’ Men insult each other every chance they get.”
“Men don’t have best friends?” Kyra asked.
“You’d only know it by the ferocity of the insults. If a guy’s your really good pal, you let him have it at every opportunity.”
“Got it, fathead,” Ariana said.
“Perfect.” Fred plucked two blossoms from the tree above him and tucked one behind each girl’s ear, then grabbed another and tucked it behind his own ear. “You have officially completed man lessons. Now that you know how to act like manly men, what’s the plan?”
“You are the prince, at last come to claim your bride. You hired us to help you…fish, or whatever,” Kyra said.
“But, Kitty, no one is going to be fooled by our manly acts,” Ariana said.
“That’s why we have to sneak past the guards. Royalty never looks closely at servants. But servants do, so we can’t chance the guards blowing our cover. So, Fred, you’re going to have to try to act princely.”
“You know I really am a prince, Kyra.” His green eyes sparkled as they met hers. “I didn’t make
that up.”
“Fred, you’re wearing a flower in your hair. It’s kind of difficult to take you seriously,” Ariana said. “We want people to immediately accept that you’re Prince Frederick, here to marry the princess. If you act more royal, people won’t think twice about us.”
“Did you ever meet Prince Pompadou from Lexeter?” Ariana posed with one hand on her hip and pursed her lips, looking at them down her nose.
“Prince Pompous?” Fred asked.
“That’s what we called him too!” Ariana said.
“I think I can add a little Prince Pompous to my act when we get to court.” Fred rubbed his chin.
“We’ll need hats,” Kyra added. “I’m thinking Ari and I could wear them sort of low over our eyes to hide our hair and so people won’t be able to make out our faces too well.”
“I only have one hat,” Fred said.
“No problem.” Ari grinned and pulled a black-handled dagger out of her belt. “I’ve always wanted to do this.” She grabbed a hunk of hair and sawed at it. A moment later she looked down at a golden swatch of hair in her palm. “This is great. Do you think I could make a mustache out of this?”
They reached the Pearl River at sunset. Kyra took in deep breaths of the clean smell off the water as they approached the bank. The waterway was wide here, about twenty sword-lengths across. “We’re about a mile upstream from Avon-on-the-River and the ducal palace,” she said. “This would be a good place to stop.”
They’d chosen dinnertime to break into the palace, because the night watch wouldn’t have been posted yet, and the daytime guards would be tired and sleepy. And they’d be able to count on the full court retinue being there to witness that there were two princesses when they revealed Ariana’s identity.
“It’s also not far to the miller’s house,” Kyra said. “Remember his wife, Ariana?”
“Super sweet, looks like a dumpling?”
“She’s got a good heart and she can keep a secret. I think we should leave Rosie with her.” Kyra couldn’t look at either of them. “There’s no reason for Rosie to be a part of this. She’s done her job. We can come back for her later.”
They elected Ariana to go, reasoning that most people would have a difficult time saying no to their princess.
“We should give her a little something for doing us this favor,” Ariana said. Both girls looked at Fred.
“Neither of you have money?”
“I’ve been on the floor of a dressmaker’s shop, naked, for the past few months.”
“And I’ve been on the run. My last stay in Wexford wiped me out.”
Fred got out his purse and dropped a handful of coins into Ariana’s palm.
“See if she has any pie she’d be willing to sell,” Kyra instructed.
“Great idea.” Ariana stretched her hand back out to Fred.
“You’re kidding.”
“You try going months without food.”
Fred put some more coins into Ariana’s hand.
“It’s really good pie,” Kyra said.
Fred sighed and gave Ariana still yet more coins.
They set off for the miller’s house. Kyra gave Rosie one last scratch and then stepped back to wait in the trees with Fred.
Langley moved as though to follow, but Fred held the dog back. “Sorry, pal, I wish you could stay there too, but I need to keep you with me. You complete my Prince Frederick look. Plus, you’re good in a fight.” He rubbed the dog’s ears.
Kyra’s throat clogged up as Ariana and Rosie walked up to the house beside the mill. She tried to swallow.
“It’s okay to be attached to Rosie and want to take care of her,” Fred said. “You don’t have to hide that from me.”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
Up the hill, the miller’s wife curtsied to Ariana.
“I think the miller’s wife might be blushing,” Kyra said, briskly changing the subject. “I guess it’s not every day that the princess honors you with a visit.”
“Ariana’s pretty great.”
Wrong subject. “Yeah, she is.” Kyra’s voice came out scratchy.
She kept her eyes on the house, where the miller’s wife welcomed Ariana inside.
“Are you jealous?” Fred asked, shocking Kyra out of her misery.
“What? Why would I be jealous? That’s absurd. Who do you think I’m jealous of?”
“Um—”
“I’m not jealous of anyone. Completely absurd.”
“You already said that.”
“Well, clearly I meant it.”
Kyra bit her tongue to keep from saying anything more. She felt her face heating up.
“Okay,” Fred said.
Okay? That was all he had to say? Kyra really wanted to punch him. Her thoughts raged: Was he talking about leaving the pig behind? Or was he talking about Ariana? Does he care at all about me? If he cared, he wouldn’t have given up so easily with his stupid “Okay.”
She didn’t want him to care anyway.
He belonged with Ariana.
She reminded herself of that back at the clearing by the river, when the two royals sat down next to each other and started preparing food together. Fred pulled bread and cheese out of his pack.
Ariana divvied up the pie.
Langley sniffed the shore, then started lapping water from the river’s edge. He looked lonely without the pig beside him.
Kyra watched the Pearl River swirl by, the rush of water calming her nerves. She was getting better at ignoring the random images that came with her Sight, but they were still just barely tolerable. Could training actually help her control the visions? She shook the thought from her head. She was a potioner; she didn’t have time for woo-woo witchy lessons just to make her day a little easier.
They ate and watched the river until the last bits of bread and cheese were gone.
Fred sprawled out on the ground beside Kyra, leaning back on his elbows. Ariana leaned back as well, and propped her feet on top of Fred’s.
Kyra turned away and dug out a handful of feathers and some extra arrows she’d stowed in her pack.
The sun slowly sank down in the sky.
Fred got up and grabbed his pack. “I’m going to go get changed—I think, Kyra, even you will approve of my clothes. They’re much more ‘princely’ than these.” He headed toward the bushes, turning back to say, “I know it will be difficult, but try to refrain from peeking.”
He disappeared behind the screen of plants.
Ariana dabbed sap above her lip and smoothed a chunk of hair on each side, creating her mustache. “How does this look?”
“Um…”
“The only real answer to that is ‘great.’”
“Looks great, Ari.”
“Convincing and genuine?”
“Uh-huh?”
Fred popped out of the woods wearing a black riding outfit with a long navy velvet cloak attached at the shoulders. “Ariana, there’s a small rodent on your face. Thought you should know.”
“It’s a mustache. Kyra has assured me that it’s extremely convincing.”
Fred shook his head and handed Kyra a suit of clothes. “You should take these—there’s a belt you can use to cinch the pants, and I think the jacket will make you look a little bigger.”
Kyra took the bundle. Fred pulled a hat out of his pack and plopped it on her head.
“Ew, it smells like fish.”
Fred patted Kyra’s head. “It’s my lucky fishing hat. Never been washed.”
Kyra sighed. “Let’s go get changed, Ari.”
Once full dark fell, they set out on the last leg of their journey. The river shushed along beside them as they walked toward the palace.
Currents of energy coursed through Kyra—excitement mingled with fear. She tried not to think of all of the things that could go wrong.
At last they could make out the castle in the distance. Torches and potion-filled bulbs lit up its battlements, and the shadowy figures of guards stood on t
he ramparts and along the front gate.
Kyra, Ariana, and Fred made their way around to the back, staying in the shadows of the forest. The moon had grown round over the past few weeks, and cast down a bright white light.
“There’s a tunnel hidden there,” Kyra explained in a whisper, pointing to a shrine built on the backside of the outer castle wall. “Just behind that bush and the statue of the Goddess of Compassion. It’s for the duke and his family to flee during a siege, or to sneak in supplies.”
There was a stretch of open ground between them and the wall.
“The guards do their rounds on the hour and the half hour. The ones up on the ramparts on the quarter to and quarter of. Our best bet will be to make a run for it after one set of guards has passed and before the next one shows. There,” Kyra said as the duke’s chapel bells began ringing. “It sounds like we’re right on the hour. The ground crew should be by any minute.”
They waited. The statue of the Goddess of Compassion shone silvery white in the moonlight, one hand in her lap and the other held up in a posture of forgiveness. There were flowers at her feet and some lying gently in the stone folds of her robe.
The guards didn’t come. Kyra could almost feel Fred and Ariana holding their breath on either side of her. Langley leaned against Kyra’s legs, and she reached down to rub the top of his head, half wishing Rosie were with them.
No, she reminded herself. It was better that Rosie was somewhere safe.
“Should we make a run for it before the quarter hour hits?” Ariana asked quietly.
Kyra hesitated, a feeling of unease growing inside her. There was a chance that they’d changed security since she’d last been here. If she was wrong about this, what else could she be wrong about?
“Okay,” she said to Ariana. “Let’s go.”
They darted out into the open.
“Halt!” A voice shouted from the side.
The guards had just been running late. Kyra cursed inwardly and pulled out two Doze-tipped throwing needles as she turned toward the sound of the voice.
Two men were running toward them, spears in hand.
Thwip. Thwip.
Kyra’s needles whipped through the air, and both figures fell to the ground. “We’ve got to be fast,” she said, “and we have to hide them before the guards above see.”