Page 3 of Queen of the Night
“Two days.” He looks my way, then adds, “If things go according to plan.”
According to plan.Meaning… if we find Darvy and Rhosse alive and waiting for us, which we both hope for. A wave of worry and guilt washes over me—I never wanted anything bad to happen to them.
Soon, the forbidden city looms before us. Few words are exchanged between Ikar and me as the path becomes neatly laid cobblestones that teem with people coming and going from the high kingdom. My nerves tingle with anxiety the closer we get to the tall gilded iron gates, knowing Tatania would choke if she could see me now. It feels so rebellious.
I carefully eye the soldiers guarding the open gates in pristine uniforms as they watchfully scan the crowds of people leaving and entering. For a moment, I have the habitual urge to twist the bracelet around my wrist, but I stop myself. I don’t need the bracelet or anonymity it offers any longer, especially while I’m on a remote mission in the dangerous and gloam-infested Lucent Mountains. What are the chances I’ll meet the high king there? I nearly snort right there on the path. It’s ridiculous the way Tatania and the other Black Tulips have scared us all these years—I’m over it. The money was due today, so I expect something to happen to my bracelet soon. Maybe it’ll break, or maybe it’ll just stop working. Maybe it’ll rust and fall off my wrist in dry brown ashes. I have yet to find out, since not one of the current Tulips has dared allow their bracelets to lapse.
We’re only moments from passing through the gates when Ikar leans close, places Rupi back on my shoulder, and, with a low voice, mutters, “Follow the directions. I’ll send word.”
With Rupi squawking and flapping her wings indignantly in my ear at being handed off without permission, and distracted as I am by Ikar’s sudden nearness and the watching guards ahead, I hardly process his words.
Ikar presses a small piece of folded parchment into my palm. I stop and look down, still getting jostled by the movement around me as I open it. All that’s written is “The Dapper Canary” in fine penmanship with “on the royal tab”written beneath, followed by his signature. When I look up to ask what this is about, Ikar is gone. I’m alone. Well, with the exception of Rupi and her quilled feathers, which are currently stabbing into the tender skin of my neck hard enough to make me wince.
I’ll admit, I feel a little prickly myself at his behavior.
I look all around, turning in a full circle and bumping into other travelers, stumbling when a man with a cart loaded with summer vegetables shoves past as I try to find Ikar. No way could he have disappeared so quickly, and not only that, why would he leave me? I don’t know what I thought, but I certainly hadn’t planned on being separated at the beginning of this contract.
In just moments, I find my confused behavior has drawn the attention of the guards who eye me with suspicion. I curse beneath my breath as I stuff the parchment in my pocket, duck my head, and hurry through the gates into the city—I don’t need trouble with the high king’s law enforcement today.
I’m still miffed that Ikar deserted me, but I’m distracted soon enough. My mouth hangs open in awe as I walk through the large city. Shops of various heights line the winding streets in an orderly fashion. Flowers and vines fill brightly painted boxes and large decorative pots outside shop doors. Ladies in elegant dresses perch on shiny benches, talking and eating pastries purchased from a nearby bakery that emits smells so delectable my mouth waters. There’s a shop with a swinging wooden sign that has a spool of thread pictured, and two dresses hanging in the large window. Another catches my eye, this one with a sword on its sign and its front window featuring an impressive assortment of enchanted weapons. Out of habit, I wonder if their weapon enchanter is in need of an originator, but within moments, I catch myself. I don’t need to keep searching out contracts any longer; this is my last job as anoriginator. I mean it this time. Besides, no one will find me working in Moneyre.
A group of originators dressed in the stark white clothing they’re so easily identified by comes my way on the already crowded sidewalk. I instinctively pull my long dark-navy jacket a little tighter around me, protecting the secrecy of the mark at the base of my neck. I may call myself an originator to survive, but I’ll never be one of them. Originators started the rumors that got the Tulips hunted and killed, and I can’t wait until the day I no longer have to pretend to be one.
Rupi offers a disgruntled hum and a slight poke in the neck with her quill feathers as she shuffles back and forth across my shoulder, agitated by the crowds and my own anxiety. The originators pass, one of their stark white skirts brushing against my tall leather boots, and I try not to glare at the way they so carelessly travel the streets of the high kingdom, laughing and joking together.
How nice for them that they don’t have to hide.I can’t help the resentful thought.
Seeing the group of originators stokes my protective instincts and spurs me to focus on finding The Dapper Canary, which I assume is either an inn or a tavern. But another window full of an assortment of items catches my eye, and I backstep until it’s in full view. I enter the shop, gazing all around.
This. This is what I want.
I’ve just entered the shop of my dreams. I walk down one of five rows of tall wooden shelves. I stop partway down and, with an eye of appreciation, pick up a finely engraved compass, turning and opening it before gently replacing it. Rupi flutters to another shelf and taps a set of dice encased in glasswith her beak. I gasp when I see they’re made of dragon horn and priced to match.
Rupi has always had expensive tastes.
“I love ‘em too, but those cost too much.” I stick out a finger and she hops on.
We continue to stroll the aisles, passing a multitude of other items before I come upon a dainty solid-wood box with the most detailed tiny bird perched on the edge of its lid. I pick it up and open it, the small hinges moving effortlessly. Rupi chirps her approval.
I don’t think; I simply take it to the counter, where a kind young woman wraps it in several layers of paper and ties it up while I count out the last of my money. Should I be purchasing things for my future shop? No. Do I have room in my pack? No. Am I still buying the box?
I slap the money on the counter. This will be perfect to add to the other items I’ve collected over the years and extra motivation to keep my head on straight during this contract so I can toss off the mask of originator and open the shop I’ve always dreamed of… and best of all, befree.
Chapter 2
Ikar
Guilt claws at me for leaving Vera the way I did, but it’s only a matter of time until someone notices me if the charm has worn off, and I can’t have her staying at the castle—not that I think she would even agree to that in the first place. And the fact that glamours don’t work for her eyes? The woman grows more mysterious with every detail I learn about her.
I refocus my thoughts. There will be time later to figure her out. For now, she should be safe enough within Moneyre, but even with that reassuring thought, I worry. She has a knack for finding trouble and only has her small dagger to defend herself with—something I plan to fix immediately.
I quicken my pace, making my way through Moneyre and its beautiful winding streets as my thoughts turn to Darvy and Rhosse. Is it possible they’re alive? Two of my top commanders and best friends since childhood—they’re like brothers to me.They can’t be dead.But if anything can kill one, or even two, of the best soldiers in Moneyre, it’s the Lucent River and the monsters that inhabit its murky depths. I grudgingly try tothink of who I’ll choose to build a team to head into the Lucent Mountains with if Rhosse and Darvy haven’t returned, even though it feels as if I’m giving up hope. But if they haven’t returned… if they’ve died… even mourning can’t keep me from the journey to come, not when an entire kingdom full of people depend on me to repair the dying lucent.
While I’m eager to rush to the castle to seek out news of Darvy and Rhosse, I must make one stop first. I glance up at the sign for the weapons charmer and duck through the doorway into the familiar, shadow-filled interior. Weapons of all sorts line the walls and rest on dark-blue velvet cushions as if they display the most priceless of gems. To a man of war, they are.
A bear of a man lumbers from a back room at the ring of the bell on the door, squinting to see who’s entered. I lower my hood, curious to see if he’ll recognize me.
“Your Majesty.” Renoff inclines his head.
