Impulsively, Corene threw her arms around Alette. “Oh, how much I wish you would be able to tell us if you make it to safety! Write me, if you can. Send the letter to Darien Serlast in Chialto. The news will eventually find me.”
She was a little surprised that Alette actually hugged her back. “I will. You will hear from me. I will make my way to freedom.”
There was another knock on the door and the sound of someone trying the lock. “Please will you go?” Leah begged as soon as they heard the footfalls move away. “The princess and I have a great deal of ground to cover—and you have a tricky deception to carry out. It’s time to get started.”
“It is,” Corene said. She reached out to squeeze Alette’s hand, one last silent farewell. “Stay here for at least fifteen minutes after we leave. Sit on the red bench as if you are meditating yourself into balance. No one will bother you at the sweela station. We will draw the guards as far away as we can.”
Liramelli looked at her. “You don’t want to go straight back to the palace?”
Corene shook her head. “That’s where we’re most likely to be discovered. I want to stay away as long as possible to let them get far away.”
“Good,” Leah said, nodding. “Go. I’ll talk to you later.” Her face changed abruptly—almost comically. “I forgot! Corene, I have to talk to you. Tomorrow, if possible. Can you come to the market?”
“I can unless Filomara’s thrown me in the dungeons for this little escapade. Did something happen?”
“Sort of. Just come to the market. But go now. Go!”
Corene checked briefly to make sure Teyta was securely wrapped in the yellow shawl, then pulled open the door and ushered the other women before her. She didn’t even glance back at Leah and Alette before she stepped into the sunlight, blinking at the change from the dimness of the temple.
“What a pretty day it is!” she said brightly. “I’d love to go to the red tower and look out over the city. What do you say?”
“Oh—I was just thinking how nice that would be,” Liramelli said. She was a terrible actress, incapable of saying the words in an unforced manner, but Corene wasn’t sure she was any better herself.
Melissande, no surprise, was a natural. “Yes, of course, you know how much I love climbing to the top of the towers! But I had the most delightful thought. Could we perhaps stop somewhere and pick up food to carry with us, so that we might have a nice meal once we have made our way up?”
“Liramelli?” Corene asked. “Is there someplace we could buy food?”
“Yes—there’s a whole street of vendors just a few blocks from the tower. Let’s do that!”
So they directed the coachman to drive them halfway across the city, following the beacon of the jeweled flame dancing on top of the southern tower. The soldiers fell in place around them, none of them seeming to pay much attention to the occupants of the carriage. When they reached the district where dozens of small vendors camped out in their carts, hawking an amazing variety of foods, Liramelli and Corene left the others in the carriage and climbed out to reconnoiter. Foley dismounted to follow them through the crowded street, and three of the soldiers did the same. The rest clustered around the carriage, looking around alertly.
“All went well?” Foley murmured when he drew close enough to Corene.
“So far.”
“The tower is an excellent idea.”
“I’m glad you agree.”
They loaded up on breads and fruits and meat pies and things Corene couldn’t identify but that Liramelli assured her everyone would like, and then they clambered back into the carriage. It took some time to navigate the vendors’ alley, and part of Corene wanted to shriek with impatience. She had to remind herself that it was a good thing to be blocked at every corner by old women slowly crossing the street or riderless horses patiently awaiting their masters. They were in no hurry to get back to the palace—they were as safe now as they would ever be.
It was well past noon before they finally made it to the red tower, and they were all hungry by then. And a little irritable with the strain of constant vigilance. Well, Teyta didn’t seem irritable in the least. She was clearly enjoying every part of this expedition—the ride in a well-sprung carriage, the prospect of good food that she hadn’t had to cook or pay for, and, of course, the ongoing charade. A couple of times Corene had to whisper a reminder to cover her face with the shawl. Probably not one palace guard out of a thousand would remember that Alette had blue eyes—but just in case that one guard was part of this detail—
Teyta was less thrilled with the adventure once they disembarked from the carriage and she realized that Corene really intended for them all to climb to the top of the tower. “But—it’s so very high up,” she protested weakly.
“It is,” Corene said. “Just think how good your appetite will be once you’ve had all that exercise!”
Foley went with them, of course; he even carried most of the food, since the rest of them had little energy left to do more than heave themselves up the stairs. Melissande complained for the entire climb—which only proved, Corene thought, that she was in excellent physical condition. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have had the breath to grumble.
As for herself, Corene felt stronger with every step she took up. The temperature rose as they grew closer to the blaze, but that only fed her energy. She was a child of fire, after all: wayward and unpredictable and sometimes dangerous. She could wreak havoc or she could beat back the darkness; it was all in how she chose to employ her intelligence, her skill. She might allow herself to be controlled, but only when it suited her own ends. She must never forget that she had the power to forge her own destiny.
Where is all that coming from? she thought with a silent laugh. But she didn’t mind. She felt good, she felt strong—she felt, for the first time since she’d arrived in Palminera, like she had done something that mattered.
Liramelli was the first to climb through the trapdoor and she called encouraging words to Teyta, who was struggling. “Just a few more steps—that’s right—and here you are! Now catch your breath and look around. I know you’ll agree the effort was worth it.”
Melissande was a step behind them. “What? Here already? I could climb twice as far!” she exclaimed.
“Perhaps you can run down when we’re on our way back,” Corene said, climbing up beside her. “And then run back up!”
“Yes, a most appealing plan,” Melissande said.
“But first we eat,” Liramelli said. “I’m utterly starving.”
They all dropped to the hard wooden surface of the landing, Foley situating himself right at the trapdoor in case anyone came up looking to offer harm. A steady wind carried away just enough of the heat to make the temperature tolerable—and anyway, they were all so hungry that they couldn’t be bothered to complain about the fire. They all tore into the food as if they might not get another meal for the rest of their lives. The hot dishes were cold by now, the fresh ones wilted, but none of them cared.
“Nothing has ever tasted so good,” Melissande pronounced. “No, not the finest banquet in Cozique! It is sumptuously delicious.”
“My mother doesn’t like us to eat street food, but this is wonderful,” Teyta agreed. Corene noticed that Teyta tried a little of everything except the meat pie with zeezin. Clearly her grandmother had taught the next two generations the prohibition against that funereal spice.
Once they’d finished their meal, Corene insisted that Teyta stand at the railing and take in the vista below them—the toy-sized houses and horses in the streets nearby; the shadow of the sea in the distance; the chiaroscuro arrangement of the palace labyrinth, light and dark nestled together. “Wasn’t I right? Isn’t the view worth the effort of the climb?”
“It is pretty impressive,” Teyta admitted.
“Yes, exceedingly grand,” Melissande added. “But myself, I am not
enough enamored of the scenery to want to climb up these steps ever again. And I am starting to grow very warm. Is it time to climb back down?”
Liramelli started gathering leftovers. “I think it is,” she said. “We have to get back. I have a great deal to do before dinner.”
“Yes—how shall we manage dinner?” Melissande asked as she came gracefully to her feet.
“Alette has been in your room these past few nights, hasn’t she?” Corene asked.
“She has. But whenever she doesn’t join us for a meal, the empress sends servants with a tray of food. And depending on who the servant is—”
She might realize that Teyta is an imposter.
Corene frowned. “Then perhaps neither of you go down to dinner tonight,” she said. “When the servants come, you can answer the door and say Alette is sleeping. Say you both feel unwell and you decided to stay in.”
“That should work,” Liramelli said. “But how do we get Teyta out of the palace? They’ll stop her from leaving if they think she’s Alette. And when they realize she’s not—”
Teyta, who should have been far more nervous than she appeared to be, merely smiled. “My mother and my sister are coming quite early in the morning to make deliveries to the kitchen,” she said. “I’ll be downstairs awaiting them and I’ll walk out when they do. No one will notice that there is one more Dhonshon in the group.”
“If it is that simple, we should have sent Alette out with Teyta’s family!” Melissande exclaimed.
“No, because if the guards stop Teyta’s family tomorrow, they’ll find only Teyta,” Liramelli said. “But if Alette had tried to escape with them—”
“It still feels very dangerous,” Melissande said. “I cannot help but worry.”
“Worry won’t help anybody now,” Liramelli said, following Foley as he lowered himself to the stairs. “We just have to act our parts.”
They got a chance to do that sooner than they expected. They had barely settled themselves in the carriage when they spotted a group of five riders approaching the tower on horseback. Corene had barely registered that three of the riders were wearing palace livery when Foley leaned over and spoke in a low, sharp voice.
“Royal guards. And Garameno. He’ll want to speak to you.”
“Oh no!” Liramelli cried, instantly looking around as if there might be a place to run. “Has he seen us?”
“Of course he has,” Corene snapped. “Teyta, draw your shawl closer. Shut your eyes. Lean against Melissande as if you’re ill.”
Teyta had barely complied with these directives before Garameno hailed them, drawing his horse alongside their carriage.
“I see we all had the same idea on this fine day,” he greeted them. “Had I known you were coming here, I would have petitioned to accompany you.”
Liramelli fidgeted in her seat, but Corene spoke with what she hoped was indifferent calm. “It wasn’t our original destination. First we headed to the Welchin temple down by Little Islands. Coming here was a last-minute thought.”
His attention had been caught by Teyta’s mournful form. “What’s wrong with Alette? She didn’t attempt—” He kindly did not complete the sentence.
“No, we think she may have eaten something that disagreed with her,” Corene said. “We stopped to pick up food along the way and—” She shrugged.
Now Garameno glanced at Liramelli. “You didn’t take them to Tower Alley, did you?”
She looked guilty. “I did! But we were careful about what we bought—at least I thought we were.”
He shook his head, looking faintly amused. “The sickest I ever was in my life was the time I ate fried meat strips I bought off a cook in Tower Alley,” he said. “I threw up until I thought my bones would be the next things I vomited. And if I remember correctly, you had a similar experience.”
Liramelli managed a wan smile. “Yes—Greggorio and I both were sick on more than one occasion. But that was ages ago! Surely they’re all different vendors by now!”
“Different vendors, same effects,” Garameno said. “How are the rest of you feeling?”
“I was fine until you started talking about vomiting,” Corene said.
“I admit, my stomach has been feeling just a tiny bit unsettled,” Melissande said in an uneasy voice. Teyta gave a small moan, and Melissande drew the girl closer. “But at the moment I am most concerned about Alette. Can we not simply go home now, as quickly as possible? I want to get the poor girl to bed.”
Garameno waved carelessly and backed his horse from the carriage. “I’ll see you all tonight at dinner—or perhaps not!”
Liramelli and Corene waved back; Melissande just patted Teyta’s hair and murmured reassurances into her ear. Corene waited until the tower was a good distance behind before she spoke in an excited voice.
“That could have been a disaster, but I think it was a stroke of luck,” she said. “Now he will believe us when none of us come down for dinner.”
“Well, I really think I could throw up, so I don’t know that I was lying,” Liramelli said.
“Oh, you should have done it—right on his shoes!” Corene answered. “That would have convinced him.”
“Can I sit up now?” Teyta asked, her head still on Melissande’s shoulder.
“Better not,” Corene decided. “I’m sure some of the soldiers report directly to Filomara. Let’s not give them any reason to doubt our story.”
They had always known that the diciest part of the whole day would be their arrival at the palace doors, and Corene found herself growing increasingly tense from the minute they passed through the gates of the inner wall. Her stomach felt like it had been clenched in an iron fist, and as they turned into the courtyard and came to a gentle stop, she felt that grip tighten and twist.
Footmen streamed from the door, but Corene didn’t wait for their assistance. She leapt from the carriage, ran to the decorative bushes that lined the nearest wall, and vomited up her lunch. A retching noise to her left informed her that Liramelli was right beside her, doing the same.
As she knelt before the bushes, waiting to see if she would be overtaken by another bout of nausea, she heard Melissande’s imperious voice behind her. “No, I do not want to be helped up the stairs, and neither does Alette. We are in a very precarious state and if you jostle us, you will be sorry. Merely stay out of our way and let us get to my room. Thank you.”
Corene heard the rustle and creak of people disembarking from the carriage, then light footfalls fading away as Melissande led Teyta into the palace, then the sound of wheels and horse hooves as the carriage drove off. More footfalls, these drawing closer, and she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Can I help you to your room?” It was Foley.
“I’m not sure I can stand.”
“I can carry you.”
“I think if you move me, I’ll just throw up all over you.”
“That wouldn’t bother me.”
She managed a ghost of a laugh. “Well, it would bother me. Just let me stay here another minute.”
She took a couple of slow, shallow breaths then tried lifting her head. That wasn’t so bad. She was even able to glance around to take in the scene. Liramelli had managed to come to her feet with the aid of Lorian, who fussed over her with the solicitude of a beloved uncle. He led her to the door, where other footmen waited, but Corene didn’t see if he handed her over to anyone else.
She turned her head just enough to address Foley in a low voice. “Melissande and—and Alette?”
“Through the door with no interference. I didn’t watch to see how far they made it. I’m more concerned about you.”
“I’m not the key player in this particular drama.”
“To me you are.”
That was nice to hear, though still inaccurate. Corene put out a hand and Foley gently pulled her to her feet. Nau
sea roiled through her stomach again, but she waited and it passed. “Let’s try it,” she said.
The walk from the courtyard through the door took impossibly long, and the path from the door to the stairwell seemed like a mile. Corene came to a halt before placing her foot on the first step and gazed up at the endless staircase.
“I’m not sure—”
“I know,” Foley said. He bent and picked her up, cradling her against his chest as he slowly ascended.
Corene closed her eyes as her head swam and the steady motion made her stomach clench again. But in a moment the dizziness subsided and all she was aware of was her cheek pressed against the rough cloth of Foley’s jacket. The shape of his body and the scent of his skin. It was almost worth being sick to experience the pleasure of being in Foley’s arms.
This was not the first time he’d carried her somewhere. Even in her wretched state, she found herself wondering if he remembered that.
It had been during the winter she and Josetta were away from the Chialto court, hiding out in case anyone else wanted to harm them. They had been traveling the country in the company of two itinerant traders, friends of Zoe’s, and Foley had been with them. Of course Foley had been with them. Those were the days when you never saw Josetta unless Foley was three steps behind her.
Jaker and Barlow had been at a small town off the main road, finding buyers for their merchandise, but they’d left Corene and Josetta at the campground with the wagon. The day had been cold but sunny, and it was a rare treat to not be trapped in the rocking wagon all day, covering the interminable open miles of the western provinces. So they’d gone off for a slippery walk across an icy meadow, reveling in the sunshine and the exercise, and Corene had tripped and fallen and twisted her ankle.
She’d tried not to cry—because she was twelve years old now and people were finally starting to treat her like an adult and Josetta was finally starting to like her after all those years of despising her—but she couldn’t help it. She was in too much pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said over and over as Josetta carefully straightened her leg and felt along the bruise and pronounced, with great relief, that she didn’t think anything was broken.