“She’ll be here soon. There is some delay.” The queen clasped and unclasped her hands. Her eyes looked jaundiced, and her clothes looked like they were too big for her, as if she had lost weight since they were fitted. “But it doesn’t matter. Not to you, because you will be dead. Kill him.” She took a few steps back and looked over at her general.
He had already unsheathed his sword when the first arrow flew and he swung it. Luc didn’t even try to move. He felt the blade go through the wool of his cloak and then vibrate as it connected with his side as if it had hit stone.
The general swore, swapped his sword into his other hand and shook his sword hand out.
“What is it?” There was fear in the queen’s voice.
“He’s wearing a steel plate under there. That’s why the arrows broke.”
“I don’t see a steel plate around his throat.” The queen’s voice was high.
“No.” The general moved again, looked over at the palace guards. “A little help?”
The guards had climbed the steps when the queen had ordered Luc killed, and had hesitated there, waiting for orders.
Before they could move, Luc leaped from the platform, scooped up his sword from where it had been left leaning against the steps, and drew it as he ran back up them.
Oscar was suddenly beside him, sword drawn as well, and they struck together.
Luc ran his blade underneath the palace guard’s arm, and kicked him off the platform into the crowd.
It was a large group of people, and it might occur to some of them to assist the queen. He had created worry and doubt he could be taken though, and that would hold most of them for a while. He would still need to move fast.
He left the second guard to Oscar and engaged with the general.
Luc recognized him. He’d visited the Chosen camps to observe the children’s progress many times.
He was wearing thick armor, far thicker than the palace guards.
Luc blocked his first blow, then spun low and cut the backs of the general’s legs, spun back as he straightened and then slashed the general’s throat with his knife.
He didn’t wait to watch the general fall. He ran straight at the other two palace guards.
One was standing in front of the queen, the other behind.
He shouted a battle cry as he leaped high, sword above his head, and with a cry of fear, the guard in front jumped to the side and rolled off the platform.
The guard left behind the queen stared at his partner in horror, and while he hesitated, Luc spun again and slashed at his arm.
He dropped his sword with a scream and grabbed hold of the wound, scuttling backward down the stairs.
Luc brought his bloody blade up to the queen’s throat. “Where is Ava?”
“I don’t know.” The queen’s words were clear over the hush that fell over the crowd when his sword touched her throat.
“You are lying.”
He heard a murmur wash through the crowd. Saw the look in her eyes that told him she would delay for as long as she had to until someone came up to help her.
He stepped behind her, pulled her up against him and let his sword blade rest across her whole throat.
“They aren’t coming to help you. They don’t think I can be defeated. Both your assassin and your general have proved that. Now, tell me where Ava is, or I’ll do what I’ve wanted to do since the day my mother was murdered in your name.”
“Herron has her.” She cleared her throat. “He said he had taken her to his house.”
“Then let’s go to his house.”
Ava stared down at the jacket on the table before her. She was still amazed at the way her cousin had been able to intercept her and divert the guards to his private residence, which lay between the main square and the palace.
Change was in the wind, obviously, and the guards were calculating that the queen wouldn’t last too much longer.
Better obey their new master now.
They had hedged their bets, though, because she’d seen them pay a messenger to run and inform the queen of the situation.
“Don’t threaten me with death,” she said, looking up at Herron, who was wearing a robe over his trousers, not the shirt she had hoped to see. Her plans had centered around it, but she acknowledged the foolishness of that. She had laid her hopes on things she couldn’t control. She would have to work with what she had. “The queen wants to kill me in public, remember? As a lesson to others.”
He grabbed his hair in both hands and stared at her. “Why are you so difficult?”
She gave a bitter laugh and lifted her hands. “Why won’t I cooperate with the man who murdered my father and chained up my mother and starved her to death? I wonder.”
“Your mother’s death was an accident. The stores manager for the inventory in the dungeons was watching her and making sure she had food while I was away, but then he died, and . . .”
Ava leaned her elbows on the table, her bound hands in front of her, and shook her head. That pathetic excuse did not deserve a reply.
She had to squeeze her eyes shut for a moment, to calm her rage.
He hadn’t given her a needle yet, for the magic he wanted her to work into his jacket—the same jacket he had forced her mother to work on, too—and she wondered if it was worth lying to get her hands on one. At least he would have to untie her hands for her to sew, and that alone would be worth it.
“All right.” She slumped lower. “Give me a needle and I’ll—”
She stopped talking at the knock on his front door.
He turned toward it eagerly. Full of anticipation.
He left the small room they were in, off the main reception area, without a word, and she heard the sound of boots ringing on marble—one of the palace guards coming to check on the door from the kitchen where they were waiting.
The guard and Herron spoke quietly to each other, and the door was opened.
She heard Herron’s voice rise in pleasure and excitement, and she thought she might recognize the other voice as well, although she couldn’t remember where she’d heard it.
The palace guard loomed in the doorway, taking in the garment on the table in front of her with curious eyes.
“He wants me to embroider his jacket before I die,” she said to the guard. Then she rolled her eyes, communicating how strange that was.
The guard shifted, suddenly a little unsure of what he was doing straying from the plan he had been given.
“I’m sure my aunt is annoyed at the delay, but I don’t mind it,” Ava told him. “The longer Herron wants me to sit and sew his jacket, the longer I have to live.”
“I’ll take over now.” Herron’s voice made the guard flinch, and he turned, and sidled out of the doorway.
Herron stepped into the room, and Ava stared at him.
“Look at your face!” He laughed. “It is the most sought-after garment in the city.”
He stretched out an arm and admired the feathers that danced up the sleeve.
“It is beautiful.” Ava didn’t mind if she said so herself.
“And not a black stitch in the whole piece.” Herron winked at her. “I wouldn’t buy it until that had been checked.”
“Very wise. I think we need to go to the queen now.”