Eager as he is for his first real meal in over a month, it is still infuriating to think that the queen lavished so much coin on this green apprentice. The queen was never so generous with him—certainly not before an assignment was fulfilled, either. But at least they will be able to eat.
* * *
BELLIES FULL OF MUTTON and fresh bread slathered in creamy butter, they step back onto the wood-slatted sidewalk. Cal is practically delirious with happiness; he can’t remember the last time he ate so well, the memory of Deersia porridge is too strong. “Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to spend the night here. Rest up some,” he says. “Then head into Montrice early tomorrow.” The luxurious meal has altered his outlook considerably. If she has coin, why should they suffer? The thought of a real bed, even an old lumpy one in a tavern lodge—not to mention the possibility of a bath—is so enticing that he forgets he’s the one who didn’t want to stay in Alvilla to begin with. “We can make arrangements for our introduction to Montrice.”
“Wonder if that inn down the road back there has any vacancies?” Shadow says. They’d passed a two-story wattle-and-daub building on the way into town.
“Not sure that’s a place for a lady,” Cal says. “If you know what I mean.”
She scoffs at that. “I’m not some delicate flower . . .”
“Clearly,” he says, then puts his hand up to quiet her. “Hold on.” He sees a man tacking a sign to a fence post. When he’s finished, he walks back inside his shop—a print shop. The two of them approach the fence to read the sign up close:
**NOTICE**
ESCAPED PRISONER
ARMED AND DANGEROUS
MAY BE TRAVELING WITH HOSTAGE
**DO NOT APPROACH**
ALERT DEERSIA AUTHORITIES IMMEDIATELY
There are two crude charcoal sketches on the poster. One shows a man with an exaggerated upturned nose and bulging eyes over a wild mane of uneven hair and a patchy beard. Underneath the drawing it says, CALEDON HOLT, ARMED AND DANGEROUS. “Terrible likeness,” Cal says, frowning. “Ears are all wrong.” The other drawing shows a handsome young boy with chiseled features and wavy, tousled brown hair, one eyebrow cocked, smiling mischievously: IDENTITY UNKNOWN.
Cal looks at Shadow and then at the picture and back at her again. “Surely they can’t be serious. Did you give them this description yourself? Because—”
“Shame,” Shadow says, shaking her head. “They gave you way too much beard. Yours is actually a bit shorter and gnarlier than that. Otherwise, though . . .”
“You continue to amuse,” Cal says. He looks inside the shop. The printer is still operating the press; he’s making more posters. Soon they’ll be hung all over town.
“Guess we won’t be staying,” Cal says, noticing a young mother and her two small children staring at them from across the lane.
This time, Cal and Shadow agree. The sooner they get out of Renovia, the better.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Shadow
ONCE WE’RE SAFELY OUTSIDE THE village limits, we decide we’ll make do with camping overnight in one of the nearby hill caves before tackling the last stretch into Montrice. The most direct route over the border, a narrow passage between two mountains, is visible in the distance.
“We’ll be too exposed in the gully. I think we should take the high pass,” Cal says.
“But the gully would be much faster,” I reply. “I thought that was what we wanted—to get off the road as quickly as possible?”
Cal exhales loudly.
I hear rustling nearby. I pull back and motion for Cal to move away from the clearing. We steer the horses off the trail behind a dense thicket. From there I’m able to see what caused the noise ahead of us.
About a dozen Aphrasian monks, wearing their telltale gray robes, are gathered around a clear blue spring, resting their horses. We almost wandered straight into them—and a fight.
These aren’t the same men who were attacked by the owls and the wolves, but perhaps they are from the same company.
Cal peers through the trees. “Do you recognize any of them?” I ask him. He shakes his head no. “Let me look,” I tell him. He has the best vantage point where he’s standing. He moves aside to let me get in next to him. Our faces press close together so we can both see at the same time. His beard is scratchy against my cheek.
At first I don’t know who any of the men are, either. None of them look familiar. An older gentleman with a haughty air is ordering them about.
“Wait here,” I tell Cal.
He grabs my arm to stop me. “What are you doing?”
I look down at his hand and he removes it. I make a point to smooth my sleeve where he grabbed it. He rolls his eyes at the gesture but I pretend not to notice. “I’m going to divert them. Then you will escape into the high pass. I’ll meet you there.”
“No.” Cal shakes his head. “No, you will not. I’ll figure out what to do.”
“Really? You agreed that we should go through the woods.”
“Just so you’d stop badgering me about it. And that nearly got us killed.”
My face immediately scrunches in disgust. “And you’ve never made a mistake before? I do happen to know a thing or two. I was also raised by the Guild.”
His gaze hardens on my own. “What exactly do you suggest?” Cal says. I know he’s humoring me, but I’ll take it.
“I’ll distract them. You go on to the high pass. I’ll find you there.”
Cal shakes his head again. “That’s the same plan! If they attack, you won’t be able to fend them off alone.”
He may be right. Then again, maybe not. In the short time since I left home I’ve discovered that I have far more strength and power than I ever knew. Plus I’m determined to prove him wrong. “Let me worry about that.”
“Impossible. You can’t fight that many men. Or outrun them. Even if you managed to get away, you’d lead them straight to us. I’ll check the other side and see if there’s another way around. Wait here.”
I look up into the trees that surround the spring. While Cal wastes time coming up with another plan, I decide to go ahead with my own.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Caledon
WHERE’S SHADOW?
Cal looks around but doesn’t see her anywhere. He almost yells out to her, but he stops himself; the monks might hear.