Thrallmagic: Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I tap my foot impatiently as I wait for Captain Wyrnson to open his door. I knock again, more insistently, and run a hand through my still-messy hair. When he opens the door, he’s bare-chested, and sweat glistens on his arms and neck. He looks mildly annoyed, but I brush past him, perching on the end of a table and crossing my legs. He disappears into his bathing room and comes out with a shirt on, somewhat cleaner.

“Can I help you, your highness?” He pours me a glass of wine, but I wave it away. Sitting down, he watches me impatiently.

“Muirinn looked at me today.” My words hang in the air, and Captain Wyrnson furrows his brow.

“Why? What happened?” He toys with the pommel of the sword and looks out the window anxiously.

I raise an eyebrow. “Do you have somewhere more pressing to be, Captain?” I look out the window, half expecting someone to be gesturing to him from outside, but nothing meets my gaze except a mostly empty courtyard.

“I do, actually. Her Majesty wishes to meet with me.” He looks perfectly composed as he says the words, not seeming anxious or worried in the least. I clench my teeth, wishing for once that everyone would stop pretending and hiding.

Taking a deep breath, I reply. “Of course. I’ll come find you later, then.” Standing up, I nod to him, and then sweep out the door, thoroughly annoyed at the way my morning has played out.

Massaging my neck, I step down the stairs, nearly running into a nobleman as I round the corner. Not knowing exactly where I want to go, I wind through the long corridors, seeing and not seeing anyone. My steps are thoughtless, but my mind whirls as I try to make sense of everything. A sudden need to get away from everything possesses me, and I practically run back to my chambers, changing into the same garments I wore two nights ago. Finding some coin I’ve secreted away in a hidden drawer, I slip down to the courtyard, hunching down and trying not to be noticed. Instead of going to the gates, I find a particularly isolated section of the wall and climb over it, jumping down on the other side and praying to the Triad that I don’t meet anyone.

I walk to the city, managing to lose myself among the midmorning masses. My stomach growls, and I stop to purchase a honey crisp before continuing on my way. I wander through the streets aimlessly, breathing in the smoky air. The city is different in the daytime. A little girl runs past me, giggling, an apple loosely clutched in her hand. The ribbon in one of her braids has come undone, and it flaps behind her as she runs. I allow myself a smile and toss a copper to a girl playing a flute. I lose myself in my thoughts again as I walk, wondering how the poison has found its way to me.

As I turn the street corner, the last bite of my honey crisp in my mouth, someone brushes past me, nearly pushing me into the wall. I look up angrily when I notice that my purse is missing, and not thinking, run towards the rapidly retreating figure. The thief leads me on a lovely chase, until I finally counter them at a mostly deserted street corner. Drawing the energy of the sun into me, I let twin spheres of flame form in each hand. Still, I can’t hurt him without incinerating my purse and my ring inside it, so I simply hold them, hoping to intimidate him.

“Drop your hood, thief.” The thief takes off the cloak entirely, revealing a boy close to my age underneath. He’s clad in dark trousers and a dark purple velvet coat that looks more expensive than he can afford. It has many pockets sewn onto it, but they only seem to add to the roguish grandeur he seems to have about him. “Give me back my purse.”

He raises a dirty eyebrow. “Or what, my lady? Will you scream for your guards and faint? Or will you have me hung?” The title is said sarcastically, and I sigh in relief, for it means that he does not know who I am. But if he takes that purse, he will. Your seal ring is in there!

Clenching my teeth, I put my hands up, letting the magic dissipate. “I’ll do neither, alright? I just need my purse back. If you want, I’ll give you all the gold in there.”

“D’you really think that I’ll believe that?” His lips curl into a sneer, and he opens the purse. My nails dig into my palms, and I bite my lip under my hood. “Let’s see what so important to you that’s in here!”

“Please, don’t. If not for my sake, then yours.” I take a step towards him, reaching on of my hands out, but he jerks back, looking at me suspiciously.

“Don’t come any closer.” He shakes the gold into his hand and pockets it happily. When he shakes it again, my ring falls into his grimy hand, and he looks at it, confused. “How’d ya get this? Where’d ya get this made?” He looks back at me in wonder, relaxing somewhat. “That’s the best counterfeit I e’er seen.”

A smile twists onto my face as I realise that he thinks it’s only a fake. “Th-thanks. Can I just have the ring back, please?”

An easier smile lights his face. “You can have all of it back if you drop the hood, girlie.”

At his words, I suppress a string of curses, hissing softly in annoyance. “I can’t do that, I’m sor-“

He shrugs. “Either drop the hood, or I’m gone, love.” His stance shifts as though he’s ready to run, and I lean forward urgently.

“No! Don’t.” Taking a deep breath, I say, “Fine, I’ll drop the hood, if you’ll swear on the truth that you’ll give my ring back to me after and let me go. Immediately after.”

He nods. “Alright, yeah, I said I would, didn’t I? Go on, then, I haven’t got all day.”

Steeling myself for whatever might happen next, I tip my head back, letting the hood drop back and revealing my features. “There. Now give it back.”

His dark eyes flick over my features, and his mouth moves without forming words as he takes in my pale blue eyes and almost-black hair. “That isn’t a counterfeit, is it?” He says the words as a question, his voice hoarse, but I know that nothing I say will convince him otherwise.

I draw my dagger, hating myself for being prepared to kill this boy if I have to. “No, it’s not. Will you still give it back?”

He blinks. “I don’t exactly have a choice, do I? I’m not so stupid of a thief to steal something so valuable.” A grin of pride lights his face for a second before fading away quickly. “Anyway, I swore.”

Shrugging, he tosses me the ring, and I slip it into my pocket, relieved. “Thanks.”

As I turn to leave, he calls me back. “Wait! I know you’ve no reason to, but d’you mind coming with me to meet some mates of mine?”

I turn back around, studying him suspiciously. “Why should I trust you? You know who I am, and I’m sure there’s someone out there who’d pay a pretty penny in exchange for my head.”

He snorts. “Fine, then. Be on your way.” Muttering something about witless royals, he starts to walk away. I try to clasp my fingers around my dagger, but empty air meets my fingers. I run after the boy. “Did you just take my dagger?” Annoyance is building up inside me, and I struggle to keep a lid on my temper.

The boy turns around, stopping, and tosses a dagger- my dagger- in the air, playing with it. “Come with me, an’ I’ll give it back.” He gives me a broad grin and turns around, walking away from me again.

I glare at his retreating figure angrily for a moment before calling to him, saying, “Fine, I’ll come with you. But if you even think about hurting me, I promise you’ll be ash before you can utter a single word.” Tossing my hood back up, I stride past him, head held high.

He chuckles to himself and pauses a second to let me catch up and to slip the dagger into a hidden pocket on his coat somewhere. “Fiery temper. It suits you.” Tossing an easy smile my way, he runs ahead of me, calling back, “Keep up if you can, princess.”

Rolling my eyes, I put on speed, easily catching up to his easy pace. “Don’t call me that. Someone could hear.”

He snorts, running even faster as we wind our way through the maze of streets. “It’s what you are, isn’t it?”

I growl low in my throat, but don’t say anything, keeping my stride even. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“All in due time, love. Have a bit o’ patience, would ya?” He turns a sharp right, practically disappearing into the alley, and I follow him, nearly tripping over my own feet.

Annoyance creeps into my voice as I say, “A little warning next time, if you don’t mind?” The sun shines brightly in my eyes, and I lift a hand to my face, shading it.

The boy slows down, and as I open my mouth to ask if we’re here, I realise that I don’t know what his name is. “What’s your name?”

He shoots an incredulous look at me as we stand there catching our breath. “Surprised you care.” Just as I open my mouth to say something snide back to him, he says, “Drian. What’s yours?”

I huff, annoyed. “You know what my name is, remember?” When Drian grasps the ledge of a roof and pulls himself up, I follow, waiting until my feet have settled onto solid ground to go on. “Call me Ria.”

He offers his hand to me as we scale a balcony, but I ignore him, crawling up past him and throwing him a taunting smile? “Can’t keep up?”

“Right, you wish.” Drian scrambles up beside me, letting himself swing up and over the railing of the balcony. Surprisingly, he draws a mask out of his pocket made of a purple fabric that matches his coat. Handing it to me awkwardly, he says, “Put it on. I trust them, but you don’t, and you never know when it comes to thieves.” With a self-deprecating smile, he reaches an arm out to take my cloak.

As I surrender it to him, nervousness wells in the pit of my stomach. What if he’s leading me into an ambush? What am I supposed to do then? Lindon pops into my mind, and gesturing for Drian to wait for a moment, I try to stretch my mind to Lindon’s. Hoping he’s not doing anything too important, I call to him in my mind.

Lindon? Can you hear me? A wave of pain rushes to me, and I wince.

What is it, Ria? Lindon’s reply echoes in my head, and I concentrate on what he’s saying.

I sort of snuck out of the palace and ran into a… theif. I wince outwardly, ignoring Drian’s confused expression, and wondering what Lindon’s reply will be.

A thief? Are you alright? Why would you sneak out of the palace? Why didn’t you take anyone with you? Lindon’s rapid-fire questions bounce around in my head, and a gradual ache starts at the base of my neck.

I think back to him, Lindon, slow down! I’m fine, just… watch out for me, alright? The thief says his name is Drian. I don’t trust him, but I don’t think he’s powerful enough to hurt me, even with help.

Lindon starts to say something back, but I block his thoughts away, sending my feelings of annoyance and exhaustion. I feel him retreat, still on guard but not bothering me any longer.

Coming back to the present, I gesture grandly to Drian. “After you, then.”

Giving me an odd expression, he nods to the mask. “Aren’t you going to put that on?”

I tie it around my eyes so that it rests on my nose, the velvet tickling the arch of my cheekbones. “Ready.”

He takes a key out from one of the many pockets of his coat and unlocks the glass doors. “Welcome to my humble abode, Ria.”