Page 138 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
“Huh?”
Pete shouldered his quiver. “In order to pass into Covenlen, we must first pass into Lithalaly. To do that, we must cross Crowcairn Bridge—which is heavily patrolled by Ogres who will, quite happily, crush our skulls like grapes if we try to make passage without paying their tithe.”
I gawped at Pete.
“Which is 1,000 seeds from high order fruits, if you care to know.”
I dropped my face to my knees. Of course, Evereostre had a fricking turnpike.
“Seeing as you’ve impoverished us on the road,” Pete grumbled as Sionna wagged over to see if I was all right, “we’re now faced with finding a way to refill my purse before we become sitting ducks in a slaughter. So, we’re going to make a go at it tonight, whether you like it or not.”
Already cringing, I peered back up at Pete’s irate face. “We?”
His gaze sharpened. “Aye.”
Without waiting for further complaints, he whistled for Sionna, who gave my cheek a comforting lick before leaping to her master’s boots. “Make camp here. We’ll return with meat. You’ll need a full belly for tonight.”
He was probably right, but I doubted I’d have an appetite, as nauseous as I was.
As Pete commanded, I skittered around the miniscule clearing he’d secluded us in—in the middle of a damn town—setting up our usual camp. His bedroll. My cloak. A small fire pit. I even unlatched Bob from the wagon, so he could graze unhindered. And every single time I heard a voice or footfalls drawing near, I’d freeze like a goat about to faint until I was certain Bob and I remained unseen.
I’d just finished checking the status of Pete’s water skin when I overheard voices heading toward me on the road beyond the myrtles—straight from center city. Cursing, I huddled in the wagon bed, praying for invisibility.
My eyes popped open when one voice, a smooth baritone, clearly remarked, “Aye, well, you can’t blame them for the brouhaha. Who wouldn’t revel, seeing the convoy in all its finery? Sakes alive, the crown’s own faelets be in it.”
“What?” I shrieked, then barreled from my hideaway, knowing I was endangering myself if I’d heard wrong.
The unsuspecting Middlings strolling down the road both yelped when I leapt into their path. I grabbed the nearest of them, a burly scaled fellow of iridescent color, by his tunic collar. He boggled at me through long-lashed, sky-blue orbs.
“The convoy,” I croaked, desperate and scared as hell. “You’re sure it was royal?”
Understandably bewildered by my sudden appearance, my rudeness, my accent, my everything, the bulky feyr just continued gaping.
His friend, slenderer, though just as tall, scratched his feathered forehead. “Aye, lady,” he answered for his dumbstruck pal. “They ride under the Larkspur banner. Heading onto the Spring Palace, I heard.”
Why would they take such an odd path to the palace?I wondered.
They wouldn’t, Amy!They’re looking foryou!
I grabbed the second male, downy as a goose, and got right up near his prominent nose. “You said the crown faelets were traveling in it.” Mother, I hoped my hands wouldn’t ignite and turn him into a drumstick. “Did youseethem?”
From what Pete had told me, any inconsequential party conducting royal business rode under the Larkspur banner. And after hearing about the diverted river, I suspected there were factions in my father’s court loyal to Gentian. Who else would agree to something Briar hadn’t even been consulted about? So, I had to know what cavalcade I’d now be racing toward like Phaedra, the loopy character onRoomies.
Birdman blinked. “Aye, lady. They waved at us. We spied the prince first, then the sweet princess. And the princess’s wee moggie.”
“Herwhat?”
The feyrs shared a look.
“You’ve not heard of a moggie, lady?” the hefty feyr finally spoke, the source of the rough baritone I’d first heard. “Er—um—a mouser?”
A living spasm, I released Birdman. “A cat!”
They stepped back.
“When did the convoy leave?” I was already sidling toward the swarms of Humwater Dellians thronging the deciduous town hub. The convoy must’ve ventured down the next road.
My Goddess! Is that really the tail end of a coach?
