Ch 7: For a Friend

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Too nervous to go about the castle with the members of The Hunt wandering about, I went back to my room. Better to be safe. It was my life's motto, though Joreen would call it cowardice instead of caution.

I sat on the edge of my bed, rubbed my palms across my thighs, and dragged in a trembling breath. How had everything gone awry so quickly? Rain splatters against my window drew my gaze to the warped glass panes, and I was reminded of Joreen standing there. Perhaps that's where I was wrong. There was nothing quick about what was happening in Edresh; I just no longer had the benefit of ignorance.

"Always crying," the Reaper said, materializing in the center of my room, causing me to shriek in surprise. Beneath his headwrap, I could not tell if he was amused by the outburst.

Scrambling away from him, I touched my cheek to find he was right. Scrubbing away the tear, I leveled a frosty glare in his direction, but he ignored it. Garbed in the same outfit as before, he stalked around the small bedchamber, looking at everything with keen interest. A finger slid across the silver hairbrush lying on the vanity and then made its way across the book of poetry on my nightstand. His cloak appeared ordinary at the moment, hanging limply around his lean figure as he moved.

"So much is similar here," he said, before looking at me and shaking his head. "But much is different too."

"Why are you still here? You've done your job. Go." I wanted him gone, and not just because his presence in my personal haven made me uncomfortable. There was something about the Reaper that put me on edge. Perhaps the mix of boyish charm and danger? Or the knowledge that he would slit my throat if he was told to do so?

"You think Reapers are only around for the souls of High Elves? One of the queen's ladies, a Pixie girl from the east, fell ill. Already, her soul is separating from its fleshy cage. I will have to attend to her in a few minutes."

"You're the first Reaper I've ever seen. Why do the souls in Edresh need your assistance?"

He scoffed. "Just because you have not seen us does not mean we are not present, and if your king had not meddled with the natural order of things, most souls would have no need of a Reaper."

Curious, I leaned in. "So why speak to me? Why not just do your work and go?"

"Because I did not expect to find a Deathsinger in Edresh, and I need your help."

I looked at my door, heart pounding in my chest. "You cannot say that so loudly. Someone might hear."

His eyebrows raised. "Last time you protested being called that. What has changed?"

"Why are you here, and how do you expect me to help you?"

The Reaper spun the globe on my desk. It was my favorite possession, depicting our world in vivid detail. Each of the four enclaves within Edresh were represented, their colors and magic flaring whenever they were touched. When it spun, silver and gold ribbons of fire consumed it all, merging into a single star speckled blanket. It had cost me an entire month's allowance, but I saw it and could not walk away.

"I must go," he announced, ignoring my question. The cloak billowed around him until he was wrapped like a caterpillar in a chrysalis. It turned to shredded mist, and the last thing to disappear were his unnerving brown eyes.

Once again, I'd survived an encounter with the Reaper. It would be better for me if it was our last. Something told me it would not be, and I wasn't sure which option frightened me more.

I flopped back on the bed and stared at the wooden beams crossing the ceiling. The patterns of the grain were more familiar to me than my own fingerprints. Years of lying here, tracing them as I pondered the day's events or wondered about my past, had engraved them into my mind and memories almost as deeply as they were ingrained in the wood. I almost believed there was a bit of magic in the lines. Something that opened my eyes to the answers to my problems.

But if there was magic, it failed me today. Nothing came to me as I lay there but a growing sense of unease. Somewhere in the bowels of the castle, an innocent girl was being mistreated, and somewhere far above me was another girl willing to risk everything to save her.

Astreia would never understand if I didn't come to her room. She would brush it off, promise me that all was well between us, and over the days and weeks, cracks would form in our friendship. Not even my unrequited love for Tievel would do as much damage as abandoning her in this quest. I knew why she was so driven to help the girl. She saw no differences in her circumstances and the girl's beyond the fact that her chain was of finer quality. I knew I would help her, because if the worst happened—if she was caught because I didn't help her—I would never forgive myself.

What did that say about me? That if it wasn't for my friend, I would be willing to let the girl languish and rot in order to save my own skin? I rolled to my side and sighed. It said that Joreen was right, and it was that thought that drove me to my feet.

I was late. The evening bells would ring soon. Already, the air was perfumed with the smoke and oil of freshly lit torches. Fearing the bell would ring before I made it, I walked quickly, holding up my skirts and keeping my head down.

Astreia's door swung open before my knuckles could contact the wood, and I let my arm drop listlessly at my side. The Starlight Princess stared at me a long while before stepping into the corridor and locking the door behind her. Lungs still burning from my mad dash through the castle, I followed a few steps behind, gathering my thoughts while waiting for her to speak.

There were more elves wandering about outside on this side of the castle than I expected with curfew near, and no one appeared to be in a hurry. Faint, cheerful music reached us as we took the path that led to the gardens.

"What about the curfew?"

"King Brinley has lifted it for the nobles this evening as long as we stay within the walls of the castle. The High Elves wished to celebrate the capture of the Deathsinger."

Stones crunched beneath our shoes as we wandered the garden paths. Astreia chewed on her lip and stared ahead, saying nothing even when we reached the darkest corner. The bells tolled, and the last of the sunshine disappeared below the horizon, bathing the world in indigo and moonlight. Still, Astreia said nothing.


Unable to bear the silence any longer, I asked, "Are you very angry with me?"

She paused and clutched her hands in front of her breasts. Head tipped back, she bathed in the heavenly light until small specks of light appeared everywhere her skin was exposed. Years of witnessing her body transform into a map of the night sky had not lessened the awe it inspired, and I slid a finger along my favorite constellation—Shay's Diadem. The light bit through my skin, turning the tip of my finger a rosy pink.

"This is going to make it very difficult to sneak anyone out of a dungeon," I mused, hoping a bit of humor would ease the tension between us.

"You thought about not coming." It wasn't a question.

Pulling her into a hedge of Moon roses, I gripped her hand in mine as I replied. "If we're caught, you'll be punished by being locked up. I'll have my head separated from my neck, and that will be a blessing after the torture they'll put me through. A low elf like me freeing an accused Deathsinger is akin to claiming to be one myself."

That was the closest I could ever come to admitting the truth to anyone. Just allowing the name Deathsinger to move beyond my lips felt foolish and thrilling at the same time.

"I'd rather that than be stuck in this cage," she said, pulling her hand away slowly, her glowing eyes pleading with me to understand.

"And that's why I came."

She threw her arms around my neck, and I sank into her hug. Two of the queen's ladies walked by, their gazes fixed on the path before them as they spoke in whispers. We held our breath until they passed.

"What's the plan, then?" I asked when we were once again alone.

"About that..." She bit her lip and looked away. "You're not going to like it. Not at all."

I groaned. "Are you trying to get me to change my mind?"

She looped her arm through mine and pulled me back onto the path. "King Brinley ordered Tievel to stand guard until they render the girl speechless. I think it's his way of punishing his son for challenging him today. Queen Thera is furious, and she's ordered me to tend to her son's every need, and who better to bring with me than my companion."

"Oh. So, we're not going to actually sneak in?"

"Outside of coming in through the sewers and incapacitating a guard, there was no way to sneak into the prisons."

A weight settled in my gut. "So, what is the plan? Distract them?"

"Precisely."

"How do you propose we do that?"

I pressed a finger to the space between my eyes and sighed. This sounded very much like the princess had no plan at all. Astreia smiled as we passed another couple, and then guided us back to her rooms. She shut the door and turned to me.

"We're going to use the only weapons they can't take from us. Our feminine wiles."

"Oh gods."

She chuckled and pressed me into the chair in front of her vanity. Her hands moved swiftly over her jars and pots of makeup. Every so often she would study one, look at my face, shake her head, and go to the next.

"This is silly."

"Why? I'm not ashamed to use my body when it suits me. It's often far more dangerous than steel. Close your eyes."

Fur bristles tickled my flesh as she applied powders and creams. It was hard not to sneak a peek whenever she stopped to put more product on the brush or swap colors, but I learned long ago to be patient when she was working. It had been years since I allowed her to put makeup on me, but I doubted she had changed in regards to that. Hopefully, her skills had improved, though. I looked like I'd been punched in the eye last time.

"I'm not ashamed. I'm simply not in possession of them."

"Says the low elf who has enamored a prince without magical means."

"Astreia–"

"There. Look." Her voice was smug, and when I opened my eyes, I decided she had every right to be.

Red painted lips parted in surprise as I leaned closer to the mirror, pressing the tips of my fingers against my dewy skin. Pretty pink shimmered over my cheekbones, and she had used powders the color of a rainy morning to enhance the size of my eyes. This girl did not look like a companion or a maid. She looked like she could sit on a throne beside her prince.

"My hair..." I drew a dark strand over my shoulder. Nothing could be done to make it more fashionable.

"Is beautiful and striking against your pale complexion," Astreia said, taking the strand and weaving it into a braid.

She braided another piece on the opposite side of my head before curling the rest of it. Securing it in the center with a piece of string and some pins, she looped the braids around the ponytail. To hide the string, she slid a gem encrusted comb over the spot where the braids met.

"Perfect," Astreia said, dropping the final curl into place and stepping back to admire her handiwork. "I've always thought you were lovely to look upon, but seeing you like this makes me regret my offer to share."

Black lashes fluttered over violet eyes as the girl in the mirror turned her lips into a teasing smile. "I thought we were sharing the prince."

"Perspective. I prefer to think he would be sharing you with me," Astreia replied. She picked a gown from the pile on the bed and spun toward me. Her hand moved along the ruby satin so sensually I almost looked away. "Here. This will do."

"He's never going to fall for this," I insisted even as I stepped into the dress. A sigh fell from my lips as she drew it up my body. Never again would I be able to pull on my woolen shift and skirts without envy.

"The man would have you if you crawled into his bed wearing rags."

"That," I hissed, jerking the gown away from my friend, "Is not part of this plan. I still don't see how this will not cause suspicion."

Astreia changed into an equally alluring gown of sapphire blue and filled me in on the rest of her scheme. Arms locked together, we swept through the palace without stopping to speak to anyone. I went over the plan in my mind, looking for holes and finding far more than I was comfortable with.

I understood the seduction portion of the plan—even if I didn't like it. It was the part she wouldn't share with me that left me concerned. Whenever I would ask how word would not get back to the king we'd been in the prison when the girl went missing, the princess just pressed her lips together in a patronizing smile and said nothing.

"It will be fine," she promised, sounding less sure now that we were walking down the dripping stone corridor leading to the prison cells.

This was not a place that bolstered confidence. Even the torches struggled to burn in the stale, humid air, and with every step, the shadows threatened to consume us.

"Oh gods," Astreia gagged, throwing her hand over her mouth and nose as a fetid stench overwhelmed the scent of pitch and sulfur.

My reaction wasn't so dramatic. Spending portions of my life cleaning up after spoiled men exposed me to worse smells, though not by much, and it was always the worst when you were caught unaware. This was a combination of unwashed bodies, vomit, and excrement—a combination not uncommon after the Mid-Summer Revelry Queen Thera hosted every year, but there was a fouler odor beneath it all. One I could only identify as terror.

"This is what we would leave her to," Astreia said, finding her resolve once more as she raised a lace swathed hand to knock on the door.

"And we will join her if we're not careful," I bit out before the door swung open.

We made eye contact with the guard, and I swallowed hard. There was no going back now.


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