The Queen's Assassin (The Queen's Secret #1)(33)

The sound of out-of-tune instruments playing disjointed songs floats into the dark hallway. “Good,” she says. “They’ll never hear us over all that racket.”

Curious girl, he thinks to himself. The way she’s taking charge, it’s almost as if she thinks she’s the one saving him. Entertaining as it is, he supposes she is sort of rescuing him, even if he could have overtaken the guards and been on his way out of Deersia on his own. But his orders were to wait. Regardless, he’s rather enjoying the charade.

They back up against the wall and inch toward the dining room. Cal nods at the swords leaning against the wall outside the entrance. Shadow nods in agreement. They will take them.

She studies the open doorway and closes her eyes for a moment. Then she opens them and urgently waves her hand down. They both crouch just as a guard walks into the hall. The man glances in their direction but doesn’t see anything amiss. He turns and heads the other way.

Shadow puts her hand over her heart and exhales softly. Cal’s not worried, though—amused is more like it.

They continue sliding along the wall until they get close to the door.

Now they just need to slip past the doorway without being noticed. Shadow gets down on her hands and knees and peeks into the room. Then, in a flash, she’s on the other side, grabbing a sword. Cal stays low and moves next to her, then chooses a blade for himself.

They move quickly through the hallway until they reach a side entrance off the kitchens. Cal’s about to open it but Shadow puts up a hand to stop him. He rolls his eyes and tries not to sigh. He can tell no one is there. He’d hear boots stomping. As he pushes the door open, she grabs his arm, for all of a sudden he’s face-to-face with the guard who’d left the dining hall earlier.

Without thinking, he drives his sword through the man’s stomach, then yanks it straight back out. The man’s exclamation gurgles in his throat, arms flailing wildly. Cal steps away as the man collapses.

Shadow’s breath hitches.

Cal walks through the doorway and continues on the path leading away from the building. He is clearly out of sorts from day after day of insufficient food and movement. If she hadn’t warned him, it might have been him lying crumpled on the floor with a sword through his belly, blank dead eyes wide-open in shock. He looks back. It won’t be long before someone finds the body. But they don’t have time to hide it.

He shakes off the thought, and they creep down the path toward the stables. Shadow leads them around the side. “The stable boys sleep in the loft, so try to stay quiet. We’ll take the horses closest to the door and head straight down the path to the main road. We should make it all the way to Alvilla before anyone notices.” The village is far enough away to make a safe haven.

He nods. They creep inside the barn, trying not to make any loud noises or sudden movements that would startle the horses.

They begin to saddle up when a whiny voice calls out from the far end of the loft. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” An angry blond boy is peering down at them over the loft rail.

“Luce,” Shadow snarls.

In the time it takes her to yell, “Go! Now!” Luce is already climbing down the ladder. He gets about halfway, then jumps the rest and chases after them.

Shadow has already mounted her horse and started for the lane leading to the gate, but Luce catches up to her and pulls on her leg.

Cal leaves his horse and runs after them, then tackles Luce to the ground. But the boy kicks him hard in the ribs and gets up first, so Cal grabs Luce’s ankle and twists his leg so hard that he slams to the hard-packed ground, belly-first. Cal gets to his feet; so does Luce. Both are covered in dirt from the stable floor. Cal is breathing heavily, annoyed at how winded he is; it should be easy to get rid of this snot-nosed stable boy. Then Shadow runs up, grabs Luce by the back of his shirt, and drags him away.

Luce turns to lunge at Shadow but misses.

“Go back to bed,” Cal calls to Luce. “I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

Luce laughs and turns back to Cal. “You’re gonna hang for this,” he says, then looks to his right and grabs a pitchfork from the wall. He aims it at Cal, walking toward him. “Be a shame if I impale you to the fence first, though. Deprive everyone of the public show—”

Luce is caught on the word. He rises a couple inches off the ground, feet dangling. Shadow has him by the back of his shirt. She grabbed and twisted the fabric so it’s choking him. “Should have gone back to bed,” she says. Luce drops the pitchfork and struggles to release the shirt from his neck.

Shadow walks a few feet, up to the fence, and tosses Luce over the side. There’s a squishy plop and splash as he lands in the pigsty.

Applause erupts from the loft. A row of faces is staring down at them, laughing.

“It’s not funny!” Luce yells, his voice cracking and hoarse, only making them laugh harder. He tries again: “Oy! Go get ’em!” One of the boys oinks in return. More follow, until a chorus of oinks and squeals bounces off the stable walls. They’re far more interested in the humiliation of their ringleader than the escaped prisoner—or they don’t want to end up in the pigsty alongside him.

Cal and Shadow get back on their horses. He tries to suppress a grin—he enjoyed watching her throw that kid into the slop. So this is what it’s like to be rescued. He could get used to this. He wonders what else she can do, but there’s no time. Her antics with the boy have drawn too much attention already. It won’t be long before the guards realize something is going on outside.