Shield of Sparrows

The knocking on my front door wasn’t really a knock but a constant stream of taps.

“I’m coming!” I laughed as I walked out of my bedroom.

The knocking continued.

And with it, my day would begin. Just as it had every morning for the past week since I’d arrived in Ellder.

The moment I opened the door, my visitor streaked inside, racing into the sitting room to launch herself into a chair.

“Good morning, Evie.”

She giggled as she pushed her dark hair out of her face. “Want to play hide-and-seek?”

“After yesterday? Not even a little bit,” I said, closing the door.

The rules we’d established for the game should have been easy to follow. She was allowed to hide anywhere in my suite or her house while I counted to fifty. Except she’d changed the rules during our third game and snuck out to the gardens to play with a litter of baby kittens. I’d spent nearly an hour searching for her, turning this place inside out. Then I’d had a panic attack because I’d lost Zavier’s child.noveldrama

When I’d frantically told Luella that I’d lost Evangeline, she’d frowned and helped me search. We’d found her ten minutes later, sitting between the rows of carrots with five balls of white-and-gray fur.

I was never playing hide-and-seek again.

“Then what are we going to do?” She kicked her legs, her boots smacking against the chair’s side.

“What if we explored?”

She sat up straighter. “Explore where?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Ellder. Maybe you could show me around.”

I’d spent a week hiding from the world, either in this suite or Zavier’s rooms on the first floor. Hiding.

And punishing myself.

For Ashmore. For abandoning Brielle and Jocelyn. For the Guardian.

Each morning, Evie would come to visit. The first day, Luella had joined her to say hello. After Evie had invited herself inside the suite, she’d also invited me to become her newest playtime companion.

Luella didn’t seem to mind having a few hours to herself each morning, and I’d needed Evie’s knocking like I’d needed Arthy’s hugs when I lived in Roslo. She was filling the hole in my heart, the place where I’d always kept family.

This girl’s smile had become the best part of my day.

Returning her to Luella for lunch and afternoon lessons was the worst.

With nothing else to do, I’d slink upstairs to the suite. I’d read Cathlin’s book, practice with my knives, and sketch my version of a Turan map in my journal. When I was finished, I’d stare at the ceiling and dwell on my mistakes.

The pity party was over. I wasn’t quite sure where I fit in yet at the fortress. It was time to find out—I had a feeling I’d be in Ellder for a while.

“Let’s go.” Evie jumped off the chair and ran for the door, snagging my hand as she passed. Then she pulled me outside to the walkway, leading me to the staircase.

It had been too dark the night the Guardian brought me here to appreciate the size of Zavier’s house. It took up nearly an entire block. Most of the home was allocated to Evangeline and Luella. But it also included kitchens, laundry, and quarters for Evie’s nanny and the other staff.

My suite upstairs was more room than I needed. I had the sitting room and a dining area. There was my bedroom, plus a spare. There was even a washroom, complete with a pitcher pump to fill the tub. The water wasn’t hot, but I’d add a few boiling kettles and it was divine.

But my favorite part of this suite was the private balcony. From my perch on the second floor, I could see to the main road that split Ellder down the middle, and I’d watch people come and go.

There was a bakery across the street, and the owner brought his wife fresh flowers from the center market every morning. A teenage girl worked at a corner café, and so far, she seemed to be the only person who noticed me watching. If she saw me sitting outside, she’d give me a tiny wave—I’d wave back.

Every other afternoon, a young man carried a stack of papers from building to building. Ellder did have a paperman. He printed only fortress news, but when the paper arrived at my doorstep, I devoured every word.

Soldiers wandered up and down the streets, nodding and greeting those they passed on their way to and from the courtyard. From what I could tell, their shifts at the wall changed three times a day.

Each day, more wooden spikes were installed along the streets, their tips pointed and sharp.

Ellder was home to merchants and traders. Teachers and nurses. Families with children of all ages. And that massive wall and its soldiers kept them all safe.

It kept Evie safe.

From everything but trouble of her own making.

Five days ago, she’d escaped Luella’s watchful eyes and snuck to the house kitchen, where she’d stolen a handful of tarts to eat instead of her regular lunch. She’d gotten sick all over her bed.

The day after that, she’d “accidentally” painted flowers on her armoire. The day after that, she’d “borrowed” a tin of rouge from Luella’s vanity and smudged it all over her cheeks.

I’d never fallen in love with a person so fast.

It made the sting of being dumped here hurt a little less.

She’d been dumped here, too.

Zavier had left Ellder not long after relocating his daughter here from Treow. And the Guardian had left the same night he’d delivered me to my suite.

“Should we tell Luella that we’re going to explore?” I waved to the carved front door.

“She’s not in there. She made me promise to stay with you until she was done in the dungeons.”

“Uh…Ellder has dungeons?” Why would Luella be visiting dungeons?

In Quentis, criminals were kept in a camp close to the Evon Ravine, though there were cells at the barracks where Banner’s soldiers could keep them before they were transported to the camp.

I guess in Turah, criminals were kept in fortress dungeons.

“Yes, and they’re creepy.” Evie’s face lit up. “Let’s go there.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Her smile morphed into a pout. It was adorable. Too adorable. She wielded that pout like a sword. “There’s all these books and scrolls and weird stuff. Luella calls them trinkets.”

“Wait. There are books in the dungeons?”

“Yep.” She nodded, pulling me closer so she could whisper in my ear. “She doesn’t know that I know about it, but I do.”

Luella must be hiding them so that Ramsey’s soldiers couldn’t burn her books.

“Show me.”

“Yes!” Evie pumped an arm in the air, then tore off down the street.

“Hey, wait up.” I laughed, jogging to keep up as she ran for the main road.

Evangeline checked over her shoulder every now and again, making sure I was still behind her. Each time, her smile would widen, her bright eyes sparkling, the blue starbursts as bold as the sky above. Blue, the eye color from Ozarth’s land.

Why would Zavier, a crown prince, not ensure his child was born on Turan soil so she’d have green starbursts? Maybe her mother had insisted she be born in Ozarth.

If—when—Zavier and I had children someday, how would Evie fit into the mix? Zavier didn’t want her to be a part of royal life. But at some point, we’d be expected to produce an heir. Was he going to hide all of his children?

Or just his daughters?

It felt like there was a set of scales in my mind, on one side questions, the other answers. The question side was so heavy that they were spilling over. The answer side was all but empty.

And I had a hunch I wasn’t going to learn much locked away in this fortress.

As Cathlin had promised, Ellder was built against the mountains. Cliffs rose up before us in sheets of smooth, gray rock. It reminded me of the second campsite, where we’d slept on the dirt and nearly been attacked by a grizzur.

It might be possible to scale the cliffs, to climb out of Ellder, but I certainly had no desire to try. A fall from those rocks would mean a quick death.

I hadn’t tried to leave through the front gate. I doubted the guards would let me.

Maybe these dungeons would prove useful.

Evie slowed to a walk, waiting until I caught up. Then she took my hand, holding it as we walked down the center of the main road, taking in buildings and homes and the trees and small gardens planted in between.

The barracks started in the heart of Ellder, about halfway from the mountains to the fortress’s wall. The units were simple cabins arranged in neat, uniform rows. If they were anything like the barracks for Banner’s soldiers in Quentis, they wouldn’t be more than a bedroom and bath. Meals were likely served in a communal hall for the soldiers.

Evie led me all the way to the mountain, then turned and walked along the cliffs, her other hand constantly reaching out to tickle the rocks.

Ahead, the timber wall met stone. The logs seemed to have been carved and molded to fit the surface, not leaving so much as a gap to squeeze through, making the only way in and out of Ellder the monitored gates.

Evie slowed, and for a moment, I thought maybe she’d gotten lost. But then an opening in the rock appeared, its angle such that unless you were standing right in front of it, you’d never know it was here.

“The dungeons are a cave?” I asked her.

“Yes. I told you it was creepy.” She ducked inside without any hesitation, so I followed her into the darkness, giving my eyes a moment to adjust. “Come on, Dess.”

She slipped her hand in mine, holding tight.

A few nights ago, Luella had invited me to eat dinner with them in the main house, and Evie had talked through the entire meal, only eating when Luella would remind her that her flatbread and chicken were getting cold.

She’d asked if I had a nickname, and so I’d given her the name Father used sparingly. Evie hadn’t called me anything but Dess since.

We walked along the slanting floor, descending deeper through the tunnel. The rocks were smooth, the occasional step dropping us lower. The ceiling was taller than I’d imagined, farther up than I could reach, even on the tips of my toes. The light from outside was fading too fast.

“Evie, maybe we should turn back before it’s too dark.”

“No, keep going.”

No sooner than she’d insisted, an orange glow flickered ahead. It grew and grew until we passed a lantern hung from a hook in the wall. Beside it was an empty cell. Its iron bars were secured in the rock but the door was open and unlocked.

Dungeons without prisoners.

“The bad guys go to the jail by the side gate,” she said, reading my thoughts. “I can’t go there.”

“No, you cannot.”

“This is Luella’s secret spot now.” She lowered her voice, like she was afraid of being caught by her governess. “It’s where she hides her special books.”

My heart leaped. And what, exactly, was in those special books? Hopefully more than just readers and lesson books for Evie.

The tunnels were damp, trickling water tinkling in the distance. Not exactly where I’d choose to keep books, but it was the last place I’d think to look for any if I were a soldier charged with burning books on the king’s order.

We kept walking, moving from one lantern’s glow to the next, until Evie pressed a finger to her lips and began to tiptoe. At the next cell we came to, she slowed, pointing past the bars.

There were no shelves inside, just stacks of books with objects piled on top. There were carved figurines of the gods. Medallions with various emblems. Trinkets, as Evie had promised.

Her hand clasped around my thumb as she pulled me forward to the next cell. Like the last, there were no shelves, but an empty cot was pushed against the back wall, and on its surface were piles of rolled scrolls.

Please let one of those be a map.

I’d need a day to go through them all. I’d have to come back without Evie. When Luella wasn’t here. But for the first time in a week, a spark of hope burned to life.

Maybe there was a chance at finding information after all, even if I was trapped behind Ellder’s walls.

Evie kept pulling, and I kept following past three more cells, these all empty. There were puddles of water on the floor formed from the weeping rock.

The tunnel continued on, cell after cell, except before we could continue, a throat cleared.

Evie and I both gasped as we spun around, finding a woman at our backs.

“What are you doing here, Evangeline?” Luella asked. “You said you were playing hide-and-seek with Odessa.”

“It’s my fault,” I said. “I wanted to explore Ellder a bit today. I’m sorry.”

“And you chose the dungeons?” Luella could give Margot a run for her money on withering looks.

Evie’s frame slumped. “Sorry.”

Luella shook her head but let out an exasperated laugh. “How long have you known about the dungeons?”

Evie shrugged. “I dunno.”

“I suppose I should have expected you to follow me here eventually.”

“Does that mean I’m in trouble?” Evie asked. “Or not in trouble?”

“Not in trouble.” Luella crouched in front of her, tucking a lock of dark hair behind the girl’s ear. “But I don’t want you coming here without an adult. Understood?”

“Understood.” Evie gave her a sure nod. “Can we keep exploring?”

“Oh, I love exploring.” The woman’s voice that came from behind Luella was familiar.

“Cathlin.” I smiled as she walked our way, her chestnut eyes dancing in the lantern’s light.

“Hello, my dear.” She hugged me tight, then bent to drop a kiss on Evie’s hair. “My darling. Have you been tormenting Luella today?”

“No more than usual.” Luella stood, giving Cathlin a once-over, head to toe. Relief softened her gaze when she saw the librarian was unscathed.

“I have a few additions to your collection.” Cathlin opened the satchel hung over her shoulder, pulling out three leather-bound books. She handed them to Luella, then gave her a quick hug. “Hello, my friend.”

“Hello,” Luella said. “I’m glad you’re here and safe. I heard about Ashmore. Besides the attack, how did it go?”

She must mean with Cathlin’s lover?

“I’ll tell you about it later.” Cathlin put her hand on my shoulder. “Did you read that book I gave you?”

“I did. Thank you. It was incredibly helpful.”

Some of the Turan customs the book described, I’d learned about in my time here. The various leathers taken from monsters to use in crafting armor or clothing. The way encampments and towns were built into natural barriers for protection. The pony riders who delivered the post.

But otherwise, the book had been a wealth of knowledge. I’d known that the Turan economy depended on lumber production, but I hadn’t realized that their blacksmiths and forges were some of the best across Calandra. The raw metal they imported across the border they shared with Ozarth wasn’t only used for weapons, but for tools like axes and saw blades. They were excellent horsemen, learning to ride at an early age. Young adults often went on hunts when they came of age, killing a bariwolf or tarkin as a rite of passage. And the women were trained, like the men, to fight and use weapons, too.

“If you’ve finished that book, let’s find you others.” Cathlin waved me into a nearby cell, bending at the waist as she ran her fingers over spines.

By the time we left that cell and the next, I had a stack of five books to read. She’d picked a few on Calandran history. Another on the animals and monsters in Turah. And a book on the crux and what we knew about their migrations.

It was the thinnest of the five.

“One more,” Cathlin said, plucking a red book from the shelf with a matching leather strap wrapped around its cover. “This one is full of old myths and legends. And it has my favorite myth of all.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“It’s about a woman named Sora who sailed across the horizon. She was gone for a hundred years, but when she returned to Calandra, she brought with her creatures and animals our realm had never seen. Some believe that is where our monsters came from. Not the new gods, but a god we’ve never known. A god more powerful than any other. It always made me wonder. What other stories are out there? What if some are true? What if we’ve burned too many books?”

I had the overwhelming urge to sign the Eight.

It was just a story, but a twang of fear pinched at my ribs, like this was not a topic we should be discussing. Like we were courting disfavor with the gods.

Part of me wanted to leave this book behind, to skip it altogether. The other wondered what else it might contain.

Was there a story in this book about the Chain of Sevens? Was that how the Turans had known they could claim a bride prize? Had Zavier read this book?

“You’ll love it. It’s a favorite.” Cathlin looked at the stack she’d pulled for me and gave an exaggerated frown. “I might have gotten carried away. The king hasn’t discovered this hideaway yet. I’m certain when he does, all of these will go. It feels urgent, in a way, to absorb it all while we have the chance.”

“Why is he burning books?” I asked.

“Odessa?” Luella appeared at my side, her hand resting softly on my wrist. “Would you mind escorting Evie to the house? She’s loaded her pockets with trinkets to put in her room. I’m afraid if she stays any longer, we won’t be able to cart it all back. I’ll blow out the lanterns and be right behind you.”

So much for getting a straight answer on why King Ramsey was burning books.

“Of course.” I smiled at both women, then retreated down the tunnel in search of Evangeline, finding her in the cell with the scrolls.

The pockets of her simple dress were stuffed. She stood at the bars, a finger to her lips as she pointed down the hall at Luella.

This girl. She was a better spy than I’d ever be.

I slipped into the stall, pressing my back against the wall beside her. Then I listened to the whispering voices that carried farther than their owners must have realized.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Luella hissed.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Cathlin. I’ve known you my entire life. You’re up to something.”

“They’re books, Lu. I’m giving that poor girl something to read. That’s all.”

“That’s all? She’s the last person who should be here,” Luella snarled. “I should have known Evie would follow me. That girl.”

“She’s too much like her mother,” Cathlin said.

Luella sighed. “If he finds out, there will be hell to pay. And I’ve paid enough.”

He. Did she mean Ramsey? Or Zavier? Would Luella be punished if Zavier learned his daughter had been down here?

Their voices dropped too low to make out the rest of their conversation.

Evie must have realized our eavesdropping was over, too, because she grabbed my free hand and led me out of the cell.

We walked out of the tunnels and into daylight, but I might as well have stayed in the dark. That’s where I seemed to be stuck these days.

Constantly questioning. Constantly guessing. About the king and these books. About Zavier and the Guardian. About Lyssa and the “sick” monsters.

At the cave’s entrance, Evie peered past the rock outcropping, making sure we were alone. Then she darted to the nearest row of barracks, settling into an easy pace like we were just out for a morning stroll.

Yep, she was a tiny spy.

“Want to play with the kittens?” she asked when we’d made our way back to my suite to drop off the books.

“What about your lessons?”

She stuck out her tongue.

Well, Luella wasn’t here, so why not? “Kittens it is.”

“Okay,” she said brightly.

The girl was only four, and she could read and write. Zavier might not want her to be a princess, but he was preparing her for it nonetheless. Mae and I’d had the same rigid structure with lessons when we were her age.

When we made it to the garden, Evie went straight to the pen where the kittens were napping. She gave them each a snuggle, then plopped on the ground and started taking trinkets from her pockets.

“This is Ferious.” The golden figurine of the God of Mischief’s head glinted in the sun. “He’s my favorite god.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” I muttered. “You’re not supposed to have a favorite god.”

She shrugged and kissed the figurine’s bald head. “That’s what Papa says.”

“And maybe someday, you’ll listen to me.” The baritone voice startled us both.

“Papa?” Evie’s attention flew to the doorway where Zavier stood, a smile on his lips. “Papa!”

She nearly tripped as she ran for him, but he caught her before she could crash, sweeping her into a hug as she wrapped herself around his body.

“I’ve missed you.” He kissed her hair, cradling her to his chest. “Hello, Odessa.”

“Hello, Zavier.”

I should have been glad to see my husband, to know he was here and safe, except there was a sinking feeling in my stomach. A wave of self-loathing. I wished I was excited to see Zavier. But I wasn’t.

No, I was longing to see another man.

And I hated myself for missing the Guardian.

I joined them at the door, ready to see myself out. “I’ll leave you alone.”

But Zavier stopped me with a sideways glance. “Your hair is different.”

“Oh, um…”

“It’s red.” Evie declared the obvious, and before I could explain, she did it for me. “She had to dye it. All the time, too, because Margot—that’s her stepmother—said the brown was better suited for her coloring, but I think Margot is wrong and the red is a lot prettier. Especially with her eyes. Aren’t they bright? You can’t even see her starbursts.”

I didn’t have a starburst, but when Evie had assumed mine was simply disguised, I hadn’t made the correction. I didn’t want to explain that I was different. I wouldn’t have answers for her inevitable questions.

Zavier smiled at his daughter. “I think the red is prettier, too. Sounds like you both have been getting to know each other?”

“We have.” I winked at Evie. “You have a very curious, very lovely daughter.”

“Yes, I do.” He kissed her forehead, then studied her face. “You’ve changed since I’ve been away. You’ve grown three more freckles.”

“Five,” she corrected.

He hummed. “I suppose I’ll need to do a thorough count.”

Evie beamed, running her hands over his face, like she wanted to make sure he was really here. “Want to see the kittens?”

“I would love nothing more.” Zavier touched my arm before I could leave. “Join us for dinner tonight?”

“Of course.” I waved to Evie, then weaved through the house, making my way out the front door and upstairs.

Those books wouldn’t read themselves.

Except when I reached the walkway on the second floor, my feet stopped.

The Guardian stood outside my door, casually leaning against the wall.

His eyes were emerald green. His hair was damp at the ends and in need of a trim. His clothes were clean, and if he’d found any trouble, he’d washed it away. Along with his beard. His face was clean-shaven, and I’d never seen such a chiseled jaw, the corners as sharp as my knives.

Gods, he looked gorgeous. With or without the beard, I didn’t care. He was here, and he was safe. He might be the Guardian, but that didn’t stop me from worrying.

“Hi.” My voice, damn it, was too breathy.

He pushed off the building, walking closer as he tossed a sheathed sword my way.

I went to catch it, but it slipped out of my fingers and clattered at my feet. “Oops.”

He cast his eyes skyward. “Oda, save me.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were going to throw it at me.” I picked it up, letting my hair cover the blush of my cheeks. “What is this for?”

“My queen demanded a sword.”

So he’d brought me one. He hadn’t forgotten.

He walked past me, his arm brushing mine. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” I asked, even as I spun to follow him down the stairs.

“Someone has to train you to use it.”

The idea of training shouldn’t have given me butterflies.

But they fluttered in my belly regardless, even when they shouldn’t.