The Runaway King (The Ascendance Trilogy #2)

The Runaway King (The Ascendance Trilogy #2) Page 41

I held out my hand for Imogen’s knife, but before she gave it to me, the boy stopped very near us. “Whoever’s hiding there, come out,” he said.

I put a hand on Imogen’s shoulder, holding her down as I stood. Hopefully, he hadn’t seen us both. He held a sword in one hand, and the tip was aimed low. This boy wasn’t a swordsman.

He stepped even closer to me. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t ask about that.”

“There’s someone else with you.”

“I’d especially prefer if you didn’t ask me that.”

“Stand up,” the boy ordered.

Slowly, Imogen stood. I noticed she’d pulled her braid loose, obviously suggesting that we had snuck out here for romantic reasons.

The boy shook his head. “Nobody touches the girls. It’s part of the code.”

“Let it pass this once, will you?” He didn’t look convinced so I added, “We all make mistakes with the code. Maybe it’s girls. Maybe it’s failing to tie a prisoner’s knots correctly.”

His face fell. He obviously didn’t like being reminded that my intervention had saved him from a worse beating.

“I didn’t see you here,” he finally said. “But I’m not the only vigil so you’d better leave soon.”

“That’s definitely the plan,” I said.

Once he was gone, Imogen and I ran into the stables. Mystic was housed in a center stall, and with Imogen’s help, two minutes later he was saddled and ready to ride.

“Someone else is here,” she said, backing into the shadows.

I glanced up and saw Fink hop into the stables from the top of the fence. “It’s all right,” I said, motioning Imogen forward. “He’s leaving too.”

“It was harder than I thought to get here,” Fink said. “Sorry I’m late.” He stopped briefly when he saw Imogen. “What’s she doing here? I thought she hates you.”

If she didn’t now, she soon would. I helped Imogen onto Mystic’s back, and then gestured for Fink to move closer.

“We can’t take your horse,” Fink said.

“I’ll bet Mystic that you can,” I said. “He’s your horse now.”

“Then we’ll need a second horse for you,” Imogen said, looking around.

“No.” I shook my head firmly. “We don’t.”

“Mystic won’t carry the three of us.” Then Imogen’s hopeful expression deflated. “Oh no. No! That’s why you gave me the watch.”

“It’s for a noble in Libeth named Rulon Harlowe. Make sure he gets it.”

“We agreed not to stay here,” she said. “Please don’t play these games.”

My expression hardened, making it clear that this was no game. Then I handed her a letter, explaining the details of Gregor’s deception. “You must place this in Mott’s hand and no one else’s. Destroy it if there is the risk of anyone else touching it. I won’t be far behind.”

“No, you must come with us,” Imogen said, clutching the note.

I opened my hand, revealing the knife she had brought from the kitchens. She double-checked the pocket of her skirt where she had left it, despite the fact it was obviously not there. “Will you promise to leave now, or shall I give this to Fink, who will make sure you leave?”

Imogen pressed her lips together and stared forward. I handed Fink the rope Devlin had used to tie me up. “Tie her to you if necessary, but she does not leave your side until you’re both safe and far from this place.” Then I handed Fink the knife.

When Imogen did speak, the words were clipped and angry. “I planted the flowers for you, but they’re already dying. You know why? Because they’re in bad soil. They don’t belong here and neither do you. Go look at them and you’ll see your own future.”

Maybe that was my future, but I was finished arguing with her. I only led Mystic forward, saying, “Mott is at the church in Dichell. Fink, you must get her there. I want all three of you to get out of Avenia.”

“What about you?” Imogen asked.

“If I leave, I’ll meet you in Drylliad.”

“What do you mean if?”

I frowned at her, then slapped Mystic’s backside. Imogen turned back to look at me and said, “Jaron, please.” But they were already leaving.

As they rode away, I heard Fink ask, “Who’s Jaron?”

The clanging of an alarm bell broke through the early morning peace. I was already awake, as I had been all night. It was one week since I had left Drylliad, and too much had happened in that time. But nothing worried me like what the next few hours might bring. Obviously, Imogen’s absence had prompted the alarm.

Agor ran into our hut and yelled, “One of the serving girls is missing. We think she stole a horse.”

Erick stood beside his bed, looking around. “Fink is missing too — the boy who came with me.”

“It was your horse,” Agor said to me.

“It’s Fink’s horse now,” I said. “He won it last night in a bet. They can’t have gone far, perhaps just gathering berries in the woods.”

“Those places were checked already.” Agor’s eyes darkened. “Besides, they’d have still needed permission to leave. Devlin’s convinced they got scared and ran. But where?”

“Fink would go back to Dichell,” Erick said.

“But the serving girl wouldn’t want to go there,” I said. “Last time I talked to her she was very clear on that.”

“So far we can’t find anything missing other than the horse.” Agor called to everyone, “Get dressed. We’re going to make a thorough search of the camp.”

I began pulling my boots on. Erick already wore his and came to sit beside me.

“What do you think happened?” he asked. “Do you think Fink wanted to leave?”

“He didn’t belong here,” I said. “If he got away, you should be happy for him.”

“Yeah.” Disappointed, Erick clicked his tongue. “But I was getting used to having him underfoot.”

Once I was ready, we joined in the search around camp. It was an entirely useless act, not only because it was obvious they had left, but because so many of us had been ordered to look for them we nearly tripped over one another in the effort.

I’d gone first to the stables, ensuring nothing had been left behind to incriminate me. Then I traced each of our steps back as far as I could, but everything was clean. Eventually, Agor came to the only conclusion he could: Imogen and Fink had run away.

With that, the pirates began gathering to the tables for breakfast. Unfortunately, the serving girls had been questioned about Imogen all morning, so nothing was ready. Everyone was already irritable at having their morning taken up in a vain search for two people who really didn’t matter here anyway. Hunger wasn’t helping the situation.

I started down the hill toward the beach, putting myself as far as possible from everyone else. Time was running out and I needed a place to think.

“Someone’s coming!” a vigil yelled from up at the main part of camp. “The girl and the boy are back.”