Wyneth had never before seen the underground tunnels. In fact, until yesterday she’d thought they were a fable. Indeed, that if there’d ever been actual tunnels, they’d long since collapsed. Now it was a single shaft. After spending nearly twenty-four hours stuck in the underground room with her family, a handful of guards, and Lord Alvi, she hoped she’d never see the fabled room again.
“How much longer must we wait?” Lady Wavecrest demanded of the guards.
“Until we receive communication from aboveground that all is safe,” the guard told her again. But even he sounded doubtful at this point.
None of them had slept well on the military bedrolls. Wyneth felt everyone’s nerves stretched taut and wondered who would be first to break. Most likely one of the lords: her hotheaded father or uncle, or Lief. As for Wyneth, she’d lain awake wondering about Vixie, who couldn’t be found during the chaotic roundup.
Lord Alvi’s knee bounced up and down from his spot on the bench. His arms were crossed and his face was as etched with unhappiness as it had been the moment they had gotten down there. He had only meant to help Wyneth and her family into safety, and then he’d expected to be let back up to join the fight.
Wyneth had never seen a person as angry as Lord Alvi when he’d been told he would have to remain below or risk giving away their hiding place.
Over and over, Wyneth ran through yesterday’s events. She had gone straight to the library after speaking with Lord Alvi, Tiern, and Vixie. The nearest guard had swept Wyneth down the hall. It was as if some well-rehearsed plan of action had been put into place. The entire royal family converged, brought by guards and flanked by Lord Alvi, on a small cupboard room beyond the cellar. Once inside, a panel was lifted from the bottom of a large chest, and down the musty tunnel they went.
“Where is Princess Vixie?” one guard had asked as soon as they were to safety.
“In the kitchens!” Wyneth had been unnerved at the thought of Vixie caught in the fighting. The panic rose again now because Vixie was never brought to the shelter, nor was Tiern. All they knew was that fighting had broken out in the king’s office, where he and Queen Leighlane met with the Kalorians.
Thankfully the shelter room had been well stocked with food, water, and toys for the children. Wyneth imagined the toys had been Leighlane’s touch.
Lord Alvi stood and paced again. He said grumpily, “Perhaps the reason no one has come for us is because they’re all dead.”
“We are following protocol—”
“Ach!” Lord Alvi waved the guard’s words away and crossed his arms tightly.
Wyneth’s youngest cousin, Merity, let out a whining howl from her place on the floor.
“What is the matter now?” her mother called. Lady Baycreek had long since lost patience, accustomed to having maids to help with the children.
“She’s trying to take my doll!” her older sister, Caileen, cried.
Lady Baycreek put her face in her hands.
“Here.” Wyneth came over to the girls and squatted. “Shall I draw something for you? How about I draw each of you as an animal?”
“Me first!” Caileen yelled. Merity fell over and set to crying. Wyneth pursed her lips.
“You cuddle your doll, Caileen, and I shall draw Merity first. Then you.”
She thanked the seas for her mother’s forethought to grab their outing bag with drawing utensils and a bound notebook, along with playing cards and other games to entertain the children.
Merity sat up with puffy eyes and even poofier red hair, and gave Wyneth a watery smile. “Can you make me be a dolphin, Wynnie?”
“Of course. And what a darling dolphin you shall be.” Wyneth lost herself in doodling, not noticing as the children crowded around, even the older lads. When she was finished they all laughed and remarked on the silliness of a dolphin with red hair, swimming in a sea of flower-strewn water.
“Now me!” Caileen said excitedly. She shoved the doll into Merity’s arms. “Make me a bird!”
“Only if you ask nicely . . .” Wyneth smiled.
“Please, make me a bird?”
“Actually . . .” Wyneth raised her eyes to Lord Alvi, who had moved to stand just over her shoulder. “I know someone who can draw a birdie even better than I.” She looked around at the children and they stared back in wonder.
“Who?” Cousin Leo asked. “Not me or my family.”
Wyneth glanced up at Lord Alvi again and held back a laugh at the look of No, no, no! on his tight face.
“Lord Alvi, is it?” Leo exclaimed. “Can you draw, sir?”
“Oh, come now,” he said with a dark chuckle. “I’m . . . busy.”
“Busy brooding,” remarked Wyneth’s twelve-year-old brother Brixton. At that Wyneth barked a laugh and the other children did as well.
Lord Alvi dropped his arms and actually gave a grin. “I never brood.”
Wyneth grasped him by the wrist and tugged him down. He sighed dramatically and took the notebook that she pressed to his chest. He spared her one last threatening glare before looking around at the waiting faces.
“All right, then. Who is to be the bird? Is it you, Donubhan? A hummingbird?”
“No, sir! I am to be a killer whale!”
“It’s me!” Caileen raised her hand, beaming.
“Ah, yes, it is Lady Caileen. I remember now.” He examined the freckled little beauty for a moment before setting to drawing. Raucous laughter ensued as Lord Alvi depicted the girl, covered in red curly feathers, eyes crazed with mischief—even Lady Wavecrest and Lady Baycreek had taken peeks and giggled behind their hands—until the rusty-hinged door to the room creaked and flew open. Lord Alvi dropped the drawing book and stood.
A pale guard peered around the room with a frown. “It is secure for you to come up, but . . .” He swallowed and his forehead gleamed with sweat. “The king, queen, and Princess Vixie are all missing. We’re scouring towns now.”
Seas, no! Wyneth pressed a palm to the floor and her other hand over her forehead as the room spun. Adults shouted questions and children burst into tears.
“Mum!” Donubhan’s voice nearly shattered Wyneth. She pushed through the other kids and wrapped her arms around him.
“Sh, Donnie, it will be all right.” She pressed her cheek to his head as his body heaved in sobs. “They’ll be found.”
Please, let them be found.
“Hush!” Lord Wavecrest shouted. “I cannot hear the man!” Wyneth grabbed the crying Merity and pulled her into her embrace to shush her. Then all eyes went back to the guard.
“It was a Lashed attack. We believe all the Kalorians who came were Lashed. They were checked at the gate, but nobody saw any lines. We think they used a paint of some sort. Ten guards were killed plus four of the Kalorians. They must have somehow subdued the king and queen to change their clothing—we’re not certain—but when they came out of the office and attacked, they broke into two groups and went in opposite directions.” The guard grimaced. “They knew the castle better than any guest should.”
“The traitor gave them more information,” Lord Baycreek whispered.
“Aye. And they had more people lying in wait outside. A whole caravan they pretended were their maids and servants. They were all trained. The caravan fled up the path to the royal gate, but our soldiers said they saw a group of them taking the king and queen to the docks, so we set off after them, prepared to capture their vessel.” He shook his head. The room was silent as they clung to every word.
“Their boat was a decoy,” he said. “A distraction. And when we seized their boat, the five aboard laid hands on one another in a circle, and they all just fell . . . dead.”
Now Caileen let out a frightened wail, and Wyneth pulled her in with Donnie and Merity.
Lord Alvi must have heard enough. He pushed past the guard and climbed up the ladder. Nobody stopped him. The guard moved aside and motioned for the others to follow, but Lord and Lady Baycreek and Lord and Lady Wavecrest all turned to one another instead.
“The castle has been compromised,” Lord Wavecrest said. “I think we should retreat to somewhere safer and more remote while the army searches.”
Lord Baycreek nodded. “The Isle of Evie?” Lord Wavecrest returned the nod.
Wyneth watched the exchange with mixed feelings. They wanted to flee to the royal vacation island. It made sense as far as the safety of the children went, but Wyneth would go mad that far away right now. The island was chosen for its natural barriers: cliffs and a magnificently rugged landscape. A nearly impenetrable villa had been built atop the cliffs, and it would be easier to thwart an attack there than in the royal lands. But she knew she could not go.
Wyneth said nothing, not wanting to upset the children again, but when the time came for them to leave, she would state her case. She was of age to make her own decisions now. Aerity was set to return within days, if all went well. She was certain that the remaining army would not be allowing visitors of any kind into royal lands, and the naval guard was likely to secure the port with heavier measures now that a threat was apparent. She felt safe enough.
She kissed the heads of her cousins and stood. “Come along now, little lassies. Let’s all pack our favorite things and set off on a grand adventure.”
This seemed to raise their spirits. The little ones trooped after their mothers, anxious to leave the musty room. The four oldest boys—her brothers Bowen and Brixton, and her cousins Donubhan and Leo—stayed behind. Wyneth looked about at them, each with hair of varying shades and lengths of red, from radiant auburn to deep reddish-brown.
“Are we to run as cowards do?” Bowen asked.
“Bow, it’s not like that at all,” Wyneth insisted. “We’re royals, and it’s important that we keep ourselves safe so someone can run the kingdom.”
“I want to join the army and fight,” he said.
“Yeah!” said the other three.
“You’re fourteen!” she reminded Bowen. “They won’t consider any lads under seventeen—you know this. Pack your bows and arrows and practice while you’re at the Isle of Evie. If the island comes under attack, seas forbid, you can shoot arrows from the high turrets and you’ll need to be good shots.”
“Come along,” said a guard from the doorway. “We’re closing up.”
They did as he said, all inhaling deeply of the fresh air as they entered the tall castle hallways again. While the other three boys bounded off to prepare to leave, Donubhan lagged behind at Wyneth’s side. She turned to face him, clasping his shoulders. He was only inches from her own height, still far too young to deal with this. Her heart hurt knowing the lad was all alone, his entire family gone or missing. Where in Eurona were they?
“What if they’re not found?” he whispered. “What will happen to Lochlanach? And when is Aerity coming home? She needs to be here!”
Wyneth had never seen the carefree boy so serious. It was as if he were maturing before her very eyes. She pulled him forward and he let her, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly.
“They’ll be found,” she promised. “I just know it. And Aerity will be home soon. Go and enjoy your time on the Isle.”
It was a dangerous time to make promises she couldn’t keep, but Wyneth had to be hopeful, and so did Donnie. It would be the only thing to get them through.