Thornwood by Leah Cypess (best value ebook reader TXT) 📗

“No! Please! Someone!” I jerked my head sideways, tearing clumps of hair loose in a burst of pain. It didn’t help. The Thornwood dragged me toward its hungry branches, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I couldn’t even slow it down.

I braced both hands on the windowsill, trying to keep myself inside. Another branch shot over the stone and dug its thorns into my other wrist.

Then someone grabbed me from behind and pulled.

This did nothing except send new agony shooting through my arms, but at least I knew someone was trying to save me. It must be Varian, I thought. He is a hero; I’ll never doubt it again. I let out a high-pitched sob, just as the person gave up on pulling me free and dashed beside me instead.

It was the kitchen boy.

My relief vanished instantly; he wasn’t going to be able to save me. I drew in my breath for another scream just as the kitchen boy raised both arms over his head, and I saw that he was holding a sword. He brought it down on the windowsill, two inches from my fingers, and sliced the branches in half.

They hissed as if they had been burned. The boy raised the blade again, its point tilting and wobbling—the sword was clearly too heavy for him—and brought it down with less force this time. It barely dented the branch that was tangled in my hair.

The branch withdrew anyway, in one swift jerk, taking a chunk of hair and what felt like half my scalp with it.

I stumbled from the window. One heel hit something and I fell on my backside with a thump and continued scrabbling away. The kitchen boy followed, dragging the sword clumsily with him. It cut an ugly, uneven gash in the rug.

On the other side of the window, the Thornwood was dark, stirring occasionally as if because of wind.

A gnarled chunk was still attached to one of my wrists. I pulled it free, ignoring the pain as the thorns came out, and threw it at the window. It landed next to a tangle of dead branches, which was what I had tripped over. Several bright red spots of blood welled from my skin where the thorns had dug in.

“What just happened?” the kitchen boy gasped.

His hands were clenched around the hilt of a huge sword decorated with elaborate gold designs and set with a brilliant blue gem that must have been a sapphire.

“I don’t know,” I said. “What is that?”

“It’s the prince’s sword.”

“What? The prince lost his sword in the Thornwood!”

“No, he didn’t,” the kitchen boy said. “He hid it here in the castle. Before he went into the princess’s—your sister’s—room, he stashed the sword behind a statue.”

The branches wrapped themselves around my blade and wrested it from me, Varian had said. Why would he lie about that?

“I saw him do it,” the kitchen boy said, “and after I left the kitchen, I decided I should have told you. I went to get the sword, and then came to get you—one of the chambermaids saw you headed down the servants’ passage. When I heard you scream, I ran toward you, and…well…”

“You saved my life,” I finished. “Thank you.”

His face turned red. “It is, um, it is my honor to serve you, my lady. I mean, Your Highness.”

“My name is Briony,” I said. “What’s yours?”

“Edwin.”

“Well, Edwin, you have my…uh, my eternal gratitude.” That didn’t seem like enough. “Once we get out of the castle, I’ll also give you lots of jewels and make you rich.” Would my parents let me do that? And did we even have jewels? I knew from eavesdropping that the royal treasury was in trouble. It had been ever since my father had outlawed spinning wheels. We’d been importing all our yarn for sixteen years, and it didn’t come cheap.

I squatted and peered carefully at the jewel in the sword hilt. Yup. Definitely a sapphire.

“Although,” I said, “you could get rich just by selling this sword. You know that, don’t you?”

“Sure,” Edwin said. “Eventually. While we’re in the castle, though, I thought it might come in handy for rescuing princesses.”

I straightened and stared at him.

“Or,” I said, “it might come in handy for getting us out of this castle. If we have the sword, we can cut through the Thornwood!”

My voice went too high, and ended on a quaver. Edwin looked at me carefully. I tensed, waiting for him to say something stupid. Like Don’t be afraid.

“We can’t do it ourselves,” he said. “This thing is so heavy I’m not sure I could swing it again. We need a trained swordsman.”

“We’re in a castle,” I said. “It’s full of trained swordsmen, all sworn to protect the king and queen. Once we find my parents and explain…”

Edwin raised one eyebrow. It was the one that still had flour dusted on it. “Can we put the sword back in its hiding place first? It’s a bit awkward to be dragging around. And I’d rather the prince not find out that a commoner took his sword.”

The prince, apparently, had hidden the sword in a cobweb-covered nook half-hidden by a stone statue of a mermaid. Together, Edwin and I managed to lower the blade behind the statue. When we dropped it, it hit the end of the mermaid’s tail with a clang that echoed through the hall. I winced.

“Don’t worry,” Edwin said. “If no one heard you screaming earlier, they’re not going to hear that. The walls in this castle must be really thick.”

I peered behind the mermaid to make sure the sword was stable, then stepped back. The mermaid’s nose was chipped, making her look like she was sneering at us.

Edwin cleared his throat. “You said you want to find your parents. But why don’t we get the prince to cut through the Thornwood first?”

“The prince,” I said, “told me that his sword got lost in the Thornwood.”

“I think he was lying.”

“Thank you. I got that on my own. But why