Heir of Amber and Fire by Rachanee Lumayno (non fiction books to read TXT) 📗

know she gave me a candle?” I asked, just as quietly. “You were ahead of me.”

She laughed softly. “Princess, we’ve been planning this for some time. The queen has her own set of spies in the palace, and she learned that the king was going to move forward with this marriage alliance. She came up with her own plan to protect you. I’m aware of every part of it. Including the part where your mother gave you a candle, since I would have my hands full.”

Even though Taryn couldn’t see me in the dark, I shook my head, annoyed at my obtuseness. Of course Taryn was aware of everything. Her efficiency and lack of surprise were obvious giveaways. And even if they weren’t, her intensity when she questioned me about my feelings toward Prince Anders should have tipped me off. While Taryn and I were close, more than most royalty would normally be with their servants, there were certain boundaries Taryn never crossed with me. Including personal probing questions.

I was about to give Taryn the candle when I realized I wasn’t holding it any longer. My right hand was still clasped around Taryn’s. My left hand was clenched around Mother’s letter only. No candle.

“Taryn, I’m sorry,” I whispered back. “I don’t have it anymore. I must have dropped it.”

Taryn’s voice held a tinge of dismay. “We need light, Princess. I’ve been guiding us so far by following the wall with my free hand, but I know the passageway forks up ahead and I need to be able to see which is the correct one to take. One of the corridors will take us outside, but the other doubles back into the castle and into the Great Hall.”

“We could turn around and look for it,” I suggested.

“No,” Taryn said. “We can’t waste any more time. There’s a very narrow window in which I can sneak you out before the guards change. We’ll just have to keep going and hope I pick the right passage.”

She started to move forward, but I stayed put. I felt a tug on my arm from Taryn. “Princess, please. We need to keep going.”

“Wait,” I said. Letting go of Taryn’s grasp, I held my hand in front of me, palm up. “Illumine.”

A small, cold light appeared above my outstretched palm. I looked up at Taryn — whose face I could now see — and smiled. The ball of light didn’t illuminate much, but the passageway was quite narrow. With my magical light, we would be able to see a few feet around us in any direction.

“You’ve come further in your studies than I thought,” she said, with an appreciative, answering grin.

“Conjuring lights is basic spell casting,” I said modestly, although I was pleased at the compliment.

“Still, considering you’ve only been studying magic for a year, I’m impressed,” she said. Shifting the dress and shoes she carried, she adjusted the pack on her back. She held out her hand for my mother’s letter. I wordlessly handed it over. She stuffed the papers in the pack and then turned to face the passageway again. “Come.”

Feeling a little guilty, I asked, “Do... do you want me to carry anything?” The thought would never have occurred to me before tonight, but the situation we were in was anything but typical.

Taryn shook her head as she started walking. I hurried after her. “You’ll be carrying this pack soon enough, Princess,” she said wryly. “And for longer than you like.”

After that we didn’t talk much. My world narrowed down to focusing on Taryn’s back and making sure I put one foot in front of the other, endlessly. I didn’t want to think about what I was leaving behind, or what might be happening to Mother. I hoped she was safe.

When we came to where the passageway branched off, Taryn chose the left without hesitation. I understood why she would have been unsure without being able to see where she was going. The left branch was unobtrusive; it would have been easy to miss in the dark.

We didn’t walk too far when Taryn stopped again at a blank stone wall. She felt along the wall, squinting in the dim light for something. Once she found what she was looking for, she nodded in satisfaction. She flipped a latch and, to my surprise, the wall popped open slightly. It was a hidden door, so skillfully made it blended into the castle facade.

Taryn turned to me. “We need to get you changed into something less conspicuous.”

Nodding, I untethered the ball of light so it hung in the air just above our heads. Taryn helped me out of the heavy red gown and into the plain dress she had been carrying. I exchanged my fancy slippers for the sturdier, more practical leather boots. Taryn also undid my hair, pulling out the pins so it flowed freely down my back.

“I’ve packed a comb and ribbons for you, but it’s not worth going through your pack to find them,” Taryn said quietly. “But fortunately, it’s dark enough out — and I have one more thing to disguise you.” She bundled up my finery in her arms and put her hand on the unlatched door. “Your Highness, please distinguish your light.”

I swallowed my instinctive question and instead held my hand out to the light, willing it to tether to my hand again. Once it reconnected, I placed my left hand, palm down, over my right. The light winked out.

In a low voice, Taryn said, “Wait here, Your Highness. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to proceed.”

Barely breathing, afraid of making any sound, I whispered, “All right.”

Taryn opened the stone door just enough so that she could slip her slender frame through it. The door closed behind her, but not completely. I could make out the tiniest sliver of fading light through its crack. As I waited impatiently, I clenched and released my fists repeatedly.

The door opened a little wider. Taryn’s face filled the frame. She motioned for me to