Mist-Torn 01 - The Mist-Torn Witches (17 page)

“All of it?” Amelie repeated, watching her.

“It has to put them to sleep.”

Amelie glanced down at a chair. “We could just break a leg off this, and I could put them to sleep.”

“Both of them? I doubt you could reach Pavel’s head. And anyway, it would just give Jaromir an excuse to lock you up if he catches us.”

“Oh, and drugging them is so much better.”

Strangely, even after her painful confession, things between her and Amelie seemed unaltered. They might argue, but they had always worked together. Perhaps nothing would change after all.

“So how are you going to get them to drink it?” Amelie asked. “Use your charm?”

“That’s the general idea. But we need to hurry. If Jaromir takes watch, we won’t have a chance. Not even if you offered it to him.”

“Not even if I…,” Amelie stammered. “What does that mean?”

“Come on,” Céline said. “We need to go.”

Carrying both mugs, she led the way back downstairs, past the great hall, and to a stairwell leading up again, inside the west tower, toward a section of the castle that housed permanent residents.

Before stepping off at the first landing, she steeled herself. “You’d better stay here out of
sight,” she told Amelie, “and let me handle this first part.”

Without waiting for an answer, she started down the passage, spotting Pavel outside the assigned door in the same moment he spotted her coming.

His face registered shock at first, and then a flush of pleasure. She was still wearing the lavender gown.

Céline had little understanding of feminine wiles, but she didn’t need them here. She knew what most men responded to, what most people responded to really: nurturing kindness. Pavel’s predisposed attraction to her should do the rest.

As she approached, the other guard turned to face her as well…What was he called? Rurik?

“It’s late, miss,” he said.

She offered them both a tired smile. “I know, but I couldn’t sleep.” Holding out the mugs, she said, “You’ve been here for hours, and I thought you might be thirsty. It’s just cold tea, but it’s spiced, with a little milk added. Helga left it for us to drink in the night.”

Rurik hesitated, but Pavel seemed in charge here and told him, “It’s all right.”

After that, the ease with which both men reached out surprised even her. Under normal circumstances, Jaromir would not have hesitated to accept a mug of tea from a pretty face, but he’d never have taken one from her hand or Amelie’s tonight. He’d have suspected they were up to something—which they were.

Pavel seemed so pleased by her attention that she felt a stab of guilt.

“Has all been quiet?” she asked, looking into the room where Inna lay sleeping.

He took a swallow of tea and nodded. “The lieutenant’s lady came by, but otherwise we’ve seen no one.”

Jaromir had a lady? That was news.

But she listened politely, watching him take another swallow.

“All right,” she said. “I just wanted to check on you and bring you something to drink.”

His face softened at the words “check on you,” and another stab of guilt hit home.

“What time will you breakfast?” he asked.

“Probably midmorning,” she lied.

“I’ll meet you in the dining hall.”

Though she had no intention of being anywhere near this castle by midmorning, she said, “Be sure you get some sleep first. You’ve had a long night.”

He seemed so taken aback by her concern that he couldn’t speak.

“Both of you, drink up,” she said, “so I can take the mugs back to our room.”

They tipped their mugs and swallowed down the rest of the tea. With a motherly countenance, she gathered the mugs and bid them both good night. After walking gracefully down the passage, she stepped back onto the landing and moved out of sight, where Amelie was hiding around the corner inside the stairwell.

Amelie stared at her and whispered, “I was watching. They were like little boys in your hands.”

“That was the easy part. You wait until we have to get Inna out of the room. You’ll have to keep her quiet.”

Amelie raised one eyebrow. “What’s the plan after that?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Céline whispered back. “You might have to steal us a pony and cart. We’ll get her at least a day away from the village and find a safe place to keep her. You can stay with her—keep her there. But I can’t be away too long if I’m to continue to help catch the killer. I’ll come back and explain to Anton what we’ve done and that I am still willing to keep seeking information about the murderer…short of letting Jaromir use the girls as bait. I won’t stand for that.”

“I don’t know, Céline. That means you’ll be traveling for at least a day by yourself, getting back here.”

“Well, let’s just get Inna out of the village and then decide what to do next.”

Sighing, Amelie asked, “How long till Pavel and Rurik fall asleep?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never drugged anyone before.”

*   *   *

Although she hadn’t said anything, Amelie hardly expected Céline’s plan to go smoothly. For one, Pavel and Rurik weren’t likely to both fall
over in a dead faint at the same moment. And two, she wasn’t convinced they should be doing this at all.

She didn’t disagree with Céline’s viewpoint. If Inna indeed was the next victim, then she should be taken as far from danger as possible…but Amelie wasn’t quite as willing to risk their own future and place here in order to help the likes of Inna.

There seemed to be something else driving Céline onward, a need to prove to herself that she could change what she’d seen in her vision.

So, Amelie hid there with her on the landing for a while, just waiting and listening. All was quiet. In light of what they were attempting tonight, she’d strapped both her dagger and her short sword to her belt.

“Maybe I should go and check?” Céline whispered. “See if they’re asleep.”

But before she’d finished her sentence, a slurred voice sounded from down the passage.

“Pavel…Pavel, wake up!”

Amelie dashed out from the landing. Looking down the passage, she saw Rurik weaving on his feet, standing over the unconscious body of Pavel laid out on the floor.

“Pavel!” Rurik slurred again. All she could see of him was his exposed back.

Knowing it was possible that his voice might soon reach Jaromir, Amelie jerked her short sword from its sheath and held it point up, hilt down.
She flew down the passage, running up behind the disoriented Rurik and hitting him as hard as she could on the back of his head with the hilt.

He dropped like a sack of grain, landing on top of Pavel’s chest.

Turning, Amelie found Céline right behind her.

“We need to get Inna. Quick!” Céline breathed.

Amelie rushed into the room just as Inna was beginning to stir, probably awakened by the activity outside her door. Without hesitation, Amelie sheathed her sword, grabbed Inna’s mouth, and dragged her out of bed. Eyes wide, Inna struggled and fought, but she wasn’t strong, and Amelie had no trouble holding her.

“You try and get us caught, and I’ll bash the back of your head in,” Amelie hissed in her ear, positioning her so she had a clear view of Rurik.

She had no intention of doing this—but Inna didn’t know that.

Céline hurried in. “We’re trying to help you, to save you. Just come with us.”

Inna struggled harder and tried to cry out, this time sounding enraged as opposed to frightened, and this time, her anger made her feel stronger. Amelie’s grip slipped. With little choice, she let go with her right hand and used her left to jerk Inna around and punch her across the jaw.

Like Rurik, she dropped.

“What did you do that for?” Céline whispered in panic.

“What did you expect?” Amelie whispered
back. “That we could drag her out the castle’s front doors kicking and screaming?”

Hoisting Inna’s unconscious form over her shoulder, Amelie carried her down the passage and down the stairwell, weaving only a few times under the extra weight. Céline followed anxiously but didn’t say anything more.

Once on the main floor, they made a beeline for the castle’s entryway and the open doors leading out into the courtyard—which led to the short bridge into the village. At night, two guards were usually in attendance at the entryway, but the castle was always open to anyone of the Sèone community, and as the taverns and eateries and gambling dens were out in the village, the guards were accustomed to nobles, merchants, or other soldiers coming and going around the clock. They were mainly posted to question strangers attempting to enter in the late hours.

It appeared Anton trusted his own people, and the stronger security had all been focused on the outer gates.

“Pretend you’re drunk,” Amelie told Céline, and they both weaved on their feet—with Amelie still carrying Inna—as they approached the entryway.

Both guards on duty had played cards with Amelie over the past few days, and so they knew her. One of them, Guardsman Stiva, smiled ruefully when she approached.

“Are you ever going to bed?” he asked.

She’d passed them both earlier when she and Céline had gone to make the poppy syrup and come back. Amelie patted Inna’s bottom. “We had a little gathering in our room, and my friend here had too much wine. I think she needs some air.”

Glancing at Inna’s backside in mild concern, he asked, “You want some help?”

“No, we’re good.”

Amelie staggered past him, not entirely faking, as Inna was starting to get heavy. Céline followed. Once they were outside the castle, cool night air blew across their faces, and they hurried across the courtyard, out the gates, and over the bridge into the village.

“Down here,” Céline said, moving out ahead and trotting toward the path, turning and heading to the back outer wall of a stable, out of sight of the castle. Amelie went after her as quickly as she could, relieved to lower Inna to the ground once they were safely hidden in the shadows.

“She’s not as light as she looks.”

Inna began to stir. Her eyes opened. For a moment they were blank, and then she hissed like a cat, sitting up, pressing her back against the stable wall and looking around. “What have you…Where am I?”

“You’re almost safe,” Céline said. “Stop fighting and trust us!” She leaned closer. “I saw you die, and you were in a room with gray stone walls. We’re going to get you all the way out of this village, just to be sure.”

“Out of the village?” Inna was so taken aback, her words didn’t even sound venomous. Then bitter poison began leaking into her voice as her eyes narrowed. “You fools. Prince Anton orders both the inner and outer portcullises to be closed at night. He began that some time ago to avoid a night attack when the civil wars increased in the north.”

“Yes, but they’ll let us out,” Céline said. “I can see no one being allowed inside, but surely the guards will allow villagers or merchants who wish to leave to get out.”

Inna shook her head with great satisfaction. “No, they have orders not to open either portcullis until dawn for any reason. Some other prince hiding his men outside might take advantage. The way the castle is positioned, anyone approaching the gates in daylight hours can be seen for leagues, but Prince Anton is cautious at night.”

Amelie let her mind go back to that first day they’d arrived here. She remembered Jaromir saying something at dawn about it getting light enough to enter, just as she’d looked ahead to see a gatehouse with a closed portcullis, set inside a stone wall, on the other side of a bridge stretching over the moat. Beyond that gatehouse had been a road leading about halfway up the hill to another gatehouse set against another stone wall.

Even Jaromir had waited for dawn before trying to enter the exterior gate.

Even Jaromir.

She closed her eyes. “Then we can’t get out of the village tonight.”

“And by morning,” Inna said smugly, “the lieutenant will have every man under his command searching for you, and all the guards on the gates will have been warned.” Her expression shifted slightly, more to a demeanor of begging. “But we can go back inside now. If you let me attend to my lord, I swear I’ll say you were only trying to help me do my duties, not trying to steal me away. Prince Anton would understand that. He wouldn’t punish you for freeing me to attend him.”

Her eyes were glassy, with a hint of madness, and Amelie wondered if perhaps they shouldn’t give up on this venture and take her back inside.

“No,” Céline said flatly. “We’ll hide somewhere until morning, and then I’ll think of a way to get us out those gates. Inna, if you go back inside that castle, or even if you stay in this village, I think you will die.”

Inna leaned back, hissing like a cat again.

“Céline…,” Amelie began, not certain how to voice her doubts. “Where are we going to hide? As soon as Jaromir finds Pavel and Rurik, he’ll get a search going. We can’t go to the apothecary’s shop. It’s the first place he’ll look. We don’t know anyone in the village. We have no friends here to help us.”

At the word “friends,” Céline stiffened. She was quiet for a moment and then looked up. “I think I might know where to go.”

*   *   *

Exhausted from five days of too little rest and too much strain, Jaromir slept on his bed, still wearing his chain armor and tabard. But after a while, his internal instincts began to expect a knock at the door, a call for him to take watch.

His eyes opened.

He lay on top of the blankets for a moment, feeling that something was wrong…the time of night felt wrong. As he sat up, the feeling increased, and he got out of bed, hurrying for the door.

Out in the passage, he looked left. “Pavel,” he called, expecting an answer. None came.

He’d taken only a few steps when he spotted the bodies on the floor, and he started running, panic flooding through him.

“Pavel!”

When he reached them, though, he didn’t stop. Instead he jumped over the top of them and skidded into the room, expecting the worst. But to his puzzlement, no shriveled corpse lay in the bed. It was empty. Whirling back around, he noticed the lump on the back of Rurik’s head, and he strode back to the doorway, lifting Rurik from where he lay over Pavel’s chest. Rurik was breathing, but he was like a deadweight. Pavel moaned.