The Firethorn Crown (18 page)

Why hadn’t she thought of this before?

“I’m sorry,” he said. Her frustration upset him. “I’m useless against . . . whatever this is. If I could—”

She put a hand over his mouth to stop him. His face flushed immediately, but he quieted. Turning to the girls, she indicated for them to form their line. They hesitated because of Eben, but she glared at them.

Gwen grabbed Melantha and Coral firmly by the hand. “You will listen to your sister and future queen.” With her unwavering tone, she sounded more queenly than Lily ever had.

Lily smiled gratefully. When they were ready, she stepped in front of Eben and held out her hand. Instead of grasping it, he cupped it in his, tracing the wire ring on her finger with his thumb, sending tingles up her arm.

“You kept it,” he whispered, low enough that the girls couldn’t hear.

She turned her wrist, threaded her fingers through his tightly, and led him to the front of the line.

“Don’t panic,” Melantha said.

“What?”

Lily grabbed Melantha’s hand, and they disappeared.

He grunted and squeezed her hand so hard the ring bit into her finger.

It worked. Now they could sneak him into the undergarden, so he could finally see what was going on.

She let go of Melantha but kept a tight hold on Eben, finding strength in his nearness.

She’d never seen his face so pale, even during his recovery from the pit dragon.

“That was . . .” He looked at the girls with awe and fear in his eyes.

It was indescribable, and they didn’t have time to discuss it, even if they could have.

“We have to go,” Neylan said.

“Go?” His brows lowered, but only for a second. “I’m not even going to ask. You have to go somewhere, and you have to be invisible, and you need my help to get out of here. Right?”

Lily nodded.

“Right. I’ll hold the door until you’re all through. How long will you be gone?”

She shook her head vehemently, held up his hand still clasped in hers, and pointed to the door.

“You want me to go with you?”

A chorus of “Yes, yes, yes!” erupted from the girls.

He inspected the ring again and then let go. “That makes things easier. I was gonna follow you, anyway. I’ll meet you at the bottom of the stairs. Ready?”

The girls linked hands, and he opened the door wide. The guards paused in their patrol.

“No questions.” Eben spoke as a commander to his men, and they obeyed.

Somehow, Eben correctly guessed the moment when they had all passed the threshold. He followed their small noises, walking along the opposite wall, until they all reached the main floor.

Half afraid he would change his mind, Lily grabbed his hand. A slight intake of breath was the only indication that he found the process disturbing. Without losing skin contact, she transferred his hand into Melantha’s so that he stood between them. She would lead tonight, and she would do her best to give him some answers.

Chapter Eighteen

L
ily led her invisible chain along silent hallways and into the gardens. The stars shone fitfully through mottled clouds.

Eben’s grip strangled her fingers. He followed their lead and kept silent. They couldn’t answer any of his questions, anyway. Lily felt some comfort, having him near, but she still wondered if his actions were guided more by his sense of duty, or by his feelings for her. For
her
, not for her status as princess and heir to the throne. Either way, she feared what Tharius might do if he found Eben in the undergarden. They had to stay invisible until the last minute.

Her feet picked out the path through the maze and stopped at the mirror.

“That wasn’t here earlier,” Eben said.

Before he could protest, she plunged through the imaginary firethorns and onto the sloping path. The stars stayed behind.

“What—” Eben cut himself off.

Even with her fingers on the damp stone, her feet faltered at the stairs. Eben drew close, so that their shoulders brushed, and she found herself counting his breaths this time, instead of her footsteps.

“When do we let go?” Azure whispered from somewhere in the middle.

“When Lily tells us to,” Hazel said.

A few more steps, and they passed through the doorway into the obsidian forest. Lily wanted to see Eben’s face. “Now,” she said, but she kept his hand.

He swallowed a few times as he took in the odd surroundings. “You can talk now?”

“Yes, once I’ve passed the doorway. I can’t stay here. He’ll be looking for me.” Tharius would know they were here. She hoped he couldn’t use his sorcery to count one more.

“What—who?”

“Stay out of sight.”

He jerked back at her order.

She couldn’t stay to explain. “Neylan will tell you what she can. The rest of you, follow slowly through the archway, give them as much time as possible. He won’t notice, once I’m there.” Maybe.

She squeezed Eben’s hand and let go. He didn’t, and she was forced to stop after a few steps, their arms extended between them.

“Please, Eben.” She pressed her free hand, the one with the ring, over her stomach. She had to get to Tharius, to distract him.

Eben released her, and she hurried off.

“Lily!”

If she turned around, she might not find the strength to go on.

The other girls followed.

Lily stopped just before the path took them within view of the archway. “I need your help.”

“Name it,” Melantha said.

“We need to keep Tharius and his gentlemen busy, keep their attention on the dancing.”

“Glad I didn’t wear slippers,” Azure mumbled.

“They seem to favor Hazel and Coral.” Lily let that sink in for a moment.

Coral pressed her lips together and wrinkled her nose.

“Maybe the twins can check on Bay tonight,” Hazel offered.

“Let’s go, then.”

*

Tharius stood as she’d left him the previous night, no tunic, black from head to toe. Eyes underlined in shadows peered at her from a face even more pale than usual.

Some of the weariness disappeared when he saw her, and his face brightened. He took a step forward and stretched out his hand, even before her transformation was complete.

“Perfection, once again.”

Sparing a quick glance at her gown, she flushed and then focused straight ahead as he led her to the clearing. Slim straps held up a plunging bodice embroidered with an armor-like web of silver thread. Black skirts floated like gossamer around her legs.

Well,
that
might keep him distracted.

If she hadn’t told the girls to take their time, they would have overtaken her and Tharius. The darkness weighed heavy on him tonight, slowing his steps. When he guided her onto the dance floor, the music seeped through the air, sluggish and low. But his feet did not falter, and as the shadow-people surrounded them, and her sisters joined them one by one, the tempo increased with each dance. She didn’t ask for a break, and he seemed pleased.

After the fourth dance, he spoke. “You have an admirer or two.” His voice purred like a predatory animal.

She tried to keep her face impassive, but her heart struggled against the tight corset and drummed in her ears. Did he know Eben was here?

She took a small breath and lifted her chin. “I’m the Crown Princess of Ituria. I have many admirers.”

“Mmm.” His lips twitched in a smirk and then fell, as if he were too tired to bother. “These two made a pest of themselves today, searching for something in the maze.”

Eben and Yarrow.

“I wonder what they could be searching for.” His purr edged closer to a growl.

“You didn’t think I was without friends, did you? That no one could love me, care about me enough to make guesses?”

He scoffed. “Half the men in the palace are in love with
the heir
. They don’t love you.”

That was true, but only partly. Yarrow cared about her, as he cared for all of them. And Eben was her best friend. Or, he had been, until her birthday, and things had grown strained. Maybe she and Tharius were both right about Eben—he did care, but not enough. Not like that. Not enough to break the curse.

Or maybe Tharius feared there might be someone to break her curse. If only she could be certain enough to take a chance.

He noticed her ring. “What is this?”

“A trinket. From a friend.”

His face clouded. He passed her off gruffly to a tall gentleman and took Mara into his arms.

None of the girls took breaks. Ivy sat by herself in a puff of silver-grey at the edge of the clearing. Thankfully, Eben stayed out of sight.

Lily desperately wanted to slip off into the hedges and topiaries and find him, explain things herself, but she didn’t dare. Tharius’s suspicions regarding the intruders had affected his courtiers, who watched the girls closely. But there was one gentleman missing—the wheezer. She hadn’t seen him all night.

During a small pause between dances, Lily’s partner deposited her under a cluster of caged candlelight. She’d barely caught her breath when Tharius appeared at her side and spun her onto the floor in another dizzying pattern. He pulled her in close, and she was glad for the silver-armored gown. He smelled of . . . soap.

He didn’t share her again. The dances bled, one after the other, into the darkness.

Twice during the night, she startled, thinking she’d seen Eben’s face peeking from behind some bushes. Each time, her skin prickled with heat. What would Eben think of her wearing such a ridiculous dress and dancing so closely with another man? Part of her wished he would storm onto the dance floor and demand Tharius release her; but he would not endanger them like that. No one else noticed him, and she convinced herself it was an illusion, her own mind joining in on the absurdity of this place.

At last, she could dance no more. “My sisters need rest.”

Tharius yielded and led her to the edge of the clearing. She wanted to walk away on her own, but her knees buckled beneath her. His arm circled her waist and he supported her along the path. The girls passed them in twos and threes.

He released her in front of the archway. “You have been most attentive tonight,” he said, hope and doubt passing like clouds across his face.

He’d never seen clouds. Or sunlight.

She pinched her elbows where they lay cupped in her hands and winced at the sting from the nearly-healed wounds. She couldn’t afford pity.

Gwen waited at the bend in the path, where she could watch both Lily and the doorway back to the maze. She gave no indication that Eben had arrived. Could he have left without them?

Lily wouldn’t—couldn’t—think about the possibility that he’d been caught.

She walked through the archway and then turned to face Tharius. She would linger as long as she dared, buy Eben what time she could, but she wanted the invisible barrier between her and Tharius.

He took a step forward, his eyes sparking with hope. “You don’t have to leave.”

“I can’t stay.”

“I see your uncertainty.” Another step. “You doubt yourself, your judgment, your ability to choose who to trust with your heart.” Two more steps. “Give it to me. No one else wants it. No one else knows you like I do.”

He did know her well, and yet, not at all.

“Stay with me.”

“I . . .” She glanced at Gwen, who shook her head just enough for Lily to see.

“You can end all of this right now. Tell me you love me, and your sisters will be free. We can be together.”

Was it that easy? He’d said her curse could only be broken by words of love spoken and returned. No matter what he thought he felt for her, he didn’t know enough about love to break the curse.

“We would only be free if you said it back to me.” And meant it.

Three more steps forward, and he stood closer to the arch than ever. If she could get him past it, what would happen? He’d never said, but it must be bad for him. Which might be good for her.

“I will free your sisters.” He looked at her desperately now, reaching for her. “No more curse, if you join me in my exile.”

He inched closer, and she did the same. He was changing the rules. It was tempting. But could she doom herself to share his life of darkness in order to ensure her sisters had the chance to live theirs in the sun? Gwen would make a good queen, for all that she loathed the idea. But what about Bay? Lily would have to get her out, too, somehow.

“Don’t make me say it first, Lily. Tell me you love me.”

She couldn’t say the words, but could she stay with him?

“Will you throw away your sisters’ futures so easily?”

She shook herself and backed up. There was much she didn’t know about him, but she knew she couldn’t trust his word.

Gwen beckoned emphatically. Time to go.

Tharius’s eyes brimmed with emotion, his pain almost tangible. His shoulder brushed the archway.

“Stay,” he whispered one more time.

“I can’t.” Not wanting to anger him with Bay still trapped, she added, “Not yet. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Hope shone through his anger and despair. She despised herself for leading him on, even a little, but she had to put her sisters and her people first. He wrapped his arms around himself, gripping his shoulders as if to keep from falling apart.

Eben waited at the base of the stairs with her sisters.

“I thought you might have gotten lost,” she whispered.

“This place isn’t as big as you might think. It’s all illusions.”

“Did you find Bay?”

“No.”

“Do you think he might have her locked up?” Hazel asked.

“She’ll be okay.” Lily squeezed Hazel’s shoulder. Bay was his backup plan. He wouldn’t hurt her.

“I still have questions,” Eben said, “but Neylan says you can’t speak of some things.”

“No.” She waved the girls to the stairs.

Eben ran his hands through his hair, but it was too short to stand on end like Holic’s. “I don’t know what to make of this sorcery.”

“Yarrow might,” Ivy said from the ground.

Eben picked her up like a baby. “We can’t linger here. I’m guessing your gentleman is behind this, and he’ll wonder why you’ve all stopped at his doorway.” Hurt and unmistakable jealousy tinged his voice.

Lily stepped close and looked into his eyes. “He’s not my gentleman.”

A pause, and then a hint of a smile teased his lips. She almost missed it in the gloom.

Almost.

*

When they reached the willows, Eben set Ivy on her feet. Lily and the girls linked hands, and Eben, fully visible, led them through the gardens. No one would think his wandering around at night odd.

They trudged back to the tower.

“Follow close,” Eben whispered, and the empty hall swallowed his words.

Up the stairs and past the guards. If they were surprised to see Eben at this hour, they didn’t show it.

The one at the door spoke. “Yarrow’s sleeping on the couch. Wants to see Ivy and the girls in the morning.”

Ivy inhaled sharply, but the guards didn’t seem to hear.

“Carry on.” Eben held the door open, and Lily led the girls into the room and along the wall towards the fireplace, until they stood in a row facing the windows.

Yarrow sat up on the couch he hadn’t been sleeping on. His grizzled face betrayed his concern, his gaze darting from the hallway to the interior of the room.

Eben stepped inside. As soon as the door snicked shut, Ivy broke free and threw herself, sobbing, into Yarrow’s arms. He caught her, but barely. If he’d been expecting anything, it hadn’t been a display of invisibility. “What—”

Lily clapped her hands and motioned for the girls to get upstairs to bed. Gwen, Hazel, and Neylan were to stay with her.

Melantha protested, but Lily stomped her foot and pointed upstairs. Melantha sighed, but plodded behind the others.

Lily regretted the foot stomp. She dropped into a chair and peeled off her sweaty slippers.

Yarrow gently removed Ivy from around his neck. “You go on, and get some rest. I’ll be here in the mornin’.”

Ivy shook her head, but he held her face in his hands, until she settled and focused on him. “It’s okay.” He waited for his words to sink in. “Got it?”

She nodded and whispered, “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He pulled a small parcel from a pocket of his cloak and slipped it into her hand.

With a few backwards glances, she let Mara lead her upstairs.

Yarrow turned to Lily. “Can you tell me what’s goin’ on?”

She shook her head but pointed to Eben.

“I don’t know where to start.” Eben perched on the arm of the chair where Lily sat and shared his invisible journey. As Yarrow walked the room, Eben explained the mirror, the secret passageway, the forest of jeweled trees, and the archway that gowned the girls for a ball. He painted a picture of Tharius so clearly that she knew it hadn’t been her imagination conjuring Eben’s face during the dance. He described the garden of poisonous plants, the starless sky, and things he had found that Lily hadn’t seen, including a small cemetery surrounded by laurels.

“There were eight mounds.” He shifted, his eyes troubled. “Lily, one of them was fresh.”