“Course there is, darling. Gallons of it. Now hurry up and get moving.”
Tash followed Nessa along the corridor, up the narrow stone stairs, and into the castle courtyard. There was only the jailer in front and one guard behind. They both had short spears, but they hadn’t chained her hands as they had done the adult prisoners, as the manacles were too big and she could slip her hands out of them.
Tash blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light of the courtyard. This was her one chance to make a dash for it. The women weren’t hurrying, despite the shouts from the jailers. At the front of the line, Tash could hear Nessa loudly demanding a rest in the fresh air. One of the other women was already sitting down on the cobbles. There were soldiers in the courtyard, but not near the gates, which stood open. If she could get out of the castle she’d be able to find a hiding place. She’d have to come back to find a way to free Gravell, but the first thing was escape.
The jailer was prodding the woman sitting on the ground and Tash’s eyes met Nessa’s. She smiled and walked past Tash, saying, “I see you eyeing the gate. You’ll have to be fast if you try it.”
Tash smiled. “I’m fast enough.”
Nessa said, “Be ready then.” And she walked toward the jailer, complaining loudly. “We need water and fresh air! None of us had a drop to drink for a day. It’s torture. Amy there is pregnant.”
The jailers were both looking the other way. Now was her chance! Tash ran directly for the gates.
She’d got halfway before the jailer shouted, “Stop her!”
She’d got three-quarters of the way before she saw the soldier running at her from the left, but he was much slower than a demon, and she knew she could get away from him. She’d make it through the gates easily.
Then she reached the gates and came face-to-face with four guards who were stationed on the other side, out of sight from inside the courtyard.
“Shits!”
She swerved and doubled back and heard laughter as the soldiers chased her. This wasn’t like running from the boys in the bathhouse. She ran up some steps, but one of the men leaped up to block her path. She jumped down, dodged past another, and went back for the gates. But two men had stayed there and they advanced on her, so she veered round and ran for the castle keep itself. Perhaps she could find a way out through there.
As she reached the door of the keep, though, it opened and Tash barrelled straight into a woman, who fell backward with a scream. Tash tripped, her feet tangling in the woman’s skirts, bounced off the door frame and back into the waiting arms of a Pitorian soldier.
CATHERINE
ROSSARB, PITORIA
The demon hunter was asked about his methods and how he came by the smoke. He said the secret would go with him to the grave and I agreed that that would be soon.
Sheriff’s notes on the arrest of Jonyon Burgens CATHERINE HAD been sitting in her rooms all morning watching men die.
Early in the morning, a small flotilla of Pitorian ships had gone out from Rossarb to attack the Brigantine ships ferrying fresh soldiers across the bay. From her distant vantage point, Catherine thought their struggle appeared like an awful game: tiny figures sending out flaming arrows, other tiny figures putting out the fires, and some men falling in the water. The transport of Brigantine troops was being slowed, but it hadn’t been stopped. Catherine couldn’t face watching any more.
“I’m going to see my men,” she told Tanya, who smiled for the first time that morning.
Catherine made the best she could of her appearance and told Geratan, who was guarding her door, to lead the way. They went down the narrow winding steps of the castle. Geratan opened a door, and Catherine was about to step out into the courtyard when a young girl ran straight into her.
Catherine was knocked backward with a short scream of surprise as the girl ricocheted off her and through the door. Geratan grabbed the girl, who kicked him in the shin. He threw her to the ground with a curse.
Tanya asked, “Are you hurt, Your Highness?”
“No, just surprised.”
Catherine realized that ever since the attack in the king’s rooms she was more easily startled, but this was ridiculous. Screaming in public—because of a girl. Hardly the behavior of a princess. She took a breath and smoothed her dress and stepped out into the courtyard.
The girl was on the ground, a thin line of blood running from her forehead. She couldn’t be more than twelve years old. Her hair was long and blonde and in thick ropes that were matted and tangled like a bird’s nest. Her skin was a dark honey color, and when she opened her eyes they were the deepest blue, reminding Catherine of Tzsayn’s blue silk jacket. The girl certainly wasn’t like anyone she had seen before.
As the girl sat up, a man came over, shaking a heavy ring of keys.
“Right, you,” he said to the girl. “Get back with the other prisoners!”
Catherine looked around. A group of women sat on the far side of the courtyard. One was complaining loudly about being thirsty.
“Who are they?” Catherine asked.
“Criminals and lowlifes, my lady,” replied the jailer. “We’re movin’ ’em out of the cells to make room for Brigantine prisoners.”
“Can you give them some water at least?” Catherine said. “They look half-dead.”
It looked like this request was too much for the jailer’s mind to take in. Geratan told him, “The princess means for you to get the prisoners water. Now. I’ll watch this one.”
The jailer grunted, but he set off for the well. Catherine crouched down next to the girl.
“What’s your name?”
The girl looked up. “Tash. What’s yours?”
“Catherine.”
“You foreign?”
“I was born in Brigant but I’m Pitorian now. And proud to say so. What about you?”
“I was born in Illast, I think. But I’ve traveled all my life. Not so much now of course—now I’m a prisoner.”
“May I ask why you’re a prisoner?”
“Do I get water as well? Or just a lot of questions?”
“I’m sure I can get you water.”
“And something to eat?”
Catherine smiled, impressed by the girl’s confidence. “Yes, I think so. Geratan, find this young lady some food.”
Tash stood up and brushed herself off. Catherine wasn’t tall, but this girl was tiny.
“So?” Catherine asked. “Why are you a prisoner?”
“I’ve not done anything wrong,” Tash said. “A case of mistaken identity.”
One of the soldiers smacked her across the top of the head. “Don’t lie to Her Highness.”
“Hit me again and I’ll . . .” Tash glared at the soldier, then kicked him.
“No more hitting or kicking, please,” Catherine said.
The soldier said to Catherine, “She’s a demon hunter, Your Highness. And a natural-born liar too.”
“A demon hunter! At her age?”
Tash shrugged. “I’m a natural-born demon hunter, as it happens.”
Catherine couldn’t help but laugh. She still wasn’t sure she believed in demons, but the girl herself was like no one she’d ever met before.
A soldier brought the food, and Catherine had them set up a table at the side of the courtyard in the sun. Ambrose had arrived too, and Catherine felt him watching her as she sat opposite Tash while the girl munched through the dried apples and cheese. Their eyes met for a moment, and she felt a bloom of warmth in her cheeks and forced herself to turn away.
Tash squinted at Catherine and asked, “Who are you again?”
“I’m Catherine. Princess Catherine, formerly of Brigant, now of Pitoria.”
“Oh. Right. Should I curtsy or something?”
“Strictly, yes. But I’ll let you off. I’m not that fond of curtsying myself.”
“Your father? Is he the king of Brigant then?”
“Indeed he is.”
“The vicious one.”
“He has that nickname and that reputation.”
“Oh well. You can’t choose your family, as they say.”
Catherine certainly wouldn’t choose her father or Boris. She asked Tash, “Where’s your family?”
Tash shrugged. “Gravell’s my family now.”
“Gravell?”
“My partner.”
“Your demon-hunting partner?”