As the Duergar king turned and began leading the party down the road, I couldn’t help wondering if I should have found a different way to come here. Something less conspicuous. As we began to move forward in the procession, I looked up at the hawthorn trees and spotted a camouflaged archer among the foliage.
In sharp contrast to the celebratory bugling and chatter, a knot of foreboding began to tighten in my stomach. The Duergar palace began to come into view down the road. Nicole was in there somewhere. I just needed to figure out how to find her and get the hell out.
Chapter 13
THE DUERGAR PALACE was all baroque curves and flourishes, with streamers flowing from the highest turrets and fluttering banners draping over the walls. It was made of pale-gray stone, and it seemed there was an armed sentry in every window and on every walkway. Again, the juxtaposition of guards and weaponry with cheery festivity set me on edge.
The party went up to the main entrance of the palace, where the huge steel doors were swung outward for our arrival. Inside, we passed through a courtyard with miniature hawthorn trees and pleasant fountains and went on into the central interior. The space inside was grander than the New Garg fortress—high ceilings, statuary, luxurious overstuffed furniture, and fresh flowers in giant vases.
A legion of Duergar attendants awaited us in a neat line. As soon as the entire party had gathered in the great hall, they broke formation and approached the guests they were assigned to. When a waif-like young Duergar man with shifting eyes headed my direction, Emmaline hopped around in front of me and intercepted him.
Maxen let go of my elbow. “I’ll send for you after we’ve been shown to our rooms,” he whispered in my ear.
Oh, great. That wouldn’t cause any gossip at all.
He stepped away before I could reply.
Emmaline came to me brandishing her tablet. “I can take you and Lady Tisdale to your room, now.”
I glanced around, looking for the shifty-eyed Duergar attendant and spotted him sulking at the edge of the group.
“I told him we wouldn’t need him until later,” Emmaline said with a wan smile.
“Fine work,” I said appreciatively. “Please, lead the way. I can’t wait to change out of this.” I plucked at the fabric of my dress.
The party began to disperse as the guests were taken to their quarters.
Emmaline consulted her tablet, which I saw had a layout of the Duergar palace, and then took us toward a doorway that led out into another courtyard. The Duergar boy trailed behind us.
“You and Lady Tisdale are sharing a suite up there,” my page said. She gestured up at the second-floor balcony that ran around the rectangular courtyard. “All of the guests will be on the same floor.”
We went up a staircase and around to a door with a pink flourish design molded onto it.
Once inside, I spotted our luggage and eagerly went to my trunk to pull out a blouse and a pair of riding pants. I set Mort against the wall so I could change. Emmaline closed and bolted the door before our Duergar attendant could sidle inside.
“He shouldn’t expect to be let into ladies’ quarters anyway,” she muttered.
Lochlyn was moving around the suite, making delighted sounds at the canopied beds, the mirrored vanity, and the crystal chandelier that hung in the small sitting room. The accommodations were luxurious, to be sure, but I didn’t plan to be there long enough to enjoy them.
Emmaline took my discarded dress to one of the armoires to hang it up, and I pulled out my broadsword but left the scabbard on the floor. I went to the nearest wall and started tapping Mort against it.
“What in the world are you doing?” Lochlyn demanded.
“Looking for . . . vulnerabilities,” I said.
I methodically moved around the main room. When I got to the area under the window seat, the tone of the sword against the wall panels changed a bit. I knelt and ran my fingers over the panels and then searched for a way to lift the seat, thinking it might be hollow for storage. The seat tipped back, and indeed there were extra quilts piled inside. I moved the quilts and began exploring the storage space with my hands. At one end, there was a panel that seemed loose. I worked my fingertips around the edge of it and pulled, and it opened, revealing a tunnel not much bigger than an air duct.
“Ha,” I said softly.
The space was tight, but big enough for a slender spy to shimmy through.
I found another hollow area near the toilet and one more in the ceiling of the closet. There was also a service panel in one bedroom that I suspected was another way into the quarters. I probably hadn’t found all the secret passages, but I was satisfied I’d found enough of them. They weren’t just for spies. Palaces always had hidden connections between rooms for other reasons, too—often in the name of discretion for sexual interludes. If it came down to it, I might need to use the passages to move around the palace myself.
While I’d been casing the quarters, Lochlyn had danced around humming to herself as she unpacked her things. She sat at the vanity, touching up her makeup.
I went to put on Mort’s scabbard, sheathed the broadsword, and checked that my karambit, a small but wicked knife, was in its pocket on the scabbard strap. Feeling slightly guilty for destroying the stylists’ fine work, I swept my hair up into a high ponytail and coiled that into a bun that was held in place by a few hairpins.
“Could I see your maps of the palace?” I asked my page.
She handed me her tablet, and I scrolled through the diagrams for a couple of minutes. The labeling was woefully sparse, only giving information about the areas where we would be attending events. The rest were big blank blocks.
“How much time did you spend here during your summers at court, Emmaline?” I asked.
“I’ve been here once before, the summer I was fifteen.”
“If someone were held here against their will, have any guesses about where they might be housed?”
Her purple-gray gaze sharpened with interest. She put a finger to her lips and thought for a moment. “There are some quarters behind the stables, a big bunk house. I used to sneak out there with some of the other girls. Either there, or the basement. Not to sound cliché, or anything, but there is a sort of dungeon down there.”
I’d take the stables over the dungeon. Periclase wanted my sister for some purpose, but I would bet that he didn’t want her reporting she was mistreated too terribly at the hands of the Duergar. That would make him look bad.
“Any inconspicuous way to get to the stables from here?” I asked Emmaline.
She pointed at the map. “There’s supposedly an underground tunnel that starts here, just outside the west kitchen at what looked like an old root cellar. But it was barricaded at both ends, so I never got the chance to try it.”
I nodded. “Good to know. How much time do we have?”
“Another half hour until you’re expected for cocktails,” she said.
“Perfect.” I passed her tablet back to her. “Lochlyn and I are going to do a bit of, uh, walking in the garden. We won’t be long.”
Before my page could protest, I grabbed Lochlyn’s wrist and towed her out the door.