Darian’s lips and fingernails are turning bluer by the second, and he fights to breathe. Caspida gently lowers him to the floor, stroking his hair and murmuring consolingly as he gags and twitches. She pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the rest of the creamy red crimsonleaf poultice from her lips. His eyes fix on her, wild and frightened.
“You’ll pass out, then wake in an hour,” she murmurs. “You’ll have a terrible headache for days, but you’ll live. I could have killed you, Darian. But we were friends once, you and I, so I’ll give you this one chance.” She kisses his forehead, then bolts upright when shouting breaks out down the corridor, from Sulifer’s rooms. Dropping Darian, she flees.
Footsteps pound after her, and Sulifer’s angry shouts ring out. Torchlight begins bouncing wildly on the walls behind and ahead. Caspida is trapped.
The princess skids to a halt, her braid whipping as she looks back and forth between the guards sprinting toward her. Then she runs to a window, kicking out the carved trellis covering the opening. She gets one leg over the casement as Sulifer, flanked by guards, runs into view and calls out, “Stop her!”
Caspida throws herself out the window.
Chapter Twenty-Four
WE’RE ON THE SECOND STORY, and her landing is painful. She hits the ground and rolls, but still the impact knocks the wind out of her and wrenches her ankle. Sucking in the pain, she is up and running by the time the guards reach the window.
Arrows slam into the ground around her. Caspida ducks and runs faster, hopping on her wounded ankle.
“Kill her if you must!” Sulifer yells. “She is a traitor!”
The palace grounds are extensive, thick with night guards and with little cover to shelter Caspida as she flees across the wide stretch of grass in front of the palace. A storm of shouts fills the air, and torches flare up along the outer wall, toward which she is sprinting. The lamp bounces on her back until I am quite dizzied.
Two guards intercept her, and the princess doesn’t hesitate. She swings the cloak with the lamp inside, clouting one on the head—and sending sparks of pain dancing through me—while she uses the momentum of the swing to whirl into a kick. Her foot strikes the second guard’s jaw and sends him reeling. Without waiting to finish him off, Caspida dashes the rest of the way, grimacing with pain.
When she reaches the wall, she clenches the cloak in her teeth and begins climbing, finding footholds in the eroded mortar between the bricks. Arrows stud the wall around her, striking sparks as they clash with the stone, before falling away. The walls are nearly as high as the palace, and her climb is perilous, but she continues doggedly on.
“Hand!” cries a voice from above. Khavar and Nessa are leaning over the top of the parapet, and they grab Caspida’s hands and pull her up.
“Looks like it went smoothly,” says Nessa, frowning at the oncoming wave of soldiers.
The guards posted on this section of the wall lie senseless, hands bound with their own belts. But farther down the walls, to the right and left, others are now charging our way.
“Cas, you all right?” asks Nessa.
“Let’s just keep moving,” says the princess stonily.
Khavar already has a rope tied around the rampart, and she throws it wide. Without waiting to check if it’s secure, Caspida wraps the end of the cloak around her hands, grabs the rope, and slides down, planting her feet against the wall to slow her descent. The other girls follow.
Ensi and Raz are waiting below, furiously fending off a handful of guards. The air glitters with crimsonleaf powder, which Ensi slings in wide arcs. The quarters too close for Raz to use her bow, she makes do with a small curved scimitar.
“Hurry!” Ensi cries. “I’m running out!”
Caspida, Khavar, and Nessa drop to the ground in quick succession, just as the one remaining guard reaches Ensi and raises his sword, poised to take off her head with one strike.
Moving in a blur, Caspida whips out a knife and throws it. The blade sinks into the man’s shoulder with such force that he drops the sword and stumbles backward, screaming.
“Let’s go!” Caspida yells.
The girls cut right and race along the outer wall. When guards take position above and begin firing arrows, they dive behind an abandoned cart of cabbages.
“What now?” cries Ensi.
“We have to go south, through the city,” says Caspida.
“This is a disaster,” moans Khavar. “Poor Gao is so stressed.” She strokes the head of her snake, which emerges from her collar.
“Your snake is stressed?” hisses Nessa.
“Everyone quiet!” Caspida orders. “Get this cart moving. Stay low, and it’ll block their shots.”
The girls, still crouched, grab the side of the cart and begin rolling it forward. Arrows pound into the other side and sink into the cabbages with a wet sound very much like flesh. Bits of leafy greens rain down on their heads.
“Ugh,” says Ensi. “I hate cabbage.”