The Glowing Knight (3 page)

“WHAT'S OUR PLAN?”
James asked. “How are we going to get from here to wherever Knight is going? We have no idea where his
errand
could take him.”

“Hensley was trying to leave Hawksbill when I followed him last week.”

James counted items on his fingers. “One, there's no reason to believe that means Knight wants to leave Hawksbill tonight. And two, that makes the problem of getting to him even more difficult. How are we going to get past the gate guards? Scale the wall?”

I'd never scaled anything in my life, but now that he mentioned it, that did seem the best way to get into Thornton. Not that I had anything useful for scaling walls.

“Tobiah.” His tone was all exasperation. “I'm the last person who'd tell you to ignore this situation, but we don't even know how you're going to get out of this room without your
guards tailing you, let alone out of Hawksbill. Maybe it's time to send the police after him.”

“Sending the police after Knight won't solve the problem with Hensley. We don't even know
what
the problem is yet. Not the whole thing.” I mimicked James's posture and counted on my fingers. “One, Hensley threatened and attacked Knight, and we don't know why. But tonight is our best chance to get that answer. Two, Hensley might have killed Lord Roth, but again we don't know why. And three, Hensley is a flasher and until we find irrefutable proof of that, he's going to keep getting away with using his magic because police don't go after noble lords.”

James wrinkled his nose. “Having more numbers than me doesn't make you right. What you're proposing is vigilantism.”

“I don't think so. I'm a prince. This is my duty.”

“No, I'm pretty sure that investigating criminals and sneaking around to gather evidence are the actions of a vigilante, not a prince. Princes have people to do the sneaking for them.”

“If you insist that's what I am, I suppose that's what I'll be.”

“We.” James straightened his shirt.

I cocked my head. “We?”

“Obviously I'm going with you.”

“Oh no, you're not.” I stalked toward him. “Me. Not we. You're going to be a member of the Indigo Order. You can't go around breaking the law.”

“You're a prince.
And
you have an Order uniform, if I recall.”

“It's ceremonial. I didn't earn it and they won't kick me out if I'm discovered. But you will be punished if you're caught, so I'm forbidding you to join me.”

James's mouth dropped open. “You forbid it?”

A shard of self-loathing sliced through me. I'd promised myself I'd never use that word with him. I wouldn't order him around. He needed to have a choice to follow me, always.

“I'm sorry.” The words tasted like ash, because I wasn't going to rescind the command. He had too much to lose, and I could not lose him.

“It's fine.” He shook off my harsh words. He didn't know how much I hated myself for them, though. “Well, if
you're
going to do this, I'm going to make sure you do it right.”

I faked a grin. “I knew you'd come around. First I need a disguise. If Knight happens to see me, I'd rather he not recognize me.” I threw open the nearest wardrobe and inspected the contents. Fine shirts, jackets, and trousers. Suits for every occasion. The next wardrobe held more of the same. How could I have so many clothes with various purposes, and none of them remotely appropriate for sneaking?

“That's the first rational thing you've said. So, a mask?” He wandered toward one of the bookcases where I kept trinkets Mother insisted would hold emotional value one day.

“I don't have a mask. What am I going to do? Cut eye holes into stockings and put that over my face?”

“Your head is too big. What about this?” He picked up a metal mask I'd worn to a costume ball two years ago. It was a ghastly looking thing, with hollow eyes and parted lips, meant to represent the saint whose face had burned in a fire. Saint Fade Christopher had been so horribly disfigured he was forced to wear a silver mask as he went about the land performing his good works. Over time, the silver tarnished and he asked his
disciples to polish it. But he'd worn the mask for so long it stuck to his face; removing it killed him immediately.

I never quite understood why he didn't remove it and clean it regularly, but when I asked, teachers insisted that wasn't the point of the story.

“It looks like a mask to me.” James tossed it to me. Sacrilegious, probably, even if it was only a reproduction meant for costume.

I pressed the mask to my face, silk ties dangling below my shoulders. “Do I look dangerous and mysterious?”

“You look ridiculous. But if you insist on going, you need a disguise, and this will do.” James motioned at my training clothes. “Wear those for now. They're loose enough to move in and they're nothing particularly memorable. You're aiming for anonymity.”

“There's nothing anonymous about the mask.”

“It's all there is for now. We'll find something more practical later, if you need it.”

He was right. Practical and anonymous. Those were two things I needed if I was going to keep Professor Knight from knowing me, should he spot me tonight. And if I was going to scale the wall, I needed tools of some sort. A line.

I looked up at the curtain pulls.

Not ideal, but I needed something
now
.

Quickly, James and I moved through my room, dismantling objects where necessary. The curtain pulls. A C-shaped handle from a wardrobe door. We altered an old sword belt into a crude baldric, meant to hold my sheath against my back. If I was climbing, I didn't need a sword hanging at my hip, banging
on thighs.

“I've been thinking about the best way to get out of here.” I adjusted my shirt under the baldric until there were no wrinkles to rub and cause blisters where the leather straps fell.

“Yes?” James took the mask from the foot of my bed where I'd left it.

“I'll rappel straight down from the balcony.” I jerked my head toward the curtained doors.

James snorted a laugh. “That's three stories. And have you ever rappelled in your life?”

“You don't think I can do anything, do you?” How did he think I was planning on getting off the wall once I climbed up?

“I think you're very good at doing that thing with your hair.”

I started to comb my fingers through my hair, realized maybe that was what he meant, and grabbed the mask instead. “Even if I was to get past my guards out there, I'd be noticed right away by anyone else. There's no way I'm getting out of the palace through the front doors.”

“What about the servant doors?”

“What servant doors?”

“The same ones I use to leave the palace when I don't want to be delayed.” He motioned toward the balcony. “If you really want to do it that way sometime, then practice first, and make sure you know the guard routes so you don't get caught. But for tonight,
try
to avoid falling to your death.”

“And how am I supposed to get past the guards?”

“You won't. I'm going to lead them away for a while.”

“How?”

“By becoming you.”

TURNING JAMES INTO
me wasn't that hard.

He was roughly the same size and shape, so unless my guards spent much time memorizing my figure, they wouldn't notice the difference as long as James kept his face covered.

Wearing one of my suits, dark blue with gold embroidery around the sleeve cuffs and collar, James pulled a brimmed hat over the back of his head and pressed a handkerchief to his nose so that only his eyes were visible. “Do you recognize me?”

“You look just like that prince fellow if he had a terrible cold. Very handsome, in a sniffly sort of way.” I wished there was something more we could do about his hair—his was cropped short where I kept mine long—but a hat was the best solution for now. “Remember, don't meet their eyes. Just storm past and keep them busy. Hopefully they won't realize their mistake.”

A minute later, James was out the door.

I held my breath, waiting for the guards to see through the
disguise, but the only sounds were boots thumping on the floor. One of them grumbled that I was ruder than usual.

Then they were gone.

I allowed myself a grin as I put on the silver mask and opened the door just a crack.

The hall was empty. At least as far as I could tell. The eye holes of the mask allowed me to see straight forward, but it killed my peripheral vision.

My heart raced as I took one step out of my room. Then two. The door fell shut behind me.

I was alone.

Wonderfully, spectacularly alone. No guards. I wanted to revel in the feeling of no eyes on me, no judgment and no expectations, but this was hardly the time or place. James could be discovered any moment.

Keeping my steps quiet on the braided rug, I turned in the opposite direction James had taken my guards. Lamps kept a cheery glow down the line of mostly unused apartments, leading the way to a discreet door at the end of the hall.

The wooden door was the same rich shade as the walls around it, with only a faint line of space marking its presence. Even the handle was hidden; a hollow fell behind one of the carved dragons that flew the length of the wall. There was a small lever inside, and pulling it made the door swing open.

I glanced over my shoulder before stepping onto the small landing and pulling the door shut behind me.

Only a few gas lamps lit the interior, just another part of the illusion. With the hall bright enough, no light from here would shine through.

“Clever,” I whispered, and turned left to set a course down the ramp, letting one hand breeze over the banister.

The ramp ran along the palace wall, and was wide enough for a meal cart to be wheeled up, which answered a question I'd never thought to ask: how had servants managed to get their carts up the stairs?

Apparently there was a lot about the palace I didn't know.

I reached another landing shortly, and then another on the ground floor. Without opening the door, there was no way to see who was in the hall, but there was also no time to waste.

Aiming for confidence, I pushed open the door and strode out—right into a maid polishing the mirrors.

She yelped and jerked back, first taking in the mask over my face, then the sword strapped across my back, and finally the curtain pull looped over my shoulder. She thought I was a burglar.

Before I could even consider whether to identify myself, she flicked her polishing cloth at me. It stung my throat, then dinged off my mask, and at that point I realized perhaps I should run.

I turned and fled, gripping my curtain pull tight against my side. The wardrobe handle banged against my ribs as I careened through the halls.

Behind me, the maid shouted for guards. “Intruder! Burglar!”

Adrenaline spiked through me. I passed one intersecting hallway. Two. I turned a corner at the very back wall of the palace and stopped, chest heaving and breath rattling so loud I could barely hear the guards coming for me.

But there was supposed to be an exterior door around here
and if I didn't find it, I'd be arrested, then discovered, and then I'd have bodyguards sleeping in my bedroom with me.

“Calm down.” My voice had a metallic echo behind the mask. “Breathe.”

I counted backward from ten as I scanned the walls, searching for a hidden door like the one upstairs.

Boots pounded through the halls, as fast as my heart pounding in my chest. The door had to be here. James was never wrong. Well, hardly ever.

“You there! Stop!” The guards had turned the corner, swords already drawn so they could cut me down more quickly.

Maybe there was a spring panel I needed to push. Frantically, I began shoving at the wall, but if there was a spring I couldn't find it. No give in the carved wood panels. No telltale click.

The guards were just a few paces away. There was no more time.

Just then, the heel of my palm scraped over a sharp cut in the wood. Another handle like upstairs, just better hidden.

I pulled the catch and swung open the door, and without bothering to look at what waited for me, I darted into the sticky night.

The guards chased me. Of course.

I ran at full speed, hoping my eyes adjusted to the dark and pockets of light before I crashed into something—or someone.

Outbuildings littered the space between the palace and the game forest beyond—all good hiding places, if I had time to hide. But not only did I have to follow Knight, I had to figure out where I'd follow him from.

No time to doubt myself. I surged across a stretch between the door and the nearest outbuilding, tempted to pause there and wait for them to pass. But no, the gardening storage was too obvious. Instead, I put on a burst of speed and whipped around the northeast corner, then took a hard right toward the next building. A flagpole, sans flag, rested on the ground nearby.

The door was unlocked. Thank saints. I slipped inside and drew the door closed. Breath rattled through my chest as I fought to restrain a panicked laugh. Chased by my own guards. Not
mine
mine, but guards who answered to my family, nonetheless.

Footfalls slammed by. Paused.

Quickly, I glanced around the room. It was dim, but enough light shone through the windows to reveal the hulking shadows of storage shelves and crates, and enough floor space for a fairly energetic sword fight. Bits of crumbling wood lay scattered. At least, I hoped it was just debris, not dead animals.

As I feared, the guards had figured out where I'd gone. The door pulled open and light splintered in across the dusty floor, but as silently as I could, I knelt and grabbed a piece of shattered plate—or a cockroach shell; it was hard to be sure—and stayed low. Where I crouched beside the hinges, they couldn't yet see me.

I forced myself to breathe soft and even, and as the men began to peer into the building, I tossed the plate shard toward the back of the room.

“There!” They thundered by me, deeper into the dim storage building, and I slipped out, shutting and barring the door with the flagpole braced under the knob.

It wouldn't take long for them to get free; already, the door
rattled and the flagpole shifted.

I sprinted away. I'd given myself a head start, but it wouldn't be long before they caught up.