Fox’s Tongue and Kirin’s Bone

The courtyard was too well lit for his liking. Most of it came from atop the wall, where redcoats always stood watch, but lamps burned quietly from here and there and a little bit of everywhere. Just outside the stables, a lantern hung over a girl who nodded in and out of dreams, on duty all night in case of late messengers. Light spilled from the windows in the guard barracks, like embers lit around the base of the royal tower. He’d forgotten how much uptowners liked their lights. Bad as he was in the dark, he’d give anything for a strong wind to blow out each and every one.

Probably an unwise thought to have when a fey was granting his wishes.

Aaron eased himself out of the doorway and started around the side of the castle. He didn’t try to hide—there was no hiding if a guard looked down from their post. But he’d just come out of the kitchens, and from that distance, who was to say he wasn’t just a servant? He tried to move casually. Mostly, he tried to move towards an exit.

The main gates were closed and even more lit up than the rest of the place, besides. If he could find a servant’s door, though, maybe. Or someplace to hole up. He had food now, he could last a day or two. Long enough they might think him well and truly escaped. Might be an opening, then. Or—

A door opened in front of him. Light spilled out, catching the guardswoman’s smile as she tossed crude words back over her shoulder. She kicked the door shut with her foot, leaving both hands free for a last impolite gesture to those inside.

The door slammed shut on laughter.

Smiling still, Chereau turned.

Aaron hit her as hard as he could. Her head snapped to the side. Her body twisted back, falling. Then she was still. It seemed like it should have made some world-ending noise, like every eye on the walls should have turned towards them, but all he heard was muffled laughter through the closed door and the hammering of his heart in his ears.

They were between two buildings. Out of easy sight of the castle walls. Aaron hooked his elbows under the woman’s arms and dragged her, fast as he could, into deeper shadows. There was a wood pile here—good. He left her tucked on its far side.

After a moment’s thought, he stole her coat. It was a bit loose in the shoulders, but not a bad fit over his own. Warmer, too. More importantly: red. At a casual glance, especially from a distance, he’d look like just another rat catcher. Hopefully.

Now was a good time to walk faster.

The castle was smaller than he’d thought. Sitting at the center of the city, with its tower scraping at the sky, he’d always pictured it as being huge. It wasn’t. The council chamber was the bulk of it, easily four stories high. Then there was the castle attached to it, and the guard barracks, with the royal tower rising out of them. A few outbuildings, a few practical gardens, and that was all. It was bigger than any other uptown building, sure, but there were caves in the lower town that could swallow it whole and be no fuller. It was certainly no match for the old castle, sealed up in the heart of the lower town and left to be forgotten.

Before he’d even begun, he was almost back where he started. Chereau hadn’t been discovered yet, or they’d have that bell ringing after him. It was only a matter of time, though, until someone got suspicious of the guard who was making one round too many. There weren’t any likely spots to hide, either. That left him one choice: he had to get out. There were steps to the lower town close to here. Queen’s Stair was less than a block if he could get out the southern gate. There’d only been one guard there, if he remembered right. He’d chance the Raffertys over the Late Wake any day.

It was as good an aim as any. If he could catch the guard by surprise like he’d done with Chereau, if he could get out the gate quick enough to have a head start, if he didn’t get shot in the back running away—

There were two guards at the gate. Not one. Aaron almost altered his steps, almost kept walking like he’d never been headed there in the first place, but one of them was leaving already. The man came his way.

Aaron had recognized Chereau the moment she’d stepped out. Highlighted in the doorway, a few strands escaping from her tied hair, he’d known her the moment he saw her.

Lochlann, now. Lochlann recognized him first. Aaron was too busy nodding a casual greeting, trying to keep his shoulders straight and his pace even. By the time he saw the furrowing of the young lieutenant’s eyebrows, he was caught.

The guard drew his sword. Aaron stuck his hands in his pockets and closed his fingers around the hilt of the little carving knife. He met the good lieutenant’s scowl with a tight smile.

Up in the watchtower, someone sounded the alarm.