Bloodleaf (Bloodleaf 1)

I put on my blue cloak and swept the items on the table into my satchel before depositing a chunk of bread and a stoppered cruse of water alongside them. It was completely dark outside, but I found Zan’s hidden stairs with ease, climbed them all the way to the top of the wall, and made my way down the walk. Not north this time but south, toward the gibbets. I passed Forest Gate first, skirting the narrow walkway at the base of the statue of the three women. This was the nearest I’d been to them, and they were e

ven more stunning up close. The first was youthful and lithe, the second bore the soft curves and swelling stomach of a mother-to-be, and the last was knobby and bent with age, like a weathered tree.

The air was cool and clear now that the rain had finally stopped. Rainwater had collected in several places on the roads below, reflecting the waxing moon like scattered shards of a broken mirror. I was grateful for the damp smell left behind by the moisture; it covered up some of the stench of death that began to pervade the air as I came upon the gibbets.

The gibbets were spaced between High Gate and Forest Gate, hanging from hooked chains and spread every fifty feet. The first two housed men who were recently dead, men who’d probably been injured in the struggle to stick them in the gibbets. They’d bled out in their cages. The third gibbet held only bones and a hollow-eyed spirit that was slumped despondently among its remains. When it saw me, it threw itself against the bars, snarling and snapping its teeth, straining toward me with bony fingers. I shivered and passed it by.

At the fourth gibbet I slowed to a stop and leaned out over the notched battlement. I was greeted by the gaze of a living man. His mouth was still stuffed with the gag, but his eyes were bright. I tried to count how many days had gone by since Petitioner’s Day. Two? Three?

“Ray? Raymond Thackery?” I said into the dark, and he slowly nodded.

“I have food and water. Without it, you’ll die. You’ll have another few days if you’re lucky. Do you understand?”

A nod.

“I need a message delivered. To Renalt. It is of the utmost importance, and it requires absolute secrecy. There will be a great reward in it for you. A monetary reward as well as safety and asylum in Renalt. Do you understand the risks?”

A nod.

“Is this something you would be willing to do?”

Another nod.

“Good.” I went to the pulley and turned the crank wheel. It creaked stubbornly as I reeled the gibbet in inch by inch, straining every muscle and dragging on the wheel with all of my weight. The heart and lung complaints I’d absorbed from Zan had long since subsided, but by the time the gibbet finally came swinging over the top of the battlement, I was sweating and panting anyway. Two more cranks, and it was to where I could reach it.

There was a lock on the gate, and Thackery watched as I jammed my little knife into it and worked the latch until it gave and the door swung free. He was trembling as I helped hoist him down. He sank against the battlement

I untied his gag. “Here,” I said, unstopping the bottle of water to hand it to him. “Drink this. Careful, now. Careful.”

“They will . . . will kill you . . . if they know you helped me.” Thackery wheezed as he wiped the water from his mouth. “And it will be unpleasant. There’s a reason folks don’t just bust out every family member what gets hung up in a cage.”

“I’m not afraid of the king.”

Between gulps, he said, “The king is stupid, but he has a certain creativity when it comes to makin’ folk suffer. And there are plenty o’ people who exploit his stupidity and capitalize on his particular brand of creativity. Oughtta be afraid of them, too.”

“Consider me warned.” I gave him the bread next. “Eat slowly or you’ll be sick.”

Between large bites, he asked, “What message am I to carry, and to where?”

“Just this.” I took out a paper, folded and sealed and addressed to Lord Fredrick Greythorne, Kellan’s older brother. It recounted everything—?what Toris had done in the woods, how Lisette was living in the castle under my name, how Conrad was unhurt but seemed to be going along with the charade. The last thing I included was my belief that Kellan had escaped, injured, and that he was probably recovering in one of the villages outside the Ebonwilde. I had signed it with my own name, marveling at how foreign it felt to use it.

If Fredrick could find Kellan, his story would corroborate my written account and provide proof of Toris’s treachery. Likely, we could link his efforts to insinuate himself into Achleva with the Tribunal’s takeover, and charge them all with treason. Mother could take back her crown, and then . . . they could come for Conrad and me. We’d be saved.

“You’ll need to take this to Lord Fredrick Greythorne. Deliver it to him and no one else, understand me? His land is in the western Renaltan province. You’ll save time if you go by boat and take port in Gaskin. From there it will be about four days’ walk.”

“One problem.” Thackery stopped his ravenous chewing. “How am I going to pay for boat fare? They robbed me of everything when they took me. And how will I eat, for that matter? A man’s got to eat.”

I pursed my lips, wondering if I should remind him that up until five minutes ago he was going to starve to death in a gibbet. But I thought better of it and said instead, “Here. This should buy you boat fare and a little bit of food besides.” It was the last of my treasures—?the golden chain of my charm bracelet. Another piece of myself I was forced to surrender. “Don’t stop. Don’t dawdle. Time is of the essence. Now let’s get you off this wall,” I said. “Quickly, now, before anyone comes.” I tried to help him to his feet, but he was too weak to stand.

“I can’t help you . . . in the condition I’m in. I’d already be . . . dead if it wasn’t for the rain. Sucked it out of the gag.” He swallowed and said, “I’m useless to you, girl. Might as well put me back in the cage. Better that way. Gilroy would miss me too much, anyway.”

“Quiet,” I commanded. “I’ll do no such thing.”

I gave myself another little cut with the luneocite knife and then placed my hand in Thackery’s. “Give it to me,” I said, just like I had to Zan in the tower.

But with Zan I’d acted instinctively and emotionally. This was different. I did not know or care for this man. I could not make the same connection.

But I had to. Time was running out. This was my chance—?probably my only chance—?to undo some of what had been done to me. Anger and impatience bubbled inside. “Give it to me, damn it!”