Thanks again for all the reviews! Black Knight 03, I didn't even think about having them encounter their doubles…that would have been interesting, to say the least! I wonder who they would've been....Caz, I'm so glad you like Zev enough to worry about him. :) Don't fret, all shall be revealed! Lara783, more Gordo to come and a little bit more of the city, too. :D MP, "Zephyr" is Gordo's middle name, but I think its source is actually a Greek deity, one of the minor ones. At any rate, among other definitions, it's a gentle breeze or the West Wind...and one of my favorite words. ;) Elise Foster, I remind you (even occasionally) of Ursula LeGuin? All right! Thank you! (Um, yes, I have read her Earthsea trilogy...which is currently being made into a miniseries, actually.) pixievix is back, pixievix is back! And just in time for more Gordo, too. Hmmm.... swim6516, how can I compete with mudfootball, let alone college? I'll take a review whenever you can spare one, luv. Yeah, mandarino, that was a mean cliffie. Sorry. No more, I promise. At least, I think I promise. ::evil laugh:: PaLM TRee 101, I thought maybe the cliffhanger would push people over the edge into fruit-violence, but thank you for the support! :D Thank you, Therantas; and, yeah, I adore color words. For me, they establish the feel of a setting almost better than description, so I reach for the more exotic ones when a place feels exotic to me. Don't know if it works for anybody else, though. :)

Chapter 19: The Rebel Princess

She couldn't move.

Were it not that she knew she must still be breathing, she could easily believe herself more stone than the Judith statue beside her.

Gordo, she thought, and her quiet-working lungs gave a conspicuous hitch. As though reminded they truly weren't stone, her knees immediately gave way. Only a palm slapped against the statue kept her from sagging to the street.

And then Gordo was there, at her side, eyes deeply blue as they met hers from beneath a shaggy mop of dark curls. She didn't want to look away, but her gaze flickered out of her control, skimming the smooth arch of his eyebrows, tracing the whorl of an ear, the taut, solemn line of his mouth, catching on the wiry breadth of his shoulders, and snarling in the windblown lines of his clothing until her fingertips tingled with the urge to touch him.

And then he touched her, one hand gripping her elbow, its solid warmth lapping up her arm in slow waves to glow, steady, disconcerting, in the center of her chest. It was all she could do not to leap away from him.

It was all she could do not to throw her arms around him.

She blinked, tilted her head, realized he was speaking to her.

"Are you all right, Liz?" she heard over the thunderous pound of her heart. She blinked again, licked her lips, opened her mouth to say—what?—and closed it again, her eyes seeking his in utter confusion. She watched as they darkened into yet a deeper blue and wasn't at all startled to feel his other arm come around her waist, his hand sure, supportive against the small of her back. And then it seemed the most sensible thing to step toward him on her so-shaky and very flesh-and-blood knees, to slide her arms around his neck, to lay her face in the curve of his shoulder as his arms closed around her.

For a long moment they stood like that, joy rising sharp in Lizzie's throat. Surely, she marveled, drawing deep breaths of his scent, undeniable even beneath some foreign spice, surely she had always felt this way around him. As though the world sharpened, brightened. As though she gained depth and dimension and purpose, every part of him anchoring her more deeply into herself. And such a surfeit of emotion—gratitude, elation, peace jumbling with fear and panic and need. How could she not have realized long, long ago that she loved him?

Letting loose a soft, slow sigh, she murmured into the dark pocket of Gordo's shoulder, "What are you doing here?"

He chuffed against her ear. "I heard you scream. Where else would I be?"

Home, Lizzie thought but shook her head as she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. "I mean, what are you doing in Aderet?"

"What else?" Gordo chuckled, his thumb sweeping absently along her spine; the delight curling out from the touch nearly made her shiver. "Waiting for you."

"But how did you know I'd be here?" she frowned.

"Arevhat told me. She reappeared a few hours after sunset that same day you both left. Believe me, I was furious you weren't with her, but then she told me to take the carpet and fly here. Gave me some pretty good directions, actually—including where to find the carpet again—and told me you'd join me here in a few days. I wasn't sure where you'd be, precisely, but since I was again knee-deep in a fairy tale, I figured this was the likeliest place."

There were so many questions, Lizzie didn't even know where to start. "But," she finally settled on, "Arevhat said you were gone. I mean, right away. We hadn't gone but a few feet away from you when she said you were gone—"

"I was," Gordo interrupted. "I mean, to you I would have been gone. You and Arevhat disappeared from my sight almost immediately. So, if you'd looked back, I don't think I would have been there. But I was still in the same place, standing on the hill where we watched the sun rise."

Oh. The beauty of that morning, the comfort of his presence, the ache of farewell again swept over her, and she shook her head slightly. Yet another moment when she should have realized how very much she loved him. "Even so," she went on, "the mother of the Sun insisted she didn't know where you were. But she must have been the one to tell Arevhat what to say to you. I can't imagine that Arevhat knew the next stop on our quest. Otherwise there wouldn't have been any need to seek the goddess at all." Except, maybe, in order to have her little Gordo revelation. But there was no way she was going to share that reasoning.

"True," Gordo was saying. "Is it possible, though, that by the time the mother of the Sun spoke to you, she may not have known where I was?"

It was entirely possible, but not very probable. The goddess's domain was the air. If Gordo was on the carpet, in the air, the mother of the Sun should've known where he was. But, Lizzie considered, if the goddess had told her where he was, Lizzie would've spent these past few days very, very differently....

And she really didn't want to go down that road. Particularly since she had a pretty good feeling that pondering the unfathomable mysteries of the goddess's motives would be futile at best. Never mind.

"That must be it," she answered Gordo. Then, with a faint smile, "So what's this about being knee-deep in a fairy tale?"

His answering smile nearly stole her breath. "Ah, yes. Another part of my instructions. I'm staying with the King of Jagur." He dipped his head in the direction of the very female Judith's statue and winked. "I figured since I was with one half of the star-crossed lovers, you'd come into town with the other half. And that half, if running true to fairy tale form, would have to see the statue sometime."

"So you know the fairy tale?" Lizzie asked, fingers tightening in the fabric of his tunic. He nodded. "Do I need to go rescue Zev, then, or is he all right for now?"

Gordo's forehead folded. "Was that why you were screaming? The guards came for Zev?"

She nodded. "I didn't know why they were taking him. All he was doing was kneeling in front of the statue, trying not to cry. He's all right, though? 'Cuz if he's not, I need to send a message to his ship, and we need to figure out how to get him off this island."

"No," Gordo said, still frowning. "He's all right. He's fine." Slowly, his arms withdrew from around her, and Lizzie realized how long they'd been standing there, still in their sort of half-embrace. Despite feeling more than a little foolish—and hoping desperately that she hadn't been obvious—she couldn't quite restrain a shiver as his warmth drained away.

Gordo didn't seem to notice. "The king," he was saying, "ordered a statue of, er, himself put at the gate to the city, then decreed that anyone found crying at the sight of it should be taken to the palace dungeons. Judith was hoping that the 'anyone' would be Zev someday."

Lizzie grinned. "So, from the dungeons, they'll be reunited."

"Exactly. But with all that joyous reuniting going on, it'll be a lot more difficult to get a moment with Judith—which we definitely need if you're gonna stay with me. So do you think we can exchange our stories on the way to the palace?" He didn't even wait for an answer before clasping her hand and starting down the street. Lizzie, dazed at the swift warmth accompanying his touch, could only tighten her fingers around his and try to listen as Gordo shared the details of his journey.

It sounded fairly uneventful. Arevhat had given him simple directions to get him to Aderet and a lock of her hair to gain him entry to the palace. "Which," he laughed, "Judith greeted with a grimace. Somehow, I feel sure they've met before." Lizzie, remembering Zev's tale of the school for royalty, laughed too. Still, he told her, the hair did its job, and Gordo had spent the last few days keeping the King Judith company, traveling down to the statue during the day and back up to the palace at night.

"I was just leaving, actually, when I heard you calling for help," he explained. "So that's why I wasn't loitering around the guards. But what about you? What's your journey been like?"

So Lizzie launched into an abridged version of the past few days, sans her Love-Gordo epiphany, her agonizing over what to do about it, and her conversation with Zev concerning it. She did tell him, most particularly, about the goddess's quest instructions, though.

"So, we just wait until Zev and Judith are slightly less overcome with gratitude and joy, and ask them this crane-human's whereabouts. Then it's off for the Dragon King and then, finally, home." Lizzie didn't need to see his smile to know it was there.

Which was fortunate, because she really couldn't see much of anything. Dusk had fallen at last, rapidly deepening into night, and the torches marching alongside the street offered only fitful, sputtering light. She wondered how much further they had to walk to reach the palace.

"Ah," came a voice out of the shadows ahead of them, "so you are come at last! We were beginning to wonder if you had decided to spend your night in the city."

"Had you luck today?" Another voice, female, and then Lizzie could distinguish a flash of metal in the torchlight.

"As you see!" Gordo called back, raising the hand that held Lizzie's. "I was slightly delayed, but in the best possible way." There was a burble of excited congratulations, but Lizzie didn't bother to distinguish them. She was too busy looking at the two people stepping out of the shadows. Dark-haired, dressed in black, they would have been invisible against the dark street were it not for the pale oval of their faces, the glittering blade of a long knife at their waists, and, picked out in white thread, the guards' stylized wave on their tunics.

"Lizzie," Gordo's voice drew her back, "this is Rafel and Ara." Gordo's hand indicated first the man, only slightly taller and wider than his companion, then the woman; both wore their long hair up in a tightly-looped topknot. "They're what the natives call Water Guards. They're the ones who've been ferrying me to and from the palace everyday."

"We have heard much of you," Ara said, smiling. "And we are very glad that your friend has found you."

"Indeed," Rafel laughed, "for I am become tired of seeing his face each morning and night." He leaned closer to Lizzie, "There are much fairer faces I would rather see in a day's duty."

Ara plucked at her partner's sleeve, laughter gleaming in her eyes. "And such a pity that the closest you shall ever get to them is in your day's duty." Without waiting for Rafel's sputtering to form into words, she went on, bowing slightly to Lizzie. "Truly, we are honored to meet you at last."

"Thank you," Lizzie bowed back.

"Shall we go to the palace now? It is soon dark, and the water is always more difficult to navigate at night." At Gordo's nod, Ara turned, snagged Rafel, and led the way along the street. After a few steps, Lizzie realized that the Water Guard was heading further into the valley, not up out of it to where the palace perched atop the cliff.

"Where are we going?" Lizzie whispered to Gordo. "Isn't the palace up there?"

Gordo slowed just a little. "Yes," he murmured back, "but there's another entrance down here, under the waterfall. It's just getting to it that's a little tricky. The Water Guards work guarding the river and the harbor—and a few work alongside the city guards defending the palace's main entrance. They're all skilled boaters, but the best of them are sent down here to ferry people to and from the waterfall entrance."

Lizzie nodded, frowned. "It sounds...wet."

Gordo choked on a laugh. "Oh, it is. Believe me, it is."

The truth of which Lizzie quickly discovered. The Water Guards' boat, shallow-drafted and almost too short and narrow to accommodate all four of them, was only a brief walk away, moored in the small lake at the waterfall's base. Lizzie was guided to the only seat in the middle of the craft, where Gordo joined her, and then Ara and Rafel were leaping lightly to their places in the bow and stern and shoving off.

The little boat skirted the lakeshore as much as possible, but that did little to protect its passengers from either the dousing mist or the deafening roar of the falls. Lizzie, not a little disturbed at the bucking of the boat beneath her, found Gordo's hand, grasped it hard, and fixed her eyes on the mighty sheet of night-blackened water pounding from the cliff top. Slowly, inexorably, it grew closer, larger, louder until all she could hear was ceaseless thunder, all she could see water like polished onyx and glittering eddies of spray. Were it not for Gordo's hand, now firmly returning her pressure, and the chill wet penetrating her clothes, she would almost believe herself just another part of the waterfall.

And then, somehow, they had passed behind it, their way lit by faint-glowing orange lanterns spaced along the cliff face. Within moments, the boat bumped against a short stone dock, where more Water Guards waited to help them disembark and then, once the boat was empty, lift the small craft out of the water entirely. The other guards swiftly disappeared back into a shadowy cave, but Ara and Rafel stayed with Lizzie and Gordo, gesturing meaningfully to one another—no doubt a sort of silent speech for use behind the falls—before turning to lead the way again.

Rather than guide them into the cave where the other guards had gone, Ara and Rafel started along a narrow, ill-lit path winding in switchback after switchback up the nearly sheer cliff. There were guards stationed at intervals along the path, practically hidden in the darkness, and Lizzie realized with a start that the waterfall entrance was halfway up the cliff face, not inside the cave. It was rather a brilliant place for an entrance, actually, especially as any enemies wishing to storm the backdoor of the palace would have to come up one at a time, carefully picking their way along the cramped track, as the guards attacked from the switchbacks above.

Still, for a mere guest making her way peaceably, it was a bit of a hike. By the time the Water Guards finally stopped ahead of them, Lizzie's legs ached, her head a little muddled from the path's dizzy back and forth. Through hazy eyes, she watched as Ara and Rafel greeted the guards standing at the heavy stone door with more of their gesture-language. Then, with a hand each to first Gordo's then her shoulder, their guides bid farewell and disappeared back down the cliff.

At Gordo's squeeze of her hand, she turned back to find the ponderous stone door rolling open with surprising speed. Beyond was a bare, torch-lit tunnel, beads of water gleaming on the walls. It looked rather uncomfortably like a tomb but the air was crisp, and when Gordo stepped forward, she allowed him to lead her inside, even managing not to shudder as the door clanked shut behind them.

Almost immediately, there was silence—so sudden, so complete that it was almost as deafening as the waterfall. Indeed, Lizzie grasped at the thread of their breathing just to be certain she wasn't deaf.

"Not too awful?" Gordo whispered, turning to face her.

She shook her head, immediately grasping what he meant. "A little harrowing, but I'm glad I did it." She grinned. "Still, I can't quite believe you did that twice a day for the past few days."

He grinned back. "All in a good cause." His hand released hers to pull at a soaked snarl in her hair. "We'd best get you dry, though. You're not in prime form for an audience with the king, but I don't think...eh, he'll mind. Come on." His hand recaptured hers and he started down the tunnel at a swift clip.

Lizzie rapidly lost track of the turns and twists he followed, especially as they ascended staircases into more elegant areas of the palace. The walls were still stone, but now washed in the same bright pastels as the city houses. The floors began to gather vibrantly colored woven rugs, the torches turning into ornately sconced candle lamps. The ceilings rose and large, heavily carved wooden doors emerged in the hallway.

At last, Gordo slowed his pace, walking softly to a narrow door where he paused and looked first up the hall, then down. There was no one in sight, and Gordo eased the door open, a finger to his lips, and ushered Lizzie in, closing the door behind them.

Wherever they were, it was dim, and at first Lizzie couldn't quite see. Then, eyes adjusting, she realized they stood in a small room, furnished with a few padded stools and one large armchair. Another door stood opposite this one, open a crack to allow a long bar of faint orange-tinted light to spill inside.

Gordo slipped around in front of her, leaning close to whisper, "This is one of the king's private chambers. There are several that open off the great hall, where Judith conducts business. She uses them to rest or deliberate a decision or occasionally meet with her people privately. Each one is covered by a wall hanging so we should be able to open the door and slip mostly unnoticed into the hall."

With that, he opened the door on a swath of vibrant orange fabric and led the way, back flat to the wall, out from under it. A stern-faced guard stood watching them emerge, but merely nodded to Gordo and immediately returned his gaze to the great hall. Sighing faintly in relief, Lizzie swiped soggy, mussed strands of hair from her eyes and did the same.

It was a large room, but not quite what Lizzie would expect of a great hall. The ceiling was high, certainly, and the room longer than it was wide, but it wasn't at all the immense echoing chamber she'd envisioned. Which wasn't to say it lacked drama. Not at all. The walls were unpainted, jet-black island stone, as was the highly polished floor, and hanging at intervals around the room were long banners of vivid cloth. There were several in saffron yellow, a handful in crimson, and a few more the same orange as the one they'd entered through.

At the back of the hall stood a pair of very tall, very wide wooden doors, while at the front of the hall three narrow windows slashed the wall. Below them, two shallow steps above the floor, was a dais, a graceful, grandly proportioned chair of some glossy, many-hued wood centered on it. That, Lizzie had no doubt, was the throne.

And in front of the throne, staring regally out at the small crowd in the great hall, stood Judith.

She looked very like the statue, dark hair pulled up in the same tightly looped topknot, a masculine circlet of gold set with glassy black onyx on her brow. She wore tunic and trousers in startling white, a black sash low on her hips effectively hiding her waistline. She didn't have a sword, but considering all the city guards gathered around the edges of the room, Lizzie supposed she didn't need one.

There was almost no sound in the great hall, every pair of eyes fixed forward. As Lizzie crept closer behind Gordo, she realized that while many people watched the King of Jagur, some of them watched the three men kneeling on the ground bracketed by guards.

One of them was Zev.

"Just in time," Gordo breathed almost soundlessly in her ear.

"Who are the other men?" Lizzie whispered back, not quite so silently. A few people around them speared glares at her.

"Right, brief history of Judith's adventures. After stopping at that island with Zev, she was found by a pushy merchant's son who wanted to marry her. He took her home, but she tricked him and his sailors into getting off the ship, which she promptly stole. While sailing back to the island, she was blown off course to another island. The king there fell in love with her, of course, and sent the eleven daughters of his most powerful lords to be her ladies in waiting. The ladies, hearing her story of lost love, agreed to help her escape the king and sailed off with her. Their fathers, finding out their daughters had disappeared, dethroned and banished the king.

"Meanwhile, Judith and her crew were attacked by pirates. Not surprisingly, the pirates were swiftly tricked and disposed of, leaving their treasure to Judith and the ladies, who then disguised themselves as men and did a little bit of pirating themselves. While doing so, they came upon a young king who fell overboard from his ship. Judith tried to save him, but only succeeded in bringing his body back aboard. Still, the king's counselors were so impressed with her bravery that they asked her to be the new king—Jagur's king. You know all about the statue, but the men who recognized it—and had reason to cry—were Zev, of course, the merchant's son, and the dethroned king. And we're here just in time for the best part."

"This is the best part?" asked Lizzie, incredulous. Damn, Judith had been busy these past five years. Not that Lizzie was all that surprised, considering the woman was Miranda's alternate. Only Miranda could get into so much trouble and then manage to get right out of it again.... A chuckle escaped before she could clamp it down, and this time several of their neighbors actually hissed at her.

"Sorry," she mouthed, and obediently turned her attention to Judith and company.

The King of Jagur was pacing slowly in front of the kneeling men, her hands on her hips. "I have heard your stories," she announced, "and shall render justice, as is my due." She paused before the third man—the deposed king. "Rise." The guard standing beside the king yanked the man to his feet. "You were banished," Judith declared in tones that reached to the farthest corner of the hall, "because the eleven ladies pledged themselves to me. If they wish, they may go home with you now and return to their families. Your counselors will be happy and in their joy they will reinstate you."

Immediately, a clamor rose in the hall, a gaggle of somberly dressed young ladies on the far side of the crowd clapping their hands and giggling and chorusing their agreement with this solution. The king and the eleven ladies were led away through one of the doors hidden behind an orange hanging. Silence settled again over the room.

The king now stood in front of the merchant's son. "You were banished by your father because you lost your ship and its cargo. Here in Aderet Harbor your ship still awaits you, its hold filled with goods several times more valuable than what you lost. Go." And at a wave of her hand, a guard came to escort the stammering, bowing merchant's son out yet another hidden door.

Now only Zev remained. Without waiting for the guard's assistance, he rose slowly to his feet. A long, long moment he stood there, staring at Judith while Judith stared back. And then, her hands visibly trembling even from where Lizzie stood, the king lifted the crown from her head, handed it absently to the startled guard, and unwound the black cloth securing her severe topknot. Pulling her hair down to frame her face, she paused, drew a deep breath, and launched herself into Zev's arms, mouth locking to his in a kiss so fierce and raw it almost hurt Lizzie to watch.

But watch she did as one kiss became several and the room erupted into chaos. Women screeched and fainted, men paled, livid, or shouted in outrage. Next to her Gordo was laughing and Lizzie realized she was laughing too, so hard her stomach hurt and she could barely stand up. Leaning against Gordo, she managed to gasp in between guffaws, "Trust Miranda to expose herself in the most flamboyant, outrageous way possible."

Gordo wheezed back, "At least she took her hair down!"

Lizzie nodded and looked back to the still-embracing couple. They'd stopped kissing, at least, but they held onto one another so tight it might as well be a kiss. It was nearly impossible to tell where one ended and the other began, and the sight tightened Lizzie's throat. She was so glad they'd found one another again. And to see they still loved one another after all these years.... Lizzie blinked the sheen of tears from her eyes.

Still, if they didn't take control of the situation pretty damn soon, they'd have a murderous mob on their hands. Shoving forward to the front of the crowd, Lizzie cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, "Zev!" in as crisp and sharp a manner as possible.

He snapped around with gratifying speed, eyes drifting an instant before locking on hers. His mouth widened in a wicked, beaming grin that Lizzie reflexively returned even as she gestured significantly at the shocked, indignant people around her. He nodded, turned to whisper in Judith's ear, and finally, very reluctantly, pulled away to stand behind the King of Jagur.

"Silence!" he roared, voice at full-strength, piercing-hurricane-winds volume. Silence fell. Like a rock.

"People of Aderet," Judith spoke into the stillness, "I apologize for deceiving you as I have. For I am not, as you thought, Jemith the pirate king. I am Judith, daughter of Emperor Neas, crown princess of the great country of Lachi. This man is Zev, son of King Ri, crown prince of Aulis, and my betrothed. We were separated nearly five years ago and have been long in searching for one another. As you understand, I can no longer stand as your king. I shall thus leave you to decide my successor. Again, I am sorry." With a deep bow, Judith stepped back under Zev's arm and the two made their slow way toward the same little room Lizzie and Gordo had used.

Lizzie turned just as Gordo appeared in front of her. "Come on," he murmured, "if we don't catch them now—"

"—we'll never catch them," Lizzie finished, nodding. Linking her fingers with his, she set off after the just-disappearing couple. "You were right about one thing," she said as they reached the hanging. Gordo raised a questioning eyebrow as he lifted the orange cloth. "This was definitely the best part!" Gordo only laughed as the hanging fell, blessedly muffling the fast-growing commotion in the great hall behind them.

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end of chapter 19

Chapter Notes:
The version of "The Rebel Princess" I used here can be found in The Serpent Slayer: and Other Stories of Strong Women, retold by Katrin Tchana, illustrated by Trina Schart Hyman.