V.

Bargain

She dreamed of crystals and cut stones covering her body, prisms through prisms, rainbows catching light. They threaded through her hair and around her legs and in between her fingers, every color, bright like stormglow. They weighed on her and then they were drowning her, piled and pressing, pushing her down into a pool of hard glittering metal and glass with sharp edges that dug into her ears and against her mouth. They pushed against her eyelids so that she was sightless, though she could sense their colors and feel their shape. When she opened her mouth to scream the gems flooded her throat.

Astara woke with a gasp, her eyes opening to the flickering light on the wooden ceiling.

Flickering, she thought, listening to the crackling wood, because the fire is roaring.

And the shadows were many.

Heart thrumming with fear, she lifted her head up and then screamed at the sight of a man crouched right before her. She jumped back and covered her mouth as he held a lantern up to her.

"Shh," he said, his face hidden behind a wall of light. "Don't do that again."

Behind him there were several other figures standing—hovering around her in the firelight.

"Please," she tried to say, feeling sick as her eyes flitting across them all. Her voice sounded like packed sand in her throat. "Don't hurt me."

"Excuse us madam, but we're the aggrieved party here," one of the men said. He took a step forward into the light of the lantern, and Astara saw he was quite short, and would only come up to her waist. He studied her, the light catching the amber color of his beard. It was hard to tell his age. "This is our house."

Before she could respond a large, square man with a faceful of dark hair came forward and knelt at her side, grabbing the hem of her dress and pulling it close to inspect. "What do we have here, eh Teodor?" he said to the man with the lantern. Astara froze and held her breath as he appraised the material between his great fingers. "Real silk," he said, rubbing it upon his thumb. "Would fetch quite a penny in town." He let his eyes trail up toward her face. "And she's quite pretty and clean-looking."

"Nobility, then?" another man called behind them, someone she was unable to make out.

"Something more," said the man with the lantern—the one possibly called Teodor. As he lowered it, his left eye sparkled blue in the light. He was staring at the gold leaf on her bodice. "A princess."

The room exploded with talk around her, and Astara was sure she would faint. The large man released her dress and cursed merrily as she looked frantically around at the crowd, able to see them better as they argued about her in the firelight. They seemed to range wildly in age and appearance. One man in the back stood tall and thin above the others, watching silent as the conversation grew louder. Another was middle-aged and bespectacled, gesturing to another who was a slight boy likely her own age. They all dressed in common breaches, shirts, and jackets, but she couldn't guess what type of dress it was or what type of people they were, who lived so far up the mountain. She tried to make herself smaller as she trembled against the wall.

Teodor was still kneeling before her, and handed her the blanket she had cast off when she jumped. Astara took it, timid but quick, covering her dress and her body. In the soft firelight she saw he had short-cropped hair and was fairly clean-shaven. Upon his forearm there was some sort of scar.

"Are you the Princess Astara?" he said quietly, almost too low to hear.

Astara's stomach dropped. "Who," she said. "Who are you…"

"Sweetheart, 'fraid this is our house and we'll do the questioning around here," the large man said as he rose, now towering above her. In the orange light he appeared as an angel of menace. "Now answer the question."

Astara tried to still her shaking, and drew the blanket close around. "I," she tried, stuttering a few times. She gulped, looking at Teodor. "I am Astara of Callis North. My father—"

The larger man pumped his fist into the air. "Everlovin' jackpot! Finally, something to raise the bloody stakes."

Astara stopped, frightened as the chatter began again and she heard words like "goldmine" and "bargain." Did they mean to ransom her?

Teodor rose, and she saw that he was also tall, though not as much as the large man beside her. "Quiet, quiet!" he yelled over the noise. "Let her finish." The light fell over his bony, handsome face and with a shock she realized that one of his eyes was completely grayed over. Astara clutched the blanket and took a few deep breaths to still herself.

They all looked at her.

"I…" she began. What was she to say? "I was on the Hunt today…"

"Hunt?" the large man gruffed. Astara jumped.

"It's-it's a tradition…it's a hunt that takes place every year, you see—" She looked around at them again, trying to search for understanding. "I was separated from the group. And…and…"

They waited for her to go on. Astara put her hand over her chest and began to cry. "Someone in the party…a-a lord…he tried to kill me." She sniffled and felt the tears flood upon her face. "He said it was ordered by the queen…but he let me go. I was told to run away, I was told, I was told that if not, the queen would have me killed!" She was fully weeping now, and the room became blurry. She wiped at her eyes and covered them in her hands. "He said he was told to bring her back my eyes, or my heart!" Here her voice wavered, and she broke into uncontrolled sobs.

Apart from her crying the room was silent. She was picturing herself again with two holes in her head. She was picturing blood on her white dress.

After a moment, she was able to collect herself. She brushed her fingers across her eyes and tried to dry them, looking up at the group again. In the flickering shadows they were watching her, shock or concern upon their faces.

The little man took another step forward. "Hasn't the King remarried in recent years? This then is your stepmother, not the blood queen?"

"The blood queen died in childbirth," another said, the young man who looked her age. He cast a hasty glance at Astara, then lowered his eyes.

"Trouble in the kingdom proper," someone else in the crowd murmured in a deep, low voice. She realized it was the tall, silent man standing in the back, his hair and eyes black in the shadows as he approached. The contrasts of his dark features to his pale skin made him appear as though he were a wraith of winter as he towered above all the others. "Why did the queen want you killed?"

Astara shook her head. How could she tell these strangers the truth? Lord Abram had told her that the queen didn't want her to continue her father's legacy. But if they questioned why she would be ascending the throne now, they'd want to know the reason. And she didn't want to disclose her father's frailty to anyone. "I don't know why exactly," she lied. "She hates me."

"Men," the large one by her side called out over the ruckus. "Look at what's befallen us. The second Edict imminent, and the princess falls right into our lap. We may never get another chance if we don't take advantage."

Astara's chest felt like a hammer. So they did mean to use her somehow. And what did they know of the second Edict? She had thought its workings were under wraps. But Teodor stepped toward him, the shadows playing on his brow. "We're not kidnapping anyone, Derry."

"Like bloody hell we aren't, Teodor! This is leverage," the man said fiercely as he jammed his fingers into Teodor's shoulder. But Teodor grabbed his hand and twisted it off of him.

"Stand off me," he said as they stood nose to nose, staring each other down.

Astara gawked. Were they rebels of some sort? A chill crept up her spine. She noticed that the tall man in the back who had spoken had retreated against the wall, watching the scene with a shadow of detachment. Astara tried to plead with them. "I have strong cause to believe that there will be a search party from the castle looking for me all over the mountain. If I can just wait for them—"

Derry stepped back and spat. "She will lead her people right to us," he said, casting a dark glance her way. "They will snuff us out if we don't make the first move. They are rats in that way. Rats in gilded dwellings."

"And yet she came here because she was driven out, Derry," the young man behind them said, raising his voice. "When have we encountered a victim before and chosen expediency over what's right?"

"What's right?" Derry roared, looking around. "You're tetched. How do you even know she's telling the truth? She's one of them. Taking reconnaissance no doubt, a sweet princess with a sad tale, ready to send the Guard up here with our names in the Black Book—"

The room roared again with arguing as Derry shouted at the group in angry admonition. Astara rapidly tried to follow the conversation, clawing at her palms in fear. The one called Teodor was calling for order as the quarreling escalated. Was he their leader? Finally he picked up a fire poker and hurled it at the opposite wall as Astara jumped in fright. The talk quieted and their eyes fell over her again, each looking at her with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

"We'll give her a chance," Teodor said, looking back at her. "She was fleeing danger."

"If she is telling the truth, that is," another voice said, another young man by the fire who was filing a knife over his nails.

"Shaman wrote the rules," Teodor replied, glancing at the tall man in the back. "We shelter the less fortunate when we can. No matter who they are."

There was murmuring again, but lower, more loaded. Derry swore and shook his head.

"Besides," Teodor said, turning to her again as the shadows moved over him. "She can give us information. That is far more useful and less dangerous than any ransom."

Astara sat up, glancing at all of them. "What...what kind of information?"

Teodor's eye glittered. "The agenda for the second Edict. Everything you know about it. Where and how it will be deployed."

Astara went cold. The second Edict. To what end did this group desire the details of it? A fierce energy surged through Astara's heart. "I won't betray my father," she said, rising from the floor with her fists clenched, though her body shook with fear. "Who are you anyway to demand information from me?"

The room rippled again with fierce whispering as Derry snorted. Teodor's blue eye was shining brightly in the fireglow as he watched her. He smiled politely. "We are miners who work in the Marchess caves. We are simple, working poor. And we are men in the march against tyranny."

Astara crossed her arms and tried to appear brave. "And I suppose it would be my family who would be the tyranny, would it not?"

"Indeed," he said. "It is the royal family of Callis North who have caused hardships across the kingdom. The first Edict has been a cruel law for the land."

"My family…is not cruel," she said, more quietly.

"With all due respect, Your Highness," the man with the knife said, "you just said your stepmother tried to have you killed."

Astara shook her head. "She is not my family. My father doesn't know. He's—"

Teodor took a step toward her. He wasn't smiling anymore. "The king is not our priority. It is the coming legislation that we are organizing against. You may not know the devastation that the first Edict brought the kingdom. But the next Edict cannot come to pass. We have dedicated our lives to fighting back against it, and the destruction these decrees are designed to bring. And that is why we need you to tell us what you know. If you do so, you can stay here as long as you like," he said, gesturing at the room.

"And…and if I don't?" she asked, much quieter than she'd been.

The shadows of the firelight played across Teodor's arched brow. " Then we cannot help you, your Highness." He lowered his voice. "I would suggest choosing wisely. The others may not be feeling so generous."

Astara lowered her eyes, staring at the blanket at her feet. What were her options? The night outside was cold and uncovered. And if she made it back down the mountain, she couldn't go back to the castle alone. Not without protection. She could possibly make it to a town, but where that would be and what to do once she got there—she was at a loss.

On the other hand, these men were some sort of rebels against her father. She could hardly stay here with them, especially when there had just been talk of kidnapping. And what if their intentions were even worse? They had made it clear to her that they thought the Edicts he had codified were harmful. Surely it must have crossed their minds to use her in such a way to get back at him. What was she to do?

"I need…" she said slowly. "I need just a few days. To see if there is a search party. If not, I will find a way to town. I can…find someone there who will help me." She looked up at them, her cheeks red. "I will tell you what I know about the second Edict on the condition that my father will not be harmed by you, or anyone here." Her gaze fixed on Teodor. "Or anyone outside of here who may be working with you. He…he is not a bad man, whatever you think."

Derry snorted and cursed, but Teodor nodded. "You have had a rough day," he said. "We will meet tomorrow to discuss, when we return from our work in the mines." But he said no more on the subject.

A few of the men vacated a small room upstairs for her. Teodor gave her a candle and brought the blanket up. The men spoke little to her, and she disappeared as quickly as she could behind the door.

She stood in the room, looking at it in the candleglow. For the most part it was sparse, with a small window overlooking the southern expanse of the meadow. Astara lifted it and reached her arms out into the air, feeling the chill of the night upon her skin. The window was in the front of the house, facing toward the castle. Would Edwain have made it back by now? Would her father have been alerted? Her heart cried and she let herself weep gently as she watched the web of stars over the night sky. With everything that had happened to her in the last several hours, she longed to simply hold his hand again.

There was a soft knock at the door. Astara wiped her tears quickly and picked up the candle, hesitating at the small, foreign space before her. The entire room was only four paces or so, but she seemed to feel swallowed by it. She stared at the bolt, then crept toward the door and opened it a crack.

Teodor was outside, proffering a mug to her. "Sage water," he said, staring at her closely. She was caught again by the contrast of his gray eye to his blue one, and she lowered her gaze. She wondered if he saw the trace of tears on her face. "It's warmed by the fire," he said. "And there is water below in the kitchen. More tomorrow after we draw from the well."

"Thank you," she said, taking the mug from him. Its heat fled through her fingers, replacing the chill from the outside. Coloring, she realized he must have seen that she had already drank from the barrel and that their bread was missing. Her heart was beating fast. "Am…am I really free to leave when I want?" she asked, looking up at him again.

Teodor nodded. "You have our word," he said.

Astara breathed deeply. "I'm sorry to ask. And…thank you for your hospitality. I was rude to barge in. It was just…the talk downstairs…"

"You must forgive our manners, Your Highness," he said, taking a step back and lowering his head in a bow. "We rarely receive visitors here, let alone royal ones. They were excited, but that is not our way." He smiled slightly. "I'm sure in the light of day their manner will be much improved."

Astara nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She was thinking of Edwain. "If...there is no search party, in a few days…if they can't find me…" She stared into her mug. "I will think of a way to contact someone…someone I trust from Callis North."

Teodor nodded politely. "Get some sleep, princess," he said. "It's been a long day." He bowed his head once more and retreated down the hallway.

Astara locked the bolt again and sat staring at the wall for a long time, noticing a rose pattern on a tacked-up square of paper. In the candlelight it looked as though it were dancing.

That night she dreamt of ravens.