Land of Smoke and Ashes

A Plan in Motion

It turned out that "breakfast" consisted of bread and cheese, and weak, watery tea. But Natalie hadn't expected much better from the pub, and it quelled the growling in her stomach. Kira laid out her idea while they ate. They would go in as merchants, into the open-air market.

"Here's the thing," she said through a mouthful of cheese. "We can't get into the palace on feast day unless we're invited, so...we need to figure out a way to get invited. But you know who will be invited? The queen's own personal vendors, they'll be in the marketplace too. I happen to know the woman who makes silks for her majesty. If we can get her to bring us on as her shop helpers..." Kira waved one hand in the air. "We can get you past the gates. Once you're inside, that's all you. Have you thought out how you're going to bust your mother out?"

Natalie's stomach dropped. She had not even gotten that far in her planning. Her only idea had been to go to Kira for help.

The princess must have seen her face drop, because she shook her head, smiling. "Hey, no sweat. You have a week to plan. We get in good with the vendor, I can get us in. Sound good?"
"Uh, yes. Listen, don't tell Sam, okay?" Natalie hesitated. "I don't think he'd like any of this."

"Oh, you don't have to tell me that." Kira grinned. "I don't fancy getting on the man's bad side."

Natalie chewed the stale bread without answering. It wasn't that Sam didn't want to help her, he had wanted to help her, he had taken her to Sera, and then Kira, all to try to find her mother. But he hadn't planned on the queen coming here. Sam seemed like the type who didn't improvise particularly well. Everything had to be carefully planned. That, she realized, is what leaders did. They planned things, gave orders, made sure everything was running smoothly. And she, Natalie, was an anomaly. She did not belong to his team, not really, and she had not been part of his plan.

She felt a little guilty for messing things up for him, but there was no way around it. She was doing this. He didn't have to come or put any of his crew in danger.

"Okay," she said to Kira "It's a good plan. When do we do this?"

"The first open air market is tonight, like the pirate king said." Kira stroked one finger across her pointed chin. "If I can get us merchant costumes soon enough, we might be able to do it tonight. I know Sam will be occupied, there's bound to a be a meeting of the—of his people." Kira flushed red, and Natalie was sure she'd almost said some kind of group name. The rebels, whoever they were. She didn't ask, since the middle of the shabby pub didn't seem like the best place to discuss this particular subject.

"Wait for me in the apartment," she said. "If I can, I'll come for you and you can say we're going to meet someone downstairs to find out more information about your mother or something." She shrugged. "I dunno, make up some kind of excuse. If Sam isn't there they shouldn't try to stop you. The others aren't nearly as uptight as he is."

Natalie snorted. If it was just Edward he would probably gladly escort her out and lock the door behind her. "I'll see what I can do."

"Good. See you tonight." Kira got up and slid a piece of copper across the bar to the bar tender, who took it with a grunt of acknowledgement and swept their dirty dishes off the bar.

Natalie found it incredibly hard to sit still through dinner that night. Nobody seemed to think it odd that Kira had gone, and Sam made some remark about her coming and going at all hours. At least she had the necklace back now. It had been strange going all morning without it. She kept glancing over at Sam during dinner, remembering his hand brushing hers last night, how close he'd sat in the dark. Her face felt hot just thinking about it. On top of that he had followed through with his promise to get Gwen to make her up some sleeping draught, and he had shown her how to blend the herbs together before poring hot water over the concoction, promising it would send her into sleepless dreams. She'd had trouble not studying his side profile as he'd crushed the leaves in the bowl, his head bent in concentration.