Land of Smoke and Ashes

The Castle

He lead them down the crooked, dimly light stone hallway, and neither of them mentioned what had just happened, though Natalie couldn't help replaying it in her mind about a hundred times before they'd reached the palace kitchens. They swept by a few people on the way, but each time Sam merely nodded at them, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them to be touring about the palace, and Natalie followed suit. No one seemed to care much about a lone entertainer and a silk merchant wandering around the corridors.

"When we get there," Sam said. "I'll sort out of the stuff with the stone, you just concentrate on finding your mother. Just be careful who you show that photograph to, and how much you say. It's possible that most of the servants will be sympathetic to your plight, but some of them are bound to be loyal to her."

Natalie only nodded, swallowing hard. They had turned the corner and she could hear the clang of pots and pans and the murmur of voices. The smell of something baking had come drifting around them, and in spite of her nerves she could feel her stomach rumbling.

This was it. She was so close to finding her mother.

The kitchen doors were thrown wide open, and there were people bustling in and out, wheeling out double-deckered serving carts full of silver-domed trays. As they approached, several servants hurried past them. They were dressed all in black, with neat black caps covering their hair. Natalie darted a look at each of them as they went by, half expecting to see the tell-tale marks snaking up from their collars. Two men and a woman went by without any signs of the inky veins, and a bit of relief mixed in with the anxiety churning her stomach. She didn't want the magic nearby, to have to feel that tingle over her skin, that crawling sensation. She was already nervous enough.

They passed through the doors and into the kitchen, and Natalie tried to copy Sam's casual posture, though it felt like the entire place would hear her heart beating, even over the ruckus of the cook yelling, and the servants throwing dirty dishes into the wide sinks at the front of the counter. Nobody really paid much attention to them as they came in. The place was massive, about five times the size of Natalie's kitchen at home, and yet it felt crowded, there were so many servants rushing around, preparing for the feast. There was a huge, golden goose hanging on a spit over the flames, turned by a small, sweaty-faced servant, and the smell of roasting meat permeated the kitchens. A triple set of massive ovens lined the far wall, and there were several servants struggling to pull an enormous pan of bread out of the flaming hot insides of the one in the centre.

Natalie glanced around, blood pounding in her ears. Her chest felt tight, and drawing breath was becoming more difficult, though she wasn't sure if it was the sauna-like heat of the kitchen or her dread and excitement. She didn't recognize any of the servants, but a terrible thought had occurred to her: All she had to go on was the photographs she'd seen. What if her mother had changed so much that she wouldn't recognize her? What if Natalie was staring straight at her and had no idea?

Sam gripped her arm again, making her jump. When he leaned in his whisper was low and reassuring. "She might be back there." He nodded toward the back of the kitchen. "Come on."

There was a doorway just beyond the main activity. It was a second room, almost as large as the kitchen, with a pair of long wooden tables in the center. There were a great mix of people sitting there, both servants in white cook uniforms and men in black coats. Soldiers.

Natalie swallowed hard, but Sam's eyes glittered. "Use your stone if you can." He had to lean toward her so she could hear him over the clatter of cutlery and the chatter and laughter echoing around the room, and then to her dismay he broke away from her, moving toward the ends of one of the tables, settling himself into an empty space on the bench between two servants. The girl beside him turned and smiled at him, and Sam grinned back, raising his voice above the noise.

"Had to get some supper in me before the performance. I can't play on an empty stomach, right?"

Natalie had to shake herself so she wouldn't stand there gawking at his transformation. Of course he was good at this, Sam was a rebel and a spy. This is what he did. She scanned the table, her stomach churning, until she found an empty space between a freckle-faced serving girl and a soldier, and then forced herself to swing one leg over the bench, settling herself between them. The serving girl gave her a stony look, and Natalie blinked and looked away hurriedly. Thankfully the soldier on her other side seemed more friendly, giving her a grin and a wink.

"What you here for, darling?"

He smelled like sweat and sour beer. For a moment she only stared at him in alarm, before realizing what he meant. He didn't suspect her, he was just asking what role she was playing in the feast. "Oh," she stammered. "Uh, I'm a silk merchant, in town with my cousin. I'm just helping out at the stand."

"Well, pull up a plate." The soldier reached over the table and grabbed a thin metal plate from the stack in the center. He nearly upset a clay jug when he pulled back with it, and Natalie thought he looked a little tipsy. He certainly wreaked of alcohol.

She forced herself to smile at him when he set the plate in front of her with a clang. "Thanks." It was hard to look him in the eyes—pale blue and watery—instead of staring at the thick black ropes of magic crawling up his neck. It was unnerving, up close the black veins pulsed and moved slowly, and Natalie's stomach squirmed. She wasn't sure if she could eat anything with him sitting next to her.

"Jake," the soldier said, and Natalie realized he was introducing himself.

"Oh, uh." She couldn't give him her real name, didn't want to. So she blurted out the first thing she could think of. "Lucy. Good to meet you."

They shook hands, and Natalie let go as fast as possible, sure she could feel a strange sort of electric tingle when she touched his skin. The magic in him no doubt. She couldn't catch it, could she? What if it was like a cold or a flue? That didn't seem likely but the idea was unnerving.

"Lucy." He grinned, and his smile was closer to a leer than she was comfortable with. "That's a pretty name."

It was the name of her long dead pet, actually. A tabby she'd named when she was four years old. "Thanks. Are you excited for the feast tonight?"

Jake the soldier chuckled. "Not going to get much a feast, darlin'. Not me and my lads." He gestured at his companions across from him, who were all busy shoveling food into their faces or laughing and jeering at one another. "We're on duty."

"Oh, that's too bad." Natalie leaned back slightly, easing one hand into her pocket. The truth stone was small and gritty beneath her fingers. If she could just get him to look away long enough...she could slip it into the wooden mug he was clutching with both hands.

"What's a pretty lass like you doing as a silk merchant anyway?" Jake leaned sideways, tilting drunkenly in his chair, pressing his arm against hers. Natalie forced herself to keep her disgust veiled under a smile.

"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Surprised your not married and tucked away at home somewhere." He was still uncomfortably close, and now he winked at her. "You're not married, are you, love?"

She wanted to say yes, but she needed him off his guard. "No, not married."

When she glanced up, it was to see Sam watchingthem across the table. His gaze was fixed on Jake the soldier and it was dark.He looked like he was contemplating ripping his head off.