The Infernal Crown: Of Roses and Lies

Chapter 18

I didn't give myself a chance to think, to panic or to doubt, to consider the consequences as I layered on tunic after tunic and bundled myself in a cloak, stuffing the knife I'd stolen into my boot. The extra clothes in the satchel would just be a burden to carry.

Aslan. Aslan had come to take me—to save me. Whatever benefits Phoebus had given my family upon my departure hadn't been too tempting, then. Hadn't been too tempting to allow Aslan to know, let him venture into the faerie lands himself. Maybe they had a ship prepared to sail far, far away—perhaps they had somehow sold the cottage and gotten enough money to set us up in a new place, a new continent.

Aslan—kind, brave Aslan had come.

A brief survey of the ground beneath my window revealed no one outside—and the silent house told me no one had spotted Aslan yet. He was still waiting by the fountain, now beckoning to me with his arms. At least Phoebus had not returned.

With a final glance at my room, listening for anyone approaching the hall, I grasped the nearby trellis of wisteria and eased down the building.

I winced at the crunch of gravel beneath my boots, but Aslan was still beckoning to me, his eyes darting between the outer gates and myself. How had he even gotten here? There had to be horses nearby, then. He was hardly wearing enough clothing for the chilly spring night that would await us once we crossed that barrier. But I'd layered on so much that I could spare him some items if need be.

Keeping my movements light and silent, carefully avoiding the light of the moon pouring from above, I hurried towards Aslan. He moved with surprising swiftness toward the shadow behind the statue of the fallen angel, continuing to wave his hand frantically.

Only a few hall candles were burning inside the house. I didn't dare breathe too loudly—didn't dare call for Aslan as he slipped deeper into the shadow. If we left now, if he indeed had horses, we could be halfway home by the time they realised I was gone. Then we'd flee—flee Phoebus, flee from the Elders' crutches, flee the attacks that could soon invade our lands.

Damn the Elders, damn their plot. I would not give up this opportunity of freedom for a plan of revenge. It was better that we had a chance to leave this wretched island entirely, to start a new life on a new continent rather than play my luck at assassinating the Imperial Lords. Let the Elders sort out their problem, let them be the pawns of their game for once.

I shot a quick look at the gates. They were already open, the dark forest beyond enticing. Aslan must have hidden the horses deeper in. He turned toward me, that familiar face drawn and tight, those brown eyes clear like always, and beckoned. Hurry, hurry, every movement of his hand seemed to shout.

My heart was a raging beat in my chest, in my throat. Only a few feet now—to him, to freedom, to a new life—

A massive hand wrapped around my arm. "Going somewhere?"