Breathing a sigh of relief, we slipped out into a scullery, where we snatched up a pair of shabby boots that were a little big but not enough to be a real problem. Then we passed through a doorway into a back courtyard, and from there to a kitchen garden, through a gate and onto a path that wound down to a large wooden building. ‘That’s the main boatshed,’ Kasper whispered. ‘There’ll be someone on guard there, but I’ll find a way. Stay here, behind this bush.’
I crouched there for what seemed like hours, my palms sweating, my heart beating so loud I was sure it could be heard. It was the first time I had been out in the open air for so long, and it was a shock. The night was dark. There was no moon – only stars, pricking the sky like tiny silver arrows, and the world suddenly felt so very big and I so very small with no stone wall of tower or cave to protect me.
Protect me? What was I thinking? Had my long years as a prisoner turned my insides to jelly and my mind to mush? I had escaped at last and here I was yearning for the prison again!
No, not the prison, my heart told me. I was yearning for a much older memory. Images of my father’s underground halls came flooding back to me. The deep lake that lies at the border of my lands, the beauty of the salt crystal caves, sparkling like stars, the muted light that is made part of shadow, part of golden glow, the little waterfalls like rippling silver hair, the humming industry of the salt mines, the brightness of the underground city, with its salt stone spires and towers and glasshouses full of flourishing crops, my people dancing like fireflies, and my splendid father, on his crystal throne, smiling as I played around his feet. Even the memory of the unpleasant creatures that skulked the darkness beyond our city, such as the carnivorous cave goblins, couldn’t blunt my longing.
I nearly screamed as a hand fell on my shoulder. ‘It’s only me,’ came Kasper’s voice. ‘I’ve found us a boat. Come quick.’
Kasper
I’m not the world’s best sailor, having never been to sea. But I do know about rivers and rowing, for at home everyone knows about that. On my way to the boatshed, I’d remembered an old rowing boat that people used sometimes for a spot of fishing, just off the island. I recalled, too, the last time I’d seen it, pulled up on the shingle on the far side of the shed. With any luck, there’d be no need to ask anyone anything, as long as the guards were inside the shed.
They were. The Angels were smiling on us that night. Cautiously, I made my way to where I’d last seen the boat. And there it was, complete. Though it was heavy, I had no choice but to carry it to the water; I couldn’t risk the noise dragging it would make. Carefully, I carried it right to the water’s edge and wedged it with a stone so it wouldn’t escape.
Then I hurried back to the Princess. When I touched her, she jumped and stared as though I were a demon come to claim her soul. The poor girl was as scared as a hunted deer. Looking at her then, so lovely with that flame-red hair and those wide green eyes, I knew that nothing we’d been told by our government made any sense. My whole world had shifted and would never be the same again. ‘It’s only me,’ I said gently. ‘I’ve found us a boat. Come quick.’
We hurried down to the strand, reaching the boat without incident.
Helping her aboard, I said, ‘Lie down in the stern and pull the cloak over you, Princess. I’ll push the boat out and jump in after.’
She did as I said, without question or hesitation. I pushed out the boat and waded alongside it until I was waist-deep in water, then I tumbled in. She was lying huddled in the stern of the boat, unmoving. From the island all that would be seen – if any eyes happened to glance our way – would be a single fisherman with what I hoped might look in the dark like a bundle of netting at his feet.
I set to with the oars and was soon pulling well out of sight of the boatshed, giving the main jetty on the mainland a wide berth. The only sound was of the swish and clap of the water.
Finally, we reached the mouth of the Fish River, which, if you followed it all the way up, led you into some of the wilder parts of the region, to the west of my own. Manoeuvring carefully into the current, I guided the rowing boat into the calmer waters beyond. The river was wide here but soon narrowed, flowing between high banks. All this time, the Princess did not move a muscle or make a sound. So still was she that I thought her asleep.
I had never felt less like sleep. I was wide awake. Every sense on high alert, every muscle straining, every beat of my pulse reminding me of the enormity of what I was doing – pitting myself against the Council, helping a prized prisoner to escape. I wondered how long it would be before they realised I, too, was gone. Despite my ruse, they’d soon put two and two together. And then they’d go hunting. We had a day to get ahead of them, no more.
I already knew where we’d go. Not to Fish-the-Moon, for that would be the first place they’d go looking. Not to the White City, with its swarms of informers. And nowhere near the Nightlands, for though the Princess was likely to want to go home, her father truly was our sworn enemy, and I was no traitor. Ha, that’s not what the Supreme Council will say when they find out what you’ve done, whispered a little voice in my mind. They’ll claim you were in league with him all along. Of course they won’t mention anything about killing an innocent. They’ve lied to the people for years. Why would they not lie again?
I brushed the little voice away. Now was not the time to ask myself such questions. Not a time to brood on the reason for their lies. Not a time even to wonder how they could imagine that the cold-blooded killing of a young girl could keep Krainos safe. No, I thought grimly to myself as I worked at the oars, the only useful thing I can ask myself right now is: Can I ensure we will get to our haven safely?
My thoughts were interrupted by the Princess’s whisper. ‘I’m all pins and needles. I must sit up.’
‘Do that,’ I said cheerfully. ‘There are a few cottages dotted about, but everyone should still be asleep. Not even a faint candle-gleam to be seen.’
The Princess flung back her cloak. Her red hair caught the starlight as she sat up gingerly and looked around. ‘Where are we?’
‘Heading up the Fish River,’ I said. ‘If that means anything to you.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not exactly an expert in the geography of your country.’
‘No,’ I said dryly, ‘of course you’re not. Well, all you need to know, really, is that where we’re heading, you’ll be safe.’
She looked at me with a startled expression in her eyes. ‘You mean, this is the way to my father’s lands?’
I met her eyes. ‘No. I cannot do that. I’m sorry.’
‘I’m not,’ she said, surprising me. ‘I mean,’ she added, looking away, ‘I would like to go home. But I can’t. Not yet.’
I was relieved but also a little puzzled. I’d imagined I’d have to argue the case for waiting. Part of me wanted to ask her questions. Another part knew she wouldn’t want to answer. ‘What I meant was that we’re going to a place that is safe from the people who will be coming after you.’
‘And you,’ she added softly.
‘Yes, and me. It’s safe because no one knows it exists.’