Recap: In Chapter 8, Sage parted ways with the Iron Mountain Riders to resume his search for Aspen.
After the coronation, Chancellor Basil seemed to direct all his spare thought and energy toward making life in the palace miserable for Lavender and Marigold. Both Sir Hadmore and King Ernor had forgiven Marigold’s momentary lapse of sanity, but Basil would not. He required an escort from the matron’s staff to be with them at all times, taking them from place to place in the palace grounds. He expressly forbid them from seeking audience with the king, and Lavender knew he would do his best to keep Ernor from even thinking about them. Their research trips to the library became much more difficult when accompanied by a chaperone, and visiting Master Borringer’s bekra bar became the only place they could go where they could have a private conversation, since usually their escort would busy herself with shopping in the market as long as she could see where they were.
Lavender felt the constraints every minute of the day, and it was all she could do not to simply make a run for the gates and not come back. But she had promised Marigold that they would focus on the mission. And, she found, she actually started thinking they had a chance at making some progress. Seeing the Duke of Verdant with his Ewe medallion at the coronation celebration gave her a glimmer of hope that they might be able to track down the Seals after all.
So they bore up under it, being escorted about from place to place by Matron Bala and her staff, like infant children who needed to be stopped from crawling over the edge of the stairs, or getting too close to the fire. If it was Roana with them, it was never too bad. Roana liked them, and didn’t make them feel like she was keeping an eye on them as much as just spending time with them. Those were the times when Lavender felt like she could breathe a little bit, as much as she could, anyway, being confined within the walls of the palace or the market just outside. Was it possible to need the open air? Was that something inherent about being mountain folk, that you were born with a need for the wild places, and you’d get sick without them? Because she felt like she was dying of a need to feel the shade of the trees over her head, or to feel the waters of the Torrent rushing cold over her bare feet.
One morning about a week after the coronation celebration, after lessons with Master Rhense, they were escorted back to their quarters by a young woman they had not seen before. She was mountain folk, like they were, her straight black hair wrapped in a braid around her head, in the way that bottomlander women often wore theirs. She followed them into their room.
“I am Aster,” she said. “I hate to be so abrupt, but I have little time. I am part of a group that is trying to restore the Wolf Kingdom. House Westrenn has ignored mountain folk for too long. We aim to split off, to put a new Wolf King on the throne of the Iron Mountains.” She paused, searching their faces.
Lavender was speechless, surprised by her frankness. Who was this woman? Why was she telling them this?
“You are mountain folk, too,” she said. “And you’re in a position that could be of some use to us.” She paused again.
“Well, you’d better get on with it,” Lavender said. “If we wanted to turn you in, you’ve already said enough to put you in jail for good.”
Aster smiled wryly, then continued. “We do not want the Wolf King’s Seal in the hands of House Westrenn,” she said. “And the word is that you don’t either.”
Lavender’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“We have our sources within the palace,” Aster said. “They say the reason the chancellor has an escort with you is because you tried to take the seal. You could be of use to us. You’re in an advantageous position.”
Lavender scoffed. “What? You mean being escorted around the grounds like we’re captives?”
Aster shook her head. “No. But you do have all eyes on you. You are the perfect diversion.”
“And the perfect scapegoat,” Lavender added quickly. She marked the the way Aster blinked and cleared her throat.
“Well, perhaps,” Aster admitted. “But we would not leave you alone. We would help get you out.”
“I don’t think so,” Lavender said. “You can go. My sister and I have reading that Master Rhense has assigned. And besides, the matron will be wondering why her new help is dawdling in our chambers so long. I’m sure you don’t want to lose your position here.”
Aster waited a moment longer, as if trying to find something else to say. Lavender turned away, and heard the door creak open and click shut behind her.
She turned to Marigold, who had been silent through the whole exchange. “Can you believe that?” Lavender said. “Wanting to steal the medallion and pin it on us?”
But Marigold’s face was creased with worry. “What if they actually take it?”
Lavender blinked. “You’re serious?”
Marigold nodded. “Yes. If they get it, we won’t know where it is. And what if they take it to the mountains, and the Mudwitch gets it?”
Now Lavender felt a growing worry in her own chest. “So should I have told her we’d help?”
Marigold was quiet.
Lavender considered this. “Well, here’s the truth,” she said, after a pause. “Aster and her people aren’t going to give us the seal. If they’re going to all these lengths, they’re going to take it themselves. And if they do, then the mission we’re on is worse off than before, because there will be no telling where it will end up. We have to do what we can to keep them from getting it.”
“Then should we turn her in?”
Lavender considered it. What was stopping her from wanting to do that? A large part of her still thought of the medallion as her own, and she didn’t want the king to have it. But that wasn’t what was keeping her from wanting to turn Aster in. There was something more at stake, if she could just put her finger on it. She pictured the conversation they would have to have with the chancellor. “I think,” she said slowly, “that Basil will use it against us if we do. I don’t know that he will, but I think he’ll set the king against us for certain if we try to tell anyone about this plot. I think we just have to watch, and do what we can to keep their plan from working.” She hobbled to the window and looked out. “And if we’re going to do that, maybe we should play along with Miss Aster.”
They saw Aster again that same day, as she escorted them to dinner, and told her they would help. “You will hear from me soon,” she said, and that was that.
But soon was not that soon, as they found out. Ten days rolled by. They would see Aster occasionally as she still escorted them from place to place, but she did not bring up any secret missions, and they weren’t about to broach the subject themselves. But one thing did happen over the course of those days: the restrictions on their movements began to lift. The staff became less vigilant, and Basil, apparently distracted with the more important aspects of running the king’s staff and government in the middle of a war, paid less attention to them.
So Lavender and Marigold were walking in the garden by themselves when Aster came and found them. “Tonight,” she said, pressing a key into Lavender’s hand, “after the vespers bells. Unlock the side door behind the west tower that leads into the city. A man will be waiting outside. His name is Phlox, and he’s a ratter. He’ll have a couple cages of rats to give you. Take them, then go Chancellor Basil’s chambers and release them in there.”
Lavender blinked several times before answering. “Are you serious? You need us to set rats loose in the chancellor’s chambers?”
Aster nodded. “We figured — Phlox and I — that you’d enjoy the challenge. Once the infestation is discovered, Basil will probably do about anything to get them caught. I mentioned the other day to Roana that I have a friend who is the best ratter in the city. She’ll tell this to Basil, and he’ll call for Phlox and his crew to help round up the rats. That’s how we’ll get in.”
“But Roana,” Lavender protested. “How are we supposed to get out to open the door? You expect her to let us saunter outside at night?“
“Tell her you want to see the evening star. Tell her it’s a special night for mountain folk. Tell her whatever you want. I’ve see how Roana treats you two. She dotes on you. And she doesn’t know one tale from our traditions. You make up what you want, she’s sure to believe you, and she will give in.”
“Maybe so,” Lavender said. “But then we have the problem of getting two cages of rats into Basil’s chambers. And you might notice —” Lavender picked up her wooden foot and pounded it on the floorboards of her chamber for emphasis “— stealth isn’t my strong suit.”
“You’ll have to trust me there,” Aster said. “I’ll have the way cleared. There is a back stair not far from the door where you’ll meet Phlox. You can almost certainly reach it unnoticed, and I’ll have arranged for Basil’s chambers to be unoccupied by guards or staff. He will be elsewhere, too. That key will work to get in and out of there as well.”
Lavender could think of no more objections. She placed the key in her pocket, hand trembling.
“What are you going to do with the medallion?” Marigold asked.
“Take it back to the mountains,” Aster said. “Crown a new Wolf King. Drive out the Mudwitch ourselves. Ernor’s army is weak and ineffective. He, like the rest of House Westrenn, has done nothing for us.”
“Do you know who Rotheart is?” Marigold asked.
“Mari,” Lavender hissed. “No!”
But Marigold shrugged her off. “He’s the Mudwitch’s father. He’s under the mountains. She’s trying to free him; maybe she already has. We have to—”
Aster snorted. “I know who Rotheart is. But he was defeated. All the legends and histories say it.”
“They’re wrong,” Marigold said.
Aster shook her head. “I don’t know where you’re getting this,” she said, “but it doesn’t matter. We need your help tonight. We can get the medallion away from the king. We’ll get it back into mountain folk’s hands, and we’ll be that much closer to crowning a new Wolf King. That’s something you can get behind, isn’t it?”
Lavender wanted to scream at Aster. As much as she sympathized with the idea of an independent mountain realm, especially after the discrimination she’d witnessed and experienced in Gilden, this was not the time to divide Pelemor. But she couldn’t say this; she had to play along. “Well, sure,” she said, “but the Seal should go to us — Marigold and me. We’re the ones who got it back to begin with.”
Aster scoffed. “That’s not going to happen. Once we have it, we toss it over the wall. One of our friends will be waiting to receive it, then they’ll ride like the wind for the city gate.” She eyed them again. “Are you up for this?”
Lavender clutched the key in her pocket and squeezed. What were their options? Refuse to go along and the Seal remained where it was: locked behind glass and bars in the reliquary hall. Agree to the plan and witness the Seal leave their reach and potentially go into the Mudwitch’s clutches. Perhaps, if they went along, she and Marigold would find some way of interrupting the plan, and getting the medallion back themselves. “We’re up for this,” she said.
Aster tried to mask the relief, but Lavender could see in the way her eyes relaxed. “Tonight then, after vespers.” She sped away.
The sisters were left on the bridge over the stream, staring at each other as the sound of the current burbled underneath them. “Well, how do you feel about rats?” Lavender asked.
Marigold gave a giggle, then turned her eyes on the water. They stood together for awhile in silence before Marigold asked, “But what do we do now?”
“I don’t know,” Lavender said. “But I know we have to try to figure out a way to end up with the Seal.”