Invasion: A Sequel to The Last Princess (7 page)

The piercing sounds of Mary’s sobs reverberated through her bedroom, echoing across the entire palace. Nothing I did would quiet her. I could only sit with her in my arms, still in shock myself, holding her shivering body close to my own.

I stroked her head softly, untangling her hair as it fell in wisps around her face. Her skin was red and hot from crying, and blue veins were visible in her forehead and around her eyes. I did my best to keep myself composed, for her sake.

“He’s gone,” Mary would say periodically. Not even to me, but to the air. “My love is gone.”

I knew the feeling.

Night came, and the flickering light from our coal lamp cast strange shadows against the walls. I sat on the floor with my knees curled into my chest and my arms wrapped around them, watching as a thin black line of ants crawled their way from a tiny crack in the windowsill down to the floor and back again. They had climbed all the way from the earth below, up the length of the castle wall, to get at some crumbs and bring them back to their ant holes. The sight of them brought tears to my eyes, but I couldn’t say for sure why.

It must have been around dinnertime when Tindra entered the room. Without meeting my eyes, she set down a plate of food. I could smell the vegetable broth, the bergamot in the tea, and the toast.

She checked my cup and finding it empty, picked up the pitcher she’d brought in with the tray, tipping it just so to refill my cup to its brim. The pitcher’s white ceramic shined.

And something about the pitcher, the light gleaming on its opaque surface, gave me an idea.

I charged for her, suddenly and wildly, diving straight for her knees like a frenzied animal. The pitcher flew from her grasp, but miraculously didn’t break. I scrambled for it before she could, taking its rounded body into my hands and smashing it hard against the floor. It shattered to pieces. In my grip remained its broken handle, now a sharp pointed weapon.

Grabbing Tindra with one hand, I held its jagged tip to her throat with the other.

Mary looked on in shock, as caught off guard as Tindra was by my sudden violence.

“Do as I say and you won’t get hurt,” I said into her ear.

“Eliza, what are you doing?” Mary screamed.

“We’re getting out of here,” I said. “Pick up that long piece of glass and get behind me. Now.”

“You’ll never get away with this,” Tindra cried out. And then she began screaming things in Swedish, but I forced her mouth closed with my hand until she got quiet again.

Mary did as I said. She picked up a hunk of the broken pitcher from the floor and held it out in front of her, trembling.

“Follow me,” I said to her.

With Tindra as our hostage, we made our way out of the bedroom. The two pirates guarding our door—one male and one female—raised their guns at the sight of us.

“Step aside or I draw her blood,” I said. My words came out gravelly, harder than my regular speaking voice.

Mary breathed heavily behind me. I said a silent prayer she wouldn’t collapse right there of hyperventilation.

The pirates hesitated. Their cadet uniforms hung loosely from their thin frames. I could see in their frightened young eyes that neither of them would actually pull the trigger.

“Go ahead, kill her,” Demkoe said, appearing behind me. “I have plenty of other wives.”

The pirate soldiers straightened their posture at the sound of their leader’s voice. I gripped Tindra tighter. She called out something to Demkoe that I didn’t understand, but he ignored her.

Demkoe stepped casually over to us, passing his eyes over Mary and then me.

“Go ahead, Eliza,” he said. “Slit her throat with that broken shard of glass. I want to see you do it.”

I didn’t make a move. I could feel the warmth of Tindra’s body against my own. She was whimpering and trembling. She seemed to shrink in my arms. Her bones felt as brittle as a baby bird’s.

Demkoe picked at his teeth with his fingernail, then looked at his watch. It was my father’s old gold watch. He had stolen it, like everything else—the palace, his clothes, the throne. “I don’t have all day, Eliza,” he said. “Kill her or let her go, but don’t just stand there.”

I couldn’t do it.

The pirates who’d filed in behind Demkoe were quick to realize I was bluffing. They lunged forward. One of them knocked my weapon from my hand with the tip of his rifle. Another bear-hugged Mary from behind, pulling us apart. Two others pulled Tindra to safety.

Demkoe hadn’t stirred a muscle. He only watched, satisfied, with his arms crossed over his decorated chest.

“Back to the bedchamber for her,” he said of Mary.

Then he pointed at me with his ringed pinky finger. “The hot-blooded one goes to solitary.”

One of his men dragged me across the floor. I kicked my legs and tried to flail my arms, but it was no use. He pulled me down a few flights of stairs, to the small dark room I had heard of but never seen—the oubliette. It hadn’t been used to detain a prisoner in over a hundred years. Until now.

Demkoe’s soldier stuffed me inside and then slammed and locked the door. It was a cell no bigger than a small closet, and dark as a pitch-black night. I slid downward, letting my back scrape against its moldy stone wall, and huddled into a crouch. The damp darkness of the place wasn’t the worst of it, or the permeating smell of decay, or even the sensation of being buried alive. The worst of it was that I was now separated from Mary.

The oubliette—so named from the French because people could literally be forgotten inside it—was designed to make its prisoners lose all hope. And it worked. Without light or the sound of any other human voice, I quickly lost track of all sense of time. Someone brought me bread and water about twice a day, but I couldn’t be sure. I began to wonder about the beating of my own heart. It was my only company, and it occurred to me that it was always beating, incessantly, within me—but that one day it would stop. Were we all given a set number of beats? If we tore through them too quickly, did we die sooner?

And I wondered about Mary. Had my escape attempt made things worse for her? I prayed that Demkoe hadn’t laid a hand on her, that she was safe.

I wondered if Wesley’s body had been pulled from the sea, bloated and waterlogged. If whoever found him would bury him, would know how wonderful he was. That he had lived in a cottage in the woods with a girl who loved him.

I so badly wanted to know if Jamie was okay; if Eoghan’s boys were safe, even though their father was now dead; if Polly and her parents had gotten them safely to Scotland. I could hardly bear the isolation a moment longer, having no way to find out if they were even alive.

When the sound of keys jangling woke me from a restless sleep, I thought I was still dreaming. But then I heard the distinct click of a lock releasing, and I sat up.

My head felt large and heavy, my arms leaden, and my body felt chilled from the inside out. I tried to focus my eyes through the dark but could only hear the squeaking of the hatch. Then a bright yellow light struck my eyes painfully.

“Eliza?” said a voice. I knew it, but I couldn’t place it. I blinked my eyes in rapid succession until a face became visible.

It was Tanner, wearing the same British cadet uniform the other pirates now wore. The last I’d seen of him was on the tanker just before we reached the coast. A lifetime ago.

“How are you doing?” he whispered.

“I’ve been better,” I said, and a corner of his mouth lifted in spite of everything. He handed me a cup of water, and I sipped gratefully. “Is Mary okay?” I asked.

“Demkoe’s not going to let anything happen to Mary,” Tanner said with a tinge of anger in his voice. Or was it frustration? “He needs her. You’re the one who’s in danger, Eliza.”

“How long have I been in here?” I asked.

But Tanner didn’t answer my question. “That trick you pulled with Tindra,” he said. “You’re lucky Demkoe didn’t shoot you on the spot. Did you really think it would be so easy to escape?”

I looked at him. Who did this boy think he was, scolding me this way? He didn’t even know me.

“You need to be smarter than that.” He stepped into the closet-size cell with me and closed the door behind him. When he stepped toward me, I involuntary retreated, my hands curling into fists at my sides.

He held his palms up, placating. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice low and tense. “But Eliza, do you really think you’re the first person who’s wanted out?”

“Tanner,” I said. “You’re scaring me.”

“I want to get out too, Eliza. A lot of us do.”

I felt my heart slow.

“It’s true, Demkoe saved me from death,” Tanner said. “But living on his ship all these years was its own kind of prison. We’ve never stayed on land for more than a few days before this—we never found land that was habitable. I’ve spent the last ten years helping him sail the seas in search of more and more boats and cities to raid. It’s no way to live, Eliza. And I don’t want to be a part of it anymore. I never did.”

I let myself really look at Tanner, let his words sink in. His face was earnest and sincere. Without warning, my eyes filled up and I felt a single tear escape down my cheek.

“How did you end up here in the first place?” I asked, wiping the tear away before it could reach my chin.

Tanner stared down at the dirt floor, hesitating for a moment before he began speaking. “I was on vacation with my parents in Greece when the quakes hit. They didn’t make it—no one on our island did. When Demkoe found me a few days later, I was perched in an olive tree, barely alive. And so he took me in.” Tanner’s voice broke. “I had a baby sister back home. I’ll never know what happened to her.”

He stopped for a moment, then continued.

“After that, we sailed around for a while on the tanker. At first we all thought we’d eventually be rescued. That was before we realized just how terrible things were. The oceans were full of bodies and debris, everywhere, across the entire world. We had to
stick together if we had any hope of surviving.” He sighed. “And I was so young. I mean, I was only a kid when he found me. I didn’t know any better. I needed him. And I
do
have him to thank for saving my life. But now we’re hurting too many people, and I’m done with this lifelong debt.

“We both want the same thing, Eliza,” he finished. “But neither of us can do this alone. Please, trust me.”

I stared at Tanner until he raised his eyes to meet mine. They were so full of pain, of the memories of all that he’d seen and survived, but also something else—of hope and strength and bravery. In a way, he reminded me of Wesley. Maybe that’s why I felt like I could trust him.

And then there was the fact that I
wanted
to trust him, whatever that meant.

“So,” I asked, “what’s your plan for getting us out of here, then, Tanner?”

“It’ll take some time,” he said, smiling that crooked grin again. “But I do have a plan.”

I wasn’t sure how much time later it was that another guard opened the door to the oubliette—hours, maybe a day? I squinted into the light at the tough, tattooed Ryker as he pulled open the hatch and yanked me out. “What’s happening?” I asked, but he just led me upstairs without explanation. We were going to Mary’s bedchamber, I realized, and my heart picked up speed. Was this it—the wedding? Had they set me free because it was all already over?

But inside Mary’s room, nothing had changed. Mary stood there, thinner than before, wearing one of their plain gray dresses, but she ran forward to throw her arms around me. “Eliza,” she murmured into my ear, “thank God you’re okay.”

I pulled myself away from her embrace to better look at her. Strands of her thick blonde hair fell loose from her braid—a hairstyle she would have never chosen for herself—and I let myself hate the Rykers for it, the anger fueling me, making me feel powerful. But at least she was alive.

She raised her eyebrows at the guard that had been watching us, and he nodded, stepping outside and closing the door behind him with a soft click.
They were following her orders now?
I wondered in confusion. And then I realized.

“Mary,” I said slowly, hoping I was wrong. “What did you give them in return for getting me out?”

Mary looked down, then wandered slowly over to her dresser. She chose a record from the shelf and placed it on the player, then let it spin. Music filled the room. The first few notes immediately sounded both new and familiar to my ears—it was the opera
Dido and Aeneas
, by Henry Purcell. This had been my mother’s favorite composition.

How long had it been since I’d heard it? Since I’d heard any music at all?

I couldn’t believe Mary managed to get the record player moved to her bedroom—and electricity to run it. It only confirmed my worst fears.

Mary drew me in close, placing one hand upon the small of my back, as if she wanted to slow-dance. Then she whispered into my ear. “Be careful what you say. We can’t be sure nobody’s listening. In fact, I’m pretty sure they are listening.”

I nodded in acknowledgment of her warning and tilted my ear closer to her soft voice.

“I offered Demkoe a trade,” she said. “Me for you.”

My stomach dropped. “Mary, no!” I started to exclaim, but she put a hand over my mouth, her eyes flashing a warning.

“It was the only way, Eliza. I agreed to marry him, willingly. To have a public wedding.”

“No. I’m not going to let that happen,” I whispered. “We’re going to escape.”

“You know as well as I do that we’d never make it out of here alive.”

“Tanner is going to help us,” I said. “He has a plan.”

“Tanner the
Ryker
?” Mary looked at me with trepidation and took a small step backward.

“Mary, he’s not …” I fumbled for words, trying to explain Tanner’s warmth, his determination not to give up even in the face of terrible sadness. “He’s not like the others.”

“Eliza, he’ll betray you in a heartbeat—”

“It was his idea—”

“It’s a
trap
!” Mary said, and the sharpness in her voice made us both stop. She sighed and grew quiet again. “We can’t trust him,” she said, so quietly that I almost couldn’t hear. “He’s been one of them since he was a child.”

“Exactly,” I whispered back. “He’s been cooped up on the tanker for years, taking orders from that maniac. He wants out as much as we do.”

“If that were true, Eliza, he could just escape all on his own. Any offer he made to you while you were in solitary sounds to me like a trap organized by Demkoe.”

I looked down at the worn rose-printed carpet. “I know it sounds like wishful thinking, but I believe him, Mary. The look in his eyes reminded me of …” I paused.

“He’s not Wesley,” Mary said, completing my thought for me. “He’s a Ryker pirate.”

I closed my eyes. All I could see was Wesley’s face in the backs of my eyelids. “It’s an opportunity,” I said. “Our
only
opportunity to get out of here. If it fails, what’s the worst that could happen? You’ve already agreed to marry Demkoe. We don’t have anything else to lose.” Without warning, my eyes filled with hot tears. “What choice do we have?”

At the pained look on my face, Mary placed her hand gently over my heart. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She forced a sympathetic smile and I tried to smile back.

“So how do we do it?” she asked.

I strived to keep the level of my voice below that of the music. “Tanner’s going to steal us cadet uniforms, with hats and all. The same ones the pirate soldiers wear. Then he’ll get the guards away from our door, with some order, telling them Demkoe needs
them or something. Dressed like cadets, we’ll be able to walk through the palace to one of the secret tunnel entrances. Once we’re in the tunnels … once we’re out in the streets …”

Mary looked away from me. She gazed around the room and momentarily out the window.

“Once we’re out in the streets, what?” she said. “We don’t even know what’s left of London’s streets. Or who’s left. There may be no place else to escape to. Demkoe might control it all.”

A lump of emotion caught in Mary’s throat, quieting her.

I hugged her, as much for my own benefit as hers, blinking at the wall in frustration. It was true: we had no information on what was happening outside of the immediate palace gates. We had no idea how far Demkoe’s control had spread. We would be lucky if we even made it out of the palace. But we had to try.

“This is about more than just us and our family, Mary,” I said. “We may be England’s only hope against this dictator. We can be the start of a resistance, a rebellion against Demkoe. We can save England—”

The record stopped playing. A few seconds of silence passed before the needle went back to the beginning and the song started up again, same as before.

“You’re right, Eliza,” Mary said, nodding with grim determination. “I’ve just been a pile of nerves since Eoghan—” she broke off, crying, and then smiled sadly through her tears. “See?” she asked. “Here I am, crying at the drop of a hat. You’ve always been the strong one. You barely cried over Wesley. You should be queen, not me.”

I barely cried over Wesley because I shut all the pain tight in a box, then locked it and swallowed the key
, I thought to myself.
It’s not because I’m strong—it’s because I’m afraid. I don’t know how to live without him.

“Not true,” I said, kissing Mary on the forehead. “You’re the best queen this country has ever seen. And I’m only strong for you. Because of you.”

That brought the inkling of a smile to her face. The frown between her eyes softened. “When will this happen?” she asked. “Our escape?”

“As soon as possible,” I said, and Mary nodded, composed again.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it.”