Flecks of Gold (29 page)

“I can’t afford to have you acting on orders. I need to know you will do this favor not as a servant, but as a friend. Otherwise, I’ll just say good night and ask that you talk to no one until you must.”

“I will help,” she said with the hint of a sigh.

“It won’t take much. All I ask is that when you leave, you hold the door open a moment so I can get through. Will you do that for me?”

“As you wish, my lady,” she said.

I sighed sadly. “Thank you, Sentai. I want you to know, if I never see you again, that I really appreciate all your help. You didn’t have to be nice to me, and I am grateful for it. I wish there was something I could do for you, but I have nothing, and I have no power. I’m so sorry.”

“You were kind, my lady. That is more than most servants can say of their mistresses.”

I looked at her in sympathy. “Okay, let’s go,” I said. I created the unnoticeable lacing in my mind and tapped the strand that would activate it. Sentai nodded and turned toward the door.

“I have fulfilled the princess’s desires,” she said, opening the door wider than necessary to get out. I followed as close behind her as I dared, but still came perilously close to getting my foot stuck in the door when the guard unexpectedly shoved it closed behind Sentai. I followed her a few more meters before whispering good-bye and heading to the huge palace wall.

The air was still and thick with the hoarded heat of the day as I walked quietly through the courtyard, past the well-manicured entrance plants and smooth, cobbled road. I felt like a shadow, unreal and not quite solid. When I came to the huge gates blocking my way, my substantiality returned to me in a jolt as I realized I hadn’t thought of how to get past the wall. Indecision gnawed at me as I watched the men on the upper walkway pace and then stand silently a while before moving off in the opposite direction.

I scanned the darkness of the wall to find the door leading to the walkway, wondering when the watch would be changed. The door was near the large gates, but in a recess. Pulling on the handle as quietly as I could did no good. It was locked. So I settled down to wait for the change of the guards, still not sure what good that would do; even if I did get through the door and up to the walkway, I’d still be stuck on the top of the wall with no way down the other side.

As I waited, I mulled over the problem. In order to descend the wall, I would need hands and feet that would stick like a lizard’s or, more realistically, a rope. But where would I find one? Suddenly my mind got caught on my first thought. Why
couldn’t
I have hands and feet like a lizard’s? It wasn’t hard to heal my skin. Would it be much harder to change it? I felt the smooth rock of the wall and wondered if even a lizard would be able to find purchase. It seemed doubtful. What else would be able to stick, suction cups?

Then it hit me. An ordinary lizard might not be able to climb the sheer face of the wall, but I was positive a gecko could. I tried to remember all I could about geckos, recalling part of an article I’d read, explaining why geckos were able to climb across ceilings and absolutely smooth surfaces. They had a million tiny hairs that became so small at the tip that they bonded to the molecules of the surface where the gecko stood.

I concentrated on what I knew about gecko’s feet, trying to remember every detail about the article that I could. Finally, a golden lacing formed in my mind. I studied it alongside my own hand lacing for quite some time before I saw what part of the gecko lacing I needed to modify, what string of golden light I needed to change. Just as I took my sneakers off to try the lacing, I heard the sound of laughter and footsteps.

Melting further into the wall’s shadow, I waited for the newcomers. As I’d hoped, it was the next guard shift. Standing as close behind the last man as I could without alerting him to my presence, I slipped in after him. My toe scuffed the first stair, making a sound like thunder in my ears. I winced in pain, and clamped my mouth closed, hoping the sound of the other men had drowned out the noise. After locking the door, the last guard simply turned and bounded up the stairs on the heels of his companions.

Breath puffed out of my mouth in relief . . . a little too soon. The man stopped mid-bound and rotated back toward me. I quickly slunk to the darkest part of the stairwell. He studied the darkness for a moment, but the torch was several feet up from him, leaving me in deep shadow. Finally, he turned and climbed more sedately after his companions.

I waited, still as a statue until I could no longer hear him on the stairs, then I cautiously followed him up, worried he might detect me if he were still actually looking for someone. I wasn’t exactly invisible, after all. At the top of the stairs I peered around the bend cautiously. But the two different shifts were reporting to each other, so I slipped by to the outer wall on tiptoe and looked down to the ground below.

Ever since Rafan’s comment about blowing things up, I’d been a little nervous every time I tried something new with my lacings. But the gecko feet and hand lacing worked without any explosions. In the dark I couldn’t even tell any difference to my palms or soles—at least, I couldn’t until I tried to move to the ledge and found myself stuck to the ground. It took several yanks and a silent scream of panicked frustration until I remembered that the gecko article had also said the molecular bond became too weak when the gecko tipped his foot past a certain angle. Cautiously, I angled my foot away from the ground rather than pulling it straight up. My iron lock on the floor released.

I sighed and moved slowly over and down the edge of the wall, getting used to putting my hands and feet straight down, then angling to release their tenacious hold. The wall was dizzyingly high, but each time I moved a limb, I stuck like super glue, so I didn’t feel as frightened as I would have otherwise. It was actually rather exhilarating. That is, until I looked up at that same rear guard peering down on me with a furrowed brow, as if he wasn’t sure he was really seeing something or not. I froze and tried to pretend to be a rather large bump in the wall.

“Hey, Ero,” the man called. “Would you come over here and look at something for me?” His form disappeared for a moment, and I decided to get down fast so that I could retreat to a more shadowed place. I moved as quickly as I could. Straight, angle down, straight, angle down, straight, stuck, remember to angle, and down. My foot hit the dirt. I quickly changed my feet and hands back to normal and ran to a nearby bush just as the two men reappeared at the wall.

“I could have sworn . . .” the man said before turning to apologize.

“Seeing mirages, Tentr?” the other man asked.

“I suppose so. It was certainly strange,” he answered. They moved away again, and I sprinted for the cover of the nearest house. Though all the mansions in the area were walled as well, I walked in their shadows until I was sure that I wouldn’t be seen from the palace wall. I then stopped to put shoes and socks back on my abused feet.

I was a little disoriented, but I headed in what I thought was a southerly direction. The mansions changed to un-gated houses, then shops, and then much more rundown buildings. A few people moved about. The dark blue sky was lightening, and the stars beginning to fade. I’d have to hurry and hope that I was heading in the direction of the river. If I was wrong, there was a chance I’d be discovered missing and dragged back by my ear before I even left the city.

The air began to feel more humid and everything smelled of fish and damp. I breathed a sigh of relief and trotted in the direction of the smell. There were no signs, and the men loading the ships didn’t talk much beyond short phrases such as, “Ware!” or “Haul away.” Fatigue washed over me as I undid the unnoticeable lacing. Lack of sleep seemed to affect the stamina I had laboriously built up with Breeohan. Shucking off the chameleon lacing had been difficult. I’d have to be careful so another lacing wouldn’t be necessary.

I eased out of a shadowy corner, trying to look as unimportant as possible. No one seemed to pay much attention to me as I headed purposefully toward the first ship loading cargo. A potbellied man stood watching as crates were loaded onto the ship. From a distance he looked unkempt. As I neared, the stains on his clothes stood out in all their crusted and splattered glory. I had to stop a few feet away to keep from gagging at the smell of him.

“Pardon me, but are you the captain of this ship?” I asked, trying to fight my body’s natural reaction to dry heave and instead keep a pleasant expression on my face.

“I am. What do you want?” he asked in a sharp, deep voice.

“Are you heading upriver?”

“Yes, in about a portion, so if you don’t have anything useful to say, leave.”

I was tempted to do just that, but traveling by foot would be much too slow. “Can I book passage on your ship?”

“Not unless you can work. Do you know anything about sailing?”

“Not much, but I learn quickly.”

“How are you at cooking?”

My eyes were partially cast down to hide their color, but this man seemed to interpret the movement much differently, for I saw him leer at me through my lashes. I repressed a shudder. “I’m a fairly good cook, but I may not know the recipes you’re accustomed to.”

“Good enough. My last cook just left me without a cloud of warning, so you’ll have to do. You won’t get paid, but I won’t charge for your passage. Got anything to do before getting aboard? If not, then get inside and acquaint yourself with the kitchen. My name’s Captain Hior. I am sure you and I’ll have a good time getting to know each other while we’re aboard.”

“Thank you.” I hurried away as fast as I could without being obvious. The thought of the captain made me nervous. What could I do if he wanted to take advantage of me? I certainly wouldn’t let him, but it would make my situation much more difficult. I’d just have to find another boat as soon as I could.

The boat’s galley was a mess, and I kept myself busy cleaning and cooking for the crew. They ignored me, and I returned the favor. Captain Hior shot some disturbing glances my way during the meals, but it wasn’t until late in the afternoon of the second day aboard his ship that he confronted me. No one had directed me to a cot on board, so I’d slept on the kitchen’s floor. I was napping as the soup for dinner stewed when something sharp kicked my shin, jolting me awake.

I looked up, disoriented, to see the captain’s form leaning menacingly over me. “What? So you’re a lazy one, are you? Sleeping while you should be cooking. I’ve a right mind to reprimand you good and proper.” His voice bellowed in anger, but his eyes were slitted slyly. I stood up quickly.

“The soup is cooking. There’s nothing more for me to do but wait for it to be done,” I said quickly.

He stood for a moment, leering at me, and I moved to the pot both to stir the soup and to get farther away from him. But I kept my body angled toward him so he couldn’t sneak up on me.

“We’ll be another two days getting to our next port. You decide whether the rest of your time on this ship will be uncomfortable,” he indicated the kitchen floor with a sweep of his hand, “or comfortable,” he stepped toward me to stroke my cheek with his sausage hand and my nose was swamped with the stench of unwashed human. I backed up hastily, feeling a mixture of fear, anger, and nausea.

“I choose the floor,” I said, barely remembering to keep my eyes downcast.

He followed my retreat with another firm thunk of his boot-shod foot, effectively trapping me in the corner. “Oh, now don’t be shy. I insist.” His voice turned hard. My insides churned from the smell of body odor and my own fear. “If you’re good, I’ll make sure no one touches you but me.”

Though the floor had been hard and sleep difficult, I felt much better at this point than when I’d entered the boat. I knew that I would be able to fight, be it with magic or fist, and suddenly my fear was dispelled by a wave of anger.

I looked him straight in the eyes and saw him gasp before his eyes narrowed again in lustful speculation. That was not what I wanted. “Step away, Captain Hior, and leave me alone or you will regret it.”

“Come, come, a little thing like you? And with me surrounded as I am by my crew? I am sure you wouldn’t be so foolish,” he said. Had he really missed the fact that I was half a head taller than he was? The thought of the crew backing him up did give me a chill, however. Everyone had ignored me up to now, but that could quickly change.

He saw me hesitate and smirked as he snaked his hand toward me. “Stop!” I yelled, but he didn’t listen. I blocked his arm and punched him in the gut. Then I kneed him in the groin before slipping past his bulky form to stand, with a table between us, near the stairs leading out of the galley. He crumpled in pain and shock but recovered himself with a roar of fury, taking the table in his hands as if to fling it aside to get to me.

“Stay where you are or I will make sure you never harm another person ever again.” He paused, hands gripping the table, but a smirk spread over his face.

“And how would you do that? If you haven’t noticed, you’re on a boat full of my men on a very wide, croc-filled river. One shout and my crew will come rushing down to carry out my orders. Jump out of the boat, and you’ll be food.” Would the men really obey an order to rape me? Were they all as horrible as Captain Hior—and did he say crocodiles? What was I thinking to get on this boat in the first place?