Heart of the Moors

Chapter 23

The raven spun up into the air, flying off toward the stables and then circling back, as though checking to be sure Aurora was heading in the right direction. The stables? Did Diaval intend for her to ride? How far could Maleficent be from the castle?

“My queen,” said Lord Ortolan, stepping into her path, “is something amiss?”

“Yes,” she said distractedly. “My godmother.”

Aurora spotted Nanny Stoat standing near one of the long tables where villagers sat to partake of the festival food. Near her was Hammond, the man caught poaching in her woods, and a girl she judged to be his daughter. The girl was about Aurora’s size, dressed in homespun and heavy boots. “I must help her.”

“Now?” Lord Ortolan asked, looking around in bafflement. “But this is your festival. Are you saying that the signing of the treaty must be delayed? Did something happen?”

The treaty. In her horror over the thought of Maleficent in danger, she’d almost forgotten. If they didn’t sign now—that night—would it seem as though someone had broken the peace? It came to her that perhaps foiling the treaty was the motive for whatever had happened. That thought only deepened her dread.

“Your pardon,” Aurora said to the girl in the homespun, thinking of Diaval’s leading her to the stables. “Would you be willing to trade your clothes for mine?”

The girl looked up at her in confusion. “Your clothes?”

“Yes,” Aurora said.

Nanny Stoat jabbed the girl in the side. “Gretchen, you ought to agree. Her dress would pay off a chunk of your family’s debts.”

“Yes, but I can’t possibly—” The girl, Gretchen, shut her mouth and curtsied. “Of course, my queen. Yes. My clothes. And thank you for your kindness to my father.”

Hammond smiled and put his hand on Gretchen’s arm. “Your Majesty, we’d be happy to give you the shirts off our backs, but surely you’d prefer your own?”

“Not today,” Aurora said. “Nanny Stoat, I want you to be in charge for the length of time that I am gone.”

Lord Ortolan cleared his throat. “You cannot seriously mean—”

But she cut him off before he could finish. “I do.” Aurora removed the crown from her head and set it down in front of the old woman. “They’ll listen to you. And they should. Tell them that the signing will happen—there’s just been a delay. You won’t let them forget we have much in common.”

“Including some common enemies,” Nanny Stoat said, glancing at the advisor.

Aurora didn’t have time to dwell on that. She went into the tent and quickly exchanged clothing with Gretchen.

As they returned, Gretchen was still marveling over an embroidered silken slipper. Hammond smiled to see her dressed in such finery.

“Your Majesty,” he said as Aurora was about to head for the stables, “there’s something—not sure if it’s important…”

She paused.

He reached into a sack and brought out a knife. Then he held it out to her hilt-first. “I found this.”

The knife didn’t appear to be very sharp or finely made. The metal was dull. She frowned at it, growing angrier by the moment. She had explicitly forbidden weapons. But something else about it bothered her. Iron. It was a knife forged of cold iron.

The thing was an affront. And the person who had brought it wanted to disrupt the treaty, and maybe do something far worse than that.

“He won’t get in trouble, will he?” Gretchen asked, her hand on her father’s arm.

“Of course not,” Aurora said. “Why would he?”

“It was one of the nobles who dropped it,” Hammond said. “But I knew he’d deny it if I told a guard.”

“Can you describe him?” Aurora asked.

Hammond frowned. “Not his face. But he was a young man with light brown hair, dressed in blue. For a moment, I thought he noticed he’d dropped the weapon, but then he kept on walking. Like maybe he was getting rid of it.”

Aurora turned the knife over in her hand, wondering if it had anything to do with Maleficent’s disappearance. “I’m glad you told me.”

After that, Aurora went to find Smiling John. The castellan was sitting at a long table, a mug in one hand and a portion of eel pie in the other. Soldiers had gathered around him, telling stories of campaigns. They stopped abruptly as Aurora approached.

She didn’t have time to do more than pull him aside and explain the situation briefly. He didn’t like the idea of her riding alone in search of her godmother, and he liked the knife even less, but he eventually agreed to her plans. At least he accepted that Nanny Stoat was in charge, and was willing to reluctantly execute the rest of Aurora’s orders.

Lady Fiora was waiting for her as she walked away from the soldiers. “Everyone is looking for—What are you doing in those clothes?”

Aurora almost laughed. “I’m afraid I must go.”

“No, wait,” Lady Fiora said. “Stay. I hope this has nothing to do with Phillip. There is something amiss. My brother, he—”

“Nothing to do with Phillip,” Aurora said, cutting her off. “And I really, really have to go.”

Aurora led her horse out to the cobbled road in front of the castle and made ready to swing up onto her back.

“My lady,” said someone with a familiar voice. It was Count Alain, leading his own horse from the stables. He had a slim sword swinging from his belt.

“What a surprise,” Aurora said. She wondered if he’d come to intervene on behalf of Lord Ortolan, although he wouldn’t need a horse for that. “I just ran into your sister. You’re very good to see me off.”

“I understand that your godmother is gone,” he said. “You believe she came to misfortune.”

“Her raven is going to lead me to her,” Aurora told him, “whatever has happened.”

“You can’t be thinking of going alone?” he asked.

She put up her chin. “I am.”

“Let me come,” said Count Alain. “No matter what I think of the Fair Folk, I know that no one should ever head into danger without a friend by their side.”

Aurora considered his offer. She thought of all she knew about him, all she feared might have befallen her godmother, and all her godmother’s warnings. But Aurora had already sent Phillip away. She didn’t have it in her to send away anyone else.

“It would be a great kindness if you would accompany me,” she said.