Karigan knew the feeling. The helplessness of being under the power of someone much bigger and stronger than she. She could almost smell the foul Garroty and feel his hard, callused hands on her.
Without another thought, King Zachary’s sword was in her grasp. Although it might ruin everything, she could not simply let the soldier hurt her friend. She knew . . . she knew the fear.
She crept up silently behind them, and though the light from the ballroom touched her, she was barely perceptible. The soldier was too busy with his prey anyway and would not have noticed Karigan even if she were fully visible. He giggled like a boy.
Karigan plunged the sword into his back.
There was no sound, no outcry from the soldier. He simply collapsed on top of Mel. Her cries were muffled beneath him. Karigan hoisted the man away, and Mel curled up into a ball in a fit of sobbing.
“Mel,” Karigan whispered. She reached down and touched the girl. Mel cried louder and kicked out. “Mel! It’s me, Karigan.”
Mel rubbed her eyes. “Karigan?” Her tone was one of disbelief. “Where . . . ?”
Karigan touched her brooch. The gray world fell away and she sighed with weariness. No sooner had she appeared than Mel sprang over to her and wrapped her arms around her. The girl wept into her coat, her whole body wracked hard by sobs like unrelieved grief.
“Quietly now,” Karigan said in a soothing whisper. She stroked Mel’s hair and rubbed her back, keeping watch on the ballroom door, fearing they would be discovered at any moment.
“It w-was so t-terrible.” Mel’s whole body shuddered.
“You’re fine now,” Karigan said, still stroking. “You’re fine.”
Then Mel pushed away, sniffing, her face wet with tears. “It’s . . . it’s really you.”
“Who did you think?” Karigan smiled down at her.
“I-I thought you went away, or were dead.” Mel wrapped her arms around her again and a new freshet of tears began. “The captain’s dead, isn’t she, and King Zachary . . . ?”
“Absolutely not.”
Mel stopped in mid-sob. “What?”
“They are both alive. We had some trouble, but we made it.”
“Truly?”
Karigan nodded, and Mel wiped tears off her cheeks, a wide grin shining on her face. “Thank you, Karigan. You don’t know how happy I am.”
“I can guess,” Karigan said. “We can’t stay here. Those guards are going to miss this fellow soon.” She pointed at the dead soldier. “Help me pull him into the bushes.”
They each took an arm and dragged until he was concealed in the darkest shadows they could find beneath a clump of shrubbery.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Karigan asked.
Mel shook her head, then shivered a little. “He . . . he frightened me.”
“I know,” Karigan said. “Listen to me, you have got to get out of here. Is there somewhere you can hide?”
Mel thought for a moment. “Maybe at the stable.”
She wished she had her moonstone now to reveal the room and aid her in navigating its vague expanse, but the moonstone was gone forever, just so much crushed crystal.
The room, she decided, was some sort of sun room or study. She could make out the shapes of bookshelves and the edges of heavy furniture. She wondered if this was a place King Zachary spent much time in.
She moved across the room with care, but still jammed her thigh on the edge of a table. She barely managed to suppress a cry of pain.
“I’ll be black and blue from head to toe,” she mumbled, rubbing her throbbing thigh.
She aimed for a bar of light that filtered beneath a door, and managed quite well without bumping into too many objects or knocking anything over. Once she reached the door, she dropped to her knees and peered through the space where the light came through, and she listened. She could not see or hear a soul.