“You felt rightly,” he assured her. “Don’t worry about me. You two are taking enough of a risk as it is.” He watched Briar open the locks on his wrists. “I don’t know if I will ever be able to thank you.”
“Just, if you’re caught, don’t say it was us,” Briar advised.
“You understand a man can bear only so much under the questioning of torturers,” Parahan said. “I will hold them off as long as I can, of course, but I have already had one experience at the hands of the emperor’s interrogators.”
“But why?” Evvy whispered, accidentally splashing more water than she needed to. “You weren’t an enemy.”
“They wanted to see what secrets my uncle and my father had that might be worth stealing, of course. I tried to tell them I was a layabout and my family’s fool, but …” He shrugged. “Such people only believe your answers once it has cost you some pain to give them.”
Briar remembered some of Parahan’s scars and shuddered. Within a few more moments he had the ankle shackles unlocked. Parahan was free. He said nothing for a little while, rubbing his wrists as Evvy rinsed the locks. Briar snapped all of the cuffs and the collar back together again and left them on the floor of the cage, then did the cage lock up once more. It would look in the morning as if Parahan had simply turned to mist.
Briar went through the opening in the wall first. He quickly scouted around among the trees, but the area was as quiet as when he had arrived. When he returned to the wall, Parahan seemed to be talking with Evvy. Then he nodded to Briar, turned, and picked up one of the blocks. Carefully he eased it into its place in the wall, his muscles bulging as he worked. One at a time he settled the blocks into the opening. When he finished, only someone who looked very closely would realize there was no mortar between the chunks of stone.
Briar watched Evvy as Parahan worked. The big man had said something to make her think, that was certain. She chewed steadily on her lip until she realized that Briar’s eyes were on her. Then she turned her back to him. He would ask her about it later, when they were not so pressed for time.
Briar called on his vines to yank their roots from the ground. He and Evvy then tamped the remains of the rice-and-limestone mortar into the holes the vines had left and filled the rest of the openings with dirt. When they were done, Briar watched as the vines slithered into the trees. They would search through the palace grounds until they found places to grow unhindered. The ability to find homes of their own was part of the bargain that Briar had made with them when he created them.
“Amazing,” Parahan said when Briar faced him. Parahan bowed, his hands pressed together before his face. “Thank you both. I am forever in your debt.”
“This is all we can do,” Briar said. “Don’t come anywhere near us while we leave. I won’t have this bouncing back on Rosethorn.”
“You need not worry,” Parahan told them. “By dawn I will be out of the palace grounds. Will you be safe?”
“We will, but you won’t,” Briar said. “Not if they have dogs that can track your scent. Just wait a moment.” He walked out to the main road, where short, broad-leafed palms decorated the way. Silently he called to four of the longest and broadest of the heavy leaves, catching them as they dropped free of their trees. As he returned to his companions, he sent his magic along the stem and heavy veins, strengthening them and drawing them out.
“What are those for?” Evvy whispered when he rejoined them.
“Shoes,” Briar said. He explained to Parahan, “You don’t want the mages tracking you.” He set the leaves down, two pairs by two pairs. “Put your heels an inch away from the stems,” he instructed.
“They’ll fall apart,” Parahan objected softly, though he obeyed. “And they’ll give me blisters.”
Briar grinned up at the older man. “Trust me,” he said, and winked. He folded the long ends of the leaves up over Parahan’s feet and held them there as he summoned the woody veins out of the edges. They knitted at his direction, pulling the leafy edges together as tightly as if they had grown that way, binding two tough leaves into one. More veins drew the back and the stems up, closing them up along his heel.
Parahan muttered something in his native language.
“They should last until you’re out of the palace walls,” Briar said, testing the seams as he made the stems softer. “Then you can switch them for anything else except your own bare feet.”
“Won’t they be able to trace your magic?” Parahan asked.
Briar and Evvy rolled their eyes. Briar replied, “From what we’ve learned here, they couldn’t trace ambient magic if they had torches and hounds. Now, let’s be off. May your gods watch over you.”
Parahan nodded and vanished into the shadows at the back of the Pavilion of Glorious Presentations.
Briar slung his arm around Evvy’s shoulder and steered her down a shortcut through the woods to the rear of their pavilion. “Don’t you ever try anything like this again without telling me.”
“I thought you might say no.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
“Maybe I would have.” Briar sighed. “You took some really big chances.”
“So did you.”
“We took them with Rosethorn’s life,” Briar told Evvy sternly. “You know I don’t like doing that.”
“She’s tougher than either of us.”
“No, she isn’t.” This wasn’t the first time they’d argued the point. Briar was positive it wouldn’t be the last. “She died. I was there. I don’t want her dying anymore. It’s bad for her. It’s why she talks slow, sometimes. And why she gets sick so easy.”
“You tell me so all the time,” Evvy retorted impatiently.
“And I’ll keep telling you till I’m sure you remember. I’m not going to tell Lark we got careless and that’s why we couldn’t bring Rosethorn home. And speaking of carelessness, what did he say to you that was so private?”
Evvy flinched. Then she said, “I swear, I’ll tell you once we’re away from the palace. It’s important, but I don’t want to talk about it anymore until we’re on the road. Please, Briar?”
She hardly ever begged these days except in play. He could tell she meant this. “Don’t make me regret waiting.”
“I won’t. I swear.”
In silence they returned to their beds. They saw and heard no one else on the way. No one stirred as they let themselves back into their pavilion. Silent at last, they walked into their rooms and lay down for what remained of the night.
Evvy hadn’t even thought she was asleep when she heard Rosethorn say, “Evumeimei Dingzai, we are leaving.”
She sat bolt upright. A maid knelt beside her with a cup of tea in her hands.
“Thank you,” Evvy said. She always thanked the servants. She knew it hurt their pride to wait on someone so much lower in rank than they were. To Rosethorn she said, “It won’t take me long to clean up and dress.”
The dedicate was dressed in her wool traveling habit and wide-brimmed hat. “See that it doesn’t. We still have to load Briar’s shakkans and your cats.” She left the room.
“I know,” Evvy muttered, and drank her tea. The maid combed out her braid and did it up again while Evvy cleaned her teeth. She left Evvy to dress, having learned the girl didn’t like help if she didn’t need it. In happy solitude, Evvy pulled on the light cotton tunic and leggings she had laid out the afternoon before. On went her stockings and her comfortable riding boots. Already she felt wide-awake and eager. It had nothing to do with her tea and everything to do with wearing simple clothes again. Once more she was herself, not some street rat pretending to be nobility in the imperial court!