Pjerin heard the door open and was suddenly terrified she'd left. "What are you doing?"
She turned her head toward him just long enough to snap, "Shut up!", then continued her search. If they've
moved it… But they hadn't. She pulled the door closed again. "I was just getting the key to the manacle."
"Oh." This was all happening just a little too fast. A
very short time ago, he'd been standing alone against the world, preparing himself for death. Now, all of a sudden, the person he'd thought responsible had turned up to offer him life. "And I suppose they leave the key hanging on a hook just outside the door?"
"That's right." Holding it tightly in her right hand, she stretched out her left and slid her feet across the floor. The last thing she wanted to do was to bump into Pjerin and have him jump to conclusions about the child she carried. "No reason why they shouldn't. You can't get to it."
That made sense. At least it made as much sense as anything else that had happened lately. "Annice, why didn't you believe I did it? Because of the night we spent together?"
She snorted, brushed her reaching ringers against his head, and quickly sidestepped to the back wall of the cell. "Don't flatter yourself, although I suppose that was part of it." From the ring, she found the chain and began tracing it to his wrist. "Don't move. This is going to be hard enough in the dark." Where was Tadeus when she needed him. "I took my memory of the man you were and I held it up against the man you appeared to be under Command and they didn't match."
"But all your training says that the man under Command is the true man."
"Yeah. So?"
Pjerin found himself honestly amused for the first time since he'd seen the distant group of travelers working their way up the valley. "And they're calling me stupidly arrogant."
The key turned with a metallic snick and the manacle fell open. Annice managed to snag it before it crashed into the floor, closed it again, and tucked it up into the corner. She rose awkwardly to her feet and moved away. "Come on. We're running out of time."
Pjerin stood, rubbing his wrist. "Come on where? Do we just waltz out past the guards? Are you going to Command them to look the other way?"
"There's a secret passageway between the last two cells in this row."
"How do you know that?"
"I'm a bard. We know everything."
Partway to the door, Pjerin stopped dead. "You'll for give me if I'm suspicious but, all things considered, I think I have reason. I want a real answer."
"You're getting your life…"
"I want a real answer."
"What difference does it make?"
"I'm tired of lies!"
"You'd rather die?"
"I'd rather know the truth!"
"You want the truth?" Annice threw her hands in the air and raked the cell with a glare she wished Pjerin could see. "I know where the passage is because I grew up in the palace. Surely you've heard the song of the Princess-Bard? All twenty-seven unenclosed verses of it? Now, can we go?"
He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but that wasn't it. "You're King Theron's youngest sister? Then why didn't you just go to him when…"
"Look, we don't talk, okay?"
"Not even for this?"
"I have my reasons. Can we discuss them later? Or would you rather discuss it with him on your way to the block?"
He felt warm fingers close around his and pull him forward. Still half expecting a trap, he stepped out of the cell. A glimmer of light showed under the door at the far end of the corridor, but other than that, the darkness remained absolute. His skin crawled as he realized that a hundred guards could be standing a sword's length away and he'd never know. An imperious hand pressed him up against the wall and left him there. Straining pointlessly to see, he heard the door close and the bar slide back across it followed by the faint chime of metal against stone as Annice—Annice, the king's youngest sister. This is getting stranger by the moment.—replaced the key. Then the fingers found his again and he followed their direction down the hall.
This has all the elements of one terrific song. Pulling Pjerin along behind her, Annice swept the wall with her free hand, searching for the entrance to the secret passage that she'd left slightly ajar. Let's just hope I survive long enough to sing it. She bit her lip as the baby kicked an enthusiastic endorsement. What am I going to tell him about..? At that moment, she stubbed her fingers on the protruding lip of stone and gratefully dropped the thought for more immediate concerns.
Tucking Pjerin up against the wall once more, she forced the block of stone around on stiff pivots. When she'd opened it originally, she'd been amazed that the tortured rasp hadn't brought the guards running. This time, she was only surprised that they hadn't yet responded to the deafening pounding of her heart, filling the corridor like the beat of a kettle drum. A quick swipe behind her found Pjerin's sleeve. She grabbed at the cloth, dragged him forward and, at the last instant before shoving him through the opening, reached up and yanked his head down—unfortunately, given the soft impact of flesh against stone, not quite far enough.
Biting back a curse, Pjerin shook himself free of her grip and tried the entrance again, this time guiding himself under the low lintel. He was relieved to find he could straighten once he was actually in the passageway and, rubbing at the rising lump on his forehead, he wondered how much longer they were going to spend in the dark. He took four paces, then paused, listening to Annice fight the block of stone back into place.
King Theron's sister. He'd heard the song about the Princess-Bard, years ago, and couldn't remember much of it; something romantic and asinine about her becoming a bard in spite of royal opposition. She seems to be making a habit of defying the king.
In spite of the darkness, he knew the moment the passageway was secure. The walls, already barely clearing his shoulders, began to close in. The air grew thicker and his breathing sounded loud in his ears. "Well?" he whispered. "Well what?"
"What about a light?"
Annice picked the lantern down off the ledge where she'd set it for safekeeping and thought about denying she had it with her. Unfortunately, they'd never find their way out in the dark. Because there wasn't anything else she could do, she fumbled for flint and steel, unwilling to risk fire not answering her Song.
Pjerin closed his eyes as the lantern flared, reasonably certain that she hadn't tried to blind him on purpose. Turning his back to the flame, he opened them a crack, then, with most of the light blocked by his body, opened them the rest of the way. Cobwebs hung like the ghosts of tapestries against the walls, torn and tattered by Annice's earlier passage. He glanced down at his shoulders, saw he already wore the life's work of several spiders and decided not to bother brushing them clean. Better to unwrap them, like a winding sheet, when freedom was finally achieved.
"All right." Pjerin pivoted back around to face her. "Where to n…" It took a moment for the full implications of what he saw to sink in.
"I came because I needed to talk to you. I'm willing to believe you didn't do it. I'm willing to believe something or someone made you lie under Bardic Command."
"But all your training says that the man under Bardic Command is the true man."
"I can't just let you die."