I couldn't remember the last time I had been so happy to climb into Elias's carriage and set off down the road. I was humming with excitement, bouncing my leg and staring blissfully out the window. It seemed like ages before the road opened up into the countryside and we left the crowded city behind. It was a long journey ahead of us, but I was here for every second of it. At its end, I would see Mother again.

It was several days out to Bevuin. Elias announced we would stay at similar inns as we had when he brought me in for my execution. It was only after he wouldn't meet my eye that I realized we might be doing something against his orders, and I liked the idea of it even more.

"You will wear this cloak and keep your head low," he told me the first night we stopped. The cloak in question was thick, marked with the king's sigil on its back. Its hood was lined in silver thread. It matched his perfectly. "Let me do the talking. I doubt you will be recognized. If you are, let me handle it."

"Won't it be suspicious that you're here with me at all?"

"Students from Aetheria Academy are valued among the knights. You are merely on loan to me for a mission. That is all."

"Don't say it like that." I wrinkled my nose. I wasn't on loan to anyone for anything, and I never would be.

He searched my face and found my obvious disgust, then he apologized somewhat quicker than I expected. After that, we filed out of the carriage and into the rain. He pulled my hood low over my head until I could barely see past the fabric. The rain did slick right off it though.

It was under this ruse that our journey went uninterrupted. It was as he had said—no one questioned my presence save for one particularly nosy old innkeeper, and she quickly relented at Elias's practiced excuse. I knew graduating students were shuffled into court positions if they had earned enough marks, but I'd never thought about how valuable any student would be. I wondered how normal it was for magic-bearers to be on loan for special cases.

I wondered if those special cases included my framing. An illusionist had clearly been present at the time, Elias had confirmed it himself. A shiver went down my spine. I blamed it on the sigil resting there. I was, after all, clothed in the mark of my father for the first time in a long time. Perhaps the first time ever.

I was dozing when we rolled up to the gates of Bevuin. The carriage pulled to a stop, rattling on the rough road, and I jolted awake. Voices—the guards speaking to the driver. Elias pulled back the curtain just enough to peer outside. His relaxed posture told me it was nothing to be concerned about. I knew it was routine. The guards always stopped carriages and wagons to inquire about their business. Still, that didn't calm my heart any.

Or maybe it was beating so fast from excitement. I sat up and stretched toward the window for a better look outside, but we had started moving by then. The force shoved me back into my seat; Elias snorted as I flopped like a doll.

The streets of Bevuin were small, nothing like those in the castle cities where multiple carts could travel at the same time. They were barely wide enough for two side-by-side. It used to be there was only room for one at a time, Mother used to say, and sometimes the drivers would fight over who got to use the roads when. Like so many of her other anecdotes, I never knew if it was true. I used to ignore them—or her when I grew bored of them—but now I find myself missing them at the worst of times.

When Elias and I stepped out, we found ourselves outside the guardhouse stables. It was a temporary building, hastily constructed and already looking awkward and run-down. The king's men had never much cared for this town, being so far from the center of the kingdom. I guessed they were here to watch for me and doing a poor job of it.

A little ways away, the driver exchanged words with another man, probably the one overseeing the stables. Elias steered me in the opposite direction to unload my bags. "I'll be staying here," he told me, "but you will, of course, stay in your own home. So long as you behave."

"No running," I said. For once, I was earnest in my desire to stay. Besides, my ankle hurt just thinking about the last time I had tried to run here. I was not keen on jumping out my window again.

As we left the building behind and re-entered the streets, Elias yanked the hood of my cloak down over my face in a very inconspicuous manner. Surely this would never draw attention. I told him as much—in my best sarcastic voice—and he told me to be quiet. His continuous lack of humor startled me.

"While you wear this crest, no one will care how suspicious you appear," he said, one hand against my back, guiding me along. "You are not yourself but a messenger of your king; your actions are his, not yours."

There was some merit in the idea, and an evil, thorny part of me liked being covered by the crest so that I could act as foolish as I wished without personal consequence—but that was a dangerous and largely incorrect understanding of Elias's point, so I shoved it back down. However, walking through town, I caught the stray glance from familiar faces: the baker's wife, the girl selling flowers at the street corner, the wandering drunk who never seemed to care what time of day it was. When I was Celestine, they looked at my face and knew me. In this cloak, they looked at the crest and their expressions darkened.

I wondered how Elias could stand such a reception wherever he went. It made me want to tear the cloak off, remind everyone that I was filled with the same unrest, and then punch my uncle in the face for good measure. Elias had to have loads more self-control than me.

Mother's workshop stood just as quiet and unassuming as it had when I'd left, except that she'd acquired new signage at some point. The sign hung above the door, declaring her business and assuring the world she was still open. She might as well have mentioned the tragic and untimely demise of her only daughter to get more pity shoppers, but she didn't. Just a new sign.

Elias opened the door for me—which caused a little bell over it to jingle pleasantly. I stepped inside and was instantly greeted by the metallic, hot scent of machinery. There was always a certain dust in the air that assaulted me too, stinging my eyes. I coughed loudly, startled by the echo in the space. Something shut off behind the curtain at the back of the shop, then Mother came running from behind it.

When she saw me standing there, her breath caught and she stood frozen. Her graying hair was tied back in the same old braid, draped over her shoulder—though it looked rougher than usual with unruly ends sticking out. There was a spot of grease or polish or something on her face. Normally, she would strip her work gloves and come to greet me, but she just stood there, mouth open like a fish.

Not me. My tongue was too sharp to sit heavy and forgotten in my mouth. I sniffed. I blinked away the moisture in my eyes. I lifted my bag. "I haven't got any rocks for you today," I said. "I'd still like a shower, a nap, and dinner though, if you'll have me."

I'd never thought of my mother as a weeper or a hugger. We were close, the two of us, but we weren't particularly touchy-feely. An exception was made that day when she stumbled, half-running, across the store to me and bundled me into her arms. She'd never held me so tightly. She'd never kissed my head so many times. She'd never cried so long for me.

And it was then and there that I finally felt like a living girl again.

~~

The water was just as cold as I remembered. It was perhaps the only thing that made me miss Elias and Yvonne's house, where every shower could boil me alive if I wanted it to. Still, there was nothing quite like stepping out of my room into our quaint apartment and being greeted by Mother's cooking on the table. She insisted that Elias eat with us as well, so we had to scrounge the workshop to find a third chair for him. Then, the three of us sat down together.

"How much do you know about... well, anything that's going on?" I asked the moment I could no longer resist, which happened to be in the middle of Mother passing the bread basket around the table.

She paused, basket in hand. Her thoughtful gaze didn't stray from the warm, sliced bread. She plucked a piece from one side and then sent the basket along to Elias and myself. "I know things have gotten out of hand with Urias. He never should have put you in this position, and I don't appreciate his methods either. If I could, Celestine, you know I'd march there and give him a piece of my mind."

I did know that, which was why I wondered why she hadn't already. She didn't stop long enough to give me the chance to interject.

"Elias has told me everything, I believe. He also advised me to keep my head down."

"It's better for the both of you if you act beaten," said Elias, full of the worst kind of wisdom. "I don't intend to allow the situation to escalate out of hand."

It's been out of hand, I thought, but I chose not to remind him. Truth was he knew as much as I did. "What could you do to stop the king? You're a pawn as much as I am."

Mother and I both watched Elias closely, breath bated, while he broke his bread. It had an audible crispness to it, like the snapping of bones. "I refuse to be used again in ways that violate my conscience." From the darkness in his gaze, I truly thought he meant it.

In between the rest of our meal, Mother assured me that all was quiet, save for the sudden encroaching presence of the king's men in the town. Her observation was the same as mine—that Bevuin had always had a minor guardforce to watch the gate and nothing more, but now seemed overflowing with my father's crest. Though, I supposed it was my uncle's crest now, and somehow that was worse. When I asked if they had approached her, she hesitated and couldn't meet my eye. When I asked if they had hurt her or threatened her, she kept her silence.

My fingers curled. I felt the magic stir in the emptiness inside me, pulling cold from Death's flower at my waist. "I've done everything I've been asked to. If they hurt you, I—"

"No one has hurt me," she finally said, letting out a sharp breath. "All they do is watch, but the watching is menacing as it is. Even in Aeil, they watch me. I find them following close behind on the road too. They could snatch me up at a moment's notice, Celestine, and I'm sure that's what Urias has told them to do as soon as he gives the order."

Something was choking me. I stood. "You can't stay here."

"Where else am I to go?" Her gaze met mine, and she held firm until I saw the reflection of my own panic in her. It was a cage with no walls; there was no fleeing, and time was running out.

Elias cleared his throat, somehow slicing through the tension. Looking at him was enough to steady me, and I sank back into my seat. "Part of the reason for my coming is to set up a failsafe," he said, keeping his tone perfectly measured. It was surely the soldier in him that did so. "If Celestine reaches the end of six months unable to locate the target—"

"It won't happen." My mind was already whirling with potential subjects. I had nothing concrete, just a squishy sense of wrongness in every person. Well, save for a few.

"—but if it does, I have come to finalize some arrangements that will protect the two of you for a time. Celestine may be able to bargain for another semester to hunt if the king is pleased with her progress, but I am sure he would only grant that with some limitations. Such as taking a hostage as he promised. If it comes to that, I do have some men I trust to escort Ms. Elythier out of the borders of Aetheria."

Mother's face hardened. "I can't just leave."

"It will be better if you do."

"I won't be cowed into abandoning my daughter, my home, and everything I know."

The hollow magic within me stirred again, curling into something cold and mean at the pit of my stomach. "You won't have to," I said with my best silver tongue. "I have a plan, and I intend to catch the spy as soon as I return."

Celestine finally gets to reunite with her mom! :D I'm sure it will be all sunshine and rainbows from here.