Page 59 of Kingdom of Locks

Aurelia caught the nameGustavon the front of the paper, and her heart twisted. Her life in the tower with Mama Gail was all she’d ever known—it was so easy to forget that the other woman had a family out there, whom she would be desperate to contact. Of course she wanted Amell to pass a message from her if he could.

“I’ll try,” he promised. Leaving the letter folded, he glanced over the list of ingredients. “Only three items?” he asked. “That shouldn’t be too hard.” He smiled at the two women. “I’ll leave straight away, the sooner to be back.”

With a smile of thanks, Aurelia began to thread her hair through the hook. After taking leave of them, Amell lowered himself down, hand over hand. Giving them a final wave, he disappeared into the tree line, leaving Aurelia gazing silently at an empty clearing.

“Well?” she asked, turning to her mother. “What do you think?”

Mama Gail grunted. “He seems genuine,” she admitted. She glanced at her daughter, her expression troubled as she ran a gentle hand through Aurelia’s long hair, untangling a knot. “But things aren’t always as they seem, Aurelia.”

“I know,” Aurelia said. She shot her mother a look. “You sound a little like Cyfrin, you know. You’ve always told me that he’s lying when he says I should be afraid of everyone and everything out there in the world. But the first time we actually encounter someone, you’re so suspicious anyone would think he was a monster.”

Mama Gail grimaced ruefully. “You have a point,” she acknowledged. She sent the younger woman a sly grin. “And if he brings me back cheesecake, I might even have to forgive him for being so dangerously handsome.”

Aurelia’s light laughter rang out across the clearing.

Chapter Thirteen

Amell picked his way through the grove, his thoughts on the two women in the tower. Honeysuckle’s mother was clearly suspicious of him, and he didn’t really blame her. If he had someone like Honeysuckle under his care, he’d probably be overly protective as well. It was equal parts endearing and alarming how completely innocent the girl was. An image flashed before his eyes, of the hopeful way she’d looked up at him through her lashes as she asked forlornly whether he’d only come to say goodbye.

It was downright distracting, and she was all the more enchanting because she had no idea of her charm. As a prince, Amell had been targeted by his fair share of flirtatious young ladies hopeful of climbing the social ladder. He couldn’t count the number of times one of them had looked at him in carefully crafted imitation of the precise expression Honeysuckle had worn. But in her case, it couldn’t have been clearer that there was no guile, no art. She was completely genuine, and completely entrancing. Not to mention she was possibly the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on.

And the sick, evil enchanter who’d trapped her in a tower all her life was suddenly trying to be kind to her, and modifying his plans to rely on her willing involvement.

Amell didn’t have to be an expert either in magic or in human behavior to recognize the signs of a particularly unsavory type of danger approaching the isolated girl. Honeysuckle had grown from a child into a breathtaking young woman before the enchanter’s very eyes. It had been clear that Honeysuckle’s mother was perfectly aware of what the nature of Cyfrin’s plans might be, and equally clear that no such thought had yet entered Honeysuckle’s head.

Amell suddenly realized that the muscles in his arm were strained, and his hand had closed into a fist, crushing the letter he was holding. He smoothed it out, determination filling him. He would just have to get both of them out before Cyfrin could do anything to destroy the innocence that drifted out from Honeysuckle’s every movement. And before the enchanter could extract any magic from her, thereby endangering her life.

Glancing down at the now crumpled parchment in his hand, Amell frowned. He was sure there’d been a name on the letter Abigail had given him, but now the top of the folded billet was blank. He flipped it open and sighed at the sight of empty parchment. It was disappointing, but not surprising. The other paper was blank too, and Amell squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to commit the three ingredients to memory. It was a good thing it hadn’t been more.

And what had Honeysuckle asked for? In addition to books, she’d wanted a list of the foundational principles of power, whatever they were. And Abigail had asked for cheesecake. Amell scratched the back of his neck. It was a lot to remember. He might need to write a list of his own.

When he emerged back into the clearing where the prison sat, he was met by a resigned looking Furn.

“Did you really have to sneak off from me, Your Highness?” he asked wearily. “I wouldn’t have tried to stop you. Your father will replace me if he thinks I’m not serving my function anymore.”

Amell gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Furn. But you would’ve been bored standing around again. And you were busy when I left.”

“If by busy you mean relieving myself for two minutes, then yes,” Furn agreed dryly.

“Well, I’m back now,” said Amell shamelessly. “And I’m hoping you’ll come with me this time. I want to return to Fernford.”

“To Fernford?” the guard asked, surprised. “I thought you wanted to stay here.”

“Change of plans,” said Amell. “I’d better tell my father.”

It didn’t take long to find the king, who listened with an unmoved expression to Amell’s announcement that he intended to return immediately to the capital after all.

“What a surprise,” said King Bern tonelessly. He cast a look over his son and sighed. “You know, Amell, at some stage you’re going to have to stick with a task for longer than five minutes.”

Amell frowned, feeling that the criticism was most unfair. He’d been at the prison for days now, and his father had been the one to offer him the option of returning to the capital the day before. But he didn’t give voice to these complaints, aware that his mind hadn’t exactly been on the crisis at hand, and that he couldn’t explain his distraction to his father.

“I intend to come back, Father,” he said instead. “I just want to visit the Enchanters’ Guild, and ask Bartholomew for more information that might help with my…search.”

“Is that so?” The king eyed him. “As it happens, I’m returning myself this afternoon. I received a message from my steward an hour ago, and it requires my personal attention.”

“I’ll be glad to see you there,” said Amell politely. “Do you mind if Furn and I leave now, and ride on ahead?”

“Go on with you,” said the king, waving a careless hand. “I imagine I’ll see you for dinner.” His voice turned stern. “Make sure you stay on the main road, and go straight back to the capital. That’s the only route that’s been fully cleared and maintained by the combined teams.”

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