Page 51 of Feathered Thief

Lenka’s blood chilled.

“Stop it.” Kornelia rolled her eyes. “A lot more people than that have tried, and nobody’s been executed. Papa always talks the thieves into stealing some treasure for him from Plock Castle. The thieves all agreed to the bargain, but they never returned. I mean, whowouldreturn empty-handed to be executed?”

“Good point.” Lenka felt almost limp with relief.

“I overheard Papa tell the last one before him”—the younger sister pointed at Lenka—“that he could have the bird as a reward if he brought us the treasure from Plock Castle.”

“Did you just make that up?” Kornelia asked with a frown.

Malgosia gave her a smug look. “The point is that, thanks to this thief”—she pointed at Lenka—“Papa no longer has the bird. Not that he really would have traded it to anyone anyway.”

Wondering if either of the Trinec princes had made it this far, Lenka asked, “Has a very handsome prince with glossy black hair attempted to steal the bird?”

Kornelia heaved a dramatic sigh. “I wish! If a prince like that comes around, I’ll run off with him and never return.”

“Ha! What about your betrothed?” Malgosia sounded accusing.

“What betrothed? I haven’t seen him since that mage brought the cursed bird here.”

“What mage?” Lenka asked, her heart leaping.

Kornelia turned her languid gaze upon Lenka. “The mage who laid the curses on Ostrów. He wore a hooded robe, so all I can tell you is that he’s tall and skinny. Ever since he brought the bird, every day here has been the same—aside from the occasional failed theft—and none of us can leave the castle grounds, let alone the barony.”

“I hate that bird,” Malgosia snapped. “I’m glad you made it fly off, and I hope never to see it again! Ugh! It’s horribly cold in here. Goodbye!” After one last shudder, she flounced out of the jailhouse.

The older sister waited a few moments, then narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. “I can hardly remember anything about our lives before this curse-thing happened, but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you before . . . and I know you’re a girl.” She suddenly sounded and looked like an entirely different person.

When Lenka went very still, Kornelia smiled a little, shaking her head. “I won’t tell a soul. I don’t know what my father might offer if youdidmanage to bring him a treasure from Castle Plock, but I wouldn’t trust him an inch. None of the other thieveshave brought him anything, and nothing has changed in the past five years. If I were you, I would agree to fetch the next treasure and then run for my life.”

Lenka mentally scrambled to update her opinion of Lady Kornelia of Chelm Castle. “Thank you for telling me all this, my lady. Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on, and I feel like I’ve already messed everything up.”

“Maybe you have, or maybe not,” she said.

Hearing hesitation in her voice, Lenka had to ask, “Is there something more?”

Kornelia winced and chewed her lower lip, then began nodding and couldn’t seem to stop. Tears dribbled down her flushed cheeks. “If you see Czwarty—that’s his nickname—he’s Prince Szymon’s namesake . . . He might not even remember me, but if you see him, please tell him—” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard, dropping her gaze. “Please tell him I remember him, miss him terribly, and I’ll wait forever if I must.”

Abruptly she stared into Lenka’s eyes. “And if my father intends to harm you, I’ll find a way to get you out of here.”

“But you just said you would run off with?—”

“I didn’t mean a word of it.” She shook her head. “But Malgosia can’t keep a secret, and if she tells my parents how I feel, they’ll marry me to the next peddler who shows up. After some stupid border dispute, my father considers Prince Szymon a swindler. He lumps Czwarty into the same category, but it’s not fair—Czwarty is nothing like his horrid father. Neither is Twardo. They’re both good men. If you go to Plock Castle and see Czwarty . . .” Her face crumpled.

True respect for Lady Kornelia bloomed in Lenka’s heart. “I think we could be friends under better circumstances. If I get the chance, I’ll tell Czwarty that you’re waiting for him.”

“I must go now. May God bless you!” Kornelia slipped her soft hand through the bars, and Lenka gently squeezed it.

At nightfall, Lenka curled up under her one skimpy blanket to shiver and feel sorry for herself. Despite Lady Kornelia’s unexpected friendship, her prospects seemed dim. Setting the bird free might well be a worse crime in the baron’s eyes than outright theft would have been.

Still, she didn’t regret her choice. “I pray that Solara will never be held captive again,” she murmured.

A whiny voice interrupted Lenka’s dreams: “What have you done?”

“Fox!” she croaked, sitting bolt upright, and the manacle on her ankle dropped to the floor. On the floor beside her cot, the fox sat upright in a pool of silvery light. The door to her cell stood open, and the fox’s eyes sparked with fury.

“I gave you simple instructions. You did not follow them.”

She barely remembered to behave like a boy. “I found the bird, and I didn’t speak aloud until I set her free.”

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