Page 72 of Storm to Victory
Pip might as well help with this touching family reunion. She pulled open the bars of her own cell again, crossed the space, and reached for the bars of Prince Edmund’s door. “Here. Allow me.”
Jayna jumped, her deep brown eyes swinging to take in Pip for the first time. But she just nodded her thanks, slipped through the opening Pip created, and stepped into her dacha’s hug. Prince Edmund wrapped his arms around his daughter, holding her close and murmuring words that were broken with emotion and too low for Pip to hear.
Pip’s throat clogged, and she turned away for a moment, blinking rapidly. How she missed her own dacha. She’d seenhim far too briefly when he and Muka had returned from the dwarven mountains.
She just wanted to go home. To the far western rail terminal. To the sounds of the clacking wheels on the tracks, the chug of the trains, the whistles piercing the still night. Mak’s hugs, her dacha’s quiet strength, her muka’s boisterous laughter. All those beautiful, peaceful moments untouched by death and war.
Yet home was so achingly far away. It wasn’t even just the physical distance, though that was great.
But Pip herself had changed so much. She wasn’t sure if it was even possible for her to return to the home she longed for.
She had a new home now. One where she was held safe and secure in Fieran’s arms. Where she fixed aeroplanes and laughed with her squadron. And, perhaps someday, her home would be brick buildings filled with inventions and magic in Aldon.
But that didn’t mean she didn’t get a pang of twisting melancholy when she thought of the home that was slipping away from her more every day.
When she dared glance over her shoulder, Prince Edmund was gently breaking the hug. “As glad as I am to see you, the guards will be suspicious if you stay much longer. Can you sneak back tonight?”
Jayna hesitated and looked at Pip. “You must have some kind of iron magic?” When Pip nodded, Jayna pointed toward the other end of the passageway where it turned a corner. “This prison used to be part of the servants’ wing before it was converted into a dungeon. They walled off that end of the passageway with a piece of steel. If you could open that…”
Pip nodded again, her throat still too clogged with the emotion of a moment before to speak. She wasn’t sure how Prince Edmund and Jayna could be so calm about this after being reunited for the first time in who knew how long.
Although, something told Pip the time they’d been apart was far less than two years.
“Then I’ll come that way tonight. If I don’t have to go past guards, I can bring more food. And some salve.” Jayna gave Prince Edmund one more quick hug before she slipped through the bars again. “I’d better go.”
“You…um…got a little something…” Pip motioned to Jayna’s front.
Jayna glanced down at herself and grimaced. The front of her apron had several blood spots, thanks to hugging Prince Edmund. “Well, that’s not great. Here, take the bread and water, and I can hold the tray to hide my apron.”
Pip grabbed the plates with bread from the tray, then the two cups of water. Jayna picked up tray and positioned so that it would hide the stains from the guards. With one last glance at Prince Edmund, she hurried down the passageway, saying loudly in a perfect Mongavarian accent, “Don’t complain, Escarlish scum. That’s all the food you’re going to get.”
Pip shook herself, shoved Prince Edmund’s water and bread to him, and returned his bars to normal. She had barely gotten herself back into her own cell and straightened the bars before Jayna reached the top of the stairs and called for the guards to let her out.
Once she was gone, the door closed firmly behind her, Pip sat on the floor behind her barred door. “So that’s Jayna. I see she’s in the family business.”
“Yes, she is.” Prince Edmund’s bruised smile still managed to hold a fond, fatherly warmth. He, too, sat on the floor at the end of the length of his chains, which prevented him from reaching the door.
Pip bit into the piece of bread. The crust was too hard, and the inside had gone dry. Yet while the bread was somewhat stale, it wasn’t moldy or otherwise spoiled. When she drank from theglass, the water was clear and tasted fine. “It’s sparse, but not what I was expecting for prison food.”
“It isn’t like the cooks keep watery gruel and spoiled vegetables sitting around just in case they have prisoners who need to be fed something awful.” Prince Edmund shrugged, then winced as if the movement hurt. “We’ll probably be fed random kitchen scraps of varying quality. Whatever Jayna can bring us will help. We might have to be careful how much we eat, though. The guards might notice if their prisoners get too fat.”
“So we’re staying?” Pip gnawed off another bite of the bread.
“Can you think of a more comfortable hiding spot? We have private rooms, decent beds, and meals delivered to us each day. Even a convenient and secret way in and out.” Prince Edmund set aside what was left of his bread. Perhaps chewing the tough crust hurt too much on his swollen jaw. “All in all, we’re strategically placed in the heart of the enemy’s palace. As long as they don’t turn their torture on you, I don’t see any reason why we can’t spend a more or less pleasant week here.”
Comfortable and pleasant wasn’t exactly what Pip would have called it, especially since she doubted this would be the last time Prince Edmund would be beaten, but she could see how this would be somewhat preferable to trying to hide in some squalid hole while being hunted by Mongavarian soldiers.
Something about what he said niggled at her. “Strategically placed?”
Prince Edmund’s smile turned into something downright dangerous. “Oh, yes. We might as well put this week to good use. How do you feel about becoming a spy?”
Chapter
Twenty-One
Fieran woke as the sunset splashed a deep orange against the deeper blue and purple of the evening sky. After stretching, he and Aaruk awkwardly scrambled to exchange places. Aaruk stretched out on the mattress while Fieran settled with a sigh and a hand pressed to his wound into the front passenger seat.
“We should stop to look at that.” Dacha gestured briefly at Fieran’s side before he returned the hand to the wheel.
