The Shadow Guard Read online

  Copyright © 2016 by J. D. Vaughn

  Cover illustration © 2016 by Kelley McMorris

  Cover design by Joann Hill

  All rights reserved. Published by Disney • Hyperion, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney • Hyperion, 125 West End Avenue, New York, New York 10023.

  ISBN 978-1-4231-9588-7

  Visit www.DisneyBooks.com

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  FOR FIRST-BORN COLE ZIMMER

  AND SECOND-BORN RYAN DURANGO,

  WITH LOVE AND MORE LOVE

  AND YOUR FAVORITE MEALS

  Under no circumstances shall a servant approach a Royal without permission from a Palace Court attendant.

  —CH. N. TASCA, Palace Etiquette

  The second Brindl registered the frayed rope, the wrought-iron chandelier, and the princess sitting beneath it, her body moved of its own accord.

  Run! the voice inside her head commanded, though she was halfway across the drawing room by then.

  Princess Xiomara sat with her back to Brindl and her head down, studying the parchments that lay on the desk in front of her, oblivious to the impending danger. Her dark hair hung unadorned, cascading down the simple white gown that was her preferred uniform.

  “Princess!” Brindl yelled, as the rope snapped above them.

  Brindl dove toward Xiomara, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pulled her under the heavy wooden desk.

  CRASH!

  Brindl held her breath as the tabletop splintered underneath the massive weight of the chandelier. Please hold, please hold, please hold, she thought, covering Xiomara’s body with her own and folding her arms over the princess’s head for extra protection.

  The desk groaned and cracked, but the sturdy, solid oak legs held.

  Brindl let out a long sigh and slowly released the princess. “Many pardons, Your Highness. I hope you’re not hurt?”

  The princess had buried her face in her hands and now let out a few muffled sobs.

  Brindl tilted her head and raised her eyebrows.

  The princess continued to sniffle, her shoulders shaking at the fright she’d just received.

  “But you’re not the princess, are you?” Brindl asked, though she already knew the answer. Princess Xiomara was not one to sniffle.

  The young woman shook her head and dropped her hands from her face. “No,” she said, wiping her tears.

  Of course, Brindl realized. It was Layna, lady’s maid to Princess Xiomara. The two often dressed in the same simple style of the Moon Guild. From behind they looked nearly identical.

  “Forgive me, Lady Layna,” Brindl said, pulling the trembling young woman from beneath the desk. “Mind your head—”

  “What in Elia’s name happened here?” interrupted a voice from behind them.

  Zarif. Brindl would know that refined voice anywhere, though she rarely saw its owner. In fact, she rarely saw any of her old Alcazar friends since they had been assigned to Xiomara’s service in the royal city three moons ago.

  “The rope…it was frayed,” began Brindl, trying to compose herself before meeting his gaze. She and Zarif had been close once, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. Now with Zarif installed as Xiomara’s counselor, and Brindl as Master of Messages, the two of them had agreed early on to put a halt to their relationship. There were rules in the palace, strict rules, especially for lady servants such as Brindl. And Zarif’s service to Princess Xiomara, Tequende’s Queen-in-Waiting, was far more important than the feelings they’d once shared. Brindl understood that.

  Still, she missed him.

  Zarif frowned at the rope, which now lay across the floor, then turned his attention to Layna. “You’ve obviously had quite a scare,” he said, taking her by the elbow.

  “I’ll be fine,” she whispered, though her face remained pale, nearly matching her gown. “Had Brindl not arrived when she did—” Her voice began to quiver and she blinked back more tears. “Had she not pulled me beneath the desk—”

  Zarif nodded, then glanced at Brindl. “It sounds like Brindl arrived just in time, thank the Gods.”

  By then, several palace servants and guards had entered the room to investigate the loud crash. Brindl watched Zarif take command of the growing crowd as though born to lead, despite the crutches and amputated leg he’d suffered not long ago. “Escort Lady Layna back to her quarters, please,” Zarif ordered, directing his comments to two maids. “The rest of you can clear this mess. And summon the chamberlain to have that chandelier restrung,” he added, frowning again at the rope. “Tell her I’d like a word when she’s done.”

  The assembled group murmured in assent, then quickly began to carry out the tasks. Brindl hesitated, unsure if she’d been included in Zarif’s orders, though she hadn’t yet carried out her own business. She cleared her throat behind him.

  Zarif turned, and Brindl saw his face soften just the smallest bit. He misses me, too, she realized, watching him shake his head as if to clear it. Though he works hard to overcome it.

  “Brindl, thank you for your quick actions today. You may well have saved Layna’s life,” he said, glancing at the debris. Three muscular guards now wrestled with the heavy, iron chandelier, trying to disengage it from the splintered desk. “How did you come to be here in Xiomara’s drawing room?”

  Brindl stuck a hand in the pocket of her tunic and pulled out a tiny scroll. “A message from the Queen’s Sword. It’s marked private, so I thought I’d deliver it myself. Doesn’t the princess join you here in the afternoon?” she asked, trying to respond with equal formality.

  “Yes, we usually review correspondence at this time, though today we were summoned to a meeting with the Queen. Xiomara sent Layna here in her stead to reply to some invitations.”

  “I see. Shall I leave this message with you, then?”

  Zarif nodded and extended his palm.

  Brindl dropped the small scroll into the elegant brown hand that had held hers so many times before. When she lifted her eyes to meet his, she found them already gazing at her, as if trying to read her thoughts.

  “Very well,” Brindl said with a slight curtsy. “I’ll return to the aviary now if you have no need for me.”

  “You’ve helped enough today,” he said. “You’re free to go.” As Brindl turned to leave, Zarif spoke again, lowering his voice. “I believe Tali and Chey are coming for tea in the library tonight at nine bells. Will you join us?”

  Brindl’s heart lifted. Finally, she would see her old friends. “It would be my pleasure,” she said, trying to keep the smile from her face.

  “Until then,” Zarif said, with a curt nod of dismissal.

  “Until then,” Brindl repeated, but Zarif had already turned his attention back to the work at hand.

  As soon as Brindl entered the rooftop aviary, Pip
began to chirp in excitement and flap his tiny wings. Brindl reached into the small cage and scooped up the baby bluejacket. She had named him Pip, for he was the runt of the flock, though what he lacked in size he more than made up for in pluckiness.

  She stroked the bird’s downy feathers, smiling at his contented coos. Pip loved to be held, and Brindl was pleased to oblige. “At least you look happy to see me each day,” she said, tickling Pip’s head with the tip of her fingernail.

  Brindl carried him across the roof between towers and spires to the western edge of the palace. A wooden storage locker used to hold arrows and other weapons provided her a perfect perch from which to gaze over the stone battlement surrounding the roof.

  As she seated herself on the trunk, a highland wind sent a shiver across her shoulders, but the spectacle in front of her was worth the risk of a cold. From here she could see the entire city of Fugaza laid before her like a tapestry.

  The Sun God Intiq had just begun his descent toward the Sentry Hills, which encircled the city like a mother’s arms. The Queen’s Palace, hewn from the eastern ring of the hills, towered over the valley like an eagle guarding its nest. Down below, the great Magda River gurgled at the foot of the palace, providing a natural moat. A three-tiered bridge connected the palace grounds to the rest of the city, which bustled with activity. Buildings of every shape and size filled the valley, though they all shared the same whitewashed walls, arched doorways, and caramel-colored roof tiles. Clean, cobbled roads ran through the city like ribbons, occasionally skirting bright green parks, sparkling blue fountains, or the numerous flower gardens that provided splashes of color in the city of white.

  Compared to the humble village of Zipa where Brindl had been raised, the scene in front of her seemed almost pretend, as if from a whimsytale her grandfather once told her. Though I should have expected no less of a city built by Moon Guilders, she mused.

  The thought of Moon Guilders made her crane her neck over the battlement to see if she might spot any of her friends on one of the balconies below. Empty. Only once had she seen Tali, Chey, and Zarif on the central balcony that jutted over the river. She’d been tempted to call down to them, and almost did so, when she remembered herself and swallowed her words. That was more than two weeks ago. She’d not caught a glimpse of them since.

  Brindl tried to ignore the lump in her throat. “They’re very busy, you see,” she explained to Pip, who bobbed his head toward her, as if listening. “They have important jobs here at the palace and much to do.”

  Pip fluttered his wings and pecked gently at Brindl’s fingers.

  “Still, you’d think they could spare a moment to sit on the roof with us,” Brindl added with a wistful smile. “Just look what they’re missing.”

  She knew she should be happy—grateful even. Honored. Princess Xiomara, the Queen-in-Waiting of Tequende, had assigned Brindl to be her official Master of Messages. The title was merely a fancy term for pigeonkeep, but that was no matter. As a member of Xiomara’s retinue, she’d been given her own quarters—her own tower, in fact—near the rooftop aviary. Wasn’t it better to have her own lovely rooms, appointed with featherbed, desk, and a whole case of books, rather than be placed with all the other servant girls in the overcrowded, lower level of the palace near the raging river?

  Brindl stifled a sigh. She loved her tower. She truly did. She enjoyed her quiet rooftop life, tending the baby birds, reading the books, and admiring the spectacular sunset every day. But the isolation from the other servants, and especially her old friends from the Alcazar, sometimes brought on a sudden wave of loneliness. She longed to exchange a laugh with them, to hear about their adventures in the palace below. At times it felt as if they’d forgotten her. And she ached for Saavedra, the old mentor who had taught her not only how to tend bluejackets, but how to think about the world in new ways.

  And he would never allow you to wallow in this pity, she reminded herself.

  She stood then, determined to concentrate on her new tasks and push the loneliness from her mind. Brindl stuck her pointer finger out to Pip, who stepped onto the perch, gripping it tightly with his tiny talons. As they strolled along the roof, Brindl raised her arm up and down, forcing the baby bird to extend his wings and practice gaining balance. Every few minutes she would reward him with honey-roasted seeds from her pocket.

  She tried to spend at least a quarter hour daily with each of the fledglings this way. Although Saavedra had never tended baby birds during their work together at the Alcazar, he’d left meticulous notes about how to raise and train them. The breeding pair of bluejackets and twelve fledglings now in her care had been a gift from Villa del Norte, one of the realm’s few aviaries spared the widespread bluejacket poisoning during the Battle for the Alcazar.

  So many dead birds, Brindl thought, and Saavedra, too.

  He had been gone nearly six moons now. As the days slid by, the pinch of grief had slowly been replaced by the warm memories she had of the man who had once been high counselor to the Queens of Tequende. How he would love to see me here in Fugaza, working in the palace as he himself once did, Brindl thought with a grin. Even if I am just a pigeonkeep.

  The smile left her face as soon as she spied the tall, angular form of the chamberlain across the roof, striding purposefully in Brindl’s direction.

  “Oh no, Pip,” murmured Brindl, tucking the bird into her apron pocket and smoothing her skirt. “What have I done now?”

  As the chamberlain neared, Brindl braced herself for the lecture that was to come, for Nadea Tasca of the royal family did not open her thin-lipped mouth unless it was to give order or admonishment. Brindl feared the latter.

  “Brindl Tacora!” she barked, her eyes sweeping Brindl up and down.

  “Yes, Chamberlain.” Brindl wondered how the woman could think straight with her hair pulled back so severely into a single oiled braid. Maybe she’s trying to smooth out her frown lines. Only it’s not working.

  “Under whose orders did you deliver a message to the Queen-in-Waiting’s private quarters this afternoon?”

  Brindl cleared her throat. She knew from experience there would be no correct answer. “Under no one’s orders, Chamberlain. As Xiomara’s Master of Messages, I thought I should take it myself.”

  The chamberlain pressed her lips together, making her look even more peevish, if such a thing were possible. “You told me you could read, despite your Earth Guild upbringing. Were you lying?”

  Brindl clinched her fists and tried to keep her face from flushing. “I was not, Chamberlain.”

  “Then exaggerating, perhaps, to gain your position here?”

  Honestly, Brindl thought. I could kick her. She stood up straighter, though she still had to lift her chin to meet the tall woman’s eyes, which galled her. “I did no such thing.”

  The chamberlain sniffed. “Perhaps you’re just slow-witted then. I suggest you reread the copy of Palace Etiquette I gave you your first day here. I did not write that manual for it to be ignored. Queen Twenty-two herself commissioned it from me. Commit it to memory this time. In the future, you will request permission before you approach a Royal. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Chamberlain.”

  “And get that filthy bird out of your apron.”

  Brindl looked down to see Pip’s head peeking out of her apron. “Cheep CHEEP CHEEEEP!” the bird called loudly, as if in protest.

  The chamberlain stiffened, then pivoted on one perfectly polished heel and walked briskly across the roof.

  Brindl clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing and scooped Pip out with the other. “You naughty thing,” she whispered to the little bird. “Careful, or she’ll throw us both from the roof, and you haven’t got your wings yet.”

  Servants are strictly forbidden to engage socially with palace guards and attendants. All lady servants must report to their sleeping quarters by nine bells sharp each evening, unless otherwise instructed by the chamberlain.

  —CH. N. TASCA,
Palace Etiquette

  Brindl hesitated before the library door, unsure whether to knock first. The chamberlain’s earlier reprimand had made her second-guess every move for the rest of the day, lest she be caught scratching her nose or walking on the wrong side of the hallway. Brindl glanced over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t being watched, then pushed the door open. She poked her head inside, relieved when she saw her three friends sitting at a far table.

  As always, the Queen’s Library gave her pause. The cavernous room towered three stories tall, with giant arched windows reflecting the candles and lanterns within. Thousands of volumes of books curved around the circular room, accessed by wooden staircases and balconies that wrapped themselves throughout the shelves like vines. Brindl almost felt dizzy gazing at the height and volume of books inside the chamber. How many lifetimes would it take to read so many books? she wondered, craning her neck to see them all.

  “Brin!” a young man called, rising from his chair and smiling.

  Brindl crossed the room and let Chey Maconde draw her into a fierce hug. Though she knew him for an Earth Guilder, he had shed all outward signs of his farm family upbringing and humble roots. He now wore the coveted uniform of the Second Guard, which hung handsomely from his broad frame, his once long hair trimmed closely to his tan face. He almost looks intimidating, Brindl thought, except that his eyes are still warm as a mug of chocolate.

  “It’s good to see you, friend,” she said, returning his embrace.

  “Thank Intiq you’re finally here!” Tali interrupted, pulling Brindl into a nearby chair. “I thought I might be stuck with these two lugs all night.”

  Brindl laughed as Tali began to pour tea. The Second Guard uniform didn’t fit Tali as nicely as it did Chey, too big in the arms and waist. Her hair had been pulled back in a single braid, like the chamberlain’s, though several curled wisps had pulled loose around her face. Pretty as ever, Brindl decided, though she’d hate me to say so.

  Zarif rose to assist Tali and turned to Brindl. “It’s nice to see you again, Brindl, under more pleasant circumstances this time.”