Mirror

Chapter 7 - Ash

"Lady Empress, your father and his men have altered their course to help Tundira. They were intercepted by a Tundiran messenger," he explained, fear clear in his expression. "He... he was half-crazed, burn marks on his face. Must've been pretty bad up there if there was actually fire in Tundira."

"I have to go," North said. Ash wanted to plead for him to stay, beg for him not to go. But, instead, she said: "Then go. What are you waiting for?" She wished she hadn't said that, but the words were already out. She forced herself to look into his anguished eyes without flinching or showing any emotion.

"I understand," Aspen said quietly.

"My mother will stay here. I must ride fast if I want to catch up," he said.

"You may take a horse from our stables. Juniper," she looked at her lady-in-waiting.

"What?" Juniper jumped, looking up at the string that she was tugging from her sleeve.

"Take these good men to the kitchen for food supplies. And hurry, please," Aspen said.

"I'm going," Birch said firmly.

"You are not. You went and broke your arm, so now you have to sit here," Aspen said.

"Dad could get hurt. Can't China do some magic fingers and fix up my arm in seconds?" Birch asked dryly.

"That's Saint China to you," China said grumpily and swept out of the room, clearly miffed by his question.

"You know she can't do that, Birch," Aspen said.

"Because she doesn't want to," Birch said.

"You're not going, and that's final."

Ash watched regretfully as North, Juniper, and the soldiers disappeared from the room in sullen silence.

"Sloe, make sure they do not leave this room," Aspen said, then swooped out of the room with a slamming of doors. Ash and Birch exchanged a furtive glance, then both bolted for the doors.

"Now, hold on just a minute-" Sloe started after them. "Your mother said she wanted you two to go to your rooms. You'd better be going there."
"Of course, Lady Sloe," Ash said, racing along the halls, not heeding her shredding dress.

"Let's go to your room. Mom never said we had to separate," Birch said.

"Okay. But first let's lose the Sloe-poke," Ash jerked her head towards the woman who puffed after them, blue dress swinging back and forth and face shining glossily. Birch pointed his chin to the left slightly, and they darted down a smaller hallway. He knew the ins and outs of the palace layout. He could disappear down one stairway and pop out from behind the painting of the late King Hickory in the library.

The sound of their footsteps were drowned out by the carpet.

"Follow me," Birch whispered, and ducked into a vent that swung open with a loud squeak. It was awful. Not only was it smelly, it was dark. Ash wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she was afraid of the dark.

"Birch... are you sure about this? Can't we just outrun Sloe? It won't be that hard," she said. "What's the point of getting all dusty?"

"Oh, don't be scared. This is quicker," Birch said, crawling forward on his good hand and knees. He gave her an encouraging smile that she was both grateful for and annoyed at. It felt like a crypt to Ash. She could imagine the darkness pressing down around her, sealing her in her burial coffin. They seemed to be going nowhere, turning randomly and at an excruciatingly slow pace.

"Here we are," Birch said, opening a vent before pushing a wooden door open. It turned out to be the cupboard in Ash's bathroom. The siblings clambered out.