Yesterday's Prince

35. A Subtle Magic: Uther

He splashed his hands in the dripping water, washing the dirt away. There was daylight, distant but clear, and they had arrived together like Malmordra promised. There were aches in his insides—his brother, his stolen home, his own body—but going forward required not poking those places. Not now, not when they were close to a victory. They'd snuck around behind Arniel's back and slipped through his defenses.

Watch out, uncle. You aren't the only one who's clever, he thought.

"There's a ladder," Septimus said and gestured above the tunnel.

"It's a ladder...of sorts," Uther said, reaching up and fingering the first stony handhold, which was slick with moss.

"Well, let's do smallest to largest to test how much weight it holds," Brinn said, lifting Rosebud up first. She scrabbled up with ease and slipped through the iron portcullis above.

The four of them waited below, craning their necks over the edge to catch a glimpse of her. She'll be alright, Uther told himself. He worried about her because she was so small, and he felt not many people in her life wanted her. He was glad to have her. They didn't know what waited above the iron bars.

Rosebud stuck her head back through and hissed. She motioned with one, long flapping hand for them to hurry. Septimus went next, but he moved considerably slower and cursed under his breath.

"It's slick," he called, only half-way up the ladder.

"Can you make the top?" Uther asked.

Without looking back down, Septimus said, "I'm more worried about the iron grate above me—the one I can't slip through being that I'm not goblin-sized."

"Come back down, and one of us will go and try to budge it," Brinn said.

"That...is...not...happening," Septimus said. He clung to the wall, and his forearms shook like reeds in a wind.

"I didn't know you were afraid of heights," Uther said.

"I'm afraid of falling to my death off a slippery wall!"

"You can't hang there! You'll fall! Get moving!" Brinn shouted.

In a burst of speed, Septimus clamored the entire way to the top, where he pressed himself against the iron. He panted, trying to shift the bars above him with Rosebud's help. Uther shot Brinn a worried glance.

"You'll have to come back down if you can't budge it, and I'll go up next," Brinn tried to coax Septimus back again.

"No I...I—"

The grate shifted, grinding across the granite stones above. Rosebud squealed and ran, and Septimus hauled himself over the edge.

"Hey! Who're you?" a man asked, his voice high with surprise. It was he, not Septimus, who moved the grate aside.

Brinn scrambled up the ladder with Uther several rungs behind her. He heard the man draw a sword and shout, "These passages are sealed!"

"Not so well," Brinn said, hauling herself onto the landing. She drew her weapon as well.

"Don't hurt him, he moved the grate," Uther said, hauling himself up with a grunt. The man gasped and drew back.

"M-my lord," the man stammered and dropped to one knee. Brinn's jaw slipped open, but she lowered her sword to guard position. Uther's insides shivered, but a cunning plan that was so obvious hatched in his head. He had his uncle's body, and this was his uncle's castle. Hopefully, he thought, none of these men would be wise to what his uncle had done.

"That's right, I am back...you bloody fool," Uther said, dropping his voice a bit and trying to be a bit more like Arniel. He wasn't a good actor, but if his uncle could do this, so could he. He caught Septimus rolling his eyes and made a point to not look at his friend.