Illuminated: Book One of the White Road Chronicles

Chapter 9

Intrigued, Princess stood and went to the door, opening it just a crack to find Lydia, Rog, and that loud-mouthed Jerin standing in the hall. Lydia carried a tray with a pot of tea and three cups on it. The smell of warm cookies hit her nose and she opened the door wider to let them in.

Lydia set the tray on a small bedside table. "Pardon the intrusion, dear. But we wished to speak to you privately."

Rog took a chair and placed it next to the window where he occasionally peered out through the dark curtains. Jerin sat on the edge of the bed, clasping his big hands in front of his knees.

Princess quickly moved her pack closer to her as she sat on the foot of the matress. "Look, I don't know what all this is about, but I don't want any trouble. So, I'll be out of here in the morning."

"Trouble is what you got, dearie," Lydia poured the tea into the three cups and began passing them around. "Whether you want it or not. There were unfriendly ears out there that heard your remarks about the dragon."

She stopped in front of Princess with the remaining cup. "Sugar or plain?"

"Um, plain?" she shrugged, taking the warm cup and sniffing at the contents. What if they had potions like Master to put people into a deep sleep? But nothing more than the scent of cinnamon and chamomile filled her nose. She took a sip, after watching Jerin and Rog sip from theirs. She sipped a bit more, thinking this had to be the best tea she'd ever had.

Lydia took the plate of cookies and handed them out next. "Listen, girl, if you've been tangled up with the Racan King's beast, and from your scorched hair and clothes, I'd say you were. Then there may be a price on your head."

Princess's mouth dropped. The cup began to slip from her hands when Rog reached over and grabbed it. They probably had drugged her so they could turn her in for the ransom. She lunged to her feet, heart pounding. They were going to turn her in. Glancing at the door, she considered running. The woman must have read her expression because she sidestepped to block the exit.

Jerin quickly stood and moved closer to Rog, offing an awkward bow. "Please excuse Lydia. She's all business. We aim to help, if we can. Sounds like maybe you have an interesting story. We just need to be certain whose side-" He lowered his voice to a whisper, "-you're on." He stared at her pointedly.

Rog leaned forward, the cup in one hand, and cookie in the other. "Since you came in with one tending to serve Racah first, we're a bit concerned. I'm sure you understand?"

"Serve Racah?" Princess asked, her voice squeaking like a wounded mouse. She had the Racan mark on her arm. What would they do if they found out? She set the cup and dessert back on the tray. She needed to leave. Now. Right now.

Lydia remained poised in front of the door, blocking her only way to freedom. Even if Princess managed to fight her way past the woman, which was unlikely, the men would have her before she could throw the first punch.

"She don't look so good," Rog wagged his head.

"Where you from, kid?" Jerin leaned against the wall. He'd gulped down the cookie in one bite and was reaching for another. "And what is your name?"

Princess glared at him, wondering if she should trust anyone that insisted on calling her a kid. Obviously she wasn't a child. Was he blind? Besides, he couldn't be too much older.

Her mind raced to form some kind of story to pacify them. Anything to keep them from turning her in. She'd not go back to Racah.

Lydia moved a couple of steps closer. In a surprisingly tender voice, she said, "We want to help you, honey. Did you escape really from...Racah? Every once in a while, we do have someone pass through. A very few have managed to escape. How did you—?"