I stood in the entryway, unsure of what to do or what was happening.

My eyes went back and forth, following my mother as she paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. The smell of ink lingered faintly in the air; looking at my mother’s writing desk, I saw some handwritten pages strewn across the surface, allowing the ink to dry. An unlit candle lay on the table next to the paper.

Mother was fidgeting with a simple gold necklace from which a small moonstone pendant hung. In my entire life, I had never seen my mother—stately, reserved Queen Melandria—fidget.

The gem caught my eye and I stared, drawn in by some allure it held over me. My heart started beating faster and my breath came fast. I didn’t know why, but I wanted that necklace. I needed it. If I couldn’t possess it, I would surely die. My hand started to reach out toward it.

My mother gently put my hand back down at my side and fastened the necklace around my neck. My breathing eased. My hand flew up to the pendant.

Finally, I had to break the tense silence.

“Mother, what’s going on?”

My mother’s eyes slowly met mine. “Jennica, forgive me.”

My blood ran cold. I rushed to her, grabbing her by the shoulders. “What do you mean? Forgive you for what? Are you about to do something desperate?”

Tears sparkled in her eyes, threatening to fall. She touched my cheek. “My darling, beautiful girl. There’s something I should have done a long time ago.”

“Mother, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“Sit.” My mother indicated the love seat by the fire. I sank down in the plush velvet. Mother sat next to me. She took one of my hands in hers, stroking it gently. She flipped it over, studying my palm. Whatever she was looking for didn’t seem to be there, as she sighed heavily and flipped my hand back.

“Mother, what’s going on?” I repeated.

There was a light, quick tap at the door, and then Taryn slipped back into the room. She had donned a traveling cloak in her absence. She was holding a plain dress, a long, dark cloak, and a pair of boots in her arms. Over her shoulder was a worn leather knapsack.

“I checked out the window in Princess Jennica’s room. They’re on their way, Your Majesty,” she said to my mother.

Mother moved faster than I had ever seen her move before. She turned to the wall next to the fireplace, patting the stone about eye level. Suddenly, a door noiselessly opened next to the hearth. A dark tunnel yawned wide.

A secret passage? Nineteen years I had lived in this castle, and I never knew it had secret passageways!

“You’ll have to go, now, before they get here,” Mother said.

“Go? Where? Before who gets here?” My head snapped between Mother and Taryn, who stood by the entrance to the secret passage.

“Shh!” My mother gave me a fierce, quick hug. “No time for that! Taryn will lead you out of the palace.”

“But—”

Mother scooped up the candle and the papers on her desk. Shoving them into my hands, she pushed me into the passage. “This letter is for you—I’ve explained everything. Keep it private. If you see any Calian soldiers on your way, avoid them. King Hendon is not to be trusted, Jennica. He’s not even your father.”

“What?!” Mother couldn’t just throw something like that at me and expect me not to have any questions. “What do you mean, he’s not my father?”

“It’s in the letter, Jennica. Now go!”

“But where am I going?” I was stubbornly holding on to the stone framing the passage’s entrance, wanting some sort of answer. Taryn had her arms around my waist, practically pulling me into the passage.

“To Orchwell, the kingdom a few days south of here,” Mother said. “Find Kye of Orchwell, the famed dragon Seeker. Have him bring you to Joichan, the dragon who held me captive.”

Taryn succeeded in pulling me away from the door. Mother blew me a kiss as the door to the secret passage closed. The last thing I saw were her lovely gray eyes, sad and hopeful at the same time.

And the last thing I heard, before the darkness swallowed Taryn and me, was the sound of the door to my mother’s chamber opening.

***

I stayed frozen in place. For one thing, I couldn’t see in the total darkness. For another, I was worried about my mother. Should I go back?

I felt for the door behind me, expecting to find a hidden latch or switch to open the door back into my mother’s room. Instead, I felt Taryn’s hand on my arm and heard her voice in my ear.

“Your Highness, we must continue. Come.”

Without waiting for me to agree, her hand slid down to mine and she guided me deeper into the passageway. It unnerved me, to walk without seeing where I was going, but Taryn’s cool hand led me forward.

I estimated we had walked for perhaps a quarter of an hour when Taryn stopped. I nearly plowed into her. Quietly, she asked, “Do you still have the candle your mother gave you?”

“How did you know she gave me a candle?” I asked, just as quietly. “You were ahead of me.”

She laughed softly. “Princess, we’ve been planning this for some time. The queen has her own set of spies in the palace, and she learned that the king was going to move forward with this marriage alliance. She came up with her own plan to protect you. I’m aware of every part of it. Including the part where your mother gave you a candle, since I would have my hands full.”

Even though Taryn couldn’t see me in the dark, I shook my head, annoyed at my obtuseness. Of course Taryn was aware of everything. Her efficiency and lack of surprise were obvious giveaways. And even if they weren’t, her intensity when she questioned me about my feelings toward Prince Anders should have tipped me off. While Taryn and I were close, more than most royalty would normally be with their servants, there were certain boundaries Taryn never crossed with me. Including personal probing questions.

I was about to give Taryn the candle when I realized I wasn’t holding it any longer. My right hand was still clasped around Taryn’s. My left hand was clenched around Mother’s letter only. No candle.

“Taryn, I’m sorry,” I whispered back. “I don’t have it anymore. I must have dropped it.”

Taryn’s voice held a tinge of dismay. “We need light, Princess. I’ve been guiding us so far by following the wall with my free hand, but I know the passageway forks up ahead and I need to be able to see which is the correct one to take. One of the corridors will take us outside, but the other doubles back into the castle and into the Great Hall.”

“We could turn around and look for it,” I suggested.

“No,” Taryn said. “We can’t waste any more time. There’s a very narrow window in which I can sneak you out before the guards change. We’ll just have to keep going and hope I pick the right passage.”

She started to move forward, but I stayed put. I felt a tug on my arm from Taryn. “Princess, please. We need to keep going.”

“Wait,” I said. Letting go of Taryn’s grasp, I held my hand in front of me, palm up. “Illumine.”

A small, cold light appeared above my outstretched palm. I looked up at Taryn—whose face I could now see—and smiled. The ball of light didn’t illuminate much, but the passageway was quite narrow. With my magical light, we would be able to see a few feet around us in any direction.

“You’ve come further in your studies than I thought,” she said, with an appreciative, answering grin.

“Conjuring lights is basic spell casting,” I said modestly, although I was pleased at the compliment.

“Still, considering you’ve only been studying magic for a year, I’m impressed,” she said. Shifting the dress and shoes she carried, she adjusted the pack on her back. She held out her hand for my mother’s letter. I wordlessly handed it over. She stuffed the papers in the pack and then turned to face the passageway again. “Come.”

Feeling a little guilty, I asked, “Do … do you want me to carry anything?” The thought would never have occurred to me before tonight, but the situation we were in was anything but typical.

Taryn shook her head as she started walking. I hurried after her. “You’ll be carrying this pack soon enough, Princess,” she said wryly. “And for longer than you like.”

After that we didn’t talk much. My world narrowed down to focusing on Taryn’s back and making sure I put one foot in front of the other, endlessly. I didn’t want to think about what I was leaving behind, or what might be happening to Mother. I hoped she was safe.