Brightly Woven

of the afternoon air. From this height, I could see the blue line of the Serpentine Channel, but also the hundreds of feet I could fall into the gardens below.
    There was a small ledge below the window, not even a foot wide, but it looked stable enough to support me. It was enough.
    I wrapped the woman’s cloak around me, pulling the hood over my hair. The window was tight around my body. I sucked in my stomach to get through, twisting so I could hold on as my bare feet found the ledge.
    “Just go.” I took in one last deep breath. “Go, just go.”
    I pressed my body against the cold stone, keeping my eyes focused ahead and not on the distance between my feet and the ground. There was nothing for my hands to hold on to until I reached the next window ledge.
    It didn’t get any easier, and I couldn’t see any way to climb down to the windows a dozen feet below. There was one last window, and then the wall of the castle came to an end.
    The room was empty, as far as I could tell, and the window was closed. I hit it once, twice with my fist, but it wasn’t until the third and fourth time that the latch unhooked itself and the window swung open into the room.
    I didn’t waste another second after I made it through. My arms and legs were still shaking with the strain of my climb, but I pushed myself away from the window and pulled up my hood. I waited by the door, listening for the sound of footsteps, then slipped out into the hallway.
    I was surprised to find bright, lush carpet beneath my feet instead of the dank stones of Provincia’s castle. The walls of the palace weren’t stone, either—not even plaster. They had been plated with perfect uniform blocks of gold.
    I found a staircase, probably one used by the servants, and held my breath as I ran down the steps. When my bare foot touched the bottom step, I forced myself to slow. The hallway was well lit and free of rodents and filth. Two women dressed in blue silk walked past me, jolting my arm.
    “Terribly sorry, ma’am,” one of the women whispered, bowing her head. “Pardon me.”
    I nodded in return, trying not to panic. I had wanted to avoid any contact with the Austerans, not only for my safety but for theirs as well. I wasn’t sure what I was capable of anymore.
    I followed the women down what had to be the servant’s hall toward a wall of sunlight. Outside, the steps down the side of the palace were lined by lush green gardens, each tree and bush molded into a distinct shape. The women talked of little things like their families or the meal they had been asked to make. At the bottom of the steps, they turned and waved good-bye to each other.
    “Excuse me,” I called.
    The dark-haired woman walked over to me. “Is there something I may help you with?”
    “How…how can I get down to the channel?” I whispered. She didn’t look like any devil—if anything, she looked like my mother.
    “Oh,” she said, surprised. “It’s a bit of a walk. If you plan on going somewhere, you’ll have to ask about a boat in the center of town. I’m headed that way, if you’d like some company.”
    “It’s all right,” I began weakly.
    “It’s no trouble at all,” she said, folding my arm under her own. After a moment she lowered her voice and said, “Are you in some kind of peril, dear? What happened to your shoes?”
    “I prefer to go without them,” I said, my mouth dry. I reached up to pull the hood farther over my face.
    “You and my son both,” she said, and led me down the steps of the palace. “Don’t worry, my dear. Whatever the trouble is, you’ll be perfectly safe with me.”

    We entered the small village through the shaded marketplace. I kept my eyes on the knotted lengths of silk that covered the stands of flowers, vegetables, and fruit. The tiered, round roofs of the buildings were visible through small patches where no silk had been tied. Instead of the uneven stone surfaces of Palmarta’s cities, stones that were covered with years of moss and dirt, the buildings were smooth, clean, and soft to the touch. Even the stone path beneath our feet was whitewashed. If I hadn’t been in the world of my enemies, if I hadn’t passed a statue of Salvala the sword bearer, I might have thought it beautiful. Now all I felt was the creeping of unease across my skin. I reached for the necklace that wasn’t there.
    The woman, Elema, waved to several of the vendors and bent to stop an apple from rolling away from a cart. She threw it