Page 41 of To Save a Kingdom

“Hello?” Aliya called, eyeing the motionless gatehouse above them. “Anyone here?”

The silence stretched for one minute, two.

A breeze gusted through the gate, carrying the faint scent of ozone with it.

The hair on the back of Aliya’s neck rose. Something wasn’t right, and the iridescent stuff covering the top of the walls was making her magic churn in her gut. She didn’t want to linger here any longer than necessary.

“Well, this sucks,” Zadé muttered.

Aliya nodded, pulling her canteen from her belt. Tilting her head back, she took several deep swallows. Tucking the container into her saddle bags, she dismounted and handed her reins to Zadé. “Here. Hold my horse. And bring my clothes when I get the gate up.”

Closing her eyes, Aliya pictured the same furry kitten she’d become to escape Malkov on her wedding day. Her skin tingled as fur bloomed and suddenly her trousers and tunic were billowing to the ground around her.

“Holy houses, Princess!” Zadé’s exclamation had Aliya’s whiskers twitching in a smile. “I’ve never seen yeh do that in person a’fore!”

Aliya bit back the urge to apologize. They were here for the prisoners, and this was the most efficient way to get past the locked gate.

Weaving side to side as she acclimated to four legs rather than two, Aliya toddled forward. Squeezing between two bars, she skittered into the shadows, pressing herself low as her kitten eyes scanned the vast expanse in front of her.

Nothing moved except a clump of sagebrush blowing by as the wind tickled her whiskers.

The faint stench of feces and decay hid beneath the ozone, much stronger now that she wasn’t in her human shape.

Twitching her nose to clear the unpleasant smell, she poked her head around the corner. The door to the gatehouse loomed overhead.

The inner building of the prison consisted of square blocks of stone with mortar in between. The surfaces had been polished to a high sheen, likely to make it harder for inmates to scale. Though, with the weird iridescent substance coating the top, she doubted many had tried.

Glancing through the courtyard one more time for any sign of life, Aliya studied the gatehouse. She’d need to be human-sized, with opposable thumbs, to get the door open. With her clothing still outside, she’d have to make sure she was alone. Otherwise, it could cause more of a stir than she was ready for.

Nothing moved. It was like the entire prison had been evacuated. Goosebumps raised on her arms as her stomach twisted. “Let’s get this done” she mumbled.

The door latch came into reach as Aliya released the kitten and regained her normal form. The world righted itself—walking was so much easier when she only had two legs to coordinate. Grabbing the doorknob, she spun it and tugged the door open. Slipping inside, she pulled it closed, pressing herself against the wall. The rough-hewn stones dug into her exposed skin.

The ladder to the upper battlements stood in front of her, like a sentinel escorting her to some sort of trial. Or execution.

Swallowing hard enough to pop her ears, Aliya placed one bare foot on the wooden rungs and ascended.

The loft above the portcullis sported two narrow archery-style windows. Several quivers of arrows rested in the corner, and a complicated system of pulleys, ropes and levers for raising and lowering the gate graced the opposite side.

It would, of course, make things too easy to label each lever with something like “Pull to Raise.”

Grabbing the first bar, she tugged. It was stuck, refusing to move, even when she dropped, pulling with her entire body weight.

Okay, then. Wrong one.

Moving on to the second, she wrenched it down.

Gears to her right spun, sliding the thick rope between them.

Zadé’s voice drifted up from outside. “Great job, Princess!”

Once the mechanism quieted, Aliya grabbed a metal dowel leaning against the contraption and wedged it into a loop adjacent to the lever, locking it in place.

The door to the gate house opened.

“Princess?”

“Zadé!” Aliya resisted the urge to cover her breasts with her arms. She was still overhead, out of sight. “Can you toss my clothes up here?”