The Princess's Servant

84. Viper in the Grass

Though it initially seemed difficult, it turned out that following Holden through the market had been the easy part. The city center was noisy and populated and distracting, and Sybil had to find Holden over and over, his far-off brown head blending easily with the others. But as the prince and his shadow exited the crowded alleys of downtown Ward, traversed the wide concrete streets of the suburbs and crossed the dirt pathways of the farmlands, their fellow pedestrians grew sparser and sparser. And soon it came to be obvious that the same people who had obscured her view of Holden had also given her cover; drowned out her footsteps. And now, as they reached the trailhead, there was no one else around but them.

This was a problem. Holden couldn't see her, not even for a second. Because if he did, if he noticed her — even in his peripheries — it would raise suspicion. So Sybil had to remain completely unheard; completely invisible.

Sybil pursued him, footstep after silent footstep. She chased him around the bends of trails, relying on the thick forest to conceal her. As long as he didn't notice her, she wouldn't be caught. As long as he didn't hear her, she—

Crack! The princess lifted up her foot to reveal a broken twig beneath her boot. Holden froze, and for a moment, so did she. Shit. She launched herself behind a tall dense bush and prayed to the heavens he wouldn't investigate any further. Her heart pounding in her neck, the princess peered through the leaves to watch his next move. The prince looked right, and then left and then finally behind him. Sybil squeezed her eyes shut and she braced for the worst. But Holden didn't head in her direction. He merely stepped to his left and parted a curtain of moss, disappearing through it. Sybil relaxed her shoulders. A secret passage? She cautiously followed him through.

As it turned out, the journey so far had been the easy part. Emerging from the moss, Sybil was met  face-to-face with the most challenging trail she had ever seen in her life. It had an incline she hadn't known was possible. Thick poking bramble on either side. A pathway that was more of an indent in the plants than a proper, actual path. This wasn't a trail at all. A trial, perhaps. But despite all of this, Holden scaled it as though the sheer mountainside were a stairway, or a gently slope. And so, Sybil was going to have to do the same. She gripped her brown cloak tight around her and stepped one soft-soled boot after the next.

The two of them climbed. And climbed. And climbed. They climbed for so long that Sybil had to wonder if they were actually headed anywhere, or if he was marching them to their deaths. They climbed for so long that Sybil had to wonder if this mountain had a point. She wondered on more than one occasion if she shouldn't just turn back and go home already. Her thighs burned with the exertion and her feet ached from wrapping around sharp rocks. She was at a loss for breath and had long given up trying to pant quietly.

The only silver lining in any of this was that distance was no longer a concern: Sybil couldn't have gotten close to him if she'd wanted to. At least she'd worn clothes like those of her sister, and not the layered gowns she usually had on. Thick brown pants. A linen top. A nose and mouth covering, and of course, a hood. Forest folk clothing, and clothing that had proven to be practical for... the forest. Sybil had guessed that in following Holden, she might encounter nature. She just hadn't guessed how much.

Speak of the devil. Sybil slowed to a halt as she faced what looked to be a dirt wall. There were roots jutting out of it, and rocks, and absolutely no where else Holden could have gone. Giving a twist of her head, she ran towards the thing with whatever momentum she could muster and threw herself onto it. She swung one of her forearms on top and scrambled with her feet to boost herself up. Pulling herself with everything she had, she managed to wrangle her hips past the top of of the ledge and finally made it over.