The Grey Tower

Sabine

What under the Light had just happened?

It took all Casey’s effort to keep her face blank. She had never even heard of such a pledge, let alone been on the receiving end. Back at home, a promise was easily spoken, easily broken. If you trusted another person’s word, you deserved the dagger in the back that was surely coming. But Casey only knew stifling Tear. Perhaps this was how people did business up in the north, where the ice spiders were as big as hounds. Was she supposed to return the pledge? Or was that only for fancy types? Why had Rylan never prepared her for this?

Well, it wasn’t like she could possibly scandalise Sabine any more, so Casey gave it her best shot. “I, Casey Frey, do pledge on this day to help you escape with me. Even if I have to stab someone to make it happen. And if you make it out of Hama Valon alive, I pledge you can have your dagger back. Intact, even. I won’t even pry out the jewels or anything.” As far as Casey was concerned, that was a major concession to Sabine’s delicate sensibilities.

She got to her feet and stepped back. Her cheek stung, her forehead throbbed, and her cut lip still tasted of salt. That was what she got for not expecting Princess Fancypants to pull a dagger on her. And Sabine looked even worse for wear.

This was not going to go down well with the Mistress of Novices.

Casey stowed the dagger through her belt for now and held out her hand. After a long moment, Sabine took it. Casey pulled her to her feet, imagining every twinge of aching muscles must be the same for both of them.

“All right. Time to work.” Casey stretched up and lifted the mirror down from the wall. It flipped around to reveal a smooth back, perfect for writing on, easy to hide by returning the mirror to its place. “I need pen and ink.” Sabine lent hers, and Casey dipped the pen into the ink before beginning to draw on the back of the mirror—sketching out a quick diagram of the parts of the Tower she had observed so far. “When you break in, it’s called infiltration. Breaking out is exfiltration. This is a three-stage operation: getting out of the Tower, getting out of Hama Valon, and getting out of the Mountains of Mist. None of which will be simple.”

She tapped her pen on the inked Great Serpent structure that lay just to the south of the Tower itself. “The simplest way out of any location”—she drew a straight line to the main gate—“is through a door. Elaborate schemes to parachute from walltops don’t usually work so well in real life. Since we’re unlikely to be able to fight our way past the gate guards, that requires some level of subterfuge. You know more of the Tower than I do, so I’ll leave this stage to you, but I’d guess it would be easiest to persuade a higher rank to bring us into Hama Valon, then give them the slip—stage a distraction, if necessary. And boom, we’re free and clear in Hama Valon.”

Casey rubbed her aching forehead absently with her sleeve, trying to hold off a headache. Relying on Sabine to mastermind their exit from the Tower was a serious gamble given that Sabine had almost turned Casey’s innards into outards just now. But Casey didn’t see any way she could possibly match Sabine’s four and a half years of practice with the inner workings of the Tower.

“At that point, we’ll need to access a cache of civilian clothes and supplies. We won’t get far dressed in these novice whites. And passing the gates out of Hama Valon will require a good disguise and a cover story, at the very least. We can slip the guards some coin to make them look the other way, but they’ll remember that and I’d rather not stand out. I have contacts in Hama Valon”—the oldest being fourteen years old—“so I’ll handle the second stage of our exfiltration.” After all, lying was Casey’s real talent.

“Then once we’re out in the countryside…” Casey blew out a long breath. “Well, there’s no point making haste, because the Aes Sedai can catch up any time with their silver door thing. So I’d suggest travelling slow and secret. It may be best to split up as soon as we get clear of Hama Valon—they’ll be looking for two girls travelling together. Be prepared to cut your hair, maybe dye it, and learn a new accent.” And drop the princessing. Because a highborn girl wandering around without a personal guard just begged to be kidnapped for ransom.

Casey dropped the pen into its ink pot and sat back, dusting off her hands. “That’s my initial plan, anyway. I’m open to suggestions.”

It belatedly occurred to her that Sabine might be asking herself who her new roommate Casey really was. Which would be a smart question, because there was a whole lot Casey hadn’t told her. Like the fact that a third novice would be joining them on their escape.

And Casey would betray any friend, break any pledge, if it would help get Lia out of here.