I'm writing a novel!~ <Untitled> Criticism welcome!

[Sciencin']

So here I am, writing a book. Constructive criticism is welcome, but I've already got the plot and characters. : ) I'll think of a title eventually. I will be posting more chapters, but if I am going to get it published- which I am hoping for- then I'm not going to give too many spoilers ; ) I warn you that it is rather long.
Enjoy, and again, comments are welcome!
The main character is Akyra Andraste Faladon, a 14-year-old orphaned blonde girl with a black horse named Tighearnan. I can't give away much more than that without spoiling it :3



Chapter One
Memories
I sighed and looked up at the dark, wet stone ceiling with expressionless eyes.
So. This is it, I thought numbly. I looked at my hand. The veins that crisscrossed it were slowly turning a sickening shade of deep green as the poison spread through my body and I wondered detachedly how long it would take to reach my heart. I flexed my fingers and my hands, which were cold as ice, tingled slightly. My breaths grew shorter and a sharp pain in my chest sent a shock through my body, leaving me gasping and forcing me to move into a lying position. I thought that was it. I was finished. But I forced my eyes to stay open and my lungs to work for another moment when the sound of hooves on stone reached my ears. A black and gold shape filled my blurring vision.
“Tighearnan,” I whispered. Though it was nothing more than a tiny breath of air that left my lips, I broke into a choking cough and the horse let out a heartbroken whinny and pressed his head closer to me. I wrapped my hands around his head and felt a single tear roll down my face as I felt my legs and arms grow numb. Tighearnan lay down next to me and laid his head onto my stomach, staring at me with mourning eyes, and my eyelids closed, the darkness enveloping me. I felt a slight breeze and a feather brushed against my cheek as Tighearnan stirred next to me, covering me with one of his raven-black wings. My lips bent into a slight smile. He was there for me until the end.
I heard a faint crackling noise and forced my eyes open one last time. My body, starting with my feet, was turning to lifeless stone. I shifted my gaze to Tighearnan, and in the dim light made out his fur hardening and its black color fading to a dull gray.
“Until next time,” I found myself whispering with my last breath. Tighearnan let out one last anguished sound as I felt the cold creep into my mind.

I woke with a start and let out a cry of pain as my head hit the ceiling of my tiny sleeping chamber. I frantically groped around in the dark until I grabbed my candle and matches, and, striking one, was able to reassure myself that I was safely in my own sorry excuse for a bed. With a sigh of relief I wiped the sweat from my brow and made my way through the tight space to a crack in between two of the boards that made up my makeshift home. The hole served as a window, and though I had often considered patching it up, I liked the breeze it gave me in the summer when it got very hot and damp. In the winter, I covered it with whatever I had on hand, but now the hole was open and I stuck my head out and breathed in the fresh autumn night air as I tried to slow my breathing down. After a minute or so, I pulled my head back in and pushed aside the flap of burlap that covered the door. I had to bend down to go through it, as I had built it when I was smaller, but I didn’t have the time, patience, or resources to fix the tedious structure. For all I knew, if I took out a single board, the whole building would probably fall apart.
I looked around, taking in the dry weeds, overgrown yellow-tinted grass, the random planks of rotting wood and junk sticking out of the ground and the few small trees that made up my front yard, before I caught sight of my horse, Tighearnan, already trotting towards me from his place at the back of the shack.

The image of the horse from my dream floated into my mind. The Tighearnan in the dream had been different- though his body was sleek and black, and the white star on his forehead was the same along with the white speckling on his hindquarters, he had a golden mane- Tighearnan’s was a sooty black. And then there was the small matter of the wings. Tighearnan was a horse. Horses weren’t birds, and horses didn’t have wings.
With a sigh, I ran my hand down his neck and he nuzzled my face, nibbling on a piece of my hair. I grinned and pushed his nose away, at the same time doing my best to forget about the dream.
“Who’s hungry?” I asked with a grin. Tighearnan snorted and pawed at the ground impatiently. I didn’t find it strange that he seemed to understand what I said- I’d gotten used to it over the years, but I couldn’t explain it- neither could I explain how different he was from the other horses that existed in the Lanadrake. They were stocky creatures with thick legs, built for pulling wagons and heavy loads, with a generic, rarely varied scruffy brown coat. Tighearnan was almost a different species; thin, lithe, built for speed, with a smooth, shiny black pelt and a white star between his eyes, along with the odd white speckling on his rump. He was also taller than the other horses, though he probably didn’t weigh as much. I had often pondered where he had come from, but my thinking was usually interrupted by some more pressing matter- like, now, breakfast.

I grabbed his mane and, though it still took me several tries, managed to get my leg over his back and hoist myself up onto his high back. I shifted my weight into a more comfortable position on the simple saddle blanket as Tighearnan started towards our destination. The way to the store was a relatively easy one this early in the morning, since I didn’t have to worry about finding a deserted path- everyone was still in bed. Mist rose in the streets, adding to the eerie silence penetrated only by Tighearnan’s hoofs clip-clopping on the paving stones and surrounding us in a cold haze that helped to hide us from prying eyes. The tall stone and wood houses loomed up through the mist, like stone phantoms standing vigil in the mist. I wasn’t exactly doing anything wrong, but here in the Lanadrake, an orphan girl astride a horse-like creature would be instantly labeled as a target. Here, it wouldn’t do to attract attention to myself. I didn’t worry much about it, knowing that Tighearnan would protect me, but I still crouched low, keeping myself pressed against his warm body to make up for the cold air around me.

We finally arrived at the store as the first rays of dawn penetrated through the haze, casting a warm golden glow onto the rooftops of the homes. I jumped down from Tighearnan’s back- I was too short to reach the ground- and a small cloud of dust rose from the dry packed dirt of the ground outside the store.
The building itself wasn’t much to look at; like most of the other buildings, it was made of stone and wood, plastered on the outside with white clay, with a straw thatched roof and several small windows which were little more than shuttered square holes in the building. A sign with an image of a loaf of bread crudely painted on it hung over the wooden door; the word ‘Store’ was carved into the sign below the image, but most people in the Lanadrake couldn't read, so it was only secondary to the image.
I walked around to the back of the store, where a drainpipe led to the roof. I took a deep breath and rolled up my sleeves, rubbed my hands together, and grabbed onto the pipe, using the gaps in the stone of the wall as footholds as I made my way up the rickety metal pipe. I finally reached up and grabbed onto the edge of the roof, pulling myself up with a grunt. I felt around in the straw until I found what I needed; a metal ring that marked the trapdoor. I pulled it open, wincing at the rusty squeaking noise.

The first thing I noticed when I looked in through the roof was that there were less people in the store than usual. Only a few figures moved about, sifting through the shelves, hunting for whatever it was they needed. I would be one of them- though, as usual, I wouldn’t be buying.
I slipped my hood over my head, lowered myself though the opening, and dropped to the floor, landing in a crouch. No one noticed me as I made my way to the bread, then potatoes, carrots, and eggs. I had a single close call when I bumped into an elderly lady who was sorting through the turnips, but she simply turned around, puzzled, and went back to her turnips. Finally, I tied the burlap sack of loot closed, swung it over my shoulder, and, quiet as ever, stalked toward the door. I waited until a tall man with frightfully long whiskers opened it to come in, then just made it through as it was closing. Only now did I run, not stopping until I had reached the back of the store where my horse was tied, waiting in anticipation for our meal.

Breathlessly, I looked around in all directions. The sun had risen, and the mist had dissipated. It made the city look more alive, brightening up the dead gray of the stone. Finally confident that no one had somehow followed me, I took the hood off, and my body shimmered into existence.
I walked up to Tighearnan and stroked his black mane. Over the years he’d gotten used to my appearing and disappearing, and now he didn’t even flinch when I put the cloak on and I was suddenly invisible, and then reappeared next to him a few minutes later. I pulled a carrot from my bag and held it out for him. “Another successful mission. We won’t go hungry this week, will we, Tiger?”
Tighearnan snorted at my use of the pet name I had for him as he took the carrot from my hand and started chewing. I pulled out another carrot and crunched off the end without peeling it. At that exact moment, I heard a man’s voice behind me along with heavy footsteps crunching on the gravel.
“Get back here, you thieving whelp!”

Time to bail. Tighearnan immediately lifted his head up alertly, his ears pulled back in fear. I barely had enough time to mourn the loss of the carrot I’d dropped before I leapt onto his back and he bolted with me holding onto his mane with my feet digging into his sides. I’d learned to ride bareback a long time ago, though mounting was still a bit tedious, I could ride him at full speed and hold on when he jumped, which was at least something. Even then, it was hard to hold on to him and the food at the same time, and I didn’t have time to get the invisibility hood. Even if I did, it wouldn’t cover both of us; they would still be able to see Tighearnan, and I couldn’t risk his getting hurt.
I finally managed to get the bag into the left pocket on the patched saddle blanket and wrapped both my arms around his neck, pressing my body close to his. I loved this feeling; I could feel his muscles working, his breath, his heartbeat, the wind in my face; I could also hear the shouts of the angry shopkeeper behind us. Despite this, Tighearnan seemed calmer now, more focused. I looked backwards with a grin at the man who was chasing us and almost laughed at the sight of a rather porky man with a red mustache and an even redder face loping along behind us. He didn’t stand a chance. His voice faded into the background as we gained ground.
“Wonderful timing,” I muttered sarcastically.
Finally we turned a corner and came to a bridge over a river. Tighearnan leapt into the cold water, throwing me off. Thankfully, this part of the river was more or less free of boulders, or I probably would’ve clonked my head pretty badly. We both swam toward the bridge, where the water was shallower, and I made my way towards a large flat rock near the bank, where I had to sit down to avoid hitting my head on the bridge above. Tighearnan was soon at my side, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, breathing heavily.

“That was wonderful,” I mumbled sarcastically after I caught my breath. He nuzzled my hair and pawed the ground, which I took to mean, ‘Let’s not do that again, okay?’
“Agreed,” I said with a wry smile as I took another carrot from my bag, broke it in half. A half went to Tighearnan, to make up for the one he hadn’t gotten to finish; the other I kept for myself, savoring every bite of the crunchy vegetable. These were a special treat; we usually only got food that didn’t spoil. Bread, carrots, and eggs we didn’t get very often because they wouldn’t last long and had to be eaten within a few days or they spoiled.
When we were both finished, I mounted up. I could tell Tighearnan wasn’t happy about it, but I reassured him he would get plenty of rest when we got back, so he reluctantly trudged across the bridge and the short distance to our home.
For a home, it wasn’t much; a bunch of wood planks, blankets, and burlap held together with twine and nails, but Tiger and I were glad to have it. Many of The Lanadrake’s orphans had to live on the street.

I dismounted and grabbed the bag of stolen goods from Tighearnan’s saddlebag pocket. The shelter had seemed to have shrunk since I had built the it, and I now had to crouch to enter the single small room. I emptied the bag into an old wooden chest that some stupid rich people had thrown out. As I sorted the food into piles- the food that we needed to eat as soon as possible so it didn’t spoil, and the food that could last a long time- I found my thoughts drifting back to... that day.

I’d been scouring for money or food on the outskirts of town and had wandered too close to the Hills. It was one of the most mysterious places in The Lanadrake, other than the Palace, of course. People use it to get rid of things they didn’t want or need anymore, and the orphans had always wondered why someone could throw many of these things away- we would never dream of owning a plush couch or a wooden bed or a lamp. Many had tried to enter; but the guards always caught them. Those were never heard of since. If anyone ever got in and out safely, they had wisely kept it to themselves. Why it was so closely guarded, no one knew.
I’d been overcome by curiosity. The place was surrounded by a wrought iron fence that had faces of agony and scenes of wars and death; but it also had scenes of something that would be revealed to me very soon- Magic. I had once foolishly mentioned it to the guards, this idea of Magic, and they had been angry with me and sent me back to my home. I’d been taught that Magic was an evil thing; but the pictures in the fence fascinated me. They seemed to speak to me in their own language, beaconing to me with the promise of many possibilities, of change, of a better life. Of… power. The ability to make a difference- a thought that was almost incomprehensible for an orphan, the lowest life form The Lanadrake had to offer. I saw images of warriors in armor blasting enemies from the sky, beautiful but fierce creatures like lizards with wings spouting fire, humanoids in cloaks riding three-headed beasts, and winged horses. All seemed to draw me closer, inviting me to explore. And one day, I had finally obliged.
The mist was thick, and I was able to slip past the guards and over the fence. And before me, spreading as far as my eyes could see, were the Hills. The mist lay thick, and I couldn’t see very far, so I watched the ground beneath me, counting my footsteps in the gloom. And under my feet were things that I could never imagine owning- gold embroidered velvet curtains, torn and dirtied, a soft cushion covered in cobwebs and muck, a marble lamp with a coating of dust.
I flinched as my foot hit something that gleamed in the dim light. Bending down to pick it up, I caught my breath. The thing was a statuette. It was smeared with dirt and mud, but as I wiped it away it was obvious from its color and weight that it was made of solid gold. As I studied it further, I realized it was one of the winged lizards, like those on the fence. It was amazing that it hadn’t rusted, and there wasn’t a single dent in it. Even smeared with grime, it was beautiful.
Looking around quickly, like I was afraid someone was watching, I slipped it into my bag and turned in a slow circle. A shiver ran down my spine as the mist seemed to get thicker, and now I knew I was lost. And I couldn’t escape until the mist cleared, and the guards would find me, and they- what? What would happen to me?

I heard a low, petrifying growl somewhere in the darkness and I realized that my situation had just gotten a whole lot worse. My memories of the minutes that followed were hazy, like in a dream. Cold, dead eyes staring at me hungrily. I might’ve screamed, but I remember running, and the beasts chasing me, their foul stench like blood mixed with sour milk and rotten flesh. I don’t remember how long I ran. The thing I do remember is that I fell. My foot had gotten caught on something. I reached down to untangle my foot and was about to throw it off to the side, but something kept me from doing it. Without second thought and without getting a good look at it, I shoved it in the bag and ran as fast as my legs could carry me, when- out of the blue- there was a wall.
Okay, I now realized it wasn’t a wall, but the fence, but at the time I had been too frightened to care. I reached up and my fingers brushed against a piece of metal. I grabbed onto it and tried to pull myself up, but a light rain had started falling and my hands were clammy with sweat. My hands slipped off the smooth metal, and I fell to the ground with a yelp of pain. I was done.
I collapsed on the ground, exhausted. This run had taken more than I had out of me and I didn’t have the strength or will to go on any further.

This was the point where things got a bit fuzzy. I recall a vague impression of lifting off the ground, the wind on my face. A large gray form, like a cloud? “Are you a bird?” I remember asking in my dazed state. The creature looked down at me, and I made out a pair of glowing green eyes.
Stifling a scream, I sat bolt upright and found myself on the other side of the fence. Through the mist I could make out a blurry silhouette. The thing looked like a Horse, except it… wasn’t. First, he was smaller and less stocky build than the horses of The Lanadrake. I suppose the right words would be that it was built for speed, with muscled but thin legs and lithe build. Secondly, it was an odd color; rather than the usual brown or tan, this one was midnight black, with white markings on its hindquarters. Its forehead had a white streak on it. I couldn’t make out much more through the mist.

As I ran my hand across its neck, it lifted its head, and for the first time I noticed the rope that bound it to the fence. I heard voices behind me, but for some reason I just couldn’t leave him there. Making a split-second decision, I pulled out the small knife from the pocket I had sown onto my boot and cut the rope. And then the details got blurred again. I remember something about climbing onto the colt’s back, and then the only thing from that moment I could recall was the feeling of the cool wind on my face.

I must’ve fallen asleep, because suddenly a shot of pain ran through my head and I opened my eyes to find daylight flooding my brain. I’d nodded off and hit my head on the chest. Idiot, I thought to myself. I looked out of my shack to find that the sun was sinking toward the horizon. I had been asleep that long?! My first instinct was to check outside my door. Tighearnan was to my far right standing behind a pile of extra wood planks. I didn’t know why he would be hiding.
Then I turned my gaze to the left. I gasped when I saw them: three Rouge Guards- the men who paraded through town taking away people who disobeyed laws, and carrying out orders from the Queen. And they were coming towards me.

“You there! Are you Faladon?” the middle guard yelled at me. I nodded, too shocked and confused to speak. Why would the Queen send her guards here? And how did they know my name?
“You’ll be coming with us.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but again all I found myself doing was shaking my head and slowly backing away. He ran at me, and I dodged and stuck out my foot, sending him face-first into the dirt. He gave me a murderous look, the blood pouring from his nose matching his uniform perfectly.
The second guard walked towards me and made a grab, but I dodged and punched him in the nose as hard as I could. As I jumped backwards, I hit something big. I whirled around and found myself face-to-face with the third man. “Alright then,” he said casually. He swung a fist towards my face, and everything went black.

[Sciencin']

Chapter Two
The Orphans

The first thing I was aware of was the throbbing pain in my head. For a few moments, it was like that; the darkness and the pain. I felt strangely calm, as if though I was no longer capable of connecting the pain to my own body, like the pain was some external force I could completely ignore.
Then came the cold.
I felt it first in my feet and hands. It seemed subtle at first, but it started to spread up my arms and legs, like it was flowing through my veins- like my blood was freezing, along with my mind. I felt like maybe I should be panicking as the pain intensified from a dull coldness to a frigidness that made it feel like a thousand knives of ice were traveling through my blood.
And then, a pair of golden hooves broke the ice that was trapping me in that frigid ocean of pain, and a fiery warmth spread through my body, slowly making its way to my fingertips.
The last thing I saw in the murky darkness was the black face of a horse with a white mark on its head and a mane of fire.
“Tig… Tighearnan?...” I whispered.
And then my eyes opened and I was squinting against the bright light.
“She’s awake!” a young girl’s voice called from somewhere near me. I sat up groggily, and did my best to look around as my eyes adjusted to the light in the-
What?
Where was I?
I made out the form of the girl by my bed. She looked to be about seven or eight years old, and had very pale skin and dark, almost black hair that fell to about halfway to her waist in waves of curls. Her ice-blue eyes, like her skin, were strangely pale.
“Where am I?” I asked groggily, trying not to let the panic in my voice show. I shifted myself into a sitting position, wincing as a wave of dizziness rolled over me. I cursed under my breath and pressed a hand to my forehead- it was still throbbing where that arsehole guard had punched me.
“The Palace,” the girl answered, and I looked up- for a moment I had forgotten about the fact that I was in a strange place surrounded by strange people. A small smile appeared on her lips, like she found the thought amusing.
I nodded, for a moment not comprehending exactly what this new development meant for me. When it finally sank in, I thought I would pass out again right then and there. This was too much. The Queen’s Palace? What was I doing here?!
She must’ve read my expression, and her next words surprised me even more.
“The Queen has ordered for all the Lanadrake’s orphaned children be taken here.”
“Why the hell would she do that?” I snapped. I probably shouldn’t have talked that way to her- it wasn’t her fault- but I wanted answers, and I wanted them now. The girl gave an innocent shrug. “Maybe she wants to help us."
“Pig’s arse,” I mumbled as I got out of bed. Then I turned around. “I’m sorry for being rude; I just don’t see… the Queen has been sitting in the Palace for years and years with her frilly dresses and fancy dinners, and now all of a sudden, BOOM! ‘I just noticed that there’s hungry orphans in the Lanadrake! Maybe I should take them in and feed them with my money!’ It just doesn’t seem… realistic.”
A silence spread through the small crowd that had now gathered around my bed. I guessed there were about twenty of them, most younger than me.
“That’s what we’ve been discussing,” a new voice said.
A guy who looked to be about fifteen stepped out of the crowd- he couldn’t have been more than a year older than me, but he appeared to be one of the oldest kids there. The dark thought hit me that he was probably lucky to have made it that long.
The way the other kids treated him, it was obvious he was some kind of leader. He had dark, curly hair and dark, sullen eyes that suggested a tough, strict leader. He looked like the kind of person you really wouldn’t want to get in a fight with- not only was he strong and big, but I didn’t doubt that he was a good fighter, too. His black eye and the scar on his chin didn’t help much. In other words, I didn’t like him. If he expected me to be all respectful and obedient, I’d make sure he had his hands full.
“The name’s Dregar,” he said. I noted with contempt the arrogant tilt of his head and bored look in his eyes- he thought he was better than me. I’d show the jerk just who he was dealing with.
“Akyra,” I said, holding his gaze, my face just as arrogant. “My name is Akyra Faladon.” Something about introducing myself with my full name made me feel suddenly more sophisticated- most of the kids didn’t know anything about their families, let alone their last names. To tell the truth, I didn’t know much about mine, either- but that was irrelevant.
He looked at me for a moment and I thought I saw not only confusion but also fear on his face. I raised a cynical eyebrow, which added to my condescending appearance. But his expression just as quickly returned to that grim mask of stone. I glanced at him questioningly.
“For a moment I thought…” he squinted at me, then shook his head. “Naw. Can’t be. As I was saying, we’ve also considered this. The only reason we can think of for the Queen to take us here is that she wants something from us. We don’t know for sure what, but you can be certain she didn’t do it out of the goodness of her heart.”
I nodded distractedly as I finally got a good look around at the place I was in. I had been lying in a metal cot, one of the many lined up against the wall in the stone room. There were a few small windows near the ceiling, too high up to reach, and a heavy wooden double-door on the stone wall on the far side of the room. My cot was farthest from the door, in a shadowy corner.
“It is true?”
“Huh?” I turned around to face the little girl who had spoken to me earlier.
“Did you fight the guards? Did you? Did you?” By now she was jumping up and down, the excitement dancing in her eyes.
I touched the bruise that was forming on my forehead and winced. “Yeah,” I said, blinking. “Pretty stupid of me, wasn’t it?”
Another girl who looked to be about eleven years old jumped in front of me with a look of reverent awe on her face. She was short, with short dark brown hair, brown eyes, and glasses.
“Are you kidding me? Stupid of you?! That was the bravest thing I’ve ever heard of! I mean. Nobody stands up to the Rouge Guards!”
She was treating me like some child sent from heaven, and I didn’t want her to think that I could fight off the Guards singlehandedly. “And look where that got me. Trust me, don’t make my mistake.”
The girl shook her head and almost walked away before turning around and saying, “By the way, my name’s Nareen. This is Faelynne,” she said, gesturing to the little girl.
“Akyra,” I replied. Nareen smiled at me before she walked back towards the group of older kids that was now assembling in the corner across from my bed, far from the door. I had a feeling a meeting of some sorts had begun.
Naturally, I followed.
When I got there, it seemed that there was an argument going on. A tall, gangly kid with slightly tanned skin and dark blonde hair was arguing with Dregar. The guy looked pretty angry, and was waving his arms in the air. Dregar stood there, looking calm, but I could see the anger in his eyes and hear frustration in his voice. Finally, Dregar said something that made the other guy clench his fists and storm off. I made a mental note to talk to him later; for now, I saw Dregar as an enemy, even if that was just the stubborn rebellious instinct in me to defy authority kicking in.
I walked up the small group of kids and gave Nareen, who was next to me, a skeptical ‘what was that about?’ look. She leaned towards me and whispered: “His name is Alastrine. He’s the second oldest kid here, and he and Dregar are having a… power struggle. Al wants to be the big boss, but Dregar won’t let him.”
Alastrine shot her a look from his cot, which was about three cots down from mine, and she giggled. “Just never call him Al. Right, Al?” she called across to him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, then turned around and started fiddling with something I couldn’t see.
Dregar turned his attention to something I hadn’t noticed before- a small wooden table that had a hand-drawn map of what looked like the Palace pinned to it. Another thing I hadn’t noticed earlier was the source of light- a small orb of yellow fire floated in midair next to the map, but it didn’t seem to give off any heat. These were stationed at regular intervals through the room.
“The kitchen is right here,” Dregar said, pointing to a room on the map that was labeled with clumsy writing that looked like cat scratch. I assumed he must’ve been orphaned before he was taught to write well.
“Aillil?” Alastrine looked to a boy who looked about half my size, with ears and eyes too big for his head and a head too big for his body. He had bright red hair and freckles. His age I was unable to determine from his height, but he could’ve been anything from eight to twelve years old.
“Hmmmmmm?” he flashed a cheesy grin at Dregar.
“You’ll sneak around to the back door of the kitchen and pick the locks. Understood?”
Aillil grinned again and nodded vigorously, his long red hair flying into his face. He smoothed it back and looked at Nareen self-consciously. Nareen smiled at him, then turned her attention back to Dregar as he gave everyone a job for the little robbery that would take place last night.
In the end, everyone had something to do.
Everyone except me.
“What do I do?” I asked, a bit indignant for not getting a part to play in this. To tell the truth, I didn’t want to follow his orders, but this was his show. He just better include me in it.
He looked me over, unimpressed. “Just… guard the room, okay?” he gave me a look that told me I shouldn’t argue, but I couldn’t help myself.
“What, so you trust the eight year olds to take part in this, and I have to stay here?! I’ve nicked grub from under the noses of shopkeepers all over the place. You think I can’t-”
“You’ll stay here,” he said, and his tone of voice added on the little bit that he didn’t say: “and do what I tell you.”
I glared at him, letting him know with my eyes that maybe he’d won the battle, but he hadn’t won the war. Then I walked over to my cot and made a show of making my bed. While I did this, I managed to take a bag of coins, a small timepiece, and an apple from under the bed next to me- whose it was I didn’t know. He didn’t notice me do it, despite the fact that he was watching my every move. Then I held the items up and raised an eyebrow.
“Missing something?”
He snatched them back angrily and I gave him one more look before I stalked off to the corner with a paper and quill and began to sketch, and a sleek winged lizard-like creature slowly took form on the paper. When I leaned back and looked at it as a whole, I was rather disappointed. I got the sleek and muscular shape right, but not much more than that. The creature looked flat, lifeless. I sighed and crumbled up the paper. The wrought-iron pictures weren’t enough.
At about two in the morning, everyone was ready.
Everyone but me, of course. I didn’t need to prepare for anything. I grabbed another piece of paper and sharpened my pencil with my dagger, then started to draw something I had mastered- a horse, rearing.
When Dregar walked by my corner, I mumbled, “Not good enough, huh? Pig’s arse…” I pretended not to see him as he turned to give me another one of those ‘I am your master’ looks that I already loathed. I continued my drawing, and it slowly took shape, more and more lines and curves appearing as the orphans slowly but surely left the room at the exact time they were supposed to.
By a sudden impulse, I erased the mane and tail on the horse I had drawn and replaced them with flames, and drew a set of wings sprouting from its shoulders. When I finished, I inhaled a sharp breath as I recognized the horse. It was the one that had broken the ice- the horse that was Tighearnan, but wasn’t. I looked around quickly, making sure no one had seen the picture. Everyone was gone.
I didn’t need them.
And then, when they were all gone, I made my decision.
I walked over to the table in the corner and unpinned the map. Then I walked up to my bed, where my bag lay. I was lucky they let me keep it, but they probably wouldn’t have known that the cloak was magic and there wasn’t much more in there than a few stale breadcrumbs and a jar of pickles that I had never been desperate enough to touch.
I opened the bag, and slowly pulled out the cloak. In my hands, it shimmered from the dark green dirty cotton rag to a shining, silk-like material, its colors shifting every time I looked at it. I ran my hand down the beautiful fabric, and my fingers tingled.
I put the cloak over my shoulders and pulled up the hood. All of me- the thin fourteen-year-old girl with dirty blonde hair who needed a bath- faded from sight.
I had a job to do. I had to know more, and I wasn’t going to learn anything by sitting in that cold stone room. It was official- I was getting out of there as soon as possible.

[Sciencin']

Chapter Three
I Grab Some Grub
The halls seemed deserted as I made my way through them, silent as a shadow and invisible with my handy little hood draped over my head. Outside the door, there was a short corridor that led to a spiral staircase. The moonlight filtered in through a small window, casting eerie shadows on the stone walls and illuminating my way. It would’ve been really stupid if my moment of bravado would’ve been ruined by a fall from the stairs.
A long hallway stretched for about fifty yards before splitting off into two directions. The stone walls were draped with tapestries and torch sconces, and the windows on one side decorated with silk curtains. The wooden floors were draped with beautiful carpets, and I bent down and stroked the colorful fabric, which was embroidered with flowers and vines of all shapes and colors. As I walked by a tapestry, I saw a scene of a man riding a horse slaying a large, golden beast that had a mane of fur surrounding its face and an intelligent gleam in its eyes. My eyes watered at the thought of such a noble beast falling to the man’s sword, and I continued down the hall quickly, no longer stopping to marvel at the gruesome images hanging on the walls. Once I passed a kid who must’ve been stationed as a lookout. Of course, he didn’t even notice me as I slipped by- the carpet was so plush I didn’t even have to be quiet.
When I got to the place where the hall split, I pulled out the map and studied it, finding the quickest path to the kitchen. I might as well look for that first, since that would be where I would go if I needed to stock up and leave the Palace.
When I looked up, I almost screamed, because- standing right in front of me- was a statue of a gruesome creature that looked ready to eat my face.
It was made of stone, and looked like a hunchbacked man had shrunk, grown paws and wings, and had his teeth replaced with sharpened stone bananas. Its hideous face was more cat-like in shape, and its stout body was in a crouched position, wings unfurled and tail curled upward. Its tongue stuck out of its mouth, like it wanted a taste before it ate me whole.
I took a step back, then waved my hand in front of its eyes, which were made of cold blue gems.
Nothing happened.
With a huge sigh of relief, I hurried on. Once, I looked over my shoulder, and I swore its eyes were following me, though that was impossible- even if it could see, which it couldn’t since it was made of stone, I was invisible.
I counted the doors until I got to the eighth one, which would lead into the kitchen, assuming the map was correct and I wasn’t standing in front of the door to the royal chambers. There was a guy sitting next to the door, leaning on the wall and snoring away a storm. I got a bit cocky and waved my hand in front of his face, then whispered, “Wake up!” in his ear. He just moaned and a bubble formed under his nostril.
Gross.
I pulled the knife out of my boot and had the lock picked in a matter of about a minute. I slipped through the door and nearly jumped. There were two more orphans by the door on the inside, but they were so focused on their conversation that I managed to close the door without them noticing.
The kitchen was made up of a bunch of tables, cupboards, a pantry, and a large oven. One of the first things I did was walk over to the cupboards and look through all the drawers until I found one that contained the silverware. The silverware had an ivory handle that was decorated with nothing but real gold. I grabbed a spoon, fork, and knife, then headed toward the pantry.
Now it was time to carry out my plan.
I grabbed an apple that had been left out in a bowl on the table and hurled it to the other end of the room, where it knocked over an empty garbage can. The two girls stopped their earbashing and ran over to the upturned trashcan, ready to take on whoever it was who had blown their cover.
Meanwhile, I raced to the pantry door and made it in and out just in time. Then I ran over to the door…
And stopped in my tracks.
There was another guy standing in front of it. My escape route had just been compromised.
I looked over to the open window at the far end of the room. Could I do it?
I had seen the castle walls from outside once before and knew they were not smooth stone, but more like small boulders crudely stuck together with cement in between, and when I looked out the window I saw I was right- there were plenty of hand and foot holds.
No excuses now.
I climbed onto the wide sill of the window and slowly scooted down until my feet found a grip and I was only holding on with my hands. I inspected the walls and soon found handholds in the rocks.
I was now starting my precarious journey back to the dormitory.
My idea was that I could climb down the palace walls, sneak into the lower level by way of another window, and find my way to the room. Easier said than done. Each time I needed to find another handhold, I had to grip at the rock so hard that after a while my skin was rubbed raw on my fingers from the rough stone and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out in pain.
Then catastrophe struck. My foot slipped on some ivy that had grown up onto the wall. This either meant I was close to the bottom or they had some very tall ivy. Possibly both. I was hanging by my hands and frantically scrambling for a foothold. Finally, my boot found purchase on a rock that stuck out from the wall and I took a deep breath to calm my stomach before I climbed the last stretch and my feet found the ground.
It felt good to be standing on something that wasn’t a rock.
I cleaned the blood off my hands by rubbing them on my pants, then wiped the sweat from my forehead.
“Well,” I whispered to myself as I looked to the moon. “That wasn’t easy.”
As the clouds moved to cover the moon, I looked for a way through the palace and into the dormitory. The map was hard to read in the darkness, but I managed to make out a route from one of the side doors to the room with all the beds.
With the moon obscured by clouds, I sprinted toward the door, my footsteps silent as the shadows that were cast by the dim starlight. I realized that for a short time they had been my world, and while I had been sneaking through the Palace I had been one of them. The idea sent a cold shiver down my spine, and I ran faster to get my blood pumping in the chilly air. I rounded a corner, and there was the door, locked as I expected. I reached down to my boot and grabbed-
nothing.
My knife was gone.
I was ready to scream and cry at the same time. All my chances were lost now. How would I explain how I had gotten out of the Palace? What if the Queen herself questioned me? I would have to show her the cloak, and then what would I do?
Frantically, I ran back towards the place where I had climbed down the wall and began to search frantically. Idiot! I told myself. You idiot! How could you have lost your knife?! It was in your boot, for the Queen’s sake! I slapped my forehead, trying to recall where I might’ve dropped it. I searched all around the area, but the knife was nowhere to be seen. Once, I caught a glimpse of the glint of metal in the tall grass, but when I went to investigate, my hopes were crushed by a metal wristguard that I absently strapped onto my arm since it was just sitting there and no one seemed to want it. After about a half an hour, I gave up and leaned against the Palace wall, my eyes watering.
So much for proving myself.
I recalled the room and confirmed that it had only one entrance. I could try to run, but a stone wall and Rouge Guards surrounded the Palace, so my chances were rather low. I looked up at the imposing Palace, its stained glass windows-
Wait.
Windows.
The dormitory had windows.
I wasn’t sure if they were big enough for me to squeeze through, but it gave me a better chance than sitting there crying like a baby would. I walked towards the general area where the dormitory was and peered in. I was right; the small window led into the room.
Now I had another problem. I had to open the window.
With renewed determination, I got to work on the latch that held it open. It opened inward, and was held in place by some cheap hinges and a latch that opened from both inside and outside. I tried the latch, but it was rusted shut. Not about to be deterred by this, I got to work on the hinges. They were rather loose, and I easily stuck the butterknife I had cleverly nicked in the space below the glass and used it like a lever to pry open the glass. The window let out a screech of protest, but finally it opened enough for me to- hopefully- slip through.
The window was wider than it was tall, and I had to go in feet-first, because I might’ve had a hard time trying to land on my feet if I had gone face-first. At one point I started to panic because my back end had gotten stuck in the small space, but I made it through and let out a sigh of relief as my feet touched bottom and I could go to sleep after a long night.
I didn’t worry about the window; I had no means of fixing it even if I had tried.
As I walked towards my bed, the exhaustion seemed to hit me like a wave. I was lucky I remembered to hide my new belongings and take off the cloak before my head hit the pillow and, with a last "I hate everything," I was snoring away in Dreamland.