Free The Knife's Edge by Matthew Wolf

matter, she thought and quickly tucked the smooth stone in her bag.
    The hard rap of knuckles sounded on the door. Karil grabbed a fistful of her split-riding skirt. Three knocks. She remembered their code and rushed to the door, unlocking it. Rydel flowed inside like a tempest. He passed her wordlessly and strode to the window. His grand hando cloak of black and forest green fluttered as he moved. Karil knew the cloak silently demanded respect, for he was one of only ten elves who bore the same shroud. He took the room in two giant strides, throwing back the drapes.
    Outside, lights from the kingdom glowed. Hues of amethyst and sapphire lit the forest. A vast canopy was obscured by mist and cloud. Far below, tiny white dots blushed where twisting paths wound throughout the forest. The whole kingdom appeared as if stars were flung amid the trees. Each tree was a towering guardian, their trunks the width of cities. Below, a staircase glimmered, as if made of shimmering glass. It encircled the main structure they were in, the massive Spire, twining all the way up the Great Tree.
    “Is it time?” she asked, stepping forward. Her voice was strong. She was glad for that—the tears shed were all but a memory. Rydel was quiet. His slender elvin eyes, a piercing green, watched the staircase. His sharp ears pricked, as if hearing sounds her half-elf ears could not.
    Karil joined his side. “What is it? What do you see?”
    “I see them. They are coming.” Rydel turned. He grabbed her shoulders. “We must leave, now.”
    “So soon,” she said, “Somehow I thought there would be more time. Is everything ready?”
    Rydel grabbed her pack. “The horses are waiting in the stables. All that is required now is to get to them, from there I have cleared a path out of the woods.” She heard the unspoken message in his words. If we can make it there…
    “How many?” she asked.
    “A dozen in the halls, maybe more, and hundreds scattered around the grounds of the city.” She saw his hesitancy, as if he was afraid to speak the rest, “What we feared has come to pass. Dryan is seizing upon the chaos of your father’s murder. Elves are joining his side in droves. There will be hundreds, if not thousands looking for you soon. You are the only thing standing between Dryan and the throne now.”
    “And what of our supporters?”
    “Most are dead or swayed to his side.”
    “Then Dryan has won,” she whispered.
    “No. Not yet. It will not be long before the entire kingdom is crawling, and then all hope of escaping will be lost. But there is still a chance if we leave now.”
    If all things good can go to ruin so quickly, what did it matter? Karil rested a hand upon the windowsill. “I can always trust you, can’t I Rydel?”
    Rydel answered without hesitation. “Forever, my queen.” Karil tensed. The title was daunting, but somehow he made it sound true and good.
    “Lead the way,” she ordered and he nodded.
    They left her quarters and swiftly navigated their way through the labyrinth of halls, taking the least used routes. Though they moved quickly, they were high in the Spire, where all the nobility resided. They turned a corner and saw shadows nearing. They threw themselves against the wall. The shadows revealed themselves as servants trailing robed nobles. Karil breathed a sigh. For a moment she considered gathering them as allies. Judging by their robes that were shades of green, they were of the House of Nava, a staunch supporter of her father. She shook her head. No one could be trusted.
    As they ran, she caught glimpses through wide windows of bright lights like dashing sprites in the night. Rydel abruptly pressed her against the wall. Karil waited, listening, the elf’s rock-like arm holding her in place. He pulled them back further, moving into a carved niche, tucked behind a standing vase of Merilian Silver. She looked but saw nothing. The halls were silent. Then, around the bend, something shifted. Karil’s