The one called Baboot looked at Meva and said, "Is this not your kidnapper?"
Meva shouted back at him, "My father is my kidnapper, my ex-fiance is my kidnapper, loneliness is my kidnapper, but this miner is not my kidnapper!"
Baboot paused, then called out to two of the guards, one from each group.
"Tanik, Dark Leth!"
As the two guards stepped forward, Baboot ordered all of the others to return to their base.
The small sense of relief I felt by the exit of the guards was quickly wiped away as the one called Baboot slowly leaned in to whisper to the two other guards. With eyes fixed on us, they were clearly formulating some sort of plan.
Suddenly, the two guards charged at us. I pushed Meva away.
"Run!" I screamed.
The first guard swung his needled-fist at me. I ducked, bringing my fist up into his stomach. He fell back, clutching himself, struggling for air. The second guard kicked out my legs, and I fell onto my back. He brought his needle down on me, but I caught his wrist, stopping the needle just inches from my chest. We strained against each other for a moment. Suddenly he went limp, and rolled off me.
I looked up to see Baboot standing over me with his needle hand pointing towards me. But suddenly, he lowered it. Then I realized he had shot both of the other guards! Needles protruded from their backs.
Meva and I shared puzzled looks.
The one called Baboot took off his helmet, revealing long hair that fell free, almost reaching the ground.
"Quace!” Meva cried out, and ran to her.
They embraced. Later, Meva told me that Quace had been one of her playmates when they were growing up. She had gotten her name when once she had bet her whole inheritance on a single hand of cards, and won with a quace.
It was clear to me in that moment that Meva was no ordinary person. In the company of Quace, she seemed elevated to her royal position again. They talked of nannies, summer cottages, exotic pets, travels to meet dignitaries in other countries, and little sandwiches with the crusts cut off.
Finally, the conversation returned to the situation at hand. Quace told us that there was a massive hunt going on for us. A lifetime of wages had been promised to anyone who turned us in. The only condition was that Meva must be brought in alive and I must be brought in dead.
Quace opened a map, and showed us the placement of guards and which areas to avoid. Luckily, the search was concentrated away from us, because they thought I was heading in the opposite direction. Quace knew of a safe house that at one time belonged to an old widow, who later died of food poisoning.
Meva was puzzled by this news, and asked how Quace knew of this safe-house. For years Quace worked with a criminal underground, helping thieves escape from the royal family’s dungeons. Meva was stunned at first, but realized this could work in our favor.
Quace told us that there was one problem with the safe–house; if we stayed in it for more than two days we would be transformed into baby goats.
Meva pointed her finger up the river on the map not far from the safe-house. Quace told us to find a boat, and float down to the town of Grint. The town was rural, and many outsiders came to buy and sell, so we would not stand out. Then we could make our way to yet another cottage in the mountains. That place was even more rural, so nobody would find us for as long as we wanted to stay, and we wouldn’t be turned into baby goats.
Quace gave us the map. I took the backpacks from the dead guards, giving one to Meva and taking the other one myself. Meva and Quace hugged each other. Quace begged forgiveness for her treachery.
Meva said, "I cannot pardon you as a member of the royal family, but I do as a friend."
They embraced and we left Quace standing there alone in the road.
We got off the main path at the point Quace indicated on the map. For several days, we threaded our way through trees and over streams, until finally we reached the safe-house.
It was a simple shack of wood with a roof of straw. Inside, the air smelled of mold, and the floor was bare dirt. The walls were covered with simple paintings of goats. A fireplace made of stacked stones towered up through the thatch roof. I couldn't imagine anyone staying long, even without the threat of turning into a baby goat.
Using blankets from the guard’s packs, I made a bed for Meva beside the fireplace, and a second for myself in front of the door.
That night, as I lay in my bed watching the light of the fire dance across the tangled straw of the ceiling, I thought about what Meva had done to protect me from the guards and their needles. Finally, I asked her the question I had not found the courage to ask before, "Do you want your dream of marriage to come true for us?"
"Are you asking me to marry you, Tzurk?"
I thought for a moment. I was a nobody. A lowly miner, and she was not only of royal blood, but beautiful and true. No, I couldn't think of that. I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Meva, will you marry me?"
"I will."