JEDAWrites

“I shouldn’t have asked you.”
Ilsa glanced toward the guard’s prone body behind the headstone. They had thirty minutes left if she hadn’t miscalculated.
“Nonsense,” Walther replied between pants, “You can barely pick up this shovel, let alone dig with it. Your delicate physician’s hands would get all blistered.”
“Physician’s assistant’s hands,” Ilsa corrected, hugging her potion bag.
After tonight, she may never be a full physician.
The sound of metal hitting wood reverberated through the cemetery. Walther flashed a triumphant smile. Ilsa smiled stiffly as she slid into the hole next to him. Together, they removed the last of the dirt from the casket. Ilsa’s hand hovered above the viewing door. At this point, both realities were possible. She was both right and wrong. King Oswald was both dead and alive.
Walther swung the door open, revealing the king’s still face.
“There, he’s dead. You can rest easy now.”
“Wait.”
Ilsa pulled her glasses off and pressed them under the king’s nose. Two columns of condensation appeared on the lens. Her stomach dropped.
“He’s alive.”
Walther’s eyes widened, and he fell back. “Maiden’s beard, Ilsa, you pronounced him dead! What are you going to do? What are we going to do?”
Someone groaned from up above.
“I thought we had an hour,” Walther hissed.
Ilsa didn’t reply. Instead she dug through her bag, looking for the vial she’d prepared.
“What was in that drink?” a voice asked.
“You bought it, not me,” the other guard replied.
Ilsa raised her hand to throw the vial. The calculations for the potion ran through her head. She had remembered to halve the saltpeter, right? Walther snatched the vial and threw it. At the clink of breaking glass, the air filled with smoke.
“Go!” Walther coughed into her ear.
“Take the king!”
“What? Fine! Just go!”
Ilsa clambered out of the hole, racing toward the door into the castle. Behind her, the guards yelled curses. She swung the door open, thwaking it against the stone wall. Walther bowled in after with the king on his back.
They had no time to rest. Shouts and booted footsteps pounded down the hall ahead. Ilsa led the way left through corridors and up staircases, her destination already in mind. She would fix this, and Errestus would never know.
At one point, Walther slowed at an intersection, looking down a hall as Ilsa rocketed the opposite way.
“You missed a turn.”
“We’re not going back to my room.”
“Where are we going?”
Ilsa hesitated. “His room.”
Walther stopped. “Are you trying to kill us? We need to go to Errestus.”
A guard rounded the corner. “They’re here!”
The chase continued, Ilsa and Walther staying a hairsbreadth away from the guards’ spears. The king’s rooms lay up one more staircase around one more corner. Shouts called again, but they weren’t from behind.
Boots thundered down that last staircase.
Spotting a door ahead, Ilsa dove inside and pulled Walther in behind her. With a click, she locked it, hearing half the castle’s guards rumble past.
“Let’s leave him here.” Walther whispered, “We can climb out these windows and find Errestus. It’s his mistake too. He’s the senior physician for Maiden’s sake!”
“He gave me the responsibility.”
Errestus had even found the body but let her make the call. Ilsa’s face burned in shame.
“Maybe. But if we make it to his rooms, do you think they’ll believe the king ran there himself?”
“It could be a Maiden miracle.”
“Be practical. Errestus is friends with the queen. He can help explain.”
“I can’t let him know!”
A ringing silence fell.
“When he let me do the call, he promised to finally give me the recommendation. I could be a full physician.”
Walther shifted the king on his back, not answering. Ilsa chewed her lip. She shouldn’t have asked him to come. Another mistake.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
Ilsa couldn’t answer. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
Walther sighed. “I always wanted an interesting death. Open that window.”
Not looking down, Ilsa managed to pull herself up to the king’s window with only a few slips. Walther climbed inside first, and she fell in behind.
“Who are you?” A shrill voice asked. “Is that my Oswald?”
“Ilsa? What is this?” The second voice sounded too familiar.
Ilsa’s blood ran cold. She peered up to see Errestus, passing his glare between her and Walther. A vial in his hand shattered. Ilsa felt her dreams shatter with it.
The time had come to accept it.
“The king is alive,” Ilsa said.
“Impossible. You checked him,” the queen glared at Errestus.
“I-” Errestus’ mouth worked.
“Errestus asked me to make the call. I made the mistake.”
Ilsa felt Walther’s hand squeeze her shoulder.
“I’ve been doubting myself all day. When night fell, I forced Walther to help me dig his majesty up. I confirmed it. He’s alive.”
“Don’t listen, Agnise. She’s confused,” Errestus laughed.
The queen, however, surged forward. “Show me.”
Ilsa helped Walther lower the king to the ground and removed her glasses. The queen gasped as the king’s breath appeared on the lens. His eyelids even twitched.
Errestus paled, backing toward the door.
“I’ll take the blame, Errestus.”
Despite Ilsa’s words, the physician didn’t look reassured. He lurched to the door, his wet hand struggling with the knob.
“Mmm…” King Oswald mumbled.
Ilsa’s eyebrows scrunched. Why was Errestus so afraid? She had messed up.
“Guards! Seize Errestus!” the queen called, lip curling in disgust.
The door swung open, and guards rushed in.
“Take him to the dungeon!”
“Please give me another chance!” Errestus blubbered.
The guards slammed the door shut, cutting Errestus off.
The king’s hand brushed Ilsa’s. She looked down to see his eyes wide. “Mmmuurr…”
Silver flashed near the corner of Ilsa’s eyes. She acted immediately, tackling the queen to the floor.
“What are you doing?” Walther asked Ilsa, horrified.
“Making a mistake!” the queen snarled.
Ilsa pried the knife from the queen’s hand. “Not this time.”