Lyanna returned to her body, grounded once more. The room swam into place—the silk hangings, the low fire, the faint perfume that clung to Chataya's best chamber. Her palms were cold against her knees from where she'd braced while riding the white raven's mind.
After taking a moment to recover, Lyanna knocked on her door. "We need to talk."
Oswell Whent came first, helm under his arm, humor set behind his eyes. Jonothor Darry followed, stiff as a spear. Lewyn Martell shut and locked the door behind him.
"We have a boat," Lewyn said without preamble. "Captain Serin. He captains a Dornish galley and his family are friends to House Martell. He can get us past the Velaryon patrols and to Dragonstone, if we can get to him quietly."
Oswell nodded once. "I have a dozen friends downstairs. They may not have the look of great warriors, but they keep their blades oiled and their heads clear. All are Rhaegar's men, not Aerys'."
Ser Lewyn looked to Lyanna. "And the passages? You said you would find a way under the Red Keep."
Lyanna shook her head. "I don't think it's possible, at least for where we need to go. I can see the veins of the castle, but there's no clean route from here to Maegor's Holdfast. We'll have to fight part of the way. Those seahorses are all over Aegon's hill"
Silence drank a breath. Then she added, quiet but plain, "There is worse news. Rhaegar lost at the Trident."
The wardrobe latch clicked.
All three Kingsguard turned at once, blades drawn. A round, powdered face peered out from among Chataya's gowns. Varys, in lilac silk, stepped into the room as if he'd been invited.
"Please," he said mildly, palms open, "save the steel for fighting men, I'm harmless."
Darry's sword moved towards the spy's throat. "You," he said, contempt raw. "The king's foul pet."
Lyanna lifted a hand. "Hold. I don't know his heart, but I have seen him do much. Whatever or whoever he serves, it isn't Aerys."
Varys's smile turned complicated, with shock, gratitude and a hint of fear all showing. "Lady Lyanna knows many things it seems. I am impressed she knows that." His gaze drifted, stopping for a moment on her armor in the corner, then continued on to Ser Oswell. "Rhaegar has indeed fallen. The Trident river flows with rubies."
Jonothor winced as if struck. Oswell did not move, but his jaw tightened.
"And you were never for him," Oswell said flatly. "At Harrenhal we tried to measure men for a gentle transition of power. You whispered in Aerys's ear before we took our second breath."
"I revealed what would have been revealed by more dangerous lips," Varys said, polite as tea. "Better a whisper than a shout that ends with heads on spikes. Your prince was not subtle. This city would have bled if he cut too deep. I do many things for the good of the realm."
"Enough," Lewyn said. "Why are you here now?"
"To ask why three white cloaks are here," Varys said. "And to offer help if the answer is one I like."
"We are here to take the princess and her children out," Lewyn said. "All of them. Alive."
Varys folded his hands in front of his belly. "How fortunate. I have already improved the odds. The boy is not where you fear." He glanced to Lyanna. "Little Prince Aegon sleeps on a ship bound for Pentos. An orphan from Flea Bottom holds the king's men's attention. The switch was clean."
Lyanna's eyes narrowed. She could still feel the shadow of Grandmother's boughs. She had not seen this in the long run of visions. "To Pentos. With whom."
"A friend," Varys said. "A wealthy one who enjoys rare wines and rarer debts. Illyrio Mopatis."
Lyanna held his gaze until he blinked. "I know the name," she said. "From other stories. He may indeed be a friend to House Targaryen."
"If the boy is elsewhere, Lewyn must confirm such with his own eyes." Jonothor pointed out. "Elia's features are in him. He would know best."
Prince Lewyn nodded. "I saw the child once in his mother's arms. I will not take anyone's word for him."
Varys's smile returned. "Then you must hurry. The tide can help you catch up for a few hours yet. I can guide you to the quay without tripping over three dozen goldcloaks."
Ser Oswell looked to Lyanna and then to Lewyn.
Lyanna spoke up. "Elia cannot be left to Lannister justice. We don't have much time left to save her and Princess Rhaenys."
"Then we must split up," Ser Oswell sighed.
Lyanna nodded. "Lewyn goes to the boy. He confirms him. He sends Serin back to a cove below the Red Keep. There is a slot in the rock, low water only. We can meet there with Elia and Rhaenys."
Jonothor frowned. "And how do you know this cove."
Lyanna shrugged nonchalantly. "A friend showed it to me," she said. "Old tunnels. New rats. Trust me or don't, Ser Jonothor, but we are past the point of perfect plans."
Varys glided to the door, every step silent. "I will wait outside while you scowl and decide," he said pleasantly. "When you are ready, we will move. But if you want to catch Prince Aegon, best not take too long."
He left through the ordinary door. The latch fell shut.
Oswell let out a breath. "Swollen spider," he muttered, then looked to Lewyn. "Go. If he lies, put a knife in him and take the boy anyway."
Lewyn considered, then nodded. "I will send Serin to the Red Keep's cove whether the child is family or not. You will need a way out regardless." He looked to Lyanna, a brief, sober bow. "For Elia. For all of them."
He clasped forearms with Oswell and Jonothor. Then he opened the door and was gone.
The room felt thinner. Street noise returned through the silk.
Jonothor found his voice first. "Even if the boy is safe, it doesn't change where we must go. How close can the tunnels get us?"
"I can get us to Maegor's, but not inside it," Lyanna said. "It would be easier to get past the remaining guards with a distraction." She touched the helmet of her armor and set it on the table.
"There will be a short window of turmoil when the Lannisters arrive." Jonothor suggested. "Although we need to be gone before they reach the keep."
Oswell tapped his chin in contemplation. "It's risky, but we won't get a better distraction. Especially when the lions turn out to be unfriendly."
Lyanna stood and crossed to the trunk. The Laughing Tree armor lay within like a shed skin. She ran a finger along a buckled strap. "Darry, the Lannisters will be here tomorrow. We cannot take any chances. If you want to wait for their distraction, we must be in place early."
Jonothor's jaw worked. "I have sworn to protect Prince Rhaegar's family. I will not argue."
Ser Oswell nodded his agreement. "Then help get the men ready. I will work with Lady Lyanna on our plan."
Ser Jonothor marched downstairs without complaint.
Lyanna tightened one strap, then another. The pieces found their places eagerly, returning home after months away. She completed the set by donning her helmet.
Whent watched her work. "You mean to go as the tree," he said. He did not try to hide the question inside it.
"The city already whispers about madness and mayhem," she said. "Let them see a mask if it buys us three heartbeats. Masks confuse men. Confused men swing late."
Ser Oswell tightened his own armor and sighed. "I don't mind you taking up armor and a sword for protection," he said. "Yet please be careful when the fighting starts. We did promise to keep you safe."
"I will keep my head down if you keep your jokes to one per hour," she said. The corner of his mouth twitched.
Laughing guests and giggling courtesans could be heard downstairs as over a dozen men walked up Chataya's steps together. Lyanna joined in once she realized how the scene appeared.
Ser Oswell Whent shook his head with a smile. "Poor Jonothor. If only that man had a single subtle bone in his body."
The white knight faced great adversity as he held back a jape.