Sir Callie and the Dragon's Roost, page 24
Sulio is waiting for us at the door, as calm and somber as if he’d already been filled in and was expecting us. He greets us with a warm smile and coaxes us into the small treetop dwelling.
“Come, sit down.”
Their home is small, but it’s also huge, and my head spins trying to work it out. It’s a single, round room that goes up and up and up, like we’re inside the tree trunk itself. There are no windows, but light flutters in the air like fireflies, warming the home as easily as a blazing fire.
Curtains woven from brightly colored threads create doors to private spaces, and the rough wooden floors are covered with mats and carpets. Branches crisscross from wall to wall, hung with hammocks and draped with clothes in all shapes and sizes. The smell of something sweet and spiced drifts from a small alcove concealed beneath the walkway that spirals up to the very top of the dwelling, and the rest of the brood all look about when we step inside.
They’re sitting on cushions around a low table filled with cups and books, a half-finished knitted garment that might be a scarf or a blanket, and empty bowls from that evening’s meal.
Edwyn and I linger awkwardly on the threshold until a gentle nudge from Sulio pushes us all the way inside.
The grown-ups get to work immediately.
Inis takes both our hands and coaxes us into the warmth, plying us with cushions and blankets and all manner of soft things. Dolan disappears into the alcove to tend to whatever is cooking on the stove, and Feena joins Kensa and Sulio by the door.
The sound of their low, serious murmuring hurts my stomach. It’s the tone grown-ups use when they don’t want you to hear what they’re saying. I huddle into my blanket, breathing in the comforting smells of woodsmoke and lavender.
“Callie?”
I peek out to see Feena crouched beside me, hand out, palm up.
“Do you mind if I take a look at that potion?”
I’d forgotten about the bottle locked tight in my hand. My palm aches when I let it go, the chiseled crystal leaving grooves in my skin.
“Thank you.”
She spirits it away to where Dolan is working.
“I must return to Pioden,” I hear Kensa tell Sulio. “I will come home as quickly as I can. Teo will be back with the other two soon. Don’t let any of them leave before I get back.”
Fire flashes through my blood. As tired as I am, I leap up.
“You can’t keep us here against our will! You can’t trap us!”
Inis rises with me. “No one is trying to trap you, Callie—”
“Don’t lie! I heard what Kensa said!” I glare at the dragon. “What do you want with us? At least give us the courtesy of telling us why we’re here!”
Kensa looks back at me impassively. “I cannot, little knight.”
“Why not?”
In response, Kensa touches xir side. The place beneath xir ribs. The same place where Neal’s mark lies.
The witch’s kiss.
I freeze.
In Dumoor, oaths are binding, Kensa reminds me inside my head. And my bonds choke me. I cannot give you what you deserve to know. I can only give you the resources to find out for yourself. That is why you are here. And, out loud, “I must go.”
And then xe’s gone. Just like that.
It’s too much.
Between Jowan and Edwyn and Kensa and Peran and Adan and the war and everything…
It’s too much.
My knees fold and I curl into myself, yanking my hair until my scalp burns. There’s too much to fix and I don’t know where to start and I don’t know how to make things better and I don’t know who to trust and I don’t know anything!
Dolan touches my shoulder. “Child—”
“I’m not a child!” I rip away with a snarl that hurts my throat. “I am a person! We are people! And I’m sick of everyone treating us like we’re nothing! Like we’re not even worthy of information that concerns us! No one tells us anything! No one asks us what we want or what we think! We’re just expected to trust you when we’ve barely even met you! Kensa tried to kill us the first time we met, did you know that? And now we’re supposed to just believe that xe has our best interests at heart? It’s our lives you’re all playing with! Why don’t any of you get that? You tell us what to do like you know us, but you don’t! We have to yell to be heard! We have to fight to be seen! And it’s not fair!”
I grind my palms into my eyes because I don’t want to see the way they’re looking at me. I don’t want to feel bad and I don’t want to apologize and I don’t want to be placated. Nothing is right and nothing can be made right because it’s all already happened. Jowan is dead. Edwyn is shattered. Willow lost everything. Elowen is filled with rage she shouldn’t be expected to contain. And me…
I want my dads.
Neal would show me how to pick all this mess apart and how to put it back together in a way that would make sense. And Papa would be on my side, no questions asked, no conditions. They would let me rage and cry. They would include me.
I don’t know how to do this on my own.
“Breathe, Callie,” Dolan reminds me.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I mumble, but I follow the instruction; breathing in slow and letting it out slower. It helps. A little.
The door bangs open, and Willow’s hugging me before I can even look around.
“Callie, what’s going on?”
I hug him back. Hard. “I don’t know.”
“Where were you? El and I went looking for you both, and when you weren’t anywhere…”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think we’d be gone long enough to worry you.”
“Five minutes would be long enough to make us worry,” Elowen snaps.
I pull my head up and she’s with Edwyn, who’s hunched down like he’s got a stomachache.
Feena beckons to the rest of the brood. “Let us give you some privacy. We’ll be outside if you need us.”
Elowen waits until all the grown-ups are gone, then her glare returns to me and Edwyn. “Talk,” she orders us both. “Now.”
But I don’t know how. I don’t know if I should. I don’t know if it’s safe. I don’t know anything.
My eyes burn and I hide my face in Willow’s shoulder before I start bawling. Willow hugs me tight.
“Here, get this down.”
There’s a clink and I blink up to see Dolan and Teo setting down four enormous mugs.
None of us move.
“What is it?” Elowen asks, not even bothering to hide her suspicion.
“Chocolate,” Dolan says. “With cinnamon and nutmeg. Don’t worry, there’s nothing weird in it. Look—” They return with two more mugs and hand Teo the one that has Teo painted in huge red letters. “Cheers!” They clink and drink in unison.
Teo comes away with a full chocolate mustache. “Sulio’s specialty,” xe says with a grin. “It’s the best cure for a hard day.”
“Not a cure,” Sulio amends. “But it goes some way toward helping. Especially if you’re heading toward hard conversations.”
I wonder how much they know, how much they can guess just by looking at us. I hate that everything inside my head is written so blatantly across the surface of my skin. But I don’t have the energy to pretend to be anything except what I am.
Willow follows Teo’s lead, sitting cross-legged at the low table and raising the mug to his lips. The rest of us watch intently as Helston’s crown prince drinks steadily.
He doesn’t die.
He doesn’t even grimace.
Just beams and assures us, “It’s good!”
I sniff warily at my own and the smell takes me all the way back home to Eyrewood. This is Neal’s recipe. Precious and potent; brewed only in the most dire emergencies like periods and grumpiness. I close my eyes and drink deeply. It’s creamy and spicy, bitter and sweet all in one mouthful.
The chocolate slides down my throat and warms me from the inside out, soothing my spinning head and slowing everything down until thinking doesn’t hurt so bad anymore; a promise that everything’s gonna be okay. Maybe not quickly, certainly not easily, but eventually.
When I open my eyes again, Elowen is watching me closely.
I take a deep breath and put down my cup. No point trying to make it pretty. “It was Peran and Adan. They plotted the murder, they carried it out, and they covered it up.”
Elowen swallows and her voice shakes as she asks, “How do you know?”
“Because I was there,” says Edwyn. His drink sits untouched beside folded hands. He speaks to his fingers. “I heard everything.”
Willow’s mouth drops open. “Wh-what?”
“It was all laid out. How they were going to do it and how they were going to hide it. How they would make it look like Dumoor.”
“You knew…,” Willow whispers. “You knew this whole time…”
“It wasn’t like that,” I say quickly, since it doesn’t look like Edwyn’s gonna give the right context anytime soon. “Willow, you know what Peran and Adan were like. Are like. They would’ve killed him if he’d said anything to anyone.”
Edwyn glowers at me. “That’s not an excuse.”
“No,” I return. “You’re right. It’s not an excuse; it’s a reason. All that stuff you had to dig out, you literally had to forget it. That’s how bad it was. It wasn’t your choice to tell or not to tell.”
Willow sits forward, expression stony. “What do you mean, he had to forget?”
“I mean just that,” I say, looking between him and El, making sure they’re listening and understanding. “That’s why we had to go to the pool.”
“If you’d forgotten,” says Elowen, “how did you know to go looking?”
Every question sets Edwyn’s shoulders tighter and tighter until he’s bunched into himself. “They were still there, my memories. They exist because they happened, just…put away somewhere I couldn’t get to them. I—I know it sounds ridiculous, but I swear, I’m not lying. Seeing…seeing His Highness fall, it was like kicking a chest I thought was empty and hearing something inside. I didn’t know what I would find. I—I didn’t know what I knew.” He swipes roughly at one tear, erasing the track before it reaches his cheek. “I know I should’ve been braver. Back in the beginning. I—I’m sorry. I know it was my fault. I—I take full responsibility—”
“No,” says Willow, and Edwyn shuts his mouth with a wince.
Willow doesn’t speak again for a long while, and it feels like we’re waiting for a formal verdict to be passed down for sentencing. Even Elowen looks anxious, gaze flicking between Willow and her brother.
Then, softly, “It wasn’t your fault. What happened with Jowan. What happened at all. None of it was your fault. Even if it wasn’t locked away and you did remember, it still wouldn’t be your fault. How does it feel? How do you feel? Because I’m guessing it’s not all going to go back in, is it?”
Edwyn shakes his head slowly, as wary as if Willow had raised his voice. “No, it isn’t going to go back in. And I…I don’t want it to.”
My eyebrows shoot up so high they nearly leave my head. “Seriously.”
“Yes.” Edwyn’s hands fidget. “It’s hard, and it hurts, and there’s so much more than you saw. And I understand why I made myself forget. If this had happened in Helston, I don’t think I would be okay, but…it’s like I was in a fog I didn’t even realize and everything was blurry around the edges. But now it’s cleared, and I can see, and there are details I’ve never noticed before. I—I don’t know how to explain it, only that…something’s different. Not better, not worse, just different. Seeing myself from the outside, the way others—you—see me…I suppose I can believe you now, in the way I couldn’t before.”
Willow’s head tilts curiously. “Believe us how?”
Edwyn’s lip disappears briefly between his teeth, and he can’t look at us when he says, “That they weren’t right. Father and Adan. It wasn’t right, what they did to me. And I…I didn’t…deserve it.”
The confession is small, almost guilty, and it’s like Edwyn’s bracing himself for retribution, hunching up and holding his breath. Like just the thought is a punishable offense.
“No one deserves it,” Willow says, shifting closer until their shoulders bump. “Not even you.”
“I know that. Now. I think.” Edwyn sucks in a deep breath, and when he exhales, all the weariness in his body goes rushing out. He leans on Willow, eyes closed. “Or I’m beginning to, at least.”
“That’s something,” says Elowen.
“That’s everything,” I add, and Willow nods emphatically.
“Perhaps. But also…I—I feel so stupid. I should’ve known. I should’ve seen. I should’ve been braver. I should’ve…I—I should’ve—”
“You did exactly what you needed to do,” Willow murmurs, moving slightly to put his arm around Edwyn’s shoulders. “There was nothing you could’ve done to save Jowan, but you did what you could to save yourself. And I’m really glad you did.”
Once upon a time, not so long ago, Edwyn would’ve pulled free of the embrace, deflecting the warmth with a sullen mumble.
Today, right now, he accepts it, turning his face into Willow’s shoulders.
And I can breathe a little easier.
“So, what now?” Elowen asks, her clipped voice sharpening the peace. “What do we do with this new information? What difference does it make? Father and Adan are still Helston.”
“But if there’s to be a battle for justice, holding two people accountable is way better than vilifying a whole kingdom, isn’t it? This is gonna stop the war and save lives!”
Elowen meets my gaze squarely. “How?”
“What d’you mean, how?”
“I mean…It isn’t just about Prince Jowan, is it? He wasn’t the only person hurt. He isn’t the only one who deserves justice. What about everyone else? What about us? I don’t understand how this changes anything.”
“And I don’t understand how you don’t understand!” I yell. “We can heal instead of fight! We can put things right. We can make Helston home again!”
I want it so bad, my head aches. The Helston that could’ve been. That should’ve been. The Helston of Papa’s stories and my dreams. The Helston that came within a finger’s reach—
“Helston was never home,” says Elowen, low and furious. “I don’t care if Prince Jowan walked right in here now, alive and well, it wouldn’t change anything! It wasn’t just Father and it wasn’t just Adan, it was every single person who watched them hurt us and did nothing! Every single person who believed Father, who believed Adan, even Her Majesty, over us. Every. Single. Person. And I want them all to pay. Helston deserves to burn.”
Silence rings as loud as Helston’s bells.
The fire in Elowen’s eyes burns as hot and true as Kensa’s.
She would set the kingdom ablaze on her own given the chance.
And, for the first time, I am afraid of her.
By the looks of them, Willow and Edwyn are too.
Elowen flushes and turns away from us. “I don’t want peace,” she says. “I want to fight. And I don’t need your blessing to seek it.” She rises stiffly, tucking her newly cut hair back behind her ears, and hesitates. Then, “Freedom is the choice to follow your own path. I don’t think we’re on the same road anymore.”
I stagger up as she steps toward the door. “What’re you doing? Where’re you going?”
Edwyn stands too. “Elowen, stop! You can’t just—”
“I can,” she tells her brother. “I can do whatever I choose. And I’m not ‘just’ anything. I have known what I want since long ago. I’m not waiting any longer. Come with me if you wish, but I will not be held back anymore. I am going to pledge myself to Dumoor.”
“El, no—”
She’s already gone. The door is shut behind her.
But I’m not done.
I go right after her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“Elowen!”
She is already on the ground, walking briskly toward the moors, to Pioden.
I take the ladder so fast I nearly fall. I hit the ground hard and run. My back hurts and my head aches, but I don’t care.
She ignores me all the way until I grab her arm, and then she wheels on me with a snarl. “Don’t touch me!”
“Then stop and talk to me!”
“I am tired of talking and not being heard. You have already made up your mind. You and Willow. The moment it seems like your precious parents aren’t as culpable as you thought, you are all ready to go back to Helston and just forget. Because that’s the only reason we’re here now, isn’t it?” She gives a brittle laugh, eyes bright with tears. “It wasn’t until you and Willow were about to suffer that you cared enough to leave.”
I reach for her desperately. “El, that’s not true—”
“Don’t call me a liar! We are not fighting the same war, Callie. We never were. For you and Willow, it was all about Jowan. It’s simple. Easy. Not for me. Not for Edwyn.” Her voice pitches high with grief. “You saw what they did to him. The fire kept burning long after Father left. It isn’t over for us. And I cannot forgive. So don’t ask me to.” She backs away, then turns from me. “We are not on the same side.”
My body feels boneless, my heart heavier than a stone.
“How can you say that?” I hear myself ask, my own voice sounding like it’s far away and underwater. “You told me—you told everyone—what you felt for me, and now you’re saying we’re not even on the same side? Both can’t be true, so which is it? Which is the lie?”
Her throat flickers in a swallow. “Neither,” she says. “Neither is a lie. I meant what I said, then and now. Callie, I…You are the most important person to me, but that isn’t enough. I have given too much of myself for the people I love. I can’t do that anymore. I need to do what’s right for me.”
