Sir Callie and the Dragon's Roost, page 27
He drops Willow.
And Willow falls.
Our fingers just miss each other.
“Catch him!” I scream at Teo, and the dragon dives.
The air is so sharp, I can’t see. I grope for Willow, wishing and wishing and promising not to wish for anything else so long as I live. My hand finds his wrist. His hand finds mine. And we’re still falling. The three of us hurtling down and about to crash but at least we’re together and—
Teo’s wings catch a current and it is just enough to slow us down before the ground comes up to meet us.
A giggle bubbles in my throat, and once it bursts, I can’t stop. The grass is itchy beneath me, and my body hurts so bad something’s got to be broken. But we made it.
We made it.
Except we didn’t.
“Run!” Willow drags me up by both arms. “We have to go!”
“Get on my back,” says Teo. “I can get you to Helston.”
“You can’t carry us—”
“I can. I will,” says the dragon fiercely. “I won’t let you down.”
Teo is about the same size as Flo—minuscule compared to Kensa’s monstrous form. Willow and I could just about fit on xir back, but Teo’s wings…
“Kensa said if you push yourself too hard too soon, you won’t develop right.”
“I don’t care,” says Teo, yellow eyes blazing. “If this is the only thing I ever do, I want to do it. Get on my back.”
What choice do we have?
Willow and I share a last anxious look, and we mount the dragon.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
I squeak the moment Teo moves. Xe might be the size of my horse, but xir anatomy is completely different. Willow and I are squished between Teo’s neck and xir wing joints, trying not to get impaled on one of the many sharp spikes jutting along Teo’s spine.
Dragons were definitely not designed for riding.
Each step Teo takes rocks us nearly out of our seats. Willow clings to my middle and I cling to Teo. If we make it halfway to Helston in one piece, it’ll be nothing short of a miracle.
And that doesn’t even account for flying.
Teo spreads xir wings wide, gait speeding up, into a gallop that rocks us violently.
I’m 99 percent sure we’re going to die.
“Hold on!” Teo calls back, like we weren’t already hanging on for dear life, and then xe leaps.
I scream, locking my eyes so tightly shut I don’t think they’re ever gonna open again.
My stomach feels weird and the air is freezing my scalp, and I know we’re climbing higher and higher but I don’t dare look.
And then we stop. At least, it feels like we stop.
I crack one eye open a fraction of a millimeter and gasp.
Okay, so that’s pretty cool.
Wind ripples around us as we soar above Wyndebrel, between birds below and clouds above. There’s no more jarring motion about to pitch us off, just smooth, flawless flight.
I open my other eye and risk a look down.
I can see everything.
The great, dark expanse of Dumoor Forest; the miles and miles of moorland. Glittering sea to the north, south, and west. And right on the farthest tip of Wyndebrel, Helston.
From up here, it doesn’t look so far away. Like I could just reach across and touch it. It’s weird to think there are only a few miles between Dumoor and Helston. It feels like leagues.
“I wish we could stay up here forever.” I don’t realize I’m speaking out loud until Willow hums in agreement.
“I wish we didn’t have to land.”
“I wish we could turn around and fly all the way in the opposite direction.”
“We could.” Teo’s long neck twists back so that xe can catch my eye. “If you wanted to.”
I suck my lip. It’s painfully tempting, made worse by how easy it would be.
As the grown-ups keep telling us, this is not our fight. They don’t want us involved. It’s not our responsibility.
But, as we keep telling them, that’s not true.
This is our world and our lives, and we are the only ones who are willing to do what must be done to set things right.
“No,” I say. “Keep going.”
Even though Helston doesn’t look far away from up here, progress is slow.
“I can’t go faster,” says Teo when xe senses my anxiety. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” This is still way faster than if we were on foot. “When we get to Helston, we’re going straight to Papa,” I tell Willow, making the most of the time we have to strategize. “If we land on the beach, maybe no one’ll notice us.”
“What about the wards?”
“The wards?” I curse viciously. I’d forgotten about the wards. “They alert the watch, right? Is that it?” If we have to battle a few soldiers, so be it.
“The wards were erected to keep magic out,” Willow explains. “The more someone has, the bigger the consequence. I—I’m not sure exactly what that entails. Dumoor’s never tried to infiltrate directly, as far as I know.”
“Teo got through before, though. When they first brought xem in.”
“Mother lowered the wards to let them through.”
Of course she did.
I lean down across Teo’s neck. “If you land on the hill beyond the bridge, we can walk the rest of the way.”
“Nope,” says Teo, coasting left to dip below a flock of confused gulls. “Even if I were willing to leave you—which I’m not—look at the bridge.”
Willow and I peer down through the haze of clouds.
Helston’s once-proud bridge stretches over the gulf, held up by an elaborate framework of scaffolding. A huge chunk is still missing from the middle.
“They haven’t finished fixing it yet,” Willow breathes.
I can’t take my eyes off the skeletal structure. “You make it sound like that’s a good thing.”
“It is,” he insists. “The army cannot move out until the bridge is fixed. That means we still have time to stop them.”
He’s right.
We still have time.
There is still hope.
Teo soars around Helston, searching for the right place to make first contact. There’s no good place, not when they’ll know we’re there the moment Teo’s wing tip touches the wards. We have to just go and deal with whatever consequence occurs.
The scariest part is always not knowing.
On the ground, Helston is readying itself for war.
The palace grounds are packed with horses and people moving as busily as ants. And they’re all looking up at us.
Suddenly, landing doesn’t feel like such an attractive idea.
Then Willow points and yells. “I see them, Callie! Mother and Sir Nick!”
I follow his finger, scanning the faces coming into focus the closer we get. And I see them too, distant but distinct figures far below us.
My heart leaps.
“Get ready,” says Teo, angling down.
Willow holds on to me and I hold on to Teo, and the three of us brace for impact.
Far below, our shadow is huge, and it isn’t long before Helston starts to notice and panic. Tiny figures run and scatter. Others point to the sky. I can hear the distant shout of command, ordering men to their positions, ready to defend against the enemy.
I wonder if they know it’s us.
I wonder if it would make a difference if they did.
Close up, Queen Ewella’s wards shimmer like the surface of the sea on a summer’s day.
Before, passing through the wards was like being doused in cold water.
This time, it’s like smashing through glass.
Teo cries out in pain, and our smooth flight cracks and stutters. Xe fights desperately to get more height, flapping and writhing like a wounded snake, all the while trying to keep me and Willow on xir back.
The bells start to toll before the ground comes up to meet us.
It comes hard and painful. I skid, gravel ripping into my chin and my hands. I groan. But I don’t have time to lie there and catch my breath or take count of my injuries.
Orders are thrown through the air and the whole force of Helston bears down on us. I find Willow and Teo. Willow’s face is bleeding, his cheek one huge gash of blood and dirt, but he’s on his feet too, with magic ready and blazing in torn hands.
Teo, on the other hand, is in a bad state.
Xe lies on the ground, wings limp around xem. Red blood stands out stark against xir beautiful blue-green scales. Xir eyes are wide and wild.
I move to help, to comfort, to do anything, but a barked order—“Don’t move”—freezes me.
We’re surrounded on all sides, but not by knights and soldiers.
By kids.
Pages I trained with, done up in full battle gear, and younger ones I don’t recognize, who must’ve started their training after we left. Ten years old. Eleven at most.
They hold their swords in unpracticed hands, their ferocity a fragile front.
Is this really how Helston plans to win?
Willow stands up tall and stares down the length of the sword pointed right between his eyes. “We didn’t come here to fight. I am the Crown Prince Willow, and I demand to see my mother, the queen. You will put down your weapons and you will allow us to help our friend.”
The sword’s owner—an older boy with straw-blond hair and a pale, spotty face—falters. “Prince Willow…Prince Willow is dead.”
“Do I look dead?” Willow snaps. “Take me to Her Majesty at once. I have time-sensitive documents she needs to see.”
For a single sweet moment, I believe it’s enough.
A murmur rumbles through the pages, and the swords and arrows aimed at us start to drop.
“They’re lying!” Peter snarls, barging his way through the crowd and scattering kids like pins. “Prince Willow fell in Dumoor Forest. I saw it with my own eyes!” He glares at me. “Callie too. Whoever these infiltrators are, they’re wearing their skin to trick us! Don’t be fooled!”
I stare at Peter.
He looks awful, like he hasn’t slept since that night in the forest. He looks like Edwyn at his worst, and it’s impossible not to feel horribly sorry for him.
“I know that’s what Adan told you to say.” I keep my voice soft and low, like I’m talking to a wild horse. “And I bet I know what he said to keep your mouth shut, but if you help us now, we can help you. That’s why we’re here. To put an end to his reign. His and Peran’s. We have all the evidence right here.”
Willow reaches into his tunic and pulls out a whole sheaf of papers. Letters. This is the first time I’ve seen them, and there are so many. A whole story, told from beginning to end.
“It’s all here,” says Willow. “Lord Peran has been in communication with Adan in a plot to overthrow the queen and take control of Helston.”
A single flicker of hesitation crosses Peter’s face, and I hold my breath, hoping and hoping and—
Peter turns to the pages, their eyes huge and nervous. “You see the lengths Dumoor will go to try to trick us? This is what we’re up against. Do not be fooled!”
Disappointment finally snaps the last thread of my patience. I storm right up to Peter and grab him, jerking him round to face me, our noses nearly touching. “You already have been fooled if you think Adan is on your side! You were there. You saw him murder Jory! What did he tell everyone when you got back, hmm? That it was Dumoor? Did he recycle the same lie he and Peran concocted when they murdered Prince Jowan? You are the liar, Peter. You are the fool.”
“Step aside.”
Pages scatter like mice beneath Queen Ewella’s booming command. Even Peter falls back, bowing quickly. “Your Majesty.”
She doesn’t even acknowledge him, every bit of her focused on Willow, her eyes blown wide, mouth open in shock, in horror like he’s some kind of apparition.
Willow takes one cautious step forward. “Mother—”
And she takes two back. “How dare you?” Ewella whispers. “How dare you come here, wearing his likeness?”
Willow flinches. “I—I don’t understand—”
“You think I do not know my own son?” The queen’s fury makes everyone in the vicinity cower. “Have I not lost enough? Have I not been tortured beyond anyone’s limits?” She snaps her fingers, lighting a dark flame on the tip. “Show me your real face,” Ewella commands. “You will die in your own body. Not my son’s.”
“Stop!” I shove between Willow and his mother, arms outstretched like that could do anything to protect him from the full extent of her magic. “It’s not an illusion. Please! You’ve got to listen! He’s real. We’re both real. We’re not the ones lying to you. We came to give you the truth; we just need you to listen! Just for five minutes!”
Something sharp, like a handful of claws, grabs my face and throws me to the ground.
I don’t stay down.
I won’t stay down.
Every bit of me hurts and I’m bleeding, but I can’t tell where the blood is coming from.
The world tips around me, but I find my balance and keep it. “Where is Sir Nick?” I demand, spitting blood. “Where is my dad?”
Ewella isn’t even looking at me. “Take them away,” she orders. “Secure them sufficiently. I will deal with them myself when our kingdom is not under imminent attack. Ensure that Nick doesn’t see them. He has suffered enough.”
“And the dragon?”
“Chain it up belowground.”
“No!” Just the word “it” sends me writhing, desperate to get to Teo, to protect xem from people who can’t even see xem as a person.
It’s no good.
The more I fight, the harder they hold on to me, gloved fingers squeezing my arms until I’m scared they’ll snap.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Adan murmurs. His gaze roves over me and his eyes glitter with satisfaction at my uselessness. “Take the boy,” he orders Peter, who moves at once to obey. “I have a feeling the girl might be too much for you to handle.”
“I’m not a girl! Leave Teo alone! Don’t touch me! Papa! It’s me! I’m here! Papa!” I scream for him as Adan locks my arms behind me, a knee in my spine forcing me forward through the sea of staring pages. They shrink away, faces filled with fear and confusion. I know where we’re going. I know where they’re taking us. It was all for nothing. Everything we did. As close as we got. Everything we gave up.
We’re all the way back to the beginning, and none of it mattered.
“Ewella, what is going on?”
My head jerks up. I know that voice.
“Don’t, Nick. It will only hurt you. Just another of Alis’s cruel tricks.”
Nick?
Papa.
I search for him. For Papa. But there are too many people between us and I can’t see anything.
“Papa!”
He answers immediately. “Callie?”
“It isn’t them, Nick—”
But he ignores her, pushing through the crowd.
I squirm in Adan’s grip, desperate to get free and reach my dad. “Papa!”
The moment we see each other, I burst into tears.
“Let them go,” Papa snarls at Adan. “Now.”
Adan’s fingers dig into my arms. “You are not my commander.”
“Let them go or you’ll feel my sword through your neck.”
“You really want to play this game again?” Adan asks softly. “After you lost the last round so badly? You’re out of playable pieces, Nick.”
One moment of distraction is all I need.
I kick back, driving my booted foot right into Adan’s crotch, and I send a little wish into the air that somehow Edwyn will know I kept my promise.
Adan buckles with a curse, swiping for me.
I run for Papa and he catches me.
“I can’t believe it’s you. I was sure we had lost you,” he mumbles into my hair. “They told us you fell, and when they brought back Satin—Callie, if I’d known you were alive, I would’ve come after you. I wanted to. We tried to.” His hands roam my face like he can’t trust his eyes. “Where were you? What happened? How did you survive Dumoor?”
“Dumoor saved us.” My throat hurts, but I raise my voice, making sure everyone close can hear me. “They took us in. They healed us. They’re not what everyone thinks, Papa. Everything has been turned around wrong. That’s why we’re here. To tell you the truth. To tell you who’s really—”
“Enough!” Adan shouts. “We will not allow this performance to continue any longer! Your Majesty, the council has been trying to convince you of Sir Nicholas’s questionable loyalties ever since he brought the witch’s servant into Helston. Is this not evidence that he is working for the enemy? The children fell. I witnessed it with my own eyes. This is a trick, and Nicholas is part of it.”
Papa stares at Adan in true confusion. Maybe they were never friends, but Papa has always believed they were at least on the same side. “What are you talking about?”
Adan jabs a finger at us, his face lit with glee. “Admit it! You have been working with Dumoor this whole time. You and that dragon! You should’ve been locked away with it and left to rot!”
I flinch at “dragon.” It’s been so long since I’ve heard it spat out in that tone, like it’s an insult, a slur; like it’s the worst thing you could call someone.
As though dragons aren’t just another kind of person.
But that’s not how Adan thinks. That’s not how anyone in Helston thinks. When they say “dragon,” they don’t mean Teo, who would do anything for anyone. They don’t even mean Kensa, bound tight by xir own loyalty. They mean “monster.” Traitor. Enemy.
And they’re wrong.
I face Adan with my own fire blazing, Papa’s hands a solid reassurance on my shoulders. “You can say what you like, you can call Neal all the names in the world, but the real traitor is you. And we have the proof. Right here. Your Majesty.” I turn desperately to Queen Ewella, hoping and hoping she isn’t completely beyond reach. “Your Majesty, please, hear us out. I know it’s hard when you’ve been lied to for so long to believe anything else, but that’s why me and Willow came as soon as we could. As soon as we found out.” I wave Willow over, and he hesitantly leaves Papa’s side. “We brought everything we could,” I continue as Willow pulls the papers from his tunic. “Peran’s at Dumoor. Working with Alis. And he’s been talking to him.” I jab a finger at Adan. “And they’ve been planning it all together, just like before when they…” But Jowan’s name catches in my throat and I can’t. Not without crying. And, no matter the reason, crying is always seen as weakness.
And Willow falls.
Our fingers just miss each other.
“Catch him!” I scream at Teo, and the dragon dives.
The air is so sharp, I can’t see. I grope for Willow, wishing and wishing and promising not to wish for anything else so long as I live. My hand finds his wrist. His hand finds mine. And we’re still falling. The three of us hurtling down and about to crash but at least we’re together and—
Teo’s wings catch a current and it is just enough to slow us down before the ground comes up to meet us.
A giggle bubbles in my throat, and once it bursts, I can’t stop. The grass is itchy beneath me, and my body hurts so bad something’s got to be broken. But we made it.
We made it.
Except we didn’t.
“Run!” Willow drags me up by both arms. “We have to go!”
“Get on my back,” says Teo. “I can get you to Helston.”
“You can’t carry us—”
“I can. I will,” says the dragon fiercely. “I won’t let you down.”
Teo is about the same size as Flo—minuscule compared to Kensa’s monstrous form. Willow and I could just about fit on xir back, but Teo’s wings…
“Kensa said if you push yourself too hard too soon, you won’t develop right.”
“I don’t care,” says Teo, yellow eyes blazing. “If this is the only thing I ever do, I want to do it. Get on my back.”
What choice do we have?
Willow and I share a last anxious look, and we mount the dragon.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
I squeak the moment Teo moves. Xe might be the size of my horse, but xir anatomy is completely different. Willow and I are squished between Teo’s neck and xir wing joints, trying not to get impaled on one of the many sharp spikes jutting along Teo’s spine.
Dragons were definitely not designed for riding.
Each step Teo takes rocks us nearly out of our seats. Willow clings to my middle and I cling to Teo. If we make it halfway to Helston in one piece, it’ll be nothing short of a miracle.
And that doesn’t even account for flying.
Teo spreads xir wings wide, gait speeding up, into a gallop that rocks us violently.
I’m 99 percent sure we’re going to die.
“Hold on!” Teo calls back, like we weren’t already hanging on for dear life, and then xe leaps.
I scream, locking my eyes so tightly shut I don’t think they’re ever gonna open again.
My stomach feels weird and the air is freezing my scalp, and I know we’re climbing higher and higher but I don’t dare look.
And then we stop. At least, it feels like we stop.
I crack one eye open a fraction of a millimeter and gasp.
Okay, so that’s pretty cool.
Wind ripples around us as we soar above Wyndebrel, between birds below and clouds above. There’s no more jarring motion about to pitch us off, just smooth, flawless flight.
I open my other eye and risk a look down.
I can see everything.
The great, dark expanse of Dumoor Forest; the miles and miles of moorland. Glittering sea to the north, south, and west. And right on the farthest tip of Wyndebrel, Helston.
From up here, it doesn’t look so far away. Like I could just reach across and touch it. It’s weird to think there are only a few miles between Dumoor and Helston. It feels like leagues.
“I wish we could stay up here forever.” I don’t realize I’m speaking out loud until Willow hums in agreement.
“I wish we didn’t have to land.”
“I wish we could turn around and fly all the way in the opposite direction.”
“We could.” Teo’s long neck twists back so that xe can catch my eye. “If you wanted to.”
I suck my lip. It’s painfully tempting, made worse by how easy it would be.
As the grown-ups keep telling us, this is not our fight. They don’t want us involved. It’s not our responsibility.
But, as we keep telling them, that’s not true.
This is our world and our lives, and we are the only ones who are willing to do what must be done to set things right.
“No,” I say. “Keep going.”
Even though Helston doesn’t look far away from up here, progress is slow.
“I can’t go faster,” says Teo when xe senses my anxiety. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” This is still way faster than if we were on foot. “When we get to Helston, we’re going straight to Papa,” I tell Willow, making the most of the time we have to strategize. “If we land on the beach, maybe no one’ll notice us.”
“What about the wards?”
“The wards?” I curse viciously. I’d forgotten about the wards. “They alert the watch, right? Is that it?” If we have to battle a few soldiers, so be it.
“The wards were erected to keep magic out,” Willow explains. “The more someone has, the bigger the consequence. I—I’m not sure exactly what that entails. Dumoor’s never tried to infiltrate directly, as far as I know.”
“Teo got through before, though. When they first brought xem in.”
“Mother lowered the wards to let them through.”
Of course she did.
I lean down across Teo’s neck. “If you land on the hill beyond the bridge, we can walk the rest of the way.”
“Nope,” says Teo, coasting left to dip below a flock of confused gulls. “Even if I were willing to leave you—which I’m not—look at the bridge.”
Willow and I peer down through the haze of clouds.
Helston’s once-proud bridge stretches over the gulf, held up by an elaborate framework of scaffolding. A huge chunk is still missing from the middle.
“They haven’t finished fixing it yet,” Willow breathes.
I can’t take my eyes off the skeletal structure. “You make it sound like that’s a good thing.”
“It is,” he insists. “The army cannot move out until the bridge is fixed. That means we still have time to stop them.”
He’s right.
We still have time.
There is still hope.
Teo soars around Helston, searching for the right place to make first contact. There’s no good place, not when they’ll know we’re there the moment Teo’s wing tip touches the wards. We have to just go and deal with whatever consequence occurs.
The scariest part is always not knowing.
On the ground, Helston is readying itself for war.
The palace grounds are packed with horses and people moving as busily as ants. And they’re all looking up at us.
Suddenly, landing doesn’t feel like such an attractive idea.
Then Willow points and yells. “I see them, Callie! Mother and Sir Nick!”
I follow his finger, scanning the faces coming into focus the closer we get. And I see them too, distant but distinct figures far below us.
My heart leaps.
“Get ready,” says Teo, angling down.
Willow holds on to me and I hold on to Teo, and the three of us brace for impact.
Far below, our shadow is huge, and it isn’t long before Helston starts to notice and panic. Tiny figures run and scatter. Others point to the sky. I can hear the distant shout of command, ordering men to their positions, ready to defend against the enemy.
I wonder if they know it’s us.
I wonder if it would make a difference if they did.
Close up, Queen Ewella’s wards shimmer like the surface of the sea on a summer’s day.
Before, passing through the wards was like being doused in cold water.
This time, it’s like smashing through glass.
Teo cries out in pain, and our smooth flight cracks and stutters. Xe fights desperately to get more height, flapping and writhing like a wounded snake, all the while trying to keep me and Willow on xir back.
The bells start to toll before the ground comes up to meet us.
It comes hard and painful. I skid, gravel ripping into my chin and my hands. I groan. But I don’t have time to lie there and catch my breath or take count of my injuries.
Orders are thrown through the air and the whole force of Helston bears down on us. I find Willow and Teo. Willow’s face is bleeding, his cheek one huge gash of blood and dirt, but he’s on his feet too, with magic ready and blazing in torn hands.
Teo, on the other hand, is in a bad state.
Xe lies on the ground, wings limp around xem. Red blood stands out stark against xir beautiful blue-green scales. Xir eyes are wide and wild.
I move to help, to comfort, to do anything, but a barked order—“Don’t move”—freezes me.
We’re surrounded on all sides, but not by knights and soldiers.
By kids.
Pages I trained with, done up in full battle gear, and younger ones I don’t recognize, who must’ve started their training after we left. Ten years old. Eleven at most.
They hold their swords in unpracticed hands, their ferocity a fragile front.
Is this really how Helston plans to win?
Willow stands up tall and stares down the length of the sword pointed right between his eyes. “We didn’t come here to fight. I am the Crown Prince Willow, and I demand to see my mother, the queen. You will put down your weapons and you will allow us to help our friend.”
The sword’s owner—an older boy with straw-blond hair and a pale, spotty face—falters. “Prince Willow…Prince Willow is dead.”
“Do I look dead?” Willow snaps. “Take me to Her Majesty at once. I have time-sensitive documents she needs to see.”
For a single sweet moment, I believe it’s enough.
A murmur rumbles through the pages, and the swords and arrows aimed at us start to drop.
“They’re lying!” Peter snarls, barging his way through the crowd and scattering kids like pins. “Prince Willow fell in Dumoor Forest. I saw it with my own eyes!” He glares at me. “Callie too. Whoever these infiltrators are, they’re wearing their skin to trick us! Don’t be fooled!”
I stare at Peter.
He looks awful, like he hasn’t slept since that night in the forest. He looks like Edwyn at his worst, and it’s impossible not to feel horribly sorry for him.
“I know that’s what Adan told you to say.” I keep my voice soft and low, like I’m talking to a wild horse. “And I bet I know what he said to keep your mouth shut, but if you help us now, we can help you. That’s why we’re here. To put an end to his reign. His and Peran’s. We have all the evidence right here.”
Willow reaches into his tunic and pulls out a whole sheaf of papers. Letters. This is the first time I’ve seen them, and there are so many. A whole story, told from beginning to end.
“It’s all here,” says Willow. “Lord Peran has been in communication with Adan in a plot to overthrow the queen and take control of Helston.”
A single flicker of hesitation crosses Peter’s face, and I hold my breath, hoping and hoping and—
Peter turns to the pages, their eyes huge and nervous. “You see the lengths Dumoor will go to try to trick us? This is what we’re up against. Do not be fooled!”
Disappointment finally snaps the last thread of my patience. I storm right up to Peter and grab him, jerking him round to face me, our noses nearly touching. “You already have been fooled if you think Adan is on your side! You were there. You saw him murder Jory! What did he tell everyone when you got back, hmm? That it was Dumoor? Did he recycle the same lie he and Peran concocted when they murdered Prince Jowan? You are the liar, Peter. You are the fool.”
“Step aside.”
Pages scatter like mice beneath Queen Ewella’s booming command. Even Peter falls back, bowing quickly. “Your Majesty.”
She doesn’t even acknowledge him, every bit of her focused on Willow, her eyes blown wide, mouth open in shock, in horror like he’s some kind of apparition.
Willow takes one cautious step forward. “Mother—”
And she takes two back. “How dare you?” Ewella whispers. “How dare you come here, wearing his likeness?”
Willow flinches. “I—I don’t understand—”
“You think I do not know my own son?” The queen’s fury makes everyone in the vicinity cower. “Have I not lost enough? Have I not been tortured beyond anyone’s limits?” She snaps her fingers, lighting a dark flame on the tip. “Show me your real face,” Ewella commands. “You will die in your own body. Not my son’s.”
“Stop!” I shove between Willow and his mother, arms outstretched like that could do anything to protect him from the full extent of her magic. “It’s not an illusion. Please! You’ve got to listen! He’s real. We’re both real. We’re not the ones lying to you. We came to give you the truth; we just need you to listen! Just for five minutes!”
Something sharp, like a handful of claws, grabs my face and throws me to the ground.
I don’t stay down.
I won’t stay down.
Every bit of me hurts and I’m bleeding, but I can’t tell where the blood is coming from.
The world tips around me, but I find my balance and keep it. “Where is Sir Nick?” I demand, spitting blood. “Where is my dad?”
Ewella isn’t even looking at me. “Take them away,” she orders. “Secure them sufficiently. I will deal with them myself when our kingdom is not under imminent attack. Ensure that Nick doesn’t see them. He has suffered enough.”
“And the dragon?”
“Chain it up belowground.”
“No!” Just the word “it” sends me writhing, desperate to get to Teo, to protect xem from people who can’t even see xem as a person.
It’s no good.
The more I fight, the harder they hold on to me, gloved fingers squeezing my arms until I’m scared they’ll snap.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Adan murmurs. His gaze roves over me and his eyes glitter with satisfaction at my uselessness. “Take the boy,” he orders Peter, who moves at once to obey. “I have a feeling the girl might be too much for you to handle.”
“I’m not a girl! Leave Teo alone! Don’t touch me! Papa! It’s me! I’m here! Papa!” I scream for him as Adan locks my arms behind me, a knee in my spine forcing me forward through the sea of staring pages. They shrink away, faces filled with fear and confusion. I know where we’re going. I know where they’re taking us. It was all for nothing. Everything we did. As close as we got. Everything we gave up.
We’re all the way back to the beginning, and none of it mattered.
“Ewella, what is going on?”
My head jerks up. I know that voice.
“Don’t, Nick. It will only hurt you. Just another of Alis’s cruel tricks.”
Nick?
Papa.
I search for him. For Papa. But there are too many people between us and I can’t see anything.
“Papa!”
He answers immediately. “Callie?”
“It isn’t them, Nick—”
But he ignores her, pushing through the crowd.
I squirm in Adan’s grip, desperate to get free and reach my dad. “Papa!”
The moment we see each other, I burst into tears.
“Let them go,” Papa snarls at Adan. “Now.”
Adan’s fingers dig into my arms. “You are not my commander.”
“Let them go or you’ll feel my sword through your neck.”
“You really want to play this game again?” Adan asks softly. “After you lost the last round so badly? You’re out of playable pieces, Nick.”
One moment of distraction is all I need.
I kick back, driving my booted foot right into Adan’s crotch, and I send a little wish into the air that somehow Edwyn will know I kept my promise.
Adan buckles with a curse, swiping for me.
I run for Papa and he catches me.
“I can’t believe it’s you. I was sure we had lost you,” he mumbles into my hair. “They told us you fell, and when they brought back Satin—Callie, if I’d known you were alive, I would’ve come after you. I wanted to. We tried to.” His hands roam my face like he can’t trust his eyes. “Where were you? What happened? How did you survive Dumoor?”
“Dumoor saved us.” My throat hurts, but I raise my voice, making sure everyone close can hear me. “They took us in. They healed us. They’re not what everyone thinks, Papa. Everything has been turned around wrong. That’s why we’re here. To tell you the truth. To tell you who’s really—”
“Enough!” Adan shouts. “We will not allow this performance to continue any longer! Your Majesty, the council has been trying to convince you of Sir Nicholas’s questionable loyalties ever since he brought the witch’s servant into Helston. Is this not evidence that he is working for the enemy? The children fell. I witnessed it with my own eyes. This is a trick, and Nicholas is part of it.”
Papa stares at Adan in true confusion. Maybe they were never friends, but Papa has always believed they were at least on the same side. “What are you talking about?”
Adan jabs a finger at us, his face lit with glee. “Admit it! You have been working with Dumoor this whole time. You and that dragon! You should’ve been locked away with it and left to rot!”
I flinch at “dragon.” It’s been so long since I’ve heard it spat out in that tone, like it’s an insult, a slur; like it’s the worst thing you could call someone.
As though dragons aren’t just another kind of person.
But that’s not how Adan thinks. That’s not how anyone in Helston thinks. When they say “dragon,” they don’t mean Teo, who would do anything for anyone. They don’t even mean Kensa, bound tight by xir own loyalty. They mean “monster.” Traitor. Enemy.
And they’re wrong.
I face Adan with my own fire blazing, Papa’s hands a solid reassurance on my shoulders. “You can say what you like, you can call Neal all the names in the world, but the real traitor is you. And we have the proof. Right here. Your Majesty.” I turn desperately to Queen Ewella, hoping and hoping she isn’t completely beyond reach. “Your Majesty, please, hear us out. I know it’s hard when you’ve been lied to for so long to believe anything else, but that’s why me and Willow came as soon as we could. As soon as we found out.” I wave Willow over, and he hesitantly leaves Papa’s side. “We brought everything we could,” I continue as Willow pulls the papers from his tunic. “Peran’s at Dumoor. Working with Alis. And he’s been talking to him.” I jab a finger at Adan. “And they’ve been planning it all together, just like before when they…” But Jowan’s name catches in my throat and I can’t. Not without crying. And, no matter the reason, crying is always seen as weakness.
