Beyond the Four Kingdoms Box Set 1: Three Fairytale Retellings (Four Kingdoms and Beyond Box Sets Book 3)

by Melanie Cellier

  “Fire,” Sophie breathed as we peered down into the city.

  The bright flames stood out against the dark sky, illuminating a small crowd already gathered at the distant scene.

  “The flames are so high already,” I murmured, mesmerized by the dancing red, yellow and orange. I couldn’t drag my eyes away from the terrible sight.

  “You girls stay here, we’re going down to see if we can help.” The baron’s voice pulled me out of my daze, and I turned to find him pulling on a jacket.

  “Absolutely not.” Sophie spoke for both of us. “We’re coming too.”

  The baron eyed us and seemed to know an argument would be fruitless. “Very well then. Be quick.”

  We flew back to our room, exchanging nightgowns for our most practical dresses and boots. Within minutes all four of us had joined the stream of people flowing from the palace toward the fire.

  More alarm bells had picked up the call, and people poured in from all directions. I feared there were far too many of us to be of any help but, to my surprise, the crowd moved without chaos. I faltered and slowed as we reached the fire, overwhelmed by the heat and sound and the scope of the ordered activity around me.

  Ash and smoke swirled through the air, and the fire roared hungrily. A large group of guards barked orders and organized the volunteers, with force if needed. They had already formed two long bucket lines between the nearest fountain square and two hand pumps located in front of the burning building. The volunteers at the end of the line dumped water into the wells of the pumps while more volunteers operated the pumps themselves, swapping out when anyone became too tired to pump at full speed. Guards directed the hard jets of water onto the flames.

  Two men had arrived just in front of us, pulling a small wagon full of more buckets, so some of the guards began organizing a third bucket line. Young children raced along each of the lines, carrying empty buckets back to the fountains.

  The windows of all the houses on the street blazed with lanterns and candles, fighting against the night and the smoke in their attempt to illuminate the efforts. A team of guards went from house to house away from the fire, clearing out the inhabitants before leaving one of their number to guard each front door. Whether they remained to prevent the occupants from returning for one last treasured item, or to guard from looters, I wasn’t sure.

  The central burning building appeared to be a large warehouse, but houses flanked it on either side, and the roofs of the two closest were already aflame. The buckets from the newly formed bucket line were soon used to douse all the closest houses, in an attempt to prevent any more from catching fire.

  Clearly the people of Marin knew exactly what to do when it came to fighting fires. I felt out of place in the frantic scene, confused by the noise and the smell and the heat that assaulted my senses. I looked around trying to spot somewhere I could be of help. I had been unable to think of any other way to help Jon’s duchy, but surely I could be of some assistance here.

  One of the men at the pump staggered away, rubbing his arms, and the third man from the front of the nearest bucket line raced forward to take his place. Seeing an opportunity, I ran to take his position in the line, a bucket immediately thrust into my hands by the person behind me. I passed bucket after bucket along, coughing from the smoke, until a local dipped a scarf into one of the buckets and handed it to me, gesturing for me to wrap it over my nose and mouth. I tied it on as quickly as I could, already holding up the progress of the buckets.

  A group of three guards strode past, their eyes on the fire that had taken hold of one of the neighboring houses. With a start, I realized that one of them wasn’t a guard at all. It was Jon. Someone thrust a bucket into my hands, and I passed it on blindly, my eyes stuck on Jon’s tall figure.

  He looked strong and confident as he directed the guards at one of the pumps to abandon the main blaze in favor of dousing the smaller, neighboring fire. Just as the guards began to move the pump, the loud shatter of breaking glass and a piercing scream broke through the rush and crackle of the fire and the shouts of the guards and volunteers.

  For a brief second everyone froze, and then further furor broke out. I followed the sound and the many pointing fingers to see a young woman, half hanging from one of the top windows in the burning house, a baby clutched in one arm, and a young child hanging off her other hip.

  Oh no. Sophie’s quiet projection cut through the noise, when not even her shout could have done so. She had joined the third line, and I could barely see her.

  I didn’t even try to respond, my mind too full of the scene unfolding before me. Because Jon, upon hearing the scream, had run forward and, as I watched, disappeared into the burning building.

  Chapter 24

  My feet moved of their own accord, as if to follow him, but a bucket thrust into my hands made me stop. I could do more good here than standing uselessly in front of a burning building. I passed the bucket on, my arms burning by this point from the heavy water, and reached back for the next one.

  In my head I counted the seconds, my eyes glued on the woman who still hung out of the window. The two guards who had been with Jon called instructions up to her, while several more ran forward carrying a large sheet which they placed on the ground beneath the house.

  How could they stand the heat? I stood further back and could barely cope despite being dressed much more lightly than the guards in their heavy leather jackets. None of them faltered, however, and I took strength from their confidence.

  The seconds ticked by, and still Jon did not appear. A prickling sensation crawled through my body, my fear mounting. Surely there had been enough time for him to reach the woman by now. I pictured him consumed by flames, and had to wrench my mind from the image before I was sick.

  Another bucket came and went through my hands. And another.

  Jon, where are you? my mind screamed.

  What do you mean? Sophie’s sharp question shocked me. I hadn’t realized I had projected the thought.

  He’s here. He went into that building after the woman and children.

  What? Sophie sounded appropriately horrified.

  A shout went up from the men at the base of the building at the same moment as the woman pulled back, away from the window. What had happened? Had Jon reached her?

  A second later, his head thrust out of the window, and he called down to the guards. Four of them each picked up a corner of the sheet, raising it well above the ground and stretching it tight.

  They planned to catch the trapped people. Sophie! Do you see?

  Can they do that?

  I didn’t answer, caught up in the unfolding drama, my hands mechanically passing along the buckets shoved into them. Jon pulled back into the house and reappeared with the young child in his arms.

  One of the guards called something up to him, and I gasped as he let the child drop. I held my breath as the screaming girl plummeted down, landed on the sheet and bounced back into the air. The guards moved in coordination, keeping the sheet steady and at the right tension to catch the child again. I didn’t breathe until she had rolled off and landed on all fours, crying hard. A woman from the crowd rushed forward and scooped her up, pulling her away from the fire.

  My eyes flew back to the window. I could just see Jon and the woman, both trying to breathe the cleaner air outside. I couldn’t hear anything from them, of course, but the woman looked angry or, possibly, hysterical. After a moment, I realized that Jon had taken the baby and was gesturing for the woman to jump out of the window and onto the sheet. She kept shaking her head and trying to grab the baby back from him.

  I wanted to scream at her to stop fighting and hurry up. Every moment that passed saw the fire consume more of the building.

  More buckets passed through my hands.

  Finally, Jon pushed the woman away from him and bent down. When he straightened he no longer held the baby. Picking up the now screaming woman, he threw her bodily out the window. She fell into the sheet, like t
he child had done earlier, but this time my eyes remained on the window.

  Jon bent down again and reappeared with a large bulge in the front of his jacket. Did he intend to jump as well?

  But he didn’t even stop to check if the woman had survived the fall. Taking a deep breath at the window, he turned and disappeared.

  He’s gone back inside. I couldn’t quite believe my own words.

  He doesn’t think the baby will survive the fall. That must be it, Sophie whispered back at me.

  The woman had rolled from the sheet, unharmed it seemed, and was now being restrained by two guards as she fought to rush back into the building.

  I was reduced to counting again, my hands still passing the buckets, but my mind wholly focused on the numbers that kept rising in my head. How long could he survive in there? Had his passage been blocked by the flames?

  A physical pain burst through my chest. I loved him. This prince who put even the smallest of his people before himself. The realization made my head spin. I could not bear for Jon to die. It took every bit of my willpower to stop myself running into the building after him.

  And then a cheer roared from the crowd as he burst through the doorway, coughing but still on his feet, his shoulders and arms curled protectively around the front of his jacket. The woman and several guards rushed forward, blocking my view.

  For a second I could see nothing, but I heard the woman’s screams. I didn’t know how she had any breath left for such a sound with all this smoke.

  “He isn’t breathing. The baby isn’t breathing.” The words passed through the crowd, yelled from person to person.

  I waited for the guards to do something, but for once they seemed lost, milling around without purpose. The crowd cleared enough for me to see Jon, sitting on the ground, his head in his hands.

  Lily! Sophie screamed in my mind. Do something!

  I dropped the bucket I was holding and ran toward him. A guard grabbed me around the waist and I fought, kicking backwards and screaming Jon’s name. He looked up and saw me, leaping to his feet and staggering in my direction.

  He tried to order the guard to release me, but only succeeded in bringing on a coughing fit. The guard saw his gestures, though, and let me go. I ran to the weeping woman, who was cradling her baby.

  I grabbed the arm of the closest guard and yelled for him to take the infant. The woman struggled blindly, but another guard held her back, shouting to her to give us space and let us help him. I placed one hand on the infant’s head and one on his tiny chest. I could feel a few flutters from the soft spot on his skull, but no rise and fall of his breath.

  “There’s still a chance,” I said, as loudly as I could. “We need to get him away from the smoke.” I glanced back at Jon. “And him too!” I made eye contact with two other guards. “Drag him away, if you have to.” The older one nodded at me, a determined expression on his face.

  I looked back at the guard holding the baby. “Give him to me, and then run ahead of us. We need to get to the palace quickly, and I don’t know the way well enough.”

  The guard hesitated for the briefest moment and then shoved the limp bundle into my arms. I cradled him in one arm, as several more guards appeared and formed a circle around me, clearing my path on all sides. We ran through the streets as I pressed hard repetitively with the fingers of my hand against the infant’s chest. After a moment, I paused and lowered my head to cover his nose and mouth with my own mouth, exhaling a breath into his tiny lungs.

  Step by step and breath by breath we moved away from the heat and the smoke. Until, finally, I raised my head to breathe and found myself gasping in clear air. We had reached the courtyard of the palace.

  I lay the infant down on the ground. “Fetch a doctor,” I panted, my focus on the baby, my fingers still pressing against his chest. I swayed, dizzy, and a hand grabbed my elbow to steady me.

  “Whoa, careful there, Your Highness.” I looked into a vaguely familiar face. “What was that you were just doing? With the baby?”

  “Breathing for him. And compressions to get his heartrate up.”

  The man seemed to understand, thrusting me aside to take my place kneeling beside the baby. I finally placed him—one of the doctors who had assisted with Celine’s ankle and Opal’s cut.

  I sank down onto the ground and put my head between my knees, still gasping in beautiful, fresh, clean air.

  After several more breaths, my dizziness cleared, and I looked around for Jon. He sat on the palace steps. Two more doctors and a nurse surrounded him, but his eyes were fixed on me. I managed a weak smile, and a look passed over his face too intense to describe.

  A sudden cheer went up from the small crowd around the infant boy. “He’s breathing!” someone called out, and I heard the message passing back into the city. “He’s alive! The baby’s alive!”

  My eyes were still locked on Jon’s, so I saw the wonder that crossed his face at the news. He staggered to his feet, pushing the protesting doctors aside, and strode over to me. Crouching, he took my face in his hands.

  “You saved that child,” he whispered. “I was trying to save him, but I accidentally killed him instead. He was breathing at the window, but I wanted to protect him from the smoke, so I tucked him into my jacket. When I got out of the house and pulled him out, I found I’d prevented the smoke from reaching him, but no air had got through either. But you saved him.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “We both did. He wouldn’t have been so easy to revive from smoke inhalation.” I leaned my head into his hands. His grip, strong but gentle, steadied me after the fear and shock.

  “Lily…” The wonder hadn’t left his eyes. “I…”

  I desperately wanted to hear whatever he was going to say, this man who I loved. The word pulsed through my veins with each heartbeat. Love. Love. Love. Jon. Jon. Jon. But a sudden commotion at the palace gates distracted him.

  He looked up, over my shoulder, and a moment later new arms encircled me.

  “You did it! You did it!” Sophie cried into my hair.

  I could hear more joyful sobbing close by and saw that the mother had arrived with Sophie, her older child in tow. The baron and baroness were close behind.

  After that more chaos descended with doctors and nurses swarming us all. Jon and I were pulled apart and lost each other in the confusion of examinations and explanations that followed. I wanted to call out after him, to protest, but I knew I had no right to do so. My feelings had changed but the facts had not. Jon did not belong to me, or I to him. And we never would.

  When I woke up the next morning, it was to a riot of color. Red and yellow and pink and white and purple and green filled our room.

  “What in the kingdoms?” I murmured, still too sleepy to make sense of what I was seeing.

  Sophie, who stood beside her bed, frowning down at it, looked up and grinned. “Good morning, sleepy head.”

  “Ugh.” I threw my pillow at her, and glanced out the window. “It can’t be that late.”

  “Maybe not.” She grinned and gestured around her. “But your many admirers are already up and about.”

  I sat up. Flowers blanketed the room, every color and size imaginable. “What do you mean, admirers?”

  “Apparently, they got the fire under control not long after we left, although it was only extinguished completely in the early hours of the morning. They didn’t lose any more houses, either. But the real topic of conversation in the city is you and Jon and that family you saved.”

  “I did not save a whole family.” I swung my legs out of bed. “Wait. Jon! The baby!”

  “Relax. They’re both fine. The family is still here at the palace; the doctors kept them under observation all night. They’ll be here for another couple of days, apparently, but they seem healthy given the circumstances.”

  I ran a hand over my face, trying to chase away the sleep. Memories from the night before came flooding back. I blushed, remembering the feel of Jon’s hands cupping my face.r />
  “Lily? What is it?”

  I opened my mouth to admit my nighttime revelation to her and stopped. I couldn’t tell her, not when I planned to win the Tourney. It would break her heart on my behalf. And one broken heart between us was quite enough.

  “I smell terrible,” I said instead.

  She grimaced. “Not as bad as these, I’m afraid.” She gestured toward whatever she had been staring at when I woke up.

  I walked over to join her, looking down at our two dresses from the night before.

  “Oh dear.” I turned my head away from the overpowering smell of smoke.

  “I don’t think they’re salvageable.” Sophie sounded resigned. “I’ll give them to one of the maids to burn.”

  “I think the job’s half done for them,” I muttered, wandering over to examine some of the flowers. “Are these really from the people in the city?”

  “Apparently. It looks like half the city raided their flower boxes for you. I wonder if Jon’s room looks like this, too?”

  I wanted to see him so desperately, I could feel the longing throbbing in my chest. I suppressed it. “You know I didn’t do anything particularly brave or heroic.”

  “It was heroic enough. There’s a note for you, by the way.” She pointed to a silver tray resting on our small table.

  I hurried over and opened it, hoping to see one particular name. And, sure enough, the note had been written by Jon.

  Lily —

  I need to talk to you. Come to the infirmary as soon as you have the chance.

  Jon

  I felt the ghostly pressure of his hands against my face and the echo of his words, broken off. What did he want to say to me? And, whatever it was, what could I possibly reply?

  “It’s Jon.” I met Sophie’s eyes. “He wants me to come to the infirmary. Do you want to come, too?”