“No. I … I don’t know what … I tried, but …”
“Speak up!” She stepped closer, her chin raised as if sniffing the air. “Fear. Cowardice. How is it I sense such weakness in you? Tell me, how can someone with abilities such as yours be so fearful?”
Rose had no response; she just lowered her head and averted her eyes. This was just who she was. She never imagined there was anything else to be.
“You may have managed to survive in your world, girl, but you won’t here,” the queen said. “In Eppersett, such insecurities will bring you to your fate soon enough. One way or another.”
Coram, his eyes on the floor, cleared his throat and said, “She’s the one, Your Highness. The Unwonted. There is no doubt. But she refuses to cooperate. That is why we sought you out. We know your time is precious and that these days have been most difficult for you, but we hoped you would know what to do. We hoped you would be able to convince her.”
The queen was silent for a moment. “The sacrifice of sacrifices. The one whose death will end it all. And yet she refuses?”
After another silence, this one much longer, Queen Sequoia turned back to her guards and waved her arms. “Clear out! Now! Leave me with my guests.”
Everyone dispersed—practically running over one another to get out of the hall—and the queen snapped her long fingers, creating a loud pop that stuck in the ears. A chair was immediately brought out from a side room by two piggish servants and placed before her. She took a seat, her dress running like rain against her legs, her posture stiff and perfect.
No one knew what to do or how to behave. There were a lot of nervous looks and this made Rose even more frightened.
“This time is different than the others,” Queen Sequoia said. “The Abomination has grown too powerful too quickly. It will no longer rest, not even with a hundred sacrifices. There will be no slowing it down, no time to rebuild what has been destroyed. It dies, or we die.”
“Your Highness,” Deedubs said. “Forgive me, but how can you know such a thing? This girl is a coward. Like them all. That’s why she came here. She will never be brave enough for the task. We must sacrifice her ourselves and hope for a future with a more heroic human.”
“You’re not forgiven, Deedubs,” Queen Sequoia snapped. “Don’t you dare ever question my knowledge!”
Rose was shocked to see the Cobberjack recoil in fear and shame. But there was no mistaking it; even if Rose wished to help, she would never have the strength to do so.
“He’s right,” Rose said. “I’m no fighter. I run. That’s what I do. I don’t want any of this. I just want to go home. Now.”
As she said these words, she was surprised at how true they were. Home had always been a place to flee—she was like her father in that way—but this world was no escape. It wasn’t freedom and it wasn’t safety. It was dangerous. Deadly. Back home she had a fighting chance, but here … it was hopeless.
“Home?” the queen shouted, rising from her chair. “Home? Girls like you have no home! Otherwise you’d never wind up here in the first place!”
Rose was overwhelmed with emotion, her eyes aching as much as her heart. “That’s not true! I have a home! I do!”
“Home is not merely where one lays her head, little Rose. A home is something you help create. A home is a place you fight for, a place—no matter the difficulties—you never abandon, because it is built on happiness, on love, on hope. And we are losing ours. But you … you can change that.”
Rose shook her head. “I’m not going to die for you. And I’m certainly not going to die for a world that isn’t my own.”
The queen slammed her hand against the chair. “Yes, you will!” Her voice rocked the castle, everyone bracing themselves. It took some moments before everything settled. “There is a glaring hole in the world you come from, Rose. And it is there because all humans are the same at the very core. The ugliness, the selfishness of each of you. So concerned with your own individual little problems that the world around you collapses and you hardly notice a thing. You are blind to the suffering of others. Blind and indifferent. The sky falls but only on you. Eppersett is different. Any one of us would gladly sacrifice ourselves to the Abomination if it meant its certain destruction. We would never stand by while millions die all around us. Not like you humans. Here, we stand together.”
Everyone turned and looked at Rose as she sunk down in the branches. She never asked for this. Any of it. She just wanted to get away. From SallyAnn, from school, from her parents, her brother, her struggles. From life. “I don’t know what you expect from me. I’m just a kid.”
“I expect you to die,” Queen Sequoia said. “I expect you to give yourself up for the greater good. Become the hero you were meant to be. You are a girl of rare magic, Rose. A weapon to rid us of the Abomination once and for all.”
Rose, chin quivering, shook her head. “I won’t do it.”
The queen took a step toward her, and every ounce of Rose’s body wanted to back away. It was telling her to climb higher in the branches or jump down and take off running, never looking back. But she didn’t. She held her ground.
Slowly, the queen neared, extending her hand. “Come. Walk with me.”
Rose hesitated, staring at the claw that seemed to extend and extend and extend toward her. It reached far up into the branches, until it was no more than a foot from her face.
“Come,” Queen Sequoia repeated, and the tone was soft, as if it were somehow in Rose’s head and in her head alone.
Gazing at the queen’s blank face, Rose was struck by a hazy memory. She couldn’t remember what exactly, just the feeling. Like she was a young child again and staring at her mother.
Rose reached out and took her hand, the long fingers wrapping around hers, not with force and pressure, but gently.
She was led down from Ridge’s branches, away from the group and up the main staircase. As she went, she glanced back at Coram and the others, her eyes wide and full of fear and confusion. Coram nodded at her, and she knew it was his way of saying she would be okay, though she hardly believed him.
Rose and the queen walked in silence. They were still holding hands, though Rose had tried to pull hers away several times. The queen only held it with the tips of her fingers, but the grip was powerful nonetheless.
Without turning toward her, Queen Sequoia asked, “What do you see, Rose? What do you see when you look at me?”
Rose felt her throat ice up. “Nothing.”
The queen nodded very subtly. “Interesting.”
They reached the top of the stairs, their bodies illuminated by dozens of massive candles lining the walls, the wax dripping down and across the floor creating a strange patchwork. Farther along, the queen pushed open a wooden door that creaked like an old tree in a storm. Inside was what must have been her chambers. It was an extravagant room, full of bizarre and interesting objects that glittered and shined, but Rose could only focus on the large four-poster bed in the center, and the figure lying upon it. Hundreds of dead flowers covered the body—roses, to be exact. They were all around the bed, on the floor, on the pillows, hanging in the snow-white canopy. A smell lingered in the air, a stale bitterness, like acid in the nose. It was enough to make Rose’s eyes water.
The queen made her way toward the bed, and Rose’s pace slowed as her heart plunged straight to her knees. The air had left the room the moment she entered, and she was now having trouble breathing. Her body tingled, not with magic, but with the absence of it. This had happened before. She had felt exactly like this some time ago, but in her terror, she couldn’t place it.
“Come,” Queen Sequoia said, glancing back at her. “You need to see this.”
No, you don’t, Rose thought. Whatever’s on that bed is the last thing you need to see. Just run. Get out of here and never come back.
But she didn’t run. As if in a trance, she was pulled forward. Or was the bed coming to her? Everything slowed down. She could hear her heart; she
could see the dust floating in the sunlit air. Something in the room chirped steadily, a sound that pounded deep within her ears.
Whoever was on the bed wasn’t moving, hadn’t since she first walked in.
Please don’t let him be dead, she thought. Please don’t.
When she had finally reached the bed—after what felt like an hour—the queen raised her hand and slowly moved aside the curtain, revealing the body within. Rose wanted to shut her eyes but it was as if they were stapled open. Peering in, she gazed upon the body, and a horrid scream barreled its way up her throat when she realized it was her brother. She spun away from the bed, stifling the scream with her hand, her eyes slamming closed as the tears built steadily behind them.
Breathe, Rose. Breathe. It’s not him. It can’t be.
“Look again,” said the queen.
One eye opened, then the other. When Rose finally glanced back, she didn’t see her brother anymore, just another blank face to match the queen’s.
“Tell me, Rose, what did you see when you looked upon him?” Queen Sequoia asked.
Rose was slow to respond; her entire body was still trembling. The color of her skin had yet to return. “My … my brother.”
The queen nodded as if she understood. “This is my son, the future king,” she said. “He is linked to this land, and when it suffers, he suffers. His life has never been a pleasant one, but ever since the Abomination’s latest return to Eppersett, he has suffered like never before. And now he sleeps and the Abomination will never rest again. Even if you were to succeed in its destruction, I’m not sure if my son will ever fully recover. It is my hope that he will, but that is all it is. A hope.”
There was an eerie silence, the queen’s blank face remaining locked on Rose’s for an agonizing length of time. “Sing to him,” Queen Sequoia said.
Rose’s hand lay across her heart as she backed away. “Sing? I … I don’t understand. Why?”
“Heal him. Please.” There was desperation in her voice. If she had eyes, Rose knew they would be filled with tears right now.
“I can’t. My voice isn’t enough.”
The queen turned away, nodding. “I know.” She moved over to a window and gazed out, all Eppersett laid out before her. “Tell me, why is it that you saw your brother?”
Rose was unaware she was clutching herself, the only hug she could find. She wished her mother was here; she needed her strength. “He’s sick too,” she said.
The queen turned back. “Will he not awaken either?”
Rose shook her head. “No.”
“Have you … have you given up hope?”
It was now Rose’s turn to cry. Her eyes watered and she stared at the floor, nodding. Her chin quivered as she tried to speak. “Y-yes.”
And once it began, once she admitted she had given up on her brother, it wouldn’t stop. She collapsed on the floor, weeping, and the queen came to her side. She bent down and rested her long fingers on Rose’s shoulders.
“I may be able to help him, Rose. We have things here—potions, remedies, magic—that you could never imagine. Things that are sure to wake your brother from his slumber.”
“You … you do?” Rose asked, wiping at her face.
“Yes. And if you were to help us, I would make sure our treatments reached him—magic crosses over, you know. I could do that for you. I could get it to him. A thank-you for your sacrifice.”
Rose’s heart smashed against her chest, and her mind flared open. In some magical future, she saw her mother standing over her brother’s bed, as she did every night. But this time he opened his eyes. This time he said, “Hello. I’ve missed you.” Rose wept just as she imagined her mother would. She wept at their embrace, at their long-awaited reunion. Her father’s guilt would be washed away. Their lives could start over. She wept at her family’s much-deserved happiness.
“But … but what if I can’t do it? What if I fail? I’m not strong like Coram and Meadowrue. I’ll never make it.”
Rose stared deep into the queen’s face now and, very slowly, an image began to form. A girl? A woman? Both? But as the features took shape across the wasteland of flesh, a loud noise erased them. The castle quaked beneath their feet, objects falling all around them, the walls crumbling, glass shattering. Outside there were screams.
The queen ran to the window, and Rose followed, twisted with dread. Gazing out, she could see there was something in the sky. Something long and white, like a plane’s contrail mixing with the clouds. It must have been over three hundred feet long. It writhed in the air, heading away from them. But to her horror, she watched as it slowly turned back, looking for a second strike. It was then that she realized it was a giant snake. It was so incredibly big it was as if one snake had eaten another and then another and another, until every snake in existence was devoured, creating some monstrous nightmare. Its head was the size of her home, and it had small wings just at the end of it, as well as near the tip of its tail. “Where did that come from?” Rose asked, though she already knew the answer.
The queen’s hand braced against the window. “It knows you are here, Rose. It knows what you are capable of. The Abomination has sent it to kill you.”
As Rose watched the snake make its way back toward them—slithering across the clouds, mouth opening and closing—the castle began to shake from the other side.
Rose’s head snapped in that direction, her eyes bulging. It sounded like a bomb. “What was that?”
Though her face was inscrutable, the queen’s voice was clearly stricken with the same intense dread. “There are two of them.” Flipping her gown so that the fabric snapped, she streaked across the room, throwing open her chamber door with barely a touch. When she spoke, her voice boomed throughout the castle, traveling down every staircase and hallway, across every ceiling and floor. “Battle stations! Every hand defends the castle this day!” she cried. “Alert Spectra! Have her awaken Ramsey this instant! Get this castle moving! Now! Head for the Hollow!”
Retreating back into her chambers, she paced the room, talking quickly to herself, hands gesticulating in a desperate search for answers. “We get to the Hollow and we might be safe. They can’t reach us there. But how far away is it? Twenty miles? Thirty?” She sat on the bed beside her son. Her head turned to him, and she reached out and grasped his hand. “I wish you were here,” she said. “I need your strength. I put on a brave front in your absence, but I am weakening. Please, return to me.”
The castle quaked again, and the queen jumped to her feet, the window filling with long-dormant dust shaken free from the beast. “We’re going to have to fight,” she said.
“But the Hollow … ?” Rose asked. She wasn’t sure what the Hollow was exactly, but it sounded like a much better option than taking on two giant flying snakes.
“I’m not sure we’ll make it there in one piece,” Queen Sequoia answered gravely. She sat back down on the bed, seemingly stunned into silence. As the castle was struck yet again, debris falling down into the room, she grabbed the future king’s hand once more.
Rose just stood there, unsure what to do. The queen had stopped moving. She didn’t talk, not to her son, herself, or Rose. It wasn’t even clear she knew Rose was still there. As the ceiling continued to rain down on them, the screams from outside had found their way into the room and it was as if they slapped Rose in the face, freeing her from her stupor. Without another word, she turned around and hurried downstairs and into the chaos.
Outside the tower, the castle swarmed with confusion, everyone running back and forth dodging slabs of falling stone, grabbing weapons, and hurrying for the parapets and turrets, children being escorted to the lower levels, howling with fear. Run. Now, Rose. No one would ever notice. And she knew it was true. She could escape the castle amidst all the confusion, ditch Coram and the others, and head for home, the threat of the Abomination left behind for good.
Go back to the woods. Go back to the place where they found you. There has to be a way ba
ck. Nodding to herself, she took three strides toward the gate, when she suddenly stopped, her feet practically sinking into the ground. The queen’s promise echoed through her head like an alarm. Her brother could be saved. He could be awakened and then her parents would be saved too. It would be the best thing Rose could ever do for them, and if she left now that would all disappear.
With a scream of deep frustration, she turned around and, fists clenched, walked deeper into the fray. People crashed into her from all sides, spinning her around several times over. She whimpered a bit and fell to the ground, her breathing intensifying as the chaos around her mounted.
“Are you okay? I was so worried,” Coram said, his face long with distress as he helped her to her feet. Rose, tears brimming in her eyes, threw her arms around him. She never thought she’d be so relieved to see his face.
When they separated, she looked him in the eye and said, “The snakes, they’re here for me. This is all my fault. We have to help these people. We have to do whatever we can.”
“Yes!” Ridge cried, slapping his hands together.
Deedubs let loose a howl. “Together, we will teach them the meaning of fear!”
Rose looked around and suddenly realized the whole group was together. No one had run off; no one was looking out only for themselves. They had been called upon to risk their lives for the good of the world, just like Rose, and still they remained. A strange feeling mixed in her gut. It was like a long search had finally ended. Under different circumstances, she thought she might even be happy.
Glancing at each of them, she said, “We just have to hold them off until we reach the Hollow.”
“Is that where we’re going? Is that what the queen said?” Coram asked as Deedubs mumbled something about cowardice.
“I think so. But why? What is it?”
Rose Coffin Page 8
