“Never.” She leaned forward and gave me a pat on the smooth scales at the front of my neck. “See what happens if you try to fly.”
I pressed all my weight into my hindquarters and bent my forelegs. Then I sprang up, with my limbs straight, spread my wings, and soared into the sky. Keeping my chin raised, I aimed for the moon. “Do you really think Master Jesper is with our bodies in the forest?”
“It’s hard to tell,” said Fyrian. “Gladius was the first affected by the ants. He might have escaped his vision and gone back to Mount Fornax to get help.”
“If he woke before us, he will have blown the foghorn.” Flapping my wings, I continued toward the moon. It might have been my imagination, but the closer we got, the more it inched away.
“Fly harder. It’ll increase your speed,” said Fyrian.
I did as she suggested, but the moon kept getting further away. A growl reverberated in my throat. “It’s not working.”
“What do they want from us?” she snarled.
“Maybe this stupid dream quest was designed to keep us here forever,” I muttered into our bond.
“Turn back,” she said. “Maybe there’s something we missed.”
I dipped my wing and glided down in a wide circle. Something shone from deep within the pond. “Do you see that, Fyri?”
“What?”
“I’m not sure. It looks like they’ve put a clue in the water.”
“Let’s have a look.” She pushed against our bond and gasped. “You’re right. Dive down and grab it between your teeth.”
“Should I close my eyes?”
“Whatever for?”
I sent her a mental shrug, supposing that dragons’ eyes weren’t as sensitive as ours. Dipping my head toward the pond, I folded back my wings and plummeted toward the water. A golden sphere shimmered deep under the surface of the pond, and I clamped my jaws shut and gave myself the best chance to execute the dive. As soon as my head pierced the water, I parted my jaws, aimed for the gold, snatched it out of the water, and lifted my head.
I rose from the surface of the pond, and something coughed once, twice, then made huge, hacking sounds. It was a person!
“Alba,” cried Fyrian. “Find somewhere to land. I think this is Gladius!”
I glided over the pond, over Mother’s trumpet-rose swing, landed on the chamomile lawn, and released the figure, who landed with a thud. A male figure in gold armor writhed on the ground, pulling at his neck. Quicksilver eyes bulged through the visor of his helmet.
Fyrian jumped down from my back and raced toward him. “Are you stuck?”
Gladius continued struggling against the gold armor, as though it was stuck to his skin.
“See if you can pull his helmet,” I said.
She slapped his hands away and tried slipping her fingers where the gold met his flesh, but it didn’t work.
“Use your parched sword!”
Fyrian stood back and fumbled around the sword on her belt. I tried transforming into an ogre-hybrid, but the enchantment that kept us here forced me to remain a dragon. Eventually, she unhooked the parched sword and pointed it at the writhing, golden figure. With a burst of flames, the gold bubbled, melted, and fell off his skin.
Gladius’ eyes snapped open. “Th-thank you, Fyrian!”
If I had brows, I would have raised them at his ability to recognize her. Perhaps there was something consistent in a dragon no matter what form he or she took.
Fyrian offered her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
He grunted his approval and let her help him up.
This time, when I flew up into the sky with the dragons on my back, the moon didn’t shift or draw back. I dipped my head and pierced its cool, silvery surface and continued flying until I reached the other end, and the air grew warm. Surely, we had completed the dream, now?
Chapter 13
Twigs and stones dug into my back, and my head pounded like a dozen marching soldiers had decided to traipse through my skull. This had to be the real world. Nothing else could feel so unpleasant. I opened my eyes to find King Magnar dabbing my face with a wet cloth. Slivers of sunlight shone through the canopy of trees, lighting up his hair like spun gold. My throat convulsed, making its membranes stick together. How long had we stayed in that dream?
I rasped out the word, “Water.”
He ducked away, removing my barrier from the needle-like shards of sun.
With a groan, I closed my eyes. “Fyri, are you awake?”
“Was that really you in my dream?” she asked.
“That depends. Was I a silver dragon?”
“Yes, and Niger was being annoying.”
“That was me, then,” I said.
King Magnar returned seconds later with a water skin. “What took you so long? Most of us emerged from our visions last night.”
I jerked up. “Last—How long have we been unconscious?”
“About twelve hours.” He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and eased me back down to the ground. My head sank into something soft, which I assumed was his flying jacket. His brows drew together. “I take it that your challenge was linked to Fyrian’s?”
“Gladius was in it too.”
His lips thinned. “I see.”
“Did the ship come in?”
King Magnar gave me a sharp nod. “Evolene and my sisters flew out with Byrrus in the middle of the night and sank the boat.” I opened my mouth to ask a question, but he said, “Don’t worry about the crew. They all made it to shore.”
“Is the sarcophagus safe?”
“Let’s not discuss its location so close to the palace. We need to leave before they realize what’s happened to the ship.”
I sat up and rubbed my temples. Fyrian sat on her haunches, looking around the clearing and blinking through dull, red eyes. To her left lay a groaning, male figure half-buried in a pile of leaves. I leaned toward him, resting my palms on the clearing floor. “Gladius? Are you all right?”
He groaned. “I have suffered worse.”
“Are you well enough to transport us?”
“As long as I don’t have to stand.” Gladius lay on his side and reached for Fyrian’s tail. “Magnar, where are we going?”
“About three hundred and fifty leagues south-east from here,” replied the King.
“Hold on to my arm, then.”
I shuffled across the clearing to where Gladius lay and clasped his hand. King Magnar grabbed the wild dragon’s wrist, and in a stomach-wrenching blink of an eye, we lay within an orchard of Golden Callisti apples and King Midas pear trees filled with gold fruit that glinted in the morning sun. Sea air drifted across the orchard, mingling with the scent of ripe fruit. Above us, lime-green birds with hooked beaks jumped from branch to branch trilling so loud, they made my eardrums rattle.
“What’s this place?” I shouted over the noisy birds. Pain lanced through my skull, making me wince.
“The Midas Islands,” replied King Magnar.
I drew my brows together. “But that’s leagues away from everywhere.”
“It’s the only place I could think of. The spriggans will all be waiting at the palace in Savannah for the sarcophagus to arrive. When they realize someone has intercepted the boat and stolen their master, the last place they’ll look is the Midas Islands.”
“The last place they’ll look is the Midas Islands!” screeched a voice from above.
I glared up into the canopy of the Golden Callisti apple tree. “Who said that?”
“The parakeet,” replied King Magnar. “Ignore it.”
“Where’s the sarcophagus now?” I asked.
“I told the others to take it to the underground volcano between here and the Pharaoh Islands. If they completed their mission, they’ll be waiting for us in the Golden Palace.”
“They’ll be waiting for us in the Golden Palace!” screeched the wretched bird.
My eyes narrowed. Being a dragon right now would be helpful for flaming annoying pa
rakeets. I didn’t dare voice that in my mind in case Fyrian or Gladius decided to silence the bird forever. I reached for King Magnar’s waterskin. “Why aren’t you as sick as us?”
“Evolene had some vials of Panacea elixir in her sack.” He smiled. “Let’s complete the rest of the journey, and she’ll give you a dose. Gladius, could you take us a league and a half toward the mountain, please? That’s where you’ll find Evolene and my sisters.”
With a groan and a stomach-churning twist of reality, Gladius transported us to the marble courtyard of a grand palace that shone so brightly, I had to squint to maintain my vision. A groan rumbled in the back of my throat, and I covered my eyes with my forearm.
Light footsteps rushed toward me, and a small hand grabbed mine. “I-I’m so glad you’re all right,” said Evolene. It was terrible of me to have left you alone in that forest, b-but the ship was coming, and we had to deal with it!”
I patted her hand. “No need to apologize. King Magnar took care of us.” Removing my forearm from where it covered my eyes, I squinted. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any spare doses of Panacea?”
“O-of course.” She rummaged in her sack and handed me a vial containing a black liquid. “I’ll give a dose to Fyrian and Gladius.”
“Thanks.” I uncorked my vial with my teeth and downed its contents. It reminded me of eating burned bread crusts, and I assumed that one of its active ingredients was alchemical charcoal, the substance Master Klauw said would purify poisons. The pounding in my head faded to a vague buzz, my limbs lightened, and power spread from my stomach into my limbs. “Can you help Gladius and Fyrian, now?”
She nodded and walked to where Gladius lay at Fyrian’s tail. She brought a vial of Liquid Panacea to his lips, which he swallowed in one gulp. After he gave her a nod of thanks, she moved onto Fyrian and poured a vial onto her tongue. She made a deep warble of thanks in her throat, and I pulled myself up to my feet and staggered to the verandah, where servants in starched, white uniforms stood next to a table laden with plates of cold meats.
Halfway to my destination, I paused. “Are you hungry, Fyri?”
“I shouldn’t be,” she replied. “Gladius only recently caught me that tasty sawfish.”
“That was about a day ago,” I said. “We’ve slept since then.”
“Oh. I forgot Magnar told us a whole night had passed.”
Large paws landed in the courtyard with a thud. Byrrus held an octopus between his jaws and rolled it across the marble floor to Fyrian. She glanced at the offering and turned her head.
“Fyri, he’s trying to make friends.”
“Well, he called me a coward,” she muttered.
“This is his first time outside Mount Fornax,” I said. “After being blown down by the fin-men’s fog and attacked by ants, I doubt that he thinks these adventures are so easy.”
“Take his gift,” said Gladius. “The poor young dragon has been looking for a way to apologize to you for weeks.”
Fyrian sniffed. “I suppose I might have room in my stomach for an octopus.”
I smiled and headed for the buffet table. “I’m glad you’ve made up with him.”
Fyrian blew a plume of flames over her octopus, filling the air with the scent of grilled seafood. I stood under the shade and helped myself to a jug of passionfruit juice and a plate already made up by one of the servers who stood around the edges of the veranda wall.
King Magnar strolled over with his arms behind his back. “This is only one of my many palaces, you know.”
I narrowed my eyes and bit into a slice of salmon tart.
“The Princess who marries into the Savannah royal household not only gets to rule over Savannah, but Pampas, the Midas Islands, and all the smaller islands around the vast coast.”
“But she also gets to marry you.” I popped an olive into my mouth.
His face dropped. “Surely, we’ve overcome our differences by now.”
“I thought we’d come to an agreement. As soon as you get your Kingdom back, you’re releasing the damsel denial, and I’ll be free to pursue whoever I want.”
His blond brows drew together. “Please don’t get me wrong, Princess Alba. I would never break a bargain. But after we’ve stopped the spriggans, I’d like you to reconsider our betrothal.”
An acerbic remark rolled to the tip of my tongue. Even if I didn’t have Niger, I would never consider King Magnar. I was about to tell him as much when—
BOOM!
The back wall exploded in a cloud of brick dust. Out from the haze strode a seven-foot-tall warrior, clad in black leather with his face obscured by a helmet. In a gloved hand, he held a dollhouse. It was the kind without a front wall, exposing all its rooms like Uncle Armin had bought me for my fifth birthday. Deep within its depths cowered four miniature, blonde girls.
A spasm of panic seized my heart. Not only had the spriggan found us, but he held exactly the kind of leverage that would get King Magnar’s sisters to reveal the location of the sarcophagus.
Behind us, human servants screamed and ran toward the building, while armed guards rushed forward, pointing their halberds at the spriggan.
“Magnar,” growled the foul creature. “How nice it is to see you.”
Fyrian reared back, flames gathering deep within her jaws.
“Don’t attack!” I shouted out loud. “He’s holding King Magnar’s sisters.” Turning to the spriggan, I snarled, “How did you find us?”
The wretched creature strolled across the courtyard as though he’d been invited to a Sun Day afternoon lunch. “Do you think we spriggans couldn’t tell when one we had marked entered our territory?”
King Magnar stared at the dollhouse, his face as pale as milk. “W-what do you want?”
“The sarcophagus,” said the spriggan, his voice a deep purr. “Where did you put it?”
King Magnar gulped. “I-I don’t know.”
The spriggan pulled back the visor his helmet, revealing rheumy, gray eyes, set within a withered baby face. His nose curved toward his chin and hung over his lips. Then he bared a mouthful of long, yellowing teeth. “I think you know exactly where it is, and if you don’t tell me, one of your sisters will die.”
“But you made a boon not to hurt them,” I spat.
His face twisted into a grotesque smirk. “Hemlock made that boon. And now he’s dead.”
“I have a suggestion.” I stepped forward, hands up to show that I wouldn’t reach for my weapons. Breathing hard to keep my voice even, I asked, “Why don’t I offer myself to you in exchange for the little girls?”
The spriggan tilted his head to the side. “His Majesty’s kin?”
I cast Gladius a nervous glance. Up until now, I hadn’t told him about my relationship to the Forgotten King. Nodding, I hoped he wouldn’t react badly to the revelation. “H-his great-granddaughter.”
The spriggan glanced from me to the dollhouse. “A tempting—”
A fist poked out from the middle of his chest. The spriggan opened its mouth in a silent scream, and fell forward, revealing a scowling Gladius. Before the dollhouse fell to the ground, Evolene levitated it into the air with her magic.
King Magnar clutched at his temples. “Is it over?”
“Not yet.” I rushed to Evolene’s sack and felt around until I found the rack of vials. Then I strode over to where the spriggan lay on his front and rolled it onto its back with my feet.
The spriggan’s eyes bulged. “You cannot kill me!”
It was my turn to bare my teeth. “Turn the girls back to their normal size, and we’ll let you go.”
He spat out a bloody mouthful of saliva. “Tell me where Magnar has hidden the sarcophagus, and I will restore the girls!”
“That’s not going to happen.” I placed my boot on his chest wound, making him gasp. “But if you don’t restore the girls, you’ll die painfully.”
“This is going nowhere!” Gladius blew black flames on the spriggan’s feet.
I jumped to
one side. “What are you doing?”
“It’s the only language they understand, isn’t it, Oleander?”
The spriggan’s eyes bulged. “H-how would you know my name?”
Gladius blew another stream of black flames on the spriggan’s ankles. “You are trapped. I will continue burning you, piece by piece until there is nothing left of you but a disfigured head. Will you do as we say, or will you submit to a fiery death?”
“M-my friends have surrounded the palace.”Oleander’s gray tongue darted out to lick his withered lips. “If you don’t surrender the sarcophagus, you’ll all be living in dollhouses!”
BOOOOOOOOOOO!!
I whirled around. Astri blew the foghorn. White mist swirled around the courtyard, wrapping around the spriggan’s neck. The spriggan’s tongue expanded to the size of a fist, and foam spilled out of his mouth. Disgust rippled through my belly, and I turned my head. Harsh, choking sounds came from the spriggan along with cries for mercy. It was hard to tell what he was trying to say when his tongue was so swollen. Then, as it drew its last breaths, it melted into a pool of gray sludge.
“That was…” I shook my head.
“Why did you blow the horn?” asked King Magnar.
Astri placed her hands on her lips and raised her chin in an angle of defiance. Her blue eyes became as hard as emeralds. “He was never going to help them. Even if we told him where we’d put the sarcophagus, he would probably reduce us all to doll-size or kill us.”
Gladius grunted. “The witch is right. Only the force of magic can hold a spriggan to an agreement. With the one who held your original boon dead, they are free to hurt your sisters as they please.”
Evolene levitated the dollhouse to an empty table on the verandah. Botilda sprinted toward them. “Freja!” she cried. “Halle, Ingrid, Piper!”
“Botti!” Piper ran to the edge of the dollhouse, pigtails flying. “Are we going to be stuck like his forever?”
“I-I don’t know.” Tears glistened in the older witch’s eyes.
A lump formed in my throat. Those poor girls had suffered enough, and I wouldn’t let them live such a cursed life. “If we can’t get the spriggans to reverse their spell, I’ll see if I can get someone in the realm of the fairies to help you.”
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