To the Eternal (Away From Whipplethorn Book Five)

by Hartoin, A. W.

  “I have to.”

  Rickard clawed at the hand around his neck as it lifted him off the ground and the vessels in his eyes began to pop.

  “You have to say, ‘I accept Rickard Popel.’”

  “Yes, yes,” I said in a rush. “I accept Rickard Popel.”

  Rickard turned blue, not a dead kind of blue, but a magical kind of blue. A light haze covered him and the Keeper of the Keys dropped him in a heap on the floor. On instinct, I dropped to my knees and checked to see if the former valet was breathing. He wasn’t and I gave him a good slap. It felt awesome, if I’m being honest. Rickard may have been cleared, but he wasn’t innocent. Innocent was a totally different thing.

  After a second slap, Rickard sucked in a harsh breath and began coughing until he spasmed on the floor.

  The sluagh helped me up and said with a bemused expression, “You could’ve let him die.”

  “No, I couldn’t.” I glanced at Gerald, who looked like he didn’t agree one bit. I nudged Rickard with my foot. “Can you fly? We’re in a hurry.”

  He struggled to answer and the sluagh gave him a none too gentle boot to the butt.

  “Okay. That’s enough,” I said. It wasn’t enough. Rickard had something to do with the horen, but all I could feel from him was terror. I closed my eyes and took a look inside his throat. Lots of bruising. I had nothing for that, so I grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. “Hello. We have to go.”

  Rickard nodded and I pushed him past the Keeper of the Keys as I thanked him for his service. He bowed low and waved. We jogged through the long levels of the prison and I caught some faces peering through the barred windows. I suspect there was some yelling and possibly pleading. Sometimes, being deaf is a very good thing.

  When we got to the entrance, I yelled for Percy. My wing was burning and I needed a good soak before we left for Italy. But before Percy got to us, a crowd of fairies of about a dozen species flew up in front of us. They were yelling and I felt the barrage, even if I couldn’t hear it. I jumped backward and knocked my wing. I screeched in pain and Gledit put himself between me and the crowd. For a delicate leaf fairy, he was fast and furious. His little leaves bristled as the anubis surrounded me. I couldn’t see anyone’s mouth long enough to know what was happening. My heart started pounding. Someone yanked me backward and pressed me against him. I smelled them before I realized who it was. The scent of urine, blood, and pus filled my nose and mouth. I recoiled and flames shot from my fingers. Rickard screamed and bolted back, ramming himself against the wall, his suit on fire.

  “Your Highness, you must leave by the other exit,” yelled The Keeper of the Keys.

  I snapped my fingers and the flames on Rickard’s burning lapel instantly went out. He was still screaming and the sluagh reached over and manually closed his mouth.

  “Your Highness, please,” said the Keeper of the Keys.

  “What do they want?” I asked.

  “You. Someone must’ve seen you arrive. They probably recognized your dragon.”

  The hall got dark and I looked back at the entrance. Percy had his eyeball pressed against it.

  “I’m okay,” I told the dragon, but he didn’t back up.

  The Keeper of the Keys pulled me down the stairs. “You’ll have to go out the back way.”

  “But what do they want?” I asked.

  The sluagh answered, but he wasn’t facing me. Gerald took my other hand. “They want healing.”

  I stopped and pulled my hand away from The Keeper of the Keys. “It’s fine. Just tell them about the proclamation. I made a rejuvenation spell. They’re distributing it at the palace.”

  Gerald shook his head. “It’s you they want. There’s a front-page story today about you healing Miss Penrose.”

  “Swell. That’s just what I need,” I said.

  The sluagh yelled something over my head and we rushed down the stairs with the anubis surrounding me. I felt ridiculous. I didn’t need guards. I needed to get out of town without my guards. From the set of their long jaws, it wasn’t going to be easy to lose them.

  The Keeper of the Keys led me through a vault filled with dingy metal sarcophagi in a long row. Behind the casket of the long-dead Anna of Tyrol, we entered a hole that looked like a rat hole. I knew from experience that it wasn’t made by rats. It was a dragon hole, but there weren’t any dragons inside. The dim passageway was dusty and unused. Somewhere along the way, someone else took my hand and a sense of calm came over me. I smiled at Leanna, but she wasn’t smiling. She calmed me, but she was scared, maybe of me. She’d seen me set fire to Rickard and I’d been told that my fire was a hard thing to witness for the first time. Fire has always been considered unnatural and dangerous in a wood fairy. Knowing I was a kindler was different than seeing it.

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  She nodded, but her expression didn’t change. We got to a large iron door with ten locks. The Keeper of the Keys didn’t actually have any keys. He used his fingers to unlock the locks. He inserted a finger into each keyhole, it glowed yellow and the lock popped open. Then he slid the door open a crack and peered out.

  “Your chariot awaits, Your Highness,” he said and pulled the door open wide. Percy had landed on the sidewalk outside and he had a coating of snow covering his back already. I came to the door and his claw snatched me up mid-step. Then he took off after grabbing Gerald and Rickard with his other claw. We sailed away into the increasing storm. I was half-blind from the snow pelting me in the face and shaking from the cold. Maybe giving my cloak to Delphine wasn’t the best idea. I curled up in Percy’s claw, crossing my fingers that we’d left my entourage far behind. Without them, I could get Iris and be on our way within the hour. Easy. We deserved easy. It was time.

  Chapter Four

  THE BACK ENTRANCE of St. Stephen’s had a layer of ice on it. It was so thick, I couldn’t touch Albrecht I’s crown and Percy had to do flying gymnastics to get me close enough to try. The main entrance might’ve been okay. The storm was that bad. I had ice crystals coating my hair and Gerald was blue so I didn’t have time to show my worthlessness before the divinely chosen.

  “Go down!” I screamed and Percy dropped down. A gust of wind pushed him sideways, so I missed Albrecht I’s foot, not that I was going to kiss it as I’d been taught. Percy flapped hard and my out-stretched hand made contact. I didn’t get humble. I got mad. Flames shot out of my palm, vaporizing the ice.

  “Open up in the name of the princess royal!” I screamed into the wind. To my surprise, the blue-stockinged foot vanished. I was totally ready to melt it. Maybe Albrecht I could tell. He was supposed to tell if I was properly humble. Maybe he knew when I absolutely wasn’t.

  Percy zipped into the nave and did a crazy barrel roll to clear the ice from his wide wings. Then he glided over to Anton Pilgram’s self-portrait in the pulpit and hovered.

  I glanced around just in case, but all was quiet in the cathedral. The master secretary had restricted access to formal tour groups after my betrothal, so there were only humans and a couple dozen fairies inside at one time. The Viennese fae weren’t happy, but the cardinal said I’d be going to Italy soon enough. Only dragons weren’t restricted after their loyalty in the battle and there were two dozen dragons wheeling around the relatively warm air above the pews.

  I tapped Percy’s leg and he gently set me down on Anton’s arm. I shook my head and sprayed the famous sculptor’s stone sleeve. Anton had carved his image on the pulpit. The servants’ entrance to the cardinal’s apartment, as well as mine, was next to his neck. The master secretary tried to break my habit of using the servants’ entrance, but it was too engrained. Gerald and Rickard dropped down next to me. Gerald shivered violently and Rickard collapsed. He would’ve rolled off the arm if I hadn’t stepped on his tattered coattail. Percy snorted a jet of fire at him, singeing his hair, before sailing off for a drink at the skull font. Nobody was clinging to his corkscrewed horns. I guess my entourage did get left behind. Thank y
ou, Percy.

  “We don’t have much time,” I said.

  “For what?” Gerald said through chattering teeth.

  I eyed the climb up to the entrance. There was no way I could fly. “To get out of Vienna before Gledit and the rest get here. If I know him, he will find a way, storm or no storm.”

  “Don’t you have to take them?”

  “I’m not good at ‘have to’.”

  There was a strangled sound as Rickard shook his head. Gerald and I stared at him as he tried to get to his feet. I gave in and hauled him up. Gerald just watched, rubbing his arms and slowly going back to his normal color. Rickard leaned against the wall, hunched and pathetic.

  “What are you going to do with him?” Gerald mouthed.

  “He tried to protect me.”

  “I know. That’s weird.”

  “Tell me about it.” I didn’t want to think about it too much, but I couldn’t leave the dirtbag there. He smelled like pus. That wasn’t a good sign. “Gerald, fly up and see if the master secretary is in his office.”

  “What if he isn’t?” he asked.

  “Find somebody to get Rickard inside and then you fill your bathtub. I’ll heat it when I get up there.”

  “Okay, but you should take a bath, too. You don’t look so good.”

  “Thanks for that,” I said, waving him off.

  Gerald flew up and disappeared. Rickard raised his head and managed to say something I couldn’t make out. He was so sick and exhausted that his lips barely moved.

  “Never mind. Somebody will come in a minute,” I said.

  He used every ounce of strength he had to face me, eyes defiant. “I’ll climb.”

  “Get real. You couldn’t climb over a gnat.”

  “You have to wait for Gledit.”

  “Nope. Not gonna do it.”

  “I won’t let you go. You have to have security.”

  “You won’t let me? Seriously, dude, you are wrecked.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Now that I think about it. We’re alone.”

  Rickard’s eyes went wide.

  “Tell me what you did,” I ordered.

  “Nothing.”

  “You hate me. Somehow, you knew about the horen. Delphine just beat you to it.”

  He shook his head.

  I smiled and my palms sizzled. “You can lie to the Keeper of the Keys, but lying to me will be harder. I know you.”

  Rickard straightened up as much as he could. “I’m not—”

  The master secretary hopped down between us. “Your Highness, where have you been? His Grace has been asking for you.”

  I sneered at Rickard. “I got distracted.”

  The master secretary sniffed. “You smell…questionable.”

  “I saw Delphine and got stuck with Rickard. Can you get Delphine out of the Kaisergruft?”

  “You want her out?”

  “She’ll die there. The Keeper of the Keys said she should go to jail,” I said.

  “If he said that, it will be so.”

  “Thanks. The empress—”

  “Yes. We got the message from the palace. Lonica has packed your bags.” The master secretary turned a beady eye to Rickard, who visibly cowered. He didn’t react that way to me. Dwarfs weren’t that scary. I, on the other hand, could be plenty scary. I should’ve scared Rickard.

  The master secretary touched my arm. “Can you make it—” He wheeled around and his bulbous nose turned bright red.

  I followed his gaze and I got the redness. The cathedral gargoyles were climbing over Anton’s hand, lashing their tails and hissing.

  The master secretary poked me. My so-called royal status hadn’t changed his attitude toward me at all. “Do something about them?”

  “What do you expect me to do?” I asked.

  He gnashed his oddly pointy teeth and said, “They’re Whipplethorn gargoyles.”

  I didn’t have a defense for that. The gargoyles had been a stable species attached to the cathedral for a thousand years, then I made Lrag’s rejuvenation spell and the freaks ate it. No, they didn’t just eat it. They jumped in it and swam around while stuffing themselves. When they came out, they’d changed color from the normal gargoyle color of stone grey to the colors of my wings. They became luminescent and their snouts and ears grew. It was beyond bizarre and kind of creepy. Everyone now called them Whipplethorn gargoyles, like it was some kind of compliment. It wasn’t. They were still feral and had some kind of healing power that I had no clue how to harness.

  The gargoyles headed across Anton’s arm, but instead of looking at me, they were going for Rickard. He was too busy trying to haul himself up a quarter inch on the wall to notice.

  “What are they going to do?” asked the master secretary.

  “How should I know?” I asked.

  “You once said that they work for you.”

  “Well, they don’t.” To illustrate, I waved at them. “Hey guys, come over here.”

  Their emotionless, reptilian eyes briefly glanced at me before looking back at Rickard.

  “See?”

  A shaking Rickard glanced over. “See what?” He barely got the words out before they swarmed over him. He probably screamed. Who wouldn’t? The master secretary slapped his forehead and then pointed at me. “Are they healing him?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. They could be killing him. He’s not my biggest fan.”

  “Stop them.”

  “You stop them. He works for you.”

  “Not anymore,” said the master secretary. “Matilda Whipplethorn, stop them.”

  I put my nose in the air. “That’s Your Highness to you.”

  He rolled his hard little eyes. “If they kill him, I’ll tell your mother.”

  “You don’t even know my mother.”

  “I will after you save her from the French.” He seemed pretty sure about it and I didn’t need Mom thinking I was any more murderous than she already did.

  “Fine. Is he screaming?”

  “What do you think?”

  I dashed over and tried to pry off the glowing gargoyles. It totally didn’t work. Since they ate the spell, they were kind of slippery. “I can’t get them. You have to help.”

  The master secretary shrugged. “Never mind. He stopped screaming.”

  Then I screamed, “Is he dead?”

  “I’m choosing to take this as a good sign.”

  I groaned and tried again with no better luck. “If he’s dead, it’s not my fault.”

  “I can live with that. Excellent,” he said. “Here come Herman and Portia.”

  A pair of the cathedral guards in their brown cassock uniforms darted over and landed in front of us. They glanced at the pile of gargoyles before bowing low.

  “I’m glad to see you two are thinking. Help Her Highness up to the entrance,” said the master secretary.

  They looked at me, worry creasing their smooth brows.

  “I don’t think that’s why they’re here,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “Your Highness, Master Secretary,” said Herman, “there’s a crowd outside the front door. May we admit them?”

  “They’re going to freeze to death,” said Portia, draping her lovely grey wings over her shoulders for warmth.

  “Absolutely not,” said the master secretary. “You have your orders. Send them to Aida. The human, Grete, will feed them and keep them warm until it’s over.”

  “Sir, I don’t believe they’ll make it,” said Herman. “The wind…”

  I gave up the fight with the gargoyles and got to my feet. “Let them in.”

  “Your security is paramount,” said the master secretary.

  “Let’s go ask the cardinal.”

  He grumped and gnashed his teeth. “Let them in, but keep them under heavy guard. And inform the damumoto that Matilda will be needing a carriage immediately.”

  The guards stared at him.

  “In this weather?” asked Portia.

  “Master Secretary, she can’t. It�
�s practically suicide.”

  He nodded his lumpy over-sized head. “I understand. Do as I’ve ordered, but first help her up to the entrance.”

  “Um…what about that?” Herman pointed at the gargoyle pile.

  “I’ll take care of that.”

  Doubt showed on the guards’ faces. The master secretary was known for giving orders and that was about it. But they obeyed and took me under the arms to fly me the short way up to the servants’ entrance. They, like the cardinal, seemed to approve of me using it instead of the grand entrance.

  They set me down just inside and I looked at the spot where the dead horen had been. I tried not to think about her or about how close Iris came to death. It was time to leave, time to forget all that stuff. When Iris and I got back, Mom and Dad would be with us. I’d bring a vermillion to treat the empress and none of those nasty memories would matter anymore.

  Portia touched my shoulder. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

  Herman wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at the spot, too. There was some greasy residue from the body that we couldn’t get up and he started breathing hard. Herman had been there with me that day and he wasn’t doing so well with it. He’d been seeing Healer Bauer, but I don’t know if it helped. I gave a significant glance to Portia and she nodded, stepping in front of Herman to block his view. “We better go open the doors before they freeze.”

  Herman shook his head, as if to clear some nasty cobwebs, and nodded to her and then me. They flew out of the entrance and I jogged down the hall to the cardinal’s door. I knocked and waited a few seconds before going in. The cardinal lay on his bed with his family bible under his left hand. It was a big, fat copy that he could no longer lift, but he insisted on having it with him at all times. His right hand was clasped by Aoife, the cathedral cook. It took her a second to look at me, but when she did, I saw the tears in her large green eyes. She was taking the cardinal’s impending death worse than he was. Having been with him since he became a cardinal, she almost couldn’t bear it.

  “How is he?” I whispered.