To the Eternal (Away From Whipplethorn Book Five)

by Hartoin, A. W.

  He’d been droning on about topics that went nowhere and weren’t connected. Sin, what he had for lunch, why the third suckers on his left foot hurt, the taste of gold, and sleeping for twelve hours a day. I used the time to look around and admire the church, but even the glorious interior got old after an hour and a half. The daughters didn’t mind. They sat there staring at him and occasionally nodding when he told them he was fantastic. I’d thought they were pretty smart, but I was going to have to rethink the situation.

  Finally, an elderly ashray came sloshing across the rail and told His Grace that our audience was done. I jumped to my feet, but the daughters kept sitting there. A smile flickered on the ashray’s face as he helped the cardinal to his feet. He nudged Vanda’s knee with his foot and she started.

  They were asleep. I couldn’t believe it. I had to sit through that, conscious and everything. The daughters stretched and got to their feet. Then we each kissed the cardinal’s ring. When it was my turn, he held on to my hand, whispering, “You will do a fine job.”

  “I won’t be empress for a long, long time.” I hoped that was true. I had to get that vermillion out of prison for the empress. Sitting there listening to boring lizards wasn’t getting the job done.

  “And that is why you have time to give us your service. A wise choice.” The cardinal wandered off, lecturing about the proper size for gnats.

  I got queasy. Service? It didn’t matter. I was out of Venice. No more delays.

  As soon as the cardinal was out of earshot, I said to the daughters, “You were asleep.”

  Vanda fluffed her fins. “You stayed awake? How?”

  “I can’t sleep sitting up with my eyes open.”

  “Why not?” asked Stephania.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “How do you keep your eyes open for so long?”

  The daughters looked at me and a faint cloudiness came over their dark eyes.

  “Whoa. What was that?”

  “Our third eyelids,” said Ursula. Her eyes cleared and I leaned in to get a better look. I couldn’t see anything.

  “That is cool.”

  “Everyone knows that sea serpents have third eyelids.”

  “Well, I never had a sea serpent friend before,” I said.

  The daughters’ jaws opened, showing all their intimidating teeth. It could’ve been scary, but I was starting to see the subtlety in their expressions. They rushed me with warm fish-scented hugs.

  “Friends,” said Ursula. “We’ve never had a wood fairy friend before.”

  “How come?” I asked.

  “How come you haven’t had any sea serpent friends?” asked Vanda, stroking her extra-large tail.

  I laughed and impulsively hugged her. My arms didn’t even go halfway around. “They’re usually trying to kill me.”

  “You haven’t met bissabovas before then,” said Filomena.

  “Icelandic flutterflanges.”

  The daughters hissed in unison and I laughed again. “I totally agree.”

  We left the altar and started a tour of the basilica. St. Mark’s was huge, but Stefania, the historian of the group, explained that the church was designed to look bigger than it really was. We wandered around, admiring mosaics and pillars. In the dim light, I caught a glimpse of something red. I did a double take, but it was gone.

  We headed for the altar and I saw it once again. Just a flash and my heart leapt. Percy? St. Mark’s could conceal a dragon the size of a rat, but if I saw him, the bissabova could, too. Stephania told me about the altar and several sea serpents came up to greet the daughters. They were visiting from Amsterdam and recognized the daughters of the doge. They talked about visiting the city in The Netherlands. I guess it had canals, too, and that’s pretty cool for sea serpents. I tried to catch everything that was being said, but there were so many jaws and claws. I couldn’t follow the conversation.

  Ursula moved closer to me. Her tail wrapped around my waist and tugged me backward gently. I glanced at her, but she avoided my look. I was pulled out of the group and her tail let go. Then Ursula’s tail pointed around the altar toward the rood-screen that separated the nave from the chancel area for the choir. I saw a flash of red and sucked in a breath. I gathered my cloak around me and tiptoed away around the altar. I spread my wings tentatively. They were stiff, but not as painful as before.

  I took a chance to be fast and took off, soaring over to the entrance between two green pillars. The healing part of my wing burned, but didn’t rip. I curved to the right and saw Lutrud, the red troll from the balls. After a moment of searing disappointment, curiosity took over. He watched me from under a chair that was surprisingly plain in the grandeur of the basilica. He wore a kind of cape that had armholes so that his super-muscular arms were uncovered. At the balls, he’d worn a velvet suit, covering him completely from the neck down. The cape was less formal, but a whole lot cooler. It showed a glimpse of his powerful chest and the tattoos that decorated his forearms in black ink.

  I landed next to the chair leg and stumbled to the right. My wings didn’t have their normal snap and I blushed. Devil trolls are always dignified and this one was especially so. I gathered my tattered pride and walked to him, hoping I looked at least a little bit royal and not like a dufus who was impersonating royalty, which was more accurate.

  “You wanted to see me?” I asked.

  He smiled unexpectedly. “For some time now.”

  I frowned. “I’ve only been here for a couple days.”

  “My nephew has written of you. Quite favorably,” he said and I longed to put my head on his chest to feel the rumble. He reminded me so much of Lrag.

  “Your Highness?” asked Lutrud.

  “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  Lutrud looked down on me and his naturally fierce expression softened a bit. “I remind you of someone, perhaps.”

  I smiled at the thought of Lrag’s face, fierce but so kind. “A good friend of mine. He’s the best.”

  “He’ll be glad to hear that.”

  A zing went through me and I almost couldn’t breathe. “You’ve talked to him.”

  “We write regularly.”

  My chest hurt. “When did you last get a letter?”

  “Yesterday.”

  My knees got weak and I bumped into the chair leg. “Is he okay?”

  Lutrud steadied me, his hand covering my entire forearm. “He’s well. What did you expect?”

  “Anything could happen and frequently does.” Tears sprang to my eyes. “He could’ve been tortured. Maimed.”

  “Who in the fae would maim Lysander?” he asked with a great booming laugh that I felt deep in my chest.

  “Lysander,” I whispered.

  “Who did you think I was talking about?” he asked.

  A shudder went through me. Terrible grief and disappointment. Lutrud gathered me into his chest and held me there. I didn’t cry. I shook and he stroked my hair. I pulled away after a minute. “I’m sorry. I’m glad Lysander is okay.”

  “You know another teufel troll?”

  I told him about Lrag and his fierce face showed such compassion that I nearly did cry. He rubbed my shoulders and said, “I didn’t know you knew another of my species. Teufel trolls are rare in America, aren’t they?”

  “Pretty rare,” I said. “They’re called devil trolls, usually. I totally forgot that Lysander is half teufel.”

  He smiled wide enough that I could see his elongated canine teeth. “You’re the first. Lysander will be pleased that you think of him, not his lineage.”

  “How are you related?” I asked.

  “His father was my brother. He was killed a few years ago in Germany by The Reich’s Fae. I heard you had some trouble with them yourself.”

  “You could say that.” I told him about our escape from St. Stephen’s and I think he growled.

  “The Reich’s Fae are a plague upon this earth. You must not fall into their hands.”

  “I can deal with them now that I know about t
he water squirting thing.”

  “Ah, yes. That gift is rarely useful, except in the case of fighting a kindler.”

  “What are they?” I hadn’t had a chance to ask Gerald, who would’ve given me a boring lecture about them. Now maybe I could lecture him.

  “Wasserquelle. They are kind of the opposite of you,” he said.

  “They can make water out of nothing?”

  “Yes. Some have the ability to spread disease as well.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “That’s a rotten gift.”

  “They like it, as you might imagine.”

  The Reich’s Fae did seem like the types to think disease was a useful tool instead of a curse. “Why did you want to see me? To tell me you’re Lysander’s uncle?”

  “In part. Mostly because as his friend you are mine as well. And I know that you are being kept from continuing your journey to Rome.”

  “Do you know what’s going on?” I asked. “They’ve separated me from everyone, even my little sister.”

  “No one who knows is willing to say. The doge has never done this before. It doesn’t appear to be personal. Some believe that you are to be chosen as the temporary doge because you are royalty and won’t try to keep the seat.”

  “I don’t have time for that.”

  He laughed again. “I don’t believe that is the doge’s intention.”

  “Do you know him well?” I asked.

  “Yes and putting you in, even temporarily, would slow our economy. He would not do that. I’m surprised others think he would.”

  “Honestly, I don’t care. I’ve got to get out of Venice.” I took his big hand in mine. “Can you help? Do you know where Iris is and the rest of my family?”

  “The children are in the nursery under guard, but they aren’t thought to be fighters, so the guard is light and inattentive.”

  “Well, they aren’t fighters. Horc isn’t even very good at walking. Where are the damumoto and our humans?”

  “The damumoto have been put in a cell in the foundation and the humans are still at the hotel,” Lutrud said. “We have to hurry. Vanda has noticed you’re gone.”

  “Great hearing.”

  “It’s my gift, along with blowing out eardrums.”

  I glanced over my shoulder, but no one was at the entrance yet. “Why are the damumoto in the foundation?”

  “They kept burning their way out of their stalls. No one knows how they did it. Was it you?”

  I laughed. “No. I didn’t know where they were.”

  Lutrud frowned. “We have to act soon. Tiepolo is campaigning to have you moved to another palazzo.”

  “Just me? Why?”

  “He says it’s for your security, but I think he’s afraid you are close with the daughters.”

  “Why would he care? I just want out of Venice.”

  He pulled me behind the chair leg as a set of guards came through the entrance and began a pattern search for me. “You’re a powerful weapon. It’s thought that the doge might make his announcement any day now.”

  “So what?”

  “You might endorse one of the daughters over him when it comes to the election.”

  “I’m not going to be here that long,” I said. “When does he want me moved?”

  “I have to go,” he said.

  “No, no. When?”

  “Tomorrow before breakfast. He wants it to be a surprise.”

  Flames leapt out of my palms. “I’ll have a surprise for him.”

  “I’ll do my best to get your siblings out of the nursery tonight. It’s First Election Day and the feast starts at eight tonight. Everyone will be distracted. All Venetians come together to celebrate the election of the first doge in 726.”

  I grinned. “With wine?”

  “With a lot of wine.”

  “Perfect. What about the damumoto?” I asked.

  He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I will do my best, but they will be difficult to free.”

  “I can’t leave them or Leanna and Rickard.”

  “The servants? You must leave them. The male is nearing death.”

  I gasped. The guards heard, turning in our direction. We countered by jumping behind the chair leg.

  “They’re coming.” Lutrud almost looked panicked.

  “They can’t hurt you,” I said.

  “If I’m seen, the doge will put a guard on me.”

  I pushed him back. “I’ll cover for you. Go.”

  “No, it’s fine.” He blew out a tense breath.

  “Huh?”

  “Look.”

  I stepped to the side and saw the elderly ashray waving to the guards. “Come to me. Are you looking for the kindler?”

  The guards started for the ashray and I turned back to Lutrud. “Go quick. We’ll escape tonight when they come for me.”

  “Tonight, Your Highness.”

  “Get Iris and my brothers to the courtyard at eight.”

  “I will do my best.” He kissed my hand. “From Lysander with love.”

  I almost said something, but a burning pain whizzed through my chest. Lutrud saw my reaction and he knew what I wanted to say. He gave my hand a second kiss and ran with amazing speed to the end of the rood-screen and disappeared through one of the cutouts.

  I came out from behind the chair leg with my eyes on the ceiling. A few seconds later, I was surrounded by the daughters.

  “Where have you been?” asked Filomena.

  “Right here, admiring the ceiling,” I said. “Why?”

  She put a claw to her chest and said, “We thought you’d…”

  Gotten away?

  “Gotten lost? Nope. I’m good. The ceilings are amazing. I could look at them all day,” I said, allowing myself to be led back to the entrance. I glanced over my shoulder toward the guards, who were looking incredibly relieved, and saw the ashray behind them. He made the sign of the cross and mouthed, “Go with God, Principessa.”

  I nodded. I would go and I’d be taking my family with me, every single one of them. And Rickard.

  Chapter Eleven

  THEY LOCKED ME in. I knew they would, but I didn’t expect there to be a stranger locked in with me. I came through the door and saw a hobgoblin standing at my bed and going through Grandma Vi’s bag. Flames erupted from my hands and scorched the rug. “What are you doing?” I yelled.

  She stopped with her scabby arms up to the elbows in the bag.

  “Did you hear me?”

  The only thing that moved was her big bat-like ears under a lace cap. Other than that, she was dressed in a servants’ dress like Leanna’s, but with the Venetian high waist and double sleeves. She had a sickly sweet, rotting smell that seemed about right for hobgoblins, but I felt nothing but fear from her. She wasn’t like Robespierre in Paris. He was straight up crazy or rabid, if you prefer.

  “Take your hands out of my grandmother’s bag or I will incinerate you where you stand,” I said, holding up twin fireballs that snapped and jumped in my hands, aching to be set free to sizzle.

  She slowly took her hands from the bag. In her left was a small bottle. I couldn’t make out what it was.

  “Put that back!”

  “I can’t,” she said. The whites of her eyes showed and she went from afraid to terrified.

  Curiosity got the better of me. I’ve really got to get that under control. I closed my hands and doused my fireballs. “Why not?”

  “I need it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You probably don’t even know what it is.”

  “It says hobgoblin on it,” she said.

  I sucked in a breath. No. She couldn’t have found it. I took a step forward and she jumped back pressing the bottle against her chest. “How’d you get in here?”

  “I walked.”

  “Very funny.”

  Her broad forehead wrinkled and her cap went askew. “Walking is how I move.”

  Okay. Hobgoblins. No sense of humor.

  “Uh…yes, of course,” I said. “So why di
d you walk in here?”

  “I needed this. I find things that are hidden,” she said.

  That was Max’s gift. It probably wasn’t all that uncommon. “So the guards just let you in?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Hmm. Interesting.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, adopting what I hoped was a kindly look. It didn’t come naturally.

  “Maraleeza. I’m a hobgoblin.”

  “And a maid?”

  She stood up straight and really looked me in the eye. “I’m a governess. I taught the doge Latin, English, French, and German. Also, beginning mathematics and personal grooming.”

  Yes!

  “Governesses work in the nursery, don’t they?” I asked.

  She sniffed. “No, we do not. We work in our own classrooms. I do not change diapers.”

  I suppressed a groan. So close. “Sorry. I didn’t realize there was a big difference between governesses and nannies.”

  “Oh, nannies are special. Very magical. Nursery maids are only gifted with poop.”

  Ew.

  “So why do you need that?” I asked, pointing to the bottle.

  A surge of fear came off her. “I need it.”

  “For what? I have the healing gift. Are you sick?”

  She relaxed a tad bit. “I thought you were a kindler.”

  “You can have two gifts.”

  “And you do?” she asked.

  “Healing and fire. Now, I really need that back. You don’t want it. Trust me. It doesn’t cure anything.”

  Except life.

  Maraleeza shook her head. “It says hobgoblin on it. It must be a treatment for hobgoblins.”

  “Not really.” I walked to the bed and looked in the bag. Sure enough, she’d found the secret compartment that concealed Grandma Vi’s Musee de la Mort, poisons for easing fairies out of life when all hope was gone. I’d never known it was there until Grandma’s friend, Lucien Galen, told me about it. “You really are good at finding things.”

  “I am,” she said proudly.

  “But you don’t want that.”

  “I do.”