“I don’t know what you’ve heard about kindlers. But I don’t go around attacking for no reason,” I said. “My family’s seen enough death and destruction to last five lifetimes. They’d never do what Giacomo did.”
“Would you do any less than what I’m doing to save your family?” He pointed at Iris. “I’ve seen the love between you. You’d kill to save her.”
“You’re stopping me from saving my family right now!” I yelled. I couldn’t hold it anymore. Leanna dashed across the room and the rest of my family followed.
“I won’t harm you,” said Ruffiano, astonished and a bit hurt. “Neither will the doge. He’s said in the parchment that you will come to no harm. He’s a serpent of his word.”
“It’s not the doge I’m worried about and”—I waved to Iris and the others—“this isn’t the family I’m talking about.”
“What else is there?”
I told him why we were going to Rome and the Vatican. He’d seen enough victims of the revolution to know our family being held by them was a bad thing. He took my hand and kissed it. “Your Highness, I’m very sorry. I cannot help you.”
“You could if you wanted to,” said Gerald.
“No, I cannot. I am bound to the doge. And if Giacomo is killed, it will start years of bloodshed. In the last century, we’ve only been battling over the galen and territory.”
“Are they holding the galen hostage?” asked Iris. “Why?”
Ruffiano shrugged. “They want the prestige they bring. We Montagues have an international reputation because of our galen.”
“What do the galen want?” I asked.
“To treat their patients in peace.”
I sat on the window seat and draped my injured wing over my shoulder. The galen deserved to be left alone. If I could find a way…
“Why did you start fighting in the first place?” I asked.
Ruffiano reddened. “We were allies all those years ago and they chose to insult us in the worst way possible.”
“Did somebody get killed?” asked Gerald.
“No, but the insult led to many deaths.”
“Well, what was it?” asked Leanna. “What could be worth so much anger and pain?”
“Wait here. I will show you.” Ruffiano left my room, putting several guards in the hall to keep an eye on us. I could’ve blown through them, but now I was curious. That had to be some insult.
Ruffiano strode back into my room with his nose in the air and lugging another hefty book. “See what the Capulets have done.” He dropped the book on the bed. Embossed on the cover were the words La Storia de Crimini Capuleti.
He opened the book and leafed past a couple of pages covered in Italian handwriting to a portrait. It was a fine portrait of a less than fine-looking fairy. “There. See.” Ruffiano pushed the book toward me.
I didn’t see. How could a portrait start so much trouble? “It’s nice.”
“Nice? You must be joking with me.”
Iris, Gerald, Leanna, and Horc crowded around me.
“I like her,” said Horc. “The perfect combination of lumpy and hairy.”
We all laughed. Well, everyone but Ruffiano, who scowled. “She is not perfect. She is an insult.”
“Who is she?” I asked.
He tapped a spot on the fairy’s dress. Incorporated in the folds of the fabric was the name, “Juliet.”
“That’s Juliet?”
“Exactly,” said Ruffiano. “Did you ever imagine such a… person?”
I didn’t have to imagine. Horc was sitting right there.
“I never thought about it,” I said. “The Juliet in the play—”
“Shakespeare,” he scoffed. “A romantic.”
Horc took a biting stick from Leanna, snapped off the end, and said between chews, “A handsome girl. Part spriggan, I believe.”
“You’d think so, but no. Juliet was all Capulet.”
I took a closer look. If you got past the spriggan-like qualities, Juliet was interesting. She had a strong, intelligent expression in her eyes and a wry smile, as if she knew she wasn’t beautiful but also knew she was something more. “I kinda like her.”
“Your Highness, that’s not possible,” said Ruffiano.
“Me, too,” said Leanna. “She has a strong character. I’m a nanny. I know these things.”
“I bet she was smart,” said Gerald. “It’s in her face.”
Ruffiano pointed a shaking finger at Juliet. “Smart? Strong character? Look at her.”
We shrugged at him.
“So?” I asked. “She’s not beautiful. There’s other stuff to worry about.”
“You can say that,” said Ruffiano. “You with that face.”
Iris puffed up. “What about my sister’s face?”
“Yeah,” said Gerald. “What’s your problem?”
“I have no problem. The princess is a beauty. It is easy to say beauty doesn’t matter when you are beautiful.”
Horc spat out a load of splinters. “Beauty? Ha! She has not half the face of Juliet.”
Ruffiano stared at Horc. “Your point?”
“You do not know a good thing when you see it.”
“Looks haven’t been all that useful to me,” I said. “My fire’s a lot better.”
“And your healing,” said Iris. “Lrag would’ve died without your skill.”
“And Bentha,” said Horc.
“Your regular fighting’s pretty good,” said Leanna. “I’d be dead without it. I didn’t care what you looked like when you were saving me from that mob in the palace.”
Ruffiano shook his head. “I don’t understand you at all. You can see this…this face.”
Gerald crawled onto the bed and turned the book toward him, leafing through more pages. “Is that it? You started fighting because your ancestors didn’t like Juliet’s face?”
“Because our families had decided to unite, to become one. That”—he stabbed his finger at the book—“is what they sent us. It was an insult. The Capulets sent their ugliest girl to marry a Montague. As if we didn’t deserve more. They had lovely girls, beautiful girls, and they sent Juliet.”
My heart ached for Juliet. What an awful thing to happen. It hurt a lot to be judged for something you couldn’t control, like me with my fire or the mindbenders with their abilities. You can’t help who you are and why was it so bad anyway?
“I think you’re mean,” said Iris and we all agreed.
“You astonish me, Your Highness,” said Ruffiano.
“Right back at you,” I said. “Your feud is stupid.”
“Be that as it may, tomorrow, you will save my son. I will try to talk the doge out of having you returned to Venice afterward.”
I crossed my arms.
“Do I have your word that you won’t try to escape?” he asked.
“Heck no.”
“Then I will leave a full unit of guards on your door.” Ruffiano bowed deeply. “I will come for you in the morning at dawn.”
The palms prickled. He knew I was a kindler, but he hadn’t seen what I could do with my fire. His ignorance was my advantage. We eyed each other for a moment and then Ruffiano left, making sure I saw the armed guards outside.
Whatever. I’m so impressed.
He closed the door and Iris said, “He bolted the door.”
“Let him.” I held out my palm and a brilliant blue fireball erupted in the center. “My fire is back in a big way.”
I slept at the foot of my bed, curling around Horc, letting the rhythm of his snores vibrate me to sleep. Sometime around two in the morning, Gerald shook me awake. He held a potted fungus below his face, giving him odd shadows that seemed threatening. I jumped and nearly tossed Horc off the bed.
“Don’t do that,” I said, peeling Rufus off my face and uncoiling Fidelé’s tail from around my neck.
“You told me to wake you up,” he said with his lower lip poking out.
I grabbed him and planted a big kiss on his forehead.
“Sorry. You looked sorta demonic.”
“Really? Cool.”
I rolled my eyes and shook Iris’s shoulder. She got up and shook Leanna awake before testing the shutters on the window. “Bolted.”
I laughed. “Ruffiano’s not dumb. Of course, he bolted them.”
“What if there’s a spell on the window?” asked Gerald.
Horc stood up and wobbled on the bed. “Then my sister will blow the spell to smithereens.”
Gerald looked at me.
“Sounds like a plan.” I hefted my traveling bag onto my shoulder and Leanna promptly took it off. “Oh, no, you don’t. You have to fly to the dragons. No carrying anything.”
“Are you getting bossy or is it just me?” I asked.
“I’m a nanny. I’m supposed to be bossy.”
“Alright then. Are we ready?” I went over the plan. It took about thirty seconds since it consisted of blowing out the window, flying to the dragons, and following Gerald’s directions. The last one was his favorite. He kept telling Iris he was the Supreme Commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force. Victory rustled around on Iris’s shoulder every time he said it, but the tiny phalanx didn’t protest. Weird.
“Do we have everything?” I asked.
Leanna readjusted the set up for a minute or two before she nodded. Since I wasn’t allowed to carry anything other than Fidelé and Rufus, she was the lucky bearer of Horc and the royal jewelry. Horc refused to be separated from the case. Iris had Grandma Vi’s unwieldy bag because Gerald said the supreme commander had to be mobile. He had my traveling bag crossed over his thin body.
“You may proceed, Matilda,” he said after coming to attention.
“Iris, is there anyone out there?” I asked.
“Not that I can hear, but they might just be quiet.”
I nodded and went to the window, made a long, thin flame with a sharp point, and then I burrowed it into the wooden shutter. The flame went through in a second and I extinguished it before looking through into the darkness. In the distance, there were twinkling lights, but nothing close. I turned to Iris and she shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Okay,” I said. “Get ready.”
I melted the hinges and the shutter dropped down on to the sill with a thump. I eased it off the sill and set it down against the wall. Several thick planks of wood blocked our way, but all I had to do was lift them off their braces. “We’re out.”
Gerald went out first and flapped around. “It’s clear. This is too easy.”
I agreed, but there was nothing to be done about it. Iris and Leanna went through the window and I followed. My wing stung, but it was so much better, I didn’t mind. The cool evening air felt good. The freedom felt better. Gerald led the way up to the ramparts to where the dragons were roosting. The second before I cleared the top, I felt it. Something was wrong. There were bad intentions all over the place. I sensed them without seeing anyone.
“Stop!” I said, but it was too late. Gerald and Iris flew over, out of sight. I dashed up, trying to grab Leanna’s hem. She was too fast for me and went over the edge to stop suddenly so that I hit my head on her foot. She pivoted. “Matilda! No!”
I darted up beside her and saw the dragons. All three had golden lines over their bodies, pinning them to the rampart. They were awake. Their eyes pleaded for help. The golden lines clamped them closed so tightly that I could see their scales bulging between the bindings.
“What is it?” asked Gerald.
“You don’t know?” asked Iris. She wasn’t sarcastic. She was really amazed. So was I.
“No idea?” I asked. “It wasn’t in the Speciesapedia?”
“I don’t remember any—”
A figure walked out from Ovid’s head. Giacomo pulled off his hood and smiled broadly at us. “You won’t find my gift in any book. It’s unique to me.”
“I doubt that,” I said.
“Doubt all you want. It’s true. I bet you thought my road was pretty worthless.”
“This is the same thing?”
He smiled and crossed his arms. “Yes, just used in a different way. You can’t break it with an arrow, in case that’s what you’re thinking, you’d hit the dragons.”
By the way the dragons were looking at me, I think they’d be willing to take some arrows. But I didn’t have any arrows. I had fire, but no idea of what would happen. “Victory?”
The little phalanx peeked at me from under his shell.
“Stand up,” I ordered. “I don’t know what’s up with you, but we’ve got a situation here.”
Giacomo laughed. “A situation. That’s a good way to describe it. My father thought you wouldn’t escape with guards on your door. He’s a fool. I knew you’d get out. You escaped the doge.”
“Your father didn’t say how?” I asked. That was odd and I didn’t know what to make of it. That was kind of important information. Ruffiano didn’t trust his son at all.
Giacomo tilted his head and frowned. “No, he didn’t. He knows I can hold the dragons forever, if I want.”
“Maybe he should’ve mentioned this.” I held up a finger and a cheerful, snapping yellow flame appeared at the end.
He gasped and shrank back, bumping into Ovid’s snout. “A kindler.”
“Bet you wish you knew that.” My flame jumped from finger to finger, spitting sparks and becoming larger.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, no?”
“No. Fire doesn’t affect my ribbons. I tried it.”
My flame jumped off my hand and formed into a dragon, complete with wings and a lashing tail. “Does it affect you?” I asked. “Let’s find out.”
Giacomo faced me without much fear. “You don’t know what will happen if you kill me.”
“I know you can’t perform a spell if you’re dead.”
“You won’t kill me. My father said you don’t attack.”
“I don’t. Not unless I’m attacked or my family is attacked first.” I glanced at the rest of my family. “What do you think? Is tying up our dragons an attack?”
They nodded, glaring at Giacomo.
“Even you, Leanna?” he asked. “I thought we were friends.”
“I thought so, too, but you’re a sneezing weasel.”
Giacomo pointed at her. “Take that back.”
“I won’t,” she said. “This is all your fault, sneezing weasel.”
I stepped back and bent over to Gerald. “Okay, What’s a sneezing weasel?”
“Vermin,” he said with a grin. “They infest fairy houses and sneeze on all the food.”
“Ew.”
“Yep.”
“He is a sneezing weasel,” said Iris.
Horc wiggled in Leanna’s arms. “I would like to poop in his bed.”
Giacomo stared at the little spriggan. “Poop in my bed?”
“That’s no idle threat,” I said. “He’s done it before.” I didn’t mention that it was Iris’s bed that he pooped on.
“That’s disgusting.”
“Yeah, just like you.” I waved to the flaming dragon and it started toward Giacomo. He countered the movements with his hands beginning to shake.
“You can’t kill me. What if my spell kills the dragons the moment I die?”
Good point. Darn it.
“We could just leave,” I said.
Without a word, Victory bounded off Iris’s shoulder and ran to Ovid, nestling between his horns. Love. What a pain in my wings.
“I don’t think you will,” said Giacomo, smug as could be. If I could’ve incinerated him right then, I would’ve. But he was right. I couldn’t chance it and I couldn’t leave.
“We’ll see what happens,” I said.
He strode over like he was some kind of conquering hero, carefully skirting my flaming dragon. “We’ll see you killing Oliverio tomorrow. I’m not picky. You can do it with fire or one of the dragons, which ever you prefer. Goodnight.” He walked to the wall, tapped the code, and the doorway vanished. He ste
pped inside. “Ciao, bella!”
“Ciao, weasel boy!”
He scowled and the wall reformed, blocking my view. Iris grabbed my arm. “What’ll we do? You can’t kill Oliverio. It’s murder. You’re not a murderer. Not even a little bit. I love you and no one I love would do that. So what do we do? What—”
“Iris! Stop. You’re hurting my brain,” I said, walking over to Percy. I touched the golden ribbon encircling his snout. A rain of sparks shot off it and the dragon winced. “Sorry.”
Percy blinked. I could see the pain in his big eye, but I couldn’t hug him without setting off sparks, so I patted his horn. “I’m going to get you out of this.”
Gerald tugged on my sleeve. “How? We’re trapped.”
“Something will come to me,” I said, yawning.
“Should we go back to the room?” Leanna set Horc down and stretched.
“You can, but I’m staying here. I can’t leave them.”
Iris sat down. “Me, either.”
Gerald and Leanna settled on the stone. “We’re staying, too,” said Leanna.
We all looked at Horc, toddling around.
“Well?” I asked.
“I am hungry. Did we pack snacks? I must have a snack,” he said. “My teeth are lonely.”
“There are no snacks,” said Leanna. “You ate everything.”
Horc climbed into Iris’s lap and snuggled up. “Then I shall stay here with the dragons. They like snacks as much as I do.”
I snapped my fingers and my dragon melted into the brick below our feet. We gathered around the hot spot and warmed our hands. Iris sang to the dragons. I so wished I could hear her sweet voice. I knew it had to be sweet. With Iris, it couldn’t be otherwise. And the dragons liked it. They relaxed, closing their eyes.
Gerald leaned on my shoulder. “You and me, let’s figure this out.”
“I don’t know how.”
His eyes were glassy and threatened to overflow.
“But we will by morning,” I said.
“Promise?”
I shouldn’t have said it, but I did. “Promise.”
Chapter Eighteen
I WOKE UP the second the sun cast its first ray over Verona. The dragons were already awake and struggling with their bonds. I poked Gerald and he rolled over.
To the Eternal (Away From Whipplethorn Book Five) Page 25
