To the Eternal (Away From Whipplethorn Book Five)

by Hartoin, A. W.

  “Are you waiting for something?” asked Aldo.

  “She needs a poem for Penelope,” said Volotora. “It’s the oldest magic.”

  He stroked his beard and eyed her, lying on the plaid scarf he’d put her on. “Let me consider this.”

  Iris was pacing back and forth next to Penelope, acting like a nut. “I think we should wait. We should wait. Waiting is good. They’ll have a dragon healer. I know it.”

  Aldo put out a finger. “Don’t worry, little one. The tea won’t affect her condition.”

  Iris clamped her hands over her mouth. Gerald and Horc stared at her with eyebrows raised.

  I crossed my arms. “It better. Her tail’s about to split from the swelling.”

  “I meant that it won’t affect her egg,” said Aldo.

  Egg?

  I looked at Penelope’s bloated belly and then at my little sister, who stared at me with terror. “Iris!”

  She didn’t lower her hands.

  “Does Penelope have an egg?” I asked with fire swirling in my chest.

  Gerald stepped back with Horc.

  “You didn’t know?” asked Aldo.

  “No, I didn’t know. She wouldn’t be here if I did,” I said. “Iris!”

  “Yes?”

  “You knew back in Vienna. You knew and you didn’t tell me. That’s why she’s so slow. How could you?”

  “She wanted to come,” said Iris, tears flowing.

  “She should be safe in St. Stephen’s. An egg, Iris. She’s got an egg.”

  “I thought it would be okay.”

  My tears were flowing, too. Tears of rage. “It wasn’t okay. Look at her. The de’ Medicis never would’ve caught her normally. When’s she supposed to lay this egg? Will you tell me that?”

  Iris bit her lip and I wanted to scream.

  “I believe that she should’ve laid it by now,” said Aldo. “Her belly is quite distended.”

  “You mean she’s been holding it in? Dragons can do that?” I looked at Volotora. He tossed his head. “Don’t look to me. We have live young.”

  “Aldo?” I asked.

  The human shrugged. “I’ve only known a few dragons in my life and none of her species.”

  I went over and laid against her belly. I used Miss Penrose’s spell to look around in there. Sure enough, there was an egg and it was really big. Did eggs keep getting bigger if they stayed on the inside? How would she get it out? I tried to look inside the shell, but since it wasn’t part of Penelope’s body, I couldn’t. I straightened up and rubbed her lovely purple scales.

  “I have a poem for her,” said Aldo.

  I wiped my eyes. I was so tired. The last time we had an egg, it was Victory. I couldn’t handle another Victory. I put my wing in the spoon, wincing at the stinging heat, and said, “Go ahead.”

  I memorized the poem and put my hand in the tea, stirring and subtly heating it so Aldo and Dario wouldn’t notice.

  You should not have

  ripped out your image

  taken from us, from the world,

  a portion of beauty.

  What can we do

  we enemies of death,

  bent to your feet of rose,

  your breast of violet?

  When I was done, Aldo used a pair of kitchen tongs to put the tail in the cup. He pushed it down gently until it was submerged. Penelope raised her head, sighed, and then licked her belly.

  “I can’t believe you have an egg,” I said.

  She looked at me. I swear she was thinking, I don’t have to tell you anything. Dragons. What can you do?

  Then her eye went wide and the pupil contracted.

  Iris ran over. “Oh, no! Oh, no!”

  “What? What?”

  Penelope’s neck went stiff.

  Did I poison her and her egg?

  I ran to the cup and tried to pull the tail out. Scales are slippery when wet. Penelope spasmed. I looked at Iris.

  “The egg is coming!”

  That time, I did scream. I screamed a lot.

  Gerald and I raced with Volotora beside the steep Vatican wall over the heads of the humans waiting in line. I didn’t know that the Vatican was a walled city. I thought it was a building, one building. I was really wrong.

  “Let’s just fly over,” I yelled.

  “We’ll get lost,” Gerald yelled back.

  We would, but this was taking forever and Penelope was in labor. Finally, we found the entrance, an arched opening in the wall. We zipped through and flew down a cobble-stoned street, ignoring the signs for the museum. Gerald flew up ahead of the damumoto. He knew all the turns that I’d already forgotten. We dashed past a bunch of enormous stone columns into a big, open space. Gerald stopped with a jolt and Volotora nearly ran him over. The damumoto nipped him and Gerald screeched.

  “Don’t do that,” I said.

  “No biting!”

  “No sudden stops,” said Volotora. “I have four legs and no wings.”

  Clearly, Gerald didn’t see how that made a difference, but he agreed before turning slowly. We were in a kind of plaza surrounded by the big columns. A stately stone building with a huge dome peeping sat at one end.

  Bronze doors. Bronze doors.

  “I don’t see them,” I said.

  “Aldo didn’t say there were so many doors,” said Gerald.

  I had to think about Aldo’s description. “Oh. yeah. We have to face the basilica.”

  We turned and faced the stately building. It had a bunch of doors, but we weren’t interested in any of those.

  Gerald scanned to the right. “There!”

  The bronze doors were at the end of the right crescent of columns. We flew up and found the green tarnished doors were open and flanked by a couple of humans in multi-colored uniforms that looked like they were made of ribbons. They each held a spear that was taller than they were. That didn’t bother me. I doubted they were seers. What bothered me were the creatures they had perched on their shoulders.

  Gerald dashed forward.

  “Get him!” I yelled to Volotora.

  The damumoto’s head lashed out like a snake and bit Gerald’s foot, yanking him back.

  “Wait!” I yelled

  Volotora let go, snorting and spitting on the ground. “Don’t ask me to do that again. Feet are disgusting.”

  “No problem.”

  “Now my foot’s wet,” complained Gerald.

  “You’ll live,” I said. “We have to think about what to do.”

  “Come on,” said Gerald. “We have to get the healer.”

  “Aldo didn’t mention those things.”

  Gerald looked again and shrank back. “I didn’t see them. It’s the Swiss guard.”

  “What are they?”

  “Tatzelwurm.” He shivered.

  Wurm was right. The creatures had the head, chest and front legs of a vicious cat, but the back end of a serpent with shiny black scales and a three-pronged fork at the end. There weren’t any hind legs. The long tails slithered and writhed constantly.

  “What do they do?” I asked.

  “The Speciesapedia says they’re poisonous with those fork things. They’re supposed to be good at protection and repulsing spells.”

  “Great.” I ran my fingers through my hair and straightened my dress. “Do I look like a princess?”

  Volotora looked back at me. “We should’ve brought the jewels.”

  “I didn’t think about it.”

  “Me either.”

  I took a deep breath and threw back my shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  I assumed the haughty expression I’d seen on the empress’s face so many times and flew to the entrance. I’d hoped to dart through, but a black, partially translucent wall formed in my face. I stopped before bonking into the wall and turned to one of the human guards. He chewed on his lower lip and looked exceedingly bored. The two tatzelwurms weren’t bored. They bared their elongated teeth and hissed at us.

  Flames raced throu
gh my arms. I squeezed my hands into fists to control them. Volotora flew right up to the tatzelwurm on the left shoulder.

  You are royalty. You are royalty.

  “I am Her Royal Highness, Matilda, Princess Royal of the Habsburgs.”

  Another hiss.

  “I am to be received by His Holiness, the Pope.”

  Another hiss.

  “Do you understand me?”

  The tatzelwurm coiled its tail and raised itself on the coil to the height of the human’s jaw. It glared at me and said, “I hear and understand.”

  “Then let me in.”

  The tatzelwurm did something that was halfway between a laugh and a bark. “Where is your master secretary, princess?”

  “Master Gledit was poisoned in Verona,” I said. “Leanna, the imperial nanny sent to accompany me, was captured in Florence.”

  He went still and opened his jaw, sucking in short breaths.

  I looked at Gerald.

  “I think he’s smelling you,” he said.

  Ew.

  “Enough of that. Let me in. I have an emergency,” I ordered.

  Instead of stopping, the tatzelwurm threw its head back and roared. I felt the reverberations in my chest. Gerald darted behind Volotora and the human tilted his head. I thought maybe he heard it, but he just yawned.

  “Are you going to let me in or what?” I asked.

  “That is not the proper protocol,” he said.

  Protocol again. So sick of this.

  “It wasn’t protocol to imprison me in Venice and Verona, but they did it,” I said. “I have an emergency. Let me in or tell me where I can find a dragon healer.”

  “Where are your parchments of introduction?” he said with his lip raised, showing his razor-sharp tooth.

  “Haven’t you been listening? I was attacked a bunch of times.”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  I slapped my forehead. “Really? Other fairies show up and tell you they’ve been attacked?”

  “Go away. You will not be admitted.”

  I slid off Volotora’s back and got in his bizarre face. “Who’s your boss? I want to see your boss.”

  It did the barking laugh thing again. Beyond him, the barrier flexed and then vanished. A wood fairy wearing black robes trimmed in red flew through with four attendants wearing plain brown cassocks. They were flanked by some other fairies with large dragonfly-type wings. They wore uniforms that matched the human guard. I felt the intentions coming off them. They weren’t good. I motioned to Gerald to back up and he did. Volotora didn’t back up. Like me, he wasn’t the type.

  The group seemed like they would fly past, but they stopped between the human guards. The black-robed leader looked to the left and then he turned to the right. He looked past me at the guard. “Gragtis?

  Gragtis gestured at me with a paw. The entire group faced me. The leader looked me up and down. My hands went automatically to my hips.

  “Who do you claim to be?” he asked with a lifted lip.

  “I am Her Royal Highness Princess Matilda,” I said. “Who are you?”

  He looked me up and down again. Maybe he thought it was intimidating. It wasn’t.

  “Are you going to answer or what?” I asked.

  “I am Cardinal Roscoe.” He made a shooing gesture at me. “You will leave.”

  Fire swirled in my chest and I swallowed hard. “I need a dragon healer right now. This instant!”

  “How dare you…you…urchin!”

  “You have to let me in! It’s protocol!” I yelled.

  Something switched in his eyes. “There is no proof that you are Her Highness. That is the end of this discussion.”

  I flew up to him and lit my index finger in front of his face. “This is my proof.”

  The cardinal recoiled. “I…I…”

  “You know who I am,” I said. “Let me in. It’s an emergency. I need a healer for my dragon.”

  He and the horrified priests backed away through the doors, their hands in the prayer position. “You’ll have to find a healer elsewhere. Go away. Go.”

  Volotora galloped past them and blocked their way. Flames jetted from his nostrils as he stamped his feet so that the clouds of glitter that made up his road filled the air. “You will hear Matilda!”

  The cardinal and priests gagged and staggered around in the air.

  The cardinal looked at me.

  “Please,” I said.

  For a second, I thought he would help, but then he nodded at the tatzelwurm and the black shield went back up, dividing us from Volotora. I screamed and shot fireballs at the barrier. They bounced off like rubber balls. The tatzelwurms went crazy, snarling and snapping at us.

  The guards that the cardinal left behind pointed their spears at us and flew forward.

  “If you attack me, I will attack you and you won’t like it,” I said. “Release our damumoto!”

  Gragtis got ready to throw his spear. “His Holiness has spoken. There is nothing for you here.”

  “His Holiness hasn’t said a thing. I want to talk to him.”

  “That will never happen. He will be protected from you.”

  “He’s supposed to be receiving me,” I said.

  Gragtis snarled. “You will not be received.”

  “Release Volotora!”

  “He may be released, if you leave quietly,” said the tatzelwurm.

  Gerald took my hand and squeezed. He was right. It was hopeless, unless I was willing to attack. I wasn’t and I couldn’t get through the barrier anyway.

  I flew up to Gragtis and got in his snout. “No is my least favorite word. I’ll be back.” I let loose a dazzling display of sparks toward the guards. I had to. I couldn’t resist. Then I took Gerald’s hand and said, “This isn’t over.”

  “It seems over.”

  “You’re not planning on giving up, are you?” I asked.

  Gerald stiffened. “Never. I’m a Whipplethorn.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  WE FLEW INTO Aldo’s place. I don’t know about Gerald, but I was so nervous, I was sweating. Penelope had been in bad shape. I totally expected her to be worse and we didn’t find a dragon healer. What could I say? I’d failed her. Big time.

  We flew to the back room, where the door had been propped open for us. Ovid had perched on a box of canned tomatoes and Percy lay beside Penelope with his wing over her body. Iris knelt at Penelope’s head. The dragon was still and my heart sank. I didn’t see an egg. “Iris?”

  My sister turned and jumped. “Did you get the healer? What did the pope say? Where’s Volotora?”

  “Nothing. They wouldn’t let me in and they kidnapped Volotora,” I said. “How’s Penelope?”

  “Kidnapped?”

  “We’ll get him back! How’s Penelope?” I yelled it. I didn’t mean to, but I did.

  Iris jumped up and backed away. “Okay for now. Aldo got his regular healer, Suzanne, and she did a spell to stop the labor. She went out to get some supplies. Why wouldn’t they let you in? The empress told them you were coming.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on. There was a cardinal and he…he was afraid of me.”

  Horc toddled out from behind Penelope’s tail. “Did you threaten him with fire?”

  “I did, but he was afraid before that. My fire scared him, but he wasn’t surprised.” I checked Penelope’s tail. It’d been taken out of the tea and wrapped. It was wrapped up in linen, but it seemed less swollen. I took a sniff. Brown linseed poultice. Suzanne knew what she was doing. “Seems better.”

  “If you hadn’t done anything yet, why was he afraid?” asked Iris.

  “Matilda can be quite fierce, even without her fire,” said Horc. “She does not frighten me, as I am her brother and she feeds me.”

  “I’m not scary,” I said. Everyone looked at me, including Percy, who snorted fire. “What? I don’t do anything.”

  “We know your capabilities. That is all,” sa
id Horc. “Here comes, Aldo. He will now feed me something called porchetta. I will consent to eat it.”

  “I bet you will,” I said. “Where’s Victory?”

  Victory walked out from behind Percy’s horns.

  “Why are you always hiding?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t hiding, Aunt,” said Victory.

  “Anyway, how’s she feeling?”

  “Relaxed. Suzanne’s spell helped, but the egg will want to come again.”

  Aldo came through a swinging door at the back of the room. He carried a parcel of white folded paper and had a fairy on his shoulder. She was about Mom’s age and a species I’d never seen before. She had ruddy terra cotta-colored skin, flowing green hair, and wings that looked like glistening membranes. She spread them to fly over and I could see multi-colored veins threading through them.

  Aldo laid down the paper dish and the smell of roasted pork rolled over me. It was nauseating. Horc waddled over and tried to gnaw his way through the paper.

  “Have a little dignity,” I said, pulling him back.

  “Meat.”

  I sighed. “Aldo, can he have some?”

  The human chuckled. “I have always loved the enthusiasm of the spriggan species. Toss him in.”

  I picked Horc up and he tucked his arms and legs in, becoming very round, and I tossed him over the side. I didn’t hear how he landed, of course, but bits of meat hit me in the head so I assumed he made it alright.

  The fairy landed next to me and extended her hand. “Matilda, I’ve heard so much about you. Suzanne. I’m the neighborhood healer.”

  Not too much, I hope.

  “Thank you for helping Penelope,” I said.

  “My pleasure. I see you don’t have the papal healer. I’m not surprised.”

  Suzanne explained that the papal healer was the Pope’s grandniece, Margarite. Neither she nor the pope had been seen in public since Christmas mass. There were a lot of rumors floating around that the pope was very sick. He was elderly and his father had died at around the same age of an infection in his liver. Some fairies were prone to it. The Vatican denied that he was ill, only taking a break, but none of the Pope’s family, who lived in the Papal residence, had been out either. It was like the whole family shut down. Margarite was a generous healer, not like the vermillion in France. She took patients of every class. At least she had before Christmas and Pope Joyous supported it.