Bentha parried a bissabova’s sword. “I see her, my lady. The guard.”
Iris was still in the tatzelwurm’s spell and being dragged away by the papal guard in the confusion. Tatzelwurms were advancing on us. The Reich’s Fae were wiping out the de’ Medicis. The bissabova ran at The Commander’s troops. I didn’t know where Gerald and Horc were. We were going to be overwhelmed. They were all fighting each other, but eventually they’d remember what they came for.
I shot a jet of flame at a bissabova who tried to snatch Victory out of the air, mid-leap. The sea serpent twisted to avoid my attack and missed the little phalanx, who rebounded off a big phalanx’s shield to land on the bissabova’s head. He cut off a chunk of lacy fin before leaping away with it held up like a trophy. “I am Victory!”
The Commander popped off his shell and took the head off Victory’s bissabova. “My boy,” he said.
I knocked a de’ Medici out of the air with a well-placed bolt to the butt. “Yeah, sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. I was a boy once. I made him look calm.”
If that was calm, I was sorry for The Commander’s mother. Victory leapt into the air and bit a papal guard on the leg, causing him to crash into a column.
“Let’s take ‘em, boys!” ordered The Commander. The rest of his troops that he’d been holding in reserve entered the fray. The phalanx were good, but they weren’t that good. We weren’t going to take anybody. We were outnumbered in a huge way. Maybe if we had the dragons. The dragons. Penelope! I’d forgotten what I’d come for.
A group of tatzelwurms slithered through the melee, doing that chuffing thing, smelling.
“Bentha!”
He thrust his sword through a bissabova tail and backed up to me, saying over his shoulder. “My lady?”
“Let them take me.”
He held his sword up. “Never!”
“No, seriously. I have to get to Pope Joyous. It’s the only way.”
“I will break down the walls so that—”
“Never mind that. Let the tatzelwurms take me.”
The Reich’s Fae broke through the Papal guard, making way for the wasserquelle. They saw me and shot jets of water in my direction. I ducked behind Bentha and escaped the worst of it. I ran back, right at the tatzelwurms. For a second, they shrank back. I ducked and a spear missed me by an eighth of an inch. I ran right into them on purpose. The world went fuzzy and grey. They had me. I was coiled into a tatzelwurm’s tail and dragged away, exactly the way I wanted.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I HAD NO idea where I was. At some point, the tatzelwurm let go of me and I was being flown off. Through the grey of the spell, I could make out a pair of flyers beside me. They were carrying something. I hoped it was Iris, but I couldn’t tell.
“Iris,” I yelled. “It’s okay!”
Somebody kicked me. Maybe that meant I was right.
We flew for a while, going outside for part of the time and then going inside again. It lasted so long I was starting to go crazy. Silence was one thing. I was used to that. Not being able to see what was going on was terrible. I depended on my sight so much. It filled in the gaps for me. I’d never been so isolated.
We swooped around a corner. I felt like we passed through something, but I didn’t see anything. Then I was dropped. Probably a whole inch and the landing was incredibly painful. My wing had been doing pretty good. Not any more.
There were figures all around me, but then they backed off. It felt like my moment. I stood up in the spell. It was a tight fit, but I did it. I closed my eyes and fire swirled inside me, a tornado of my will. I let it go. It exploded and blasted the spell apart.
I opened my eyes and I was the only one standing. Several cardinals, officials, and papal guards lay on the surface of a beautiful desk with an inlaid design of flowers and birds in several kinds of wood. A feeling of dread and panic came over me. I had to squeeze my hands into fists so they wouldn’t shake. I knew that misery well. It was the feeling of evil. There were no horen on the desk and no Icelandic flutterflanges either. If another species could make me feel that way, it was a very bad thing.
Something touched my calves. I found Iris still inside her protection spell behind me.
“Iris!” I tried to rip it, burn it, and tear it apart, but I couldn’t make a dent.
The fairies I’d knocked out started to stir. I formed a blue fireball and looked around. We were in a gorgeous room with a ceiling that had to be twenty feet high. The floor was wood in a herringbone pattern. Every other surface, including the ceiling, was richly painted in biblical scenes. Too bad Gerald wasn’t there. The walls were covered in bookshelves and the manuscripts looked really old. It kinda seemed like an office, but the fanciest office I’d ever seen.
A cardinal pushed himself upright. “Seize her!”
I tossed the fireball in the air and caught it. “I don’t think you want to do that.”
The rest of the group sat up, including a wzlot, dressed in white. The cardinals helped him to his feet and smoothed his luminous grey wings.
“Pope Joyous?” I asked.
“Guards!” yelled a priest.
The five guards ran in front of the pope and pointed their swords at me.
“Who told you to bring her through the barrier?” asked one cardinal.
A guard turned so I couldn’t see his answer.
“Get her out,” said another priest.
I grew my fireball and tossed it high above my head, where it hovered. “I’m not going anywhere. This is exactly where I want to be.”
They stared at me in horror. I was a little insulted. Sure, I was a kindler, but they attacked me, not the other way around.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said. “I need your help.”
Pope Joyous pushed his way past the cardinals. He was afraid. I could tell. But he stood strong, his grey eyes fixed on me. “I can’t help you. Go with God.”
“You don’t even know what I want.”
“I can’t help you. Please leave us in peace.”
I felt like I was supposed to obey, but obeying has never been my thing. “I’m not leaving. You know who I am. Empress Marie Karoline sent me. You have to receive me.”
“You have no proof of your identity.”
“Give me a break.” I grabbed my fireball out of the air. “This is my proof. The empress told you I’m a kindler.”
“I can’t help you. Please leave,” said the pope. “I beg you.”
There was something in his eyes when he said the word “beg”. It wasn’t just a phrase. He meant it. He was scared for more than himself. It was his bad luck that I wasn’t there for myself.
“I would if I could, but I can’t, so I won’t,” I said. “Release my sister, your future cardinal.”
A sluagh cardinal straightened his robe and flicked out his tongue, smelling me. It was gross. I hate when I get smelled by tongue, especially by someone who reeked of overcooked cabbage. “She wasn’t seen.”
“And how do you know that?”
They shuffled their feet.
“The cardinals in St. Peter’s did a spell to block the human pope’s sight. I call that cheating. Why would you want to block Iris anyway? She’s perfect and the cardinal picked her.”
More feet shuffling.
An ashray priest stepped forward. “The tatzelwurm will come. You should go now while you still can.”
“Your tatzelwurms are busy getting killed,” I said.
The group started shouting and freaking out. Then the pope raised his hand. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that, thanks to you, there’s a battle going on and it’s your fault.”
“Corius!” shouted the sluagh. “Is this true?”
A guard nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. She has phalanx and the Veronese on her side.”
The cardinals blanched. “Phalanx in the eternal city!”
“Lord, preserve us!”
“How many?”
“Who’s winning?”
“Your Holiness!”
“Run!”
I watched their panic with some satisfaction, although I didn’t get what it was all about. They were against me before I arrived. It must’ve been on the Pope’s orders that I be stopped from getting to Rome, but why?
The freaking out got old after a minute. I yelled, “Release my sister!”
“No, Your Holiness,” said the ashray. “She is our bargaining chip.”
Anger overwhelmed me and orange flames burst from my hands. “She’s a child. Not a chip. Release her or you’ll regret it, ashray!”
The group yelled, “No!” But the pope waved his hand and the spell vanished. Iris stood up and brushed the wrinkles from her dress. She took my hand and a feeling of wellbeing came over me. Just Iris and me. This was the way I wanted it. This was the way it was supposed to be.
Iris smiled up at me and said to Pope Joyous, “Thank you, Your Holiness. I didn’t deserve that.”
Pope Joyous blushed. He actually blushed. He knew what they were doing was wrong, but he was still doing it.
“Your Holiness,” said Iris. “What Matilda said is true. We only want help. Our parents and friends are prisoners in France. So are our humans. You can help. The rebellion wants you to recognize them. You can negotiate for their freedom.”
“My child,” said the pope, “I cannot side with murderers and thugs.”
“They’re all murderers and thugs. We were at the Notre Dame massacre last year.” I swallowed hard. The bad feeling was getting worse.
“The royal family—”
“Ordered women and children killed,” I interrupted.
A wood fairy cardinal reddened and clenched his fists. “The phalanx hold your family. Yet you fight with them.”
“The French phalanx have our parents. Those are American phalanx in the basilica.”
His eyes went wide. “How did they get here?”
“Beats me,” I said. “Are you going to help us?”
“It saddens me to say that I cannot,” said the pope.
Iris began to cry and my flames grew. “The empress said you have to help. My parents are royalty through me and Iris is going to be your cardinal.”
“She isn’t,” said the sluagh.
I turned on him and he stumbled backward. “She will! It’s your stupid protocol. Helping one of your own.”
“You must go,” said the pope.
“No! The empress wants you to intervene for the king and queen. You can do it for us, too,” I said.
Pope Joyous’s face fell. “My opinion on the revolution is well known. It hasn’t helped.”
My flames went out and Iris grabbed my hand. “What does he mean?”
I looked at them. The pope and his people were overcome with sorrow.
“Well?” I asked.
“The king has gone on trial,” said sluagh cardinal. “The queen will soon follow.”
Iris clasped her hands to her chest. “On trial for what?”
“Crimes against the people.”
Pope Joyous raised his hand again. “You see, I cannot help. They don’t care what I think. You must go.”
“You’ve given up before you’ve tried. You can readmit the phalanx to Rome and the Vatican. That would help,” I said.
“No, I can’t do that. Go now.”
I couldn’t think of another argument. Iris was crying and I wanted to kick someone. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Why wouldn’t he help us? The empress thought he would. All he wanted was to get rid of me. I had to think.
Iris squeezed my hand and choked out, “Penelope.”
“Fine. I’ll go for now, but I want to see Margarite first.”
The entire group gasped.
“No, no,” stuttered the pope. “That is not possible.”
No, he’s more scared. What is going on?
“I think it is,” I said.
Pope Joyous’s face hardened. “Guards, remove them!”
I exploded my fire above the desk, dramatic as I could make it. I even heard a hint of the clamor it made. The pope and his entourage clapped their hands over their ears.
I snapped my fingers and it all disappeared. “I want to see Margarite right now.”
“She…she isn’t here,” said the pope. He was lying. I was sure of it. And the thought of me meeting Margarite terrified him.
“But she’s a dragon healer and we have a sick dragon,” said Iris. “She has to help. Penelope’s egg is stuck.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said the pope. “Margarite isn’t here.”
“You’re lying,” I said.
“How dare you,” said the sluagh.
I swept my arm in front of me, shooting a dazzling display of silver sparks in an arch toward him. Mom would call it an unseemly display of temper. Temper didn’t cover it. Penelope could die. “How dare you! We came to you for help. You’ve had us attacked and imprisoned. The seers that brought us to Italy are still being held in Venice with most of our damumoto. The de’ Medicis kidnapped our nanny. Somebody poisoned my master secretary. What do you say to that?”
The cardinals’ jaws had dropped.
“Your Holiness,” said the sluagh, “surely, this is an exaggeration.”
Pope Joyous ignored him. “I cannot help you. Margarite cannot help you.”
Several priests exchanged looks. One in a rough cassock held tight to the large wooden cross around his neck and said, “Your Holiness, if what the princess says is true, we have a duty to—”
“I know my duty,” said the pope. “They will leave and never return.”
“That’s not going to happen. Penelope is our family,” I said. “You need our dragons with The Reich’s Fae in the city. Help us and we’ll help you.”
That revved them up good.
“Phalanx and The Reich’s Fae,” said the sluagh. “It cannot be. Our troops—”
“Are having a bad day.”
“Leave!” yelled the pope.
“Your Holiness!” said the priests in chorus.
Iris squeezed my hand hard. “Someone’s coming. They’re running.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Desk.”
Sure enough, off to the right of the crowd, a door opened in a drawer of the desk. A fresh wave of dread came over me. I braced myself for the worst, but the worst didn’t come. A lovely wzlot with luminous wings stepped out. Margarite.
“Your Holiness, the noise is agitating—” She saw me and froze.
“Margarite!”
She slammed the door. I didn’t think about it. I ran for the door, blasting it open and running through the flames. Margarite disappeared around a corner down a hall. I sprinted after her. “I need your help! Please!”
She didn’t stop. I caught another glimpse of her as she pulled a ceiling-high shelf off the wall to block my path and ran as the shelf crashed over. I blasted the mess out of the way and kept going, gaining ground. She pulled down more shelves and threw foxfire fungus at me. I didn’t stop. I never stop.
Margarite sprinted for a set of odd double doors at the end of the hall. They were reinforced with metal and had a thick chain looped around the handles. She lunged at the padlock dangling from the chain. The chain fell to the floor and she yanked the right door open, slipping through and slamming it shut. But she wasn’t lucky. She tripped on the chain and it got caught in the opening. The door couldn’t close. I got my fingers in the opening and wrenched it open.
The large room behind the doors was reinforced with the same metal. Margarite ran across the room to the only furniture in it, an enormous wooden sculpture decorated with cherubs and twisting trees up to a canopy of delicate lace.
“Margarite!” I yelled, stopping halfway across the room. The bad feeling was so thick, it was like walking through soup. I could feel the anger on my skin.
She faced me and spread her arms out. “No!”
“No what? Please, I have to—�
��
Margarite dropped to her knees, weeping and clasping her hands in front of her, pleading, “I beg you. I won’t let anything happen. I’ll do anything. Please.”
I stared at her until something caught my eye on the sculpture. A small hand came over the edge. I gasped and stepped back. On the tips of the delicate, plump little fingers were the claws of a horen.
The room filled up behind me. I felt them there, but I couldn’t move. A baby horen. The world would expect me to do something. I expected me to do something. What had Jacqueline said? Venomous at birth, but not at full power. Weak. Easy to defeat. A baby. Evil.
I felt sick and put my hand over my mouth to hold back my breakfast. Iris walked in front of me, dropped to her knees in front of Margarite, and took the wzlot’s shaking hands. They bent forward and touched their foreheads, praying, I think.
Pope Joyous came up next to me and watched them with profound sadness. I wanted to say something, but my head and heart were in a whirl. Another little hand grabbed onto the edge of the crib. Venom dripped off two of the claws, scorching the wood and filling the air with the scent of a burning wood. It competed with the new feeling in the air. A feeling that I knew well, better even than the evil and dread of the horen. It was the feeling of love and generosity coming from my little sister. The pope touched my hand. “She will be seen.”
“I know. Iris is special,” I said.
“I see that now. The child is Angelica. She was born on Christmas. Margarite…”
“Is her mother,” I finished for him. “I have a mother. I recognize the signs. Fierce, a bit crazy with impaired vision.”
“Impaired vision? Margarite knows that Angelica is a horen. She knows what she will do.” He got choked up and put his hands over his eyes.
“Knowing isn’t enough. Not with a mom. My mom knows what I am, but she had to see me fight to get the real picture.”
He didn’t answer and I left him, walking around Iris and Margarite to the crib. I looked down into the most beautiful child’s face that I had ever beheld. She was a typical horen—perfect features, fine blonde hair, and cat’s eyes. The pupils contracted when she saw me. A spit bubble popped on her rosebud lips and she let go of the crib, plopping down on her bottom and wailing. I reached for her automatically, but Margarite knocked me out of the way. “No! You’ll have to kill me first.” She got between me and her lethal baby. Typical mom. I smiled at the thought, but she took it as a threat. “Go ahead, kindler. I’m not afraid.”
To the Eternal (Away From Whipplethorn Book Five) Page 34
