I kept my eyes on his as his face elongated and his eyes narrowed, turning to dark golden slits inside a midnight-colored face. He didn’t blink, just kept staring until the flames died away and he stood there in full dragon form.
Rhys folded low and then backed down the stairs toward the army. “Men!” he called out. “Prepare to march.”
There was a sharp crack as all the soldiers clicked their heels together simultaneously, and I watched as they began to form two long lines.
There was a creak, and then I heard the sound of horses stamping and snorting. The supply wagons began to roll toward the gates, Woodsmen with bows on their backs surrounding the wagons. Two other dragons stepped forward, and my best friends scurried down the stairs to scramble onto their backs. Winston lowered his head enough for me to climb onto his back. I moved to grab his spikes to pull myself up when I felt tight hands grip my waist.
“I can—” I turned my head to see my father behind me, lifting me up so that I could climb onto my Crown Prince’s back.
“Be careful up there. It’s a long fall if you slip,” he said quietly, not meeting my eyes.
“I know.” I remembered the first battle of the Crystal Palace and what it had felt like to tumble off the back of a dragon. I swallowed and tried not to let my hands shake as they gripped Winston’s neck.
“Be careful,” John repeated.
“You, too.” I wanted to reach out and hug him, but I didn’t know how that would be taken. We didn’t really have much of a father-daughter relationship going, and besides that, John didn’t seem like he was much of a hugger unless I was in mortal danger. Maybe it was better if we didn’t touch at all.
“Here.” He pulled the combs he’d given me earlier out of his pouch and tucked them into my hair, just above the band of my crown. “Your maid gave them to me.”
“I didn’t want to risk losing them. If we get into a battle, I mean.”
“And I don’t want to risk losing you,” he said, holding my gaze. “You may be the Golden Rose of Nerissette, but you’re also a daughter of the Leavenwald, and our magic may help protect you when the magic of the Pleiades fails.”
He stepped away, and I watched as he swallowed, letting his eyes travel down the length of Winston’s side. “All right, then.” He started to step away, his eyes still trained on me.
I felt my chest clench, and I flung a hand out on instinct. “John?”
He sprinted the three steps toward me, and I leaned down to wrap my arms around his neck, squeezing. “Be safe, daughter of mine.”
“I will,” I said with a nod against him.
Then he whispered in my ear. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“I…” I stared at him. What was I supposed to say? To do? We barely knew each other, but he was my father and he could die. Should I say I loved him, though just in case?
“It’s okay.” John smiled at me and then pulled back. He smacked Winston on the flank. “I’m even rather fond of you, Lizard Boy. Don’t do anything stupid, though, and make me regret admitting that.”
I smiled at my father before turning back to my army, now standing at attention and watching the three of us. Right. Time to quit having a family reunion and get back to what we’d been doing.
I pulled my sword out of its scabbard and lifted it. “People of Nerissette, allies, friends.” I swallowed. “To war!”
“To war!” The army bellowed back at me loud enough that I could hear the palace’s few remaining windows shake. The dragons roared again in agreement, and I felt Winston’s muscles tense a moment before he launched himself into the air.
Chapter Fifteen
Four hours later I saw a flag waving in the distance with a broken crown on it. “Win.”
He grunted, and Ardere and Kitsuna’s mother fell in behind him, flying in a V formation as we got closer.
Coming down the road toward us was a small squad of soldiers. Fifteen warriors at most. Two young men, each holding a flag—one holding the Broken Crown of Bathune and the other carrying a plain, white flag—were in the front. Between them was an older man with long, white hair wearing a silver robe. A wizard. Suddenly their lack of soldiers was a lot less reassuring. Wizards could do as much damage as a hundred men if they had surprise on their side.
“Your Majesty,” a loud voice cracked through the air, and I peered over Winston’s shoulder at the wizard who was using his hands like some sort of magical megaphone. “I come to you today to discuss a surrender.”
“Surrender?” I looked over my shoulder at Kitsuna. “We haven’t even crossed into Bathune yet, and they want to surrender?”
“It’s a trap,” she said quietly.
“What if it’s not?” Mercedes asked. “What if your aunt has suddenly realized that you were serious about marching into her country and taking her throne? She could be surrendering just to keep you from killing her.”
“It’s a trap,” Kitsuna insisted. “We should take them prisoner and keep going.”
“They’re flying a flag of truce.” Mercedes pointed to the white flag. “We can’t attack them.”
“Yes, we can,” Kitsuna said. “They destroyed Dramera and Sorcastia, and they killed your entire Order when they set the Forest of Ananth on fire.”
“And if we can stop this before anyone else dies?” Mercedes fixed her eyes on mine. “The possibility of that is enough to make me swallow down all my hate for your aunt and tell you to meet with the wizard she sent.”
“Okay.” I nodded and then prodded Winston with my left foot. “Take us down.”
“Wait,” Kitsuna said.
“What?” I looked at her. “Mercedes is right. I’m all for revenge, but I won’t ask people to die when I can convince my aunt to surrender her throne to me without a fight.”
“I know.” Kitsuna nodded. “I know. You’ve got to talk to him even if it is stupid. I just think you might want to change your shirt before you go.”
“What?” I looked down at my mud-smeared tunic.
“Send John and a contingent of Woodsmen to meet him,” she said. “Let him feel this wizard out and find out what he wants while you wash your face and change into clean clothes. Then you can meet with him and accept his surrender.”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Yes.” She nodded at me. “That’s why I made you pack a second set of clothes. You can’t accept your aunt’s surrender with mud on your shirt. Not if you want people to take you seriously as a queen. Besides, do you want all the royal portraits of this moment—for all time—to center around a young queen wearing a filthy hunting shirt with smears of mud on her cheeks and her hair standing up in all directions like she’s been sleeping in the woods for the past week?”
“Fine.” I nudged Winston with my heel again. “Take us down so I can wash my face and put on a clean shirt. It’s not like I’ve got a war to fight or anything.”
The dragon beneath me snorted as he dipped lower, moving to the back of my army’s line so he had room to land without squishing anyone beneath his claws.
“Your Majesty?” John asked from his place next to one of the supply wagons at the very back of the line.
“There’s a wizard up ahead. He’s got soldiers with him, and they’re flying the flag of Bathune.”
“How many soldiers?” John asked as he slid his bow off his back.
“Not many,” Kitsuna said. “He’s also flying a white flag.”
“It’s Valkorn of Itasca,” Rhys called out. I turned to watch as he jogged toward us. “He wants to arrange Bavasama’s surrender.”
“What?” John asked.
“They’ve overthrown her,” Rhys said. “The wizards. They’ve overthrown Bavasama and taken the throne. Now they’re willing to hand her over to Allie.”
“And in return?” I asked.
“In return we don’t take the army over the border. They want Bathune, and in return they’ll give you Bavasama and a chance at peace.”
“And do you believe hi
m?” Kitsuna asked as she slid off her mother’s back.
“No,” Rhys admitted as I slipped off Winston and onto the ground. “But if they’re willing to hand over your aunt? I think we have to hear them out.”
“I agree.” I said.
“So do I,” Mercedes added.
“So how do you want to handle this?” John asked me.
I turned to look at Winston. “I want you to shift back into your human form while I change my shirt and wipe the mud off my face. John, you scare up a group of nobles to go along for the peace talks. Sort of a shock and awe thing.”
“I’ll get you a battalion of soldiers to act as bodyguards, too,” Rhys said.
“And then?” Mercedes asked.
“Then, if we’re lucky, we’ll be able to end this. Or at least delay another war until we’ve had time to rebuild a bit. Now if you’ll excuse me”—I rolled my eyes—“I’m told I need a clean shirt.”
…
“So what do we know about this guy?” I asked John as we picked our way through the deep forest fifteen minutes later. We were surrounded by a dozen soldiers, the rest of the nobles trailing behind us.
“Valkorn of Itasca?” Rhys didn’t turn from his place at the front of the soldiers. “Not much.”
“He was Grand Vizier under Bavasama’s mother,” John added.
I looked over at him, confused.
“He was her version of the Fate Maker,” he explained. “He performed the rites necessary for what was once the combined lands of Nerissette and Bathune to honor the Pleiades, and he administered the will of Fate.”
“So what happened?” Kitsuna asked from my other side, her hand on her sword as she glanced around the forest, her shoulders tense.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She stopped and turned to stare at John. “You said he was the former Grand Vizier. He was in charge during the rule of Queen Allie’s grandmother, Bavamorn. That means he’s not still Grand Vizier, is he?”
“Bavasama’s Prince Consort is now Grand Vizier of Bathune,” Tevian, the leader of the dragons, said from behind us. “Damarock of Sevai. He studied under the same wizard as the Fate Maker. They trained together, in fact.”
“So they were friends?” I asked.
“No.” Tevian hurried forward to walk along beside us and then dropped his voice. “But they do share the same desire for power, so if I were you, I would be wary.”
“What about Valkorn of Itasca? What is he now that he’s no longer the guy in charge of the magical people in Bathune?” I asked.
“He’s still a member of Bavasama’s council—an elder, actually. Most people thought he would have retired and let his son take his place on the council, but right now that’s not an option.”
“Why not?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Well, Valdoc of Itasca can’t take his father’s place on the council,” Tevian said, not meeting my eyes.
“Why?” I glanced over at him.
“Rumors are that Valdoc of Itasca died from the wounds your bodyguard gave him at Dramera, Your Majesty,” Tevian said. “You may remember she tried to carve him open with a sword?”
“Oh.” I swallowed and looked over at Kitsuna, who’d gone pale. “He was the wizard who followed us on raven back.”
“He was,” Tevian said.
“That wizard came to Dramera to assassinate our queen,” Kitsuna said, her voice steady. “I did what I had to in order to protect her.”
“Well.” I sighed. “Let’s hope Valkorn doesn’t let that get in the way of brokering this peace deal.”
“He won’t,” Rhys said. “After all, they were the ones that came to us looking for peace. They aren’t going to screw it up now over something that none of us can change.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said quietly. “Otherwise, we just might be walking into an ambush.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Halt!” Rhys called out a few moments later. We all froze.
I looked at him. “Rhys?”
“While you were getting your hair done”—Rhys smirked at me as I scowled—“I met with the leader of the battalion escorting Valkorn. We’ve agreed that the two of you will meet without soldiers.”
“But—” I swallowed and turned to look at the rest of the nobles.
“Since he’s a wizard, you’ll be allowed to take one body-guard and your sword,” Rhys said. “Anything else is seen as an act of aggression.”
“And bringing an army along isn’t?” I asked.
“Allie.” John looked at me. “There are rules to this sort of thing.”
“Fine. Right. Okay.” I nodded. “I can do this.”
“I’ll go with you,” John said.
“No.” Kitsuna stepped forward. “I will. I’m Her Majesty’s bodyguard. This is my responsibility.”
“I’ll go alone.” I pushed past Rhys’s soldiers and started toward the clearing, shoving branches out of my way. “I’m not going to let him think I’m too scared to deal with him on my own.”
Instead of waiting for someone to try and stop me, I stepped into the clearing and found myself face-to-face with the wizard Valkorn of Itasca—or rather face-to-beard-and-large-floppy-hat.
“Your Majesty?” The tiny wizard bowed low, his white beard scraping the ground. “I am Valkorn, advisor to the great and just Queen Bavasama of Bathune. I’ve been sent here today to arrange for the removal of your troops from our land.”
“I know,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady and not to let him see how on edge I really was. Sure, the guy was goofy looking, but he was a wizard, and in the past year I’d learned that even the goofiest wizard could be deadly. “You’ve been sent by the wizards of Bathune to negotiate the surrender of my aunt, Bavasama, Empress of Bathune.”
“Not as such.” Valkorn stepped forward, crowding me.
“What?”
“I am sorry, Your Majesty, but peace isn’t what we have in mind.” His hand shot out, lightning fast, and he grabbed my arm tight as sparks raced along my skin. The world around me went dark, and I could hear the sound of Kitsuna and Winston both screaming for just an instant before the world exploded, and then there was nothing but the sound of air flying past me and the sharp crack of the world splitting in two. The world blurred as I fell, and I flung my arms out, trying to grab onto something as Valkorn kept my arm clamped tightly in his grip.
There was a flash of dazzling green light, and then I could feel my body again as it rushed face-first toward a shiny black floor that had been polished so much that I could see myself falling toward it as if it were a mirror.
My body hit first, and I had just enough sense to jerk my head back, trying to keep from planting my face against the cold stone, as well. I rolled over, taking in the black marble walls that surrounded me, the blood-red tapestries hanging from the walls, and the elaborate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. There, at the far end of the room, was a dais with an ornate, black throne sitting upon it, the broken crown of Bathune worked in gold thread on an enormous black tapestry.
Valkorn landed beside me, jerking my arm upward, and I turned to see him standing above me, glaring at me as I huddled on the floor beside him. “Up,” he snarled, tugging on my arm again. “Get up and show proper deference to a queen.”
“Oh, shut up.” I pushed myself up to my knees, grabbing for my sword.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, young one,” my aunt said, her voice bitter. “It’s not likely you’ll be able to do more than pull the blade from its scabbard before my men cut you down.”
“Bavasama,” I croaked as I managed to pull myself to a stand. I glared at the tall, skinny woman with frizzy red waves who sat on the raised black throne in front of me.
“Alicia.” She gave me a tight smile. “Do you know how much you look like your mother right now? Identical. You and darling, flawless Preethana, two perfectly polite princesses, both of you huddled on the floor, waiting for me to destroy you. Completely undeserving of t
he crown placed on your head.”
“My mother was a good woman,” I said. “She would have been a good queen if you wouldn’t have kidnapped her and put yourself on her throne instead.”
“My baby sister was a wimp. She got what was coming to her when I locked her in that tower. She was too weak to sit on the Rose Throne. Too stupid.”
“No, she wasn’t. She was good and sweet and smart. She wasn’t weak and neither am I.”
“Yes, she was.” She pushed herself up from her throne and came toward us. “Such a terribly weak princess. But you? You’re not, I agree. You inherited my mother’s strength. Her convictions. Her stubbornness. I can tell. I used to see the look that’s in your eyes all the time when I looked at her. You’re so much like Bavamorn you could be her reincarnated. That’s what’s going to make this so much fun.”
“My army is marching toward your palace as we speak, and they intend to set fire to everything in their path. Thousands of soldiers. Dragons. Nymphs. All united for the sole purpose of deposing you and putting me on your throne. How exactly is that fun for you?”
“It’s true that you have an enormously large army.” Bavasama nodded. Her eyes focused off to the side before she brought them back to stare at me. “But I have you.”
“And what do you think that’s going to get you?” I spat.
“I think you’ll be amazed at what your Prince Consort and lord general agree to when it comes right down to it. What John of Leavenwald will be willing to give up to save his only remaining child. After all, Bathune isn’t that rich a prize, especially not if they have to sacrifice their queen to get it.”
“They won’t surrender to you.” I lifted my chin higher and glared down my nose at her. “None of them will. Not Winston or Rhys or even John.”
“They will.” She stepped back. “It’s their only choice—your only choice. You surrender Nerissette to me and live as my servant queen or I put your head on the block and remove it.”
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