by Shelby Bach
“Never say it again,” Chase snapped.
“I’m sorry. It sounded funnier in my head,” I said, and I meant it. But suddenly, I realized why Chase’s mother had said what she did about Cal. Sometimes, you need to say the thing you can’t stop thinking about, especially if it’s terrible.
Waiting to talk to Mom was a mistake. Back in our apartment, she was totally out of celebration mode. I wasn’t even sure she remembered it was my birthday. All she wanted to discuss was the promise I refused to make. The day was catching up with me. I kept yawning, wishing I could sneak off to bed like Amy had.
“Rory, these Fey people are so powerful, and they didn’t stand a chance. I’m glad your friend came back safely, but you guys are so young.” Mom was gearing up for another rant—something about how I was just a kid, how it wasn’t my responsibility, how I shouldn’t put myself in danger, etc. I had almost all her speeches memorized.
I was sick of getting yelled at for doing the best I could. Mom opened her mouth again. I didn’t care. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t lie to you. Now you’re just punishing me for not telling you what you want to hear.”
She stared at me for a second, completely shocked. Then I ran into my room and slammed the door behind me. It was the only way I could have the last word.
The dream came back again that night—the stone tower, the river glittering far below the window, the furniture scattered all around the room, the cot set up in the middle. I ignored it all and focused on Chase. He was breathing. He didn’t snore, not even a cute little purring snore like Lena, but every once in a while, something—a weird sort of noise somewhere between a sigh and a hiccup—would interrupt his long, even breathing. His eyebrows would pinch together and then smooth back into place, like he was in pain.
I woke up worrying, just like I’d done the morning before. It’s nothing, I told myself, even though I’d dreamed the same scene twice. You just had a lot of worry left over from waiting. Chase is safe now.
I almost believed it.
Mom was already gone by the time I worked up the courage to leave my room, so I couldn’t even apologize. I just left to go have breakfast with Lena. I found her in one of the armchairs beside the Table of Never Ending Instant Refills. She was staring into her M3 and ripping her pastry into flaky buttery pieces instead of eating it.
Something was bothering her. I made a guess at what. “Are you still upset about Chase?” We had been keeping a major secret from her. No matter what she’d told him, that had to bother her a little.
“What?” Lena turned the M3 facedown instead of letting me see it, which made me think she’d been freaked out by something completely different, something she wanted to hide from me. “The Canon snuck in another meeting this morning—one without the student representatives. I convinced Rumpelstiltskin to tell me what they talked about.”
“Bad news?”
“The Snow Queen’s allies were impressed with her attack on the Fey courts,” Lena said reluctantly. “King Licivvil pledged his goblins to her. The East Wind convinced his brother, North, to join her. Likon recruited the last of the ice trolls to help—you know, the abominable snowmen? And—”
“And basically, everyone who was in the Snow Queen’s palace when we rescued those kids the Pied Piper kidnapped. Got it.” I’d been there. I’d seen that enormous room filled with her allies. I didn’t need to go down the entire list. “Did anyone not join the Snow Queen overnight?”
“Yes!” Lena said, brightening. “The Trolls of the Hidden Court.”
I looked at her, not sure why she thought this would cheer me up. I mean, I’d fought pretty much all the Hidden Court Trolls when I was twelve. They weren’t too hard to defeat. They were only three feet tall.
“They sent the Snow Queen a letter,” Lena went on. “They said they had no quarrel with Rory Landon. Sure, she came and stole their scepter, but she didn’t hurt anyone when she was there. See? Not killing people paid off! You should tell Chase.”
I hadn’t seen him yet. Considering how much rest he’d gotten since he’d rescued his mom, I fully expected him to be asleep. “Chase would say they wouldn’t have stood up to Solange if we’d told anyone how to get to the Hidden Troll Court.”
Lena sighed, like she’d been hoping I wouldn’t bring this up. “The Snow Queen offered the rank of general to any ally who slays the troll king. That’s what Rumpelsiltskin said.”
The Trolls of the Hidden Court were only safe to rebel because the Snow Queen didn’t know where they were. Kind of like EAS. Now that the Fey courts had fallen, we were probably one of the few safe places left. “Let me guess. The grown-ups are freaking out about allies.”
“The Director wanted us to try and recruit Iron Hans,” Lena said. “The rest of the Canon isn’t sure we can trust him, though. That was why Rumpelstiltskin stopped by to see what I knew.”
She stopped and bit her lip. There was something else. I waited to find out what it was.
“Arica, the sorceress, is dead,” she said. “The Snow Queen and General Searcaster both went after her.”
Then Lena flipped over her mirror and slid it over to me, her lips pressed together tight, like she wanted to keep them from trembling.
She had scryed the battlefield.
The fight had ravaged the landscape. Arica’s ramshackle house was completely destroyed. So was her garden. Instead, a crater scarred the earth, gouging layers of ice and snow down to the gray rock beneath. Canyonlike cracks spread out to the horizon, melted water gushing down them, emptying into the crater and disappearing into the dark abyss.
So that was what happened when you killed a powerful sorceress. I couldn’t imagine anyone walking away from an implosion like that. I would have to make sure Chase and Lena didn’t get caught in the crossfire when I fought Solange.
“Well,” I said, because I kind of felt like I should say something, “I really don’t think she would have helped us again.”
Lena looked at me in surprise. I guess it had sounded kind of like something Solange might say. Still, Arica hadn’t ever been nice to me. I shouldn’t feel sorry for her death. Chase would be the first person to tell me that.
“Chase! The Fey!” someone shouted.
I shot to my feet. My hand clamped on my sword hilt, even before I spotted the kid who’d shouted.
It was Kevin, his hands cupped around his mouth so that his voice carried farther. “The training courts! HURRY!”
Half the courtyard got up and drifted toward the iron-studded door, their faces sleepy and curious. I barreled past them, elbowed a few out of my way, and caught up to Kevin in the hall. “What is it? Did they attack him?” I asked, slightly out of breath.
“Definitely,” said Kevin, and he sounded ridiculously happy.
Everyone had ringed around the warriors going at it in the middle of the training courts. Metal clanged on metal, and the spectators chanted, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”
I slipped to the front of the crowd and found a spot in between Ben, Kyle, and Conner.
The fighters flew at each other, clashing swords, and exploded apart too fast for me to recognize anyone, but you could tell there were more than four people. Then the Fey with green armor from yesterday face-planted onto the mats in front of me. His sword landed a few feet away. He snatched up his weapon and cursed so harshly in Fey that I almost took my gumdrop translator out. Then he flapped his wings and threw himself back into the action.
I didn’t let go of my sword. “What is going on?”
“I wish I could tell you.” Ben had his M3 tilted toward the fight, so either Chase had asked him to record it, or he had called Chatty so she could watch. “The Fey were doing their drills when we came in for practice. Chase wanted to make up for missing yesterday. He started demonstrating today’s lesson for us. I guess that really put a bee in the knights’ bonnets.”
“He means they got angry and attacked him,” said a voice from the M3. Definitely Chatty on the line.
Another shorter Fey with gold wings landed hard on his butt on the other side of the circle. With a dazed scowl, he scrambled to his feet, and then he leapt back into the fray.
“Wait. Chase is in there by himself?” I couldn’t believe no one was helping him. “How many Fey is he fighting?”
“At least six,” Kevin said gleefully. I couldn’t believe he had just announced it to the entire courtyard so more people could come watch.
“No, seven,” said Kyle, even more impressed.
Unbelievable. I drew my sword and stepped forward. A blur of orange wings filled my vision. Chase, soaked with sweat. “No, Rory. I got this,” he called.
Another Fey, rail-thin with slender wings with spiraling tips, chopped an overhand blow to my friend’s head while his back was turned. I squeaked, but Chase blocked it easily. Then he twisted hard. A second later, Chase was holding both swords.
“Sorry,” Chase told the Fey. His grin took up half his face. “I’m just gonna borrow this for a second. Ask nicely, and I might even give it back.”
A stocky man, wearing armor coated in dust, shouldered his way to the front. His grin was very white on his dirty face, and his dimples were in exactly the same place as Chase’s. It was his dad, Jack, back from Atlantis.
“Hey, Chase! I hear you’re having a great week,” he said, clearly as proud of his son as Chase had ever wanted him to be.
“Week? I’m having a great life.” But Chase didn’t have time to be cocky.
He stepped toward his father, like he was going to clap Jack on the back, but the other six Fey descended on him. Chase ducked and wove through them all.
Wow. Chase was enjoying this. I guessed I would let him have his moment. If there was anything that could cheer Chase up from the close call he’d had yesterday, it was totally whooping seven Fey knights in front of his dad.
“For the record, we offered to lend a hand too,” Ben said, “but Chase told us he could handle it.”
I groaned, but I was smiling. “Ben, you’re getting worse.”
“No,” said Chatty, through Ben’s M3, “he’s getting better.”
Well, at least she liked his jokes.
Adelaide elbowed her way to the front and glared at us all, but me especially. “How can you joke about this? He rescued them yesterday, and they’re attacking him.”
I didn’t bother explaining. Even if I tried telling her, she wouldn’t listen to me.
A door slammed open behind us. An angry voice rang out, “What is happening here?”
The triplets and Adelaide looked confused. Knowing I had my gumdrop translator in, Ben turned my way, but I didn’t see how I could explain without being totally obvious. All the Unseelie knights fell to one knee, panting. Even Chase swept a beautiful, unhurried bow, his shoulders rising and falling in quick breaths.
Across the room, Jack shrank back and let the rest of the crowd conceal him. Everybody at EAS knew he wasn’t a huge fan of the Fey, but something about his reaction made me wonder if certain Fey just didn’t like him.
The circle opened up to let someone through. It was the old Fey from the night before, all cleaned up. Gray hair hung in long waves and brushed his shoulders, but his body was limber and strong under his black silk clothes. So he was the Unseelie king. He had the same inky black wings as his son, Prince Fael, and he strode across the room like he owned it. His dark eyes blazed with anger.
Behind him was Lady Aspenwind. Well, I guess we knew who had told the king what was happening. She didn’t even glance at Jack.
King Mattanair stood in front of the fighters. Our evil Fey dummies were lined up against the wall, ready for our lesson. I sincerely hoped he wouldn’t notice them. “I am waiting for your answer,” said the king.
“The Turnleaf has been teaching our secrets to the humans,” said the one in green armor.
“He teaches them Itari,” said the one who’d lost his sword.
The translator gave me the definition a beat afterward—“branch battle.” It ranked right up there with “Pounce Pot” on my list of all-time most ridiculous magical names. I’d never heard of it, but the others obviously had.
Silence reigned across the room. The king cocked his head to the side, with a cool, assessing stare. Even Chase shot them a frown that clearly said, Someone left their brain back in Atlantis.
But Jack, who had been creeping toward the door, stopped and turned around, suddenly interested.
“You believe that Chase Turnleaf has rediscovered the techniques that allow one Fey to fight like ten?” The king laid the skepticism on thick. “I haven’t seen such techniques since my youth, more than a millennia ago.”
Wow. He was old.
Adelaide stepped closer to Chase, in full-on loyal girlfriend mode. “He—” she started in English. She obviously wasn’t wearing a gumdrop translator.
“Not now, Adelaide,” I said. “Let him deal with it.”
“What do you say in answer, Chase Turnleaf?” asked King Mattanair.
“I know nothing of the Itari,” said Chase, his face suddenly as smooth and respectful as a perfect Fey courtier, “but I did know that I was teaching movements guided by a Fey-forged blade.”
“Where is this weapon?” asked the king.
You would have to know him really well to notice, but Chase stiffened. He didn’t as much as glance in my direction. If he was in trouble, he wanted to make sure I didn’t go down with him.
Very sweet, but it was going to come out eventually. Besides, he really hadn’t done anything wrong. “I have it, Your Majesty,” I said.
The Fey all swiveled. They stared at me so blankly that I worried that Lena’s gumdrop translator had malfunctioned.
“Who the hiccups are you?” asked one of the kneeling knights. Except he didn’t say “hiccups.”
I couldn’t read the king’s face. “This is Rory Landon, bearer of the Unwritten Tale,” he said.
Great. If he knew who I was, then he probably also knew that I’d kind of forced his son to do my bidding the last time I’d hung out with the Unseelie Court. He knew I’d left Fael in Likon’s clutches when I escaped the Snow Queen’s palace. This king had no reason to like me.
So I said the first thing that came to mind. “Nice to meet you.”
Either Chase choked on his own spit, or he started coughing to hide a laugh.
Luckily, King Mattanair just looked amused. Chase had said that the Unseelie king liked him. I guess that was true. “May I see the sword?”
I had kind of expected this. I also kind of expected never to get the sword back. I tried not to look upset. I drew my sword, balanced the blade flat on both palms, and presented it to him.
He took it. He squinted at the Fey lettering etched on the flat of the blade. “This sword is older than I am. Did you know that?”
I shook my head.
“Where did you discover it?” the king asked. I opened my mouth, but he answered his own question. “The dragon’s lair in Yellowstone.”
It never failed to shock me when important people knew so much about my life. I wondered if this had happened to Solange too, a couple of centuries ago, when the first Unwritten Tale had started.
“Under Solange’s very nose, hidden in her beast’s hoard . . . ,” said the king, like he’d forgotten we were there. The Fey knights’ eyes had glazed over, which kind of made me wonder if the king went off on tangents like this a lot.
“Sire, you are keeping our curiosity at its peak,” Lady Ayalla said, half exasperated, half teasing. They must have actually been good friends if she could use that much sarcasm with him.
King Mattanair passed the sword to me. I was so surprised he actually returned it that it nearly tumbled out of my hands. “That is a sword of legend, a relic from an age when the Fey’s very name recalled ancient greatness. It is a training sword used by the newly sworn squires of the Itari. All of their make were thought to be destroyed when the knights were overcome, their fortress conquered, centuries ago. It is lik
ely the last one left.”
“Oh.” Now I really couldn’t believe that I’d gotten it back.
The knights looked like they felt exactly the same way. Their eyes lingered on the blade, and even Jack cast a longing look over it. Before, Chase was the only other person interested in my magic sword. Now I wondered if one of the Fey might try to fight me for it.
I think Lady Aspenwind noticed. “Rory, the writing on the sword—do you know what it says?” She glanced back at her king, worry pinching her face into a frown.
I shook my head. Chase couldn’t read it, and Lena had said it was a language lost to most of the magical world. Even her gumdrop translator was stumped.
“It is a training sword,” said King Mattanair. “It was not meant to be kept by one person all their life. In fact, many of these weapons were cursed to discourage one warrior from keeping it too long.”
The jealous looks instantly melted into smugness.
That explained why he’d returned it. Here. Keep one of our ancient legendary swords. By the way, it’s cursed.
King Mattanair flicked the blade, and a tiny ping ran out in the still room. “ ‘With this edge, I shall protect you.’ ” He did the same on the other side with a sly sort of triumph. Yep, definitely Fael’s dad. “ ‘With this edge, I shall destroy you.’ Hold on to this weapon for much longer, and it will turn against you.”
He probably expected me to give it to him. Maybe not today, but after the Snow Queen was defeated. I was almost sure that was what he wanted.
Ugh. As if my life wasn’t complicated enough. I wondered if anyone had noticed I was holding the sword slightly away from my body now.
“We said it was of the Itari tradition,” said the gold-winged knight, clearly afraid the king had forgotten why they were upset. “We said he was teaching our oldest secrets. It is no less than we should expect from a Turnleaf.”
Chase flinched, his shoulders hunched slightly, and if Adelaide hadn’t shifted closer to him, I would have. I bit my tongue and looked at Lady Aspenwind and Jack, waiting for one of them to defend their son.
“No less?” repeated the king quietly. No one could see magic, but sometimes you could feel it—a slow crackle that built, like an electrical charge, until the hairs stood up all along your arms. As the king spoke, we could all feel it.
