Amelrik stops, too, and I lean against him. He makes a face. “You stink like magic.”
“Thanks. The paladins… They’re putting the town on lockdown.”
His eyes widen. “Are you sure?”
I nod, still trying to catch my breath.
He looks back the way we came, then in the direction of the inn. “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen it before.”
“Same here.”
“They think it’s that bad?”
He means because a lockdown is a pretty drastic step for them to take. It’s rare—most cities don’t exactly approve of being under self-inflicted magical siege that traps them inside with a desperate dragon, even if it’s probably only for a day or two—just until the dragon can’t stand it anymore and has to transform. But even so, it’s a hard spell to pull off. It takes four experienced Strongshields working in unison at separate locations around the edge of the barrier. “There’ve been multiple deaths and no sign of the dragon who did it.”
“Still…” His face is ashen, and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s worried about the lockdown or because of what happened earlier.
“Who was that back there? That man you thought was going to kill us?”
His chest heaves, his breath fogging the air. “He was.”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t… I don’t know.”
He doesn’t know who he is, but the sound of his voice was enough to make him transform for the first time in six months? In the middle of paladin central, where we were definitely not supposed to be? “Amelrik—”
“I know it sounds crazy!” He presses his palms to his forehead. “But hearing his voice, it made me feel like I was in a nightmare. And I don’t know why, but I knew he wanted to hurt us. I could feel it.”
He’s right, that does sound crazy. “It wasn’t Cedric in the dungeon.”
“I know.”
“So, where is he?”
“If they’d found him, if they’d hurt him, they wouldn’t be putting the town on lockdown. Not with a dragon’s head to parade around.”
I wince at the thought of something so gruesome. “We could check his house again.”
“There’s no time.” He swallows, obviously worried. “And for all we know, maybe he already left town. We just have to hope he’s okay.”
And hope Odilia doesn’t kill us when we show up empty-handed.
He motions for us to keep moving, now that I’ve caught my breath. As we turn the last corner before the inn, a couple paladins go running past us, toward the western gate. They’re moving too fast for me to catch a glimpse of all their insignias, but I’m betting at least one of them’s a Strongshield.
“We have to get out of here,” Amelrik says.
I nod. Today has been pretty much the longest day ever, between flying here with Odilia, then trekking to Cedric’s house and practically freezing to death, and then staging an impromptu rescue mission at paladin headquarters that didn’t exactly go as planned. Now it’s late, we’re both exhausted, and instead of collapsing in our cozy room at the inn together, we have to hurry back out into the wilderness so we can walk back to Hawthorne clan. For days. In the snow.
Ugh.
But none of that is a good enough reason to stay here. Not when there are paladins dead set on rooting out any and all dragons hiding in this town.
My heart sinks at the thought of Cedric being stuck here. Alone and stupidly curious about the paladins who are no doubt going to murder him when they figure out what he is. Which they will, because sooner or later he’ll have to transform—probably more like sooner—and that won’t exactly go unnoticed in a town full of people. There’ll be nowhere for him to hide, no way to sneak off to transform in the woods.
I’m thinking about all that as we step inside the inn. I don’t know if it’s normal for this place or if everyone’s just that excited about the supposed dragon capture, but there are still a fair amount of people here, even though it’s late.
Amelrik freezes, his hand gripping mine.
I follow his gaze to one of the tables. I immediately recognize Leif from earlier. It looks like he’s off duty now, because I doubt the innkeeper would allow him to sit around drinking and playing cards with his friends if he was supposed to be working. And next to him…
Next to him is a guy I’ve never seen before, but he’s instantly familiar. He has dark hair, like Amelrik and Odilia, though his is more dark brown than black, and his features aren’t quite as sharp as Amelrik’s. But there’s something about the cocky grin that slides across his face, tugging on one side of his mouth, and the playful way he raises an eyebrow at Leif that makes my heart beat faster. It’s like I’m seeing the right expressions on the wrong person, and if I didn’t already know better, I’d assume they were brothers, not cousins.
“Cedric.” Amelrik practically breathes the word, as if he can’t believe he’s really here. Or maybe that he can’t believe Cedric’s sitting safely at the inn with his friends while we’ve been running around town all night trying to rescue him.
The whole table turns to look. Leif’s smile changes to a glare when he sees us.
Even though he’s the one who obviously lied to us about knowing Cedric. I mean, we pretty much knew he was lying, but still. If anyone should be glaring like that, it should be us at him, not the other way around.
Cedric’s eyes widen. He studies Amelrik’s face in shock for a second, like he can’t believe it, either. Then his expression darkens. “What are you doing here, cousin?” There’s a sneer in his voice. He does not sound glad to see him.
I wasn’t expecting that.
Neither, apparently, was Amelrik. His shoulders stiffen beside me. “Cedric,” he says. “We need to talk.”
“You’re here because you want something.” Cedric stands by the door of our room with his arms folded, like he’s this close to storming out and leaving.
Amelrik scowls at him. “That’s not what I said.”
Our bags are sitting where we left them in the middle of the bed, still packed. All we have to do is grab them and go.
“We haven’t spoken in six and half years, and you—” Cedric pauses and sniffs the air. “What is that smell?”
Amelrik jerks his thumb toward me. “Virginia. She’s a St. George.”
“Hey!” I do not smell. I mean, there might be a tiny hint of sulfur still lingering on me, but it’s super faint. At least, I think it is.
Cedric’s eyes widen. His are a warm brown, like Odilia’s. “You brought a paladin?! Does she know—”
“She knows everything.” Amelrik waves that away. “She’s my betrothed.”
I can’t help smiling when he says that.
Cedric scoffs. “I bet Uncle Ulrich loves that. Seriously, though, you and a St. George?” He unfolds his arms and takes a step toward me, letting his guard down a little as his whole face lights up with fascination. Then he shakes his head. “You could have told me you weren’t dead.”
“I didn’t…” Amelrik swallows and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Odilia must have told you.”
“‘Must have.’ You don’t even know for sure! And I don’t care what she told me—I wanted to hear it from you!”
“Cedric—”
“I thought you were my best friend! And then you left for Elder clan, and I never heard a word from you again.”
“That’s not fair. You know what happened, you know why I was sent there!”
He means after his mother broke his wings and tried to kill him, though I’m not sure Cedric knows about the broken wings part. I wince just remembering when Amelrik told me about it. After that, his father sent him away to live with Elder clan as part of a political hostage exchange to try and keep the peace. He figured it was safer for him there. Amelrik told me he hated it, at least at first, but that overall it was probably for the best.
“Of course I do!” Cedric shouts. “I waited for months to hear that you were okay! I wrote to y
ou almost every day at first. I was so sure you’d be lonely, all by yourself in that horrible place. And who else was I supposed to talk to? Tell me you never got my letters.”
“I…” Amelrik clears his throat. He doesn’t look at Cedric.
“So you did get them. You just didn’t care.”
“What was I supposed to say? I wasn’t okay, and you knew that, and in your letters, you just acted like… like nothing had happened!”
“What about now, huh? You’re okay now. You’ve been back from the dead for six months, but not one word to me!”
“Not to interrupt your family reunion or anything,” I tell them, “but we need to get going. Like, now.”
Amelrik glances over at me, then at his cousin. “Cedric—”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. I already told your father I’m not coming home. And you can’t just waltz in here after all this time and expect me to just do what you want. I don’t want to be king, and I don’t want to marry Rosalind.” He makes a face.
“Well, neither do I.”
“What?” Cedric cocks his head, like maybe he heard that wrong.
Amelrik takes a deep breath. “Someone has to marry her, to unite us with Oak clan. There’s a rumor that the Elder king is ill and stepping down soon. And if he does, Lothar takes the throne.”
“What?!” I gape at him. This is news to me.
“My father only told me earlier today.” He rubs his face with one hand, muttering, “Was that really only today?”
“So what?” Cedric says, but there’s an edge of fear in his voice.
“If Lothar takes the throne, there’s no telling what he might do. That’s why the Oak king agreed that… that I should marry Rosalind.”
“That desperate, is he?” Cedric practically spits the words. Then Amelrik winces, and Cedric suddenly looks like he wishes he could take them back, though he doesn’t apologize.
“Yes,” Amelrik says. “He’s that desperate. And if neither of us are there to marry her in ten days, not only will we not have Oak clan’s support if Elder clan decides to attack, but we might go to war with them as well.”
I want to punch something. Or maybe kick something. I settle for smacking one of our gear bags really hard, which kind of hurts, actually. “You didn’t tell me!”
He holds up his hands. “I just found out today!”
“Hours and hours ago!”
“Virginia.” He sighs. “It was nothing new. Not really. And I knew you’d be upset.”
“Great,” Cedric says. “Just avoid everyone you don’t want to talk to, even your own betrothed.”
Amelrik glares at him. “I wasn’t…” But he can’t say he wasn’t avoiding him. Or me, I guess.
“You’re only here because you don’t want to marry Rosalind.” He huffs at that. “But it doesn’t matter, because Uncle Ulrich will never let you marry a human, let alone a St. George!”
“I know!” He throws his hands up. “I know that, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re the heir, not me! We’re going to go to war, and you don’t care! Some heir you are!”
Cedric squirms a little and takes a step back. “I told you, I don’t want to be king. I never asked for that.”
“You think I asked for this?!” Amelrik gestures to himself, and even though he’s still in human form, it’s clear what he means. “For any of it?!”
Cedric’s face turns red. He shouts something at him in Vairlin. Then they’re both doing it, talking over each other really fast in a language I don’t understand.
“Hey!” I stomp my foot to get their attention, because I am not missing out on another conversation. Er, I mean, because we need to get out of here.
They ignore me, too caught up in their argument. And then Cedric says something bitter sounding that makes Amelrik gasp, and suddenly they’re in each other’s faces, looking ready to murder each other.
I step in before it can escalate any further, putting a hand on each of their chests and shoving them apart until I can stand between them. “Will you both just stop?! You’re acting like children!”
“He started it,” Cedric mutters.
“You started it,” Amelrik says, but under his breath, like that makes it any better.
And obviously they both heard each other, because they keep glaring.
I turn to Amelrik and flick him on the forehead.
“Ow!”
“Stop it. And you…” I turn to flick Cedric, but he moves out of reach. “You guys can fight later. After we get out of here.”
Cedric scoffs. “I told you, I’m not—”
“We didn’t come here to get you because of Rosalind!” I tell him. “Well, I mean, not just because of that. We came here because you’re in danger. From the paladins.”
He bristles at that. “I can take care of myself.”
Amelrik scowls. “Obviously you can’t.”
I shoot him a warning look, then turn back to Cedric. “They’re putting the town on lockdown.”
He perks up. “Who is? What does that mean?”
“The paladins,” Amelrik says. “It’s a magical barrier—”
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
Amelrik gapes at him. Then his expression darkens. “You—”
“It’s a magical barrier,” I say, before they can start arguing again. “It keeps everyone in—dragon or human. If we don’t leave now, we’re going to be trapped here.”
The anger starts to leave Cedric’s face, replaced with fear. “For how long?”
“It depends.”
“As long as it takes for you to have to transform and get yourself killed,” Amelrik says.
“It gets worse than that. They brought in a Carver.”
Amelrik’s face pales. I hadn’t told him that part yet, but he must know what it means.
Cedric obviously doesn’t. “A butcher?”
I shake my head. “A paladin. One who can force a dragon into their true form. If there are any dragons still in this city after that barrier goes up, they’re going to find them. One way or another.” It’ll only be a matter of time.
Cedric looks stricken. He glances over his shoulder, toward all his friends waiting for him downstairs. I wonder how many of them are dragons, too, or if it’s just Leif.
“So,” Amelrik says, “are you coming with us or what?”
We grab our bags from our room. Cedric collects Leif on the way out. He doesn’t have time to explain to him what’s happening—not that he could in front of everyone else—just that it’s an emergency. Neither of them has time to get their things. We just run.
The others are much faster than me, even though I’m trying really hard to keep up. I don’t pause to catch my breath, even when I can hardly breathe. My foot slips on a patch of ice, and I fall hard on my knees. It’s jarring, and wet snow soaks into my pants.
Amelrik comes back for me, letting the others get ahead. He reaches down and helps me up, and then we’re running again, even though my knees hurt and my lungs ache and I just want this night to be over.
“Open the gate!” Cedric shouts, cupping his hands to his mouth to call up to the guards stationed there.
One of them peers down from their place along the wall. “Who’s that down there?”
“You know us, Harold!” Leif calls up. “It’s Leif, from the Ram’s Head! We need to get through the gate.”
“Leif?” He squints. “And is that Cedric?”
Me and Amelrik catch up to them. There’s a stitch in my side, adding to my discomfort, and I practically double over, trying to catch my breath.
“It’s us!” Cedric says. “And my… my cousin and his betrothed.”
“We can’t open the gate,” Harold says. “Right, Tom?”
The other guard nods, the movement just visible in the torchlight. “After all those dragon attacks, the paladins are putting the whole town on lockdown. We’re not supposed to let anyone out.”
“We know,” Cedric tells them, “but it’s
an emergency! I mean, um… My cousin’s getting married! They’re going to miss their own wedding if we get stuck here.”
“Well.” Harold clucks his tongue. “That is a problem.” He sounds genuinely concerned, but also like he has all the time in the world to mull this over. “How do you like that, Tom?”
Tom nods again. “That is a problem, yeah. Wouldn’t want that to be me, no, sir.”
Leif scowls at them. “Then let us through! You know us!”
“That we do,” Tom says. “But we don’t know them.”
“They just got here today,” Cedric says. “They didn’t know any of this was going on. It’s their wedding.”
“Well…” Harold looks at Tom.
Tom shakes his head. “We’d better not.”
“Excuse me?!” I shout, doing my best to sound pissed, which I kind of am. I’m still slightly winded, which adds to how frustrated I sound. “Do you have any idea how much time and preparation goes into planning a wedding? Do you?!”
“I, um…”
“There’s a cake and a dress,” Harold says.
Thankfully, I’ve heard plenty of Hild’s rants while prepping for the royal wedding. “Oh, no,” I tell them, “there is not a cake and a dress. There is the cake and the dress! The perfect dress that had to be altered over and over until it fit me perfectly! The thousands of beads that had to be sewn onto it by hand! The cake that’s going to take several bakers days to make! My relatives are all coming from out of town. Some of them are having to travel really far to get there, and we just barely were able to book enough rooms at nearby inns to accommodate them all, and who do you think they expect to pay for it? Us. And don’t get me started on the decorations!”
The guards shrink back a little, muttering to themselves.
I elbow Amelrik in the ribs and whisper, “Say something.” He’s supposed to be the groom, after all.
He looks taken aback, like he wasn’t expecting that. Then he blurts out, “She’s going to start showing if we have to put it off any longer!”
“Not that.” I smack his arm.
But it seems to have worked, because Harold says, “Oh, why didn’t you say so? Come on, Tom, let’s let them through.”
Honorbound Page 7
