by Lea Doué
Ruby wiped her sister’s brow, and Wren roused a bit. She blinked, sat up too quickly, and grabbed her head with a groan. “I fainted again?”
She didn’t need an answer.
“I’m sorry. I was so excited to see the—”
“Shhh!” Ruby and Coral said.
“I was gonna say thing.”
Azure paced behind the couch. “Let’s see it again.”
Lily tore the page from her sketchbook and gave it to Ruby.
Azure leaned over to see. She inspected the drawing and then dashed to the table, returning with a pencil and mostly-clean sheet of paper. Ruby traded with her and started doodling.
Wren squinted at the paper as lines took shape. “It’s the—”
“Shhh!” Coral warned again.
Wren slumped and pressed her lips together. She’d recognized the archway. Ruby added the rusted hinges and the mist, so it couldn’t be mistaken.
Hope shone in the girls’ faces. This might be the answer to their problems.
The door opened. “Wren fainted?” Mara said.
Lily gestured for her to join them around the couch. Neylan and Junia followed. The girls explained as best they could what had happened, and the excitement grew.
Melantha entered as the sketches were passed around. She smelled delicious, like butter and cinnamon. Her snarled hair and red cheeks said she’d just run in from somewhere.
“Here.” She thrust a paper bag into Lily’s hands. “What’s going on?”
The girls began again, and Lily explored the contents of the bag. Roasted almonds with cinnamon. Still warm. She scooped out a handful, passed the bag to Ivy, and then settled over by the window to enjoy the moment. It felt almost festive after the past few days, and she didn’t want to risk accidentally joining in on the conversation.
She closed her eyes. Her heart felt full of bubbles. She could explain things to Mother through sketches. Somehow. Mother would change her mind. She would take back what she’d said, and everything would turn out all right.
The door opened. Gwen and Hazel listened to the news and examined the sketches. After a few minutes, Gwen joined Lily in exile.
“Ivy is pretty perceptive, you know.” Gwen knelt by her chair. “I wish you could tell me what’s wrong. I mean, besides the obvious. Can you draw me a picture?”
She thought for a moment how she might convey Mother’s order to choose a husband by the night of The Starlight Ball. It was too complicated for her small talent, so she shook her head. She’d tell them tonight.
“Is it anything to do with Mother?”
She nodded.
“Mother was in a mood during supper. She excused herself earlier than usual, even for this time of year. Runson followed her out.”
Lily clasped Gwen’s hands, willing her to understand.
“Runson?”
Lily nodded.
“There’s a problem, and it has something to do with Mother and Runson?”
More nodding.
“I can’t imagine what the connection is, other than what we already know. I’m sorry.”
Lily smiled to let her know it was okay, but she was sure it looked more like a grimace. She offered her some almonds.
Gwen popped one in her mouth and hugged Lily tight. “We’ll figure this out. The sketches are good news.”
“Slippers,” Coral announced. From under a corner table, she produced a basket overflowing with wispy silken scraps that passed for fashionable footwear these days. “They arrived this afternoon.”
Junia tended to blisters and sores with her creams. Everyone had a complaint, with Junia’s and Melantha’s being the worst. Junia had danced under the lights for the duration each night, and Melantha was paying the price for dancing in boots. Twice.
Lily tied on her slippers, barely noting the color or delicate stitching. They wouldn’t last for more than two or three nights, and the girls couldn’t keep ordering slippers indefinitely. But she wouldn’t think about that. If the sketches worked, she wouldn’t have to think about it at all.
She gathered the drawings and held them aloft until she got everyone’s attention. She mimed sealing her lips and pointed out the window to the maze.
Gwen voiced Lily’s instructions. “Don’t mention the drawings to . . . anyone . . . tonight.”
Lily didn’t trust Prince Tharius enough to tell him about their discovery, yet.
She gathered the girls, and they slipped out of the tower as they had the previous night. Eben had left two guards again. Still, it was too easy, and Lily almost wished they would be stopped and questioned.
Melantha lit the candle when they reached the maze, and they followed the floating light down the hidden passageway and the stairs. Lily counted to one hundred this time, distracted at last by the cold seeping through her slippers. She might as well be barefoot.
Prince Tharius waited near the archway, close enough for her to see the tenseness around his eyes. She wondered if the broken gate was his doing. She let the girls go through first this time and marveled again at their transformations. Dark tones ruled, except for Ivy’s smoky grey. Coral could have used some extra lace this time, her plum gown plunging in a low V, but no one had time to offer extra covering before the white-haired gentlemen swept in and took them away.
She hesitated. Would the prince be able to tell she was hiding something?
His jaw clenched, as did his hands. His gaze would set her on fire soon.
She shivered and stepped through the arch. Blue cotton disappeared, replaced by sleeveless charcoal silk so light she had an odd impulse to twirl.
Prince Tharius grabbed her hand, his grip almost painful, and sped her down the path. No greeting, just as before. She tripped once, and he steadied her without slowing down.
“So eager to dance?” She tried to laugh, but the darkness stole the sound.
He pulled her onto the dance floor, his arm firm on her back. “Do not try my patience. I have waited all my life for a chance at freedom. I never thought I might have a chance at happiness, too.”
She looked away. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t making this easier. She had no intention of ensuring his happiness, not in the way he meant. Especially not if Mother made her follow through with a betrothal in a few days.
He made no effort at conversation, content to study her face and weave through the dancers as the music pierced the night.
“I want to know more about you,” she said at last. “But I don’t know what to ask.” Not much chance that he would offer information she could use, but she had to start somewhere. She just hoped he didn’t get the wrong idea.
He looked both suspicious and pleased. “I don’t know what to tell.”
“Maybe you could start by telling me the name of the sorcerer who imprisoned you here.”
His face hardened. “I thought you wanted to know more about me.”
“I do. I just—”
“I don’t know his name. Why do you think I call him the sorcerer?”
Oh. That didn’t help.
“He pursued my mother from the north. Grandfather kept everyone safe until the sorcerer caught up with them here. After my mother refused to leave, I assume he returned to his home.”
“He must have cared for her a little, to create such a place as this.”
He clenched his jaw.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Grandfather helped shape this, as I told you before.”
Had he?
This was created by the sorcerer who imprisoned your parents, she’d said.
And my grandfather. Yes.
He hadn’t been clarifying his grandfather’s imprisonment, he’d been crediting him with helping to make the undergarden what it was. Tharius had learned from a master.
“Grandfather saw how Mother wilted in the dark, how it saddened my father. He added the trees and candlelight, the dance floor, the gowns, and music. But it wasn’t enough.”
Spinning under the trees
in the golden light, knowing the darkness waited just beyond, Lily understood. “It makes you sad to remember your mother.”
“It makes me angry.” His voice grated, low and dangerous.
She shuddered. She couldn’t forget that this man was a sorcerer, too.
“You should rest for a moment.” Abruptly, he deposited her at the edge of the clearing and took Coral from the arms of one of his courtiers.
Lily squeezed Ivy’s shoulder, and then linked her arm with Neylan’s. “Let’s walk.” She would take advantage of her reprieve tonight.
They wandered aimlessly through the garden, and Neylan pointed out some of the strange plants, including the black mushrooms with the glowing orange cracks. “Half of these are poisonous, I think.”
They turned down a path that ran parallel with the clearing. Something moved in Neylan’s hair. A butterwing. It couldn’t be the same one as the other day, as this one wasn’t fat.
Neylan sniffed a rose bush and crinkled her nose. “He seems quite smitten with you.”
“I suppose.”
“Maybe even obsessed.”
“Neylan.”
“Well, he hasn’t seen many girls, has he? It’s not that surprising.”
Everything about this place surprised her. She chose another path that led farther from the dancing. The music grew faint, the silver light dim and unwelcoming.
“I don’t have much time before he’ll claim another dance. I need to know if you’ve heard anything . . . unusual.”
Neylan gave her a pointed look.
“I mean anything that might help us. He told me the sorcerer was from the north. He could still be out there somewhere. If we could find him, maybe he could undo all of this.”
“Okay, first, I haven’t heard anything helpful. Second, I don’t think a sorcerer who designed a prison this elaborate is going to just poof it all away. And, third, I don’t have a good feeling about your prince. If he even is a prince.”
“He’s not my prince.”
“He certainly thinks he is.”
“That’s part of the problem. A bigger part than you know.” She told Neylan about Mother’s command to choose a fiancé by the end of the week.
“What! She can’t do that. That’s outrageous, even now. We have to tell her . . . but we can’t tell her.” She groaned.
“That’s not all. Runson says he has Father’s blessing, and he’s expecting me to say yes any day now.”
“They can’t change the rules like this; not after Father said you could make your own decision in your own time.”
Lily agreed. “You’ll tell the others for me?”
“Of course.”
A hissing sound stopped them. They’d gone down a dead end. Ahead, thick bushes and a small evergreen grew behind a stone bench identical to the one near the bridge.
“Did you hear that?” Neylan whispered.
“Psst. Princess! Psst.”
Lily jumped when a small brown hand emerged from the bushes and waved, followed by a round face with grey eyes.
Bay!
Chapter Twelve
“What are you doing here!” Lily lunged forward.
Neylan held her back. “She’s hiding.”
Of course. Lily relaxed, and Neylan let go. They strolled to the end of the pathway and sat on the bench as if they’d seen nothing.
Bay pulled her hand back into the shadows. “How’s my princess?”
Lily kept her voice down and her back to the bushes. “Hazel’s fine, all things considered. She’s worried about you. We all are.”
“I got lost.” Bay sounded disgusted with herself, the girl who knew every alley and rooftop path in Eltekon. “Thought I found a shortcut, but I met a creepy sorcerer instead. He wanted me to marry him!”
“What?”
“I know—I’m only fourteen!”
The same age as Azure.
“He said he’d wait until I was old enough, but I told him no way would I let him into our kingdom. Not if I could help it.”
Lily reached into the bushes and squeezed Bay’s shoulder.
“I’ve been so creeped out. I’m glad to see you, but why’d you have to go and get yourselves into this mess?”
“Are you entangled, too?”
“Uh . . . he said not to try to get out, or I’d regret it.”
“You tried, anyway, didn’t you?” Neylan asked.
“‘Course I did. But I can’t find no exit past that weird forest. It’s all bushes and weeds.”
“Are you okay?” Lily asked.
“I’m fine. He won’t let no one bother me, ‘cause he wants me to say ‘yes,’ if you get out of your curse. Those old men keep saying their prince is gonna marry a princess, and they’re gonna be free and mighty again.”
Wait. “What did you just say?” Lily asked. “About me getting out of my curse?”
“It’s all they talk about, whether you’ll break your curse before the prince can get you to marry him.”
Her curse. Not Prince Tharius’s curse? Neylan’s face mirrored her own confusion.
“But I’m not under a curse. It’s his curse we’re tangled in. He tried to help us . . .” Her head spun, and she would have fallen, if she hadn’t already been sitting. She’d allowed Tharius to put the pendant around her neck. She’d cursed her sisters, along with herself.
Neylan tugged at her own pendant, eyes wide and unblinking. “He lied.”
What else had he lied about? Lily clenched her teeth, her hands. Every muscle in her body tensed. She would get the truth out of him.
“Wait for us in the forest. We’ll take you with us when we go.”
“That won’t work.”
“Why not?”
“I got thirsty.”
What? Oh, no. She’d taken water from Tharius. Even children knew you never took anything from a sorcerer’s hand. Nothing. Lily couldn’t blame her, though. She’d done the same thing. And worse.
“We’ll get you out of this, Bay.”
“I know.” Her face peeked out from the bushes again. So much trust in her eyes. If only she had someone better to count on. “But hurry. These fake ballgowns are scratchy.”
Lily hated to leave her, so young and helpless. Actually, helpless might not be the best word. Looks could be deceiving. She was brave, but she needed their help.
“Stay safe.” Lily gentled the butterwing from Neylan’s hair and tucked it into Bay’s curls. Now, she wasn’t alone.
Tharius partnered Hazel on the dance floor, and Lily wanted to walk right out and deck him. Instead, she lurked in the shadows with Neylan and Ivy and watched. He noticed, and his gaze turned to her during the dance, a smug smile playing over his face. He was obviously pleased that she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He wouldn’t be so pleased when he learned the reason.
The song ended. He bowed to Hazel and then sauntered over.
Hazel breezed past him without a glance and reached Lily’s side first. “What’s wrong?”
“Talk to Neylan.”
Tharius held out his hand to Lily, an unspoken invitation. She accepted, and he swept her into the throng of dancers, a blur of charcoal among shades of night. Hazel covered her mouth as Neylan whispered close, but she remained composed. Lily was grateful to have such sisters. She didn’t deserve them. This mess was all her fault, and she was going to get them out of it, to make things right.
Tharius noted where her attention had strayed. “Your sisters are nothing compared to you.”
“Oh, but you have it backwards.” She met his gaze steadily. “My sisters are everything. You knew I would do anything for them, and you took advantage of that the first time I met you.”
His smile grew strained. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You cursed me, and through me, my sisters.”
Now the smile disappeared. His grip tightened. “Why would you think such a thing?”
“Why would you do such a thing?” She couldn’t endanger Bay by telling him whe
re she’d learned the truth. “Other than because you’re a sorcerer. A deceiver.”
That might have been the wrong thing to say.
His face hardened. The music sped up, and his movements became stormy. She clung to him to keep from being thrown to the floor.
“You owe me and my sisters an explanation.”
“I don’t owe you anything.” He stopped abruptly and dragged her in the direction of the castle. “But because of my regard for you, I will do my best to explain what I can.”
The shadow-people disappeared as soon as his feet cleared the dance floor. He dismissed his courtiers, and they obeyed without hesitation.
Lily issued an order of her own. Or, rather, a request—a hand signal she’d developed with her sisters when the older girls needed to discuss matters without having little ears around. Mara stayed behind with the younger girls, restraining Coral when she made a move to follow.
Tharius led her to the gazebo. She tripped on the step up, and he steadied her before depositing her on the bench. He glared as Gwen, Hazel, Melantha, and Neylan joined them. They settled around her, a living shield, leaving no place for him at her side. Lily raised her chin defiantly. If he’d wanted privacy, he should have said so. She’d told him that they all deserved an explanation.
“Let me tell you a story, then.” He studied each of them in turn. “Once upon a time, there was a princess. Her beauty and generosity were known across the lands, and many sought her hand, but she had eyes only for the son of a sorcerer. Makar, son of Rasmus, was not a sorcerer himself, but a lowly blacksmith, with no hope of winning the maid for his own.”
He twisted the ring on his finger as he paced, staring ahead blankly, as if seeing both the garden and his memories.
“A more powerful sorcerer coveted the princess, determined to have her. Seeing her distress, Makar petitioned his father. Rasmus came to their aid, for as much as he loved his son, he hated the sorcerer even more.” He stopped pacing and said no more.
“That’s it?” Melantha asked.
He did not turn his face from the garden. “That’s it. They fled with a small group of men loyal to the princess. He pursued. They tried to take refuge in your city, but the sorcerer caught up with them. And here we are.”
