by Erin Johnson
Wiley returned with the champagne and Annie carried the glasses. We poured one for everyone and I fed Iggy a giant pile of linden branches.
We lifted our flutes.
“To staying out of trouble.” Annie grinned.
“To staying out of trouble,” the rest of us chorused.
We clinked our glasses together and I’d just finished my first sip of the bubbly stuff when a knock sounded at the door. We all froze and exchanged glances.
“Come in,” Maple called.
The door swung open and a royal messenger in the white, blue, and silver livery of the Water Kingdom stood at the door. He kept his face impassive as he made his announcement. “Your presences are requested for an audience with the king.” He lifted his nose. “All of you.”
24
An Audience
My friends and I stood in a line facing the king, with Iggy, in his lantern, dangling from my hand. My stomach twisted itself into knots.
The messenger who’d fetched us addressed the king. “The royal bakers, your majesty. As requested.” He bowed deeply, then swept to the perimeter of the room.
I reached to my right and found Maple’s hand. I gave it a little squeeze. “Maybe, maybe it’s nothing,” I whispered to her.
She pressed her lips tight together and gave a jerky nod. “Maybe.”
We’d never been called before the king like this. Maybe it was a coincidence that it was happening the same day we’d staged a prison break? I slid my eyes around the room. Pairs of armed officers with long, golden lances guarded every entrance and more watched us from their stations along the wall.
Straight ahead, a large gathering watched us from up on a raised stage. The king sat in the center on a giant golden throne, carved to look as though it were made of twisted driftwood. It gave it the effect of being in motion, alive and sharp and writhing. It was unnerving. Queen Edith and all Hank’s brothers and their wives sat beside him, their backs to the giant wall of windows that looked out onto the sea. The orange sunset backlit them and cast their faces in shadow. And behind and slightly to the side of the king, Francis hovered, completely still.
Before the platform, Inspector Bon stood, a confused crease between his brows, beside a frowning Madeline L’Orange. Her leather messenger bag hung across her shoulders and her scroll and quill hovered beside her head, ready to write.
I spotted Urs Volker and my stomach flooded with icy fear. He paced back and forth, grumbling to himself. And off to the side of the platform, Amelia and Rhonda stood whispering to each other. I found their presence comforting, even if they were probably still mad at us.
I’d had time to take all this in, and still no one had spoken. I gulped as the heavy silence dragged on. The only person missing was Hank—his entire family was here, except him. My stomach sank—was he okay? I hadn’t heard from him since this morning. I felt heavy as I remembered how upset he’d been, thinking he’d accidentally killed his mentor Colin—and on his birthday. Where could he be? And why were we here?
Emmaline pulled her mouth wide in a tentative smile and lifted her fingers at me in a little wave. I plastered on a tight smile and nodded back. I was glad to see that she’d made it out of the prison just fine and didn’t seem too traumatized by it.
Urs clicked his heels. “Your majesty. Mine prison ees een disorder, zis ees highly inconvenient. May I ask again, vy haf you called me here?”
King Roch shot Urs a scowl and the officer’s throat bobbed. The king folded his hands and leaned forward. Orange light lit up the right side of his face and highlighted his sharp cheekbones and prominent brow. “While we wait for my son to join us, let’s talk.” His gravelly voice cut through the quiet and hung there.
My stomach twisted tighter and I let out a shaky breath.
He splayed his thick, scarred hands wide. They glittered with ruby and sapphire rings. “I’ve invited the rest of you to act as witnesses. I wish to be as fair and aboveboard about this as possible. And I hope you all”—he pointed straight at me—“will show me the same courtesy.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Iggy muttered from the lantern.
“Nope,” I breathed.
The king’s eyes narrowed. “Imogen. How did you enjoy your prison tour today? Emmaline tells me that despite an unseemly prison break, the ladies in her club thoroughly enjoyed themselves.” His cordial tone put me on edge.
Emmaline nodded at me. “The duchess invited me to be on the committee. She said it was the most thrilling day of her life.” She bit her lip. “Thanks for the best idea ever.”
I gulped.
“Oh.” The king blinked and folded his hands. “So it was your idea, Imogen?”
I could feel everyone’s gazes slide to me. I nodded.
“Fascinating. What a loyal friend you are to Emmaline.”
I gulped again. My legs itched to run out of that room.
The king shook his head. “To break into a prison just to help your friend’s social standing? Now, that’s a friend for life.”
I froze. I couldn’t even breathe. He knew.
Emmaline frowned and gasps sounded down the line. Madeline’s quill scribbled on the scroll that hovered by her head.
“Or perhaps that was just a happy side effect to helping your compatriots escape?” The king lifted his brows.
Amelia and Rhonda gaped at us.
A knock sounded at the door to the right and the guards beside it pulled the doors open. Hank strode in a few steps and my chest tightened. He stopped and looked around, his brows pinched together in confusion. “What’s going on?”
“Come in, son.” The king lifted his bushy gray brows. “We were just discussing how your little girlfriend broke into Carclaustra today.”
“Surprise!”
I hefted Iggy’s lantern up to get a look at him. He shook his little jazz hands. “Not the kind of surprise he was hoping for?”
“Not at all the time, Iggy,” I hissed.
I dropped my arm to my side again.
Hank walked further into the room and stood between his family on the platform, and the line of me and the other bakers. He looked left and right between us. “She went on a tour today—with Emmaline.”
“You didn’t hear about the breakout?” Emmaline gushed.
Hank whipped his head towards me. “There was a breakout? Are you all right?” He started toward me, worried.
“Not so fast.” The king’s voice boomed through the space.
Hank paused.
“She’s the one who orchestrated the breakout.” The king sneered and waved his hand at us. “She and all her baker friends.”
Hank’s thick brows pulled together, but his mouth twitched toward a smile. He looked back and forth between me and his father. “You’re joking. That’s ludicrous.”
The king shifted in his seat and gripped the gnarled arms of his throne. “Is it? Ask her. Or better yet, ask your vampire. He’s told me everything.”
My eyes darted to Francis, who hovered behind the king. “Francis?” Was it true? Had he betrayed us?
Francis didn’t answer, but Rhonda scoffed and folded her arms. She shot her lover a look. “Well. I didn’t see that coming.”
Hank shook his head. “No. No! I don’t believe it.” He seemed to notice the guards standing around the room and the other spectators. “What is this? What’s going on?”
Queen Edith leaned over to her husband, her eyes on me. “She seems like a very nice girl to me.” My heart warmed with gratitude.
King Roch scoffed at her and she clammed up. “She and her little friends conspired with Horace, leader of the Badlands Army and enemy of the kingdoms, to break into Carclaustra and rescue two of their associates. The same ones who tried to kill us at the Summer Solstice.”
Hank scoffed and shook his head. “Nate and Pritney? Imogen saved us from them, she would never—”
“Tell him,” the king growled.
Francis lifted his large nose. “It’s true. I was the
re when they were planning it. You thought they were setting up a surprise party for you, but it was a prison break.”
“That’s—” Hank paled and turned to me. “I believe you.”
Oh, just stab me in the heart already. I opened my mouth but it was hard to find the energy to speak. I just wanted to turn into a puddle or wake up from a bad dream. A nightmare, actually, this was my worst nightmare. “Hank.”
His eyes widened. “It’s not true.”
I thought I might be sick. “Horace came to us. He said if we didn’t help him, he’d kill you and everyone we cared about.”
He clenched his jaw, his eyes wide with horror.
I stepped toward him, but the guards at the door immediately closed in, their lances pointed at me. I froze. Hank’s eyes darted around at the guards and then back to me.
The king snorted. “And why would a criminal mastermind choose a bunch of ordinary bakers to carry out such a risky mission, hm? You’re double agents, admit it.”
I shook my head. “No! No. He was punishing me.” I looked at Hank. “He was punishing me for choosing you.” I looked left toward Sam, Annie, and Yann, then at Maple and Wiley on my right. “He was punishing me for choosing my friends and the man I love over my own brother.”
Gasps sounded from around the room. I frowned until I realized what I’d said.
The king leaned forward, slowly, like a snake about to strike. “Do you mean to say that Horace is your brother?”
I licked my lips. My skin crawled and I shuddered. Being me was pure agony at that moment. “Yes.”
More gasps. Madeline L’Orange’s quill scribbled like mad.
The king spun to Francis and hissed, “You didn’t tell me he was her brother.”
Francis answered flatly. “You didn’t ask.”
“Yes, I can’t help it, and I didn’t know until recently, but he’s my brother.” I turned to Hank. No point in hiding anything anymore. “He contacted me when we were in the Fire Kingdom. I wanted to get to know him and I knew you were against it, so I didn’t tell you.”
Hank turned gray and half turned away from me.
I had to get this out. “You were marrying Shaday and I was pretending to be okay with it, but it was killing me.” Tears welled up in my eyes and trickled down my cheeks. “You don’t know what it was like, not only knowing you were marrying her, but having to watch it, and help with the wedding. I had to bake your wedding cake to someone else.” I let out a shuddering sob, and Maple squeezed my hand tight. “You’re the love of my life and it was killing me.” I shook my head. “I couldn’t be around it anymore and Horace offered me—he offered for me to go with him to the Badlands. And I didn’t know what to say at first, but the day of the wedding I just lost it and I went to join him.”
Hank looked like I’d just hit him. “You were going to leave? Without telling me? You were going to leave.”
I shook my head. “I meant to come back. And I didn’t tell anyone, not even Maple. I kept it a secret.”
“I tried to talk to you.” Hank shook his head, his expression pained. “I knew it must be hard. I tried to talk to you.”
“I know, but—but I’d never dealt with anything like that before!” I cocked my head as the tears flowed. “I wasn’t honest with you, but I wasn’t being honest with myself either. I just stuffed my feelings down until I snapped.” I sniffed. “I went to the volcano to leave with Horace and that’s when he unleashed Tar.” I shrugged. “I’d thought I could trust him. And I was wrong. And even though it made him hate me, I obviously couldn’t go with him. I raced back and tried to warn everyone.”
I looked down.
“I understand that he made you break into Carclaustra and I am so glad you weren’t hurt.”
I looked up.
Hank closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. He looked at me with so much pain in his expression that I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. “But you kept all that from me since the Fire Kingdom? It’s been weeks and weeks, Imogen.”
I shook my head and cried. “I’m sorry.”
Tears streamed down Hank’s cheeks as he stared back at me.
“Do you see now, son?” King Roch’s gravelly voice jolted me back to the room. For a moment it had felt like Hank and I were the only people on the planet. “She’s trash, vile.”
“She’s not.” Hank gritted his teeth.
I hung my head. “I’m sorry, Hank, I should have told you.”
The king’s heavy breathing grew louder. “She and the others conspired with a known terrorist. They are enemies of the kingdoms who have committed more crimes than I can enumerate. I sentence them to life in Carclaustra.”
I gasped.
“Oh no.” Maple sobbed.
I looked up, my vision blurry with tears. “It’s not their fault. This was all me. If you’re going to sentence someone, make it me.” My chin trembled.
Hank stepped directly between his father and me. “No.” He shook his head. “They may have made mistakes, but they were trying to protect the people they cared about. They were forced into this by Horace. He’s the one we should go after.”
“Really?” The king chewed at his lip as he looked off, disdain written all over his face. He turned to his son and gripped the arms of his twisted throne. “Really? You defend her, even though she’s a terrorist and a liar!” He bellowed the last words and stayed glaring at Hank, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths.
Hank’s big hands balled into fists. A light wind picked up in the room, despite all the windows and doors being closed. The hairs on my arms rose as if the air were crackling with electricity. “She’s not a terrorist. Neither she nor the others deserve this.”
Guilt stabbed at my stomach. I didn’t deserve him sticking by me. And it pained me that he didn’t deny that I was a liar. I hadn’t meant for things to get this bad.
“Arrest them.” The king nodded and his soldiers closed in, their lances pointed at me and my friends.
Hank backed up to stand closer to us and the wind whipped harder. The fires burning in the wall sconces flickered. “You’re not taking them.”
The king slammed a fist into his throne, and the queen jumped. He bellowed at the top of his lungs. “Move aside, you fool!”
“I won’t!” Hank yelled back. The wind formed a tornado around us and knocked the soldiers to their backs, but left us safe in the calm center with Hank.
“You will!” King Roch screamed, frothy spit flying from his mouth. He rose to his feet. “You will step aside and choose loyalty to your king, or I will disown you.”
The queen covered her mouth and Cas rose from his seat beside Emmaline. He looked between his father and his brother.
The king’s lips curled back and his eyes blazed. “I will throw you out on the streets. You will have no home, no family, no money, and no magic. You will have nothing—including that wench!” He snarled at me. “Because she clearly doesn’t love you—it was all a ruse to gain access to the palace!”
“I love you!” I shouted over the wind and Hank’s screaming father. “You know I do!”
The lights flickered and the wind whipped harder as Hank’s shoulders rose to his ears. I feared the roof was about to blow off. “Fine!” His shoulders heaved. “Fine.” The wind settled and the flames along the wall grew steady again. Hank glanced back at me, sorrow in his eyes, and then turned to face his father. He hung his head, defeated. “I choose Imogen. Disown me. Take my powers.”
“No,” his mother shrieked.
Hank lifted his head and nodded at his father. “I understand the consequences.” He nodded again. “Do it.”
The king’s chest heaved, his eyes blazed, and he bared his teeth. His bright red face turned crimson. But still he didn’t disown his son. I frowned, not quite understanding. I’d have thought he was having a change of heart, but the king’s expression didn’t soften at all—he looked like he legitimately wanted to murder his son.
Two guards in gold armo
r and helmets with face plates stepped forward from the corner of the room by the wall of windows behind the king. Well, the tall one stepped forward and the other stumbled. The tall one pulled his helmet off and then yanked the helmet off the other man, to reveal Horace and the old man, Gunter Braun, whom he’d taken from the prison.
A collective gasp went up around the room. The soldiers with lances charged, while others fired spells from across the room. Hank’s brothers and wives cried out and scrambled away.
Horace deflected all the spells and pulled from every single soldier in the room, knocking them all to the floor, unconscious—I hoped. The princesses screamed, Hank’s mother fainted, and Madeline grinned, her quill scribbling like mad.
25
A Tale
Horace dipped his head to the king, even as he kept Gunter on his feet by gripping the neck of the old man’s armor. “Apologies for the interruption.” He lifted his palm. “Please continue. You were just about to banish your son.”
The king stayed on his feet. He darted his burning gaze towards his fallen soldiers, then glowered at Horace. “I will have you skewered alive!”
Horace nodded. “Plenty of time for skewering. I’ll wait.” He blinked and slid his lazy gaze toward Hank, then to me behind him. He winked.
I glared at him. What was he doing here? And how dare he act like he hadn’t betrayed me and all my friends, just when I’d made the mistake of starting to trust him again.
Still the king didn’t act.
“Hm.” Horace pressed his lips together as the old man beside him trembled. “Any guess as to why our furious king hasn’t disowned his son yet? A soft heart? I think not.”
The king rounded on Hank. “This is who you’re aligning yourself with? You disgust me.”
While the king’s back was turned, Horace magicked a scroll into his hand and whisked it to Francis. The vampire flashed his eyes at my brother, then swooped to the windows and read it by the light of the setting sun.
