by Lea Doué
The dragon swerved, talons scoring the earth, and came after her. Heart hammering in her ears, she sped off, but it was the wrong direction. The dragon thought she was trying to escape.
“This way!” Theo waved his arms, still running.
Was he talking to her or the dragon? Because she couldn’t get to him with the dragon between them. She changed direction to run parallel to him.
Theo changed direction, edging away from the dragon. “Follow me,” he called. “Zigzag.”
She pivoted to match his course, each time getting farther from the dragon’s border post and closer to the falls. Once. Twice. Two more times, and then she realized what he was doing. The stone dragon wanted both to keep him within the boundary and to get her back inside it. She didn’t quite understand how, but they were confusing the creature, essentially herding the dragon towards the falls.
Once they reached the stream, she slowed, her legs shaking. Theo threw stones at the dragon, teasing it, feinting as if he would pass it to get to her and then running back. The edge of the falls appeared, only yards away. There was no way to get the dragon to go over it, not without Theo going over, too.
Which he apparently intended to do. He wasn’t slowing.
“Get in the tree!” he yelled.
“What?” There were trees everywhere. They were in a forest, for crying out loud.
He reached the intended tree first—a fat one rooted in the rock at the edge of the falls and leaning dangerously over the drop. He launched himself off the cliff and onto the trunk, wrapped his arms around it, and swung underneath.
She didn’t slow, either, but ran straight for the monster and then swerved at the last moment and threw herself as high as she could onto the tree. She scrabbled higher, trusting it to hold her.
The dragon’s momentum sent it to the base of the tree. Theo swung up his legs and hooked them around the creature’s neck, using its own weight against it as it teetered on the edge. Sharp talons raked the air, grazed his leg, and then it fell.
An eternity of silence squeezed into seconds and then an earsplitting crack resounded as stone crashed against stone. Branches trapped at the bottom of the falls snapped under the weight of it and splintered the air. She covered her head, until all that remained was the gentle rumble of the falls.
She glanced down and inhaled sharply.
They’d broken a dragon.
After taking a moment to catch her breath, she shimmied down the tree. Theo swung around and climbed down after her.
He wrapped her in a crushing embrace, pinning her arms to her sides. “Did you see that? Did you see what we just did? We got one!” He swung her in a circle, kissed her again, and set her on her feet, his gaze drawn to something behind her.
“Eddy!” Theo said, his eyes alight with triumph.
Eddy stormed out from among the trees, walked straight up to Theo, and punched him in the jaw. Theo reeled, landing hard in the shallow water at the stream’s edge.
She grabbed Eddy’s arm. It was all muscle—she couldn’t stop him if he wanted to land another blow. Instead she blurted, “We just killed a dragon.”
Eddy’s arm dropped to his side, suddenly limp. Slowly, the anger drained from his face as he realized what she’d said. Confusion and hope warred in his eyes.
“I wouldn’t believe it, either, if I hadn’t been here.”
“Look for yourself.” Theo staggered to his feet and waved towards the falls. Blood dotted his lip where Eddy had struck him.
She wasn’t sorry. He needed to stop grabbing her.
Eddy stared over the falls. No congratulations. No celebration. Just silence.
“I couldn’t have done it without Gwen,” Theo said. “We—”
“Save it,” Eddy said, his voice strained. “You can tell everyone at once. Hazel is out of her mind with worry.” He stomped past her, back into the woods, leaving them to follow.
She turned to Theo, not bothering to whisper, “If you touch me again, you’ll have more than a bleeding lip. Let me remind you that my governess was a trained dragon soldier. And a good teacher.”
He held his hands up in surrender, the edge of his lip quirking upward.
Eddy glanced back at her and slowed. She hoped he’d heard every word.
When she caught up to him, she took his hand. “I’m sorry for causing any worry.”
His grip was painfully tight, but she welcomed it. Just like the first time, she hadn’t meant to hurt anyone by running off. She’d only wanted to help.
No one said a word on the walk back.
Hazel sat on the ground in the courtyard, wilting against the boulder as she wound a long strand of her finished work into a ball. Bay sat beside her, a handful of figs at her feet.
Holic joined them from the edge of the woods, a mixture of concern and anger on his face. He glared at Theo, scooped up a handful of figs, and brought them to Gwen. “Would either of you care to tell us the story about a prince and a princess who ran off into the woods without telling anyone?”
Gwen settled beside Hazel and put an arm around her, and then they told the story, leaving out the kissing parts, and received satisfactory amounts of praise and awe at the conclusion. Bay clapped, and Holic gazed at her with stars in his eyes as if she’d come up with the plan and executed it single-handedly.
“Now,” Gwen said. “Can we all agree not to do anything until we’ve all agreed to do something?”
Eddy chuckled, and her lips turned up in response.
“Yes, Your Highness.” Theo saluted.
She ignored him. “Then I suggest we start by arming ourselves with knowledge. Like, how many dragons are there, and where are they?”
“Wouldn’t Eddy know?” Hazel asked.
“I thought I’d be rescued before I had to resort to killing the things. And then I couldn’t see them.”
“Then we’ll split up in the morning,” Gwen said. “Two in one direction, two in another. Hazel and Bay can keep the bonfire going.”
“I’ll go with Gwen,” Holic said with a glance at Theo.
Gwen shook her head. “We’ll go as we did before. No arguments.”
Surprisingly, they listened.
Bay popped a fig into her mouth and spoke around it. “Be back in time for the ball.”
“So we’re just going along with that?” Eddy asked.
Gwen looked him straight in his blue eyes. “Do you suggest we tell Sissi no?”
He thought for a moment. “No, you’re right. We’ll humor her. It’s harmless.” He looked as unsure as she felt.
*
Gwen woke early the next morning and fumbled her way to the door in the pitch black. She would clean up and surprise the girls with breakfast in bed.
When she returned with a tray of food, Holic sat beside the door with Bay, and Theo was pulling on his boots.
“Is Hazel awake yet?”
At the same moment Holic shook his head, Hazel screamed. Not an I’ve-seen-a-mouse scream. Something had frightened her badly. Holic jumped to his feet and grabbed the door handle.
Gwen put her hand over his. “Let me.” Proper nightgowns weren’t possible outside of the spelled rooms, and besides, there was nothing in Eddy’s room that could seriously harm them. With everything they’d been through lately, Hazel had likely had a bad dream. The twins were prone to them.
She knocked on the door. “Hazel, I’m coming in.”
“What?” Her voice hit a high note and cracked. “Gwen? Yes, come in.”
She opened the door, pushing Bay in ahead of her, and then lit the candle right away and set the tray down on the chest.
Bay gasped. “Your hair!”
Hazel sat on the edge of the bed, one hand to her head and tears spilling down her cheeks. The ends of her hair fell to just below her jawline, a little lopsided.
Someone had cut off her braid.
Hazel sniffed loudly. “How did this happen?”
Bay rushed over and hugged her.
Gw
en’s stomach churned. “Are you all right? Other than your hair?”
Hazel nodded.
She scoured the room for the braid but found nothing. Her instincts said there was only one other explanation.
“Sissi got in here last night.” She’d found the key.
Bay smoothed Hazel’s hair. “Why would she do that?”
Gwen shook her head. “She thinks she was born to be a queen, which, in her mind, means being entitled to all the best things. Anything she wants, she takes. But being in a position of authority is a serious job. She doesn’t know how to put others first. Hasn’t got a clue what it would take to be responsible for the well-being of so many people.”
Mother, the Queen of Ituria, knew how, with twelve daughters and no sons. Understandably, she’d never given them as much time as Gwen would have liked—which was one reason Gwen joined her sisters in their activities and helped with their lessons as often as she could. Sissi could never be a queen like Mother.
Neither could Gwen.
Hazel’s quiet sobbing pulled her back to the present. She sat beside her sister on the mattress and took one of her tear-wet hands.
“It’s silly, I know,” Hazel said with a hiccup. “With everything else going on, I shouldn’t care so much about my hair.”
“You should care that someone took what didn’t belong to them.”
Hazel’s sobbing increased.
Gwen got up and peeked out the door. “I need a knife.”
“What’s wrong?” Theo asked, trying to look over her shoulder into the room.
Gwen didn’t answer but held out her hand, waiting.
Eddy had joined his brothers, and he gave her his knife.
“Thank you. Hazel will be all right. Give us a few minutes, please.” She shut the door in Theo’s face.
Chapter Sixteen
With her back to the girls, Gwen sawed at her own braid with the knife, not even bothering to pull it over her shoulder.
“What are you doing?” Bay shrieked.
Someone banged on the door. “Let me in!” Holic yelled.
“We’re fine!” Gwen yelled back. “Just a minor fashion emergency. We’ll be out soon. Go eat something.”
A long pause, and then booted feet retreated down the hallway.
Hazel sat as if frozen, wide eyes focused on the length of hair in Gwen’s hand. She sniffled. “Why are you chopping off your own hair?”
“It got you to stop crying, didn’t it? Took your mind off yourself.”
Hazel used the back of her sleeve to wipe her nose. A small smile emerged. “You really would make a good queen.”
Gwen huffed. “Well, forget it. I’m not marrying Eddy.”
“Who said I was talking about Eddy?”
“Oh, well… .” She didn’t want to get into marriage talk. “I need to finish what I started here.”
After she sliced off the rest of the braid, she peeked into the hall again and was relieved to see Eddy.
She stuck her arm out and handed him the knife. “Are there any scissors in this place? Other than the ones you broke.” He’d stepped on his scissors when she forgot to put them away. She hadn’t been concerned, thinking they would be rescued before anyone else needed a haircut.
He shook his head. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
She double-checked that Hazel had finished dressing and then opened the door, hiding behind it as he entered.
He stopped just inside. “You cut Hazel’s hair?”
She closed the door. “No.”
He glanced at her and did a double take. “You cut your hair, too?” He looked back and forth between them. “I don’t get it. Is this because of the ball?”
Hazel laughed and then inhaled on a sob.
“That little bug girl sneaked in during the night,” Bay said.
“Hazel was upset about her hair,” Gwen said with a shrug, “so I cut mine, too.”
He fingered the ragged ends, a half incredulous, half amazed look on his face.
“I would talk with Sissi if I thought it would do any good.” His gaze flicked from her hair to her eyes. “Do you still want to go scouting today?”
“Absolutely. I just wish I could fix Hazel’s hair first. You’re sure there are no scissors?”
“Just my knife.”
She sighed. “I can’t do anything with that.”
“It’s just a matter of shaving the ends until they’re even. Like when I’m carving, you remove a little at a time until it’s the shape you want.”
Perfect. She grabbed his hands. “You have to help her.”
He gulped. “Don’t look at me like that.”
She gave him her best puppy-wants-a-bone expression.
He growled, and it turned into a sigh. “All right. I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.” She plopped down on the floor. “I’ll go first.”
“Uh…”
“For practice.” And to make sure he could do it before putting Hazel in his hands.
Hazel cleared her throat. “Would you two like my opinion on this at all?”
Gwen’s face flushed, but she wouldn’t back down. “No.”
“Yes,” Eddy countered.
Traitor.
“Brush it out first.”
Oh. At least she wasn’t putting up a fuss.
Eddy beat her to the comb and pulled it through her hair. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine it was one of her sisters, but his hands were too gentle. Or her hair was too short now, and there were no tangles to snag. Either way, if felt… nice. She rarely let anyone but her sisters care for her in such a way.
She could get used to this.
Bay and Hazel whispered into the silence too low for her to make out their words.
He tossed the comb aside and worked the knife through the ends of her hair. She squeezed her eyes closed tight against the tearing sound—he couldn’t possibly make it any worse.
“There. Done.”
“Already?” She opened her eyes and shook her head, her hair grazing her shoulders, almost floating against her cheeks. “I feel light enough to fly.” What would it feel like to ride horseback with her hair so short?
“It looks real nice,” Bay said.
She wanted a mirror and was half tempted to sneak into Sissi’s room again so she could see his handiwork. “Thank you, Eddy.”
He smiled. “My pleasure.” His voice cracked on the last word. He cleared his throat and spoke in an exaggeratedly deep voice. “Next.”
Hazel took her place on the floor and tucked her hands under her legs, back straight, neck stiff. Eddy eased the comb through her hair. Frowning, he lifted the ends and inspected her neck, and then he parted the hair to look at her scalp.
“What is it?” Hazel said.
“There’s dried blood in your hair.”
Gwen approached and stood by his elbow. Powdery, rust-colored bits flecked Hazel’s shoulders. “Looks like it’s just at the ends.”
Bay checked the door handle. “There’s dried blood here, too.”
“Hazel would have woken up if she’d been cut,” Eddy said. “The blood belongs to Sissi, or to whatever she was hunting.”
“Hunting?” Bay asked.
“For her clothes. Her creations. Guess she couldn’t face the competition.”
Gwen shivered. Sissi had been in this room with them, armed with a knife, and all she’d taken was hair. It could have been so much worse.
Eddy turned back to Hazel and chatted as he ran the blade down the golden strands. By the time he finished, her hands rested comfortably in her lap and soft waves fell at her jawline.
They thanked him profusely, and he ducked out of the room grinning and mumbling about food and bonfires and dragons.
After settling Hazel and Bay in the courtyard, she and the brothers headed to the boundary line. She’d been grateful for their polite comments during breakfast and their silence about Sissi’s behavior. Eddy had obviously explained things to them and right
ly guessed Hazel’s reluctance to talk about it.
There were no constraints now. She had to know how Sissi sneaked past a grown man.
“I never saw Sissi,” Theo said as they walked, “but I did see Bay leave. I assumed she was going to the bathing room again and fell back asleep. I didn’t think anything about it.”
“Bay says she never left the room,” Eddy said.
“Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” she asked Theo.
He scowled. “Yes. I’m sure.”
Holic spoke up. “Maybe you weren’t dreaming, but maybe you weren’t quite awake, either. You could have mistaken Sissi for Bay in the dark.”
Unlikely, but not impossible. They were both small. It made more sense than when Bay had mistaken Sissi for Hazel running through the forest.
“I know what I saw,” Theo mumbled, but thankfully, he didn’t argue.
When they reached the first dragon at the boundary, they split up. She and Eddy trudged at a steady pace, keeping track of the numbers. A few dragons twitched or lurched to their feet as they passed but then retreated as soon as their captives stepped back towards the interior of the invisible circle.
She inhaled deeply, soaking in the familiar scents of pine and pansies and a steamy forest full of life.
Eddy’s eyes scanned back and forth, up and down, taking in the sights. At first. After counting five dragons, his gaze strayed more and more to her face, but only when she seemed to be looking away. His fingers fidgeted, and he looked like he wanted to say something.
She waited. A couple of squirrels chittered and darted among the canopy, dodging web filaments and passing right over the head of another dragon, free to come and go as they pleased. The poor weavers. Like all dragons, they hated sorcery passionately, and because their flight was so limited, they wouldn’t move beyond the stone guardians. They were trapped here just like the humans.
She counted three more dragons, and still Eddy remained silent. She could be mistaken, but there was one way to find out.
“What’s on your mind?” she asked.
He looked straight at her, startled, and walked into a clump of ferns. As soon as he waded out, he ducked his head, glancing sideways at her again. “I was just wondering…” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to ask you if… never mind.”
