“Come on,” Juniper said. “It’s time we had some introductions all around.”
“What do you have in mind, Juniper?” Erick asked nervously.
Juniper looked at him. More than anything, she wanted to pull him aside and tell him her plan—as rough and unformed as it still was—and get his opinion. Alta’s, too. But, if she was honest, this scheme of hers was as holey as mouse-eaten cheese. Putting it into words might do it in altogether. If she stopped moving right now, she knew she could spend hours thinking, talking, strategizing, examining all sides of the issue, narrowing down the best thing to do. They’d come up with a great plan, she was sure—a plan infinitely better than the slipshod one she had now.
But time was passing.
All she really had right now was speed and the element of surprise.
“Just trust me,” she said to Erick, “and follow my lead. If all goes as I’m hoping, we’ll soon have a ripsnorter of a gathering on our hands.”
They pushed out of the tree cover into the clearing at the far edge of the village. The first thing Juniper noticed was a vaguely sulfurous smell in the air. What on earth?
As Juniper had expected, the entire Anju tribe was gathered at the hillock. But while the mood at their last evening gathering had been one of relaxed revelry, this one held an air of frenzied excitement that bordered on mania.
Then she saw the reason: the huge, mud-gray mound of a body sprawled halfway up the slope and stretching down the other side.
“Is that . . . ?” said Cyril.
Tippy bumped up behind her. “Oh, Mistress Juniper, the feared draco! That girl has conquered it?”
Had Zetta not only defeated the draco, but managed to bring its body back to the camp, the better to display her victory? In spite of her fury at Zetta’s betrayal, Juniper couldn’t suppress a flicker of admiration. That girl had spine, all right!
Given the monster carcass in their midst, it took a few minutes for the gathered Anju to notice the new arrivals. But not long after, a shout went up, and heads began to swing in their direction.
Juniper’s eyes were all for the draco. She could see only its rear flank from where she stood. It looked like a giant lizard, with a long neck and scaly skin that glinted bronze in the morning light. Its curved talons still gripped the earth, and its snout—Juniper’s eyes widened. The creature’s snout had been tied with a jaunty violet scarf. Upon its back sat Zetta, one leather-clad leg splayed out to either side of its wide neck. Her head was high and her eyes blazed. This moment was her stage, and she basked full in its light.
Zetta spotted Juniper.
There was a moment’s hesitation, a blink of uncertainty. Then the girl narrowed her eyes and squared her shoulders.
Juniper pushed ahead of her group and strode across the open space. She shook off the glamorous image this moment created: Zetta, straddling the corpse of the defeated draco, the acknowledged ruler of her people. No. They were Juniper’s people, too—her mother’s people. This was her heritage. And these were the people she needed. Eglantine’s letter had made that clearer than ever.
If she wanted to save Torr, to save her father, she needed one thing above all else: She needed an army. And there was nowhere she could get one but here.
Juniper stomped up to the center of the mound. Odessa and the three other Elders, who had been looking at Zetta, now turned toward Juniper. Their faces blanched.
As Juniper gathered herself to speak, Zetta slid down the draco’s motionless flank, moving with practiced ease.
“Hello, blood sister,” Zetta said. “Have you come to join in my celebration of victory?”
“Victory?” Juniper said calmly. “I’m not so sure about that.”
Zetta cocked her head. “You must remember the third test. That parchment we all read out yestermorning?” She motioned behind her. “Greatest threat to our people, subdued and under control, as ordered.” She winked. “Not quite so much of a threat anymore, hmmm?”
Juniper mashed her lips tight together, but didn’t say anything. She let the silence spool out from her like a warm wind, renewing her strength and purpose.
“Well?” Zetta said. Her fingers tapped against the side of her thigh. “What are you waiting for? Why did you even bother coming back, after your cowardly retreat and abdication of the final test?”
Juniper waited another long minute, then she turned her back on Zetta. She faced Odessa and the Elders, who studied her intently. The Elders’ expressions ranged from uncertain to openly hostile; Odessa looked like she’d had her chair kicked out from under her. “Elders of the Anju,” Juniper said, “it is my honor to return before you this day.”
“What is it you want, child?” barked a gruff man on the far edge of the row. “You are disrupting the proceedings, again. Will we ever be rid of you?”
A murmur went up at his words, something between agreement and discomfort.
Juniper’s eyes narrowed. “No. No, you will not! My mother was Anju, and she never stopped being Anju. Adopting another culture does not have to mean turning your back on your roots. Accepting a new present should not force you to reject your past. My mother suffered from lack of connection to her people. I saw evidence of this every moment of her life.” She paused to compose herself.
“But that’s not why I’m here today. If there is anything my mother taught me by example, it was the importance of honor. This same sentiment I heard echoed in your own words”—she inclined her head at Odessa—“upon the launch of the first test. ‘Dignity and integrity,’ weren’t those the qualities we candidates were principally to emulate? ‘Honor above all else’? Your chieftain should act ‘always in support of her people, down to the smallest member’?”
There was a moment of silence.
Then Odessa quoted faintly, “This is the primary rule, and the one that shall be paramount to all others.”
Juniper nodded. “That’s what I heard, too.” She turned and waved a hand toward the Queen’s Basin group, which stood puddled at the far edges of the Anju’s circle. “I have not come here alone today. I have brought the members of my own small colony, Queen’s Basin, lately established in the valley over yonder. All of you likely know that I failed the third and final test—abandoned it midstream, as it were. But do you all know why I had to do this?”
“I don’t see why that should matter!” Zetta said loudly. “I have completed the final test. I have—”
“You have lied, and cheated, and manipulated. You have not acted with integrity or dignity. Rather, you deliberately pointed me to a faulty mine—a forbidden mine, a fact of which you knew I was not aware—all in hopes of precipitating a deadly flood that would force me to withdraw from the Trials. Evidently this worked even better than you’d expected, pulling me right out of a contest you must have known I would win.”
Zetta opened her mouth to protest, but Juniper barreled on. “I rushed back to my settlement, yes—and I will have you know that Cyril and I barely made it in time. The flood came scant minutes after we did. Much of our colony was destroyed in the onrush, but I was able to bring every member to safety . . . with not a single moment to spare. Do you see?” She held up her hands, the backs still scoured red by the scalding steam. “Do you see how close we came? Do you see the cost of betrayal from this girl, this one who proclaims herself fit to be your ruler?”
Zetta looked stunned. “But I—it wasn’t like that—I thought—”
“You thought only of yourself. You had no thought for anyone else. I would now ask the Elders whether that is the type of leader they would have over the Anju people.”
The crowd buzzed. The Elders raised their eyebrows, leaned in, and began to mutter among themselves. Zetta turned her back on Juniper, shoulders shaking. Then she suddenly turned to face her again.
“No,” Zetta said. “No, I do not accept this.”
The Elders
looked up from their discussion.
“Yes, Juniper, I led you astray on purpose. You should know that I did not intend to cause any danger or harm; clearly I miscalculated the force of your . . . energy. But I don’t regret what I did, not for a moment. You say you didn’t know any better than to proceed to that cave? If you were truly one of us, you would have.” Zetta squared her stance. “We are Anju. Say what you like, but we are not your people. I know of your war, this Monsian invasion that you want so badly to repel. You seek only to use my people, to seize them as a commodity and turn them to your purposes. And what will you do with us after that is accomplished? Move us into your precious palace to live your pretty packaged life?”
Juniper flushed. “Is that really how you want to gain your right to be chief, through such underhanded means?”
Zetta looked her straight in the eye. “I will do whatever it takes.”
“Be that as it may. You’ve broken the bylaws of the Trial. I say that I am the only fair candidate remaining.” Juniper turned to face the Elders. None of them would meet her gaze, except Odessa, who studied her thoughtfully.
“We recognize your challenge, Juniper, daughter of Alaina,” Odessa said formally. “Now, give us some time while we reach a decision.”
• • •
The verdict did not take long in coming. The Elders buzzed and chattered and stormed. But at last they all sat down, and the wizened old man who had spoken so curtly to Juniper raised his voice like a dirge. “So let it be recognized by the people. Zetta, daughter of Darla, has broken our most solemn custom of always acting first and foremost with truth and integrity and honor.”
He turned toward Odessa, who spoke in turn. “Juniper, daughter of Alaina, you abdicated your role in the third test. However, now that the circumstances have been brought to light, it is evident that all is not as it first seemed. Your task was to identify the greatest danger to our people, to seek out and engage it, to subdue and bring this element under control and thus to eliminate its threat. It has been argued—” Odessa swallowed, and Juniper wondered if the arguing had come from her. “It has been argued that you followed this rule exactly. Those of your settlement are your people, and it is hard not to regard that out-of-season flood as the greatest of threats. Sacrificing your place in the Trials to save them showed true leadership, courage, and honor.”
The elder resumed his speech. “So let it be acknowledged on this day: Zetta, daughter of Darla, is hereby disqualified from the Trials. The rulership of our people must pass to the next qualified candidate”—he barely choked on the words, to his credit—“Juniper, daughter of Alaina.”
A stunned silence met his words, then a thin cheer arose. Juniper could see the gathered Anju sizing her up, measuring her worth. She checked inside herself, waiting for the rush of pure joy that should accompany such a moment.
She’d won. She’d won! She would soon be in command of the Anju people.
She had gained the army she needed to take back to Torr—and not just this small group, but the promise of a web of interconnected warriors located throughout the Hourglass Mountains, every one of them at her disposal to descend upon the Monsian invaders and put them to rout.
She was going to save her father!
“The officiating ceremony will take place this night at moonrise. The oath will be sworn and the leather chieftain’s band bestowed. For now, let us all adjourn and get the necessary preparations under way.”
The Anju began to disperse, though more than one sidled up to clasp Juniper’s hand and murmur words of congratulation and welcome. The Queen’s Basin group clustered around, too, clapping and smiling at Juniper’s success. Even Cyril bobbed his chin with a mock-scornful eye-roll that could not hide his pride at her win. It crossed Juniper’s mind that pushing out Zetta was just the kind of underhanded maneuver he would be proud of. Immediately she felt ashamed of this thought.
Meanwhile, off to the side and all but forgotten, Zetta stood alone. One hand trailed on her fallen draco’s flank. Her gaze was fixed upon the distant woods.
Juniper swallowed a lump in her throat. She reminded herself how Zetta had tricked her, how she had been the one who first stooped to underhanded means. Juniper had only acted in her own defense. She wouldn’t feel sorry for that girl, she wouldn’t.
Then a series of things happened in quick succession.
Zetta seemed to come out of her trance. With a glare in Juniper’s direction, she circled around the prone monster. She scrambled up its flank and settled herself into the hollow of its shoulders.
The great draco . . . shook itself.
It stood up on all four paws.
Then it spread its mighty wings and lifted off into the glowering sky.
23
AFTER ZETTA’S DEPARTURE, JUNIPER HAD A hard time focusing on her surroundings. Once the shock of the draco’s flight wore off, the other kids were quickly absorbed by the friendly Anju. They split into groups to explore the village, view the Memory Wall, or test their skills on the ropes course of the Climbing Tree. But Juniper, after several vain efforts at making pleasant conversation, finally gave up and excused herself. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake off the image of Zetta astride the great draco, winging up like a projectile into the bright morning sky.
So, the monster had not been dead. That much was plain as crabgrass. It hadn’t come as a surprise to the Anju, either.
But then how had it sat there so still through all the proceedings? Had Zetta drugged it? Or tamed it somehow? The more Juniper thought, the more antsy she got. While the rest of the settlers spent their time until the evening ceremony in various forms of exploring and relaxation, Juniper knew she wouldn’t be able to settle until she learned what had gone on with Zetta.
Finally she whispered to Erick that she was going to go out for a bit on her own. She eased her way out of the camp. A light snow had begun to fall, and Juniper wrapped her cloak more tightly around herself.
She set her body in the direction of the Claw, and began to climb.
• • •
It took hours. The task was made the more challenging by the patches of ice and the sharp snowdrifts frosted all along the edges of her upward climb. She kept a hard pace, though, never stopping for more than a minute at a time, determined to reach her destination as quickly as possible. She wasn’t sure she’d find Zetta there—but then, where else would she have gone?
At last she made it. The Claw loomed witchlike against the pale murky sky, with sunset rapidly approaching and the snow whispering down. Juniper scrambled up the narrow stone walkway that led to the topmost crag. The draco was nowhere to be seen, but a wisp of smoke curled from the shadowed opening. From within came a stuttering, snoring sound.
In front of the cave was a large rounded boulder. On the boulder sat Zetta, feet crossed beneath her, hands resting in the hollow of her lap. A pair of claw-tipped Anju boots sat neatly on the rock next to her. Zetta seemed to be awaiting Juniper’s arrival, a fact that surprised Juniper until she realized that, of course, she would have been visible for the last hour or more of her climb.
She was doubly glad to have kept up such a stiff pace. Torreans were no flatland rats!
When Juniper reached the landing, Zetta moved over to make room on her boulder. Not knowing what else to do, Juniper clambered up beside her. They studied the powdering sky in silence for several minutes.
Finally, Zetta said, “So. I suppose I should congratulate you. That was a bold move, confronting the Council like that. Risky, but it paid off.”
Juniper shrugged. She wasn’t going to deny it. She’d fought for this victory. And she needed it, she reminded herself again. This was no trivial contest; it was a matter of life or death for a whole nation. She opened her mouth to say this, but what came out instead was, “What did you do to that draco? I thought you’d killed it.”
Zetta laughed. “Kille
d him? Never.”
“I thought that was the challenge. Get rid of the mortal enemy and such.”
Zetta snorted. “One could argue that my greatest enemy is sitting right beside me.”
She had a point.
Juniper glanced around the little promontory, just now noticing a rustic lean-to erected against the side of the cave. A scattering of dishes. An old blanket. A handful of half-wilted snapdragons in a small clay vase. Realization dawned on her. “You’ve been coming up here,” she said. “Before the trial, even. You were preparing for this.”
Zetta considered her coolly. She stretched her arms behind her and leaned back. “It’s like they said. This draco has been the bane of our village for months. Flying by and torching the trees—our structures can take some battering, but not this much! Crashing into stuff. Generally wreaking havoc. Everyone was afraid of it. One of the Littles wandered off and was never found. The draco was seen on the wing shortly after, and everyone blamed the beast for poor Asha’s disappearance.”
Juniper was aghast. “It ate the child?”
Zetta shook her head and went on. “I wasn’t so sure. There was talk of gathering a party to mount an attack, but it never came together. No one had any idea what we might do against a beast of this type. So. I began doing my own scouting. I crept up here day after day, spying on the creature, learning its ways. Before long, I understood everything there was to know about this fearsome, fire-breathing beast. I began implementing a plan for how I might bring him around to a more peaceful place. And then . . .” She swallowed.
“Then, Chief Darla grew ill. Of course, that consumed all my time and attention, caring for my mother and adjusting to her deteriorating health. I was in no mood to even think of coming up here for a good while. Then . . . she passed on. We came to the Trials. And you know the rest.” Zetta tilted her head back and closed her eyes, letting the tiny snowflakes whisper down across her cheeks.
Princess Juniper of the Anju Page 18
