by M. A. Larson
“Please, please, ladies and gentlemen, do try to remain calm.” Evie studied the Headmistress. She was surprised to find herself feeling somewhat angry. Beatrice spoke to the parents in an entirely different tone than she used with the cadets—with them she was warm, even friendly. “It’s been a trying night, but I’ve just been told that nearly everyone has been found. Of the three who remain missing, two are Princesses of the Shield. I have no doubt that we shall recover them quickly.”
Tell that to Sage, thought Evie ruefully.
“I know you were expecting to be home in your own beds by now, but it seems the Fates had other plans.”
“The witches had other plans!” yelled the father of a third-class cadet.
“Indeed, but you must rest assured that we here at Pennyroyal Academy have things well in hand. Hug your families tightly and enjoy a warm meal. You are safe now. With respect to the witches, we have seen it all before. Birds have been dispatched to our surrounding kingdoms. Before long, help will arrive to assist in clearing and holding the roads to get you back to your homes. Until then, take comfort in the fact that you are almost certainly safer here behind our wall than anywhere else. Now, please, enjoy our hospitality and leave the rest to us.”
The buzz of voices started up, punctuated by bouts of laughter. Beatrice’s speech had worked. Families hugged and shared stories about the frightening experience, their fears put to rest by the steadying hand of the Headmistress General.
“Seems to me they should have been ready for this,” said Marline, taking another bite of meat.
“How could anyone have predicted it?” said Maggie. “It was a sneak attack!”
“They put the bloody Warrior Princess on an ordinary coach only one year removed from graduation with guards to protect from the Vertreiben but not from witches. That’s tossing meat in a bear’s den.” A huge chunk of turkey came off in her teeth and flopped against her chin.
Evie’s stomach began to sink. “Are you saying this happened because of me—er, I mean, the Warrior Princess?”
Marline shrugged, sifting through some peas with her fingers and pulling out the carrots. She popped a few in her mouth, then tossed a few over to her hawk. “What, you think it was some random attack like Beatrice over there? All I know is I’ve just spent three years being told how cunning the witches are and how they can’t stand working together. But that looked awfully coordinated to me.”
Evie crinkled her forehead, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. It was terribly difficult to do with such happy music playing.
Suddenly, the doors burst open. Another group entered, though this was altogether different from the last. Three heavily armored guards came through first, followed by a man in black armor and furs. Behind the man was a first-class knight cadet with dark, longish hair and a doublet embroidered in the scarlet and black of Huntsman Company.
“Look!” said Maggie. “It’s Forbes!”
“Beatrice!” called the man in the furs. He was cut from granite, with a silver beard and a sour, sneering face. Evie recognized him from the end of her first year of training. His name was King Hossenbuhr, Forbes’s father, and if the stories were to be believed, he was a rotting lemon of a man. “What is the meaning of this? Why have I found my boy in the woods, cowering from witches?”
Forbes’s face dropped in embarrassment.
“King Hossenbuhr!” said Beatrice. She left the group of parents she was with and went over to him. “You weren’t listed on our coaches. What are you doing here?”
“I’ve only just arrived. I had the novel idea of seeing my son advance with his class. I never expected witches to be my welcoming party.”
“Yes, well, you’re safe here now behind our wall. Come, please, have some supper. One of our knight cadets will clear space for you in the barracks.”
“Barracks?” He glanced back at his guardsmen with a face like a dried-out sponge. “I’d prefer something a bit more . . . defensible, if it’s all the same.”
“We are behind an impenetrable field of magic, Your Majesty,” said Beatrice. “You are safer here than in your own kingdom.”
“Yes, well, I’d have to be, wouldn’t I? Diebkunst has fallen.”
“Oh . . .” said Beatrice, flustered. “Oh, I’m so terribly sorry.”
Evie glanced at Forbes, who was staring at the floor. Her heart went out to him.
“If you’d like something with more traditional defenses,” said Beatrice, “you are more than welcome to stay in Copperhagen Keep.”
“Fine. And I’ll take my supper there as well, if you please.”
“O-of course,” stammered Beatrice. “Corporal Liverwort, show the King and his men to Copperhagen Keep, please. Send some food round as well.”
“Aye, Mum.”
The King and his retinue turned to go. Forbes’s eyes met Evie’s, then quickly looked away as he ducked out into the night.
“For a man whose son used to be a pig,” said Maggie, “the King seems to have awfully little faith in magic.”
“I don’t know,” said Evie. “You can’t really blame him for wanting thicker walls if his kingdom’s just fallen.” She swirled her fork through her potatoes without eating any. A moment later, Beatrice strode up to the end of their table, a prim smile on her face.
“Well, then, ladies, how are we getting on? Have you been to see Princess Wertzheim in the Infirmary?”
“Not yet,” said Evie.
“After supper, then.” She tapped her fingers lightly on the table. “Listen, girls, I’d like to ask a favor of you.”
Evie glanced up at Beatrice, utterly flummoxed. “A favor? From us?”
“Of course, Headmistress,” said Maggie. “Anything we can do to help.”
“I’m afraid our nerves are all a bit frayed. We could really use your help making everyone feel welcome here at our home. I’ve been asking cadets, knights, and princesses if they wouldn’t mind showing our guests around a bit tomorrow. Give them a feel for what we do here. Maybe lead them through a training exercise or two—”
Marline snorted out a laugh, then quickly recovered. “Sorry, Princess.”
Beatrice scowled, but continued. “Many people spend their whole lives without encountering a witch. Though they are all fine now, this has to have been difficult for them. It will put quite a lot of hearts at ease if they can see how well prepared we are for such things. And I’m sure many of them have always wondered what our training regime looks like.”
“Right, I’ll just say it,” said Marline, an incredulous smile on her face. “You want us to play at being princesses to entertain these people? Sorry, Mum, but that’s madness.”
“Cadet, that is—”
“I’m not a cadet. I’m a princess, same as you,” said Marline, though she was only a year older than Evie and Maggie.
“Be that as it may, this is still my command,” said Beatrice, her face suddenly clenched into its usual stony glare. “And get that bird off my table.”
Marline stood. She gave the slightest nod, and the hawk bounded off the table and landed on her shoulder. “You lot can play princess if you like,” she said, her eyes still fixed on Beatrice. “I’m going down to the wall to see if I can’t help find those last three.” She strode away, leaving Beatrice fuming.
“We’ll help however we can,” said Maggie.
Beatrice’s cold stare followed Marline out of the Dining Hall. Only then did Maggie’s words register. “Thank you. None of us would choose to be here under these circumstances, but the least we can do is make it bearable for our guests. Help them find a nice bunk, get them situated in the barracks, and do whatever you can to keep their spirits light, yes? Show them that not only do we prepare for our enemies here at the Academy, but we also enjoy a bit of fun.”
“Of course, Headmistress,” said Maggie.
“Excellent.” She turned to go.
“Headmistress?” said Evie. “I know we’re safe now, but it was pretty bad out there . . .” She didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Thankfully, Beatrice seemed to understand her meaning anyway.
“Every single bird in the Mews has been sent, Cadet. I wouldn’t be surprised if help arrives before dawn. But even if it does take a bit longer, the wall is here to protect us. As long as we’re patient and keep our spirits up, we’ll be absolutely fine.” She gave them both a nod, then moved on to the next table. Evie looked over at Maggie and raised an eyebrow.
“What? You don’t believe her?”
“If everything’s going to be fine, why send every bird we’ve got?”
Maggie sighed and shook her head.
“What? It doesn’t sound a bit desperate to you?”
“It was probably just a figure of speech. I’m sure she doesn’t mean every single bird.”
Evie’s eyes fell to the table. Something was niggling at her, but she couldn’t place what it was. “Sage was turned to stone right in front of my eyes. I do believe Beatrice, but . . .” She took a deep breath and shook her head. “It’s still scary.”
“Well, that is certainly true,” said Maggie. “Scariest night of my life.”
“Mine, too.” A chill ran through Evie’s body as a thought entered her mind. Scariest night of my life until the next one.
“THAT’S IT, MOTHER!” called Cadet Nadele, one of the girls who had been with Evie since her first day in Ironbone Company. “You look just like a real princess!”
They were gathered at the Marketplace, an open-air reproduction of a typical high street found in any of the major kingdoms. The packed dirt road was lined with replica stalls offering everything from fresh produce to carved walking sticks, all beneath a blanket of white clouds. This was where first-class cadets would hone their instincts, trying to detect which of the hand-painted “merchants” was a witch in disguise, thanks to an enchanted cloak that simulated the feel of a nearby witch. The cadets would practice using their courage as they walked the Marketplace, but the parents and siblings would have to make do with small rocks.
“It’s quite creepy!” said the woman currently attempting the exercise. She had her stone at the ready and a smile on her face. “I think I might feel something rather dark up ahead.”
“That’s it!” called Nadele. “That’s the witch! Remember, she’ll look like anyone else, so you’ve got to trust your instincts.”
The first spring-loaded merchant popped forward, causing the woman to scream and fall to the dirt. When she saw it was only a piece of wood painted to look like a flower seller, she laughed with embarrassment. The rest of the crowd was abuzz, eager for their turn at the princess training exercise. Evie and Maggie, however, stood far at the back, their arms crossed, their faces glum.
“It sounded like a fine idea last night,” said Maggie, “but this is just silly.”
On that, Evie could agree. Through a gap between a castle and a cathedral, she could see the whole of the Pennyroyal Castle courtyard. There, beneath the giant statues and the fountain, stood Princess Beatrice. She was addressing her staff. Evie could see the backs of some of those with higher rank: Princess Rampion, Princess Copperpot, Sir Schönbecker, and a handful of others. She knew what they were talking about, and yet she longed to hear about the attacks with her own ears.
Another merchant sprang out. Everyone screamed, and then everyone laughed. Evie kept her eyes on Beatrice and her team. She had done some figuring while her fellow cadets entertained their families. She estimated that there were roughly forty cadets on campus, almost evenly split between princesses and knights. That number included those who had graduated only yesterday and were not technically cadets any longer. In addition to that, there was a slightly larger number of parents, grandparents, and siblings of the cadets, perhaps fifty in total. But the staff . . . the staff she couldn’t quite get a handle on.
“Maggie . . . where is everyone?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Look over there.” She flicked her chin toward Beatrice and her group. “I know there are more down by the wall, but is that the entire staff?”
Maggie looked at Beatrice and her group, disturbed. “Well, they did send loads of them home early, remember?”
The crowd cheered as the woman hit a wooden merchant with a stone, but neither Evie nor Maggie looked over.
“There are a few deadly ones, like Rampion and Copperpot, but look at the rest of them. They’re all either fresh out of the Academy or have one foot in retirement.” Most of those gathered were indeed very young or very old. These were the administrators apprenticing in the Crown Castle or broken-down knights many years removed from their last dragon battle. Young or old, these people were more familiar with quills and parchments than courage and compassion at this stage in their careers. Evie recognized a few of them—Sir Osdorf, the uptight knight who had taught the cadets how to dance for the Grand Ball; Princess de Boncouer, the quiet second-class instructor who was one year from retirement; Princess Rahden, an administrator only a few years older than Evie who was already deeply versed in the mountains of paperwork that made the Academy go. The others she had only seen in passing. “Where are all the fairies? Where are the trolls?”
“Good question,” said Maggie with a sigh. “Of all of them, I wish Princess Hazelbranch was still here.”
“Me too. If she said everything was all right, I might actually believe it.”
Through the voices of the crowd, they could hear distant shouting from somewhere deep in the forest. Beatrice and the others craned their necks toward the wall. There were more faint shouts. Several of the gathered staff began to run down the hill.
“What’s going on?” said Maggie. The cathedral blocked their view of the road and the wall and whatever was down there causing the commotion.
“Help!” came a distant shout, this time as clearly as a raven’s squawk.
Evie’s eyes shot open. “That’s Marline!”
“Come on!” said Maggie. They raced away from the Marketplace and blasted past Beatrice and the others. “Look! Evie, that’s Demetra!”
Sure enough, down at the break in the wall where the coaches passed through stood two figures. One was Marline. The other, screaming and terrified, was Demetra. There were a handful of staff there as well, but they were inside the magical barrier.
Evie and Maggie sprinted down the rutted road. “Demetra!” shouted Evie.
“Hurry!” screamed Demetra, her eyes wide in horror. “Help us, please!”
As Evie and Maggie reached the bottom of the hill, where it evened out and sloped gently through the grass all the way to the wall, they could see the small contingent of knights and princesses fumbling helplessly to lift the magic. “We need a fairy!” bellowed one of the princesses. “Someone get us a fairy!”
Two more figures broke out of the forest and raced toward the wall. Then a handful more.
“Basil!” shouted Evie.
“Lift the wall!” he screamed. “Let us in!”
“Where are the bloody fairies?” bellowed Princess Copperpot. “We’ve got to get these people inside!”
“I didn’t come out here to rescue these people only to die at the wall!” yelled Marline through a mad smile.
“The fairies are coming!” said Princess Rampion, racing down from campus. “Hang on, cadets!”
It was chaos. The group trapped beyond the wall pressed against the invisible curtain of magic designed to keep them out. Inside, no one could do a thing to help them. Then, deep in the forest, there came a violent rumble. Evie’s breath caught in her throat. The ground vibrated again, followed by several immense cracks . . . ancient trees snapping at their trunks.
“They’re right behind us!” screamed Demetra. “Please!”
�
��Who’s right behind you?” Evie had never felt so helpless. Her friends were just there, nothing between them but an invisible magic barrier. Then she noticed a face amongst the group that she hadn’t expected. “Remington!”
“Hello, Evie,” he said with a smile, though it barely masked his panic. “Any progress on that fairy?”
“This is unacceptable!” shrieked Copperpot. “Never have I tasted such foulness!”
Another earth-shaking rumble sounded in the distance. Evie felt it more than heard it. “What is that?”
“There!” shouted Basil, pointing up the hill. “There she is!”
“Coming! Coming!” came a small, thin voice. It was the Fairy Drillsergeant. When she arrived, she looked a mess, as though she hadn’t slept in days.
“And just where were you?” bellowed Copperpot.
“Sorry, Princess, our fairy on duty fell ill and she’d only just come to tell us. We hadn’t had the chance to relieve her yet—”
Another deafening snap echoed through the forest, this one closer than the last.
“What is that?” said Evie in horror.
The Fairy Drillsergeant wielded her wand, and a faint shimmer rippled through the air. The survivors pounced through the opening in the stone wall, and the Fairy Drillsergeant lowered her wand, sealing them all inside.
Trees broke apart and thundered to the ground just inside the forest.
“Run!” screamed Demetra. All of them bolted up the hill. Evie, however, found her feet rooted to the spot. She stared with wide, horrified eyes at whatever was coming through the trees.
And then it emerged, knocking over pines like marsh reeds. It was a giant. He stood nearly as tall as the tallest trees and wider than most of them. His arms were enormous, bulging so thick that his shoulders nearly swallowed his head. Around his waist, he wore breeches comprising hundreds of furs and animal skins. He was shirtless and so utterly swollen with muscles that he didn’t appear to have a neck. His entire body was slashed with scars. A matted red beard poured down over his chest beneath a slobbering mouth littered with black teeth. His head was a bald lump peeking out from between his shoulders with two bulging eyes staring straight across the forest to where the Academy stood.
