“Count Malandre,” says the captain of the guards. “Where is King Siles? We need to speak with him immediately. We thought you were with him?” His eyes fall on me, and I’m sure I look a sight covered in blood and bandages and the splint. He looks away, quickly.
“What’s wrong?” Adom asks, not answering the question about Siles’ whereabouts.
“We apprehended the individual responsible for poisoning your food.”
Adom sighs. “You found Cydra. That’s a relief.”
The guard frowns. “No, my lord. It wasn’t Cydra.”
“Then who—?” Adom freezes. Understanding dawns on his face. “It was Lady Celeste.”
“She swears she didn’t do it, but we found this in her chambers.” The guard pulls out a bag and hands it to Adom. He takes it, opens it, and sniffs it. “Princess Ora has more information. She’s the one who reported the strange activities Lady Celeste was involved in.”
Adom raises an eyebrow. “Such as?”
Even though we are far enough away from the crowd that we can’t be overheard, the guard lowers his voice. “The princess noticed Lady Celeste acting oddly this morning. She followed the lady into the woods. She was with one of the guards and…” he glances at me again. “When they didn’t return after lunch, Princess Ora reported it and I ordered a search of the woods. We found a cave.” The guard shakes his head. “She was torturing an old man there, sir.”
I glance at Adom and see him nodding, eyes wide with disbelief.
“We apprehended her, but we couldn’t find the guard or the handmaiden she was with. Then, when we searched her room, we found this vial of poison among her things.”
“The old man?” I ask, breathless. “Is he all right?”
The guard bobs his head. “We paid him a large sum to keep quiet and then we sent him along his way. There are guards with the lady now, trying to get information from her.”
Adom moves forward as if he’s forgotten me and the guards lead him toward the dungeon, speaking to the guards in low, urgent whispers. I hesitate and then decide that I don’t want to follow them, that I’d much rather fill Ryrick in on the details of my day and let him know that Patience is safe and will be back home soon.
Ryrick makes eye contact with me and the two of us start toward each other. But moments before I reach him, Princess Ora steps between us.
“I knew something was wrong this morning,” she says. “I thought when I heard the news about the old man that maybe she had killed you.” She stares at my shoulders. “Did she do that to you? Why? Was it for pleasure?” She grimaces. “Celeste liked pain, even in Academy.”
I can’t help but wonder what dark memories Princess Ora must be harboring to merit that comment. Instead of answering her question directly, I say, “Thank you for following us.”
She takes a moment to respond. “I do have a request to make of you.”
“What’s that?”
She reaches into a satchel and removes a piece of parchment. She holds it out, but doesn’t let go of it when I reach for it. “I suspect this list of names is valuable to you? The old man said it would be. He asked me to give it to you before he left.”
My breath hitches. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
Ora smiles slowly. “Under one condition.”
“Anything,” I gasp.
She steps forward as if embracing me in a hug. “Celeste didn’t put poison into the king’s cake. The evidence was planted in her room. Someone wanted her away for good.”
Suddenly, I can’t breathe. “Excuse me?” I rasp.
Princess Ora releases the parchment. “You take that list and give it to the right person,” she says softly. “We’ll speak more about this at a different time.”
I take the list and give it to Adom as soon as I find him, but I’m not sure what to make of my conversation with Princess Ora. Maybe she’s a dragon changeling. Maybe she’s a member of Paradigm. Then again, maybe she’s just in love with King Siles and is relieved that Celeste is out of the picture.
When the king returns, we lock ourselves away to begin the long debriefing process. I tell them about Celeste’s duplicity and how she and Grym had been holding Muuth inside a cave near the castle. I fill them in on Muuth’s warning, that there may be a sun’s acid fog on the twenty-third of Haymonth. And of course, we discuss the list of names at length. It isn’t complete, and most of the names we already know about. But there are one or two leads that Adom and Siles plan to follow up on, a few potential changelings.
Some days after the scorching, with my shoulders beginning to heal thanks to the salve Ryrick helps me apply and the stretches that Longley insists I do every day before coming to work, I find a gift box on my bed. When I open it, there is a chainmail vest, only instead of metal it is made of purple-speckled dragon scales. My heart swells. It is the same vest Patience was working on all those weeks ago. I’d presumed she found the scales in the forest and had been making the vest for her hunting trips. Now I know the scales are hers and that she never needed a vest like this anyhow. It was always meant for me. When I thank her for it later, she smiles fondly and doesn’t say a word.
Faigen wakes up after days in a comatose state. He clasps my hand, elated to find me by his bedside at last. As if caring for his broken body is a sign of my undying affection for him.
“Marry me,” he rasps through cracked lips.
“Not in a million winters,” I say, as kindly as I can manage, applying oil to his lips and squeezing his hand. “Though I am delighted to see you awake again, my lord.”
The twinkle in his eyes dulls slightly. “Did the knights catch her?”
I feel like I shouldn’t have to ask what her he referred to. But I need to understand Harminy’s motives. What would make her harm so many people? She was human, even related to Faigen. Why would she do such terrible things? “You showed her kindness, Theodore. Why did she do it?”
“Resentment and disappointment,” he says with care. “The world was a cruel place, and Harminy’s world was crueler than most. People cheated her constantly. Lords who wouldn’t pay after using—and abusing—her girls. Family who cursed her name and spat on her misfortune. Then she changed and discovered Cinderrider and the thrill of her new powers.”
I think of Salcom village, Faigen’s home town. Did Leviathan burn that town along with Cinderrider for revenge, to devastate her family for betraying her? What about the lords in the forest? Could those have been nobles who hired her or her girls but then refused to pay? But Leviathan couldn’t have done it, not alone. Her ability was ice liquid and the nobles were burned. I lean forward, hesitant to ask more questions when Faigen was still recovering but needing answers.
“Is she responsible for the deaths of Lord Darton and the other nobles? Is she the one who burned you?” I ask.
Faigen shook his head. “Once she met Cinderrider, she was like a slave. She did everything Cinderrider instructed her to do. Cinderrider wanted to burn villages. Harminy helped. She wanted to murder noblemen. Harminy picked the ones she knew from work and brought them to Cinderrider’s lair. She hid them in the king’s forest so they were noticed.”
Not a slave, I realize. A beta. Alphas can have that affect. “Why did she do it?”
“Cinderrider promised Harminy that if she helped, she would be elevated from her circumstances. She said Harminy would one day be the handmaiden to the queen. But first, they had to kill Count Malandre, ruin his plans, and allow Lady Celeste to marry the king.” His eyes swim with tears. “Harminy came to me for help. She tried to tell me about Cinderrider. Tried to tell me she was a changeling. But I didn’t listen. I only realized her involvement the day I saw a dragon in the king’s forest. I followed her and watched her change. Then she told me everything. And then Cinderrider appeared, and tried to kill me, but Harminy must have stopped her. I think she brought me back to the castle.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why is he so important?”
I fumble for the words. “Cinderrider clearly had a political agenda. She wanted to control the throne. But we won’t know how she planned to do that for a long while.”
“Do you know who she is? Is she a human like Harminy was?”
“The sister of Rhydian and Celeste Berrel. They thought she was dead.”
“Berrel was my friend. So was Malandre. When he asked me to wait for you by the brook in the country, I did so without question. For days. Do you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I believe in human goodness. And I believe that my friends are good. Even when they keep to themselves. Even when they clearly have secrets.”
“You could write a poem about it,” I joke.
“I think I will.”
EPILOGUE
Wide brown eyes stare solemnly at the world. And as the little boy gazes at a toy horse, the ghost of a smile creeps on his face. He rolls it along the edge of the porch. His ruddy cheeks and brown hair make him look almost angelic. The front door opens. An old woman hobbles out, gripping a cane in one hand. She leans to pat his head. Without warning, Nathaniel drops the toy and throws himself at the old woman’s feet. The woman releases the cane and stoops to enfold him. Her gnarled body seems withered next to his stout, flushed form.
Perched on the tree beside me, Adom watches with a somber veneer.
“So, this is what happened to him.” My voice breaks.
He says nothing for a moment. “Don’t tell the dragons.”
“Is that what you did for all the survivors? You found their families?”
He avoids my eyes. “There are two classes of survivor, Elanor. The human ones that survived the scorching when a rogue dragon burned their lands. I put those children up in my country homes where they are cared for until relatives are found who will take them in.”
“What’s the other group of survivors, Adom?”
“Children who, like Lord Berrel, can’t acknowledge that they have a terrible and dangerous secret. Changeling children.”
Every muscle in my body tightens. “And which am I, Adom? You brought me to Onyx, but I’ve never changed before.” The blood begins to pound in my temple. “I don’t think I’ve ever changed before.”
His silence perturbs me.
“Adom, please tell me that I’m not a changeling.”
“I don’t know, Elanor.”
“Then why would you bring me to Onyx? And why am I the only one you kept there?”
Adom looks to the east. The haunted look in his face sears my soul. Gently, he places a hand over mine. I flinch, instinctively expecting pain. He catches the look and draws back, his eyes reflecting both horror and self-loathing. “To answer that, I have to go back. Do you have time for a story?”
“As long as you don’t speak riddles, like Muuth, I’ll listen.”
“There was once a wealthy man who had a despondent son and lovely wife. The man was dark and cruel. He beat his wife and starved his son. He made them live in squalor and only showed kindness to them when they were in public. The man began to believe that there was something wrong about them, something evil. He hurt them more and more until it became unbearable for the wife. She took the boy and they left.”
“You’re telling me your story.”
“Yes.”
“But how does it connect to me?”
“For a while, my mother and I lived peacefully, away from the abuse. But he was merciless, and he couldn’t leave us alone. He heard of a dragon-killer roaming the land, murdering changelings. He hired the killer to help him track us. At last we were found, one frigid winter’s night, hiding in a cabin at the edge of a woods. The killer made quick work of my mother. He beheaded her in front of me.”
“Was your father there?”
“He was. But he only stayed for a few moments. To stare at the face of the woman he had married and to gloat that this was her punishment for leaving him. Then he left the killer to finish the job. I submitted. I fell over Mother and wept, but I didn’t fight back. I knew I was going to die.”
“So the killer spared you.”
“Not quite. The killer gave me a terrible task and said if I fulfilled it, I would live.”
“What was the task?”
“Mother was pregnant. The killer told me to take the baby out of the womb, go into the woods, and bury it under the permafrost. He wanted me to murder my own sibling.”
“And did you?” I ask, on a breath.
Returning once again to the safety of a narrative, Adom continues, “The boy turned his hand into a claw, and ripped open the mother’s womb. He took the baby out and cut the cord. There was blood everywhere, and the boy wanted to be sick. But when he heard the baby cry, when he looked into his little sister’s eyes for the first time, he loved her.” Adom turns hollow eyes onto mine. “He took the baby into the woods, but he didn’t bury her. He walked through the forest, to a neighboring farm. He took off his cloak and wrapped the baby up tight. He knocked on the door, fled to a nearby tree, and waited for someone to answer.”
“And someone did.”
He nods. “Someone did. The boy didn’t stay to see what happened next. He knew the killer would be waiting, and if he didn’t appear soon, he would be hunted. That they would both be hunted. So he went back, and told the killer he’d completed the task. He swore his allegiance to the killer, and vowed to do whatever the killer asked of him. The man took the boy to Onyx, where he was enslaved by the dragons and worked as their servant for many years until two dragons took pity on him and taught him the dragon way. They made him strong, yet still showed him kindness. When they were murdered, the boy left and went back to Trana, and that’s when he met the dragon king. I think you know most of the rest by now.”
“That’s a horrible story, Adom.” I put a hand over his. “I’m so ashamed. I shouldn’t have wasted so much energy hating you.” I bend my head so he can’t see the emotion in my eyes.
Adom says nothing. Nathaniel and his Grannie finish their loving embrace and enter the small house. Adom grabs the tree branch below us, folds his legs so his feet rests on the branch, and swings backward. For a moment, he hangs suspended over the ground. Then he lets go of the branch and lands on the ground with a thud. I follow his example, my mind overwhelmed.
So many questions had at last been answered these past few weeks. I don’t have to creep in order to avoid Adom’s wrath. I don’t fear him anymore. “I’m so sorry.”
Adom watches with deep, pain-filled eyes. “You must know, Elanor. I’ve always admired your courage, your resilience, your uncanny ability to cut right to the heart of every matter.” He shudders and lets out a breath. “I wish I had an ounce of your bravery.”
My whole life revolved around the prospect of revenge. I had planned to kill Adom, to avenge my family, to destroy the dragon herd. And what will that accomplish now? Absolutely nothing. I want so badly to hate someone. But not Adom. Not anymore.
We walk in silence. The world dims with the coming of twilight. Vibrant rays of orange fill the sky. A beautiful white dove rises out of the trees and soars toward the sun. “You didn’t answer my question,” I realize out loud. “Do you suspect I’m a changeling?”
He stops walking, his entire body tense and radiating shame. I hug my arms against the slight chill. “It’s past,” he says. “Please—let’s not discuss it. I can’t think…”
“But I have to talk about it.” I step closer. He shifts away, and his face hardens. “Adom, we h
ave all these unresolved… things.” I search for the right words. “You hurt me. And you let me hate you. Why did you keep me on Onyx? And why didn’t you tell me about your past?”
“Don’t,” he rasps, his voice breaking.
I sense untapped emotion boiling beneath the surface—a whole well of it he never once revealed. My heart dances in my chest. My freedom is secure. “Tell me.”
“Fine. But you won’t like it. The home I found you in after the dragon scorched your farmlands? It was the same home I’d left her at. The place I abandoned my infant sister.”
My mouth gapes open. “You think I’m…”
He nods. “You emerged from a pile of ashes. Unscathed. Your only memories of the event were of your parents screaming at you in terror and then shoving you into a cellar.”
“You think I did it. I changed and burned down my own home. Killed my own family.”
“I think...it’s very possible...that you have Malandre in your blood. I also think it’s possible you have dragon in your blood. Between those two things, I couldn’t let you go. I’ve tried interviewing people in your home town to see if anybody knew anything specific about the fire or your family, but so far I haven’t had any luck.”
I can’t wrap my mind around anything else he’s said. “You think I’m your sister?”
“Does that upset you?”
“Maybe.” I swallow several times and draw patterns in the dirt with the toe of my boot. “Could we go back to the compound? Talk to Odeba’s people again? One of them might know, might remember, something about that day. Some of them would have been around then.”
He nods. “That’s a good idea. Yes, once the compound is together again, I’ll take you there. We’ll talk to them, see if anybody knows about the fire at Avery village.”
Suddenly my throat is thick and everything around me blurs.
A hand falls on mine. “Elanor?” he asks. “Are you well?”
Slither Page 30
