Then Emmeline was gone, and soon afterward Hazel. The next wait seemed interminable, though in reality it must have been less than a minute. When the next chime sounded, Sophie leaped to her feet and raced from the room, with a single backwards glance for me. Calm down! Our scores are close enough that your chime will sound any second.
She was right, of course. The final chime released me within moments. I jumped up so violently that my chair clattered to the ground behind me. I ignored it and dashed from the room.
Sophie still hadn’t regained her full strength from the fever, so I quickly overtook her. And I easily remembered the path to the tallest tower since three of my clues had been located there during the treasure hunts. The room at the top was accessed by a long spiral stone staircase that wound through the center of the tower, and I hoped to pass most of the girls struggling up the endless flights of stairs.
I kept reminding myself that it wasn’t a straight race, either. It all came down to our choice of jewelry, and none of us knew what sort to expect, or what might be considered significant.
I passed Hazel on the first stretch of stairs, and Celine not long after, struggling up with her crutches. I sent her a sympathetic smile but didn’t slow. Pearl and Opal were next, despite having left first, and then Giselle. I kept expecting to see Marigold but saw no sign of her.
I was panting hard and wondering how much farther when I passed Blanche and, shortly after, Emmeline. Like me, she had gained a lot of ground, but now seemed to be struggling to catch her breath.
Still, I wasn’t far ahead of either of them when I burst into the room. A table filled the center of the small space, and Millie stood beside it staring down at an array of crowns. I hurried over to join her. Only eleven items lay on the table. I looked around again, as if Marigold would suddenly emerge from one of the walls.
Have you seen Marigold? I asked Sophie who I guessed would be more than halfway up the stairs by now.
No. Why?
I didn’t pass her at all. But there’s already a crown missing.
Oh, they’re crowns are they?
Yes. I kept my answer short, my mind divided between concern for the mysterious disappearance of Marigold, and confusion over which of the crowns I should take. Millie seemed to share my indecision. Twice she reached out a hand only to draw it back again.
When I gazed at them more carefully, my eyes caught on one in particular. One so familiar, I didn’t know why it hadn’t leaped out at me immediately. Sitting on the table of this strange mirror tower was an exact replica of the Arcadian royal crown worn by my father at important functions and state occasions.
Now that I knew what to look for, I easily identified the others. Arcadia, Lanover, Northhelm and Rangmere were all represented from the Four Kingdoms. And I had spent hours on the voyage on the way over learning about the local kingdoms of this land. I recognized the crowns of Eldon, Eliam, Palinar, Talinos and Trione easily enough. The table even included the circlets worn by the heirs of Palinar and Talinos.
Which meant Marigold, if she had indeed been and gone already, had taken the crown of her own duchy. A statement of loyalty regarding the superiority of her home. Despite my love for Jon and his home, it wasn’t the crown I would have chosen in her place.
But what was? Did superior mean largest kingdom in land size? Or most powerful? Or richest? And could I even be sure how they all ranked in these areas? I knew how each of the kingdoms compared to the others of their own land, but it was a little more difficult to compare between lands.
Before the mysterious curse, Palinar had been the largest and richest kingdom of these lands, although Marin held the greatest prestige. I suspected, now, however, that the smaller island kingdom of Trione would have to be the richest. But all of them were threatened by the encroaching darkness, so surely the Four Kingdoms, currently in one of their greatest ever periods of prosperity and peace, would have to be considered superior.
And Lanover was the richest of the Four Kingdoms. So perhaps theirs was the crown I should take? My hand hovered over it as I reached out to Sophie, still toiling up the stairs, to explain my dilemma.
So, do you think I should take Lanover? I concluded.
Let me think for a minute.
I waited impatiently for her answer.
I’ve had a thought, she projected after several long beats of silence. What if the crowns don’t represent the kingdoms, but their rulers? The Princess Tourney is all about finding the perfect match for each ruler, after all. So, the winning score is supposed to go to the princess who best matches the one who called the Tourney. And surely that girl would consider the ruler in question superior over all others. Which means the superior crown belongs to Palinar.
Brilliant!
My eyes latched on the Palinaran crown before veering off to the side. It had been Prince Dominic, not King Nicolas, who had called the Tourney. So it was the heir’s circlet I should take. One of the least-imposing crowns present. That realization made me feel certain of my decision. This was the test.
I snatched it up. Millie, eyeing me sideways, seemed confused by my choice. After a moment she also chose a crown—the Lanoverian one I had nearly taken earlier. Did she even recognize our crowns? Or was she taking her cue from me?
It didn’t matter now, we had both made our choice. Emmeline and Blanche burst through the door, almost colliding with one another in their haste and hurried over. We stepped back to give them access to the table. I watched their faces, waiting for the moment of understanding as they recognized the pieces. But they were both difficult to read.
Sophie darted into the room, her eyes raking the table. For a brief moment she looked disappointed before snatching up the Palinaran crown. Had she attempted to lead me astray on purpose, hoping to take the heir’s circlet and the winning score herself?
She staggered back to lean against a wall gasping in deep breaths. Millie, Blanche and Emmeline all stared at her in surprise, but she ignored them.
She chuckled silently. I’ve really confused them all now. Did you find Marigold?
No. The question of the crowns had momentarily distracted me, but my earlier confusion now returned. How could the younger girl have gotten so far ahead, and how had we not seen her? We should go back down. Perhaps we’ll find her back in the Throne Room.
Millie followed our lead, and the three of us left just as Lilac entered. We passed Hazel, Giselle, Pearl and Opal at the top of the stairs, and Celine some way below them. She grimaced at us, and hopped her way up another stair.
We all winced in sympathy. When we reached the throne room, we found it empty. I bit my lip and glanced at Sophie who shrugged. Millie frowned questioningly at us, and I pointed at the chair where Marigold had sat, raising my hands in a question.
She squinted at the table, clearly struggling to build a mental image of who had been sitting where. I could see the moment she remembered and, seconds later, the confusion when she realized we hadn’t passed Marigold at all.
I crossed back to my chair and placed my chosen crown on the golden plate. A chime sounded, identical to the ones that had released us. Millie raised her eyebrows and copied me, Sophie not far behind her. Two chimes sang out.
I stood behind my chair gripping the back, tired from my dash up the stairs, but too restless to sit. Sophie mimicked me, but Millie chose to sit.
She must have taken another way. I’m sure she’ll turn up any minute. Sophie tried to calm me, just as she had before the event began.
Did you see another way? And, anyway, one of the crowns was gone when I arrived. If she did take another way, she should have been back by now.
The other girls trickled into the room, following our lead and placing their crowns on their plates. When ten chimes had sounded, the bell signaling the end of the challenge rang.
“Oh, thank goodness,” said Millie. “I thought that stupid bell was going to make us wait for Celine to hobble all the way back down.”
“Perhaps she’s
just taken the last crown,” said Blanche.
“Where’s Marigold?” Lilac sounded as worried as I felt.
“Exactly what I want to know.” For once I didn’t try to shield the other girls from the fear in my voice. I felt a dreadful certainty we were right to be afraid. “I didn’t see any sign of her, and one of the crowns was already gone when I arrived at the top of the tower.”
I glanced over at Millie who frowned. “It was gone when I arrived, too, and I never saw her ahead of me.”
“You know her and the palace better than any of us,” I said to Lilac and Hazel. “Is there another way up to that tower?”
The two sisters shared a look. “You don’t think she would have…?”
“Of course she would.” Lilac sighed and looked back at me. “There’s an uncovered stairway that circles the outside of the tower. She’s never been afraid of heights, or deterred by our parents forbidding her to use it. It’s much quicker to get to it from here than getting to the base of the tower inside the palace.”
“Then it also should have been quicker to get back,” I said grimly. “Lead us there.”
Hazel and Lilac ran, and the rest of us followed, somehow finding new reserves. My pulse drummed so loudly I wondered if everyone could hear it, my breath scraping loudly past my ears.
We were out of the mirror palace and circling the outside wall within a few steps. Lilac had pulled ahead, so it was her piercing scream that rent the stillness.
Chapter 29
Somehow, impossibly, I found a final spurt of energy. I sprinted around the final corner, the horrible sight unfolding before me.
Marigold lay still at the base of the wall, her small body sprawled unnaturally across the ground. Her pale face stood out horribly against the stream of bright red blood that cut across it. The Marinese crown lay a short distance from her outflung arm, as if it had rolled from her fingers after she hit the ground.
In my peripheral vision, I noticed a small segment of one of the steps had crumbled away well above my head height. I dropped onto my knees next to Lilac, Hazel close behind me. Both of them were crying.
“Can you do that thing you did for the baby?” Hazel sobbed. “Breathe for her?”
I leaned over Marigold’s comatose form and then sat back up. “I don’t need to. Her heart is beating, and she’s breathing on her own. We need to stop her bleeding and check for any broken bones.”
The rest of the girls had arrived by this time, forming a loose circle around us, several of them crying almost as much as Marigold’s sisters.
“She’s not dead,” said Sophie. She eyed off the others consideringly. “And Lily needs your scarf, Blanche.”
Blanche quickly complied, handing it to me so I could create a makeshift bandage. I wadded it against Marigold’s head, where the blood appeared to originate.
“Lilac, press down here. I’m going to check her.”
I looked up at Sophie, and she dropped down to her knees to help without my having to ask. What do you think? I asked.
She gently ran her hands along the younger girl’s legs. I’m not sure. I wish Aldric or Matilde were here, they would know what to do. She named our medical friends at home in Arcadia.
We don’t know how long she’s been lying here, but it looks like she’s lost a fair amount of blood. I don’t like that she’s still unconscious.
Sophie met my eyes but didn’t reply, as aware as I was that it wasn’t a good sign.
“We can’t find any breaks,” I said, at last. “But we’re far from experts. We need to get her back to the palace and to some doctors as quickly as possible.”
“There’s no point. She should have regained consciousness long before now.” Emmeline’s emotionless words set off more rounds of tears.
I glared at her, but she simply shrugged slightly. “I’m just stating the facts.”
“Well, please don’t,” I snapped, before rearranging the bandage so I could tie it around Marigold’s head. Then I looked up at Sophie. “We’ll have to take turns carrying her.”
Emmeline stepped forward. “I’ll carry her to the boats.” I wanted to push her away, but I took a deep breath and reminded myself that her cold words had done no actual harm to Marigold. That had occurred long before any of us arrived. And she had only said the truth Sophie and I had kept silent. In fact, Emmeline had never actually done anything against any of us. Maybe her and her sister’s minds simply worked differently than the rest of ours. A lack of emotions wasn’t exactly a crime.
“Thank you,” I made myself say, helping to steady Marigold as the Eldonian crouched down and gently lifted her limp body. Emmeline didn’t respond.
Laying the still-unresponsive form into a boat alone felt completely wrong, but there was nothing else we could do. The coracles would only bear the weight of one. Celine finally arrived as the rest of us were loading ourselves into our own boats.
“What’s going on?” she asked before catching sight of Marigold and falling silent.
Millie, Sophie and I each carried her through one of the groves, her slight frame growing heavier with each step. Millie took the last turn through the grove of silver leaves, so I took the parchment of scores, tucking it into my dress without bothering to read it, and climbed the ladder first. Sophie followed but stopped halfway, and carefully Millie handed Marigold up. Once I dragged her into the room, I lifted her into my arms again.
I could barely wait for poor Celine to crawl up, two of the others helping her, and for the trapdoor to close and melt into the floor. As soon as it had disappeared, Hazel thrust open the door and staggered out, calling for a doctor through her still-falling tears.
I only just made it through the doorway before sinking onto my knees and placing Marigold down upon the ground. Her family gathered around her, screams and shouts filling the mostly-empty ballroom. Someone I couldn’t see helped me to my feet.
A tingling rushed through me at the contact, my body somehow recognizing the feel of Jon’s hand, even if my eyes couldn’t see his face. I wanted to collapse into his arms, but I held myself back. This was his family’s tragedy, and I didn’t deserve to be the one seeking comfort.
Sophie approached, and we clung to each other, just outside the circle of action. Watching and waiting. And hoping still, however feebly.
“M…Mother?” Marigold’s soft, frail voice somehow cut through all the sound to reach our ears. Sophie went limp beside me.
“Oh, thank goodness,” she whispered. “I thought…”
The doctors quickly confirmed our hasty diagnosis. Marigold had suffered no broken bones, the concussion and bleeding her only injuries, although serious ones.
Once she had been carried off, her family around her, the rest of us drifted to bed, still half in shock. I kept feeling her dead weight in my arms and hearing her shallow, halting breaths. It took me a long time to fall asleep.
The next morning, Helena woke us to the news that Marigold was expected to make a full recovery. “She’s awake and alert,” she told us with a broad smile. “She will need rest and lots of fluids for the next three days, but she will recover.”
We all exclaimed joyously, no one commenting on why three days was the limit given to her recovery. But after Helena left, I sat on my bed, my arms wrapped around my legs and my chin on my knees.
It doesn’t make sense, I projected to Sophie, thoughtfully. We saw how far she fell, and how much blood she lost.
Sophie chewed on a strand of her hair. I’ve been thinking the same thing. She was unconscious for far too long.
I’m delighted, of course…but she shouldn’t have recovered. Certainly not so quickly and easily.
I think it’s good news for more than just Marigold, Sophie projected. I think it proves our worst fears have been groundless. Especially when you also consider Giselle in the third event. I don’t think any of us can actually die in the Tourney.
I didn’t quite share her optimism. All we can be sure it means is that things don’t
follow the same rules down there. And that can go either way. Remember how sick the water made us. There’s no way that was natural.
Sophie sighed. Well, whatever it was, in this case at least, I’ll take it and be glad.
It soon became apparent that a stark contrast in perspectives existed between those of us who had made that long, silent trek through the groves, listening desperately for each shallow breath, afraid it might be the last we heard. And those who had merely seen me burst through the door carrying a deathly-injured child.
The competitors all saw it as a miracle, the joy of relief lightening everything else. The princes, however, were angry and afraid. Of course, we could not explain to them how much worse the situation should have been. And I doubted that would have comforted them. We had become somewhat inured to the dangers of the Tourney in a way they had not.
For me, seeing their reactions drained away any lingering pleasure from Marigold’s recovery. Her accident could only fuel Jon’s deadly desire to interfere with the remaining three events. Especially since my guess had been correct. I had received the highest number of points for Palinar’s circlet, Sophie close behind me with the Palinaran crown.
Tension permeated the Marinese palace. Duke Philip had made no progress in undermining Sir Oswald. Without an alternative plan to save Marin, more and more of the influential members of the city reluctantly swapped their allegiances.
Summer seemed to be approaching far too fast, and the reality of the end of the Tourney, with its inevitable betrothal, had cast a pall over anyone untouched by the planned coup. The ball before the fifteenth event had a more subdued tone than any of the ones that had preceded it.
Sophie and I had each danced our single obligatory dance with nobles of the Marinese court and then refused all other offers. We stood by the long windows, clutching glasses but not drinking. Too tired in body and mind to do anything but wait for the bell.
Beyond the Four Kingdoms Box Set 1 Page 25
