Secret in the Stone

by Kamilla Benko

  “No time for lollygagging!” Nadia said. “Get on, now!”

  Sophie launched herself toward Lixoon, while Claire took a running leap. The air whooshed out of her as her stomach hit the hard metal of the chimera’s copper side. She felt a pull on her tunic as Nadia dropped the reins and pulled Claire up the last few inches.

  Suddenly, Claire could hear shouts on the other side of the new wall, and the sound of pick-axes.

  “We need to go!” Nett said, looking anxious on the scorpion chimera behind Sena and Cotton.

  “Agreed,” Nadia said, and tightened the reins. Lixoon swiveled on well-oiled haunches and loped back toward the tunnel.

  “Where are we going?” Claire shouted as their ears popped.

  “Under the lake!” Nadia shouted back. “Arden is crisscrossed with tunnels left over from the Guild War! Gemmer-made, of course. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

  Nadia kicked the chimera, urging him into a higher gear. As they twisted and churned through a seemingly endless tunnel, Claire began to feel sick. Or maybe it was the low, churning hum of warning that rattled her bones.

  There was no rock in this section of tunnel, only soil that shifted and clambered over itself. Claire tried to open her mouth to warn Nadia, but she felt too sick.

  Nadia, though, seemed to know how Claire was feeling, because she leaned forward and shouted something in Lixoon’s ear—and in the next moment, the chimera’s joints clanked in protest as it hastened its speed.

  But the soil was shifting faster.

  “Hurry!” Claire screamed. There was a slow rumble, the sense of everything falling in, and then—

  “Keep your head down!” Nadia roared.

  Finally: a twist of light!

  Lixoon shot toward it and they exploded into a stream of noontime sun. A moment later, a fountain of soil and copper shot into the sky as Serpio rocketed out of the tunnel behind them.

  They had all made it! Relief bubbled out of Claire in the form of hysterical laughter. Never had sun been so welcomed or felt so good. Lake Drowning was nowhere to be seen, but Claire saw several riders on Woven Root horses coming toward them through the trees.

  “The guilds have spotted us!” Ravel shouted as he galloped his horse toward them. “We can stay ahead of them, if we leave now!”

  Nodding, Nadia tightened the reins, and Lixoon shot forward.

  “Nadia!” Claire shouted over the rush of wind. “Thank you for rescuing us!”

  “I can’t hear you,” Nadia called back. “Tell me when we’re safe.”

  But Claire didn’t think such a time would ever come again. So she leaned in and said it anyway: “Thank you, Aunt Diana.”

  CHAPTER

  34

  “Before I was Mayor Nadia of Woven Root, leader of the alchemists, I was Diana Martinson, world-renowned collector and explorer.” Nadia’s—Aunt Diana’s—fingers flew as she knotted the ties of her tent, sealing them off from the curious eyes of the other alchemists.

  After fleeing Drowning Lake, they had galloped into the forest that they had flown over. In the dark shade of the trees, Nadia had called for them to halt, then had leaned forward and pinched the air. A moment later, the Camouflora curtain had been pulled aside to reveal the many tents of Woven Root.

  “Of course the village travels—why else would we use tents?” Nadia had said when she noticed their astonished faces. “Camouflora works wonders, but the only way to truly stay hidden is to not get caught.”

  Diana. Nadia. The letters were all the same, Claire realized.

  When they’d arrived, they’d been greeted by clamoring alchemists, desperately wanting to know what had happened. Nadia had instructed Ravel to gather Woven Root for an emergency council, but first, she had said, she wanted to talk to the children. Alone.

  Claire now sat in Nadia’s tent, her arm brushing Sophie’s as they both stared at the framed drawing on the desk. Pencil Mom and Pencil Dad stood, waving, while Pencil Sophie seemed to have snuck off the page somewhere.

  Sophie rested her head on Claire’s shoulder. “It looks just like them,” she murmured.

  “Is that your family?” Sena asked from Claire’s other side. Nett and Sena sat there, looking slightly windswept. Both seemed tired, but Sena seemed changed, like a jewel that had been polished by Gemmers and now glowed. And why shouldn’t she? She’d just learned her family was alive, after all. And Fireblood gleamed proudly on her hip.

  “Yes,” Nadia answered for Claire as, satisfied with her ties, she came to join them. “That is my nephew and his wife. I recognized them at once.” Nadia/Diana tapped Pencil Dad fondly, and said, “He always liked stories. I did too! I remember sitting in Windemere, in a window nook overlooking the pond, and listening to my father tell stories about Arden, a land filled with treasures. In fact, it was those stories of magical objects that made me interested in art collecting in the first place.”

  Sophie reached out and gripped Claire’s hand, as Nadia—Great-Aunt Diana—told them her story.

  “I spent my life looking for a way into the world that Grandpa Martin described. Arden. And when I discovered his journals, I finally did.”

  She paused for a moment, taking a big breath. “At first, I just took some treasures—small ones. A coin here, a scrap of tapestry there. And each time I said it would be the last … until I heard about the Tablecloth of Everlasting Feasts or an hourglass that saved you time instead of spending it.”

  Nadia flipped the hourglass on her desk. “Time slips through Arden differently than it does at home. I didn’t realize it, but as I collected treasures, I missed important moments in your father’s life. Graduation, the birth of two daughters.” She shook her head. “Unforgiveable things to miss.”

  “And when did you figure out who we were?” Sophie asked.

  The old woman leaned back in her chair, her eyes closed. “I saw the picture, and realized that you’d given me false names. False names that just so happened to be the middle names of my grandnieces.”

  Her eyes opened. “But I realized before I put it together that I was wrong, before I knew who you were. Because, you, Claire, were right. We can’t just stay in hiding while Arden slips away from us. I love Arden. Arden is why I never came home. And now these Royalists destroying monuments and spreading rumors around about their fake queen,” she said disdainfully.

  Claire and Sophie looked at each other. “Actually, Mayor Nadia?”

  “Just Nadia is fine. It’s the name I chose for myself.”

  “Nadia,” Claire corrected, “the queen is the queen.”

  And so Claire began to tell their story, from the time Dad got the call of Diana’s disappearance, to the journey she’d undertaken to find Sophie, to Sophie’s reason for why she wanted to come to Arden in the first place, and how they had discovered their family’s legacy: the Great Unicorn Treasure of Arden was not simply a moontear necklace, but the key to a future of unicorns.

  And then Claire shared how they’d lost them—given them to Terra, who was actually Estelle, the same way Nadia was actually Diana. And how Estelle would not save Arden from danger, but was the biggest threat of all.

  How they’d left the moontears behind at Stonehaven, after Claire failed to be the Gemmer princess of Arden who could play the crystal flute.

  “The heir of Arden …,” Nett piped up, looking at Nadia questioningly. “You’re the oldest Martinson, beside Queen Estelle. You’re the Gemmer heir.”

  It was the same realization that Claire had had before she blew the flute for the final time.

  Her chest constricted, but she forced her confession out.

  “I broke the flute,” Claire said. “I’m so sorry. I thought the unicorn would be safer if it didn’t exist.” She could hardly bear to look at Nadia. “I didn’t realize until you arrived with the chimera that you were Great-Aunt Diana—that we had already met the heir! If we still had the flute, the unicorn could be here now, helping Sophie!”

  “Maybe,” Nadia sa
id, “but then again, maybe not. Think on it. Who, in the story Estelle read to you, in the end became ruler after the old king died?”

  Sophie shrugged, her ponytail bouncing, a new ribbon securing her hair. “I don’t know. I missed that part of Claire’s test.” A shot of white still lingered in her dark hair, looking as if she’d washed her hair in snow.

  Claire scrunched her eyes up, remembering. “The king chose a Tiller gardener to become king after him.”

  “Exactly.” Nadia nodded. “So maybe everyone is looking at it wrong. It’s not the heir that calls the unicorn. Maybe it’s the unicorn that chooses the heir.”

  Her aunt’s theory wasn’t really comforting, and the relief Claire had felt at being again under Woven Root’s protection had completely evaporated.

  “Fine, then,” Claire said. “I get it, I’m not the princess … but I am a sister. We still need to find the unicorn. Sophie’s still sick!”

  “I actually feel okay,” Sophie said, rubbing her forehead. “It’s only now and then that everything starts to hurt.” And yes, out here, in a brightly lit tent, she could see that Sophie practically seemed to glow with good health, though her eyes still seemed too bright and shiny.

  “But that’s not good enough,” Claire insisted. “You have to be completely better.”

  Nadia opened her drawer and pulled out a quill and paper. “Sophie, your turn,” she said. “Tell me everything.”

  As Sophie talked, Claire studied Nadia. Sophie and Nadia weren’t so dissimilar. Both of them had come to Arden to run away from something. Both of them liked to collect things, though one collected art while the other preferred experiences.

  Patterns form in rock and in us, Queen Estelle had said when Claire still thought she was only Scholar Terra. Stories repeat.

  Just not when Claire needed them to. Why couldn’t the tale of the king’s daughter repeat? Why couldn’t the unicorn come and rescue Sophie, like he had the dying princess?

  Something tickled her thoughts, like a delayed sneeze. There was something she was missing, a detail she’d overlooked …

  “Wait a second,” Nett interrupted Sophie’s account, “I thought you said earlier that you weren’t at the Grand Test. That you missed the retelling of The Unicorn Princess and Her Crystal Flute?”

  Sophie nodded. “I got there late. After Terra said there was something off within me, that I was still sick, I spent the rest of the night and all the morning in the Citadel’s library, trying to find something, anything, that could help me. I fell asleep reading, and didn’t wake up until after the Grand Test had started.”

  But Claire wasn’t listening anymore. Because Queen Estelle had said more than just that to Sophie. She’d also said unicorn magic can sometimes save lives, but more often than not it changes lives. What else had they learned about unicorns?

  They could open doors—any door, even hidden ones in Stonehaven’s tallest tower.

  They could also heal. Claire looked down at her ankle. Its skin was entirely smooth, not even a hint of pink where the Gelly had bitten her.

  And around unicorns, they’d learned, magic was always at its strongest—powerful enough to split the earth.

  “Claire, are you there?”

  Claire blinked, and realized the others were staring at her, Sophie waving her hand at Claire’s face.

  “Hey,” Sophie spoke again. “You okay?”

  Claire didn’t know. Her mind was racing, galloping ahead so fast she could barely keep up.

  Lines connect to form pictures. Patterns form.

  Before Claire had shattered the flute, she’d played it four times. Once, at the Grand Test. Once, in the woods, before the wraith attacked. Once, when she was tied up in Woven Root. And once again in Queen Estelle’s treasure room. Each time, the flute had stayed silent. Each time, the unicorn had not come.

  But someone else had.

  Stories repeat.

  “What’s wrong?” Sophie looked alarmed now. “Why do you look like that?”

  The tent, the desk, Nadia, Nett, and Sena all seemed to fade away, until all that Claire could see was Sophie.

  The unicorn chooses the heir.

  Claire took a deep breath. “I don’t think you’re sick anymore, Sophie. I think that when the unicorn saved your life on the Sorrowful Plains, he did more than just save your life … Do you get what I’m saying?”

  The others suddenly became very still—except for Sophie.

  “No,” Sophie snapped. “Stop being so mysterious!”

  In another time, in another place, in another world, Claire would have been pleased that for once, she got to be the sister with a secret. But now … she looked down again at her perfectly healed ankle, then up at the spangled tent.

  Wishing stars and wishing hearts.

  “Sophie,” Claire said. “You’re not sick. You’re becoming a unicorn.”

  CHAPTER

  35

  The sun was warm on Claire’s cheek, but the breeze was crisp and cool. Change was in the air, and autumn was slowly coloring Arden’s trees. Passersby eyed Claire while she waited outside the alchemists’ headquarters.

  Nadia was in there now, along with Sena and Nett, laying out the story for the alchemists, hoping to forge an alliance with Woven Root. They’d decided it would be best if those known to Arden spoke first—especially the daughter of one of their own, acclaimed missing alchemists Sylvia and Mathieu Steele. Then Sophie and Claire would be called in for questioning. And Claire knew there would be many, many questions.

  About the impending war between the Gemmers and the other guilds.

  About the Forgers who had been turned to stone.

  About the rumors of a legendary queen’s return … and what that would truly mean.

  So as she waited, Claire found a mossy rock and sat down to savor the silence. She had a feeling that soon, very soon, there wouldn’t be time at all to just sit and watch the shadows of the leaves dance on the ground.

  “Claire, you’re avoiding me.”

  Claire looked up to see Sophie standing in front of her, hands on her hips.

  “I’m not,” Claire said automatically.

  “But you’re still doing it,” Sophie said. “Scoot over.” When Claire had, Sophie sat down next to her. “Whenever it’s just you and me, you suddenly have to ask Nadia something. Or find Nett.”

  Claire looked at Sophie and was surprised to recognize the expression on her face. It wasn’t one she’d ever seen on her big sister, but it was one that Claire knew she herself wore often. It was the look of being alone. Of being left behind.

  Claire suddenly felt horrible. Sophie was right. She had been avoiding her. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do. What did it mean, to have a unicorn as a sister? Or a sister as a unicorn? When would her sister stop being her human sister with a dark ponytail and freckles on her nose, and become that creature of blazing light? The creature with a spiraling horn that could wake the moontears?

  Claire already hated the streak of white in Sophie’s hair left over from Bramble’s failed experiment.

  She leaned into Sophie. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m here for you.”

  A warm weight settled onto Claire’s head as Sophie rested her head against hers. “Clairina,” Sophie said, her voice so quiet it was barely even a whisper. “I’m … I’m scared. The queen knows who—what—I am. She’ll be after me.”

  And Sophie—always brave, fearless Sophie—looked so sad that Claire wanted to cry. But it wasn’t her turn to cry anymore. If Sophie was scared, then Claire would be brave for her, just as Sophie had been for Claire so many times.

  “We’ll find a way,” Claire promised Sophie. “We’ll find a way to wake the moontears. You don’t have to change—the other unicorn is still out there.”

  After a moment, Sophie said softly, “You’re right. We’ll find a way.”

  “But there are so many things to find a way for,” Claire said, feeling momentarily helpless. �
�The guilds are on the brink of war. Anvil and Aquila are frozen statues. And Estelle—she has terrible, terrible plans.”

  “One thing at a time,” Sophie said, and she said it so calmly—so gracefully, so wisely—that Claire already felt her slipping away from her. “We can do it. After all, Arden is magic.”

  “Magic is in the material,” Claire said, the words coming easily, as if she’d always lived in a land of enchantment.

  “Well, you’re pretty good material,” Sophie said. “Magic is just the potential something has to grow and change. You have it, and now …” She gave a weak laugh. “I guess I have it, too.”

  She reached out and gripped Claire’s hand. “We’ll go home soon,” she said, squeezing. “I can feel it.”

  And for a moment, with Sophie’s hand in hers, Claire thought she felt it, too.

  Epilogue

  The unicorn dreamed.

  He rushed through meadows of stars and tore through galaxies of green grass.

  He dreamed of a sharp cold, the tingle of snowflakes, and the warm tickle of his mother’s nose against his ear, calling him to wake. He dreamed of mornings racing the wind alongside his sisters and of nights with his brothers chasing the falling stars that scraped the mountaintops. He dreamed of muscles stretching, hearts beating, his song mingling with the wild shout of the world.

  But the stars were quieter now, the earth sleepy. His family was all gone, except for the changeling. She knew now, the girl who had contained a wish so big it’d taken up her entire heart. The girl who had been so close to death that he’d had to do the one thing he could to save her. He could help her. Even now, he could feel her reaching out to him, as moonlight trickled into her soul. And in her dreams, she searched for him.

  If only he could tell her where he was. If only he knew where he was.

  The unicorn was a tornado locked in a box. The tide contained in a thimble. A sun under a bushel basket. He was—