He nodded. “I thought that too. But every place is like this, Rose. You can’t escape it. You have to fight.”
“Or you succumb,” Rose finished. Their gazes found each other, and Rose turned away so quickly she would have fallen off the branch had he not grabbed her. All the people she had always been told to relate to, whether they were on TV or in her school, never spoke to her inner thoughts the way he just did. A shame he wants to see you dead.
It was very late and everyone was sleeping but them, Ridge’s breaths giving the branches a gentle shake, like the perfect breeze. But she knew, if she were ever going to escape, it had to be at night when everyone slept. Unfortunately, Coram seemed nowhere near tired. “Aren’t you going to sleep?” she asked him.
He looked at her as if surprised she hadn’t drifted off herself by now. “I don’t sleep,” he said.
Rose swallowed, her hopes going down hard. “What do you mean? Everyone sleeps.”
“Maybe where you come from. But here, if someone has gold skin, it means they don’t.”
“How is that possible?”
“The sun. It charges us. Keeps us going through the night.”
“So, you’re like a walking solar panel.”
“I have no idea what that is.”
“You catch all the heat inside you. That’s why you feel like you’re on fire.”
He placed a hand against his chest. “Sometimes it almost becomes too much. I have to keep blowing it free, especially during the day, or …” His voice drifted off.
There was some rustling below, and Rose noticed Meadowrue was thrashing in her sleep. She almost looked as if she were being attacked. Deep and chilling moans stretched out into the night. “No,” she called out. “No.” Hands on her head, she rocked back and forth, perilously close to the fire. “No.”
Her face was illuminated by the flames, and Rose noticed something moving in Meadowrue’s right ear. The cartilage began to wiggle and swell. Slowly, the ear expanded, and Meadowrue cried out even louder, curdling Rose’s blood. Eo motioned to get up, but Deedubs pulled him back down. Finally, once her ear fully blossomed, a ball fell out and rolled near the fire. Meadowrue, pale and shaking, woke up. She looked around and caught Coram and Rose staring while the others slept, or pretended to. Nobody said a word. Meadowrue just dusted herself off, picked up the red orb, and hurried out into the night.
“Is … is she okay?” Rose asked.
Coram shook his head. “Nothing about Meadowrue is okay.”
“Where is she going?”
“The Cemetery of Bad Dreams.”
“You’re going to have to explain that one to me,” Rose said.
“Just thinking about the place is enough to make even my body go cold. It’s dark and haunted grounds.”
Rose’s thoughts were racing, her voice gaining in pitch. “But why is she going? What the heck was that red thing? Why’d she bring it with her? Why is everyone acting like this is normal?”
“Because it is. When nightmares are born, they hatch from red orbs within your head. Before they can crack and escape, they must be buried so that they can no longer threaten you or this world. That is where she is going. Most people here have evolved past dreams. Either that or they have trained themselves to have very few and, thus, very few nightmares. Meadowrue, however, never seemed to get that far. She has more restless nights than anyone I know.”
“What about you?” Rose asked.
“I don’t sleep. That means I don’t dream.” He paused, looking away. When he spoke again, his voice was weak. “And that means no nightmares.”
Rose wondered if this was a fair trade or not. “It must be hard for her,” she said, gazing into the darkness in which Meadowrue disappeared. “To find some happiness. Some ordinary kind of happiness.”
“There’s nothing ordinary about happiness, Rose. Happiness is as special as things get.”
The Order walked on in silence. In a very short time, things had gotten much more complicated. The Abomination could now be killed, but first they would have to recover three magical weapons that were spread out all across Eppersett and very well guarded. They also had to hope the queen could convince Rose to sacrifice herself—which Rose had to admit was never going to happen—and even if she could be convinced, Rose would still have to learn how to master her abilities in a rather short time. Meadowrue was dealing with her constant nightmares and demons, Deedubs continued to belittle Eo, Coram was breathing heavier and heavier, and even Ridge began to lose his good cheer. No, things were as bleak as ever.
Still, there were enough strange sights along the miles of land over the next two days to keep their thoughts from dwelling on such things. Grazing fields of three-foot-high blue grass were hairy apelike beasts full of muscle called Jarries, and they had huge antlers, bushy tails, and violet bodies. Riding them, with sharp pronged rods at their sides, were sickly-looking gray creatures who kept leaning their oversized heads back and crying out, signaling to the other riders around them as they harvested the crops with long arms that reached all the way to the ground. These gangly things were Saddats, and according to Coram, they supplied Eppersett with a majority of its food, a crop called life grass and one of the only things Rose would eat.
At dusk on the second day since vacating the Stylites, they found a pair of parallel tracks and followed them east, walking in the wide space between them, the grass as tall as their knees and the bugs as big as their fists. To Rose, the tracks looked like they ran twin trains. They twisted off in either direction, but appeared very old. It was decided then that the group would camp there for the night, beside the tracks.
Rose, once again, had no chance of escaping, Coram keeping his eyes locked on her at all times. But she felt more and more confident that she might be able to find a way home. After all, she was useless to them now. There was no way she was going to sacrifice herself for them, not ever, and there was no way they could make her.
“You know,” Coram said, as if reading her mind. “If you don’t cooperate, we could still just sacrifice you. We’d at least get ten years of peace. That’s better than nothing.” He leaned back and locked his hands behind his head, a sly grin on his face. All Rose could do was fold her arms and turn away from him, stewing in her anger.
In the morning—a sunrise so bright there could have been two suns in the sky—Rose woke and was facing something so massive and strange that she knew it hadn’t been there the night before. It couldn’t have been. Sitting on the tracks, about a quarter of a mile away, was a huge castle.
It was a monstrous structure, broad and tall, with five imposing towers, at the top of which flew purple flags emblazoned with a dark square with three circles within it, one inside the other. To Rose it was a troublesome eye that remained fixed on her every move. From the center of the castle rose the keep like a stone serpent from the coldest depths. The windows, save for the highest ones, were all bricked up, and numerous guards were on the lookout along the parapets and in the turrets, arrows at the ready. It appeared as if the castle had sustained major damage over the years; its moss-covered walls were battered, the stone in pieces, the towers ready to fall.
“Summercress Castle,” Coram announced, still with pride. “I admit, it has seen better days.”
“And it will again!” Ridge added. “Won’t it, Rose? You’ll see to that!”
Rose, however, just continued to stare at the awesome sight, her brow scrunched in confusion. “How … Where did it … I don’t understand … Do you have engines here? You have that kind of technology?”
Ridge scratched the side of his head. “I don’t know what an engine is, but we don’t need it! We have Sorums!”
“And what’s a Sorum?”
Ridge glanced at Coram. “She has a lot to learn, this one! Has no clue about Sorums! I thought everyone knew about those buggers!”
Coram caught Rose’s gaze and nodded his head toward the castle. “Have you ever met a queen, Rose?”
�
��Back home? All the time,” she answered, her eyes locked on the highest tower.
“Oh.” Coram’s shoulders slumped; he kicked at the ground. “Well, you’re going to meet another.”
Circling around the front of the castle in an attempt to locate the drawbridge, Rose noticed how the entire structure looked as if it had been ripped from the ground and placed high on a stone platform. In the darkness beneath were scores of large, rusty wheels, though Rose saw no motor or gears to move them. On their trip toward the entrance, they had to walk over huge, thick chains that hung from the base and snaked their way into the distance. In fact, it wasn’t so much walking over them as it was scaling the metal—each link was bigger than Rose was.
Almost a half hour later, when they finally found the drawbridge and waited for it to lower, Rose craned her neck, taking in the castle in full. Up close it was even more impressive, more imposing, and very, very cold in its shadow. Suddenly, she felt the chilling and full weight of meeting a queen, and thought the pressure might send her straight through the earth. Never in her life did she imagine she’d be important enough to stand before royalty.
Lowered, the drawbridge was more like a steep ramp than an overpass. They scaled it, but the metal gate beyond would not rise. To their right, a man with a face so green it was as if he were deeply sick sat looking out a small window at them. He said the queen hadn’t seen any visitors in quite some time and that that wasn’t about to change. He suggested they go home.
“There have been several attempts on Queen Sequoia’s life lately,” the gatekeeper added when Coram insisted how important their visit was. “Not to mention what has happened to her son. And there’s no way I’m going to be responsible for another attack. Leave now.”
With a huff, Rose sat back in the branches. She hadn’t slept well since she came here. The food made her ill, and she was badly homesick. The sun was now bearing down on her with a brutal force. She was sweating uncontrollably, she was thirsty, sunburned, had a rash on her arm, and Deedubs wouldn’t stop growling and pacing, his long nails clicking on the wood like the loudest of clocks. The arguing with the gatekeeper grew louder and louder and louder.
Finally, Rose couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up in the tree, balled her fists, and screamed.
A static charge ran through her body like a bolt of lightning, buzzing her hands as if they were set on fire. A blast came from them, burning a branch in the tree and part of her sleeve before exploding against the gate. She fell back against the bough, staring at her hands, her jaw hanging open, a smoking hole in their path.
In confusion, she glanced up at the gatekeeper, who was still in his window, a look of shock on his face that she was sure matched her own.
The group, however, didn’t have time to be dumbfounded. Seizing their opportunity, they moved through the blasted gate and into the castle.
Just as they crossed the threshold, the gatekeeper reached them, nearly tripping down the stairs. Struggling for oxygen, he held out his hand and ordered them to stop.
“We must see the queen,” Coram reiterated.
“No!” the gatekeeper shouted, attempting to shove them back out, his eyes crazed. “Get out of here! Get out! It’ll be my head!”
But Ridge merely picked him up and moved him aside, patting his head as he went past.
“Guards!” the gatekeeper yelled. “Guards!” But there was no need to scream; they had come running the moment they had heard the explosion.
Rose glanced around. All eyes were on them now. The guards were assembling in massive numbers, heading down from their towers while others were pouring out of the armory, blades glistening. They were as large as bears on their back legs with glowing orange eyes peering out from the darkness beneath their helmets. They had swords and spears and maces and axes, and they chanted in a strange language as they charged.
“Hurry,” Coram said. “To the queen!”
“And where’s that?” Meadowrue asked, swords in hand. To Rose, she looked like she would rather stay behind and fight.
“I don’t know,” Coram said. “This way,” and he took off deeper into the castle, practically dragging Meadowrue behind him.
Arrows rained down on the group, one sailing just past Rose’s head and sticking into one of Ridge’s branches. He didn’t seem fazed by it at all, though when Rose yanked it free, he gave a soft little whimper as brownish-red sap dripped from the wound.
The guards chased the group through an empty chapel and across a vast kitchen. What looked like a boar in an apron stood cooking over a fire, yelling at them to get out of her kitchen.
“Where are we going?” Meadowrue shouted.
Coram was breathing heavily, carefully expelling his rising heat. “I don’t know!”
“Step aside,” Deedubs said with a growl. “Let us lead the way!”
Eo pulled his father to the front, the two of them using their noses to find the queen.
“Um, this way, I think. Pretty sure.”
“It’s our lives, boy!” Deedubs shouted. “Our lives! Be positive!”
“I am! I’m positive, Pa! This way!”
They entered the great hall. A staircase was at the far end. “There!” Eo yelled. They hurried for it, but before they were even halfway across the room, their path was cut off by at least fifty guards. The Order stopped and turned around, but found the rest of the guards had caught up with them.
“Surrounded,” Meadowrue said, almost with pleasure. “Looks like we’re going to make a stand after all.”
Deedubs’s blank eyes found his son. “You failed us, boy. We were counting on you!”
Eo sniffed the air ahead. “She’s just past there, Pa. I know it. If we had a little more time …”
“Excuses! A warrior doesn’t have excuses!”
“Maybe I’m not—”
“Enough! It’s time for battle. Pray you survive.”
“There’s too many,” Coram said. “We’ll never make it.”
Deedubs snorted at this. “Cowards, all of you. I will do it myself.”
As the guards warily closed in, Rose’s chest tightened with fear. Her frantic thoughts kept racing back to what she did at the gate and in the Field of Stylites. Maybe you could do the same here, she thought. Okay, but how did you do it, exactly? She held out her hands, extending them toward the guards, but nothing happened. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to happen. Kill them? Maybe she could make them disappear? Was that even possible? She closed her eyes and waved her hands. Nothing. She pulled them back and then shot them forward. Rose, you look like a child playing pretend.
Coram held his sword in both hands. “Protect Rose. She’s all that matters.”
The lead guard held up his hand, barking orders. When it dropped, they would charge.
Rose was covered in panic, a thick coat of it. She trembled everywhere, her heart rolling all the way up into her throat. She thought of her parents, her brother, and how she’d never see them again. The pain was overwhelming.
Then came that same sensation, clearing out the pain and panic. Her hands vibrated and her body warmed. It’s happening, she thought.
But what exactly was happening she had no clue. The feeling just continued to intensify without any results. Something built in her, but there was no release.
Across the room, the lead guard’s arm dropped. A shout went out, and the guards charged, some of them dropping to four legs as they stampeded forward. Rose knew that whatever was going to come had to come now.
Please. Hurry.
But nothing happened. She felt herself overheating, her temperature incredibly high. Sweat built up all across her body. Her head throbbed.
“Ready,” Coram said to the others. “We fight as one.”
“Ah, I’ve been starving for battle,” Deedubs said. “Summercress Castle is a fine place to die.”
They’ll never win, Rose. You’re never going to get a chance to escape if you don’t do something right now. They’re going to kill
you. All of you.
Strangely, the buzzing in her hands began to fade. No. No! What’s happening? Why isn’t it working?
The guards were nearly upon them now, their weapons raised, their shouts filling the hall. Coram and the others let loose their own battle cries as Rose braced herself.
“Stoooooppp!”
As if slamming into an invisible wall, the guards came to a grinding halt. Immediately, they dropped to their knees, their heads bowed, their bodies quivering.
Rose turned around knowing who she would see, though nothing could prepare her for the sight. Queen Sequoia stood at the foot of the staircase, as terrifying a presence as Rose had ever witnessed.
The queen had no face. There were no eyes, no ears, no mouth, no nose. Only flesh. Pale, vein-filled flesh that pulsed and throbbed as if something were living underneath. And when she spoke her voice emanated from above, as if from a thundercloud.
“There’s magic here,” she said in a hollow voice, which echoed and cracked in the ears of everyone. “Very rare magic. That of a human.”
She stood completely still, her hands folded delicately at her waist. She wore a spectral dress that flared out around her feet like a pool of water. It clung to her skeletal frame, the collar high and pointed, sharp as knives. Atop her head was not a crown, but a wreath of dead flowers.
There was a palpable tension in the room. Rose could hear the guards trembling within their armor. Even the birds in Ridge’s branches hid their faces in their feathers. All around them, it felt as if the walls had been pulled in.
Although Queen Sequoia didn’t have eyes, it was clear she was looking over the group very carefully, and it was especially evident when she settled on Rose. “You,” she said in a lightning strike of a voice.
Rose nearly fainted in the branches, her body icing over and freezing her in a position that was as gnarled as the tree. “M-me?” she said, her voice cracking. It was like being called on in the middle of an assembly, the entire school there, and Rose stood, only to realize she was naked.
“You!” The queen’s hand raised, a finger pointing straight at her. Her fingers were twice as long as they should have been and with no nails at the tips, though they still came to a sharp point. “It was your magic I sensed. Outside the castle and within these walls. Human magic.”
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