Once all graduates were seated in the front and the orchestra that played them in fell silent, Lord Channing took the stage. He was far from where my friends and I sat, but a couple of projection orbs broadcast his image and images of the graduates. I fidgeted in my chair. We were told to expect a short program. Breaking with the conventional slew of speeches and individual cheers for every diploma presentation, Lord Channing announced there would be no speeches and that diplomas would be handed out swiftly with one round of shared applause at the end.
As I sat in the audience with my classmates, watching students take the stage, shake their headmaster’s hand, and proceed on, I thought on the true, harsh fragility of the future. It was only the other night that I’d foreseen a happy Jacqueline celebrating her graduation as we congratulated her on her speech. Now that was all gone—the speech, the girl, and the happiness.
For a while I’d known that the only way for visions or prophecies not to come true was if the subject of said foresight died preemptively. That’s why the antagonists had spent so long trying to hunt me down—to avoid my fate-altering influence on the realm. But I’d never seen this concept play out before. That future I had dreamt about was dead, and there was no getting it back.
It took fifteen minutes to call out all the graduates’ names, and then we rose and applauded, though most people’s hearts weren’t in it. Lord Channing stood again, I think to dismiss us. Suddenly Lady Agnue stepped in front of him and approached the mic. We froze. Lady Agnue was not an off-script type of person.
“I understand how daunting it is to go through the motions of celebration when something so terrible has happened.” Our headmistress swallowed hard. Every person remained standing as silence filled the air.
“Jacqueline Day Ripley was a strong and fierce protagonist, an intelligent and hardworking student, and above all else, a good person. That is the part of her that I know will remain with each of us. Strength, intelligence, and hard work mean nothing if not governed by good character. Without character, those qualities, and all gifts are a waste. So in memory of Miss Ripley, I encourage you to leave here today—seniors and underclassmen alike—committed to using your talents with integrity, humility, and respect. Do this to honor her, and to honor yourselves and the opportunities you are given as you live on.”
Lady Agnue let out a small sigh, but her posture remained upright. She was sad, but she was enduring. And like a strange kind of magic, with every word she was inspiring us to follow her example.
“While I know this has been a difficult time, Lord Channing and I are proud of how you have handled the adversity thus far.” Lady Agnue looked out at all of us with great empathy and ardency.
“I wish I could tell you that this will be the last time you will experience such hardship, but I cannot,” she continued solemnly. “No one is safe from grief, no matter his or her age or station. However, I can tell you that alone I believe each of you is strong enough to persevere. But together, we are strong enough to overcome.”
Lady Agnue stepped back from the mic. When she did there was a slight pause. Then everyone clapped, for real this time, and for a long time too.
“It comes easier than you thought it would, doesn’t it? The anger, the hatred?”
I’d been sitting by myself on one of the hay bale walls in the barn, mulling over the graduation and how much this school had changed in such a short time. Then Nadia called on my Mark Two.
When I saw her face, I wondered if I should reach out to Lenore and ask her how to block calls on these things. Or at least get caller ID.
The words of the queen of Alderon were like hissing snakes—not aggressive like the roars of a ferocious predator, but surreptitious and filled with venom.
I didn’t respond. All I could do was look away with the indignity of having realized she was right. I’d been building a lot of hatred toward the antagonists in the last few months. Normally I could shove it away in a mental drawer. But the escalated loathing that burned inside of me now could not be so easily ignored. It seemed to be humming lightly in the corners of my mind at all times. It wanted to burn. When the names Emma or Jacqueline so much as crossed my mind, a negative surge of emotion pulsed through my system faster than my body could circulate blood.
Accepting that filled me with bitterness and concern. I didn’t want to feel so much hate. It was exhausting. And I suspected the more it grew, the more my sense of mercy would shrink and I’d become increasingly prone to Pure Magic surges of vigilante justice. Unlike Lenore, I didn’t think this was a good plan for any person, let alone someone at risk for being corrupted by darkness.
“It’s okay, Crisa,” Nadia said, a suspicious touch of compassion in her tone. “I get what you’re feeling. I honestly do. Which is why my advice is not to fight it, but embrace it. If you don’t, all you’ll be left with is the heartbreak—those consumptive feelings of despair and pain about who and what you have lost. You’re no use to anybody like that, especially yourself.”
“How kind of you to worry about my well-being,” I replied dryly.
Nadia shrugged. “Sadness is a useless emotion, Crisa. It’s debilitating. It reduces people to withered husks of their former selves. But hatred, anger—with those feelings you’ve really got something. They may hurt at first, but trust me: in the end they can make you powerful. The way they scorch you inside creates a strength that will push you further than you ever thought possible. How do you think I got where I am? How do you think I became what I am?”
“I think I made it pretty clear that I am nothing like you, Nadia,” I said.
“Crisa, from a current queen to a future queen, stop kidding yourself. Eventually you’re going to be an antagonist and you will like it. Just imagine how freeing it will be to live your life without constantly questioning the morality of your actions.”
I wished that didn’t sound so appealing.
“I can achieve that same kind of freedom by simply killing you, Nadia. Did you ever think of that? I’m sure life is a lot less taxing when there’s no evil monarch constantly forcing you to make morally questionable choices.”
Nadia smiled wickedly, my retort not fazing her at all. “Have a good summer, Crisa. The last triggers I sent you worked out so well that I can’t wait to pick what strategy to play next. And who to take from you next.”
My anger mixed with panic. “Nadia, if you hurt one more of my—”
She hung up. I was tempted to call her back. Nadia may not have taken me that seriously, but the threat I’d been about to make was real. I was a princess. I was compassionate. And I was a good person. But I was also powerful and bold, and I didn’t let things go. Nadia was pushing me too far. If she kept pushing, I might stop waiting around for her to strike and be inspired to push back.
At half past seven in the morning, Lady Agnue appeared in my open doorway.
I had just finished packing. The semester was officially over. Students were beginning their journeys home, many accompanied by one or two school guards as per our headmistress’s assignment. My friends and I had passed on the escorts in order to conserve numbers for the other students. We were used to defending ourselves, and we’d be a united force at Chance’s castle.
The prince had returned home yesterday. My friends and I intended to follow him in shifts, given that Lucky could only transport so many of us at a time, especially with our luggage. Blue, Jason, Javier and I were flying Lucky to Clevaunt today. Javier loved riding, so he’d offered to return to campus with Lucky and collect Daniel, Kai, and Girtha tomorrow.
As for Marie and Gordon, they were traveling home on the magic train with their own castle security for now. They had summer festival obligations to their family, but would come to Clevaunt soon. Divya also couldn’t join us right away. Her older sister was getting married next week and our young friend was the maid of honor.
Lady Agnue had only barely managed to catch me. Blue and Kai were already downstairs.
“Hey,” I said.
“This is my last bag. It takes a while to properly pack all my boots and dresses.”
“Ah yes, a typical princess problem.” Lady Agnue cleared her throat lightly. Then she fully entered the room and came closer to me. “Miss Knight, I wanted to bid you and your friends good fortune before you departed. I hope to see you all again when next semester commences and I wish your group well until then.”
“I know,” I said.
Lady Agnue nodded, but didn’t seem convinced that I believed her. “I mean that truly,” she asserted. “I feel like I am seeing the world quite differently lately, and as a result I have reflected on the many times I quite cruelly threatened you and spoke about how I wished you would not return to school. Now that such dark things are happening and I have seen who you really are beneath the bravado and irksome boldness, I regret making such declarations.”
“Lady Agnue,” I said, heaving my last suitcase onto the floor beside the other two. “People change. It’s okay. I forgive you . . . I mean that truly.”
Emotion rarely highlighted my headmistress’s face. It was like she was a ghost who’d forgotten human nature long ago. But she was getting better at showing her feelings. And I was getting better at seeing past the stereotype of “villainous school principal” to appreciate the real woman underneath. We were both growing, and because of that, I could tell that my forgiveness meant a lot to her. Being in a good enough place to offer it meant a lot to me too. Making peace with Lady Agnue allowed me to release one layer of conflict and hatred I’d been harboring for many years. And letting go of that was purifying.
“Perhaps we will see each other in Clevaunt,” she said. “The Darlings have prepared a cottage for me in the capital’s village so that I can join the rest of my family.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Do you want me to wave if we do see each other?”
Lady Agnue blinked. “Let us not get carried away, Crisanta.”
I smiled a bit. “You’re right. We’ll go with casual nods of acknowledgment. That seems more appropriate.”
Lady Agnue cracked a thin smile too and headed for the door. “I will have the school staff come up to help you with your bags. Unless a strong, empowered hero such as yourself would prefer to take them down on her own?” she said with a touch of goodnatured mocking.
“Please. I’m a hero-princess,” I replied. “If your people want to carry my stuff, tell them to have at it.”
Our parting was brief, our takeoff quick.
Clevaunt was even farther than my kingdom of Midveil, so we’d be flying for most of the day and would need to make a couple of stops so Lucky could rest and we could all eat and stretch. With our luggage strapped down and Jason flying the first shift, I leaned against the saddle and looked back at Lady Agnue’s as we flew away. The sky was the best vantage point to appreciate the campus, and I would definitely say my appreciation for the place had grown.
I used to dread coming to Lady Agnue’s, fearing it stifled my individuality and livelihood. But now, just one year from my own graduation, I now knew that this school was a shelter. It was a place where the worst problems were about how much homework you had and what club or clique to join. It was a place where the future was a promise but was framed to appear an eternity away. And it was a place where you could safely and happily pursue fun, procrastination, and friendship without bigger stakes weighing you down.
My school’s purple turrets shimmered in the June sunlight and I gazed at the familiar flag with our crest on it one last time before we moved past cloud level and it was gone from view.
Next year, if I were fortunate enough to return in one piece, I would approach Lady Agnue’s with a new attitude. For now I understood the truth that so many people my age probably missed. School was a blessed place where all roles—princess, daughter, sister, hero, etc.—took a back seat to the role of being a kid. And that was the greatest character archetype I could think of.
h, thank Book we’re here,” exclaimed Blue.
The sun had set a few minutes ago, taking all warmth with it. Clevaunt was so far north it felt like it was late January, not June.
Ahead and below, the kingdom’s capital zigzagged from the base of the mountains to the top. Gold seemed to edge every structure, reflecting the lights of the assorted buildings. From above, that made it look like someone had pasted streams of glitter glue up the mountain.
A thick forest of trees intermixed with the area at ground level. Despite it being summer, patches of snow clung to the mountain peaks, the tallest of which hosted an impressive castle. Chance’s castle. It was constructed primarily of gold—a glowing beacon of a palace if I’d ever seen one.
The traditional way to reach the castle was a long, steep path that began at the base of the mountains. There was, however, an illuminated platform constructed of steel, stone, and gold beams that jutted from a lower level of the compound, likely for the royal family’s Pegasi and flying carriages. In our case, it was just the right landing pad for Lucky.
At the helm of my dragon now, I saw Chance walk down the runway to join Clevaunt castle guards (dressed in sharp white and gold uniforms).
Lucky eyed the platform—the space was narrow—and flapped his wings with hesitation before descending the last amount. I patted him supportively. “You’re okay, boy.” He reluctantly believed me and landed.
The guards approached to help us with our bags. We lowered them down, then one by one my friends and I slid off Lucky.
“Thanks for the call at your last rest stop,” Chance said. “It gave us time to prepare for your arrival.”
“No problem,” I said. Then I glanced back at Lucky worriedly. “Um, Chance, this is fine for the moment, but where can Lucky hang out long term while we’re here?”
“Don’t worry; I put a lot of thought into that. We cleared out our biggest barn by the stables. I wasn’t sure what kind of weather dragons could take, so I thought it was better to be safe than sorry and make sure he had a warm place to sleep indoors.”
“That’s really thoughtful,” I replied. “Thank you.”
“I can fly Lucky down there with you and Javier.” Chance looked to our friend, who’d joined us. “So you’ll know exactly where he is; then we can take a shortcut back to the castle.”
“Sounds good,” Javier said.
At my nod, Chance turned to the guards. “Men, can you please show my friends inside? This is Jason and this is Blue.” He gestured accordingly.
Both my friends said hello, but Blue shivered through her greeting. “How is it this cold in June?” Small flakes of white fell from the sky where thick gray clouds had moved in. “And how is it snowing?”
“We’re so high up and so far north that it’s cold almost all year round,” Chance explained. “We only have about ten hours of daylight during the summer and seven hours in the winter. And we get a lot of rain no matter what time of year it is, so that equals snow when it’s particularly cold.”
“You might have mentioned that when you suggested we stay here for our summer vacation,” Blue replied.
Chance grimaced. “Sorry. We’ll get you fixed up, Blue, I promise. I have plenty of sisters with large winter wardrobes, and if you can’t find anything that’s your style, we can pick up some things in the village tomorrow. Anything, any of you need, just let me know.”
“Thanks, man,” Jason said, rubbing his arm as the cold set in. “For now, I think getting inside will be sufficient.”
Chance nodded and then signaled to the head guard, who’s embroidered lapel read “Craegon.” The man motioned to the other guards, and they began moving toward the castle with our bags. Jason and Blue tried to help, but the men insisted on carrying everything themselves.
“You’ll find hot chocolate in the sitting room,” Chance said to Jason and Blue. “We’ll meet you both there in a bit.”
I looked longingly in the direction of the castle, which caused Chance to chuckle. “T
here’ll still be plenty when we get back. Come on.”
As Jason and Blue headed up the runway, Javier and I climbed aboard Lucky’s saddle. Chance took the driver’s seat and proceeded to fly Lucky in a tight descending trajectory around the castle mountain until we reached a forested area at ground level beside a stretch of open land. The area was lush and abundant in stables and barns. Before we lowered below the tree line, I spotted a large arena built into the high part of an adjacent mountain.
Chance landed us in a nice spot near some frost-covered trees.
“What was that big building built into the next mountain over?” Javier asked as we dismounted.
“It’s our local stadium,” Chance explained. “For Clevaunt’s Twenty-Three Skidd team, tournaments, figure skating competitions, miniature narwhal polo, and so on.”
“Miniature narwhal polo?” I repeated.
“It’s a Clevaunt thing. I’ll show you later.”
Half a dozen attendants approached hesitantly. I saw the fear in their eyes and calmly stepped forward, patting Lucky’s snout.
“It’s fine. He’s very friendly. He eats a lot and likes to nap so he won’t make any trouble. And he really likes being pet. Come, give it a try.”
For a moment, no one moved. Then the youngest of the attendants—a girl with a ponytail—slowly walked toward Lucky, reached out her hand, and placed it on his face. Lucky closed his eyes contentedly.
We gave the staff a rundown of his typical nap schedule (often) and eating habits (meat scraps and root vegetables). Lucky was by no means a vegetarian, but I think the fact that he slept so much meant he didn’t need a high protein or high carb diet. At school, he ate whatever leftovers the kitchens provided in bulk and had never eaten anything not specifically given to him, so local sheep, deer, and other wildlife were in no danger.
I told the attendants not to remove his saddle since it took an awful lot of work to secure, and Javier would be taking Lucky back to Lady Agnue’s in the morning. Lucky noticed the saddle as much as a person noticed when they were sleeping with socks on, so it wasn’t an issue.
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