More whispers filled the cavern like a haze buzzing in the background.
The female rebel leader exchanged a glance with her stylishly scarfed colleague before looking down at us. “You’re protagonists. And children. You have no sympathy for our situation or real grasp of the extent to which our system is broken. Our kind has to take action and move swiftly. Thoughtful words mean nothing.”
“Words are the foundation of everything important,” SJ said, joining me at the center of the platform. “And they should not be spoken unless they are thoughtful. Furthermore, who cares if we are children? You do not have to be an adult to see what is right. In fact, if history has taught us anything, maybe adults see it less than we do.”
“And who are you?” The scarfed leader asked.
“I am Princess SJ Kaplan and this is Prince Gordon Sinclaire and Princess Marie Sinclaire. The reason we came here tonight is because we do understand how broken the system is . . .” SJ gave me a look, as if searching for final reassurance. I nodded once then she lifted her chin and faced the rebel leader platform with complete gumption.
I held my breath.
We were about to reveal a secret we’d kept for a long time in order to protect the realm’s status quo. Once it was out, it would either irrevocably damage our realm’s government and give the rebellion the fire it needed to recruit every common character left in Book, or help us connect with them on a new level. If Lenore were here, she would have turned all of us into mice—Debbie literally said so—to stop this truth from escaping. But Lenore wasn’t here, Debbie trusted me, and the rest of us were going out on a limb.
“The system of protagonist selection is more broken than you know,” SJ said. “Not all royals are chosen as main characters by the Author. Gordon, Marie, and I are examples of this. We discovered recently that the higher-ups forged books for us so that we could attend protagonist school and be afforded all the benefits and opportunities that go with that station. The three of us may come from royal families, but in terms of our realm’s character division, we are common. Just like you.”
This time there were no murmurs or whispers. Heated shouts of disbelief and anger broke out all over the cavern. The rebel leaders were all standing now, arguing with each other.
“Our hope!” Gordon shouted loudly, calling back their attention. “Is that by revealing this secret you understand the olive branch we’re trying to extend. The system is broken and it’s not fair. My sister and I only found out about this deception earlier today, and we’re going to need some time to fully accept that our lives have been built on a lie. But we are smart enough to accept immediately that something needs to be done about it. So, help us do something about it.”
“Kill them all!” someone shouted from the cheap seats.
General Fray glared up at the heckler. “Silence!”
Everyone fell quiet. The female rebel leader nodded to her equals on the platform then addressed her people.
“The Knight girl could probably kill us all if she wanted, but obviously she and the others are seeking another outcome if they are willing to go to these lengths and give us information that could only cause their side harm. We will hear out their proposal and then decide on our action.” She turned to speak to my group. “All right, main characters. You have our attention. For your sake, I hope you’ve come with more than just a few good speeches.”
I nodded, now more confident in the plan my team and I had cooked up. “It involves Gallant,” I said. “Your people have held that kingdom and its castle hostage since the Vicennalia Aurora. Lena Lenore was planning on reclaiming it in the next few days, but my Fairy Godmother Debbie and I are revealing this plan to you because we don’t intend to follow through with it. We are going to convince the Godmother Supreme to turn our surprise attack into a planned peace talk. We’ll have representatives from all three sides—commons rebellion, realm higher-ups, and protagonists. At that time, we’ll find a way to end this. All of this. The fighting. The death. The unfairness of the way we divide up our people.”
The rebel leader in the scarf huffed in amusement. “You actually think we can overcome ages of hostility and injustice in one afternoon?”
“No,” Marie said, stepping forward. Her voice was so much softer than ours, yet still rang with conviction and power. “But it will be the first wise step that anyone in this conflict has taken.”
The rebel leaders circled up to discuss things. My friends and I exchanged glances.
Please let this work. Please let people be better than what we’ve come to expect.
“All right.”
We perked up at the voice of General Fray. “Godmother.” She addressed Debbie. “Are you certain you can convince the infamous Lena Lenore to agree to this peace talk?”
“I am,” Debbie said. “Lena Lenore is not wicked. She may not be entirely good either, but in the gray moral area where she exists, she has always been driven by a desire to do what’s best for the realm. It’s just a matter of coming up with a different definition of what that means and looks like. I think that’s something all of you, and all of us, need to work on. Why not work on it together?” The rebel leaders held one last private conversation before General Fray made her declaration to the entire assembly.
“One week from today,” she said, “we will send twelve of our rebellion leaders. You can send three Godmothers, three other realm higher-ups of your choosing, and six protagonists. The latter has to include the three of you royals who had their books forged, as you will perhaps present a less entitled viewpoint than other members of your kind. All parties will meet at Gallant Castle and be granted safe entry for a peace summit at noon on that day. And we will see if we can work on this together, or if our issues really are insurmountable.”
My heart rose in alarm.
A week from today! I’ll be in Dreamland!
“Um, is there any way we could make that date a little earlier?” I asked. “It’s just—”
“Crisanta Knight!” General Fray barked. “Do you want peace or not? I hardly think we can trust that your kind can overcome century-old inequality if one princess cannot even overcome a scheduling conflict to talk to us about it.”
Blue shot me a panicked look. She knew what I’d been thinking—neither of us wanted to miss this pivotal moment in our realm’s fate, but we couldn’t afford to offend the rebels. We had to take what we could get. Their only condition was having SJ, Gordon, and Marie be present for the talks; I guess I would have to fight my nature and be okay with sitting this one out.
I nodded hastily. “Okay. One week from today. Noon in Gallant. You have a deal.”
“Good,” our hostess said. “Now get out before we come to our senses.”
enore,” I said. “You know this is right.”
Debbie and I stood in the Godmother Supreme’s office the morning after our confrontation with the rebels. Lenore had her arms crossed and back to us.
Talking to the rebels had been one of the most difficult things I’d ever done. Now came the second hardest—convincing the most powerful woman in our realm, the woman who was basically my magical master, and the woman who had essentially been my archenemy for an entire school year, to change her mind and agree with me.
“It is our chance to bring about lasting peace,” Debbie said earnestly. She walked carefully across the silver carpet and paused under the room’s black chandelier. “You, of anyone, should be tired of this pattern our realm is locked in, Godmother Supreme. Your anti-aging spell has meant over a century of beating back the same rebellion over and over. Surely you must be exhausted from that.”
“You would have me show weakness instead?” Lenore said, still not turning around. “Destroy what I have been upholding since long before either of you—or any of them—were born?”
She turned finally and strode closer to my Godmother and me. “Cedars live for hundreds of years, ladies. They may be assailed by birds that peck holes, damaged by fungus, and bleed sap, but they
do not fall because they are strong and can endure. Our system has and can endure. The rebels will not.”
“You don’t know that,” I said. “And even if it were true, why is that good enough? Why struggle and suffer choosing to spend eternity pushing and pulling at one another if we can find a better way? We’re all so stuck in these same patterns, it’s like we’re incapable of learning anything. We tear at one another when the answers are so simple.”
Lenore scoffed. “You think equality and change and forging a better world are simple?”
“Simpler than spending the duration of humanity finding new ways to bring each other down,” I countered. “Why can’t we just let the past go and be better?”
“Maybe people can’t be better,” Lenore argued.
“Maybe they could be if we just gave them a chance.” My hands started to glow gold.
Calm down.
Debbie touched my shoulder. I took a deep breath and reined in my magic, lowered my ego, and put aside all emotion.
“Lenore . . . Lena . . . I didn’t get it before. When you and I first met, I automatically painted you as an enemy because we saw the world differently. I know better now. We may come from opposing perspectives, but we want the same thing. I think the rebels do too. All anybody wants, I think, is a chance to be heard and seen and given a choice. You never gave me that and look what happened. We sniped at each other for months when we could have been working together. The Gallant Summit is a chance to take a new path. It’s a chance to change.”
Debbie stepped forward so she and Lenore were a foot apart. “You’re our leader, Godmother Supreme. If change is going to happen, it has to start with you. Bend a little and we won’t break. We’ll become stronger.”
Lenore and Debbie stared at each other in silence for a minute. Then Lenore turned and walked across the room. She released a sigh and pressed a large black button by the quill holder on her desk.
“Joan,” she grumbled. “Clear my schedule for next Monday at noon. I have a summit in Gallant to attend.”
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Chance sat up when he heard me. He’d been lying on the floor in the center of his castle’s observatory. It was five times the size of the one at Lord Channing’s. The walls were composed of blue mosaic tile and every edge of the perimeter had gold. The ceiling of the room was a singular panel of glass and through it flooded the colors of the afternoon sky. White fluffy clouds passed by overhead in the most whimsical way.
“I have to say,” I continued as I walked over, my voice and footsteps echoing across the room. “I am surprised that in all the days I’ve been here you never brought me to the observatory yourself. It sounded really important to you when we talked about it at Lord Channing’s. When I couldn’t find you anywhere, I had a hunch and asked one of your siblings where it was.”
I carefully sat down on the floor beside him. He smiled at me but it was small, forced even. “I guess you know me pretty well by now.”
“I’m trying to,” I said. “And you know me pretty well too. There is something we haven’t talked about though.”
“What’s that?”
“What to do when your heart is broken.”
Chance looked at me seriously. “Who broke your heart?”
“No one. Not today anyway. I’m talking about you, Chance.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Heroes don’t do broken hearts, Crisa.”
“This is me you’re talking to, Chance, not one of your brothers or your parents or classmates. The macho hero attitude isn’t necessary. You’re sad. What happened to your castle is sad. Your home was attacked. Guards who were supposed to keep you safe were killed. You had to deal with that feeling—that terrible, soul wrenching feeling—that your friends and family were in trouble and you didn’t know if you could save them.”
“Crisa, I’m not—”
“Think about when that turret got blown off your castle. Think about the look on your sisters’ faces when those rebels were pushing them forward. Think about baby James crying as that magic hunter carried him to—”
“Enough!” Chance’s anger surprised me. I don’t think I’d ever seen him mad before. He regained some of his calm a second later. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t yell at you.”
“Maybe you should,” I said. “You and your family were kind enough to let us stay here. I provoked those rebels so much they stormed your castle to take me down and capture any other magical people they could get their hands on. It’s my fault . . .”
I hadn’t expressed this guilt I was feeling to anyone. The reality of it weighed heavily now that I’d finally acknowledged it. I stared vacantly ahead as the admittance simmered.
“You provoked them,” Chance said after a moment. “But we still should have considered the danger of having so many magical people under one roof. Overlooking that is all our faults. My family and me included. We have always been a bit too cocky for our own good.”
“A feeling I’m familiar with . . .” I leaned back on my hands and sighed. “I can’t believe your family hasn’t kicked us out yet.”
Chance leaned back too. “They’re not going to. For a myriad of reasons. I already talked to them about it. Four of us with magic will be leaving to Dreamland shortly, so there’ll be fewer magical people here. They get how important it is to keep Mauvrey safe. And honestly, they respect you and the others so much more now that you’ve risked everything to set up a chance to broker peace with the rebels. My parents may not be the best parents, but they’re excellent rulers and always do what they think will benefit the greater good. You and the others, you benefit the greater good.”
“You’re included in that group.”
Chance didn’t respond.
“I’m sorry for provoking you a minute ago,” I said after a lull passed. “I guess I have a bad habit of doing that to people. I just . . . I know what it’s like, Chance. I know how devastating an attack on your home can be. I may be your only friend who does. And I want you to know that you can talk to me about it.”
“The castle will be fine,” Chance said, not meeting my eyes. “Other than that one tower, the actual structural damage was minimal and the cleanup crew is almost done fixing the internal damage. My parents have met with the families of all the fallen guards, and they’re holding a mass funeral service for them next week. All men who lost their lives are being presented with medals of honor post-mortem.”
I considered asking how many guards had been killed versus how many villains I’d taken out, but thought better of it. Maybe it was a good thing I’d lost track of where I was with my death toll after taking so many lives during the attack. With everything that had happened since then, I didn’t want to keep count anymore. Living in the gray was fine. Taking lives when necessary and on the defensive was fine—any number of dead bad guys was nothing more than a number; they didn’t count as people to me anymore. But something about keeping score no longer felt satisfying. It felt too calculating, and like it took my malice a step too far.
“And your family?” I asked. “How are they doing?”
“My parents and older siblings seem fine. They’re concentrating on reinforcing castle security and improving countermeasures. The little kids are pretty shaken though. The triplets and my two youngest brothers have been sleeping in my parents’ room.”
“And you?”
“I can’t complain. Despite the odds, no one in my family died.”
“That doesn’t mean a piece of you didn’t.”
He looked at me for a long moment. “After the attack on your castle, Crisa . . . what did you do? I doubt you went running to cry about it to your friends.”
“I didn’t. But part of me wishes I would have. Maybe I wouldn’t have carried around so much pain for so long. I’ll never know. Instead, I used all my energy to focus on my next mission and buried the hurt and hatred and sadness under my desire to move forward.”
“I could do the same,” C
hance said. “We leave for Dreamland soon. There are bigger, more important things to focus on besides my feelings of fear and post-traumatic stress.”
“If you want,” I said. “Or you could just tell me about them and then move forward for real, not as a front like I’ve done in the past.”
He huffed and shied away from me again—not meeting my gaze. Pride and a touch of bitterness colored his expression. “You’d think less of me.”
“I’d think more of you,” I replied ardently. “Chance. Chance look at me.”
He did.
“Whatever ends up happening between us, we are friends. I care about you—not just the handsome hero version who dances with me at balls and swoops down from the sky on a flying horse, but also the version who gets bullied by his siblings, who loves astronomy and mint ice cream and his sister, and who gets scared when things are out of his control.”
A long silence hung between us until Chance finally, truly let me in.
“I’d never felt so helpless,” he said, almost in a whisper.
“I get that,” I replied softly.
“I think about it when I’m alone. Whenever I close my eyes I can hear the shouting and the shots fired, I can see the fear on my sibling’s faces. I feel like I want to take revenge, and take action, and be out there doing something, anything, but also I just . . .”
He released a big, defeated sigh and leaned back to lay down on the floor again. He stared up at the ceiling. “I just want to lie here.”
A beat passed, then I surprised Chance by joining him—lying down on my back and staring up at the ceiling too. “Then we’ll just lie here,” I said.
And that’s what we did. He and I rested there, still and quiet next to each other, watching the clouds pass. However, my heart soon compelled me to do something more. After a few moments I lifted my forearm so that my hand was within Chance’s sight. He didn’t say anything, but he understood. He accepted my offer and took my hand.
The Darling Castle library was located in one of the higher towers and had an abundance of windows, all of which were open. The breeze outside made the pages flutter, but it allowed in crisp air, which was necessary for keeping fresh both a room full of old books, and the minds of a group of anxious teens.
Into the Gray Page 45