Moments later, the two female fairies I’d met in the royal carriage appeared at the other side of the table. Each carried scimitars twice the size of the Sword of Lightning, which blazed with white magic. The ogres huddled around the walls gasped at their appearance.
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. They should have been here instead of hiding away with their comrades.
“Where are the spriggans?” The shorter of the pair flapped her serrated wings. Her cruel, thin-lipped face twisted with determination.
Father raised the spriggan’s disembodied head. “This is all that’s left of the one who acted as a decoy.”
“Where is its body?” Her gaze darted around the Senate room. “Did you let it regenerate?”
“It got destroyed,” I said.
“By what?” she snapped.
I raised my shoulders around my ears. If the fairies had ripped off Gladius’ golden armor and buried him deep into the earth, they must have deemed him as dangerous as the Forgotten King. He was supposed to be the weapon that Killed the Queen of the Fairies, and we needed him in case the spriggan poison didn’t work.
“By the time I ran out there, the spriggan was already destroyed.” I hooked my thumb at the exit. “Take a look if you don’t believe me.”
The fairy narrowed her eyes, and I stared back at her, blanking my expression. She wasn’t even a quarter as intimidating as Father or General Thornicroft. With a snarl, she asked, “Are you sure?”
Mother stepped forward. “Are you questioning my daughter, Captain Comma?”
She furrowed her brow. “Of course not, General, but children have—”
“If she said she didn’t see the spriggan’s body destroyed, then she didn’t see it,” said Mother between clenched teeth. “Go out there and take a look for yourself.”
The shorter fairy turned to her colleague, who disappeared, presumably to check that I’d told the truth about the spriggan’s body.
Aunt Cendrilla glared at the remaining fairy. “Why weren’t you here to help us fight? One of them disappeared with our combined magic.”
The fairy’s jaw dropped, and her serrated wings retracted into her back. “The p-power of his descendants?”
Aunt Cendrilla placed her palms on the table and leaned forward, making the fairy cower. “If he awakens, it’s not the ogres he’ll be coming after. Remember that the next time you avoid a battle.”
Triumph surged through my chest. After the recent appearances of the spriggans, the high fairies could easily have kept someone powerful to watch over Steppe and over the Savannah Empire. Instead, they had left the job to lower fairies like Mother and her platoon, who only held the power of transformation. Poor Prince Vanus had been too busy rescuing those who couldn’t fight against the spriggans, like Uncle Armin and the babies. If even one of those fairies had been in the Senate, they might have been fast enough to alert the others and stop the spriggan from stealing the blessing.
Without a word, the female fairy disappeared.
“Wretched cowards,” Father snarled. “They should keep their spriggans under control.”
I glanced at Mother, who fixed her gaze at a spot on the floor. It looked like she was ashamed of the fairies, too.
“Do you think they want us to take care of things?” I asked.
“I’ll handle those spriggans myself,” said Aunt Cendrilla.
Father snarled. “The babies need you.”
“Agreed” The Magistratus stepped forward from where he’d been standing at the wall. “You have that look of determination in your eyes, Your Majesty, the one that says you’re about to battle. I forbid you from leaving Steppe until you have fully regained your strength from the birth of your quadruplets.”
Her eyes widened. “But—”
“All in favor?”
“Aye!” The voices of the ogres, including Father’s echoed across the Senate.
“This isn’t her fight anyway,” said Fyrian.
“This is the fight of the dragons, not the ogres.” Gladius strode around the assembly hall, his pale eyes blazing with murder. “The spriggans have enough power to awaken the King Who Must Be Forgotten. We must cast aside our previous plans and reach them before they work out how to use that power to raise their master.”
The Magistratus turned to Master Fosco. “One of yours, I presume?”
Master Fosco raised his shoulder.
“Come, Fairy.” Gladius grabbed my arm. A heartbeat later, we stood outside Fyrian’s stall.
Her eyes widened. “Alba, your glamor!”
I yanked my arm out of his grasp, glanced down at my blue bodice and skirt, then scowled at Gladius. “There’s no way I can walk around Mount Fornax like this.”
His brows furrowed. “We need to get King Magnar and tell your friend to hurry the poison.”
“I can’t battle without my armor, and I left that at the palace.”
He blinked. “I have told Fosco. He says he will calm your worried parents and bring your uniform. Take me to the poison. The witch must complete it now.”
I grabbed his arm. “Take us to the Healer’s Academy building, then.”
The door to Master Jesper’s laboratory wouldn’t open to us. I blamed the enchantment the troll had put on it to prevent anyone outside our group from entering the room.
“Where are they?” he growled.
“Hold on.” I knocked on the door.
A moment later, Master Jesper cracked it open and gazed down at Gladius. “Hello?”
The wild dragon puffed out his thin chest. “We need the spriggan poison, now.”
The trolls’ eyes widened. “Whatever for? It won’t be ready for another few days.”
“By then, the spriggans will have worked out how to resurrect the Forgotten King!”
“Who are you, if it isn’t too rude to ask?” asked Master Jesper.
“This is Gladius.” I stepped in front of the pale male. “Did Evolene tell you about the wild dragon?”
Master Jesper’s eyes widened. With a flick of its staff, the door opened, and the troll stepped aside. “You’d better come in.”
While Gladius paced the room and ranted, I explained to Evolene and Master Jesper what had happened in the Ogre Senate, making sure to highlight the high fairies’ cowardly actions. It was clear that they weren’t interested in stopping the spriggans themselves and were waiting to see if the dragons, ogres, or low fairies like Mother would fix the mess they had created.
Evolene stood in the corner, eyes wide, clutching her staff to her chest as though it would form a barrier against the wild dragon’s anger. I turned to her and smiled, trying to convey that Gladius was furious about the situation with the spriggan getting away with enough power to resurrect the Forgotten King, and not about anything we had done.
Gladius let out a growl that made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “They know where they buried the body of the King Who Must Be Forgotten, but they won’t reveal his location. If they could tell me and let me burn him to embers, we would not be in this mess.”
Master Jesper tapped its chin with thick stubby fingers, glancing from me to the pacing dragon. “Would anyone care to explain? I thought Master Fosco had been powerless against the spriggans. Why would Master Gladius succeed against the Forgotten King?”
“Gladius can breathe black flames that burn a body so badly, it can’t absorb ambient magic and regenerate,” I said. “He did it outside the Ogre Senate building.”
“How fascinating,” said Master Jesper. “May I have a sample?”
“No.” Gladius folded his arms across his chest. “Can you finish the poison or not?”
Master Jesper scratched its wrinkled head. “I’m afraid not. The brewing stage is complete, but we still have to cast the spells needed to activate its deadly properties.”
“Do them now,” said the wild dragon.
“I’m afraid it’s more complicated than casting a few enchantments.” Master Jesper launched in
to a long, technical explanation of why certain spells needed several hours for the magic to settle before another spell could be cast effectively. Alchemy was a branch of magic I didn’t fully understand, but the trolls’ reasoning made sense. It finished by saying, “We can supply you with weapons of fairy iron and leave-no-trace invisibility cloaks for everyone, including dragons.”
“Fine.” Gladius held out his hand. “Give them here.”
“Please,” I said.
He turned his pale glower to me. “What?”
“It’s polite to say please.”
The wild dragon bared serrated teeth. “While we are debating human customs, the Forgotten King might be rising from his banishment and on his way to Mount Fornax to enslave every innocent dragon and lead them into a battle they cannot win. I have no need for this delay!”
“He’s right, you know,” said Fyrian. “We need to leave now before the spriggans get far.”
Gladius turned to me with a grunt of triumph.
Master Jesper bustled to the corner of the room, where it retrieved a burlap sack. “After hearing about the events of last night, I took the liberty of making preparations for four full-sized dragons and eight ogre-hybrids or master dragons. Will that be enough?”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
Evolene strolled up to Master Jesper. “D-do you need me to complete the enchantments?”
The troll’s eyes softened. “If you wish to leave, I’ll manage without you.”
She wrapped her arms around the troll’s broad body. “Thank you… for everything.”
Master Jesper cleared its throat. “Don’t make it sound like this will be the last time we see each other. With your proficiency in barriers and with the fairy iron weapons I’ve placed in the sack, you’ll have ample protection from the spriggans.”
“We must leave,” growled Gladius.
I shot the impatient dragon a filthy look. “We still have to collect Fyrian, get a gang together, and find King Magnar.”
Gladius crossed the room and grabbed both Evolene and me by the arms.
“One second,” said Master Jesper.
“What?” snarled Gladius.
The troll slipped its hand into one of the pockets of its cloak and pulled out a little mirror. “Use this to communicate. It requires only the smallest amount of witch magic.”
Evolene took the proffered mirror. “Thank you. Will you use it to let us know when you’ve completed the poison?”
“Absolutely.” Master Jesper dipped its head into a gallant bow. “Take care, children.”
We vanished and reappeared in the vicinity of King Magnar’s hut. Gladius let go of our arms and snarled, “Where is the dung heap I gleaned from None-Of-Your-Business’s memories?”
Evolene dropped to her hands and knees, panting hard. “I-I thought purple dragons needed to transform to be able to do that!”
I hooked my arm under hers and pulled her upright. “Not if they’re very, very old.”
“I am no purple dragon, Witch,” said Gladius. “I am the first. The one who embodies every power in dragon kind and the one who will kill every spriggan with my black flames!”
She pressed her fingers to her lips, eyes widening.
I shrugged. There was no answer to a boast like that, especially when every single word of it was true. I turned to the space where the dung hut used to stand, cupped my hands around my mouth, and shouted, “King Magnar, the spriggans have attacked. We have to go!”
With a pop of white magic, King Magnar’s hut flashed back into existence. The door opened, and an annoying, blond head poked out. His turquoise eyes widened. “Princess Alba? What brings you here?”
I glowered down at my outfit. “How can I go traipsing around iron mines in a skirt?”
“Fosco just brought your armor and left it in my stall,” said Fyrian.
A breath of relief whooshed out of my lungs. “Thank goodness for that!”
King Magnar’s sisters stepped out of the hut with their noses in the air. Astri, the one who looked about nineteen with her straight hair cut to jaw length, said, “About time. I hated the thought of waiting until the new moon to rescue my sisters.”
“We are going to kill spriggans,” said Gladius.
She sniffed. “Same difference.”
I turned to King Magnar. “Are you ready?”
He gave me a grim nod. “Byrrus will fly us to the border.”
The oxblood colored dragon poked his head out from an invisible shelter and nodded.
“Byrrus will do no such thing,” said Gladius. “Direct me to the location of the Forgotten King, and I will transport us.”
Fyrian landed behind us and dropped a bundle on the ground. “I’ve got your uniform. You’d better change if you’re going to do battle.”
“Hold on a second,” I said. “I need to put on my armor.”
“No need.” Astri flicked her staff, bathing me in white light. My blue outfit lay on the ground in a neat pile.
I glanced down to find my leather armor back on my body, complete with knapsack. Flicking long, platinum strands off my face, I snapped, “Ask a person permission before you change them.”
She shrugged. “We’re both girls. What does it matter?”
“Enough!” snarled Gladius. He turned to the oxblood dragon. “You, Byrrus, stand next to None-Of-Your-Business. You, Magnar, place your witches on Byrrus’ back. And you, Fairy, take your witch friend and get on None-Of-Your-Business’ back.”
We all scrambled to follow his directions.
“I hope he isn’t going to be this bossy throughout the adventure,” said Fyrian. “Just because he’s older and more powerful, it doesn’t mean he should be the leader.”
“As long as I get to flame the spriggans, I don’t care who leads this war.” He grabbed onto both dragons’ tails. “Magnar, in which direction do we go first?”
“Twenty leagues north-east,” he replied.
A stomach-churning blink of an eye later, we stood in front of the hills that made up the border between Steppe and the Savannah Empire. Tiny tendrils of magic floated up toward the sky.
“A trap!” Astri snarled.
Chapter 6
I sat back on the saddle squinting at the tendrils of magic rising from the border and let my gaze follow them all the way up. Moonlight made them shimmer as if they’d been coated quicksilver, making it easy to see where they stretched up to the clouds like a curtain. Evolene leaned against my front, mirroring my movement.
“What do you see, Fyri?” I asked.
“In between those silvery bits are tiny bits of magic small enough to catch a fly. There’s no getting past it without consequences.”
“I’d wait around to see what happened if a bird flew into that magic.”
Fyrian snorted. “No animal is stupid enough to defy its own sense of self-preservation.” She paused for a few moments. “Unless the magic is invisible during the day.”
“We can’t fly over this,” I muttered out loud. “There’s no telling whether that thing stretches above the clouds.”
Gladius strode from where he had been holding the dragons’ tails and glanced up at me. “I can burrow under the ground.”
From where she sat between King Magnar and Botilda, Astri turned around, eyes blazing. “Any disturbances in the magic will tell the spriggans we’re at the border. There are six of them left. More than enough to kill us all… or worse.”
“Five,” I said.
“What?” she snapped.
“Master Fosco decapitated one outside the Ogre Senate building,” I replied. “Then Gladius destroyed his body. Only his head remains, and that’s being interrogated.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “It’s good to know something other than fairy iron and Master Jesper’s poison can kill them.”
A breeze blew across the hills, shifting the spriggans’ silver enchantment. The curtain of magic undulated with the wind, creating a concave shape that bulged toward the Savannah side
of the border. No matter how much it moved, the magic didn’t dislodge itself from the hilltops. I bit down on my lip. Asproceros the poacher had said he’d crossed the border on the run from seven bounty-hunting witches from the Rueppelli clan and that a spriggan had approached him demanding dragonets. What if the magic had been in place for weeks, and crossing the border had triggered the spriggan’s appearance?
I turned to Astri. “Have you seen this type of enchantment before?”
Astri shook her head. “They’re always using traps. Trust me, you don’t want to let them know you’re here.”
I rubbed my chin. “Maybe that’s why they asked you to take the long route to Savannah after you captured me in the Magical Militia prison.”
Gladius folded his arms across his chest. “How long is this alternative route?”
My gaze flickered up to a horizon of darkened hills. This part of the border was half-way down the length of Steppe. I was no cartographer, but if we traveled north to the coast and flew over the Cursed Sea, where the magic should have ended, we could fly back into the Savannah Empire along the mountains, and Gladius could transport us to the palace or to the mine of fairy iron.
I tapped my lip, trying to make the calculations in my head. “A few days?”
He let out a growl of frustration. “In that time, the Forgotten King will have been resurrected!”
King Magnar shook his head. “The magic can’t stretch the entire border. Why don’t we fly a few leagues north?”
With a grunt of approval, Gladius walked around Fyrian and transformed into the iridescent dragon. The moon captured all the colors on his scales, giving them a silvery tinge. He bowed his head at Byrrus as though telling him to lead the way.
The oxblood colored dragon flew in front with Fyrian and Gladius behind him to his left and right. We traveled north alongside the hills, checking every so often for a gap or a rift in the curtain of magic that separated Steppe from Savannah. Somehow the spriggans had created such a complete barrier, making it impossible to cross. Up ahead, a flock of nighthawks flying toward the barrier changed direction, as though afraid of the foul magic.
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