Fierce Winds and Fiery Dragons (Dusky Hollows: Book 1)

by Nan Sweet

  Chapter 12

  At first Carrie wasn't afraid of the dark. As a matter of fact, she felt confident that she would be back at the castle stairs at any moment, but the moments passed and eventually she realized that she had missed a turn somewhere. That's when she started to worry. It wasn't so much the dark itself as that there was no way to remove the darkness, as if she suddenly went blind and didn't know if she'd ever see again.

  When a soldier stopped her with a “Halt in the name of the King”, Carrie smiled. She couldn't help herself.

  “Oh, it is SO good to hear another voice. I've been walking around in the dark forEVER” Carrie couldn't see the soldier in the dark, but his voice was soft and deep and rather comforting after the trying time she'd had.

  “The King has been waiting to see you.” The soldier walked away, his footsteps quickly fading into the darkness.

  “Wait!” Carrie called out. “Where are you going? I can't see a thing out here.”

  The soldier returned and when she stumbled in the dark, she felt a hand on her arm. The fingers felt strangely hard, more so than a human hand, as if she was feeling bone instead of flesh. “Are you completely blind or just affected by the dark?”

  “I can see with light.” Carrie said.

  The soldier turned on a small lantern. A small flame jumped. It was the cutest little lantern Carrie had ever seen. He held it up for her. In that instant, she caught a glimpse of his face and his eye sockets with burning flames for eyes. She didn't jump or scream. After all, the fellow was being kind to her. Still, it gave her a bit of a shiver. He was more of a skeleton than the princess. Carrie wondered if the princess would look this scary when she grew up.

  “Thank you.” Carrie was proud of herself for remembering her manners.

  Carrie was given refreshments, a lovely custard with a tasty crust and water. After she had been sitting a while, she was summoned to the throne room. King Glome was seated in his royal seat, having just returned from the gardens, and clapped his hands when the guard brought Carrie before him. “What a treat! The woman who saved my daughter. I have the perfect reward.”

  Carrie didn't know what to do. In all the stories, girls did curtsies and boys bowed, but girls wore dresses and here she was in pajamas. She decided on a curtsy and said, “I don't need a reward, sir.”

  “Pah,” King Glome said, “You shall be married to Lord Troy.”

  Carrie didn't like where this was going. Betrothed at ten? That was a terrible fairy tale and totally stunk as a reward. “Your Highness, I am too young to be married.”

  At that moment, the princess entered the royal throne room, her hair piled up. She was dressed in a frilly gown. Carrie had to guess the color since the lantern wouldn't give that much detail. The princess was not happy to see Carrie. “What is she doing here? You fetched her, didn't you? I told you she was rude. I didn't need saving.”

  Carrie wished that she was a princess. Maybe she'd be spoiled and have a father who actually cared about whether she was kidnapped. Carrie snapped at her. “You should be grateful that you have someone who cares about whether you return.”

  King Glome heard those words with a heavy heart. After all, he had arranged his own daughter's kidnapping and yet this rescuer was giving him credit for caring, which of course he did, but he couldn't manage the princess and certainly didn't know what to do with her. The princess put a hand on her hip and said, “Ooohhhhh, I can't believe you're even talking to her. Daddy, show her to the surface immediately.”

  The way she said the word surface, Carrie knew that the princess thought it a punishment. But she'd love to be shown the surface. She was ready to walk out of this crazy dark world and find the way back on her own.

  “Some day, this girl is going to be a royal cousin. I expect you to treat her as such.” It was the biggest set down King Glome could give to his royally spoiled daughter and she seemed to draw herself up in anger ready to throw a royal tantrum.

  Carrie had no idea what the king would do to her when she spoke her mind. From what she had read, kings often threw people in dungeons for disagreeing with their royal edicts, but a dungeon might be better than what he had in mind for her. “I agree with your daughter. I belong on the surface.”

  “We'll talk about this after dinner.” The king waved his hand to the steward, “Get this girl comfortable chambers, clothes, and food. See that she wants for nothing.”

  The steward led Carrie through a labyrinth of halls, allowing her the use of that same flickering lantern.

  Carrie liked her new room. She jumped on the bed. Her father would have yelled at her, but her father wasn't here. And she was angry. No one listened to her. Not that she should expect a king to listen, but there were limits to what a kid could take. So she jumped, trying to reach the ceiling, which she could barely see anyway in the dim light. At least the steward brought her more candles. The room was awash in candle light and the room was beautiful, stunning even, which surprised Carrie. And she'd taken a bath in hot water.

  The dresses were pretty, and this new nightgown she wore felt so soft. She loved touching the fabric. Carrie said, “I can't be bought.”

  She jumped again and wished that Ivy was here to jump with her. It really wasn't fun breaking the rules alone. The princess opened the door to her room. “There you are. I was told you had bathed and been given a new wardrobe. Are you really going to be my cousin?”

  Carrie sprung as high as she could, “No.”

  The princess shrugged, taking a seat at the vanity. “You should stop doing that. Daddy says you might break through the ceiling and end up in the overworld on the surface if you jump on the bed.”

  Carrie jumped again, “He was lying to you.”

  The princess straightened her spine and tilted her chin, and with a fierce gaze said, “My royal father does not lie.”

  The princess had to be at least four years older than Carrie. She wondered how Minerva could be so naïve. “My parents lie all the time. My mom said that we were a happy family and that her arguments with dad didn't mean anything and then he left. He said he'd come see me on the weekends, but half the time he's too busy. I bet your father did lie.”

  The princess watched Carrie leap again. “How long have you been jumping?”

  “Since I got out of the bath. My hair is almost dry.” Carrie said, tugging on a strand as she flew into the air.

  “And you haven't flown into the overworld?” The princess took a step closer to the bed.

  “Not once. Come on, it's really fun.” The bed was huge. Carrie bounced back to make room for the princess.

  “Do your parents let you jump on the bed?” The princess asked.

  “No. I'd get in so much trouble if I did.” Carrie said.

  “Because you might hop into the overworld?” The princess asked.

  “They say I'll break the bed.”

  “Oh, well, I'll just get another one.” Scrambling up, the princess took a test leap. “Hey, this is fun.”

  The girls pounced and played, tried jumping off the bed onto the carpet, from the carpet onto the bed, and laughed until their sides hurt. When the steward knocked to remind Carrie to change for dinner, the princess helped her change into the pretty blue gown with ribbons and a hoop skirt and helped fix her hair. “I've never had a friend before.” The princess said shyly.

  “It's because you were taught to be royal.” Carrie said, “It's hard to be a friend with someone that you have to bow to.”

  The princess thought about that. “Is it really?”

  Carrie pulled up the strange stockings, which were similar to nylons but thicker. “It really is. Like being friends with a teacher.” She thought of Mrs. Huffity. Even the cool teachers were still teachers, and as nice as they might be, they weren't friends.

  The princess held out Carrie's shoes. “Don't bow to me ever again. I'd rather play. Please, can we be friends?”

  Thinking of Ivy, Carrie realized how lucky she was, how lucky she h
ad always been. This girl lived alone. It didn't matter how much stuff you had or how many servants to fetch things...if you didn't have someone to care about, it was all meaningless. “We'll be great friends.”

  The girls chatted through dinner, much to the surprise of the royal court and the servants. They had expected the princess to order Carrie about the way she did her cousins.

  King Glome whispered to his wife, “What are they talking about?”

  “The current conversation is centered around dragons,” his wife smiled primly to the ambassador before whispering, “This new friend of hers has dangerous ideas. She seems to think she can befriend a dragon.”

  Glome laughed, “Don't worry, Dear. It's doubtful she will ever meet one.”

  The queen didn't share Glome's certainty. She listened to the chatter and wondered where her beloved daughter had gone. Her Minerva had been taught to put people in their proper place. Perhaps the stranger's marriage to a lesser cousin would take care of the problem. Too young? Hah! What commoner could say no to a king?