I mean, I think I know what he was going to say. Because he was talking about how much he’s enjoyed our time here together, and about his feelings for me, and that can really only point to one thing, right?
Amelrik claps the book shut, startling me out of my thoughts. “Wow.”
I sit up a little. “What did you think?”
“I hated it.”
“What?”
“I mean, I loved it. But I also hated it.”
“You mean, because of what happens to Liam?” At one point near the end, the murderer tries to kill Princess Genevieve, since she’s getting too close to solving the case. But Prince Liam jumps in the way and takes a knife to the chest that was meant for her.
“All that, and they don’t even get to be together!”
“But she knows he’s her true love now.” That has to count for something.
“That doesn’t matter if he’s dead! And what, because Liam takes the hit for her, she’s able to catch the murderer and get Orlando out of jail?” He sighs. “Not. Fair. She’s already having his baby.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter if he’s free, because she’s heartbroken over Liam. And we don’t know for sure that he’s dead.”
Amelrik scoffs. “There’s no way he could have survived that.”
“But it happens right near the end. We don’t actually see him again. He might still be alive in the next book.”
“Wishful thinking. And I thought you wanted her to end up with Orlando?”
“That doesn’t mean I want Liam to die. Besides, I’m coming around to the idea of them being together.”
“That’s how the author wants you to feel! That’s why she’s killing him off.”
“I guess we’ll find out in book eight.” Except it won’t be out for another year. Will we even know each other then? I can’t imagine not seeing Amelrik every day—not being with him—even if that’s what’s theoretically supposed to happen. And I know what he said, that being together like this was just going to make it hurt more when we have to say good-bye, but . . . Saying good-bye doesn’t feel real, and I can’t picture a future without him. I don’t want to.
I bury my face in his chest, and he tightens his arms around me, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking because he’s thinking it, too.
“Virginia, I . . . I have to tell you something.”
“So tell me.” Nervous excitement builds up inside me, and I feel like I’m either going to throw up or burst out laughing. Neither of which would be a very good reaction to him actually working up the courage to say what I think he’s going to say, so I really hope I can control myself. “Whatever it is, it’s all right.”
“It’s really not.” He pulls away and stands up, so he’s not on the bed with me anymore. “Don’t hate me.”
My heart beats faster, and an uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. “Why would I hate you?”
“Because I screwed up. I tried to tell you, I really did, but I didn’t know how. Not when we should have left, and not after it was too late.”
“What do you mean, we should have left? And too late for what?”
He glances up at me. His eyes meet mine. “Tonight is the Feast of Eventide.”
It takes a second for that to register. “Tonight?! You mean, like, tonight tonight?”
“It’s going on right now. We should have left for Elder clan yesterday. This morning at the latest.”
I feel numb. “That’s what you’ve been trying to tell me?!”
“I know it was wrong, but I just couldn’t—”
“I thought you were going to say that you loved me!”
His eyes go wide, and he takes a step back. “What?”
Crap. Why did I say that? “I mean, I didn’t know what you were going to tell me. But I didn’t think it was going to be something like this!” I get up from the bed, on the opposite side of him, and pretend to be very interested in the carvings on the bedpost.
“Do you . . .” He pauses, but I’m too absorbed in this solid craftsmanship to bother looking up and seeing how freaked out he probably is.
But I’m pretty sure he was going to ask me if I love him, which is a question I’m not ready for. Because, for one thing, he was supposed to say it first, and for another, he wasn’t supposed to have lied to me.
But then, thankfully, he clears his throat and says, “I never meant for this to happen.”
“What? For me to find out? Did you think I wouldn’t notice if the Feast of Eventide never came? Do you think I’m that stupid, or were you going to make up new lies to keep me here?!”
He flinches at that, and even though I’m mad at him, it still stings to know I’ve hurt him. “I don’t know what I was thinking, only that these past few weeks have been the happiest of my life, and I didn’t want them to end. Going to Elder clan is dangerous. We’d be risking our lives—I’d be risking losing you. And once we rescue your sister, this is all over.”
“I can’t believe I ever thought that you . . .” I wrap my arms around myself and stare at the floor. “That you were going to say you felt that way about me. It was stupid.”
“It wasn’t.” He circles around to my side of the bed. “It wasn’t stupid at all. And I never meant to lie. I just didn’t know how to let go of you, Virginia.” He reaches out to touch my arm, but I pull away.
“Why does rescuing Celeste have to be the end of this?” I gesture to the two of us, trying really hard to ignore the pleading look in his eyes.
“Because you’re going home afterward.”
“You could come with me.” Celeste won’t like it, but what can she really say about it? Of course, my father won’t like it, either, and neither will anyone else at the barracks. But we can find a way around that. I think.
Amelrik’s shaking his head. “If I could, then I would, but I’m a known dragon. I’d end up in your dungeon again, if I wasn’t executed on the spot. And this is my home. I’ve been gone so long, and now I’m finally back, and my father’s actually acknowledging me. It’s what I’ve always wanted, and I . . . I can’t just disappear.”
“But . . .” But even though I knew this was supposed to end, part of me didn’t believe that it would. I thought we’d find a way to still be together somehow. Because how can I leave someone who means so much to me?
“I can’t go with you, Virginia, but you could come back here. To Hawthorne clan.”
“As your concubine?”
“You could be more than that. You are more than that. And—”
“I thought you said your father would kill me if he knew how you really felt?” And I’m sure Amelrik wouldn’t come out of the situation unscathed, either.
“He wouldn’t have to know. Things could be like they are now.”
“For how long? I don’t care what your clan thinks about me, but sooner or later, someone’s going to figure out the truth. That’s going to be bad for both of us.” I glance up at him. “And I still can’t cast the binding spell. How long could I stay here before that came up?”
“I don’t know.” He presses his palms to his forehead. “All I know is that I want to be with you, but that’s no excuse for what I did. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you we were supposed to leave, but I’ve been thinking about it, and if we leave tomorrow, we can try to rescue her during the games. Elder clan always has theirs the day after Eventide.”
“Tomorrow?”
“We’ll set out early in the morning. It’s not as good of a plan as sneaking in during the feast, and we’ll have to hope that they leave Celeste inside during the games, because if they don’t . . . Well, it doesn’t matter—it’s our best bet at this point.”
He wants to leave in the morning. As in, tomorrow morning.
That means we’ve only got one more day together. It means tonight’s the last night I’ll get to sleep next to him in his bed. It means that a couple days from now, I won’t wake up beside him. We won’t have meals together, or talk about the books we’ve read, or talk a
bout anything. Because after we rescue Celeste, we’ll go our separate ways, and I’ll never see him again. I’ll never hear his voice, or kiss him, or feel his warmth.
And suddenly saying good-bye feels very, very real. Something in me breaks, and my eyes water, and a bitter taste builds up in my mouth as I start to cry.
Amelrik puts his arms around me, and I press my face into his shoulder. He holds me tighter and kisses the top of my head. And I get why it was so hard for him to tell me it was time to leave. It doesn’t make it right, but I get why he couldn’t do it.
“Virginia.” There are tears in his voice. “About what you said earlier. About what you thought I was going to say.”
“We don’t have to talk about it.” Maybe I don’t want to know how he feels. Because either way—good or bad—I think I’m going to completely lose it.
“I want to. No, I have to, because I—”
A loud rumbling interrupts him. It shakes the walls, and for a second I think it’s an earthquake. But it stops too quickly for that.
Amelrik’s face goes pale. He doesn’t finish what he was about to say. He looks toward the door flap instead, deciding something. “Virginia—”
“I’m not staying here. My whole life, whenever there’s trouble, someone tells me to stay put, like I’m completely useless.”
“You’re not useless, and I’m not leaving you here.”
Oh. “What’s happening?” My voice is a whisper, as if it’s a secret that something awful might be going on.
“I don’t know,” he says, taking my hand, “but it can’t be anything good.”
35
BLOOD DEBT
The noise is coming from the Grand Hall, which is where the feast is taking place. And I don’t just mean the rumbling, but a lot of screaming and shouting. It’s muffled by all the stone walls, so that I can’t even tell which language it’s in, let alone what anyone’s saying. But I think it’s a pretty safe bet to assume that they’re not happy.
When we get there, it’s obvious why. There are about a dozen purple dragons in the room, crashing the feast. The dragons from Hawthorne clan are seated around giant stone slabs that serve as tables. One of the tables has been smashed with a boulder.
The leader of the purple dragons—the one I’m certain is Lothar, even if I still can’t recognize dragons very well—shouts orders at the rest of them. He’s holding what looks like a big metal lantern, or maybe a cage, except that it’s got metal plating all over it, hiding whatever’s inside. He sets it down on the king’s table, keeping one clawed, scaly hand on top of it protectively while he says something threatening to Amelrik’s father.
At least, I’m assuming it’s threatening. Because it’s not like he’s come here and crashed their feast and busted up one of their tables as a gesture of goodwill. Plus, even if I can’t understand what he’s saying, it sounds pretty threatening.
Amelrik’s listening intently, his breathing shallow. I kind of want to ask him what’s going on, but I also kind of don’t, and then Lothar twists the lantern-cage thing a little, and I don’t care what he’s saying, because on one side of the cage is an open panel. Just big enough for whoever’s inside to look out. And of course there’s someone in it. Our eyes meet, and even though I can’t see much of her face, and even though she’s kind of far away, I know it’s Celeste. I think I’d know her anywhere.
All the dragons must know who and what she is, too, because a lot of them are giving the cage wary looks. Lothar must be using her as a threat. Or maybe a weapon.
I nudge Amelrik, trying to get his attention, but he’s too busy watching the argument play out between his father and Lothar. “Amelrik, the cage thingy, it’s—”
Lothar suddenly snarls and shouts something at the king. His voice echoes through the chamber, so loud it hurts my ears.
Amelrik grabs my arm and pulls us both behind an outcropping in the rock wall. “He knows.”
“He knows what?”
“Lothar knows that I’m here.”
“He can’t know that. He’s bluffing.”
“No, he figured it out. He told my father I’m still alive, that Hawthorne clan still owes Elder clan a blood debt, and when my father didn’t seem surprised to hear that about me, Lothar put two and two together. He knew I must have come here, and now he’s demanding that they give me up.” He wraps his arms around himself and leans his head back against the wall, letting it hit the stone with a thump. “They’re here because of me.”
“They didn’t even know you were here. And his father’s the one who let you go.”
Amelrik’s shaking his head. “They’re demanding a blood debt for Raban’s death.”
“It was an accident, wasn’t it?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Lothar’s known you were still alive for over a month. He didn’t come here, on one of your biggest holidays, to settle a debt. He came to make trouble.”
“Obviously, but—”
“He brought Celeste.”
Amelrik glances over his shoulder, in the direction of Lothar and the cage, even though we can’t see them from here. “You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. I only saw her for a second, but I know it was her. Besides, who else would it be?”
He pauses, thinking that over. “You’re going to go get her.” It’s a statement, not a question, like he knows there’s no way I’m not.
Even if the thought of going over there and trying to steal her out from under Lothar’s nose is completely terrifying. “Yeah, but . . . how?”
“Lothar won’t be looking. I’ll make sure of that. He’ll be distracted, and when that happens, get over there as fast as you can. I don’t know how much time you’ll have.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I already screwed this up once. I’m not costing you another chance to save her. So just trust me on this.”
“Amelrik, no. Whatever you’re planning, you can’t—”
“I made a promise to you, and I can’t break it a second time. And I can’t let them come here and cause trouble because of me. I can’t let someone else die in my place. So . . .” He trails off, not having anything left to say, I guess. And before I can tell him again not to do it—before I can get in front of him and try to block his path—before I can do anything, really, he darts out from our hiding place.
Maybe no one would notice him if that’s all he did, but he’s shouting at Lothar. His voice isn’t as loud as everyone else’s, since they’re all in dragon form, but he must get Lothar’s attention anyway, because everything gets quiet all of a sudden.
Then chaos erupts, and there are a lot of voices, talking all at once. This is my chance. This is the diversion he bought me. I creep out from behind the rock, not nearly as confident about it as he was. Even though I’m pretty sure he’s going to get himself killed.
But I can’t think like that right now, even if it might be true.
“Come on!” Amelrik shouts. Not at me, but at Lothar. “I’m what you came here for, aren’t I?”
Lothar snarls and lunges across the room. Amelrik’s father shouts something.
I force myself to move, because otherwise I’d just stand here, watching, unable to breathe. I run along the edge of the cavern walls, trying to stay away from any lashing tails or stomping feet. When I glance over at the king’s table, I almost have a heart attack because Celeste’s cage is gone. But when I get a little closer, I see that it’s just been moved. It’s on the ground now, behind the table, in care of one of Lothar’s friends. Whoever he is, he’s paying more attention to the drama going on between Lothar and Amelrik than he is to the cage.
I creep up to the open panel.
Celeste gasps when she sees me. She presses her face to the opening, her eyes wide. “Vee?” she whispers, keeping her voice low.
“It’s me.” Tears prickle at my eyes, because maybe a small part of me—just a teeny, tiny bit—was worried it wouldn’t be her somehow. T
hat just when I thought I’d found her, it would all turn out to be a lie. Or that maybe I’d hallucinated the whole thing, because I wanted it to be her so badly, and the cage would just be empty.
“It can’t be you. You’re . . . you’re outside of the barracks.” She blinks at me, like me standing right in front of her isn’t enough proof. “What are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you. I thought that was pretty obvious.” I peer at the cage, looking for the mechanism to open it.
“No, what are you doing here? Did you get captured? Did they hurt you?” Her face gets all worried, even though it should be the other way around—she’s the one who’s been kidnapped for weeks.
“I’m fine.” I glance across the room at where Amelrik is, but I can’t see him. My heart speeds up. But Lothar’s still talking, and surely if Amelrik had . . . if something had happened, the crowd would have reacted. They wouldn’t just watch their prince get killed and not even blink, would they?
Celeste’s eyes dart back and forth. “If you weren’t captured, how did you get here?”
“Does it matter?” I fumble with the lock. It’s not as simple as what would be on an actual birdcage—I guess so Celeste couldn’t just stick her hand out the panel and unhook it—but I think I’ve figured it out. I have to press down on one spot while lifting the latch at the same time.
“How did Prince Amelrik get out of our dungeon, Vee?”
I flinch at her implied accusation, even though it’s true. My hand slips along the part of the cage where I was pressing in, so that the latch sticks as I try to pull it open. “He’s helping me. Us. He’s probably getting himself killed right now, and you—”
“You let him go?! What the hell were you thinking?!”
“Celeste,” I hiss, motioning for her to shut up. And why does she have to jump to conclusions like that? Just because she’s right doesn’t mean it’s not crazy.
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