Honorbound

by Chelsea M. Campbell

  Amelrik smirks at me, way too full of himself.

  I ignore him, pretending I don’t care that he might have just saved us.

  The guards get in position to open the gate. My heart pounds, so ready to get out of here.

  Cedric and Leif exchange a look. Then Cedric’s eyes dart over to Amelrik, who glances away.

  The gate slowly creaks open. I will it to move faster. And then…

  Three paladins come marching through it. One of them—the one who looks really tired and drained—is a Strongshield. One of the other two waves at Tom and Harold as they come through. “Great timing. We just finished.”

  “Er… Right,” Tom says. “We heard you coming.”

  The Strongshield dusts his hands off, making a big show of it. “That’s that. The barrier’s up, and now we’ve got a dragon to find.”

  The three of them seem to notice us for the first time. They don’t look too happy about it, probably since we were clearly trying to leave.

  “These folks were hoping to make a wedding,” Harold says.

  “Well, you’ll just have to wait,” one of the paladins tells us. “But don’t worry. It should only be a couple of days.” He shares a knowing smile with the others.

  “A couple of days,” I mutter, a sick feeling spreading through my stomach. “But by then it’ll be too late.”

  10

  I HATE TO IMAGINE WHERE ELSE HE’S GOT SCALES

  I’m still tired in the morning when I get up, but the sun’s shining too brightly through the window of our room at the inn, and I can’t sleep anymore. Amelrik’s already downstairs when I get there, sitting at a table eating breakfast and watching Leif with suspicion.

  “Here,” Amelrik says when I sit down with him. He pushes his plate of sausage and eggs at me.

  “You’re not hungry?”

  “I already ate. This one’s yours. Er, it might be a little cold. I thought you’d be up earlier.”

  But I’m so hungry, I don’t care. I start scarfing it down, and he couldn’t have been waiting that long for me, because it’s still kind of warm at least. Definitely not cold. I point my fork at Leif, who’s working behind the counter again. “What’s with the suspicious looks?”

  Leif notices me pointing at him and glares at us.

  My eyes dart down to the table, pretending I wasn’t doing anything, but Amelrik glares right back at him. “Nothing,” he says. “I just don’t trust him. He’s been acting weird since I got here.”

  “Because we’re all trapped here.” And who knows how long it’s been since Leif transformed? He was working last night, and he wasn’t expecting the lockdown.

  Amelrik shakes his head. “It’s not that. He doesn’t look twitchy. He looks… secretive. Like he’s hiding something.”

  Yeah, like maybe that he’s a dragon? “You already know what he’s hiding.”

  He sighs. “Maybe. Or maybe there’s more to it than that.”

  I study Leif and the easy way he interacts with the other customers. It’s not nearly as busy in here as it was last night, but he smiles and makes jokes with the regulars, flirting a little with a group of three women sitting at the bar, who obviously love the attention. But when he thinks no one’s looking… He seems nervous, almost jumpy, and he keeps looking out the window, like he’s expecting someone or waiting for something to happen.

  But I’m not sure it means anything.

  “It could be him,” Amelrik whispers.

  It takes me a second to get what he means, and then my eyes widen. “Him? You really think he’s—”

  “Don’t say it.” Amelrik glances around, making sure no one’s listening. “It’s too dangerous.”

  But I don’t have to say it, because we both know what he means. He thinks Leif might be the one behind the attacks. I wondered the same thing last night, but that was before. “He’s Cedric’s friend. Would your cousin be friends with someone who would do that?”

  He shrugs, a sour look on his face. “Before we came here, I would have said no. Now I don’t know what to think. Cedric’s not… he’s not who I remember.”

  I tilt my head at him, because I find that hard to believe. You don’t squabble like little kids with someone because you don’t know them. “He said he didn’t know who was behind it.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that Leif’s acting weird and I don’t trust him.”

  Leif suddenly throws down the towel he’s holding and takes his apron off. I think for a second that he heard us and is coming over here to tell us what for, but then he shouts at the innkeeper that he’ll be back for his afternoon shift. He darts out from behind the bar, grabs his coat—which I know he doesn’t need—and heads outside like he has somewhere to be. Like he can’t get out of here fast enough.

  “Come on,” Amelrik says, getting up from our table. “Let’s follow him.”

  The words “let’s follow him” send a tingle running down my spine. I feel just like Princess Genevieve in the Princess Mysteries books we both read. Except I’m not a princess and we’re chasing a probably innocent dragon who just doesn’t want to be at work anymore, not a murderer. And Amelrik’s not Prince Liam or Orlando the outlaw, though he is both of those things. A prince and an outlaw, I mean.

  I stuff one last giant bite of eggs into my mouth and hurry after Amelrik, who’s already almost out the door.

  It’s way too cold for me to go outside without my winter gear, but I obviously don’t have time to run back upstairs, either, or else we’ll lose our target. And I am not missing out on this. So, with a guilty glance at the women sitting obliviously at the bar, I grab one of their coats off the rack by the door as we slip outside.

  I tell myself it doesn’t count as stealing because I’m going to bring it back. Even though it’s pink and fuzzy and lined with rabbit fur inside and I never want to take it off. And I’m especially glad to have it when the cold air hits us. Even Amelrik looks surprised by the temperature drop, though it doesn’t faze him.

  “This way,” he says, pointing us in the direction Leif just went.

  We follow him for a few blocks, keeping enough distance to not be too noticeable, but trying to still stay close enough not to lose him. I’m starting to think Amelrik’s suspicions were unfounded when Leif gets a really shifty look, glances over his shoulder to make sure no one’s watching him—ha! He doesn’t see us—and then ducks down a side street.

  Which, when we get there, turns out to be more of an alley. A kind of dark alley, despite all the sunshine.

  But it might just be a shortcut. I mean, I’d need a better reason than that to risk going down it, but I’m also not a dragon, who, in a city of humans, can probably take care of himself.

  We’re watching Leif creep down the alley, waiting to get more distance between us before following him, because it’s not like there’s anywhere to hide in there, and I’m pretty sure he’d notice us if we went after him right now.

  But then a familiar voice shouts, “Vee?!”

  I look over and gape in surprise at my sister. “Celeste?”

  She hugs me, the sunlight streaming through her golden hair. She’s wearing the same perfume our mother used to—rose and lavender. I wonder when she started doing that.

  Leif glances over his shoulder at the commotion, and now he notices us. And he definitely doesn’t want us to know where he’s going, because he takes off running.

  “Damn it,” Amelrik mutters.

  Celeste looks up, like she hadn’t realized he was there. She steps back from me, a scowl on her face.

  Amelrik glares at her. He looks torn between wanting to chase after Leif and wanting to protect me from my sister. Or maybe he’s just afraid to turn his back on her.

  “Go,” I tell him. “I’ll be fine.”

  He hesitates, looking like he wants to say something to that, but then changes his mind and takes off after Leif.

  Celeste’s scowling at me now, like she doesn’t like what she sees.

  I
motion for her to step into the alley with me, away from the passersby on the street. “What are you doing here?” I can’t help how that sounds—like I’m not glad to see her, even though I am. Well, sort of.

  “I could ask you the same thing.” She puts a hand to her sword hilt, gazing off in the direction Amelrik and Leif went, though she only knows one of them’s a dragon.

  “We were passing through,” I tell her, because it seems like the safest answer. After all, I can’t exactly tell her we’re here visiting Amelrik’s cousin. Not without giving Cedric away, and the less dragons my sister knows about, the better.

  “Same here,” she says, relaxing a little and letting go of her sword. “I was in the area when I got an invitation from Warwick St. George to join the paladins on their hunt. Warwick St. George.” Her eyes light up.

  I shake my head, indicating I have no idea who that is.

  She frowns at me. “The man’s a legend. It’s a huge honor to be working with him. And Joanna Carver. We’re going to catch the dragon that did this. We’re—” She suddenly stops, realization washing over her. She glances down the alley, after Amelrik.

  I can’t believe her. “Celeste! It’s not him!”

  She crosses her arms and looks down at me. “How sure are you of that, Vee?”

  “One hundred percent.” I clench my teeth. “He saved your life.”

  She makes a psh sound, dismissing that, as if it was nothing. “He’s still a wanted criminal.”

  True, I guess, but not relevant. “Not for attacking anyone. He wouldn’t—he didn’t—and you can’t tell anyone about him.”

  She hesitates.

  “He’d be killed! Those other paladins would murder him. And I’d be arrested.” I think of that dank cellar the prisoner was chained up in last night and really hope she wouldn’t do that to me. Not that it would even compare to what would happen to Amelrik.

  “You’d be tortured,” Celeste adds, her eyes darting up to mine. Whatever thoughts she had of turning him in seem to fade, but there’s still a troubled look on her face. “My fellow paladins are trusting me. I can’t keep secrets from them.”

  “I’m your sister. And we weren’t even here when the attacks happened! And… and you’ve seen him transform. You know he couldn’t have done this.”

  Her face twists up with disgust and revulsion. “How could I forget?”

  All my muscles are clenched. I try to relax them. “Please, Celeste.”

  She hesitates, then exhales. “Fine, I won’t say anything. Yet. But I hate thinking of you with that creature.” Her mouth curls into a sneer when she says it. She shudders.

  Hurt spikes in my chest, and I’m glad Amelrik wasn’t around to hear that. “Don’t call him that.”

  “But that’s what he is, Vee! He has wings, and claws, and scales. And you share your bed with him. You told me that much before, so don’t try to deny it now.” The thought obviously sickens her, because she looks like she’s going to throw up. “I don’t know how you can stand it, and I hate to imagine where else he’s got scales.”

  I gasp. I could slap her. I really could. “We’re getting married.” I say that just to see the look on her face.

  It doesn’t disappoint. Whatever stupid thing she was going to say next dies on her lips. Her mouth turns down, her whole face a mask of shock. Then her eyes dart to my hand. “Where’s the ring?” She says it like she doesn’t believe me.

  “That’s not how they do it there.” I’d show her my maple seed, but I left it back home for safekeeping, plus it wouldn’t actually mean anything to her. She’d probably just make fun of it.

  “Right.” Total disbelief.

  “What?” I snap.

  She puts a hand on her hip and tilts her head. “He’s a dragon prince. And you don’t seem to have noticed this, but you’re not a dragon princess.”

  “So?” I try to sound like she’s way off base, but I can hear the hurt in my voice. “You don’t know anything about it.”

  She scoffs. “I know dragons don’t marry humans. Or paladins. And princes don’t marry commoners. And I know that he didn’t even give you a ring. Do you have a date set? Tell me what day I should clear on my calendar.”

  I want to punch the smugness right out of her. “You’re not invited.”

  “You don’t have one, do you? Because”—she takes a deep breath—“you’re not really anything to him.”

  I know it’s not true, but hearing her say it still stings. My eyes start to water despite myself. I just really, really hate her right now, and I especially hate that she can still get to me. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because, Vee, it’s about time you stopped playing this silly little game of running off with dragons and came home. You can’t seriously live your life like this. Maybe you can get away with it for a while, but not forever. You’re a paladin. You proved that. Now it’s time you started acting like one.”

  I stand there in disbelief, still stinging from her words. I wish I really had slapped her now, but all the fight’s gone out of me.

  Amelrik comes back—from the main road, not the alley—a little out of breath. “I lost track of—” He stops when he sees me, worry creasing his forehead. His eyes dart from me to Celeste and back again. “Virginia? Are you okay?”

  “It’s nothing,” I tell him, taking his hand and turning away from Celeste. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  11

  YOU’LL NEVER MAKE PRINCESSES OUT OF ROTTEN POTATOES

  We take the long way back so we can check out some of the shops on our way to the inn. Cedric’s sitting at the bar when we get there, making notes in a blank book of parchment with a piece of charcoal. The inn’s mostly empty now—the lull between breakfast and lunch—and the women who were in here earlier are gone. I slip my stolen coat back on the hook where I found it anyway, just in case the owner comes back for it. Like, maybe she’ll think it was there the whole time and she just didn’t notice it.

  Still, I glance around warily when I put it back, afraid someone will see and call me out on it. But there are really only a few customers in here, and none of them seem concerned with the ownership of my—I mean, her—coat.

  But, like, if no one claims it by tomorrow, maybe it could find its way back into my clutches.

  I also look around for Leif, a spike of guilt making my heart beat faster. I mean, there’s a chance he didn’t realize we were following him. He obviously didn’t know we were there until Celeste showed up, and then he’s the one who ran. He might not even know that Amelrik chased after him. And if he does… well, isn’t he the one acting suspicious? He probably won’t confront us about it.

  But it doesn’t look like he’s back yet, anyway.

  Amelrik sits down at the bar, right next to Cedric. I sit on Amelrik’s other side, trying to get a good view of whatever Cedric’s writing as I pass by, but, yet again, it’s all in Vairlin. Maybe I should have brought my pile of language books. If I’d known we were going to be stuck here, maybe I would have.

  “I didn’t say you could sit here,” Cedric says, not looking up from his work.

  I’m pretty sure he’s talking to Amelrik, not me, because it’s not like I did anything to him. We just met last night.

  Amelrik purposely leans closer to him, invading his space. “You don’t own it.”

  Cedric elbows him out of the way. “There’s a whole tavern full of empty chairs. Go sit somewhere else.”

  A waitress makes eye contact with me, raising her eyebrows. I hold up two fingers. “Two hot chocolates, please. Actually, make that three.”

  “I don’t want one,” Cedric says. “Not if Uncle Ulrich is paying for it.”

  “He’s not,” Amelrik says. “He doesn’t even know we’re here.”

  “And two of those are for me,” I tell them. “You guys will have to split the third one.”

  Amelrik rolls his eyes and tells the waitress to make it four.

  Cedric glances up from his writing, then bac
k down. “I like mine with extra vanilla. And I still didn’t say you could sit here.”

  Amelrik drums his fingers against the wooden counter. “How well do you know Leif?”

  Cedric freezes, his piece of charcoal poised above his book. “Well enough. Why?”

  “He was acting weird earlier, and… It could be him.”

  “What?!” He says that loud enough that the other customers turn to look at him. He lowers his voice, leaning closer, and says, “It’s not. He wouldn’t do that.”

  The waitress brings over our hot chocolates. She sets the one with extra vanilla in front of Cedric, then seems confused about how to divide up the other three and just sort of leaves them on the counter. I pull both of my mugs toward me, even though they’re still too hot to drink. But the warmth feels pretty good on my hands.

  “Well,” Amelrik says, keeping his voice down, “I know it’s not you.”

  Cedric shakes his head. “It’s not him, either.”

  “But—”

  “It’s not.”

  Amelrik sighs, obviously not believing him. “The sooner we figure this out, the sooner we can all get out of here.”

  “What,” I say, my voice teasing, “you don’t think the paladins have it covered?”

  He half snorts, half laughs at that, then turns to Cedric. “If it’s not you and it’s not Leif, then who is it?”

  “I don’t—”

  The door flies open. A man rushes in, out of breath, his face red from running. “There’s been another dragon attack. Patricia Brown, from Denton Street. She was discovered about an hour ago, not far from her home. She’s…” His voice chokes up. “She’s dead. Same as the others.”

  A hush falls over the room. Not that it was loud in here or anything before, since there aren’t that many customers in right now, but it’s still noticeable. A waitress thanks the man who delivered the news. He nods in acknowledgment, then hurries back outside to keep spreading the information.

  My blood runs cold. Denton Street. I pull out the folded up map I have in my pocket, double checking, even though I already know what I’m going to find. “That’s where we were earlier.”