But our encounter was fleeting today, as they often are, and I was unable to convince him that Father is on our side. The only one Batu rivals in suspicions is Father himself.
Now back home in the fading light, I scour my fairy tales and other books of Father’s for details about rock dragons. While Batu answers most of my questions, an unbiased opinion might shed greater light on the mystery he poses. What I’ve uncovered thus far is pitiful. They prefer rocky places. They’re loners. And they’re presumed extinct.
When I tire of reading I collect my books and head for the tower. Soon it will be time for me to return to Bryre. I will see Ren again. Warm is the word that makes me think of him. It fills me up inside until I’m so full I swear I could overflow. Between Batu and Ren and Father, I almost feel like I have a whole family.
But Father would not approve. Meeting Ren every night is very bad. Leaving the safety of our cottage to seek a creature whose existence I have hidden from Father is even worse.
The worst part is I know, without question, I will do both things again. Father cannot force me to remain alone forever.
That first night with Ren, I forgot all about the child I’d killed. By the time I reached the prison, my melancholy returned in full force. I took the girl with the pinkest possible cheeks. But each night since, I’ve found Ren waiting with a rose at the fountain after he has delivered his messages, charming me more with every meeting.
Ren’s most recent note said Rumors of a beast in the streets. Return D to first position. Father’s brow clouded over when he heard this and I detected a hint of disappointment in his expression. I fear what they mean by a beast. That they mean me. Could the man I stung on the road during my training remember me? Could he have seen more than I thought?
Most of all, I fear what Ren would think if he could see my many and varied parts. Would he hate me as Father suggests? My wings and tail, and the shades of my skin, are an invisible wall standing between us.
When I reach the lower level of the tower, faint sounds of crying curl down the spiral staircase. I wish I could comfort the two girls upstairs, but my presence always upsets them more than anything. Father asked me to stay away, except to give them their nightly dose of venom.
Even though their cries pinch my heart, I obey him. I must obey him about something. Between Batu and Ren, I am toeing a very fine line.
I set down the books and take the watering can into my garden to care for my roses. The reds and yellows flame in the dying light. I caress a few of the petals and coo at them. I know they appreciate the attention; they get bigger and lovelier every day.
When I catch my thumb on a thorn, the monster briar patch Ren showed me comes to mind. Strange that a plant would take over so fast. I wonder if Father has any idea about the briar or why the wizard sent it.
The sound of feet crunching over branches and leaves alerts me to Father’s approach through the hedge. I run, throwing my arms around him as he enters the yard.
“Oh! My dear girl!” He hugs me back. “What have I done to deserve such a welcome?”
“I missed you.” It is true. I find I do not like being alone if I can avoid it.
Balancing my duty to Father and our mission with my need to be near Ren becomes trickier every day.
I lead him into the house. He hangs his traveling cloak on the wall hook and rests on the chair by the fire. Pippa yaps over and over until he lets her land on his lap and rubs between her ears.
I remain standing, a question on the tip of my tongue.
“Did you want something, Kymera?”
I take that as an invitation to sit next to him. “I came across something odd when I was in Bryre the other day. I thought you might be able to explain it.”
He waits for me to continue. Pippa glares at me from under Father’s arm.
“I stumbled over the most bizarre plant. It reminds me of my roses, but it is . . . more . . . fearsome? The thorns are black and plentiful and there are vines winding around all of it. The blossoms made me think of my roses, though. It appeared to be eating the palace and the entire neighborhood that lies behind it! Have you ever heard of such a thing?”
A flicker of concern crosses Father’s face, then a frown. “It sounds like a rather aggressive briar patch. Perhaps the city folk have been leaving their waste for it to consume. That would explain the overgrowth.” A smile tugs at his lips. “Though I am sure you must be exaggerating a little about the palace.”
“No, not at all! It has eaten an entire street! It must be the wizard’s doing.”
Father frowns deeper. “The night is well known for playing tricks on people’s eyes, even those with eyes as sharp as yours. Besides, what would the wizard do with a plant? And why would he waste time with it when he already keeps himself busy torturing Bryre’s girls? It does not make a whit of sense.”
“But I have seen it with my own eyes. It is real, I swear it.”
“My dear, I do not doubt that is what you think you saw. But I am certain you are mistaken.”
How can he not believe me when I am his eyes and ears in Bryre? “But Father, I—”
“No, enough. You are only to worry about the girls. Leave Bryre’s flora and fauna alone, however strange. You must not stray from your mission.” He pats my shoulder and smiles, a bit sadly I think, as he rises from his chair.
I smile back, but I thrum inside. I am not exaggerating. A few more months and it will swallow the palace whole.
But soon Father places his cool palm on my cheek, and my worries fade into mist.
Of course, Father is right. Rescuing the girls comes above all else. Father is always right.
A gnawing ache fills my innards as I wait by the fountain. Father would be furious if he knew what I was doing. But when Ren’s baking-bread smell wafts over me, I forget everything else.
I wheel around, grinning from ear to ear. Ren grins back and grabs my hand. The feeling of his skin on mine makes me shiver pleasantly. A wash of red spreads from my fingers to my temples. Something about him is oddly familiar and yet so foreign at the same time.
“Come,” he says. “I have something special to show you tonight.”
He pulls me through alley after alley and it does not take me long to realize where we are going.
The palace.
When we arrive in view of the gates, I am breathless and gape up at the intricate scrollwork. I never took the time to examine the gates before. I was too concerned with following Ren and seeing the gardens beyond. Even deserted, the palace is beautiful. Ren signals me to remain quiet as he leads me to his secret entrance. I feign as much surprise as I can when the wall opens to reveal the passage, and I purposely stumble as though I don’t know the way by heart.
The roses and hedges are just as impressive as they are each night. Exquisite. Breathtaking. Gorgeous. A hundred words fill my brain at the sight of them. Ren weaves between the giant hedge monsters, careful to stay out of the line of sight of the guards in the guardhouse. He stops in the corner of the garden, where a blanket has been set up on the grass encircled by rosebushes and tall hedges. There is a basket with bread and cheese and sausage for us.
“Do you like it?” he asks, sneaking me a shy, hopeful glance. I realize with a jolt that his skin is as red as mine. It makes me blush harder.
I inhale the scent of the roses and the cool night air. It’s perfect.
“I love it,” I say.
He sits on the blanket and pats the spot next to him. “Come sit,” he says. “Are you hungry?”
I was nervous about meeting Ren again and only ate a little of the stew Father made for dinner. The cheese and sausages smell divine. I sit, tucking my legs under my skirt along with my tail, careful not to let my cloak come loose. That would be disastrous.
He hands me a hunk of cheese and takes one for himself.
“Where did you live before Bryre?” Ren asks.
I fumble with the cheese. I was not prepared for this.
“The forest?�
� I cannot admit I really am from Bryre. That would reveal too much and spur an avalanche of unanswerable questions.
Ren laughs. “But where in the forest?”
“I am not sure. Just not here. We only came to live in this forest recently.”
“You switched one forest for another?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Something like that,” I say, forcing a smile. Ren is close enough that his breath whispers over my face when he speaks, making every nerve in my body flare. I fight the urge to reclaim his hand. It is too easy to be here with him. I must think of Father and my mission.
Yet here I stay, planted next to Ren on the blanket.
“Have you always lived in Bryre?” I ask, desperate to direct the conversation away from myself.
“Yes, I live on the edge of the city with my parents. My father is the king’s steward and I’m his page boy.” He leans closer. “That’s how I know all the ins and outs of the palace.”
“Where is everyone? Won’t the king and queen be angry we are trespassing?”
Ren shakes his head. “Can you keep another secret, Kym? A big one?”
“Of course,” I say.
“Bryre is plagued by a wizard.”
“A wizard?” I know enough to understand I should be surprised at this revelation, even if the expectation was not written all over Ren’s face.
He chews his lip. “I hope that doesn’t make you think twice about staying here. He really doesn’t bother us too much.”
I dig my nails into my palms to stop myself from gasping out loud. The extent to which the wizard bothers Bryre is no small thing. But it warms me to think Ren does not want to scare me off.
I wish I could tell him I am working to outwit the fiend right now. But I stay silent. I will not betray Father, no matter how much I like this boy.
“He must not be a very powerful wizard.”
Ren snorts. “Remember that monster plant I showed you?”
I nod.
“That’s the wizard’s work. We’re not sure how he got it into Bryre, but he sowed those seeds when we weren’t looking, I’m sure of it.” He leans in conspiratorially. “No one lives at the palace anymore, not after that plant devoured a servant. The council insisted the king go into hiding. They’re afraid the wizard will get to him here. The briar patch is just the beginning.” Ren’s hands clench into fists. I don’t like to see him unhappy. I place a tentative hand on his arm. His skin is warm and soft through the fabric of his shirt. He glances up at me and smiles. It is suddenly stifling in my cloak.
“What is it like being the king’s page boy? Is it exciting?” I’m not sure what a page boy does.
He picks a bit of crust off his bread and tosses it in his mouth. “It’s a fine job. The king’s a good man. I’m lucky that way. Not all kings are kind,” he says. “And with the palace empty and the king hidden, well, let’s just say things are more exciting now than they were a couple years ago.”
“How so?”
“For one thing, there was no curfew when I started serving the king.” He stretches his legs and leans back on his elbows. “Now that there is, I have special dispensation to ignore it.” He grins.
“Why is there a curfew?” I already know the answer, but if I were who I claim to be—a girl just moved to Bryre—I would not. And I can’t help but be curious to hear Ren’s version of the story. I wonder if the girl who was once me is in it.
Ren’s face clouds over and I wish I had bitten my tongue instead.
“The wizard steals and murders young girls, but first he makes them sick with an infection curse. I don’t understand why. It just seems so . . . senseless.” He lies back on the blanket and closes his eyes. “Curses are stronger at night and the infection more likely to be passed then. They can’t stop the disease from spreading entirely, but the curfew has slowed it. Just not enough.” The urge to tell him I rescue those girls is nearly overwhelming, but one tricky thing prevents me. I’d have to tell him how.
And that would mean revealing what I am. That I am among those murdered girls. I cannot gauge how he would react to that, let alone to the fact that I am part animal. My strange parts brought me closer to Batu, but I suspect they would not do the same with Ren.
“I am sorry. Were . . . were any of the girls people you knew?”
He nods, but says nothing more.
It only takes a moment for me to decide, but it feels like an eternity. Ren’s chest rises and falls as he breathes. A lock of his brown hair tumbled across his forehead when he lay down, shielding one of his eyes. I should not want to be close to Ren. I should not want to know him.
But I do.
I lie next to him and rest my hand on top of his. His skin is cold, but he does not seem to notice.
Hundreds of stars glitter down on us from the night sky. I wonder what the view is like from up there. How wonderful it must be to see everything. If I could do that, maybe I could see the wizard and stop him before he hurts any more girls. Put an end to this city’s pain. To Ren’s pain.
“When I was little,” Ren says, “my grandfather died. My mama told me his soul had become a star and he’d always watch over us. I like to think those girls got to be stars, too.”
“I like that very much.” If Father had not brought me back to life, would I be a star now? I squeeze Ren’s hand and he turns his head to look at me. My breath falters and I fix my gaze on the sky again.
“I lost my mother to a murderer. It was senseless too.”
Now he squeezes my hand back.
I blink rapidly as my eyes grow warm and wet. The truth of my words hits me full force. I only have my father left. And the dragon who calls me sister. I wonder if Batu’s brothers and sisters are stars now. He grieves like Ren does, I can feel it when the dragon speaks to me in that strange way of his. Will he ever join them? Will I?
I cling to Ren’s hand, unable to answer my own questions and afraid to ask him. One look makes it clear he is troubled enough.
He could not help me anyway. He knows less of me than I do. But after this night and sharing the sky with Ren, I have gained something else.
New memories.
I may not have my mother or the memories of the girl I once was, but I’ll always have the stars.
DAY THIRTY-SIX
FATHER REMAINED AT HOME TODAY, DUE TO EARLY-MORNING SHOWERS, but I itch to escape from the hedge that pens me in. Perched on the top of the tower, I can see fog cloaking the trees. Sunlight pierces through it, setting the entire woods aglow.
I want nothing more than to read my book in a patch of sunlight with the fluffy fog clouds swirling at my feet.
But Father will not like me wandering about aimlessly as I intend. I fly to the ground as a plan takes shape in my head. Pippa nips at my feet just before my toes touch the soil, then follows me into the tower.
She does not, however, follow me into Father’s laboratory. She never goes down there. It is the only thing Father has managed to train her to do. She sits at the top of the stairs and whines at me. I waggle my fingers at her as I descend into the laboratory.
Father is in the corner, fiddling with something in one of the cold boxes. When he hears my footsteps he slams it shut and whirls around, but not before I catch a glimpse of the contents. It almost looked like a child’s hand, but that can’t be right.
“Kym,” he says, “what brings you down here, my dear?” He leaves the cold box behind, clutching a goat leg in one hand for the chicken that lies on the table in the center of the room. I frown. I must have seen wrong.
He wipes his hands on a nearby rag and looks at me expectantly.
“Father, I wish to have fish for dinner.”
He chuckles and returns to the chicken with one leg yet to be affixed. “Do you now?”
“Yes, and I wish to catch it myself. May I go to the river?”
He raises a silver eyebrow. “Kym, the river is no short distance away. And it is daylight. What if a traveler saw you?”
“I would
do just as you taught me: sting him and flee.”
“Still, I do not like having you out during the day. You never know who may be about.”
“Please?” I blink, setting my blue eyes into place, then batting my eyelashes with my hands clasped neatly in front of me. He sighs.
“No, Kymera. It is too dangerous. But I will offer you a compromise because I confess I would not mind fish for supper either.” He takes a bottle off the shelf and continues his work. “I am almost out of some ingredients. I need to go to a market this afternoon, and I will bring home a nice fish or two for us.”
I cannot hide my disappointment. “Do you not trust me to go out on my own, Father?”
“You, I trust. It is everyone else I worry about.” He sets the bottle down and comes over to hug me instead. “When the wizard is defeated, you will be able to travel much more freely, I promise. Though you will still have to be cautious around the humans.”
“I hope we defeat him soon,” I say, my words muffled in Father’s shoulder. He pats my wings.
“Me too, my dear, me too.”
With a heavy heart, I fly out of the tower basement, scaring Pippa away from the edge of the stairs. “Go away,” I say. She whines and flies alongside me all the way to the garden, despite my orders. I sigh and scratch her behind the ears. To my surprise, she lets me.
“I bet you want to go to the river, too, don’t you?” I ask her, but she makes no reply.
As I prune my roses, my mind spins with strange ideas. What did I see in the laboratory? What could Father possibly be keeping in there? Gradually, a new plan sprouts. It is a wicked idea, but so tempting that I do not think I can pass it up. I will have my afternoon out yet, but I must satisfy my curiosity first.
By the time the roses are pruned and watered, Father leaves his tower, cloak in hand. “I shall not be gone too long,” he says, waving. “There is a market just an hour’s walk from here today. I shall be back in time to cook the fish for dinner.”
I smile and wave in response, waiting patiently until his honey-sweet scent has faded and I am certain he is deep in the woods proper.
I fly to the tower, and when I try to open it, I find it locked. At first my stomach sinks; but of course Father locked it. We do not want any of the girls to wake up and escape. That would be disastrous. I pick the lock with my claws and let myself into the hall.
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