“No,” I say.
He stares, shocked. “What do you mean, no? We can’t just let him take her!”
“I won’t,” I say. “I need you and Greta to get the girls home safely. Guards may be coming after us. The girls need protection. And Barnabas might be in these woods, too, on his way to Belladoma.”
Both Ren and Greta turn several shades paler at the mention of the wizard’s name.
“What can we do against him?” Greta whispers.
“Evade him. Do not let him see or hear you. Keep the girls quiet and move as swiftly as you can. Do not light a fire; just eat the bread, cheese, and jerky in the supply bags.”
Ren and Greta exchange a brave look, then nod.
“Good. I’ll hunt Darrell down and get her back.” Greta’s lip trembles and I place my hand on her shoulder. “I promise I’ll do everything I can.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
I run to the forest, but glance back at the girls. Their faces are filled with desperate hope. I can’t fail them again. We’re too close to Bryre and freedom.
“Don’t stop until you’re inside the city gates,” I say. “I’ll follow with Emmy as soon as I am able.”
I track Darrell until dusk settles in the mountains, the waning light covering everything with odd colors. Strange shadows loom at every corner and I switch to my cat’s irises. The forest becomes clear—as does Darrell’s trail. The broken brush, hoof prints, and ruts carved in the forest floor show he’s dragging poor little Emmy in his cart. He must have bartered for a new horse. It’s the only way he could have gotten ahead of me.
Emmy must be terrified. Was I terrified when Barnabas first took me? Did I know I was going to die? Or was I already dead before he brought me anywhere? I search my memories, but this one remains locked away.
I wish I could force it to the surface, even though it will be painful to bear. I need to know the girl I was.
I stiffen. Darrell’s scent is stronger here. So is Emmy’s. They’re close. A scan of the forest reveals no other sign of them. I flutter between the huge trees, not wanting to be taken unawares again.
Fire crackles nearby. I must go higher. I leap into the nearest tree and scramble as high as I can and still have an unobstructed view of the forest floor.
About forty paces to my left is a depression in the forest, masked by an outcropping of craggy rock. Part of Darrell’s cart peeks out from beneath the outcropping.
I alight on the ground, then fly to the top of the rocks. I flatten myself on the cold, hard surface. I can see over, but my cloak should conceal me from Darrell in the gathering darkness. Even with the fire.
He rests just beneath my hiding place. Emmy sits next to him, tied to a wooden chair that was once inside the cart. She’s frighteningly still and pale.
I hate this man. He must be stopped. By any means possible.
With my claws at the ready and tail tense, I swoop down.
Emmy screeches. Darrell gasps as I pin him down. He laughs, and the flame of rage in me explodes into a bonfire. Furious instinct takes control. My body acts of its own accord, until that horrid smile is gone from his face.
The frenzy slips out of me like a ghost into thin air.
I whirl. “Emmy!” Her chair tipped over in the struggle. She doesn’t move. I shake her, but stop when I realize how limp she is. Blood seeps through the front of her dress.
How can she be dead? She was fine a moment ago when I attacked Darrell—
A blade is embedded in her back.
Leaden numbness spreads through my legs. I gently move Emmy and examine the chair. A rope extends from the back, leading to Darrell’s mangled body. It’s sliced off now, but it was tied to him once. The smallest crossbow I’ve ever seen is secured to the frame of the chair.
It must have been set with the blade now sticking out of Emmy’s back. The trigger was tied to Darrell. One flick of his wrist and she was dead.
My attack caused more than a mere flicking.
Grief hollows out my insides.
Flashes come fast and furious, wrenching me down to my knees.
Father—my real one, Oliver—calling my name, Rosabel, Rosabel, over and over.
A woman screaming, crying, cloth ripping.
Silence.
Barnabas looms above, and the once-me chokes. His hands squeeze my throat. I gasp, kick, scratch. His wretched smile freezes the breath in my lungs. Then darkness and ice.
Barnabas—the man I loved as a father—killed me with his bare hands. His awful, taunting eyes were the last thing the once-me, Rosabel, saw.
He lied to me. I was not collateral damage.
This is all my fault. Emmy is dead because I wanted Darrell to pay for his role in Barnabas’s scheme. I gave in to revenge. Just like Barnabas. Had I stopped to consider a better way to rescue her, she might still be alive.
All she wanted was to see her mother. I failed her.
Her unseeing eyes stare up at me, more in confusion than accusation. I close them gently, my own tears springing forth as I cradle her small, limp body in my lap.
She’ll never look on her mother again.
DAY SEVENTY-TWO
I WANDERED THROUGH THE FOREST ALL NIGHT, TRAILING THE PATH OF the moon and now the sun. I carry Emmy, bundled in an old cloak I found in Darrell’s cart. The heaviness in my chest and the dull needling in my head plague me as I flutter between the trees. For a time I flew over the forest, but I am unaccustomed to flying long distances and now walk to rest my wings.
Spears of sunlight dash through the trees, striking my eyes every few steps. It must be midmorning by now. I’ve been creeping through the mountains for hours. My feet and wings ache. I must rest for a few minutes. I’m deep in the mountain range, no road in sight. Only trees, moss, and rock surround me.
An outcropping lies ahead, and I hike toward it. I set Emmy’s wrapped-up form in the shade of trees, then clamber onto the top of the rock and lie down. The sun peeks through the foliage, but all I feel is cold. Every time I close my eyes all I see is Emmy’s pale, unmoving face.
But when I realize the rock beneath me is warm and it wriggles under my weight, I roll off.
“Batu?” I ask the mass of glittering granite scales, unfurling into a giant beast. I had not expected him to find me so far from our appointed spot by the river.
Sister. I was worried about you. His large yellow eyes look down on me with concerned affection.
Relief floods through me like a cooling balm, an emotion shared between us. “I was worried about you, too. When the city folk burned the forest, I wasn’t sure you got out. And with the wizard on the loose . . .”
Batu huffs. I wondered the same about you.
Happiness trills over me as the dragon’s emotions whisper in my head. I place a hand on his scaly snout. My heart is so full at seeing my dragon brother. “I missed you.”
Batu leans into my palm. I missed you, too, sister. Do not worry about me. When the wizard wanders the countryside, I hide. He has been out more than usual.
“He may be out now,” I say, remembering the courtier’s words. “He was on the road to Belladoma just a few days ago. You must be careful.”
As should you.
I can’t help agreeing.
“I must apologize. I pleaded with you so many times to release me from the blood oath, so I could tell my false father about you.” It grows harder to breathe with every word. “You were right; keeping you a secret was the only way to keep you safe. If you had released me, I would have led the wizard right to you.”
The unpleasant taste of shame sours in my mouth.
Batu bobs his head at me, as if he’s nodding. You understand.
Then an odd thing happens. A weight lifts from my chest, my skin tingles for a moment, and suddenly it’s gone.
“Did you just . . . ?”
I have released you from your oath. It is unnecessary now.
I squeeze Batu’s snout. “Thank you, but I don’t think that i
s necessary either. My only interest is in keeping us—you, me, and Bryre—safe.”
We would be safer if we hid together, sister.
My heart pinches. Hiding away with Batu, forgetting all these troubles with Bryre, is tempting. The girls are on their way home, after all.
Except for one problem: Barnabas. Who will protect Bryre if I abandon them?
“I wish so much that I could. But I have to stop Barnabas. Permanently.”
Batu snorts. That will not be an easy task.
I hold my breath. “Will you help me? Together we could defeat him. I cannot do it alone.”
A shot of dank, warm air blows over me.
My survival depends on outliving the wizard. And that is what I intend to do. I will live as I am now. In my homes, by the rivers and the mountains. Join me. My nest is empty without my clan.
Despair pools in my chest. “We have little chance against him without your help. I’ve heard what they say, that the one who kills a wizard will be burned up by his magic. Only another wizard or one made from magic can absorb it and survive.”
Batu’s yellow eyes consider me. Are you not a magic creature? he muses. Killing wizards is dangerous business, but you may have more of a chance than you think. Still, I wish you would not risk it at all.
I stare at my multicolored flesh. I had not thought of myself that way before. “I may be stronger than a human, but not like you. There cannot be much magic holding me together. I may thwart him for a time, but without you, Bryre will always be at risk of another attack. We could free so many people who live in fear of him. And then we could live wherever and however we want.”
The giant granite body settles back against a tree. Batu sighs another shot of dank air in my direction.
You are so devoted to these humans. Are they truly worth risking everything?
Tears burn the backs of my eyes. I remember the glimmer of mischief in Ren’s face when I first knew him, the kindness in Oliver’s, and the shy hope in those of Delia and the other girls I saved from Belladoma. I think of all the shattered memories of my former life as Rosabel and how I treasure each one.
“Yes,” I whisper, my throat suddenly reduced to a pinhole. “I was human once. I loved the city then, and I love it even more now. I set so many things wrong, and it is my responsibility to make them right. Leaving them to the mercy of the wizard is something I cannot do.”
You know they would not do the same for you?
I nod, choking back a sob at the truth of it. I’m a monster. Perhaps a few in Bryre, like Ren and the girls, may forgive me, but most would not see past my wings or tail.
Batu swings his huge head down to eye level. His metallic scent fills my nostrils. They do not deserve you, sister. If you change your mind, come to the river, and I will keep you safe in my lair.
A rustling in the trees behind me draws my attention away from Batu. A sweet scent, like honey, lingers on the air.
It is not safe here anymore. I must go, and so should you. Farewell.
“Good-bye.” I place my hand on his snout as Batu shimmers and fades, magic tickling my fingers. He is gone too quickly.
The hollowness inside of my chest expands. What if I fail to protect Bryre? What if I never see Batu again? Have I made the wrong choice?
Instinct flares, drowning out my doubts. Something is wrong in this forest. Something that scared away a dragon.
I need to get as far from this place as possible.
I gather up Emmy, and I run until the trees grow thinner and I can spread my wings. I must be close to the road by now.
I halt in my tracks. Voices and footfalls come from the direction I believe the road to be. Many people are traveling through the mountains today.
That is not normal.
As I sneak through the trees, I notice the men walk in a highly regular fashion.
It’s an army. Headed directly to Bryre.
My blood curdles. Who would bring an army to Bryre? And why? King Ensel is dead—I should know, I killed him.
Barnabas. It must be him.
The uniforms the men wear are just like the ones the guards wear in Belladoma. Barnabas must’ve reached the city and rallied them as soon as Ensel’s murder was discovered. But so quickly? It doesn’t seem possible, yet here they are crawling through the mountains.
Magic. There is no other explanation. The speed at which the troops have overtaken me is unnatural.
I’ll follow them, find out what they’re about, then fly to Bryre to warn King Oliver. My real father. I will not let Bryre be massacred.
I need speed and stealth to warn Bryre before the army reaches them, so I find a place to bury Emmy’s body—a grove filled with wild rosebushes. I think she’d like it, if she could see it. She looks so peaceful as I cover her with the earth, golden curls falling over her face. If not for the dark stain on her dress, she could be sleeping.
I regret that I can’t bring her home. I hope Greta and her family will forgive me.
It is dark when the troops stop to set up camp. I circle the perimeter, staying just out of sight of the guards as I flutter between the trees. I must find the largest tent. The leader will be there. It’s strange how memories return at the oddest moments. I know I’ve seen tents like this before—
The last time Belladoma came to Bryre. Of course. They attacked before I was born and came back again when I was Rosabel.
Perhaps Barnabas couldn’t destroy the memories of the once-me; he only suppressed them. It’s a powerful spell, whatever it is. But I am strong enough to overcome it.
The camp is set in a U shape at the base of a cliff. As I round another clump of trees, I catch a glimpse of a tent in the very center of the U, set near the rock wall of the cliff. It’s bigger than the others and several guards stand at attention outside.
Whoever leads these men is in there. I fly out of the forest straight up the path leading to the cliff. If I can circle around them, I could sneak down the cliff unseen. My cloak is dark enough and they’ve placed no guards atop the cliff. Only a crazy person would try to sneak down from above.
That’s exactly what I plan to do.
I lay my cloak on the ground, spreading it wide. With one claw I cut two foot-long slits in the back panel. My wings need to be free for this to work, but I’ll want the cover, too. I secure the cloak around me, slipping my wings through the holes one at a time, and pull up the hood. My yellow cat’s eyes slide into place. Black wings flap with anticipation. Claws clench. Tail winds.
I’m one with the darkness.
I’m ready.
I leap off the cliff and soar in a silent spiral to the lowest ledge. Shadowed figures move in the tent, but I’m too far away to hear any voices. I don’t dare fly closer. The light of the fires would reveal my presence.
I’ll have to scale the remaining distance of the cliff face.
Swinging my body over the ledge, I use my claws and tail to crawl down the last fifty feet.
Halfway there, voices resonate in the tent and I pause, clinging to sheer rock. They’re almost familiar. My heart pounds as I risk a glance down. I hold my breath for a full minute to ensure no one is leaving and continue my descent. I hit the grass with relief.
I crouch behind the tent, on the small strip of earth between cliff and canvas. I hear them perfectly now and I peek under a flap. I jerk backward, clinging to the rock again, this time out of a desperate need to touch something solid and real.
Because what I just saw can’t be real.
I killed him. I threw King Ensel off a cliff. Yet there he is, plotting inside his tent with Barnabas as though nothing happened. As though he were alive.
How can a dead man come back to life?
Barnabas. That evil wizard!
I was dead and he brought me back to life. Did he do the same with Ensel? Make him into some kind of monster? Or is this another spell that I know nothing about?
“We can take them here, through the back of the castle walls.” Barnabas’s word
s float through the canvas, chilling me to the core.
“What about your spell? It no longer holds?” Ensel asks.
I can hear the smile in Barnabas’s voice. “Oh yes. I found a loophole. A person meaning Bryre harm cannot enter through any gate or go over or under any wall of the city. So I destroyed the wall.”
I have no doubt what he means. The rabid briar patch. It’s been tearing apart the wall behind the palace for months. That’s why Barnabas forbade me to investigate the monster plant.
“Brilliant. You’re certain they’ll be defenseless?” Ensel asks.
“Of course. They do not even patrol that area anymore. The forest is so thick no regular traveler would dare try to approach.”
“Then how will we?” A hint of irritation enters Ensel’s tone.
Barnabas chuckles. “No normal traveler can level an entire forest with one spell either. My elemental magic can force things to grow fast, or slow so much they reverse.”
Ensel cackles. “You intend to ungrow a path through the forest for us?”
“Precisely. I hope to have a new influx of magic soon that will make it easy.”
The sound of a hand clapping a shoulder rings in my buzzing eardrums.
“You’re an excellent ally, Barnabas. Remind me never to cross you. To your health.”
The shadows of two men toasting are cast onto the canvas. Bile threatens to choke me. I take off, straight up the cliff face. I no longer care who sees me. I’ll fly due east to Bryre. No one can follow me that fast, not even on horseback.
This news cannot wait for stealth.
DAY SEVENTY-THREE
AS DAWN APPROACHES, I SOAR CLOSE TO BRYRE, LINGERING OVER THE forest. The place I once wandered through with impunity is more intact than I expected. Whole tracts of land have been burned like scars on the earth, but the people of Bryre managed to save most of it. Perhaps the flames just looked larger and more frightening to me because I was so close to them.
I locate my old crossing point and verify the guards are not near. With satisfaction, I notice Oliver has doubled the guard. I leap to the ramparts and back down into the city in seconds. I run through the streets and alleys, the sun now risen over the walls. I know where to find Oliver.
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