I scratch her between the ears, just like Barnabas used to do. She whines happily, leaning into my hand. “I missed you, too,” I say.
The tub is just big enough to accommodate my tail, wings, and girl’s body. Pippa curls up by the side of it and proceeds to snore up a fearsome storm. I pop the bubbles with my barbed tail as I let the warmth work its way into my sore muscles and feathers and scales.
We’re safe. For now.
DAY SEVENTY-FIVE
I PACE THE GUEST ROOM IN REN’S HOUSE, WAITING TO BE CALLED FOR breakfast and meet with the king. Pippa paces with me, hovering a foot off the ground. I woke with the sun, and the later the hour gets, the more impatient I become. The king has been so kind to me. I’ve decided to tell him everything.
That I’m his daughter.
That Barnabas made me from her parts and the parts of the other girls, too.
That I’m monstrous. A killer, a beast.
Then I’ll beg his forgiveness.
I don’t know where I’ll go after that. I could share Batu’s cave, but Barnabas is loose and that makes me uneasy. The only home I remember is with that evil man. The cottage in the woods with goat-chickens that was burned to ash by the city folk. I don’t belong in Bryre, however much I may want to stay here.
When I smell porridge cooking over the fire, I fly through the door and down the hallway. Laura is there, but no one else.
“Where is everyone?”
“They went to the palace,” Laura says, stirring. “The king decided the council is wrong. He won’t hide anymore.”
“Already? Wait, Ren is awake?”
Laura smiles. “Yes, and well enough to walk, too.”
I fly out the door before I hear another word. I don’t bother with the palace gates but land on the marble steps. I try to compose myself, but I’m too excited. Ren is fine. He’s awake and walking and talking and—
And probably still disgusted by me, too.
More people than I’ve ever seen here mill around the palace and grounds. They crowd the hallway, buzzing with chatter, waiting for something. I push through in spite of their gasps and protests, while loud whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire. The guards at the entrance to the throne room part when they see me.
It’s just as I saw in my visions. Sunlight on silver, everything glowing with glorious light.
Oliver sits on his throne with Delia on a low bench beside him, while Ren and his father stand a little ways behind them. I kneel before the king. A hush falls over the crowd at my back. The weight of hundreds of gazes presses into my wings.
“Kymera, I hoped you’d come this morning.”
“What is all this, sire? I thought the palace was closed.” I whisper. I had not anticipated the audience, and its presence threatens my resolve to confess everything. But I must.
Oliver waves a hand. “I felt it would be best to address my people’s grievances today. It’s been a hard year for us all and I’ve been away far too long. Now what can I do for you?”
“I must ask your forgiveness.” The tips of my ears burn as a low murmur rolls through the gathered people.
“Whatever for?”
“For everything I’ve done, everything I am.” I twist a wayward thread on my skirt around my finger, uncertain where to start. “I helped Barnabas steal the girls and send them to Belladoma. He tricked me. He told me we stole them from the wizard and sent them somewhere safe, but I should’ve known better. I just—I couldn’t tell what was true.” My hands clench in frustration; I’m already making a mess of this. And publicly, too.
“I know, Kymera. Ren told me. He was quite angry with you for a time, though I believe he’s coming around.”
Ren stares at the marble floor, while a hint of red creeps up his neck. Could that be true? Could he have forgiven me? That’s more than I dared to hope. But I must confess everything.
“You know I killed Darrell the trader, but what you don’t know is that Emmy died because of that. He had her tied to a chair rigged to stab her in the back. When I attacked him, it set it off.” Sweet little Emmy, who only wanted to see her mother and father again, and I couldn’t save her.
A murmur runs through the crowd, and it turns my stomach.
“There’s more. I also accidentally killed one of the girls. She wasn’t strong enough to withstand the venom of my barb. It’s only supposed to put people to sleep.” Tears slip from my eyes, as I remember her still form in the cold box in the lab and my horror at seeing her body in the city. “I’m a monster.”
“I know.”
My pulse quickens. My mouth is waxy and dry. The crowd is dead silent, like they are all holding their breath. This next part I’m certain Oliver doesn’t know.
“I . . . I was your daughter.”
The room goes perfectly still. Oliver’s advisers, huddled in one corner at a long table, gape in my direction.
He reaches for my hand. “I know that, too.”
I gasp. “But . . . but . . . how?”
A spark flares in his eyes. “Because I know Barnabas. What better way to punish me than by transforming my firstborn into a monster and using her against me? He’s deranged and it’s just the sort of thing he would do. I suspected the first time I met you. You had such a vague past and your eyes were—are—so familiar.” His face softens and he squeezes my hand. “What he did to you, it is not your fault. You were Bryre’s princess and my daughter, and owe no one an apology for that madman’s crimes.”
The murmurs return and swell into an outright rumble. My entire body is aflame with embarrassment. I should have waited until tonight and spoken to Oliver privately. Here I’m only providing fodder for the gossip mongers, though it’s much too late to turn back.
“I’m sorry for everything I did. If I could take it all back, I would.”
Oliver straightens up. “One thing in all this struck a chord with me. In everything you did, you were motivated by a desire to help others. To protect Bryre and its people.”
My mouth drops open.
“Granted, you were gravely misguided, but your intentions were pure. That’s why I want to make you an offer.”
My gaze snaps up to meet Oliver’s. “What do you mean?” The rumbling audience grows louder.
He leans forward and whispers in my ear. “I know you don’t have a home here in the city. I imagine you’re feeling rather alone now, are you not?”
I bow my head, not sure what to say.
“You were my Rosabel once. I’d like to fix that.” He leans back and speaks louder, his eyes shining more than they did before. “Kymera, will you accept the title of City Guardian and swear to protect Bryre and its occupants as long as you live?”
I don’t have to hide. I can help, and I won’t have to conceal what I am. I stand, wings flapping and tail twitching.
“Yes.”
To my shock, this is met with cheers and applause. I whirl around, staring at the people gathered in the room. They are . . . smiling. Clapping. Gone are the fearful stolen glances. Replaced by something else—could it be pride? Could these people possibly want me to remain in the city? Happiness blooms under my ribs, the pressure bringing tears to my eyes.
“Then it is so.” Oliver turns me back around to kiss my hand. He whispers, “Go. Enjoy the beauty of a late-summer day while it lasts. We will make plans to defend Bryre again soon enough.”
“Kym,” Ren places his hand on my shoulder, this time without flinching. It’s the first time he’s been able to do that since he discovered what I did. It warms me and I cling to that euphoric feeling. “You belong with us. My family, and your family,” he says. Delia grins at me from over his shoulder, actually meeting my eyes this time. “We all agree. Even my mother. Our home is yours.”
DAY SEVENTY-SIX
ONLY ONE FULL DAY PASSES AFTER ENSEL’S DEFEAT BEFORE KING OLIVER summons me to the palace. That is all the time it took for rumors of the wizard to reach the boiling point. A scout was found wandering in the forest o
nly this morning, disoriented and devoid of all his memories. His wife and daughter are beside themselves because he no longer remembers who they are.
Now that I’m Bryre’s defender, I must find my false father—and a way to destroy him.
My feet tap of their own accord as I wait for the guard to let me into the throne room. I have always loved the city, but for the first time in this life, I finally feel at home here. I can run freely through Bryre. No one hunts me now. No one is allowed to.
I’m astonished at the welcome I’ve received. Even Laura has become less prickly toward me. I could not ask for more.
Yesterday, after I settled into the guest room in Ren’s family’s home, we explored the city in daylight—at last!—but it was marred by the dark cloud of the wizard hanging over us.
Barnabas will come back to finish what he started sooner or later. If the reports are true, it seems he already has.
The city’s guards remain on high alert and have begun repairing the outer wall where the briar plant ate through. The work they do today will be torn down by tomorrow, but at least it should slow the process. My hope is bolstered by the fact that the foundation kept Barnabas out.
King Oliver and Delia have been practically inseparable since she returned. It both pleases and saddens me. Oliver shows me great kindness, but it cannot be easy to feel real affection for a monster.
I’ve peppered Ren with questions about Rosabel. It’s strange to hear about one’s former self and not recall most of it. Some things he says trigger memories, and they are as precious to me as the new ones I make now. Sneaking out to the market through a tunnel in an old broken-down fountain. A thick maze of hedges with a small, secret garden at its heart. Ren and Delia and I stealing sweet rolls fresh out of the oven from the kitchen, then gobbling them down in the alcove beneath the stairs before the cook could catch us.
Barnabas destroyed that. All his frustrations, taken out on poor King Oliver and his family. And on me.
Me, the monster girl made up of the pieces of Bryre’s children. Does a small part of them remain in me like Rosabel and her foggy memories? Who am I really? While I may have begun as Oliver’s daughter, I have since become something else entirely.
I was created to destroy—but I learned how to love instead. Barnabas twisted that love for the city into something wretched and evil, but I overcame that. I rescued the girls, I earned back Ren’s trust, and the respect of the king.
Now the only thing I want to destroy is Barnabas. For Bryre. For all the people who died at the wizard’s hands. I am them, and they are me. And most importantly, for all the people I love who still live.
When the doors open, I rush by the guard before the words “The king will see you now” are even out of his mouth.
I slide to a stop in front of Oliver and kneel at his feet. “My king,” I say. The words cause a thrill to course through me. I have a king, a country, and a real purpose now. I’ll do anything to honor that and keep them safe.
“My dear, there’s no need to stand on formality.” Oliver motions for me to rise and I sit on the stairs by his feet.
“You summoned me because of the guard who lost his memory, yes?” I ask.
Oliver nods. “I did, in part. First there is something I want to show you.” He offers me his arm.
Puzzled, I take it. Oliver leads me into a sector of the palace where I haven’t ventured before, then down into the depths of the building. While some areas of the castle are pristine, many more than I remember are now slowly being eaten away by the briar. It grows steadily colder as we descend. The lack of light doesn’t trouble me with my cat’s eyes, but I marvel that Oliver seems to know it by heart. The walls are a somber gray stone, as is the walkway beneath our feet.
We turn down a long hall that leads to a vast chamber. The walls are honeycombed with alcoves, many of which are half destroyed by long, clinging roots poking out at odd angles and wrapping around the stone columns that hold up the ceiling. These roots are pitch black, reminding me of the Sonzeeki’s tentacles. The monster briar plant is deeply embedded in the city. It will not be easy to get rid of.
Oliver walks directly to a raised dais in the center of the room and suddenly I understand why he knows this path so well.
It is the royal crypt.
His wife—my mother—is in the largest stone box on the dais. I run my hands over the form carved in the lid of the marble grave. Her face with its wide eyes and high cheekbones feels familiar. My skin tingles as a new memory rushes forth, taking over my vision.
A woman with bright gold hair and sparkling blue eyes gazes at me. Her soft hand whispers across my cheek. “I know it is hard for you to stay in the palace. But sometimes queens must make the hard decisions. Someday, when you are queen, you will understand.”
Oliver clears his throat, and the vision slips away. I realize I hover close to her face with my hand resting on her cheek. “Her name was Aria, and she was just as beautiful as the song she was named after,” he says.
I blush. “I’m sorry,” I say. The warmth from the memory trills over me. Warmth, mixed with Rosabel’s frustration and deep love for her mother. No, not just Rosabel’s mother—my mother. In the memory, she wore that blue dress I’ve remembered before.
“Do not be sorry. This is why I brought you here. What Barnabas did to you is abhorrent, but you should know where you came from. Who you really were. I know you do not have many memories left of your mother. Ren told me you cannot see her face in any of them.” His eyes shine. “I am so sorry Barnabas stole that from you too.”
I take his hands. “He didn’t take everything. I remember pieces. Some of you, and Ren, and Delia when she was very young. Someday they might all come back. Even the ones of my mother. In fact, I think this just shook one of her loose. She seems as kind and lovely as I’d hoped.”
Oliver squeezes my hand and smiles. “I am very glad to hear that. If . . . If I can help in any way, say the word. Sometimes it is hard to speak of Aria and Rosabel, but having you here, whatever form you may have been put into, is like a second chance.”
“Thank you.” I swallow the lump in my throat, and turn my attention to the smaller box.
Rosabel. I hover over the carved image of my former self. If it is true to life, it means I was beautiful too.
“Do you remember that you—she—tried to save us?” Oliver asks. “She decided to give herself up to the wizard because we could not. But he got here first, and in the end it did not matter anyway. He is evil to the core.”
As I stand face to face with my own empty crypt the world sharpens into a single point of purpose.
Rosabel was prepared to do what I’ve been unable to. Give up her friends, her family, her life to keep them safe. She was ready to make the ultimate sacrifice.
Instead, she became me.
I’ve hemmed and hawed long enough. If Rosabel had the courage to be so brave, I do, too. She loved these people. This city.
I love them, too.
I can ensure Barnabas never does this to another girl, another family, another city again.
If what Batu said is true—that I have a substantial amount of magic in me—I might have a chance of survival. Of living out my days with my human friends and family, and my dragon brother.
But even if I don’t survive, it is the only way to keep those I love truly safe.
Rosabel understood it was the right thing, the only thing, to do.
And now so do I.
“Come, child,” Oliver says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I did not mean to upset you.”
My face is wet, and I brush the tears away, filled with renewed determination. “No, I needed to see this. Thank you.”
He leads me away, back to the throne room. My thoughts return to the matter of finding the wizard.
“Do we know where Barnabas hides?” He must be somewhere in the forest, but I have yet to smell a trace of his scent on the wind.
Oliver shakes his head. “No, but we have p
atrols in the forest.”
“He does not have many places left to hide. He’ll attack soon. I just wish we knew when.”
He sighs, but his grip on my arm tightens. “Barnabas never was one to make things easy.”
“He’s still in the area for you and me, and probably Delia for good measure. Aria’s refusal to marry him, and your refusal to hand over Rosabel when she was a baby, ruined his careful plans to steal all the realm’s magic. He’s fixated on revenge. He’ll finish what he started.”
We reach the main hall, and Oliver settles onto his throne. “I have no doubt you are correct, and with the foundation almost gone where the briar tore through the city wall, he will attack soon. Even with the work our people do, the more they build it up, the faster the briar tears it down. If he tries to get into Bryre again, that’s his only possible entrance. I have guards stationed there around the clock, though he is more likely to strike at night. Dark magic is more powerful then, and he will do anything to have an advantage.”
“Then I’ll join the guard tonight. He may be able to trick them with magic, but he won’t slip past me.”
I turn to leave, but Oliver catches my hand. “Be careful, Kymera.” A mix of pride and fear resides in his eyes.
“I will. So should you.”
He lets me go and I stride out so fast I may as well be flying even though my wings are furled. The moment I hit the palace’s rose garden, I take off. Barnabas will be at our gates all too soon.
It does not take me long to prepare. Ren is off delivering messages for the king and council, leaving me here by the fire with his mother, Greta, and Delia. The latter two hardly knew each other before Belladoma, but have since become great friends. I help myself to a bit of bread and cheese from the table, while Pippa whines by my side for scraps. I scratch her head absentmindedly, then wander off to my room. My mind is abuzz, and I do not feel much like talking.
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