“As luck would have it,” Arthur said, “I planned to give the egg to you and your apprentice to see if you could use your magic to hatch it.”
Merlin bowed, tossing her mint-green braids into a wave before us. “So, there is no harm done.”
I steeled my nerves and risked a glance up at the young king. There were five or six stone steps that led to Arthur's throne, which sat proudly atop a marble slab. The base of the slab was where Arthur’s knights usually stood. But today there was only Percival, Lamorak, and Gawain, a middle-aged man I’d never heard utter a single syllable. With Galahad behind me, the three knights and Arthur hardly seemed a formidable force. But I knew better than to underestimate an enemy based on physical appearance alone.
There were two aspects of Arthur that did feel kingly and dangerous: the cruelty of his icy gaze and the malevolence in his crooked smile. As my gaze lifted to his face, he wore such an expression that made my stomach tighten. I returned my attention to the floor in front of me.
“Perhaps,” Arthur said, his voice carrying around the room like he was a large man, “I guess it all depends on where your loyalties lie.”
Merlin said, “Of course with you, Your Majesty.”
“And that of your apprentice?” Arthur said. I felt the heat of his gaze on my forehead but dare not look back up.
“Rise,” he said.
I stood, determined to keep my gaze from Arthur. His frosty blue eyes reminded me of the man who murdered my father. My knees were sore from kneeling and I felt grateful to put some distance between myself and Galahad’s sword.
“Come,” he said.
I turned to Merlin, her gaze a torrent of worry, her posture still sagged with exhaustion. If things took a turn for the worse, there wouldn’t be much she could do.
I started up the stairs and felt Arthur rise from his throne as I neared the top. Even with his crown, I was an inch or two taller. He drew my gaze to his with the silent whisper of his will and looked into my eyes like he was searching for something in them.
“Where do your loyalties lie?” he said, but this time, his voice was so faint it didn’t carry enough to echo.
My mind flashed to Minseo as he played with Morgana. It had been four weeks since Lancelot brought me here. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet the wound was still fresh. I relished in the pain, for the memory of them hadn’t yet lost its bite, like the memories of my childhood now had. My heart ached, a motivating pain that reminded me not to lose hope, that soon I’d find a way to escape captivity and join them in Vires. “With my family,” I said. His eyes flickered as he nodded then chewed on his bottom lip like my response had irritated him.
“Your Majesty,” Merlin intervened. “Her abilities are not as strong as I predicted. I vow to you that I will burn her alive should she seek to betray you.”
Arthur’s gaze dropped to where Merlin stood, but he didn’t move to look around me. Instead, he stared at my collarbone as if he could see through me to her. “If not gifted with magical blood, what use is she to us?”
I felt the prickle of sweat on the back of my neck, fearful of what Merlin might reveal. We’d tried in vain to remove the metallic bracelet from my wrist, especially when it first appeared, but the bracelet and the obedience of Garix were tied to me alone. If Arthur knew the details of that, he wouldn’t hesitate to lop off my arm for the chance to obtain such a gift. At my core, I trusted Merlin. Not only for the kind and compassionate person I’d come to know, but as a thoughtful woman who considered her actions like a chess master mid-game. She was the only guardian of my secret. My sister, not in blood but in bond.
“She’s proven to be a gifted dragon trainer,” Merlin said. “We can use her to get Garix ready for battle.”
Arthur stepped to the side, the blue slits of his eyes glaring down at her with distrust. “Garix,” he scoffed.
“Your enemies will cower before you,” Merlin said, feeding his need for significance. Her voice was loud enough to reverberate off every misshapen corner of the throne room.
Arthur’s eyes glossed over as if he watched the possibilities play out in his mind’s eye before he took a seat back on his throne. “Galahad,” he said, finally. “From now on you will watch over the dragon’s training and report to me.”
Galahad sheathed his sword. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said, his armor gleaming with the blood-red light of the stained glass.
“And Galahad,” Arthur said, “that dragon egg was supposed to be delivered to this castle weeks ago, meaning it’s been gone without your notice all this time.”
Galahad’s usually proud smile faded, his face going stark white.
Arthur continued, “Don’t disappoint me again.”
4
Young
The sun woke me, an uplifting reminder I was no longer a prisoner at Bullhorn. But as quickly as my revery found me, it was crushed beneath the sadness and guilt of knowing Charlotte had taken my place.
One moment I knelt in the atrium at Castle Cadere, certain I was breathing my last breaths, and the next I was being carried away in chains and carted off to Bullhorn. Those first few weeks in the dark, I prayed for the death I was promised, but it never came.
“Brother,” Minseo called from outside my room. I sat up, pushing my blanket off. I sighed. Even when we were small, Minseo was never this attentive. “Coming,” I called, my voice cracking with disuse. It was as if I were injured, or as if Minseo worried I’d be captured again. During my captivity, I’d imagined he was okay, living in Vires like he always wanted, so this new reality wasn’t difficult for me to adjust to. I could sympathize with how challenging the last five years must’ve been for him, believing I was dead. But, if I was honest, in the back of my mind I couldn’t shake the anger I felt.
I slid open my door and headed into the morning air, which was already hot though the sun had just risen.
“How are you this morning?” Minseo said. His hair was barely above his ears and a little more tousled than I remembered. His eyes were circled with the darkness of insomnia, and he wore a stubbly mustache and goatee that looked like a shorter version of Father’s.
“I’m fine,” I said. “You?”
He ignored my question. “Did I wake you?”
I shook my head and clenched my jaw to restrain a frustrated sigh. My sentimental brother. I’d played it over in my head a thousand times. It was the perfect combination of events that led to this stomach-churning outcome.
It was as if Minseo could sense my distaste, my rage. It muffled every interaction as if he could mend it with these exhausting pleasantries. Deep down, I knew there was no one to blame but Arthur.
“Are you alright?” Minseo said.
“Yes,” I said as I grabbed my scabbard and sheathed my sword, but my tone was biting, and he wasn’t going to let it go.
He sighed. “Look, if this is about Charlotte—”
“It’s not,” I said quickly.
His face drained of color.
I turned away and headed for the lake that surrounded the throne room. That wasn’t a conversation I was ready to have or even a situation I wanted to unpack.
Minseo grabbed my arm. “Wait. Please,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “Tell me then.”
“Tell you what?” I said, slapping his hand away.
“What’s wrong? I want to fix it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t keep tiptoeing around you.”
I huffed. “Then stop.” I turned away, unable to stomach the hurt look in his eyes. Minseo’s weight came crashing down on my shoulders, sending us toppling onto the gravel path. My elbow scraped against the tiny stones and rang out with pain.
“No,” Minseo said, rolling off my back. “I won’t stop. We’re brothers.”
Before I gave my body permission, my fist collided with his jaw. Minseo cradled his chin with his right hand, his left still supporting the rest of his weight along with his knees, but the pain in his eyes had already vanished and, in its place, th
e corners of his lips peaked up with relief. I knelt beside him. “How could you let this happen?”
He swung suddenly. I threw my weight back to dodge. We scrambled to our feet. “I’m sorry,” he said. He charged me, gripping my head under one arm. I punched at his stomach but he didn’t release his grip.
I heaved breathlessly. “You— You let our father sell our kingdom to Camelot!” I shouted. “One life in exchange for the whole kingdom,” I yelled through gritted teeth.
Minseo eased his grip in surprise. “Is that what this is about?”
I swept his legs and he landed with a crash face up on the gravel and a wide grin on his face. I hesitated, lost in the sudden memory of our relationship as boys. How I used to let him talk me into all sorts of mischief with no reward but that same smile.
I shook the memory and kicked him in the ribs. He doubled over, blocking his ribs with his arms. “It’s nice to have you back,” he said, spitting blood from his cut lip.
But that was exactly my point. How could I enjoy this return when so many lives would suffer because of it. I kicked him one final time and turned away before his smile softened me. “So…” he choked, “this is a little about Charlotte then.”
I shook my head as I walked toward the throne room, calling back over my shoulder, “No, I’ll need my sword for that one.”
5
Charlotte
Galahad was a pill, but it didn’t take long to show him I did have the ability to train Garix. I occasionally said something with my mouth and ordered Garix to do something else in my heart, to avert the suspicion I wasn’t so much training Garix but controlling him. It was much easier to explore his potential when we weren’t in hiding and, after a few short weeks of training, I noticed a new presence inside myself.
It started at the end of a long training day. Garix soared through the rays of a pink sunset, snapping at the clouds in the distance like puffs of candy on the wind. Merlin and I watched like proud parents, astonished by how quickly Garix had grown. Gone were the days of the lizard-like baby or the puppy-sized teen he once was. He was now the size of a full-grown bear, with an appetite to match. With his wings outstretched, he could block out the sun and plunge us into darkness with his menacing shadow.
Merlin, who was once my mentor, was now forced to wield water just to keep the fire damage at bay. Still, many of the tactics she shared to control her elemental magic applied to successfully commanding Garix, and I wondered if I could use those same nuggets of knowledge to help Morgana control her elemental magic when she was older.
Suddenly, at the pit of my stomach came something new. An exhaustion that threatened to knock me off my feet. I put my hand to my head and focused on the new sensation which somehow reminded me of the color yellow.
I felt Merlin’s cold hands grip my arm. “Are you alright? Charlotte, what’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “I’m exhausted.” She looked at me quizzically. We’d been standing around watching Garix all day; It was hardly strenuous. Especially compared to others we’d had.
Her eyebrows pinched together with concern. “Physically or mentally?”
“It’s—” I almost stopped myself from blurting the silliness that I felt, but I trusted Merlin to understand. “It’s my wings,” I said.
She blinked twice, then her eyes widened with understanding the same moment it clicked with me. Our gaze shot to the sky and I willed Garix to return quickly and rest. Relief swept over me as he flew into view. He lowered down to us clumsily, landing too hard and shaking us off balance. The garden blackened under a haze of dust, and Merlin and I squealed with excitement from the revelation of our new ability.
Galahad cleared his throat and we turned to him, his dark empty eyes dripping with suspicion. “We, uh…” Merlin stammered, “we thought we lost him for a minute.”
I walked over to Garix, running my fingers along the scales on his face and willing him to know how proud I was of him. I let him know I’d felt his emotion and that I would be waiting for him to share another. Without a moment’s hesitation, I felt it in the pit of my stomach. Like a link of empathy had been opened between us. It hit in the same low point in my stomach. Barely distinguishable from my own emotions, I understood. While the first emotion hit and felt oddly like the color yellow, this one was red. Garix was hungry.
An hour later, Garix shredded a goat between his teeth, blood spurting out as the poor creature’s corpse was tossed about between bites. It had been a horrifying scene the first time I witnessed it, even if it had only been with a mouse, but his meals had become more gruesome as he grew and fed on larger prey. I got into the habit of zoning out and picturing something more palatable, usually Garix soaring among the clouds. I had to be careful not to feel an order to him as I did so, a mistake I made often at the start of training. It was during one such thought when the idea came to me. Garix was not the small, helpless creature that hatched from the egg but a powerful being that grew with each day. Was it possible for Garix to carry me out of here? No. Was it possible for him to carry me to Vires?
6
Minseo
Of course Young was angry about the alliance with Vires. We were only a few months away from having to pay our first taxes to his knights. Only Arthur could be happy about such an arrangement, one that would bankrupt our kingdom in a few short years. I imagined that all the weight between Young and me came from whatever conclusions he’d drawn that night in the throne room when Morgana called me “Appa.” Maybe some of it was, but if I knew my brother, remembered who he truly was and not how I’d idealized him all these years, duty was a much bigger influence on him than it ever was on me. My jaw still throbbed from where he’d struck me. Finally, he’d addressed some of his feelings, though I had to instigate it with a fight. I pushed my jaw from side to side, appraising the damage. He certainly wasn’t the runt he was when I lost him.
His willingness to fight somehow meant we were still brothers. I lay back on the gravel beside the palace lake, relief washing over me like a wave on the shore. The morning sun felt warm on my face and I exhaled a breath I felt I’d been holding since Young returned. Exhaustion settled in and, just when I thought I might fall asleep, I heard a voice that startled me.
“Is he dead?” Morgana asked, her cold hands already poking at my face.
“Hi, honey,” I said, sitting up.
Gabriel stood over me with a wary smile. “No, Morg, it looks like Minseo had too much to drink last night.”
I stood, lifting Morgana and resting her on my hip. “Where’s Junho?” I asked.
Gabriel’s gaze slipped to the left. “How should I know?”
“Oh. Sorry. You’re just usually together,” I said, putting Morgana down and taking her by the hand.
“We’re just friends,” Gabe said. He leaned closer. “Why, did he say anything?”
I smirked and he winced in response. “I have a council meeting,” I said, taking pity on him. “Can I swing by after to play with my little princess?”
“Sure,” Gabriel said. “We were thinking of spending the day at the river.”
“Perfect. I’ll meet up with you both later.” I spun Morgana and knelt in front of her.
“I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll miss you,” she said, scrunching her face.
“Oh yeah? How much?”
She stretched her arms out to the side, nearly throwing herself off balance.
“Well, I’ll miss you this much.” I mimicked her, my arms reaching far beyond hers. She beamed and I tousled her curls before standing. I headed toward the throne room but turned to wave to Morgana one last time.
“Minseo,” Gabe said.
The way he slumped alarmed me.
“Uh... never mind,” he said.
“No, no. What is it?”
His gaze lifted to my face. “Maybe you can convince your brother to come this time. Y-you know, for Morgana.”
I felt the knife slide painfully from the wound. “Oh, sur
e, of course.”
I walked across the lake on the stone bridge, my thoughts still lingering on what Gabriel said. I knew Morgana wasn’t my daughter, and the fact that I wasn’t going to be “Appa” for her anymore stung. I also couldn’t ignore that Young hadn’t shown much interest in that role.
I knew he had a thousand things to adjust to, and our little scuffle revealed he carried guilt for the poor political situation in Vires. A smile pinched at my sore jaw as the pain, for the first time, made me feel that Young was truly home. I walked into the throne room, a long table routinely laid out in the area to the right of the throne. Twenty or so chairs were set up around it, but aside from Young and me, there were only two members who had come this early: Hanbit, the mousy advisor who I hadn’t spoken to since we returned to Vires after losing Charlotte, and the red-cheeked man who wore an orange sash. Young sat at the head of the table, in Sumin’s seat.
With so much happening with Camelot, Sumin’s condition never seemed to be a topic of discussion. It was difficult to invite the possibility that I could lose another brother. It was beginning to be a concern of the council as well, just like his infertility had been, only this time no one spoke about it overtly but in whispers or taverns.
My relationship with Sumin was complicated at best, enough to rival that of Young and me. I had been consciously avoiding going to see him and I gave myself a multitude of excuses. I didn’t want to bother him, I didn’t like seeing him that way, but if I was honest with myself, I was terrified of what he might say.
“Minseo,” my father said. His voice behind me startled me. “Take your seat.”
I sat down beside him. It was the same place I’d been sitting when I had a breakdown. It was the same place I begged the council to go to war with Camelot, time and time again. I was prepared to do the same. It was no longer out of revenge for my brother but for my… I stopped, mentally stumbling over the slip... but for Charlotte.
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