A traitorous stab inside made it hard for Katy to speak. Her hands burned, and her breathing felt labored. She needed to get out. Now.
“Pardon me,” she said through clenched teeth. “Where is the garderobe from here?”
“Back in the hall to the right.” Lady Chloe pointed, worry lines creasing her forehead. “Are you all right, dear?”
Katy forced herself to nod and smile before darting for the door as fast as she could go without actually breaking into a run.
* * *
Instead of running to the garderobe, Katy looked desperately for another escape. She motioned to the nearest manservant she could find.
“Please, sir.” She fought to keep her breaths even and her voice light. “The Blue Garden?”
“It’s about a ten-minute walk from here, miss. You will descend four flights of stairs, then you’ll turn left. It’s the last door on the far right—”
“Thank you!” she called over her shoulder as she broke into a sprint. Her feet hurt as she pounded the stone floors, flying as fast as she could toward relief. She passed a few surprised courtiers and servants along the way but didn’t slow. They already thought she was strange enough. Everyone did. She could feel it. But strange was better than dangerous, which was exactly what she would be if she didn’t allow the magic swelling inside her to escape.
Katy burst through the doors just as her lungs were beginning to give out. Mercifully, the large courtyard was empty. She ran to the center and looked for the pond Peter had talked about. After a moment of frantically searching the sea of green bushes and dozens of blue flowers she didn’t know the names of, she spotted it hidden beneath a drooping willow tree.
Katy threw herself down at its side and plunged her hands in. They sizzled as soon as they touched the surface, and steam rose into the air. As she continued to press her power into the water, for the first time in what felt like days, Katy felt as though she could actually breathe.
How foolish she had been to think she could go this long without letting her power release! Just because she wanted to be a normal human didn’t mean she was, and pretending so had been irresponsible and risky.
Letting the power drip from her fingers was no longer enough. Katy glared into the water, willing it to leave her body faster.
But before she could continue berating herself, a bark caught her attention. She looked down to find a familiar little face growling up at her.
“I didn’t invite you here, you know,” she told the little dog. “You should go find your mistress. Leave me be.” Then she turned back to the water, but the dog only yipped harder.
“I mean it.” Katy frowned at the tiny beast. “If you were nice, I might want you to stay, but I’ve endured about enough of that attitude for today, thank you very much.”
Still the dog barked.
“Very well, suit yourself. I’ll pretend you’re not here.” So Katy did just that. Closing her eyes, she let the rest of her power drain into her fingers. Unfortunately, in her annoyance at the dog and the ball preparations and her unpredictable hostess, she failed to rein in the surge of magic racing through her.
The sound was deafening. Like the gale of winds that precede storms on the coast, a wave rolled out onto the stone pathway in a circle of light. Then it was silent, save for the barks of an angry little dog.
She again turned to shush the dog, but as soon as she had, Katy let out a burst of laughter, then clapped her hands over her mouth and looked around to make sure no one had seen or heard her. Before her, Saraid’s little dog still jumped up and down in protest, but where his lush coat of white curls had been before, there was now nothing but bare pink skin.
Saraid’s prized dog was naked.
As if suddenly aware of its shame, the little thing went yipping out of the garden, which cleared Katy’s head for thinking. It sobered her up as well. For where thousands of blue blooms had filled the air with heavenly scents, bobbing up and down gently in the wind, there was now not a flower to be seen. Instead, sooty blue petals lay upon the ground, so thick they nearly covered the stone path entirely.
As she scrambled to her feet, she regretted letting her temper get the best of her. So much beauty. And now all of it was gone because she had let her emotions have their way with her.
“Sometimes, I think you like to laugh at me!” Katy called up to the blue sky, a half-sob unexpectedly choking her. “I’m trying! Can’t you see that? I’m trying to be good! But I can’t be good unless you let me!”
The only sound was the honk of a goose flying somewhere overhead.
“Sometimes I don’t know why I even bother.” Katy whispered, swiping at her wet cheeks with her arm. “Sometimes I think Firin Reaghan just made it up, and you either don’t exist at all, or you really do hate me.”
As she got to her feet, Katy’s arm brushed against the object hidden in her dress’s folds.
The whistle. Immediately, green eyes leapt to her mind’s eye, and Katy couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she used it now. At that moment, she desired little else than to be free of the castle and its expectations. To be free of the hostage she had become inside it. Her little cottage in Downing might have been small and dirty, but at least she had been vaguely independent there. Life had been hard, but she had proved to herself that she was strong and capable. After all, she had provided for herself and Emma for years, hadn’t she? She’d learned how to chop firewood, gather fruits and roots from the wild, make soap, and care for the animals. But here, in this beautiful fortress, she was awkward and ignorant.
And she was feared.
Well, she would be if anyone knew what she was really capable of. And they had a right to be afraid of her. But she didn’t have to remain and endure their pitying glances and stony silence.
Katy cracked open the door to the castle, peeking in to make sure no one saw her enter the hall before she headed to her room. As she changed out of her clothes and into another day dress, Katy thought harder and harder about the whistle.
Who the forest stranger was, was a mystery, but she knew she had seen him somewhere before. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have known his eyes from her dreams. Bright green, nearly the color of a pretty stone one might pick up in a garden. Though she couldn’t be sure whether he was an olc or not, he had magic, that much she knew. And anyone with magic was outlawed.
Well, perhaps his kind was outlawed. But that didn’t necessarily make him evil. Did it? Did that make him any less of a possible friend or ally? Her hand itched to take the whistle and play it now, just to see what would happen.
The only reason she didn’t was hanging in front of her, his infant eyes staring sadly down at her from his frame on the wall. Peter had given up his hopes and dreams in order to save her. It might kill him to return and find her gone. She should at least speak with him first, to wish him well and tell him she would never forget. But even the thought of this sent a shudder of horror through her.
She wasn’t strong enough to leave him. She wasn’t strong enough to stay. Katy was a coward.
22
Another Word
“You think this is funny, don’t you!”
Peter tried unsuccessfully to smother his grin as Saraid paced before him. “Saraid, it’s just a dog. And not even much of one at that. His fur will grow back. Besides, did you actually see Katy shave your dog bald?”
“No, but—”
“Then you have no proof linking her to any sort of wrongdoing. In fact,” he frowned at her, hoping his firm expression hid the nerves that were already frayed, “I think it highly uncharitable and unjust of you to make such an accusation without even a single witness.”
“It’s not the fur I’m upset about!”
Peter closed his eyes and rubbed his left temple. “Then would you please tell me what you are angry about rather than all this pouting and blubbering?”
Her eyes were as piercing as any knives. “Strange things have happened since she arrived here. And I want
to know why.”
“What kind of strange things?”
“Well, for one, the entire Blue—”
“Please forgive me, Lady Saraid.” A young maidservant shuffled in and curtsied unevenly. She couldn’t have been older than eleven.
“What?” Saraid whirled around and fixed her glare on the child.
The poor girl shook. “A thousand apologies, my lady. But the king has requested your presence at supper immediately.” The girl peeked up, daring only to meet Peter’s eyes this time instead of Saraid’s. “He says to tell you that you are…and pardon my language. They are his words. ‘Entirely too late.’”
“I told you we were going to be late, and now you’ve managed to upset my uncle.” Peter tugged his jacket into place and offered her his arm, thankful the hall they stood in was empty of most servants and courtiers. Having an argument with his intended in a drafty castle hall was not the way he had planned on spending his evening, but at least few were there to witness their disagreement.
“We’re not finished with this,” she hissed below her breath, taking his arm with the warmth of a jackal.
“I’m sure we’re not.”
To his relief, she remained in stony silence as they made their way to the dining hall. His muscles still ached from his latest journey, and he really wanted nothing more than a hot bath and sleep. But Saraid had insisted on a formal return supper, saying a three-day absence deserved such a welcome party.
At least Katy would be there.
As they entered the dining hall, the servant at the door announced their names, but Peter couldn’t have cared less. Instead, he craned his neck to see her. Disappointment set in when he found her all the way down and at the other side of the table from where he and Saraid would be seated.
She looked tired and worn. It was a look he’d often seen after their escapades into town, every time they’d run into bands of the other children. He hated that look. Resignation hung in dark circles beneath her eyes, and her shoulders drooped like flower petals under the weight of too much rain.
“Is Katy alright?” he murmured to Saraid as they were seated.
“How should I know? I’ve been with you.”
The king stood and looked at the knights, their wives, and the other courtiers scattered about the long table ahead of him. His gaze finally rested upon Peter, and when it did, his mouth turned down. “Now that we are finally all in attendance, let us begin.” He sat down hard in his chair before yanking up a bowl of stewed carrots and serving himself, not even waiting for the servant to do it. “So,” he said gruffly, “was your little jaunt successful?”
Another reason Peter had wanted to avoid this evening entirely. “I’m afraid not, Uncle.”
“What went wrong?”
Peter took a deep breath and glanced around at his men. They all looked either as tired as Katy or as cross as Saraid. “I’m afraid a storm interrupted our search.”
The king paused, his knife still stuck inside his quail. “You couldn’t wait for it to finish? You were gone three days! What in the blazes were you doing?”
“That’s just it. We tried to search the town every time the storm let up. As reported, it’s been half taken by the forest, and the other half is beginning to follow. But every time we ventured any deeper than halfway, the storm would begin again.”
“Were there storms here, my lord?” Antony spoke up from the king’s other side.
“None whatsoever.” The king scowled so hard that his golden circlet fell over his bushy white brows.
“Well, it stormed at the village,” Peter said, sawing at his meat a little harder than necessary. “We decided to return after our eighth failed attempt.”
A heavy silence stretched out over the entire table. Saraid picked at her food, her mouth drawn up into that pinched expression Peter disliked so much. He had often wondered how such a beautiful young woman could manage to look so entirely disdainful when she put her mind to it.
“It’s your fault, you know.”
Everyone looked up at Katy. Even from his side of the table, Peter could make out the familiar smug little smile. How he’d missed that. The rest of the table looked utterly confused, however, and Saraid looked scandalized. Even the king had quirked an eyebrow, but Katy only stared at her plate and continued to grin.
“And why would that be?” Peter leaned back.
“You didn’t catch the frog.”
Peter stared at her for a long moment then let out a burst of laughter.
“I’m afraid I’m rather confused,” Saraid said coldly. “What in the isles is she talking about?”
But Peter was laughing so hard he couldn’t speak. The entire table continued to stare, but he didn’t care. “I’d forgotten about that,” he finally managed to say, wiping the tears from his face. “Yes, I suppose it is my fault.”
“Really, Peter!” Saraid said, rolling her eyes.
But Peter wasn’t about to let Saraid ruin his fun. “When we were small,” he explained, “a large bullfrog lived behind my house. Every time it rained, he would come out and croak so loudly that between the sound of the rain and his croaking it was impossible to get any sleep.” He smiled at Katy, the warmth of those fleeting childhood moments filling him once again. “I had determined that I was going to grow up to be a knight at that time, crown or none. After finally hearing the frog for herself, Katy told me that if I was going to be any sort of useful knight, I would need to catch this frog, then we would be free of the rain and everyone could sleep.”
“She blamed the frog for the rain?” Lady Glenda sent Katy a suspicious glance.
“I think she just liked provoking me into becoming a wet, muddy mess trying to prove myself. Then my father would make me take a bath.” Peter stretched and grinned again. “I hated baths, and she knew it.”
“You must have so many wonderful stories,” Lady Chloe chuckled, buttering her scone. “How lucky to have known someone for such a long time.”
Peter felt Saraid stiffen beside him.
“Really, do tell us another one,” Lady Chloe urged Katy, her smile kind. Peter wanted to hug the little woman.
“I have one this time,” he broke in. Everyone but Saraid leaned forward a little. Katy’s eyes grew wide, so Peter wiggled his eyebrows at her mischievously. “When Katy was eight, she was terrified of lizards. So I found one of those horned ones and wrapped it up in a bit of parchment paper, then tied it with cord.”
“Did your father know about this?”
Peter turned to find even his uncle smiling.
“Absolutely not. I would have been in danger of losing my head.” He turned back to the rest of the table, which was now waiting expectantly. “I invited her into our barn to see her gift. All she had to do was unwrap the parchment.”
A few people giggled or gasped, and Katy rolled her eyes.
“Did you scream?” Tomas asked Katy.
“Screaming would be putting it mildly.” Peter laughed. “I nearly lost my hearing for a week.”
“No offense, sire, but I’m surprised she is still willing to talk with you to this day,” Lady Chloe chuckled as she reached for another scone.
“Oh, she got her revenge.”
“What happened?” Domnhall’s wife asked.
“Well, suffice it to say that while lizards terrified the life out of little Katy McKine,” Peter said, fixing Katy with another ornery grin, “snakes did not.”
“Where did you find it?” Briant asked, shaking his head.
“In my bed.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Peter turned to see Saraid staring at Katy.
“You cared so little for his safety that you put a snake in our future king’s bed.”
The happiness melted from Katy’s face. “It was just a garden snake.” She dropped her eyes. “And I didn’t know he was the prince.”
“Of course you didn’t, dear,” Lady Chloe said.
“Oh, Saraid.” Peter shook his head. “No nee
d to be like that. I deserved it.”
“Did you deserve to be orphaned at the age of fourteen?”
Where was she going with this? Peter stared at her, unsure of what to do. The gentle lines that usually made her fair face so pleasing were gone now. He could feel the anger rolling off her in waves.
“Did you deserve to be attacked and nearly killed on your way here after you were exiled?”
How did she know about that? He certainly hadn’t told her. Only Katy, his uncle, and his men knew about that. “Saraid,” Peter said, glancing at Katy’s suddenly pale face, “don’t.”
But Saraid only stood, her chair scraping the ground then landing with a bang. “You never really cared for him, did you? If you did, you wouldn’t have put a snake in his bed. And if you really cared for him, you wouldn’t still be here now.”
Katy sank lower in her chair, but Saraid only grew louder as she addressed the table. “Pay attention! All of you!” She turned to Katy and pointed. “As soon as they left to get her and bring her back, it all began again! The forest! The olc! The awful weather.”
“Saraid, I mean it! Sit down!” Peter ordered.
But Saraid stayed standing. “I can’t believe you’re not all seeing this! It’s as clear as day!” She turned to Peter. “Yesterday, we chose blue for your coronation ceremony. But when we went to the Blue Garden for flowers, it was little more than a charred heap, all the petals either on the ground or blackened where they sat!”
“You don’t know—”
“Upon questioning, one of the servants said she asked him for directions to the garden less than an hour before we found it that way.”
Peter stood and glared down at her, but Saraid continued in a rush, eyes blazing as she stared defiantly up at him. “It’s not just me! The servants are talking. Even the citizens have begun to gossip!” She leaned in. “For years I’ve been lenient about your escapades, even encouraged you. But now that I see her, I fear the cause of your danger might very well be coming from within your own court!”
The Autumn Fairy (The Autumn Fairy Trilogy Book 1) Page 14