by Lea Doué
Books in The Firethorn Chronicles
The Firethorn Crown
The Midsummer Captives
Novelettes and Short Stories
Red Orchid
Snapdragon
The Midsummer Captives
(Firethorn Chronicles 2)
Copyright © 2016 by Lea Doué
Design and Formatting by Damonza.
www.damonza.com
Editing by Laurel Garver
http://laurelgarver.blogspot.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced, or transmitted by any means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
ISBN (print) 978-0-9949113-2-2
ISBN (ebook) 978-0-9949113-3-9
To Brian
The Twelve Princesses of Ituria
Lily
Her Royal Highness Princess Lily, First Daughter and Crown Princess of Ituria
Gwen
Reluctant harp player and lover of horses
Hazel
Collector of sparkly things
Melantha
Twin to Mara, mapmaker, and expert dagger thrower
Mara
Twin to Melantha and lover of all things chocolate and canine
Neylan
Gardener, bookworm, and wearer of dragons
Junia
Healer and fan of all things pink
Coral
Lover of balls and dancing
Azure
Fearless runner and weapons enthusiast
Ivy
Watcher and keeper of secrets
Ruby
Identical twin and painter
Wren
Identical twin, painter, and dragon lover
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Chapter One
One sister down, ten to go.
Gwen rubbed her temples just as the carriage jolted to the left, dumping her into her sister Hazel’s lap. She righted herself, and neither of them bothered to apologize for the fiftieth time. A downed tree had forced them to detour off the well-maintained forest road onto an old logging trail, and despite the velvet lining the walls, her shoulders and head ached after taking one too many bumps.
She would much rather be on her horse. Hazel had insisted that riding in the rain was unladylike, so Gwen had obediently come inside. This trip was about helping her sister make the right match, not about her own comfort.
The only good thing about riding in the carriage was that Theo couldn’t bother her in here. He seemed to support the popular opinion concerning the two of them.
As the second of the twelve princesses of Ituria, and with her oldest sister’s engagement barely a month old, Gwen had already been matched in many people’s minds with Prince Theodric of Osha, who had traveled south to escort his brother home. But she had no interest in Theo or anyone else. Right now, Hazel, younger by a year, was her priority. And there were nine more sisters after her.
She peeked out the window. Theo rode nearby, his short yellow hair darkened by the rain. He’d taken off his cloak—a good sign. The three dragon soldiers flanking him had done the same. So the rain had stopped, but she was still stuck in the carriage. Theo glanced her way, and she leaned back quickly, not sure if he’d seen her. No need to give him the wrong idea. She was only checking the weather. For the fiftieth time.
“Why are you in here, anyway, Your Highness?” asked Hazel’s fourteen-year-old maid, Bay, blunt as ever. She stared pointedly at Gwen, her tight black curls refusing to touch her shoulders in the humidity. “You hate small spaces, and you ride all the time in bad weather.”
The other two maids ignored her, having grown used to her curiosity and Hazel’s tolerance of it.
“Princesses don’t ride in the rain,” Gwen said.
“Really?” Bay’s nose scrunched up, as if this were a new rule she hadn’t yet learned. Considering she’d seen no less than five of Gwen’s sisters riding in the rain at various times, it was no wonder she was confused.
“Not when we’re being escorted by two princes of Osha,” Gwen said to clarify, “one of whom may be my brother-in-law someday.” She glanced at Hazel and grinned when she turned red. Even blushing, she was the prettiest of the twelve sisters. The only blonde, too. Her hair was naturally a dark golden yellow, the same shade as Theo’s was in the rain.
“Gwen.” Hazel’s voice carried a warning.
She sighed. “I know.” A princess didn’t discuss personal matters in front of maids.
“One of them might be Princess Hazel’s brother-in-law someday, too,” Bay said with a sly grin.
“Not likely,” Gwen said. “And you can count that as reason number two why I’m riding in this wheeled hatbox.”
One of the maids rolled her eyes and peeked out the curtain on the other side.
“Go ahead and open it,” Gwen said.
Sunlight struggled through the thick canopy of the Ling Forest, dappling the bushes and briers lining the road. A blanket of ferns dotted with moss-covered logs and splashes of orange flowers stretched into the interior, thick with shades of green too numerous to name. They’d passed into Osha some time ago and had yet to come out from under the trees.
Gwen longed for the plains they had yet to reach, where the blue sky stretched from one horizon to another. The trees here were too much like a roof, the logging path a narrow hall with no end in sight.
Theo’s younger brother Holic had promised to let her ride a hill pony. Holic had visited during the Dragon Festival over six weeks ago and had quickly become friends with all of her sisters. He’d helped them get through a tough time with a sorcerer and a curse, and he hadn’t wanted to leave Hazel after that. So his father sent Theo to fetch him. The king of Osha had kept his two remaining sons close after losing both his heir and his wife over four years ago in an attack by razor-tail dragons. Although razor-tail sightings were infrequent along the main roads, anyone traveling through the Ling hired dragon soldiers these days.
They had no less than twelve with them this trip. Eight on horseback, two driving the carriage, one acting as footman. Plus Holic’s bodyguard. And the maid who served as their camp cook carried herself suspiciously like a woman trained in battle. Gwen should know—she and her sisters had had a retired dragon soldier as a governess for years.
She peeked out the window again. Theo chatted with one of the soldiers. He glanced her way twice, but she didn’t bother to close the curtain this time.
“You may as well go ride now,” Hazel said.
“No, I’m fine. It’s wet out, so we’re better off in here.” Her gaze strayed to the windo
w where the maid still pretended to ignore their conversation. The cook pressed her lips together against a smile.
“I know you want to,” Hazel said. “Besides, you can’t keep hiding whenever someone shows an interest in you.”
“Why not? And I’m not hiding.” Was it that obvious? “You’re the one who said it wasn’t ladylike to ride in the rain.”
“It’s not raining anymore.”
No, it wasn’t. But Theo still watched the carriage, waiting to… . Waiting to what? Talk to her? Her sister Melantha would laugh to hear she was afraid to talk. Still, she wanted an excuse to avoid him if she went out.
“Ride with me.” She grasped Hazel’s hands.
Hazel wrinkled her nose. “It’s still wet out.”
“You just said it’s not raining anymore. It’s perfectly acceptable for a lady to ride now.”
“Acceptable, yes, but the trees are dripping.”
“So?”
Hazel raised a golden eyebrow. Gwen knew, as all the sisters did, that you didn’t argue with that eyebrow.
Knowing and doing were two different things. “Remember why I’m here,” Gwen said with a pointed look. When Theo had invited them both to visit his home, Gwen had only agreed because of Hazel, who had been as reluctant as Holic to say goodbye, but hesitant to commit to anything more. Hazel obviously wanted Gwen to give Theo a chance during this trip, but Gwen was determined to do no such thing. She’d already fallen for one brother, and look what had happened to him.
No one knew, of course. Not even her oldest sister Lily, her confidante and best friend.
This wasn’t how Gwen had envisioned visiting Osha’s capital. Four years ago, when Theo’s older brother Prince Edric had visited her family to meet the heir, Gwen had spent much of the summer apologizing for Lily’s busy schedule and gladly escorting Edric around in her place. Her sixteen-year-old self had imagined he’d welcomed her company. For the first time in her life, she’d allowed herself to daydream about a future that included more than her sisters. She’d seen herself wearing a flowing gown and riding a beautiful charger, parading into the capital next to Edric, crown on her head. Not the circlet she wore as a princess, but the crown of the co-heir of Osha.
But Edric and all of his traveling companions, including his mother, had been lost on their way home. She’d mourned silently, mortified to admit she’d dared see herself as anything more than second-best, that she’d dared to think she could fill the same kind of role her own mother did. That she’d dared to think she could do it better.
Mother was right. She had no business being a queen.
“Please, Hazel?” She wanted her sister by her side. Theo had become more persistent since they’d left the palace.
Hazel sighed and looked resigned. “Viv, please inform the driver we wish to stop.” She brushed away a few wrinkles on her tunic, smoothed out her leggings, and tucked up a strand of hair that had escaped her braid. She’d refused to wear a pair of Gwen’s dragon-wing leggings, which didn’t wrinkle, had just enough stretch to move well, and were almost waterproof. They would have been too short for her, anyway.
Gwen didn’t bother checking her own hair. It always stayed where she put it, and the low knot felt as secure as it had that morning. Her shirt and tunic, not quite the same rich brown as Bay’s skin, had as many wrinkles as they should after a week of travel. Bay herself blended into the shadows of the carriage in black-brown clothes as dark as Gwen’s hair.
“Can I come, too, Princess?” Bay bounced on the seat, always eager to practice her new riding skills.
“Yes,” Hazel said, “but you’re riding with me. And, remember, bouncing is not ladylike.”
Bay stilled and folded her hands in her lap, but her feet swished a quiet rhythm against the floorboards. She clearly didn’t like being cooped up any more than Gwen did.
The carriage stopped. Gwen grabbed an apple from the lunch basket before letting the footman help her out. She untied Buttercup from the back of the carriage. He bumped her with his nose and lipped her sleeve, eager for a ride and a treat.
By the time Theo joined her on his blue roan, she had Buttercup saddled and ready to go.
“You never told me how he got his name,” Theo said.
Gwen mounted, grinning at the memory. “I let the twins name him. It was that or Bucky.” An obvious choice for the buckskin, but she had vetoed that one.
“Which set of twins?” Theo asked.
“Oh, Ruby and Wren.” The youngest of the sisters had been eight at the time and in love with painting flowers. Three years later, they still loved painting, but the only flower they painted these days was Buttercup himself. Usually with Gwen posing on his back.
She rode to the other side of the carriage where a guard helped Bay get seated behind Hazel. Theo followed.
Gwen rubbed her forehead. Avoiding him for the whole trip wasn’t going to be easy. Discouraging his interest might be even harder.
She managed to sandwich Hazel between her and Theo as they got back underway. Despite the heat, Hazel had draped herself in a cloak to avoid the dripping trees, which made for muffled conversation. Gwen finally let her drift back to ride beside Holic, and Theo quietly filled the gap.
The forest itself was far from quiet. Inside the carriage, the sounds had been dampened or unheard, but now birds filled the canopy with late summer chatter, and tiny brown-and-yellow butterwing dragons sifted through the leaf litter in search of delicacies. The carriage creaked and groaned through the mud, and wisps of conversations floated through the air. She wiped her brow. The midsummer heat had barely lessened the farther north they’d gone.
“I think they’re conspiring against us,” Theo said.
She glanced behind. Hazel’s hood pooled around her shoulders, and she chatted with Holic, his short orange hair sticking in all directions despite the rain. Bay waved and gave them a sunny smile.
“Or maybe they’re conspiring for us.” Theo’s brows rose with a hopeful look.
The little traitors. They knew she was trying to avoid him. She clenched her teeth, determined not to take the bait. He tried to draw her out with small talk, but she put him off politely with smiles and generic answers. Rumors in Eltekon were one thing, but rumors in his own capital were another. She needed to stop them before they had a chance to get started, especially since he might soon be her brother-in-law. She would be friendly, but not encouraging, although she hated to think that her friendliness might have already given him the wrong idea.
“Butterball looks like he could use a good run.”
Her face flushed. He did not just insult her horse. Her eyes narrowed and her back straightened, but she refused to look at him. How dare he exploit her weakness—she’d love a good gallop right now.
A weaver dragon slipped from a branch overhead, its mottled green hide barely visible among the shadows. It swung back and forth from its own snapped web. Clumsy builders. Their extremely strong webs were still no match for their extremely sharp talons. Her sister Neylan had experimented once with weaver dragon threads, which were as thick as a half dozen horse hairs. She’d braided them together, adding twigs and sticks, to recreate one of their hanging, circular nests in the gardens. It had worked, and they’d tried to see how many sisters could fit inside before it snapped. The branch broke first. Gwen preferred wearing weaver-silk dresses. She should make a note of this place—discarded webs littered the canopy, a seamstress’s dream.
Theo grinned as the dragon flapped and climbed back into the tree. “Come on. According to the map, there’s a stream not far ahead that cuts under a bridge. We’ll let the carriage catch up.”
She shouldn’t. But, really, what trouble could they get into? The outrider would have scouted that far ahead already and found a bridge, or they would have heard from him. And she wouldn’t have to make small talk. The temptation was too much.
She nodded to the nearest guard and said, “We’ll meet you at the bridge.” A glance at Theo, a nudge to Butterc
up, and she took the lead with a leap.
She stayed in the lead, too. Whether Theo held his horse back on purpose or not, she didn’t care. She let the rhythm of the ride help her forget about the prince chasing her. The trees blurred, the mud speckled her boots, and her heart joined in the race.
The road followed the curves of the land, up and down ridges and around massive oaks and chestnuts as wide as a horse’s stride. At this pace, she’d make it to the bridge too soon—she’d have to talk about horses or something until the others showed up—but she wasn’t slowing down. Neither was Theo.
Around the next curve in the road, she pulled Buttercup to a sharp halt. His front hooves lifted off the ground for a moment in alarm. Theo stopped his mount as quickly, and they both sat and stared at the great tree blocking the road, three times as big as the one that had turned them aside the first time. The road dipped underneath it, leaving a gap high enough for a person to crouch under, but a carriage wouldn’t fit.
And neither would a mounted dragon soldier. Where was their outrider? He should have reported back about the tree, just as he had done last time.
“Will?” Theo called, studying the ground around the tree. As a hunter, he would recognize any tracks left by the soldier or his horse. “This tree hasn’t been down long, and there are hoof prints going into the forest there.” He pointed up a small incline.
“Could he have gone after a dragon?” She didn’t want to say razor-tail. She didn’t even want to think it. There were lots of other kinds of less-vicious dragons in the forest.
Theo shook his head. “A dragon soldier wouldn’t go after a dragon alone, especially one who’s escorting a royal party.” His brows drew down, and he scanned the forest as if it held clues to the mystery.
Minutes passed. “I’m sure he’s safe,” she said finally. Not because she thought he was safe, but because Theo had already lost enough in these woods.