“The only person who knows them is the cat, and trust me,” Rhys said bitterly, “she’s not talking.”
“But if there was—” I said.
“There’s not. You have to face that this is your life now. Fate has decreed that you are queen, and so queen you shall be.” Rhys patted the creature on his shoulder absently. “Now, forget about Fate and trying to get home or anything else. We’ll worry about all of that later. Right now, I’ve got something more interesting to show you. You’re not the only one with a flying pet.”
“Hey!” Winston said. “I’m a dragon, not a pet.”
“Sure you’re not.” Rhys raised an eyebrow before focusing on me. “Just remember to take him for regular walkies, Princess. Dragons are notoriously hard to housebreak.”
“I’m going to housebreak you,” Winston said, taking a step toward Rhys. I couldn’t help smiling.
“You can try.” Rhys smirked. “It’s been a long time since I beat the crap out of a dragon. Might be a good way to kill some time. That is, if you can quit cuddling with Princess Allie long enough to face me.”
“I wasn’t cuddling—” Winston started.
“Enough. No one’s housebreaking anyone,” I said. “Now, what is that bird on your shoulder? He’s enormous.”
“Princess Allie, this is Balmeer, a miniature roc who allows me to hunt with him and call him friend. Balmeer, meet the Princess.”
The roc dipped his head low in front of me, his eyes fixed on mine. I bowed my head in return, and the bird made two clicking sounds before straightening and pulling his far wing up to hide his face. “He’s a miniature? Are you sure?”
“He is. A full-sized roc can grow to almost twelve feet tall with a twenty-foot wingspan. It’s said that in ancient times, when the roc colonies migrated, they blocked out the sun.”
“He’s beautiful. How did you get him for a pet?”
“Rocs are common here in Nerissette,” Rhys said, taking my arm and leading me away from the castle. “But Balmeer isn’t actually a pet. He was separated from his family and has allowed me to foster him. We are friends and comrades, but he is his own creature, not something that I own.”
“How did the two of you meet?” I asked.
“Darinda, the head of the Dryad Order,” Rhys said. “She was helping him to find a new home and thought that I might need a companion in the north. It seems that he had made a nest in her tree and made a bit of nuisance of himself.”
“You know where to find the dryads?”
“Of course. Why?”
“I want to find Mercedes.”
“Mercedes?” Rhys asked.
“One of my friends who fell through the book with me and ended up here. The Fate Maker turned her into a dryad.”
“Yeah,” Rhys said. “You mentioned your friend the dryad last night, but I didn’t catch her name. Mercedes? I like it.”
“I need to see her as soon as possible,” I said, ignoring his comment about her name.
“Well,” Rhys said, “lucky for you, I know where Darinda and the rest of her order spend their days. It’s near where Balmeer and I were going to take Winston to teach him how to hunt. You and the dryad should join us. If you’d like, perhaps I can teach you a bit of swordplay? Just in case.”
“I’m not going to go watch someone else kill innocent creatures just because he can. That’s how I spent breakfast, and I don’t need you to teach me how to swordfight. I already know how to fence. My mother made me take lessons when I was a kid.”
“We don’t hunt for the fun of it,” Rhys said. “Rocs can only eat food they’ve hunted for themselves once they’ve left the hatchling nest. Balmeer must hunt if he is to survive.”
“What?” Winston asked.
“I said we don’t hunt for the fun of it,” Rhys said.
“Not that.” Winston put his hands on my shoulders and stared deep into my eyes. “What did you say, Allie? About killing innocent creatures?”
“I…” I wrapped my arms around my waist, holding myself upright as best as I could.
“Allie?” Winston asked.
“Princess?” Rhys said. “Are you okay?”
“The Fate Maker killed one of the fairies during breakfast. He just picked her up and threw her on the ground and stepped on her. Like she was nothing,” I whispered. “He just killed her.”
“Oh, Christ,” Winston said, disgust in his voice.
“I told you he was evil,” Rhys said. “Now, what are you going to do about it? How do you intend to stop him?”
“I told him he couldn’t just kill other people, or creatures, or anything. They have the right to live without being stepped on one morning because he feels like squishing something during breakfast.”
“And?” Rhys asked.
“And what?” I asked. What did he expect me to do? The guy had everyone in his grasp. Wasn’t it enough that I’d stood up to him?
“How will you enforce it? You’ve told the man that he cannot do something. Have you told him what the consequences will be if he crosses you?” Rhys asked.
“Then I’ll—” Winston started.
“You’ll fight all her battles for her?” Rhys asked. “You’ll go in front of the Court of the Silver Thorn and tell them they must do everything her way or you’ll breathe fire on them? You’ll show the world she can’t fight for herself? They’ll never believe she is a queen if you do that.”
“But—”
“Now.” Rhys stepped forward and lowered his face so that we were eye to eye. “How will you enforce your ban on murder?”
“I ordered him to stop killing.”
“You ordered him to stop killing or else what? Will you hold him to his oath with a sword at his throat?”
“I…”
“The race of man only obeys laws because there are consequences if they don’t. If you ask a man not to do something he may agree out of respect to you, but when you order a man to do things he will only comply out of fear. He must know that no matter what horror faces him for obeying your order, it pales in comparison to what will happen if he fails.”
“Yeah, well, if you haven’t noticed he’s bigger than I am, and he’s a wizard. What can I do to scare him? Threaten to be mad? Stab him? Violence isn’t the answer.”
“Sometimes it’s the only answer,” Rhys said. “But no, you don’t stab him. You use your army to be the force behind your commands. Then, if anyone defies you—even the Fate Maker—you send us to enforce your judgment without mercy. Humiliate and destroy him where everyone can see. Show that your rule is without question.”
“How is that different from me stopping him?” Winston asked.
“Because she has to be the one seen to give the order. She has to be the one to order the men out to possibly die in her name,” Rhys said.
“That’s barbaric,” I said.
“I never said it was a civilized manner of ruling, but I’ve often found that even the most cultured men can only be persuaded to do something they don’t like because they are threatened by someone else.”
“I can’t order people to their deaths,” I said quietly.
“One day very soon, Princess, you may not have a choice.” Rhys stepped back. “Now, come along. You’re in shock from your fall through the book yesterday, and now, after the Fate Maker’s antics, I think you could use some air.”
“But—”
“Is there anything you can do, right this moment, to stop the Fate Maker?” Rhys asked.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Then come along.” He motioned toward the forest and then started walking, leaving Winston and me behind.
“It’ll be okay,” Winston said as we entered the woods, the dark tree trunks soon hiding the palace from sight. “We’ll find some way to stop this and get home.”
“Do you really think so?” I asked.
“I do.” He slipped an arm around my shoulders, and I couldn’t help snuggling into it, enjoying the feel of him beside me, more than I should hav
e.
“Why?” I asked. “Why are you so sure that we can get back?”
“Because I don’t believe in Fate,” Winston said. “According to the dragons, no one has seen her since the Pleiades disappeared into the sky. She’s a legend. The only one who’s ever even talked to her is each generation’s Fate Maker and that horrible cat. For all we know, Fate doesn’t exist.”
“Then how did we end up here?” Rhys asked.
“Magic. Crazy cats that wield magic and want to control the world but lack thumbs? I don’t know how she does it, but it’s not some magical god in the sky. It’s just the cat being insane, and the wizard using her craziness to control everyone.”
“So, you don’t think she even might be real? Fate?” I asked.
“If she is, she can come down here and force me to do her will,” Winston said. “Because I don’t intend to just roll over and give up without a fight, and I don’t care what Fate has to say about it.”
“What about you, Rhys?” I asked as he pushed his way farther into the forest, holding branches out of the way while we followed him. “Do you believe in Fate?”
“I believe that we’re here and there’s no way home so we don’t have much choice left. But any time it’s possible, I try to decide for myself.”
“And what can you decide for yourself here?” I asked.
“Where my loyalties lie.” He pushed back another low-hanging branch covered in silver leaves, and I found myself in the middle of a clearing. Looking around I saw that we were surrounded by dozens of women, all of them sitting cross-legged in front of the trees, singing songs while roots grew out of their fingers and intertwined with those of the tree in front of them.
“And where is that?” I asked, my eyes fixed on the women in front of me.
“With you and the throne,” Rhys said softly from beside me. “Always. Now please, Princess Allie, allow me to introduce you to the Order of the Dryads.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Allie!” Mercedes sat in front of a tree, its roots wrapped around her like some sort of weird, living blanket, and all I could do was stare at her in shock.
“Oh my God, Allie. Where have you been?” She disentangled herself from the roots and hopped up before running toward me. She threw herself into my arms, and I stepped back, bumping squarely into Rhys’s chest.
“In the palace,” I said, breathless. “Where else would I be?”
“Where else wouldn’t you be?” She laughed and squeezed me tighter before looking up at the guy holding us both upright.
“Hello? Who are you? And why are you so touchy-feely with my best friend?” She turned to Winston. “Win, barbecue him. He’s getting all grabby with Allie.”
“Rhys Sullivan.” He let go of me before stepping aside and bowing his head to her, his face a blank slate. “You must be the new dryad our queen has spoken so highly of. May you have much luck in finding your tree.”
“Rhys Sullivan.” A new, richer feminine voice spoke then, her tone reminding me of dirt and forest and all those things.
I turned toward the voice and found myself facing a woman with skin the color of grass. She towered over me in her bare feet, standing even with Winston’s six-foot-two frame. She was broad-shouldered with thickly muscled legs that resembled the trunks of sturdy trees and arms that looked strong enough to rip one of those giant California redwoods out of the ground by its roots. She had a large gnarled tree branch in her hand that she was using as a walking stick. But with the way she held it, I could tell that the woman in front of me would have no problems using it as a club against my head if she wanted to.
She narrowed her eyes at us but bowed her head low, her gaze never leaving mine, though she spoke to Rhys. “Why have you come to my forest, Iron Lover? Do you wish to die?”
“I have no fear of dying at your hands, Darinda.” He bowed.
She waved her stick at him menacingly, but she smiled. “Then perhaps you would like to give up your iron-mongering ways and join us?”
“While I have nothing but the greatest respect for your trees, we both know that the way of the forest is not meant for me,” Rhys said.
“So?” she asked. “Why are you here? And who are the tiny leaves you’ve brought along in your wake?”
“This is the crown princess. It seems your newest sapling is her friend.”
“Best friend,” I said before reaching out to grab Mercedes’s hand.
“Best friend.” Rhys bowed his head to me. “My apologies.”
“I expected the Fate Maker’s newest toy to be smaller. The last one was so tiny, after all.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” I glared first at Rhys and then at Darinda. “But this is the size I come in. I can slouch if you prefer, but either way, I’m not the Fate Maker’s plaything.”
“Are you not?” she asked. “The last Rose was. She simpered and preened, but in the end she did what she was told, no matter who was harmed.”
“Well, that was her, not me,” I snapped.
“You’ll be different? You’re just a girl.”
“And you’re nothing more than an overgrown tree sprite,” I shot back. “One that crumples at the merest touch of iron.”
“And you’ll be the one to wield that iron?”
“If I have a choice? No. But if I’m queen here then things are going to change, and I’ll do whatever’s necessary to stop anyone who gets in the way.”
“Change, will they? And what does the Fate Maker say to this?”
I glanced over my shoulder, hoping not to see anyone following us. I highly doubted the Fate Maker would try something with the lord general right there, but then again, I was pretty sure that the wizard was completely insane, so who knew?
“I didn’t ask his opinion.”
“You’re either exceptionally brave, my future queen,” she said with a grudging smile, “or incredibly stupid. Let’s hope it’s the former.”
Darinda clapped her hands, and the dryads seated around her shifted onto their knees, bending over so that their heads touched the ground, their hands outstretched, palms up in front of them.
White flowers bloomed from the other dryads’ hands, and Darinda’s began to sprout golden roses.
“Wow,” I murmured.
Darinda lifted her head, and the sides of her mouth twitched upward for a moment before she carefully schooled her features. “Wow, indeed, Princess. Now is there anything I can do for you? Or did you simply wish to peer at some of your odder subjects?”
“I…” What should I say? If I were Darinda I would hate having some teenage girl showing up to dictate orders to me in my own forest. Heck, I hated the guy giving me orders inside my castle, and I hadn’t been on the job nearly as long as Darinda had.
“Yes?” She raised a feathery, silver eyebrow at me.
“Would you mind if I spent some time with Mercedes today?”
“Mercedes? If the queen requests to spend her time with a dryad sapling, then who am I to refuse her?”
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
Instead of waiting for Mercedes to respond, Darinda turned and clapped her hands once more. The clan of dryads rose off the ground and returned to the forest, Darinda following.
“Well, that was interesting.” I grimaced as I watched them disappear into the shadows of the forest.
“She’s been really nice to me,” Mercedes said. I glanced over at her and raised an eyebrow. “But they’ve all been a bit jittery since they learned about a new Rose being brought through the book. They seem to think you showing up is a bad omen.”
“Tell them to join the club,” I said. “It seems like everyone’s either freaking out or trying to find a way to use me to their advantage.”
“Then we have to make sure that you’re in control of the situation,” Rhys chimed in. “Make sure that the advantage is still yours.”
“That might be easier said than done,” I said. “I’m not even supposed to be out here. The Fate Maker told me that if
I left the palace grounds he’d have me dragged back in chains.”
“Yeah, but I’d be the one holding the chains,” Rhys said.
“And that makes it less dangerous for me?” I asked.
“No.” He shook his head. “But the best thing we can do is figure out how to prepare you, and everyone else, for what the future might bring.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” Mercedes asked.
“We make her a warrior queen,” Winston said, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
“Precisely.” Rhys turned to Mercedes. “We take your princess, and we forge her into a leader so fierce that even the Pleiades tremble in the face of her wrath.”
I shivered at the intensity of his expression and tried to stay calm. Whatever he thought, I highly doubted that I’d ever be much of a warrior.
I could see Mercedes worrying—she knew I wasn’t a warrior, too. It was like the day she’d accidentally set the science lab on fire, and we’d both been sent to the principal’s office for it. We were in way over our heads, the look seemed to say, but at least we’re in it together.
“So, Rhys?” Mercedes said, her voice overly friendly, almost perky as she tried to change the subject.
“Yes, sapling of the Dryad Order?”
“Who are you? And why do you keep calling me sapling? Only the other dryads have called me that, and my guess is, from the sword you’re wearing, you’re not a worshipper of the Tree of Life.”
“I’m not, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are a sapling, an honored novice of the Dryad Order, and I am Lord Sullivan, defender of Her Majesty’s northern border and lord general of the Army of Nerissette.”
“Oh, yeah.” I nudged her shoulder. “Rhys has a thing for titles. He thinks everybody needs one.”
“Because everyone has one,” he said, “of some sort or another, even if it’s just farmer or peasant or exalted mother, but both of you have distinguished titles. You should be proud of them.”
“Yeah, well, blame it on being from Pennsylvania, but we’re not really big on the pomp and circumstance.”
“Ah yes, Americans. The accent should have been a tip-off.”
“Americans?” Mercedes asked. “How did you know that? I told three other dryads that I was from America, and none of them knew where it was. They kept asking if it was one of the lands over the mountain. One thought it might be where fever dreams come from.”
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