by Joel Ross
Ji’s heart shriveled like a frightened raisin. “Oh, no,” he breathed. “Proctor and Ioso.”
“Here?” Chibo asked. “Where? Do they look mad?”
“They don’t look happy,” Sally growled.
“Stay there!” Ji shouted, his voice wavering with panic.
“Don’t worry.” Brace paused on the walkway. “I just want to talk.” He called over his shoulder. “You soldiers, stay back!”
“Back is good,” Ji murmured. “But we still need to buy time for the water to fall.”
“So keep him talking,” Roz said. “And I’ll watch the pool.”
“Okay!” Ji called to Brace, sloshing onto dry ground. “We’re listening.”
Brace raised a finger, telling Proctor, Mr. Ioso, and the twins to wait as he strolled along the walkway. “Look at you, Ji. What are you? A snake?” Brace’s blue gaze flicked to Roz. “And you’re even worse, Roz. You’re big and thick . . . and is that a horn? You’re a rhino.”
When Roz ducked her head in shame, Ji felt a hot barb of anger.
“But you don’t have to stay this way,” Brace continued, his voice chiming with hope. “The queen can change you back. Her Majesty will make you human again.”
“She’s trying to kill us,” Ji said. “You’re trying to kill us.”
“Not me!” Brace said. “I swear on my parents, Ji, I didn’t know the Rite was going to kill you. Proctor never told me.”
“Yeah, well . . .” Ji shifted his weight. “Then why’re you chasing us?”
“Because we need you,” Brace told him. “But we don’t need your deaths. There’s another way.”
“What’s that?” Sally called.
“The water’s low enough,” Roz murmured.
“And smells like oyster armpit,” Chibo added.
“Instead of fighting me,” Brace said, “serve me.”
“We’re not servants,” Ji told him. “Not anymore. Chibo, jump!”
Three things happened at once:
First, Chibo swooped toward the center of the pool.
Second, Brace raised his arms and said, “You will serve the realm.”
And third, the whirlpool froze in midwhirl.
The water thickened, like the pond in the pavilion. Chibo hit the surface with a thump and lay there moaning and rubbing his side.
“The Diadem Rite gave Lord Brace power,” Roz gasped, her hand pressing her chest. “He turned the pool solid.”
42
“DON’T KILL THE creatures.” Proctor stalked closer with the twins, while the soldiers waited farther back. “We need them alive.”
“Don’t worry,” Lady Nosey said, with a razor edge in her voice. “We’ll just wound them at little.”
She fired her crossbow: schwap!
The bolt flew at Ji, and fear turned his knees boneless. He stood there like a lump of fat—until Roz shoved him out of the way. He stumbled sideways, and instead of piercing his leg, the bolt shattered against Roz’s calf.
“Please, my lady,” Roz said. “Let’s not resort to physical viol—”
Schwap, schwap! Two more bolts broke against Roz, and Lady Nosey said, “Keep your grunts to yourself.”
“Save a few for the goblin thing,” Lord Pickle told his sister, glaring at Sally.
“She’s not a goblin,” Ji said.
“And she’s certainly not a thing,” Roz rumbled.
“She’s a hobgoblin,” Ji said. “And she’s about to kick you cross-eyed.”
Sally launched forward from behind him. She landed on Roz’s shoulder, then bounded at Nosey and Pickle. Another crossbow bolt flew, but Sally plucked it from the air and hurled it at Proctor, who was throwing his dagger at Roz.
Proctor ducked and his dagger missed Roz by inches, then buried itself hilt-deep in a boulder. A chill touched Ji. That was no ordinary dagger.
“It’s a magic knife!” Chibo piped. “Watch out, Roz!”
Ji hefted a piece of driftwood. He gulped as Mr. Ioso’s fists started glowing white, and he made himself step beside Roz. He didn’t know to fight, but he knew how to try.
“Please,” Roz begged, spreading her four-fingered hands. “Can’t we discuss this like rational—”
“Freaks?” Lord Pickle asked. “Beasts?”
“I’m sorry,” Brace told Ji, swinging his sword. “If you won’t serve me willingly—”
“I beg you, Lord Brace,” Roz said. “Surely we can—”
“Roz!” Ji raised his driftwood to block the sword. “Less talking and more trolling!”
“If you even touch the prince,” Proctor warned, “you shall pay dearly.”
“You’re the prince now?” Ji asked Brace.
“One day I’ll be king,” Brace said, shifting his grip on his sword. “And Roz is right—there’s no need for this. Pledge yourselves to me and—”
“Stay still, you filthy squirrel!” Lady Nosey snarled, stabbing at Sally.
Sally backflipped away, hurling a rock at Nosey’s forehead with one foot. Thunk. Nosey dropped to her knees. A howling Lord Pickle attacked, his blade a blur of slashes. Sally twirled and leaped and punched him in the eye. He fell and—
A beam of white light struck Sally. The impact slammed her to the floor. The light recoiled to Mr. Ioso’s fists, and a palm tree withered behind him.
Sally lay still, her fur singed . . . and Proctor kicked her in the side.
“Bad Proctor!” Chibo’s wings glowed as brightly as an emerald sun. “You get away from her!”
Brace recoiled from the blinding light while Proctor raised a hand to shield his face.
“You’re being terribly rude!” Roz roared, and leaped through the green glare to backhand Proctor.
Her blow struck his chest with a meaty thud. His beard shook and his mouth opened in a scream as he was flung through the air and slammed into Mr. Ioso. They tumbled off the walkway together, dropping in a tangle to the mucky bank of the half-empty, fish-stinking pool.
The light dimmed as Chibo fell exhausted to his knees, and Brace pointed his sword at Ji. “I’m trying to save the realm!”
“I’m trying to save us,” Ji said.
“This isn’t about you, Ji,” Brace said solemnly. “It’s not about me, either. It’s about the survival of humankind.”
“I guess you just got lucky, huh?” Ji asked. “Humankind needs you in a crown, but it wants us in chains.”
“Look around.” Brace gestured toward the soldiers on the walkways, waiting for the command to attack. “You have a good eye for strategy, Jiyong. You know you can’t fight a whole army.”
“We can fight them,” Ji said.
“But you can’t beat them.”
“There’s more to life than winning,” Ji said.
“And you can’t get away, not with the water frozen.”
“So unfreeze it and let us go.”
“I can’t. I need you. We need you. You know me, Ji.” Brace’s voice sounded raw and honest. “Join me. Please. I’m not asking as the new heir, I’m asking as an old friend. How many hours did we spend in my room, fighting ogres and goblins?”
“Lots,” Ji said. “Lots of hours.”
“I know what it’s like to be weak.” Brace looked to Roz. “I know what it’s like to be bullied. How many kings can say that?”
“Not many,” Roz said.
“Am I cruel?” Brace asked. “Am I greedy?”
“You never used to be,” Ji said.
“I haven’t changed,” Brace said. “I’m still me.”
“If we join you, Prince Brace,” Roz rumbled, “will Her Majesty truly reverse the effects of the Rite?”
“She will,” Brace promised, and sheathed his blade. “She’ll turn you human again.”
Ji glanced at Roz and saw the longing and hope in her eyes.
“There’s a long war being fought between humans and beasts,” Brace said, “and the Summer Crown is our only defense. It’s the only thing keeping the monsters from killing us all
. There’s exactly one way to save the realm. Exactly one way to save every crafter and clerk and farmer, every mother and father and child.”
“Yeah,” Ji said. “And that way is ‘finish sacrificing us to the water tree.’”
“No!” Brace said. “No, that was wrong, that was terrible.”
“We didn’t like it much, either,” Sally growled, limping closer, holding hands with Chibo.
“Pledge yourselves to me,” Brace said. “Serve me. Help me.”
“And if we do,” Ji said, “the queen will break the spell?”
“You have my word,” Brace told him.
Nobody spoke for a moment. The trickle of water in the garden mixed with the creak of the soldiers’ armor. Ji watched Lady Nosey and Lord Pickle on the other side of the pond, helping a muddy Proctor drag a limping Mr. Ioso onto a walkway.
“Being servants isn’t so bad,” Sally growled.
“It’s not freedom,” Chibo fluted.
Ji looked to Roz. He needed to talk to her, he needed to tell her what he feared. She returned his gaze steadily. Maybe reassuring him, maybe encouraging him. Maybe just trusting him.
When Ji ducked his head, his gaze dropped to Brace’s court boots: the stingray leather, the gleaming turquoise, clusters of garnets, topazes, and fire opals. And two sparkly new baubles, glittering with emeralds, rubies, and pearls.
With an aching hunger, Ji wanted them.
For a long moment, he stood there, feeling this sudden craving. Whatever he did right now might save him and Roz, Sally and Chibo, and even Nin—or kill them all. He thought about battling ogres with Brace, and sacrificing knights. He thought about friendship and honor and betrayal.
Then he fell to his knees.
He dropped his forehead to the walkway, inches in front of Brace’s jewel-encrusted boots, and said, “We’ll join you, my prince. We’re yours to command.”
43
“MOVE IN!” PROCTOR shouted. “Separate them from the prince! We need them alive!”
“Alive is good,” Chibo whispered. “Maybe we’ll be freed later, right?”
Still kowtowing, Ji didn’t answer. He just clenched his scaly fists and listened to his heart thumping in his chest.
The soldiers swarmed, shouting and scowling. Two yanked Ji to his feet and dragged him to the edge of the pool. Ten more shoved the others beside him, their faces masks of fear and hatred.
Proctor limped beside Brace while Ji waited with a reptile stillness. Thoughts rose and fell in his mind: the outstanding question, the price of freedom. A water tree, a mermaid, a treasure hoard. A servant, a dragon, and a pair of stupid boots.
“We agreed to serve you, my lord Brace,” Roz rumbled, bowing her head. “And we shall abide by our agreement.”
“Because we have honor,” Sally growled.
“You’re peasants,” Proctor said with a chilly chuckle. “You don’t need honor, only obedience.”
“This is how you’ll serve me,” Brace said, his voice ringing out. “And how you’ll serve the realm. . . .”
He raised his arms, and water spouted from the center of the pool. The geyser twisted and coiled, braiding into a gnarled trunk, then branching into a tree. It was half the size of the one in the Forbidden Palace but still towering, deadly, and magical.
“H-how?” Chibo stammered to Brace, his wings shrunken into his hunchback. “Serve you how, m-m’lord?”
“A king must make hard choices.” Brace turned his palms upward. “He must protect the many by sacrificing the few.”
Branches of the water tree lengthened, sharpening into spears. The largest one flowed toward Roz—then paused like a cobra ready to strike.
Blood simmered in Ji’s head and his pulse thudded in his fists.
“At Prince Brace’s whim,” Proctor told them, “the tree will pierce you and complete the rite, securing Brace’s place as prince once and for all. The realm will be safe in the hands of its rightful heir.”
“You—” Roz looked in horror at Brace. “You said you wanted us to join you.”
“And so you shall,” Brace told her, a hint of sadness in his voice. “Your spirits will strengthen mine. And Roz, you won’t be a monster any longer.”
“You will die,” Proctor said, “that the prince may live.”
“I’m sorry,” Brace said, his eyes wet with tears. “I’m so sorry.”
“My lord prince,” Proctor said, “finish this.”
When Brace moved his hands, the water tree shifted. Sally growled, and the silvery branches drew back to strike.
“You . . . you lied to us!” Roz told Brace.
And Ji finally spoke. “He’s not the only one.”
44
“WE’RE NOT YOURS to command,” Ji told Brace, and opened his fists to show two boot baubles, glittering with emeralds, rubies, and pearls.
“Those—” Brace looked at his court boots. “Those are mine!”
“He took them when he kowtowed,” Chibo fluted in surprise.
“You want to know why dragons hoard treasure?” Ji asked Roz, drawing on the heat of the gems in his hands. “Because we need jewels to make fire.”
Lava surged through his arms to his chest, rising like a volcano into his head. The world turned red, and Proctor screamed, “Take them, prince, now! Kill them!”
The water spear thrust toward Roz—and pillars of flame erupted from Ji’s eyes and roared across the pool.
Brace stiffened in terror, and the water spear stopped inches from Roz. Sally tackled Chibo away from another branch while Proctor jumped in front of the flames to protect Brace—and a shield of Mr. Ioso’s white light crackled into place around both of them.
Ji’s flames dimmed when they struck the shield. A palm tree withered behind Mr. Ioso, and he fired arrows of white light at Ji.
Sally bounded forward to protect Ji. But for once, he didn’t need protection. The gems turned to coals in his fists and the flames erupting from his eyes burned the arrows into vapor. More tree limbs slashed at him, but he swept his gaze in a burning arc, shriveling the branches with lashes of flame.
Proctor prowled closer, his dagger held high. When Ji blasted him, the blade absorbed the fire. Ji poured more heat into his flames—and iron darts whipped past his ear. He grunted in alarm and swept his fiery gaze around the pool, scattering soldiers and dart throwers. A palm tree exploded into flames and one of Brace’s sleeves caught fire.
Mr. Ioso raised his white-light shield and Brace clenched his fists—
“Ji!” Roz rumbled. “Watch out!”
When Ji spun sideways, a water spear thrust past his shoulder. He unleashed another barrage of flames, but Proctor still battled closer, his beard smoldering and his eyes as black as death.
“On my honor!” Sally growled, bounding at Proctor. “You shall not touch him!”
Her ears flat against her furry head, she vaulted one writhing tree limb, hurdled another—and a bolt of white light blasted her. She staggered, blood trickling down her snout. The tip of a thrusting water spear pierced her side—and Roz scooped her into her granite-flecked arms.
Proctor slashed at Roz, opening a cut on her forearm with his red-glowing dagger. “Kill the snake first, my prince!” he snarled.
Brace thrust two more water spears at Ji. One tore through the air an inch from Ji’s head, and he blasted the other one before trying to force Proctor backward with whips of fire. Flames licked at Proctor’s jacket and his hand blistered on his dagger, but he kept coming.
Roz bellowed, “Sally—knees, knees!”
Which, frankly, didn’t help. Even as a volcano spewed from his eyeballs, Ji wondered what in the moons Roz was babbling about.
Proctor blocked a column of flame, then loomed in front of Ji. A watery branch unfurled behind Ji, cutting off his retreat. As Proctor sliced toward his throat, the water spear thrust at Ji’s spine and—
“Now!” Roz yelled.
A furball rammed into the back of Ji’s knees. He sprawled to the
ground just as the branch surged forward in a killing strike. It flashed over his head and stabbed Proctor in the chest.
Brace shrieked and Proctor gasped. The skin on his face wrinkled. His teeth lengthened and fused together. His shirt bulged—and two belly-arms burst through the silk.
Turning him into a goblin.
The Diadem Rite drained Proctor’s life, and his humanity flowed into Brace. He shrank and writhed, turning into a misshapen goblin. Finally, the branch withdrew from his chest, and he crumpled lifelessly to the ground.
“Stab the beasts!” Mr. Ioso bellowed. “Kill them!”
“I will protect the realm.” Brace’s words carried over the crackle of flames and the shouts of soldiers. “I will protect my people. Whatever the cost.”
Mr. Ioso’s eyes glowed white. “You’ll never take the throne while they live!”
“Then they shall die,” Brace said, his silver diadem glimmering.
He seemed to shine with purpose: more real than real, more human than human. He raised his arms and dozens of branches surged from the water tree; an unstoppable flood, an onslaught of spears.
Ji heard the roar of a thousand dragons. His flesh turned to lava, his mind turned to flames. He gathered all his fear and rage—all his love and hope—into one scorching glare. But instead of blasting the branches, he aimed at the trunk of the watery tree.
The blackened gems burned to ash in his fists and the tree boiled into vapor. Every branch, every twig, every inch of the tree frothed into an unearthly white mist. The world turned silver and scalding. Soldiers screamed curses, Brace shouted orders, water hissed and spewed. Steam billowed, blindingly thick.
Ji couldn’t see—he couldn’t stand. The pool wobbled and he fell to his knees on the rippling surface, a husk of himself, exhausted but unburned.
“This way!” Chibo fluted, hidden by the billowing steam. “Follow me!”
“You can’t see!” Sally said.
“My wings can feel the way!”
“Stay close!” Roz said, and Ji felt her four-fingered hand wrapping his arm. “I have Ji.”
The pool turned to jelly beneath them. “Nin,” he gasped.
“I have the urn too,” Roz said, dragging Ji through the fog.