Flight of the King (3 page)

“Tremelo's right,” Phi said, putting her hand on Bailey's shoulder. “Come on, you haven't even been to your dorm yet.”

“I'll see you in homeroom,” Tremelo said, turning back to his desk. “Don't forget your iguana.”

Bailey picked Bert up and placed him on his good shoulder, where the lizard flopped and settled like a wet towel. He followed his friends from Tremelo's office.

“I don't understand him,” Bailey said as they crossed the commons toward the dorms. “The Dominae are coming here, and he
says
he has a plan—but why
won't he ask the RATS and the Velyn for help? They'd be here in the blink of an eye if he just told them who he was! And that stuff he said about the prophecy—‘maybe
there's a True King, maybe there isn't,' as if it weren't clear as day that
he's
the king!” As he spoke, he tried to ignore the humming pull he felt in
his chest, urging him toward the woods. Taleth was out there—but he couldn't even build his connection with her. Not yet.

“Tremelo's scared,” Hal said.

“And don't forget crazy,” murmured Tori.

Bailey sighed. He knew about being scared, and he also knew how overwhelming it felt to learn your true legacy. He was a Velyn—the Child of War—and Tremelo was a king. But even if
Bailey's Animas meant he was in danger, his real identity made him feel powerful and important. He couldn't understand why Tremelo didn't feel that same way upon learning he was
the son of a king. But Tremelo was right about one thing: with Viviana at the school, Bailey faced his greatest danger yet. He was the herald of the True King and the fulfillment of a prophecy that
Viviana would do anything to prevent. If she knew that he was the Child of War, she would have him killed without a second's hesitation. But still—did that really mean that he and his
friends could do nothing?

“This will cheer you up,” said Phi. “Come see the book's supersecret hiding place!” She smiled, and even Tori seemed pleased, as though she were about to pull the
perfect prank. They led the boys across the lawn where the Fairmount clock tower stood, and into the library.

Warm yellow light bathed the entryway, and Bailey smelled the homey aroma of a fire burning in a nearby study room. The girls turned into a large hallway off the main atrium and stopped at an
ornate display case. Behind the glass panes of the carved wooden bookshelf stood dozens of books with rich leather bindings and gold decorations on their spines.

“What am I looking at?” asked Bailey.

“If you can't even see it, then Tremelo was right!” whispered Tori. “Look up there.” She pointed toward the top shelf, in the left corner.

Bailey followed her gaze. Sitting just as if it belonged there was the Loon's book of prophecies.

“
Hiding in plain sight
, that's what Tremelo said when he put it here,” said Phi, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “This is a display of all the
first editions that were printed here at Fairmount when there used to be a working printing press.”

“Anybody would think that the book belongs here,” said Tori. “It's even safer than if we tried to hide it in Tremelo's office.”

“Let's hope so,” said Bailey, looking around the atrium as a group of Year Two girls walked through, giggling. He hated the idea that only a thin pane of glass stood between
the book and anyone who wanted to read it—including him. But Viviana was coming, and being caught with the Loon's book or the Seers' Glass would bring the full force of the
Dominae down on them. “Let's hope hiding in plain sight works for all of us.”

As they walked back out into the cold winter air, Phi tapped Bailey's shoulder.

“Meet me out by the Scavage fields in half an hour,” she whispered. “I have an idea.”

GWEN LOOSED AN ARROW
from the black walnut longbow Tremelo had given her. It missed the trunk of the tree she'd been aiming for, but snapped
several dead, dried leaves off a branch a few inches away. She was improving.

Behind her, three owls sat on the outer windowsill of the tree house where she'd been staying since the battle with Sucrette. The owls ruffled their feathers, swiveling their ghostly heads
in the direction of the Fairmount campus. From the trees, Gwen heard footsteps.

She pulled another arrow out of the quiver on her back, nocked it, and lowered the taut bow to her side.

Whit whit whoo
—she whistled.

The same whistle echoed back to her, with an added chirp at the end. Gwen eased her grip on the bow as Phi emerged from the trees, leading Bailey. His arm was still in a sling, and he had
several broken twigs in his sandy-colored hair. She saw something move under his coat—a scaly face nosed its way out of the top of his collar.

“Hi!” said Phi. She held a haddock sandwich wrapped in paper from the dining hall, which she handed to Gwen. Gwen thanked her, and nodded at Bailey.

“Breaking the rules already?” she asked. “You've only been back a day!” She knew Tremelo had forbidden him to leave campus. He'd demanded that she too stay
out of sight.

“I had to say hello, didn't I?” said Bailey. “Besides, I'm technically not off the grounds.”

Gwen smiled. She understood his restless energy—she felt it herself.

Bailey shifted the animal inside his coat so that Gwen could see it face-on.

“This is Bert,” he said. “My ‘kin.'”

“I guess if I had to pick the opposite of a white tiger, that'd be it.” Gwen laughed.

“Let's go inside, it's freezing out here,” said Phi. Gwen was glad to usher them into the safety of the tree house; it was risky enough having someone bring food, but two
of them were practically a parade. She led them up a set of footholds in the trunk of the tree, and through a trapdoor that led into a cozy room, built around the oak. It was used by the Biology
and the Bond class in the warmer months, for the students to observe forest life, but during the winter it sat unused. Arched windows lined the hexagonal space.

Bailey passed the iguana to Phi, who held him in the crook of her arm, as he pulled himself through the trapdoor.

“When do you get to take the sling off?” Gwen asked him.

“Next week,” he said, “whether it's done healing or not. Can't have a visible injury when Viviana's around.”

Gwen set the bow and arrows down next to her pallet, and twisted a lock of her short red hair in her fingers. She too was anxious about Viviana's impending visit. She wondered what the
Elder would do if he were here. Try to confront Viviana, maybe, or persuade Tremelo to gather the Velyn and move against her.

“You've been here all alone?” Bailey asked her, taking in the stark tree house.

“I've been visiting her,” said Phi. She set Bert on the ground, where he looked around once, and then closed his eyes and seemed to fall asleep.

“Phi's been bringing me food, and books from Tremelo,” Gwen said.

“While Tremelo does what?” Bailey asked. “Sit in his office tinkering away?”

Gwen cocked her head like a bird's and looked at him closely. She hadn't seen Bailey since he'd left school for break. He had been excited about his Awakening then, and eager
to do more to help the kingdom. Now she saw the way his eyebrows knit close together and the way his eyes cast down to the floor as though pulled there by heavy thoughts. She knew the feeling well.
Being cooped up in a tree house, all alone, made her miss the Elder even more. She looked sadly at the leather box that contained Melore's harmonica; it sat on top of the small pile of books
Phi had brought her. She hadn't played it for weeks for fear of drawing attention.

“Tremelo's worried,” Bailey said, “and there's a lot to be worried about—but that shouldn't mean that we do nothing.”

Bailey glanced at Phi, and Gwen saw Phi nod slightly, as though encouraging him.

“Did you two have something in mind?” Gwen asked.

Bailey sat up straighter.

“It's a lot to ask,” he said. “But we need someone to trail Viviana while she's here. Tremelo won't do it—”

“And we can't very well leave class to keep an eye on her the whole time,” said Phi.

Gwen bit her lip, thinking. She hadn't told Bailey and the others yet about her previous encounter with Viviana, at the Dominae rally where Grimsen the owl was killed. They didn't
know that Viviana had seen her, and might recognize her. But did that matter, when she could stay out of sight? Her new friends needed her help.

“You're the only person who can do it,” said Phi. “We can't trust anyone else.”

“I can try,” Gwen said. “Tremelo will be upset.”

“I know,” said Bailey. “But he's scared. He doesn't want to take any risks—and this might be the only chance we'll have to figure out what Viviana
knows.”

“That's true,” said Gwen. “And we still don't know the extent of Sucrette's influence here in the school. She could have left all kinds of clues for the next
spy to come along—or for Viviana herself.” This was a dangerous plan, she knew. But she couldn't help feeling that the Elder would be disappointed if he saw how she was hiding.
For him, she would take the risk.

“Thank you,” said Bailey. “We know it's not going to be easy.”

“But be careful. We have no idea what to expect,” Phi said solemnly.

I do, thought Gwen. She remembered her heart beating frantically at the Dominae rally as she watched Viviana command two bears that were not her own kin. And she could still hear the clatter of
Grimsen's body, shot through with a metal arrow, hitting the stone floor of that theater. She cast a glance at her own bow and arrows lying on the floor of the tree house. She could never use
it to hurt the kin of another person—not out of sheer malice. But Viviana was different. She wouldn't think twice. And for all she knew, Viviana could be looking for her as well as for
the Child of War. But that was a risk she'd have to take.

“I'll have to keep the Glass on me,” Gwen said. “It wouldn't be safe left here alone.”

At her mention of the Glass, Bailey lifted his head and smiled hopefully.

“Do you want to see it?” Gwen asked him. His smile grew wider. Even the iguana stirred, as if he really were sensing Bailey's anticipation. Bert licked his lips.

“If that's okay,” Bailey said.

Gwen crossed to the center of the small room, where the ancient oak that supported the tree house sprouted up through the floor. She reached into a hollow knot in the tree's side and drew
out a parcel wrapped in a piece of wolf's pelt. The Velyn had given it to her after the Elder's death—they were the only people in the kingdom she knew of who used fur for any
purpose. It was a sacred, important thing. She unwrapped the pelt, and there was the Glass. Its many gleaming angles shone in the light from the surrounding windows.

Bailey exhaled as he looked at it, and allowed his tensed shoulders to relax.

“And what if someone comes looking for it here?” he asked.

Gwen held out a tarnished silver coin in her other hand. It was an old beetleback, from Melore's reign, with an embossed image of a spindly-legged bug on both sides.

“Tremelo gave me this,” she said. “If I sense danger, I'm to take the Glass and run. I'll leave this in its place as a message I'm safe.” She hoped it
would never come to that.

Phi gazed over Bailey's shoulder at the Glass, then smiled at Gwen.

“We'd better get back,” she said. “Want anything new from the library next time?”

Gwen shook her head.

“Nope,” she said. “But if you come across any blueberry tarts, I'd take one of those.”

“Consider it done,” said Phi.

Bailey eased his way down the footholds first, with Bert riding on his back. Phi paused before following him.

“I'll see you soon,” Phi said. “And thank you, again.”

“It's nice to feel needed,” said Gwen. She felt herself blushing at this confession.

“Be safe,” cautioned Phi, and disappeared through the trapdoor, out into the winter cold.