Monstrous (38 page)

A rustling in the trees behind me draws my attention away from Batu. A sweet scent, like honey, lingers on the air.

It is not safe here anymore. I must go, and so should you. Farewell.

“Good-bye.” I place my hand on his snout as Batu shimmers and fades, magic tickling my fingers. He is gone too quickly.

The hollowness inside of my chest expands. What if I fail to protect Bryre? What if I never see Batu again? Have I made the wrong choice?

Instinct flares, drowning out my doubts. Something is wrong in this forest. Something that scared away a dragon.

I need to get as far from this place as possible.

I gather up Emmy, and I run until the trees grow thinner and I can spread my wings. I must be close to the road by now.

I halt in my tracks. Voices and footfalls come from the direction I believe the road to be. Many people are traveling through the mountains today.

That is not normal.

As I sneak through the trees, I notice the men walk in a highly regular fashion.

It's an army. Headed directly to Bryre.

My blood curdles. Who would bring an army to Bryre? And why? King Ensel is dead—I should know, I killed him.

Barnabas. It must be him.

The uniforms the men wear are just like the ones the guards wear in Belladoma. Barnabas must've reached the city and rallied them as soon as Ensel's murder was discovered. But so quickly? It doesn't seem possible, yet here they are crawling through the mountains.

Magic. There is no other explanation. The speed at which the troops have overtaken me is unnatural.

I'll follow them, find out what they're about, then fly to Bryre to warn King Oliver. My real father. I will not let Bryre be massacred.

I need speed and stealth to warn Bryre before the army reaches them, so I find a place to bury Emmy's body—a grove filled with wild rosebushes. I think she'd like it, if she could see it. She looks so peaceful as I cover her with the earth, golden curls falling over her face. If not for the dark stain on her dress, she could be sleeping.

I regret that I can't bring her home. I hope Greta and her family will forgive me.

It is dark when the troops stop to set up camp. I circle the perimeter, staying just out of sight of the guards as I flutter between the trees. I must find the largest tent. The leader will be there. It's strange how memories return at the oddest moments. I know I've seen tents like this before—

The last time Belladoma came to Bryre. Of course. They attacked before I was born and came back again when I was Rosabel.

Perhaps Barnabas couldn't destroy the memories of the once-me; he only suppressed them. It's a powerful spell, whatever it is. But I am strong enough to overcome it.

The camp is set in a U shape at the base of a cliff. As I round another clump of trees, I catch a glimpse of a tent in the very center of the U, set near the rock wall of the cliff. It's bigger than the others and several guards stand at attention outside.

Whoever leads these men is in there. I fly out of the forest straight up the path leading to the cliff. If I can circle around them, I could sneak down the cliff unseen. My cloak is dark enough and they've placed no guards atop the cliff. Only a crazy person would try to sneak down from above.

That's exactly what I plan to do.

I lay my cloak on the ground, spreading it wide. With one claw I cut two foot-long slits in the back panel. My wings need to be free for this to work, but I'll want the cover, too. I secure the cloak around me, slipping my wings through the holes one at a time, and pull up the hood. My yellow cat's eyes slide into place. Black wings flap with anticipation. Claws clench. Tail winds.

I'm one with the darkness.

I'm ready.

I leap off the cliff and soar in a silent spiral to the lowest ledge. Shadowed figures move in the tent, but I'm too far away to hear any voices. I don't dare fly closer. The light of the fires would reveal my presence.

I'll have to scale the remaining distance of the cliff face.

Swinging my body over the ledge, I use my claws and tail to crawl down the last fifty feet.

Halfway there, voices resonate in the tent and I pause, clinging to sheer rock. They're almost familiar. My heart pounds as I risk a glance down. I hold my breath for a full minute to ensure no one is leaving and continue my descent. I hit the grass with relief.

I crouch behind the tent, on the small strip of earth between cliff and canvas. I hear them perfectly now and I peek under a flap. I jerk backward, clinging to the rock again, this time out of a desperate need to touch something solid and real.

Because what I just saw can't be real.

I killed him. I threw King Ensel off a cliff. Yet there he is, plotting inside his tent with Barnabas as though nothing happened. As though he were alive.

How can a dead man come back to life?

Barnabas. That evil wizard!

I was dead and he brought me back to life. Did he do the same with Ensel? Make him into some kind of monster? Or is this another spell that I know nothing about?

“We can take them here, through the back of the castle
walls.” Barnabas's words float through the canvas, chilling me to the core.

“What about your spell? It no longer holds?” Ensel asks.

I can hear the smile in Barnabas's voice. “Oh yes. I found a loophole. A person meaning Bryre harm cannot enter through any gate or go over or under any wall of the city. So I destroyed the wall.”

I have no doubt what he means. The rabid briar patch. It's been tearing apart the wall behind the palace for months. That's why Barnabas forbade me to investigate the monster plant.

“Brilliant. You're certain they'll be defenseless?” Ensel asks.

“Of course. They do not even patrol that area anymore. The forest is so thick no regular traveler would dare try to approach.”

“Then how will we?” A hint of irritation enters Ensel's tone.

Barnabas chuckles. “No normal traveler can level an entire forest with one spell either. My elemental magic can force things to grow fast, or slow so much they reverse.”

Ensel cackles. “You intend to ungrow a path through the forest for us?”

“Precisely. I hope to have a new influx of magic soon that will make it easy.”

The sound of a hand clapping a shoulder rings in my buzzing eardrums.

“You're an excellent ally, Barnabas. Remind me never to cross you. To your health.”

The shadows of two men toasting are cast onto the canvas. Bile threatens to choke me. I take off, straight up the cliff face. I no longer care who sees me. I'll fly due east to Bryre. No one can follow me that fast, not even on horseback.

This news cannot wait for stealth.

AS DAWN APPROACHES, I SOAR CLOSE TO BRYRE, LINGERING OVER THE
forest. The place I once wandered through with impunity is more intact than I expected. Whole tracts of land have been burned like scars on the earth, but the people of Bryre managed to save most of it. Perhaps the flames just looked larger and more frightening to me because I was so close to them.

I locate my old crossing point and verify the guards are not near. With satisfaction, I notice Oliver has doubled the guard. I leap to the ramparts and back down into the city in seconds. I run through the streets and alleys, the sun now risen over the walls. I know where to find Oliver.

It's the last place I wish to go. And filled with the last people who want to see me, I have no doubt.

It doesn't take me long to find the small cottage that
smells like bread and cinnamon. I bound up the steps, throw open the door, and march to Oliver's chair by the fire. Delia sits next to him, one hand resting on his arm, the other holding a small bowl of porridge. Ren and his family sit around the table. I kneel, ignoring their stalled conversation and shocked expressions. The lines on the king's face have doubled since I saw him last.

“I come with much grave news,” I say, never taking my eyes off Oliver. “But first I must know: did Greta and all the other girls arrived safely with Ren?” I've feared for them ever since I first saw the strange men wandering through the mountains. To my relief, Oliver nods.

“Yes, they arrived late last night. They said you'd be coming.”

“They didn't mention you might bust our door down in the process,” Laura says, earning a pointed glance from Oliver. Andrew places a hand on her arm that she shrugs off. Ren squirms, while Delia shyly swirls her spoon in her porridge.

“The king must hear all I have to say.” I tear my eyes away from Ren and Delia, and return my attention to Oliver. “King Ensel's army is camped in the mountains, heading straight for Bryre. They'll be here by tomorrow afternoon.”

Oliver sits straight up in his chair, brow creasing. “The girls said he died. They said”—he clears his throat—“you threw him into the ocean. That there was no way he could have survived.”

“That is true. I did. But somehow he still lives. I don't pretend to understand it. Barnabas is with him and he plans
to bypass his own spells by entering the castle through the wall the briar patch has torn down. It's a loophole in the spell.”

Oliver signals to Ren. “My boy, I'm afraid I must ask you to start delivering messages right now. Alert the council elders and have them rally our troops. Every able man must arm himself by dawn tomorrow.” The king stands. “We must prepare to meet the invaders. They won't have a chance to get close enough for the wizard's plan to work.”

Ren scribbles on a piece of paper.

“Wait,” I say, “there is more. Darrell the trader killed one of the girls on the road back. Her name was Emmy. I—I couldn't save her. Her family needs to know.”

A gasp slips out from Delia's lips, and Ren's father sets down his spoon. Oliver's hands clench into fists. “I am grieved to hear that. Darrell is a horrid man. We've had a price on his head for years.”

“You will not need to worry about him any longer,” I say. The king's eyes widen in surprise, but I detect a hint of approval, too.

“I know Emmy's brother and where her family lives. I'll deliver the news on my way back from alerting the council.” Ren finishes writing down his messages, then dashes out of the cottage.

I rise to my feet before Oliver. An odd, searching expression creeps over his face, and I wonder if Ren told him who I used to be. I fear if he knows, he won't like what I have to say next.

“I will help you defeat Ensel. And Barnabas.”

“My dear, I don't know that—”

“This is just as much my fight—more so, even—than anyone else's.”

Oliver considers me for a moment. He nods to Andrew, his steward. They head for the private chambers in the back of the cottage. Oliver gives Delia's shoulder a squeeze as he passes.

But before he turns away, I catch a glimpse of something new in his eyes.

Pride.

BY DAWN BELLADOMA'S TROOPS BEGIN TO APPEAR IN THE FOREST HILLS
above the main road. King Ensel and his army do not attempt to mask their approach. They don't need to. The hills and woods provide a natural defense, leaving no good place for King Oliver to make his stand. It will also make it harder for us to find our attackers.

But we have a plan.

Guards surround the city, most heavily at the spot where the briars and thorns consume the wall. Barnabas and Ensel will head straight for it. The king, myself, Ren, and a platoon of soldiers wait between the trees in front of the wall for them to arrive. Ren's parents guard Delia somewhere in the city. Now that she's home, Oliver will not risk her being taken a second time.

Our troops are heaviest at this spot, but we've also bolstered the men at the main gate and the eastern and western gates, just in case Barnabas tries something unexpected.

Since I returned to sound the alarm, Bryre's people have been preparing. Stockpiles of weapons were dragged out into the square for any able-bodied citizen to take up. Farmers, blacksmiths, and bakers alike joined the regular members of the guard. A pallor of grim resignation hovers on every face.