Evanescent (11 page)

“I can’t. You’re the queen, and you have a job to do.”

“And I’m doing it,” I protested.

“So let me do mine. I am a dragon and that means I need to be in the sky with my clan.”

“But—”

“Try to get some sleep, Allie.” Winston looked me in the eye. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

“What if something happens to—”

He kissed me one last time before following Ardere out of the garden and toward the aerie.

“Be safe,” I said quietly as I watched him leave. I pressed my fingers to my lips and closed my eyes, focusing every ounce of my being on the wish I was making. “Please be safe.”

Chapter Twelve

Early the next morning I sat on a bench next to my window, staring out at the labyrinth, and waited for the sun to come up. Winston and the dragon scouts hadn’t made it back to the palace yet and I couldn’t sleep. Not until I saw them on the horizon and heard them landing in the gardens. Until I knew that none of the warriors who had gone out there had died.

So instead I’d paced. Then, when pacing had gotten to be too much, I’d cleaned out my closet. Then I’d organized the soaps in the bathroom. Anything to keep busy. Anything to keep my mind off the dragons who were putting themselves in danger in my name.

I looked at the bracelet on my wrist and shook my head. A fire a million times hotter than the combined breaths of all the dragons… But according to everything I’d seen in the library there was nothing in Nerissette hotter than the fire of a dragon. Nothing. Not even the legends of the Firas—the fire worshippers who lived in the southern part of Nerissette—hinted at anything hotter than the flames of a dragon.

I sat at the dressing table and glanced at my jewelry box. I undid the clasp on the crystal necklace Winston had given me and placed it inside. Then I looked over at the container my crown was kept in, a box that only the Fate Maker and I could open. It was such an obvious place to hide it I had to hope that he wouldn’t look there. But at the same time, the box was imbued with magic. It would keep the tear safe.

I dropped the bracelet into the box and slammed the lid shut. “I don’t know how exactly you work,” I said to the box, trying not to feel stupid talking to an inanimate object. “But I think your fate and mine pretty much depend on you not opening up again for anyone but me. So if the Fate Maker, or anyone else, tries to open you…”

The box began to vibrate against my fingers like it could understand me.

“Slam your lid down on their fingers hard enough to break the bones,” I whispered. The box began to hum even stronger then, like it enjoyed the idea. Apparently, my bed wasn’t my only bloodthirsty belonging.

I walked into my closet, leaving the door open behind me, and brushed past the dresses that lined the walls. I reached for the plain brass door handle at the end of the room, turning it and letting the door swing open.

Heidi’s room. Or her cell, as she’d called it.

The room was plain, barely big enough to hold a bed and a hook for her clothes. There wasn’t even a window, but it held the only furniture in my tower that would allow her to sleep on it. The only room that wouldn’t slam its door in her face. The only place in my entire palace that made her feel at home.

I sat down on her lumpy bed and sighed. I should have done more to help her adjust. To protect her. She’d been trapped here because of me and I should have done more to keep her safe.

The changes we’d faced here in Nerissette had been hardest on Heidi. She’d gone from being most popular person in our class to picking up after the girl she’d spent years bullying. She had to bow and scrape to someone she’d tortured just because she could get away with it.

Part of me had wanted to torture her back when we’d gotten here. I’d wanted to make her life as miserable as she’d made mine. Everyone in the school had worshipped her, and she had everything she’d ever wanted. But when the time came and our roles were reversed, I couldn’t make her feel as small and insignificant as she had made me feel every day. I just couldn’t.

I reached for her pillow, and my hand brushed against something underneath it. I tossed the pillow to the foot of the bed and found the pile of stuff stacked underneath it. The clothes Heidi had been wearing when we arrived. Her cell phone. Lip gloss. A mirror to check her makeup.

I reached for her cell phone and turned it on, surprised to see that it still had a charge. Her phone beeped and her wallpaper lit up. It was a picture of her and Jesse at Kennywood, the amusement park less than twenty minutes from school where we always had our end-of-the-year school trips, smiling for the camera with a roller coaster in the background. I stared at the picture of our home, my heart clenching as I remembered how much easier it had been back then. Back when Heidi was still the queen bee and the world made sense.

I flipped through her photo folder, ruthlessly invading her privacy in a way that would’ve mortified me if the tables were turned, but right now I wanted to see what our world, the world that made sense, had been like for Heidi. Inside were pictures of her with the other cheerleaders, her parents, a little boy I thought might be her younger brother. And hundreds of pictures of Jesse. Jesse at football games. Jesse at the movies, playing soccer. Pictures of the two of them at last year’s spring formal.

Her life had been filled with Jesse—a guy who had dumped her for me the minute our roles were reversed. Not that I’d wanted Jesse. Sure, he was the hottest guy in school, but he wasn’t my type—he wasn’t tall or dark or able to turn himself into a large black dragon. I felt a small stab of sadness in my heart as I looked at her pictures, though. He’d told me once that I didn’t know how rough Heidi really had it, and I’d laughed at him. As far as I could see she’d had the perfect guy, the perfect family, and the perfect life. Now, though, looking at her pictures of the “perfect guy” and remembering how he’d treated her, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been right. I’d had no idea what sort of crap she was going through.

“I’m sorry,” I said as I turned the phone off, saving the last of her phone battery for no real reason besides the fact it seemed like the right thing to do. “I’m really, really sorry. No matter how crappy you were to me I didn’t want you to die.”

I took a deep breath. Sorry wasn’t going to do either of us any good right now. I set the phone down on the pile of her stuff and dropped the pillow back on top of it. I shuffled back into the closet, closing the door to Heidi’s room behind me, and stopped at the rack of flimsy shoes in the corner. Standing on tiptoes, I grabbed the gold shoes that I’d worn for my coronation and pulled the right heel down carefully.

Flipping the shoe over, I felt inside the toe and fished out the shard of mirror that I’d hidden inside it. Another one of my lies. My mother had been on the other side of that mirror—the Fate Maker was right, there was no way I was going to destroy my last link to her. No matter how risky it was to keep.

I tried to focus my mind on Gran Mosely, watching the mirror go dark and spiral through the other woman’s memories before it settled on the image of my foster mother, sitting on her couch with a blanket on her legs.

“Roberta?” I heard a voice call out, and I knew it was Mr. Wapperly from down the road. He and Gran Mosely had dated before she’d taken me in, and I knew from watching them in the mirror that if I hadn’t been there the two of them would’ve ended up together. “Do you want some popcorn?”

“No, thanks, Frank,” Gran Mosely replied. “You know—”

“If I eat late at night it gives me heartburn,” I said at the same time she did.

Gran perked up and looked around, confused.

“Roberta?” Frank Wapperly called out, his voice closer this time. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Fine.” She shook her head. “I thought I heard something. Must be my imagination playing tricks on me.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“It was nothing.” She glanced at the front windows and started to get up before stopping and sitting back down again, turning to look away from me, toward the kitchen. “Some bleed-through noise from the street. Nothing important. I’m just being a goose.”

“Well, come on then, Mother Goose.” A hand appeared and Gran Mosely took it, letting him help her off the couch. “Let’s get you tucked in bed before any more nursery rhymes decide to haunt you tonight.”

“Good night, Gran,” I whispered as he led her away, my heart catching in my throat as she turned her head to look back at me, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror, even though she couldn’t see me.

“Roberta?” Mr. Wapperly asked.

“It’s nothing.” She shook her head and started up the stairs, glancing back over her shoulder one last time. “Must have just been a shadow.”

“Sleep well.” I ran my finger over the mirror’s face and the reflection went blurry.

I closed my eyes and focused on my mother, trying to picture her in my mind. The mirror vibrated, humming lightly, and when I opened my eyes her memories played across the shard’s surface. The day I was born. The first time she sang on stage. Bright flowers flashed across it, and as they faded away, the image of my mother lying in her hospital bed appeared. The reflection was dark, and the only light in the room was a faint glow over the sink. I heard the
beep
of monitors and the
whoosh
of the machine that breathed for her. Tilting the mirror, I stared at my mother, her dark hair laid out on the pillow in a neat braid, and her eyes closed like they always were. Her blue hospital gown looked fresh, and heavy white blankets were tucked in around her.

“Mom?” I tried not to cry as I stared at the unconscious woman in the mirror.

Why couldn’t she be in a coma there and ruling Nerissette here? Why couldn’t she be around to give me advice? It wasn’t like there were any pressing plans on that side of the mirror to keep her occupied. If Esmeralda could visit people in their dreams why couldn’t my mom? Why couldn’t she be here with me?

A flash of anger at the unfairness of it all shot through me, and I tightened my grip on the mirror. The jagged edges dug into the palm of my hand like a sharp bite. I jerked my fingers open, letting the glass fall to the floor.

I stared at the gash in my hand and bit my lower lip. Man, it stung—and it was bleeding. Bad enough that I was pretty sure I would need a bandage. Which meant I was going to have to come up with some lie about how I’d hurt myself. More lies. More deception. More secrets. It seemed like that was all my life was made up of anymore.

The beads of blood had quickly become a stream, and I forgot all about concocting an excuse as I focused on finding a way to stop the bleeding. I clenched my hand around the cut, and reached down to shove the mirror shard back into my shoe and slip it back into its place.

“Your Majesty?” I heard someone call out from my bedroom. “Your Majesty, where are you?”

“Timbago? What is it?” I hurried out, still clutching my hand to my chest and trying not to get blood on my tunic.

The goblin pursed his lips and stepped forward, peering at my hand. He extended his arm toward me, twitching his gnarled fingers, and I placed my hand in his.

A faint warmth jolted through my body, and when it faded my hand no longer throbbed. The skin was clean and completely healed, like I’d never even cut it. Sort of cool. Or scary, if you thought about the fact that a goblin could do that sort of magic. But ultimately cool.

“Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure, Your Majesty.” He bowed his head. “Although, I regret to inform you that you are needed in the throne room.
Immediately.
”

“In the throne room? Now? Why?”

“The dragon scouts have returned, Your Majesty.” He dipped his head again and then looked up, his red-rimmed eyes meeting mine.

“What about Winston? He’s with them, isn’t he?” I watched Timbago turn to my dressing table. He ran his finger over my jewelry box and I watched as it began to hum. He whispered something to the box and I watched stunned as the lid slid back, opening for him. He reached inside the now-open box and began to flick aside various bits of jewelry before he picked up the crystal necklace I’d been wearing earlier.

“He’s with them, Your Majesty.” His voice was low and breathy, and he grabbed the crystal and held it before his eyes, his green tongue coming out to swipe at his chapped lips. “The crown prince is fine.”

“Timbago?” I stepped closer, surprised to see the goblin rocking on his heels and humming as he looked at the crystal, his eyes fixed on it as he licked his lips again.

“You should take this with you.” He stuck his hand out straight, keeping his head turned, so that the necklace dangled in front of me from his outstretched hand. “Keep it hidden if you can.”

“Why?”

“It will keep you safe.”

“The necklace?” Confusion clouded my mind, and the room seemed like it was fading away. Like the picture had gone hazy and my mind was disappearing along with it, making it hard to concentrate on anything as my head spun. “This isn’t the tear,” I pushed out. “It’s just a necklace that Winston gave me for my coronation. A gift from the dragons.”

“Keep it with you. The magic woven into the stone will protect you.”

“What magic?” I asked. “The necklace doesn’t have magic.”

“Forget about the necklace and the stone’s magic.” Timbago’s eyes swirled a brilliant green instead of their usual mud-brown color. My brain had trouble focusing on him again, the world going in and out of focus. “Forget that you are wearing it and go on about your duties.”

“But—”

“Forget about the necklace. Focus instead on the Fate Maker. Focus on the battle to come.”

“Of course.” I put the necklace on, dropping the stone inside my shirt where no one would see it. “I’ll forget about the necklace.”

“Keep it hidden,” Timbago warned me.

“I will.”

“Now.” Timbago grabbed my hand and turned it palm up. “Forget all of this. I’ve healed your hand, and now you can go meet the dragon warriors in the throne room. That’s what I’m doing now. I’m healing your hand.”

“You already—”

“I’ll heal your hand, and we won’t tell anyone about this,” he said, his bright eyes still boring into mine, muddling my mind. “You don’t want them to know about the shard you kept. It’s not time for them to know. Not yet.”

“How did you…?” I tried to focus. “The mirror shard, I’ve kept it hidden. Secret.”

“The shard is secret. Between me and you alone, Your Majesty. Now is not the time for anyone else to know. Not even the dragon.”

My mind cleared suddenly, like I was waking up from a long night’s sleep, and I shook my head, trying to focus. “Timbago? What are you doing here?

Timbago smiled at me. “You’re needed in the throne room, Your Majesty. The dragon scouts have returned.”