Flight of the King Read online

  “We must assume that Sucrette sent word to Viviana about the Child of War, even if she didn’t name you, Bailey,” Tremelo went on as he bent down and unlatched the door of the cage. “So the Dominae will be looking for a white tiger or for anyone who claims to have a White Tiger Animas. Which means you’re inviting certain death if you reveal your Awakening. But you can’t continue to live with an Absence, either. It will seem too suspicious.” Tremelo reached into the cage and pulled something out. When he returned to the desk, he had what looked like a moldy green stocking cap lying along his forearm, with its tail dangling down past the crook of Tremelo’s elbow. Tremelo plopped the creature on his desk, where it adjusted a scaly leg over a metal pipe and promptly fell asleep. It was an iguana, and an ancient one at that. Its gray-green skin was flaking off in patches, and the sagging bags under its bulbous eyes were crusted with a growth that reminded Bailey of pictures he’d seen of sea barnacles.

  “Uugh,” said Tori, and Bailey agreed.

  “Say hello to your new kin, Bailey. Many felicitations on your Awakening,” said Tremelo. “Tori, I’ll need you to pass along a few pointers on how to blend in with the reptilian crowd.”

  The iguana slowly opened one eye, and then, presumably bored by what it saw, licked its eyeball and went back to sleep.

  “It looks like it’s dying,” Bailey said.

  “Its immobility is part of the plan,” said Tremelo, sounding tremendously pleased with himself. “No one will notice that you aren’t fully interacting with him. And since there are no other Animas Iguana students currently at Fairmount, no one will be the wiser when you carry Bert around.”

  “Bert?” Tori asked.

  Tremelo raised an eyebrow.

  “Doesn’t he look like a Bert?”

  “He looks like a handbag,” Bailey said.

  Tremelo smiled. “He’s your handbag now, my boy! He’ll accompany you to classes, to the dining hall, to Scavage practice…”

  Bailey reached out a tentative finger and stroked the ridges on Bert’s back. The iguana didn’t stir, but a quarter-inch of papery skin lifted off at Bailey’s touch. He shook his finger to get it off.

  “What about Taleth?” Bailey asked. “Last fall, you were helping me prepare for my Awakening—now that I’ve Awakened, is the training over? I don’t even know how the bond is supposed to work!”

  Tremelo’s mustache drooped as he frowned, and Bailey saw a glimmer of sincere concern in his eyes.

  “It’s true, your bond is very fresh,” Tremelo said, “which means it’ll seem very random to you at first. Moments of insight and shared vision with Taleth will come and go without you being able to control them, usually during times of extreme emotions. These can be jarring, and learning to tap into your kin’s mind at will takes time. I wish I could help you ease into it, I really do. But if we were to attract attention to the woods, it’s not only you and Taleth who would be in danger. The Velyn would be at risk too.”

  Bailey breathed deeply, fighting back a lump in his throat. Disappointment filled his chest like a dark cloud.

  “Could the Loon’s book help?” he asked. “Even if you won’t let me see it while Viviana’s here, I have to know: what does it mean that I’m this Child of War? Could the prophecy help me understand more about my bond? Did you read any of it?”

  “I’ve done what little reading I dare,” Tremelo said. “One passage in particular caught my interest: the reflection and the opposite of evil…” He seemed to lose himself in thought for a moment, then shook his head. “But the book is hidden away now. I promise, I won’t keep it from you forever. But you’re in more danger now than you’ve faced in your entire life. We must wait.”

  “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.

  BAILEY WALKED PHI TO Treetop and then doubled back across the snow-covered campus, which glowed in the moonlight. Past the Scavage field, he threaded through the trees that separated the Fairmount grounds from the woods. Bert the iguana nestled underneath Bailey’s wool coat, his scaly claws gripping the cables of Bail
ey’s sweater for balance.

  When the rigimotive had first pulled into Fairmount that afternoon, Bailey had sensed that Taleth was near. At least, he thought he’d sensed this; he felt a sort of low hum that spread out in all directions from him, like a faint electro-current charge crackling in the air. Was this how it felt all the time to have a bond? He didn’t know.

  He wondered how different his Awakening would have been if the Velyn, the tribe of his birth, hadn’t been nearly wiped out during the Jackal’s reign. Did Taleth once have family too? Would he have felt the same strong pull to another white tiger, if they had survived, as he did to Taleth? He had so many questions. He wished that he’d been able to spend more time with the Velyn and their leader, Eneas Fourclaw, before the Midwinter break. Bailey hoped that the Velyn were still in the woods outside Fairmount, and he carried this hope like a lantern, lighting his way through the shadowy trees.

  He walked through brambles and over frost-slick stones to the last place where he’d seen Taleth—a small, rocky cliff visible from the highest hill on campus. All around him, he heard the rustling of winter birds and the darting of white-furred rabbits. Then there came another sound, low and gravelly, as familiar as if it had come from his own throat. He saw an enormous white form through the trees ahead. Taleth was waiting for him on the rocks, and she was purring. He wanted to throw his arms around her soft, furry neck—but the truth was he hardly knew her. His first hours with her had been spent fighting for their lives, and he didn’t know how she would react to him now. He walked forward slowly, holding his hand out to her.

  Taleth waited until he approached, and then she lowered her huge forehead and rubbed it against Bailey’s outstretched palm.

  When he and Taleth had first come face-to-face, Bailey’s Awakening had been undeniable—he’d actually been able to see himself through Taleth’s eyes, as clearly as looking into a mirror. Now his connection with her was more like a humming energy inside him, unfocused, chaotic, and untrained. It would take him time, as Tremelo had said, to tap into it at will.