Emilie reached into the pouch of her hoodie and pulled out Fritz, who was none the worse for wear. Luckily, he could sleep through a hurricane and/or being gently abducted.
“Who’s that?” Skya asked as Fritz woke up and began to run up and down Emilie’s sleeves.
“Fritz. He’s my fancy rat. I don’t have anyone at home to take care of him, so I just brought him with me.” She picked up a small handful of nuts and let Fritz eat them out of the palm of her hand. When Fritz finished eating, he started to explore, racing through the grass, sniffing, then hopped over to her and wiggled in circles.
“He likes it here,” Emilie said. “He only does that when he’s happy. Nice to see. He’s had a hard life. Lonely. Lashes out when other rats try to get close to him. He’s only hurting himself really.”
“Maybe he just hasn’t met the right rat yet,” Skya said. “That’s what I tell Granny Apple when she asks me when I’m getting married.”
Aurora returned and landed on Skya’s shoulder with a flutter of feathers.
Then the bird hopped off her shoulder and walked toward Fritz, tilting her head left and right, examining the tiny creature. Then she opened her beak.
Emilie snatched Fritz away and held him to her chest.
“Aurora, don’t eat my sister’s friend.”
“Please,” Emilie said. The crow fluttered back up to Skya’s shoulder.
“Kids,” Skya said. “What can you do?”
Emilie smiled when Skya called her “sister” but didn’t say anything.
She released Fritz from her grip and let him play in the tall grass.
“Maybe I could go with you,” Emilie said. “I could help.”
“Can you use a sword?”
“No.”
“Bow and arrow?”
“Jeremy tried to teach me, but I wasn’t very good.”
“Then you can help by doing as I say so I won’t have to worry about you. Eat. Sleep. Then tomorrow, get on the ship—”
“And do nothing while you go alone on a suicide mission. Right. Got it.”
Skya almost cracked a smile. “Don’t be a brat.”
Emilie ate a few of the berries, hardly tasting them. Then she laid the blanket on the ground. She stretched out on her side with Fritz curled up in her hoodie pouch.
“I thought you’d be happy to see me. Like, hug me or something?”
Skya tossed a log onto the fire, and it hissed and crackled. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Emilie asked.
“I might not let go.”
“Then don’t let go.”
“I have to be queen before I can be your sister. Now get some sleep.”
Emilie tried very hard not to cry herself to sleep, and she succeeded. Almost.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rafe urged Sparrowhawk into a gallop. As the final pink and red rays of the day’s sunlight streaked across the sky, they reached the Moonstone Palace.
He rode into the courtyard, then halted. He was too dazzled to do anything but stare. The palace looked more like a medieval castle. A tower at each corner of the palace stood four stories high, banners flying. The white stone exterior shimmered red and gold as the sun set. And here, the bustle of the courtyard, women in armor guiding horses to stone stables, and steps that led to two enormous doors, big enough to ride an elephant through. He didn’t even notice Jeremy come up to him until he spoke.
“Rafe? You all right? You disappeared,” Jeremy said.
He looked down. Jeremy held Sparrowhawk’s bridle. By torchlight, sweating, hair damp, face dirty, he looked like a stranger, like a soldier. No, like a knight.
Rafe said, “We have another problem.”
Quickly, he told Jeremy about his encounter with the Bright Boy who called himself Ripper.
“There are no kings in Shanandoah,” Jeremy said. “That doesn’t make any sense. He didn’t say what he wants with you?”
“Only that I have to come as soon as possible or else.”
“God, I hate Bright Boys,” Jeremy said. “Bad enough they terrorize you, but they’re also incredibly annoying.”
His eyes were bright with fury and frustration, but also, Rafe could tell, a touch of bloodthirsty pleasure.
