12. Chapter 12
12
BEATRICE
“Beatrice! Wake up, girl.”
I sat bolt upright on the sofa, wincing at the crick in my neck even as relief rushed through me. “Auntie Bella! You’re all right! What’s going on? Where have you been? I was starting to worry!”
“So worried that you fell asleep,” she retorted with one of her most annoying grins. “I’ll explain while you’re dressing. Get up and put your snow gear on—yes, the overalls, jacket, hat, and boots. You’ll need the warmth where you’re heading. And don’t forget your backpack—you’ll need it. No, not another word! Close your mouth and get dressed.”
I did as I was told but with a scowl, which amused her . . . which increased my irritation until she began to explain: “A few days ago, some of the very mages who swore solemn oaths to protect our world from magical tyranny betrayed a fellow mage and stole a powerful magical artifact. To the best of our knowledge, they then used the artifact to take over the entire Magic Council.”
“A coup,” I whispered. “A magical coup with the Mirror that tried to kill Princess Eddi.”
“Indeed. And, aware that the greatest impediment to their goal of world domination dwells in these mountains, they have launched an attack on the magical barriers surrounding the Gamekeeper’s territory, which includes this resort. Just moments ago, I learned that a griffin has been captured—exactly the creature the traitors require to pinpoint our protector’s location from the air.”
“The Gamekeeper?” I echoed. “Are you saying he is the greatest impediment to—”
“Yes. He has been the Trollkarl, head of the World Magic Council, for several decades now. It is largely due to him that our world lives free of magical domination. But many power-hungry mages resent his benign rule, and in the Mirror of Alviss, they have found their means to challenge his supremacy.”
My Gamekeeper was the most powerful enchanter in the world, the champion of ordinary humans? The Trollkarl ? My mind reeled.
“Is he . . . all right? Is there anything I can do?” To help him, I meant, but she already knew.
“If you are willing to help rescue both him and the world, you must follow my directions to the letter.”
I nodded, but anger roared through me. “How could anyone betray the person who’s protected our world for so long?”
Auntie sighed heavily. “Beatrice, the less you know of perfidy, calumny, and pusillanimity, the better.”
When my aunt goes all sesquipedalian (another of her favorite words) on me, I usually roll my eyes and patiently smile. But on that night, I only wished I had the power to lay into those monstrous mages who lacked moral standards or backbones and were, as my aunt had so succinctly nailed them, pusillanimous bullies who followed whatever person or being seemed to be on top.
“Now, listen to me!” Auntie broke through my mental tantrum like a drill sergeant. “You are to escort a teenaged girl and the eggs currently in her care through the mountain to the Forbidden Palace.”
“Eggs?” I thought I’d misheard.
“Yes, griffin eggs. Your first mission is to protect those eggs at all costs. One of them may be either our world’s doom or its deliverance.”
Okay. Right. Eggs. I couldn’t exactly recall what a griffin looked like. Had I ever seen one? “What about the girl?”
“Keep an eye on her. She might not be our ally.”
I donned my jacket. “I’m hearing a lot of ambivalence, Auntie.”
She ignored my comment. “You must protect them until they hatch and can survive on their own. Once you reach the palace, you’ll be safe for a time. I hope.”
“But how do I get to the . . . What palace did you say?”
“Boots.” She pointed at them. “It’s cold where you’re headed.”
While pulling on my boots, I gave her a pleading look.
“Guidance will be provided at the appropriate time. If you really want to save the Gamekeeper, you’ll do whatever he asks of you.” The closed yet intent expression on her wrinkled face was disconcerting, to say the least. I knew without doubt that I could trust her, but how could eggs be essential to the future of the world? And what if I messed up?
As my grandaunt shoved a backpack into my hands, her piercing eyes seemed to read my mind. “Dear girl, you must ignore your fears. As a wise man once said, be strong and courageous. Look to the heart, not the outward appearance of man or beast. Use your discernment and your magic—both are God-sent gifts to aid you in making wise choices. Those you love most and those who love you most are depending on you, Beatrice, and I know you are worthy of our trust. Protect those babies and seek the truth!”
“How will I get—” I began, but too late. I was suddenly sitting with my back against a wall and looking up at stars just bright enough to reveal that the ground dropped into nothingness a few feet to my left.
I may or may not have silent-screamed into that void while scrambling away from the edge, clutching my backpack to my chest, and hyperventilating until the cold drove me to action. Wary of cracking my head on a low ceiling, I felt my way up the stone wall with one hand, slowly straightening to my full height.
Once upright and feeling somewhat rational, I saw a warm glow farther away in what had to be a cave. “Hello?” I croaked, then tried again with more volume. “Hello? I was sent here to help you.”
Shuddering with cold and terror, I followed the light into a wider section of the tunnel, like a room with a doorway at each end, and realized I’d just entered some unfamiliar magic. The air was significantly warmer, but it reeked like an unkempt zoo or barnyard. A niche in the tunnel wall, almost like a hearth, contained what looked like a large pile of kindling, or perhaps a bird’s nest formed of sticks, globs of moss, and pine straw. The mass glowed with light.
There was no sign of a teenage girl or eggs.
I tried again: “Hello?”
With a burst of magic, a silvery apparition appeared before me. I gasped but instantly realized it wasn’t a ghost. The girl looked twelve at most, with shabby clothes, an inadequate jacket, and hair like a ratty haystack.
“Who are you?” she snapped.
I cleared my throat. “I was sent here by an enchantress to escort you and some griffin eggs to safety.” Facing her hostile stare, I felt increasingly foolish. “Um, do you have eggs? What’s that light?” The pile of rubbish glowed brighter.
“None of your business!” Her tone was gruff. “How did you get here? No, never mind. I don’t care. Just go back to wherever you came from. You’re trespassing, and I don’t need help from some prissy know-it-all.”
I did my best to overlook her rudeness. “I’m coming with you. Rather, you’re coming with me, and right away,” I told the girl. “You’re in danger. Both of us are, and the eggs.”
When the light flickered again, she raised one brow, folding her arms. “You’re in danger, for sure: Mirka will be back soon, and she doesn’t take kindly to trespassers.”
“You’re held captive here, aren’t you?” I realized.
She rolled her eyes. “Look, Vlad just went out to meet Mirka. They’ll be back any minute now. I’m sure it was kind of you to come and try to ‘help,’ but as you can see, everything is under control. Trust me: you want to get out of here.”
I looked her over. Skinny, shabby, and sarcastic. “Do you have any food?” I asked. “Warm clothes?”
Her brows lowered. “I told you, Mirka will be back any time now.”
I spoke with greater certainty. “My orders are to escort the eggs to the Forbidden Palace.” The room brightened yet again at the word “eggs.” Something buried in the straw emitted that light.
Most likely the eggs. But when I moved toward the niche, the girl flung herself into my way. “Leave ’em alone! Vlad’ll kill you if you touch ’em. He’ll kill me too.”
I used my best calming voice, edging it with authority. “We must deliver these eggs to the Forbidden Palace. Now.”
She scowled. “Do you have any idea how long it’d take to hike that far? In the dark? With nothing to eat?”
I could do without the snark, but she’d just confirmed my hope that the Forbidden Palace was within walking distance. “The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll be there.” As my hand reached toward the dusty straw, the glow began to shimmer.
“Stop! Stop it! Leave them alone!” She tried to wrestle me aside, but my patience was gone. I gripped her wrists and dodged a vicious kick. “What’s your name?” I demanded while holding her at arms’ length. She attempted another kick, so I twisted one of her arms behind her back, bending her over and off balance. She was a strong kid, but I was at least as strong and much taller.
Those self-defense classes at boarding school finally came in handy.
Wilting, the girl stared at the floor. “Win.”
I needed a moment to process. “That’s your name? Win?”
Icy silence.
“Short for Winifred?” I guessed.
She made a half-hearted effort to escape. “If you ever call me Winnie, I’ll kill you.” Her oblique glare might have melted diamonds, but after years of dealing with Eddi, I was impervious.
“I’m Beatrice, and I’m pleased to meet you, believe it or not. Help me pack up the eggs. We need to get moving.”
When I released her, she stalked over to kneel beside the rubbish pile, pulled out what looked like a glowing bundle of rags, and gently set it on the floor. “First thing you need to know: absolutely never touch the eggshells with your hands.”
I decided to go there: “What’ll happen if I do?”
With the egg-light shining on her face from below, she leveled a baleful stare at me. “Vlad and Mirka will eat you alive .”
“That dramatic lighting earns you extra points,” I commented, “but I eat melodrama for lunch. And if you’re not careful, your face might stick that way.”
After extracting a second glowing bundle, she sat back on her heels, crossed her arms, and stared at my boots. Her own feet wore battered walking shoes.
One musty bundle shimmered like moonlight, and the other spread a warm glow. They were much larger than I’d expected.
“I’ll carry them in my sling,” Win stated.
“No need. I’ll carry them in my backpack.” I unzipped it.
Win shot to her feet and straddled the eggs, fists clenched. “You can’t carry them! I’m their nanny.”
I wanted to laugh but schooled my expression just in time. “Interesting. I’m a nanny too. Exactly what does being a nanny to eggs entail?”
She didn’t back down. “I tend them while Vlad and Mirka hunt for food or . . . or do whatever griffins do.”
“How long have you been living here?” I waved vaguely at our surroundings.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I hiked into the mountains to ask for a summer job at Faraway Castle Resort, but Vlad snatched me off the road and brought me here.”
If her story were true, she’d been living in the dark, dank cave for at least six months. Poor kid. “As a slave?”
Win gave a noncommittal grunt, then added, “I’ll get paid with a sack of gold and jewels once the hatchlings are on their own.”
“Exactly how long will that take? Weeks? Months?”
“I don’t know, but Vlad says he’ll kick them out once they can fly.”
The girl could be stuck here for another year or more! My gaze slid briefly toward the bundled eggs. At some point in my life, I really should have studied up on magical beasts. The only ones I could think of offhand were cinder sprites, unicorns, winged horses, and lake monsters . . . but I couldn’t bear to admit my ignorance to this annoying girl. I should have asked my aunt when I had the chance. Did griffins have human-looking parts? Eggs could hatch into birds, reptiles, amphibians . . .
Please, no giant insects!
“Are the eggs heavy?” I blurted to stave off freaky mind pictures.
“Nah, but I have to turn them regularly. Birds turn their eggs too, you know, to keep them warm on all sides.” She evidently enjoyed educating me.
So, griffins were not birds. Great. I studied my backpack. “We’ll each carry one.”
Winifred scowled, narrowing her eyes, but didn’t argue the point. I was much larger and better fed; I could take the girl in a fair fight. However, I wouldn’t let down my guard for a moment.
I helped Win tuck one wrapped egg into a sort of fabric sling while fervently hoping I wouldn’t soon smell as bad as she did. While she settled the egg against her side, I laid my egg . . . Let me rephrase that: I placed my silvery-light egg on top of some clean underclothes (thanks to Auntie), used my thick snow gloves for padding, then zipped my backpack and leaned it against the wall beside the far doorway. Even when completely covered, the eggs provided enough light for us to finish packing.
Win offered to divide her meagre rations between us—protein bars, packets of trail mix, and several withered apples. I gave her a tight smile. “Thanks, but I saw some food in my backpack. Where did your food come from?”
“None of your business. We’ll find water along the way,” she said airily.
Our preparations complete, I followed her back to the doorway-into-darkness. Something about it made my stomach clench.
Win stepped aside. “You’re older, so you should take the lead,” she said, bending to pick up my pack.
I turned to accept it from her. “You’re the one who knows the—”
With a sudden lunge, she shoved me into the tunnel. Startled by the tingle of magic, I stumbled a few steps down the dark slope past the opening, then turned to glare at her smug face. “What was that for?”
She stuck out her tongue and turned away, muttering, “I hope the Beast eats you!”