40. Willow
Chapter 40
Willow
I t doesn’t take us long to pack travel bags stuffed with supplies, strap weapons to our bodies, and pull on furred cloaks and thick leather winter gear. Geraldine, Max, and I say goodbye to Peggy, Cricket, and Finch in the castle foyer near the entrance. Titania’s portrait stares down at us from the wall, her painted eyes seeming to follow our movements. The air in the foyer is chilly, and the scent of old stone and faded tapestries fills my nostrils. Our footsteps echo off the high ceilings as we say our goodbyes.
Varen has already worked himself into a tizzy at our departure. He was napping when we returned to the castle, and now he appears more chaotic than usual, his hair sticking up at odd angles and his clothes askew.
“No,” he says, shaking his head, refusing to let go of me. His grip is surprisingly firm, his fingers digging into my arms. “If the queen leaves a hive, the other worker bees don’t know what to do.”
“It’s okay, Varen,” I say, gently disentangling myself from his arms. His skin is clammy against mine, and I feel him trembling slightly.
“The colony can collapse without her pheromones to guide them.”
“We’ll be fine. Legion wouldn’t send us on this pilgrimage unless he’s certain it’s safe. In fact,” I pat his arm, trying to soothe him, “he’s doing this to prepare us. We need it. My friends need it. It’s a good thing.”
But he keeps returning to how the honeycombs need repair. Usually, I make sense of at least half of his ramblings, but today, I’m stretching.
“They’re broken,” he says, slapping his hand on the wall. The sound echoes through the foyer. “The honeycombs are broken. They’re looking, but I can’t find it, and they won’t find it unless she’s here. The queen bee must not leave the hive, or the worker bees will follow her.”
“Just a few days,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice calm and reassuring. “I’ll be back. Keep the honeycombs . . .” I shrug, thinking to myself, I don’t know. “Keep working on your plan. Show me when I get home.”
Somehow, this seems to appease him. He nods, scrubs his face with both hands, and walks away, his shoulders slumped.
The baby Wild Hunt tries to follow me as I exit the castle, its tiny claws clicking on the stone floor.
“No, Hunt. Keep Varen safe. That’s your job.” It whimpers, its eyes big and pleading. But then I say, “He’s got some yum-yums for you.”
He’s off, chasing Varen up the stairs. I shake my head, but I’m smiling. That dragon understands more than everyone knows.
We arrive outside the House of Stone Tower, and I see Bodin standing with his hand on Colin’s back; joy bursts from my chest. I can’t believe it. He found him. Grinning from ear to ear, I stride up to them, Geraldine and Max at my back.
“Colin! I’m so glad to see you,” I say. He looks at me strangely, his eyes darting around nervously. He probably doesn’t recall me from Burn After Reading. So, I stick out my hand and reintroduce myself. “I’m Willow,” I say. “This is Geraldine and Max.”
He gives a shy nod but doesn’t say anything. I look closer at him and see signs of a wounded animal—a twitch here, a flinch there—hypervigilant where he doesn’t need to be. I wonder where he’s been these past few days. I look at Bodin, but his jaw clenches, and he gives an almost imperceptible head shake. Later , his eyes seem to say.
True to his word, Legion organizes the exhibitors into small troops. He assigns a Radiant or a dragon-bonded to each and announces he’s leading a unit I’m not a part of. Emrys takes another, while Styx takes a third. Bodin leads my troop. All the while this is happening, a slow excitement builds in my blood. Finally, I get to see Avorlorna. My heart races with a mix of excitement and apprehension. The chance to explore beyond the Nexus thrills me, but uncertainty about what we might find out there sends a shiver down my spine. I get to see if this land lacks wisps everywhere.
I suspect I know the answer. The Sluagh haven’t given me any reason to believe the Well flows abundantly out there. But I still need to see it with my own eyes.
Before we leave, Puck charges in, flanked by a unit of green-cloaked city guards who start breaking up the groups, ordering them to return to their towers until further notice. The atmosphere charges with tension, and I can see the confusion and worry on the faces of the other exhibitors.
“They can’t do that, right?” Max asks nervously. Geraldine and the rest of our troop murmur their concerns.
“Just wait.” I nod to where Legion speaks with Puck at the center of the furor. “We don’t leave until the Knight Commander tells us to.”
Calling them knights doesn’t feel so jarring anymore. It feels right.
Legion and Puck face each other through the commotion, their bodies tense. Legion’s face is a mask of cool indifference, but I can see the subtle clench of his jaw. Puck, on the other hand, struggles to maintain his composure. His eyes dart nervously, and his hands fidget at his sides as he speaks.
Bodin returns to my side, unworried about the turn of events. I think he actually yawns at one point, so I relax. Legion can handle a little politics, I’m sure.
I take the opportunity to assess the timid Colin. Something definitely happened to him. I tug on Bodin’s sleeve to bring his ear closer to my lips and whisper, “I thought you said he could switch to learning to be a Phantom. Does he have to come with us?”
He looks down at me, his dark eyes intense. “Willow, training as a Phantom includes what you’ll be learning while we’re out there.”
“It’s just that he doesn’t look?—”
“We’ll take care of him,” he pets my arm, his touch reassuring. “Don’t worry.”
Legion and Puck’s argument continues, escalating in tone and pitch. The green-cloaked guards stall, knowing their Knight Commander is unhappy with whatever Puck told them, and Earl Larkspur takes advantage of the lull. He renews assigning exhibitors to each troop.
Two more young teenagers join our group, and I’m happy to see Colin perk up. They must know each other, and from the look Bodin gives him, satisfied and relieved, I know Bodin had a hand in their assignment. I introduce myself and find out the perky female with curly blonde hair is Maggie. Her friend with bangs and masses of brown hair is Ji-Soo.
We receive eleven exhibitors from various houses. I don’t know any except Becky, one of Dahlia’s and Irisa’s friends. She’s not a Shadow herself, but she was there when they steered me toward Milford. Of course, she doesn’t remember being part of that drama. Probably. We exchange polite greetings and then return our focus to where Puck’s voice suddenly raises, tight and shrill.
“—blatant disregard and breach of protocol,” Puck accuses Legion, his face flushed with anger.
“You broke protocol first,” Legion points out coldly, referring to Puck’s new stony gaze.
He stole the Baleful Hunt from the House of Stone—the traditional host of the dragon since the Shining Host was created.
Puck bristles visibly. He leans in close and threatens Legion with a hiss. “I could send you to the Cabinet immediately for your insubordination.”
Legion doesn’t even blink. He looks as bored as Bodin.
Puck adds, “Mark my words, Sluagh, there will be consequences.”
I didn’t think the temperature could plummet any lower, but the air turns icy. Legion’s upper lip curls, and my heart races. Puck just said the S-word. No one here is supposed to know the true identity of the Queen’s Knights. A flash of white cuts through the crowd like a shark’s fin—Emrys approaches Legion. This time, when I glance at Bodin, he’s not yawning. He’s ready to charge in and do something. Worse, Styx is smiling like he knows something we don’t.
“There already are consequences,” Legion counters Puck quietly, taking a step away and dismissing him.
Why isn’t he worried? I can’t help but admire Legion’s calm demeanor in the face of Puck’s threats. But a knot forms in my stomach as I wonder about the consequences of this confrontation. What if Puck follows through on his threats? What would happen to the Six . . . to me? I push the thoughts aside, focusing on the present—one crisis at a time.
I search the faces of nearby troops. Most Radiants are busy organizing the rabble. Even the green-cloaked guards seem distracted and even . . . helping with the organization. When did that turn about? Could we be so lucky that none of them heard? I’m at least ten feet away, and I heard.
Then I see a guard shake his head as if disoriented. My gaze snaps to Styx. He stands back, arms folded, lips stretched wide, and eyes wicked as he sweeps the crowd. I remember that grin. I saw it in the temple the first time he met Puck.
He’s the reason Legion isn’t worried.
“You messed with their minds,” I project my thoughts to Styx.
He turns to me and flashes a mouth full of sharp, monstrous fangs. The glimpse is so brief that I almost think I imagined it.
“You didn’t imagine it,” Styx purrs into my mind, eyes gleaming. The more I’m learning about him, the more I see he’s the sort to get a thrill dancing on a razor’s edge.
Puck mumbles something I miss.
Legion turns back from his retreat and gives him a withering glare. “I expected better from you. You were a good soldier once. But now look at you. What a waste.”
“Be careful, Knight Commander,” Puck warns. “I control the Shining Host now.”
“I know. I’m the one who put you there, remember?”
“You didn’t—” Outrage mottles Puck’s expression. Something dark swims beneath his chalky skin. “Regardless of who voted me in, I have the controlling vote. All I need to do is?—”
“You control nothing,” Legion states, “if there is no Shining Host to cast a vote.”
“Are you threatening me—us?”
Everyone is looking now. He’s making a spectacle of himself in a very bad, un-faerie way. On the other hand, not a hair seems out of place on Legion’s head.
“I’m simply pointing out,” Legion drawls, “that every dragon-bonded Radiant has already agreed to this expedition.”
“But I didn’t!”
Legion simply stares at him until Puck reads between the lines. No one counts Puck as one of them, not really. The veiled insult only riles Puck up.
“Why the sudden interest in the curriculum?” he asks, his voice dripping with suspicion.
“What are you afraid of?” Legion flicks chalky sand from Puck’s shoulders. “That we’ll head out there and find your leadership is lacking? Or that everyone will soon know the truth behind your dragon acquisition.”
“Fine, leave the Nexus,” Puck grinds out, stepping back to avoid another patronizing sweep of Legion’s hand. “You won’t find evidence to support a state of Martial Law. The exhibition will go on.”