Evanescent (Chronicles of Nerissette) Page 19

  “Don’t worry about them,” Eamon said. “We told them that we had things under control.”

  “But who’s going to watch the house when we—”

  Before I could finish my argument we were surrounded by woodsmen, and they were ushering me silently through the streets of Dramera. “You need to stay quiet, Your Majesty,” he whispered into my ear. “We don’t want to wake anyone up.”

  “Why not?” I murmured. “Shouldn’t we want the army with us?”

  “No.” Eamon shook his head. “Rhys and your consort said that it was one of those special missions where only a few people know about them. Control missions.”

  “Commando missions?” I asked. “They want to do some sort of weird commando mission to capture the Fate Maker? That doesn’t seem like a very good idea.”

  “You’ll have to trust us, Your Majesty,” Eamon said. The woodsmen navigated us out of the town center, and we started toward the lake. “We’ll hike around the side of the lake and then meet up with my father and the rest of your generals at the cliffs.”

  I nodded and followed as we started to skirt the lake on the west side, keeping close to the forest. I listened to the sounds of the night birds and the crickets and the softly lapping water. Halfway around the lake the woodsmen at the front of our ranks stopped. The one closest to the lake jerked his head in the direction of the lake.

  “What’s—” I started.

  Eamon touched my arm. “Shhh.”

  The woodsman who had stopped the group pointed toward the far side of the lake and held a finger to his lips. He motioned again, miming that he was going to go check something out. Rocks began to clatter, and the sound of something splashing in the waves followed. I looked between the darkness and Eamon.

  “We need to go.” He motioned me into the underbrush, away from the lake, and I tried to keep up with the woodsmen racing along like silent shadows all around me.

  We kept moving, hiking farther from the lake with every step, farther from the cliffs as we moved away from Dramera. “What are we doing? I thought we were supposed to be meeting your father and everyone else at the edge of the cliffs?”

  “We’re looping around,” Eamon said. “We’ll be there soon. I promise. You just need to trust me. Between the two of us we’ll find a way to save this world from the chaos it’s sunken into.”

  “What?”

  “We’ll make Nerissette so powerful that no one will question us again. We’ll go over the White Mountains and wrestle your aunt’s throne from her. Then the woodsmen will control all of Bathune. We’ll have the forests there as our own.”

  “Eamon.” I stopped. “What are you talking about?”

  “We’re going to run this world like it’s supposed to be run. No more bowing to a girl. To a child. We’ll be so powerful that no one will stop us. We’ll harness the magic of this world and we’ll make it worthy again. A strong Nerissette run by a strong leader. No more Fate. No more Golden Rose.”

  “You’re—” My stomach clenched as all the bad feelings suddenly came to a head. “Your father didn’t send you to get me, did he?”

  “And now she’s figured it out.” Eamon rolled his eyes at me.

  “There is no meeting of my generals. No commando mission.”

  “Of course there isn’t,” he said. “Do you seriously think they would take you on a secret stealth mission to capture the Fate Maker? That he would have been stupid enough to come at the front of his army, without soldiers to guard him? My father—our father—wouldn’t risk it.”

  “Our father?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “Our father.” Eamon sneered at me. “The man who is father to both of us.”

  “Wait, what do you mean?”

  “What do you think I mean?” He glared at me. “You and I have the same father. How difficult is that for you to figure out?”

  “We don’t have the same father. Trust me, I wish John of Leavenwald was my father, but he’s not.”

  “Well, then aren’t you going to be pleasantly surprised?” he hissed. “Because my dad is your dad.”

  “No.” I shook my head at him. “He’s not.”

  “And what makes you so sure?” Eamon asked.

  “Because John of Leavenwald wasn’t my mother’s prince consort. The Fate Maker was. He’s my father. I know it’s screwed up since he and my aunt are apparently teaming up to kill me, but it’s the truth. The Fate Maker is my dad.”

  “What?” One of the other guardsmen shifted and stared between us. “The Fate Maker is her father? I thought you said—”

  “The Fate Maker isn’t her father,” Eamon snarled.

  “Yes,” I argued. “He is. I know he is. He told me he is. We had our Darth Vader ‘Luke, I am your father’ moment. Sure he wasn’t wearing the creepy mask and breathing funny, but the effect was the same.”

  “Did he?” Eamon said. “Did he look at you and say, ‘Princess Allie, I am your long-lost father’?”

  “Well, no.” I swallowed. “But he was there when I was born. He said he came to the hospital, and he was my mother’s consort and—”

  “He was in the hospital because he was trying to kill you,” Eamon said. “He wanted to kill you and your mother both, but he couldn’t manage it. He didn’t have the relics, so he couldn’t transport himself into your world as anything more than a reflection. An image. He could see you, but he couldn’t touch you. He couldn’t end your miserable life.”

  “But—”

  “Until he figured out how to scare your mother to death, that is.” Eamon grinned. “Too bad he couldn’t do the same to you. He’s not your father. My father is.”

  I shook my head. “He’s not. My mother was always telling me stories about John of Leaven—”

  I stopped. My mother had always told me stories about John of Leavenwald. Always. Always. Even though his stories were good, great even, they weren’t my favorites, but it seemed like every time I let my mother choose what story she was going to tell me it was always one about John of Leavenwald and his mouse, Eamon.

  Handsome John of Leavenwald. The most handsome man in the World of Dreams. So fair that the birds all sang to make him smile, and the flowers would wilt when he walked by because they were jealous. The sun smiled just so that it could see him, and where John went no rain ever followed.

  My mother’s stories were always super moony when it came to John. More moony, even, than I got over Winston.

  My jaw dropped before I could stop it. “She was in love with him. My mother was in love with your father.”

  “Duh.” Eamon threw his arms out to the side and bowed slightly, snarling. “Now you’re finally catching on.”

  I looked around at the woodsmen. “So this is what? Sibling rivalry? You’re going to turn me over to the Fate Maker because you want to be an only child? Doesn’t that seem a bit psycho to you?”

  “Not nearly as psycho as trusting our world to a child.” Eamon huffed and shook his head. The other guards started to shift, and I wondered how they felt about this whole thing. “And this has nothing to do with our shared family ties.”

  “So then why—”

  “I’m getting rid of you because you are destroying our world,” Eamon said. “I’m going to free this world from Fate, and the Fate Maker and from you.”

  “Eamon,” one of the guardsmen said softly. “We’ve a long way to go tonight. If we don’t leave now we won’t make it to the meeting spot.”

  “The meeting spot?” I asked. “Who are we meeting? The Fate Maker? My aunt?”

  “None of your business,” Eamon said, and then turned his back on me. “Tie her up.”

  I tried to back away as the rest of the woodsmen surrounded us. Before I could reach my sword they had me trapped between them, two of them grabbing my arms and another two lifting my feet. A fifth guard came forward with a length of rope and bound it first around my wrists, then around my ankles.

  “What are you going to do to me?” I a
sked.

  Eamon shoved a dirty rag in my mouth and tied a gag around it. “I’m going to sell you to the Fate Maker, and then my father and I will both be free of you and your mother’s memory.”

  One of the woodsmen holding me up shifted me so that I was facing him and tossed me over his shoulder, my head hanging down to his waist.

  “Let’s move,” Eamon said quickly. “We’ve got a long way to go and a wizard to meet who won’t tolerate delays.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  When we finally stopped, the sun was breaking over the trees. I was dizzy, sore, and more than a little ticked. My own half brother had sold me out.

  For most of the time we’d been traveling, I’d tried to come up with new and creative punishments to make Eamon squirm. But then all I could think was what if John of Leavenwald was one of those dads who frowned upon exiling your own brother no matter what sort of creep he was? That thought had made me start to think about just what sort of dad he’d be with other stuff. Like curfews. Or whether or not I’d have chores. Did queens have chores?

  The woodsman holding me on his shoulder dropped me and I hit the ground hard. “Ouch.”

  “Shut up and drink this.” Eamon shoved a flask in front of my face.

  I jerked my head away. “Get stuffed, dirtbag.”

  “Fine.” He lifted the canteen up so that it was over my head and turned it over, letting the brackish water inside pour down on me. “Have it your way.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I brought my bound hands up to wipe my face. “Why did you betray us?”

  “Me betray you?” He laughed cruelly. “No one betrayed you. Your mother betrayed us all years ago, and you’re just like her. If we give you the chance, you’ll betray us the exact same way.”

  “What? How did she betray you?”

  “My father loved her. He would have fought for her. He’d have kept her, and all of us, safe. If she’d have just—”

  “If she’d have stood up to the Fate Maker,” I finished softly.

  “I remember seeing them together,” Eamon said, a sad expression crossing his face. “I was young, but I still remember her letting me sit on her knee and watch as that goblin who ran the palace did magic tricks for me. He used to make birds out of thin air that would come to life and sing me songs. He was—good. He was a good man. I’ll miss him.”

  “What about your mom? Where is she?” I asked. I forced myself to keep my voice kind, hoping I could change his mind about wanting to kill me. There had to be some kind of brother-sister bond inside us somewhere I could appeal to, right?

  “She died when I was born.” Eamon shrugged, still not looking at me, his eyes focused on the fire. “But it didn’t matter because the crown princess herself would let me sit on her lap and she’d read me stories. I thought—well, I thought a lot of things when I was a kid—but I thought they’d get married, and it would be okay because I’d finally have a mom.”

  “What happened?”

  “The old Rose died,” Eamon said, his voice flat and his eyes avoiding mine. “Then the Fate Maker looked into his magic sphere and declared that Fate had decreed him the new prince consort.”

  “But your father—”

  “Do you want to hear this story or not?” he snapped.

  I nodded, giving him a small, forced smile. I had to stay on his good side—or, well, better side.

  “Okay, then,” he said, his voice relaxing again. “Before the coronation was held he had my father kidnapped and ordered the two of us imprisoned in the Borderlands. After my father was out of the picture, the Fate Maker had your mother crowned Golden Rose and married her the very same night. Two months later she was gone. I never even got to say good-bye.”

  “Did you know that I existed?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

  “Yes.” Eamon crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his feet. When he turned to look at me, his eyes were red.

  “You knew about us? He knew about me? Why didn’t he—”

  “When I was ten, the Fate Maker decided to go to war with the trolls on the northern border. He called up his soldiers, but the men of the Leavenwald refused to fight. So he came to our castle and he brought the Mirror of Nerissette. That night, in my father’s banquet room, he had it brought in, and he forced the cat—”

  “Esmeralda.” I glared at him.

  “She opened the mirror,” Eamon said, “and there you were. Five years old, with freckles on your nose eating a chocolate ice cream cone with the queen. Then, when he was sure my father knew who you were…” He turned to look at me and stopped, jerking his head away again.

  “What? What did he do?”

  “The Fate Maker brought out a hammer and told my father that if the men of the Leavenwald ever shirked their duty to the throne again he would have the mirror destroyed. That he would break it into a million pieces and then grind those pieces into sand. All my father would have left would be a pile of dirt. The Fate Maker would leave you both there, in the World That Is, to rot.”

  He was clenching his fists at his sides now, his whole body shaking from the strain. “I was ten years old, but I remember the look on my father’s face that day. That’s when I knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “That our father would do anything for you. No matter how stupid you are, he’ll risk it all!” His voice rose. This wasn’t good.

  “What are you—”

  “He’s willing to die so that the rules no longer have to apply to you! So you can do whatever you want, even if the rest of us don’t get the same chance. Why should you get to be special?”

  “I don’t want to be special,” I said, my voice bitter, rage clawing at my chest. “I just want to find a way to go home.”

  “Liar. Gag her again,” he told his men. “We’ve got ten miles more to go before the sun is at its peak, and she’s going to be dead weight.”

  “Emphasis on dead,” one of the men chuckled.

  My heart began to pound. Whatever my older brother had planned I was pretty sure it was going to not end well—for either of us.

  “No.” I tried to struggle, even though I was still bound. “Tell me. Explain it to me. If you’re going to kill me then at least you owe me that.”

  “Explain what to you?”

  “Why are you working with the Fate Maker? You said it yourself—he’s a bad guy. The bad guy, in fact, all capital letters: the BAD GUY.” I looked straight at Eamon. “He kills people and oppresses just about everyone else. He kept our parents apart even though they loved each other. He blackmailed your father into fighting for him. Why do you want to help this guy?”

  Eamon shook his head and gave me a bitter smile. “Because he promised that if I brought you to him he’d get rid of you. He’ll prevent you from destroying this world.”

  “Eamon, you know that our army is going to beat him. Our army will win and then what are you going to do? What do you think your father is going to say when he finds out you betrayed him? Not me, him.”

  “It won’t matter. The Fate Maker will find the tear, and when he has it, he’ll trap you and your dying mother in the Bleak.”

  “So that’s what you want? Me and my mother trapped in the space between worlds? Why? Do you really hate her that much?”

  “Yes.” He grimaced. “I hate her. And you want to know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because once upon a time I loved her and then she left us. Forget the rest of them. She left me. She left me here in this world, this nightmare, so she could go take care of you. But it will be okay now because the Fate Maker will fix it. He’ll wipe my and my father’s memories of you and your stupid mother, and we’ll finally be free.”

  “Free from what?” I would’ve thrown my hands up in the air if they weren’t bound so tight they were cutting off my circulation.

  “No more questions about what could have been ruining our lives together. No more listening to Dad talk about what will happen when my sister becomes the pre
cious Golden Rose and Nerissette is free and happy again. No more listening to why we have to save the world for Allie.”

  “So let me get this straight.” I shifted and brought my hands up to cover my neckline, making sure that the chain that held the tear was hidden under my shirt. “You want to doom an entire world to misery because you think our dad likes me more than you?”

  “I want him to be free. I want all of us to be free. For us to have a chance at lives that aren’t ruled by an idiot girl.”

  “No, this has nothing to do with our world or with our people. This is about you. You want our father all to yourself. You’re jealous. Jealous of a girl who didn’t even know who he was until a few hours ago.” I paused. “That’s pathetic. You know that, right? I mean, seriously. You’re jealous over the fact that you had a dad and I didn’t? That’s almost too backward for words.”

  “Then quit talking,” a cold voice said. The Fate Maker flickered into existence in the middle of the clearing. “Otherwise I might be forced to gag you.”

  He turned to Eamon and shook his head. “Yap, yap, yap.” He moved his hand like he was mimicking someone talking. “Just like her mother. She yaps away like some sort of annoying crow. Like that creature of Sullivan’s—the roc he’s got guarding his home in the north. Screech, shriek, yap, yap, yap. What I wouldn’t do for a reliable spell to make them both mute.”

  “Tell me about it,” Eamon huffed. “You aren’t the one who’s spent three months having to listen to her and her stupid friends. Justice, free will, let’s all live in peace and harmony. It’s enough to make any true warrior sick.”

  “I’m sure it was such a trial for a brave, valiant warrior like you,” the Fate Maker said.

  “It was,” Eamon said, not catching the wizard’s sarcasm. “Thank the Pleiades that she was so ridiculously easy to trap, so stupidly trusting. She actually let me take her from a house with a dozen guards, and she didn’t even try to raise an alarm.”

  “Good. And you’ve given her your speech? Revealed the truth about her father? Told her how much you hated her? Explained why you’re betraying her?”