Page 31

31

CHARLIE

“L isten, I have to go to the ball,” I told Parthar. That was the name I had given the little dragon—or rather, that he had given himself. Every time I thought of him, he either brayed a word that sounded like prarrharrr —half purr, half growl—or the word came into my mind. Parthar. So that was his name.

The dragon had grown an ungodly amount in a mere two weeks, from baby that could nestle in my arms like a football to a rollicking beast the size of a small hound. I felt like I’d lost the same amount of mass he’d gained—both from the stress of keeping the dragon secret and from the fact that I gave him at least half of my food—I couldn’t ask for more without risking suspicion. Already, Rohree had discovered damage to one of the chair cushions and given me a scolding. Now, she scanned the room with an inquisitive eye every time she entered.

Fortunately, the wee beastie was a quick learner. He knew to hide in the wardrobe whenever someone came to the door—though I knew he didn’t like it much—and he hadn’t trashed the room since that disastrous first day. Still, I was grateful Essa never came here—because I had a feeling a rider would sense a hiding dragon right way.

Now, as I clipped my cloak on and turned from the mirror, Parthar stood atop the bed’s canopy, wings spread like an eagle testing the wind.

“Parthar, no,” I said. Too late. The beast swooped down, hitting me in the chest and knocking me on my ass as I caught him. “Parthar!” I scolded him.

He licked my face, his long, forked tongue as gritty as a cat’s.

Dragons gotta fly. Gotta fly, Dad, I imagined him saying.

I put a finger on his soft snout. “Baby dragons who are secrets have to stay quiet. Or get their human daddies killed. Got it?” I said, sliding him off my lap and straightening the velvet tunic the princess had gifted me for the dance.

“How do I look?”

He cocked his head, blinking his orange, inquisitive eyes.

Hungry.

Two thirds of Parthar’s thoughts related directly to food.

I groaned. “I already gave you most of my dinner!”

But no dessert. He looked mournful.

“Dessert is to be served at the dance,” I said. “I’ll pocket a few sweetcakes for you, alright?”

Promise?

A knock at the door. I felt my eyes go wide.

I promise. Now go! Into the wardrobe. Quick, quick, quick! I thought, and Parthar loped toward the cabinet and leaped in. I banged the doors shut and leaned against them just as door to the room opened.

Rohree was there, her eyes narrowed.

“Everything alright in here? I thought I heard talking.”

I smoothed my hair with one hand. “Just… reading some of my writing out loud,” I said. “It helps with catching errors.” I was grateful for the time I’d spent with Kitty—it had taught me enough about writing to lie about it, at least. The sprite’s eyes drifted to my hands.

“Where are the pages you’re reading?”

I pointed to my head. “In here,” I cleared my throat. “I’ve memorized it.”

“Good,” Rohree said. “I know the princess is most eager to read what you’ve written. Perhaps you can recite it for her on the dance floor tonight.”

A bang came from inside the cabinet.

Quickly, I rubbed my elbow. “Ow,” I gave Rohree my most charming smile. “Damn I’m clumsy. I suppose that’s why I’m a writer and not a professional baseball player, eh?”

“And not a valet, either,” she said. “Come here. Your cloak is a mess.”

I came and knelt down before Rohree, allowing her to straighten my clothes.

“Thank you,” I said. “You know, you’ve been really nice to me.”

She glanced from my clothes to my face and her normally hard eyes softened. “Well… I know what it is to be different, master Kit. And what it is to be far from home.”

“Where is your home?” I asked.

“We sprites are from Koratain, far in the south. It is controlled now by a race known as the sylph. Their culture is great and ancient and they are known throughout the world for their wealth and their trading prowess. But their lord is cruel, especially to sprites. Many of us fled.”

“Once we get this war wrapped up maybe I’ll head down there and liberate it for you,” I said.

The sprite gave me a sharp look. “With your pen?”

I gave a wan smile. “Well, they say it’s mightier than the sword…” I moved on quickly. “So, you’re a refugee.”

Rohree nodded. “Yes. Well, my people are. Our family left in the days of my grandparents. Maethalia is all I’ve known. The kindness I’ve tried to show to you, the royal family has shown to us. And I’ve served Essaphine since she was a girl.”

Thinking of the princess as a child made me smile. “What was she like?”

Rohree gave a laugh. “Naughty. Haughty. Sweet…” she paused, thinking, then added: “And fearful. And lonely. It is hard for a child to be different from other children. And harder still to be a royal. I’ll tell you the truth. I’ve never seen her as happy as she’s been these last few weeks.”

There came another bang from the wardrobe. My heart stopped beating, and with its failure I felt the blood draining from my face.

“Is that her?” Rohree whispered.

I didn’t understand what she meant. “Her?”

She turned to the wardrobe. “Essaphine?” she called.

Then I understood. “Oh. Yes. Yes, it’s her in there. Hiding.”

The sprite’s mouth fell open. “I’m surprised at you!” she shouted at the wardrobe. “I could tell you fancied him, but… Oh, for the sake of Earth Mother, come out!”

The wardrobe doors banged again, but remained shut. Rohree was pushing me aside, grabbing the door handle.

“No. No! She’s—she’s naked!” I protested—too late.

The sprite flung open doors and there sat Parthar, his bright orange eyes blinking with calm satisfaction.

Rohree covered her mouth with her hands.

“A dragon,” she whispered.

“Well… yeah,” I said.

“A dragon cub.”

“He’s about two weeks old, yes,” I sighed.

“It’s…” She wheeled on me. “It’s a miracle!”

I frowned, confused. “It is?”

“The eggs laid here no longer hatch,” Rohree explained. “And even among those in the hatching grounds at Dorhane, none has hatched in over two years. But… why is he with you?”

“Uh…” I groped for an apt lie but none came to mind. “It’s a long story,” I said.

“The princess knows, of course?”

I hesitated.

“I must tell her,” the sprite said, rushing for the door. I stepped in front of her, put my hands on her shoulders.

“Rohree, no.”

“This is the most important news in all of Maethalia. You truly expect me to keep it a secret from Essa?” she shrugged my hands off.

“Rohree, please, listen,” I begged. “The princess has been looking forward to this ball for weeks. And if the challenge doesn’t go as we hope, it might be the last one she gets.” I shook my head. “If we tell her about the dragon now, she’ll have to tell the Queen. The court will be in an uproar. And I… Just give us tonight. Please. Just tonight. Then in the morning we’ll tell Essa—together.”

Rohree’s lips pursed. She glared at me, then at Parthar, who sat among the blankets at the bottom of the wardrobe, sucking his tail.

“To keep such a thing secret would be treason,” Rohree said. “You’re asking me to risk my life for you!”

“Not for me. For Essa. Just one night.” I pleaded. “That’s all I ask.”

The sprite looked from Parthar back to me nodded. “You have until midnight to tell her,” she said. “After that, I’m going to the Queen.”