Whatever she had done to Hawthorne, she could never do it again.
Soon, two hedgemen came and delivered her to the grove where she’d first confronted the Wood King. The trees were just as tall, rising up towards the night sky, but their leaves had transformed from green to gold. The tall lampposts had been lit and night bugs chirped in the shadows. Like in her first meeting with the king, courtiers gathered at the edges, this time seated at elegant tables awaiting her demonstration.
Hawthorne wasn’t among them, but Emeline sighted Pa and his attendant sitting at a table near the middle. Someone had recently washed and combed Pa’s gray hair, and he looked handsome in a pressed shirt.
She’d been avoiding her grandfather ever since scaring him the other day. But he seemed himself tonight. Calm and content as he sat among the courtiers.
When he caught sight of Emeline, she could tell from the look in his eyes that he was fighting to place her, watching her cross the grove like he knew she was important; he just couldn’t remember why.
Emeline smiled at him.
I love you,she thought. I’m sorry for getting you into this mess.
He smiled slowly back.
If everything went as planned, Pa would go free soon.
And I’ ll be stuck here,she thought, soberly.Alone.Until she found some way to escape. If that was even possible. And if it was, how long would it take?
She thought of her tour. Of the Daybreak representatives. Of Joel, wondering where she was.
If Hawthorne weren’t so stubborn,she thought, her anger rising.If he’ d simply agreed to deliver one little message …
But Hawthorne had no intention of helping her. If shewanted to save her career, Emeline would have to take matters into her own hands.
Up ahead, the king rested on his frost-pale throne, bathed in starlight. He wore a robe of blooming white flowers and Emeline watched in disbelief as the delicate petals unfurled while others shriveled, browned, and died away.
Two hedgemen flanked him, standing straight as birches.
Gathering her courage, Emeline walked out into the center of the clearing. The breeze ruffled her hair and cooled her skin.
“Good eve, singer.” The Wood King’s voice rushed through the clearing, like a wild wind.
She bowed her head to him. “Sire: before I begin, I have a favor to ask.”
Her voice rang through the clearing. The king watched her, his face unreadable. With a flick of his fingers, he motioned for her to go on.
“I’ve been in your court for several days,” she said. “No one knows I’m here. People will be thinking the worst by now.”
When the king didn’t interrupt her, she took a step forward.
“All I need is to send one message home to let them know I’m safe.” She would send it to Joel, explaining things and asking him to tell her manager to pleasepleasenot cancel her tour, because she’d be back soon.
But she left this part out.
Silence fell over the grove. In the stillness, the flowers cloaking the king stopped blooming. Instead, the petals curled in on themselves, tightening into buds.
“You may ask my tithe collector to send a message for you.”
Emeline’s hands bunched the fabric of her dress. “I’ve asked him, sire, and he refused.”
“Then there’s nothing more I can do. My tithe collector isthe only member of my court able to pass beyond the borderlands. Please proceed with the demonstration.”
Emeline’s blood sparked.Can’t you force him?she wanted to say.Aren’t you king?But it was written straight across his face: he didn’t care. She’d been a fool to think he would.
This was the creature who’d tormented Edgewood all her life. Emeline was nothing to him. She was utterly powerless here.
Except for one thing.
