Page 135
Thicket’s heart thundered.
“However now it is up to you, Wildfire Princess,” The Teller of Omens said. “While the Apparent Heir to the Throne followed in the path of Algernon Soumort, you must follow another. That is where your soul’s wish comes into play.”
All at once, a chorus of voices chanted:
“The wish fish heard your silent call
For a peace much greater than them all.
It will be granted, I promise thee
But be wary of those who wish to be free.”
“Use your wish wisely, Wildfire Princess,” the Shedder of Skin said. “And do well to heed our warning. We trusted your sister, and she let us down, proved our tests futile in the face of hatred. But you… we have high hopes for you yet.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Thicket blinked and she found herself back at the streets of Minloc. The astromeia flowers surrounding her had already bloomed, displaying the stars they snagged from the sky the previous night. Had it been last night? How much time had passed since the Soul Siren stole her away? Her brain was fuzzy, the pieces appearing like fogged glass in her mind. She couldn’t clearly make out where she had been or how she had gotten back. The only thing she remembered with any true clarity was the land of mist and stone and the giant cavern from which twelve pairs of eyes leered.
And—the answer to her wish.
Thicket sprinted towards the castle, sword jostling at her side. Relief surged through her, and then she questioned why she felt that way. Had she lost it? She couldn’t remember.
“Your Highness!” A guard jogged towards her. “There you are. We have been looking everywhere for you.”
“Has Lavender been executed yet?” Thicket asked, breathless.
He shook his head, forehead wrinkling. “No. Why?”
“Caspian,” she panted. “Take me to Caspian immediately.”
“Your Highness, are you alright?” The guard took in her disheveled clothes. “You appear—”
“Now!”
He bowed. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Caspian was pacing the length of the hall right outside her room. “Miss Vogeli!” he said as she approached. “Where in the twelve chalices have you been?”
“Menheir,” she said. Her memories were still foggy, as muddled as the mist consuming the land, yet she remembered enough to say definitively.
“Menheir…” Caspian’s face darkened. “Miss Vogeli, what—”
“I will explain everything. But first, I need you to call on the Council. I have an urgent matter I need to discuss with them.” Caspian opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off. “Please.”
Her bedroom door swung open. Lotta stood in its frame, holding up a freshly tailored dress. “But first, you need to look the part.”
Thicket’s dress swished around her legs. For once, it wasn’t purple. Lotta had altered her mother’s dress, the one she had abandoned in Marcellus’ room, so that it now hugged her frame. She dared to wonder if it had been Marcellus who had given the dress to Lotta.
The fabric was smooth and well worn, as though it had been a favorite of her mother’s. The only version Thicket knew of her mother was the one from the Dream World. Thicket couldn’t shake the final memory of her mother and the crazed look she had worn as she crumbled to pieces. Maybe one day, as Thicket spent more time within the walls of her childhood home, she would be able to gather pieces of who her parents really were.
For now, she clung tightly to the image of her mother’s identical curly hair bouncing with each step. The deep, vivid green brought out the vibrance of her eyes, making her feel bolder—braver.
Guards opened the meeting room doors as Thicket approached. As she entered, the Council rose, chairs screeching back all at once from around the rounded meeting table. Caspian entered from behind her and took his place besides General Cales, who bowed.
“Your Highness. May I be the first to congratulate you on your victory.” The other Council members followed, heads tipped.
Thicket let her gaze sweep across them. The air had shifted since their last meeting. At the time, she had been so concerned about proving herself to them. Now, she felt as though she were the one they were trying to impress.
