Her boots were muddy, and her skirt was unraveling at the hem. How was she so disheveled even in a dream? She couldn’t have gone to bed in those clothes.
I softened a bit as I hugged her back. My sisters had been thinking of me and had wanted to see me, so they’d found a way. If their method happened to involve powerful, intrusive magic, that was par for the course in my family.
“So, are you in Tailliz?” Calla asked. “Have you met King Gervase? What’s he like?”
“No, not yet. I’m still on the road.”
Well, off the road and in the woods. I was about to mention that when Jonquil said, “Have you had any trouble along the way? Anything we should know about?”
I hesitated.
I could tell them about the spider wolves, describing my rescue and possible ongoing abduction by masked men. And no doubt my sisters would come racing to my aid.
But for perhaps the first time, I didn’t need their help. I had survived the spider wolves, and I had deceived the hunters or robbers or whoever they were. I was managing things well enough on my own, doing fine without my sisters intervening. Which was not something I got to experience much, if ever.
It was far from certain my sisters would share my opinion of events. Jonquil had asked if I needed any help within five minutes of appearing in my dreams, which neatly summed up how she thought of me. The moment they heard about my circumstances—stranded in the woods with strangers—they would be convinced I’d made my usual muddle of things. They’d set off to pluck me out of danger.
Whether I wanted them to or not.
I shrugged and lifted my chin, looking Jonquil in the eye. “Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s been a rather boring trip. Although honestly, you might have thought to put a spring arrangement in the carriage and some cushions on the seats.”
“Pumpkins are very resistant to suspension systems!” she replied, too defensively. Had I hurt her feelings? I’d only meant to deflect the conversation. “Turning plant matter into metal requires a fundamental restructuring—”
The walls began to shudder, teeth falling all around us like hailstones. One bounced off my nose and rattled to the ground.
“What’s happening?” Calla asked, nearly falling over as the floor heaved like a flapping tongue.
“I think she’s waking up,” Jonquil said. “Melilot, take care. I’ll do my best to bring the rest of the family along next time, so…try to be decent?”
“Next time, you should knock first!” I shouted over the noise of the dream collapsing.
Jonquil waved goodbye as she faded from my view. “We’ll see you when the celestial spheres are aligned again!”
Maddeningly, I was somehow both relieved and saddened their visit was coming to an end. “Wait,” I began. “How long before—”
My eyes blinked open to find a masked face looming above mine. A hand was on my shoulder, gently shaking me awake.
“It’s dawn, Not The Princess. Time to rise.”
I tried to figure out which one of them it was, but it wasn’t easy, especially with the vestiges of a toothy hallway still dissipating from my mind’s eye. The hunter didn’t sound like Clem, and both his legs were on…. Could it be The Nose Blower? What was that one named? Kit, I thought. Or maybe this was Bloody Knee. Jack. He was wrapped in a cloak to ward off the morning frost, so I couldn’t see if there were bloodstains on his breeches. Once Jack got around to changing his trousers, identifying him was going to be even more difficult.
If this turned out to be an abduction, I would have to learn how to tell them apart. I might be spending a great deal of time with them while I waited to be ransomed. Or for my stepmother to show up with a poisoned apple.
“Come on,” whoever it was said. “We’ve got a long walk to the castle.”
All around me, the men were striking the camp, kicking dirt over the last embers of the fire, or pulling on their boots and gloves. They’d already donned their masks. I wondered if they’d slept in them.
The man who’d woken me turned away to finish dressing, and before he got his gloves on, I noticed a gold ring on his fourth finger. A wedding band? Or an engagement ring, perhaps. According to Sam’s story, Jack had been betrothed and then abandoned. If that was Jack, interesting that he was still wearingit.
Where was Sam, anyway? I only counted five of the huntsmen, and none of them had a half-shredded shirt.
That was when I heard a snore from behind me and noticed my head was cushioned by something softer than I might have expected. I half raised myself up and turned to see it had been Sam’s stomach. He was still asleep. With his maskon.
Had he served as my pillow for the whole night? And had I slept the whole night through? That never happened.
I prodded him with a finger. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
The snoring stopped. “Every part of my body,” he said without opening his eyes, “hurts. I think I’ll just stay right here forever, if you don’t mind.”
