On our right, there was a tavern or restaurant of some kind, the busiest place I’d seen so far. It was similar to our school cafeteria—lots of glass tables of customers being served huge plates of food.But there was also a bar, cut from quartz, where people stood around talking and drinking from mugs and teacups and tall, skinny glasses. Maybe we could stop in there, get something to drink. I was starting to feel like I needed to tell someone about my talent, or lack thereof. And maybe this was a good opportunity to confide my secret to Nix. She might have some ideas, either to help me discover my power or at least how to fake it.
“Wait!” I shouted, yanking Nix back a couple steps.
She looked alarmed. “What is it?”
I didn’t answer. I leaned against the front window, gazing inside. Way in the back of the tavern, I sawhim. I was right. It was Lucas.
He was having a heated argument with someone—no, multiple someones. A group of men—who all appeared to be human—stood across from him, fists clenched, one of them yelling back at him.
Suddenly, Lucas drew his arm back and punched one of the men right in the face. Nix and I both gasped, watching as Lucas pummeled the men one right after the other, throwing one of them up against the bar, where he hit his head and crumpled to the floor. Another bent forward, holding his belly, after Lucas kicked him square in the stomach.
“Let’s go,” I told Nix. I’d seen enough. As if I hadn’t hated Lucas already, now he was starting fights in taverns and beating people up.Vulnerable human beingswho might even have been prisoners in this realm.
13
When I gotback to my room, Jinky hurried up to me, out of breath. “Your Highness,” she said, bowing her head. “May I speak to you, in private?” She was wringing her hands and glanced around as if she was afraid someone was listening or watching.
“Of course,” I said carefully. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to hear what she had to say right then. There was so much I needed to process about the day already. “Can I ask what this is about?” Maybe it could wait.
She shook her head, her eyes wide.
“Okay.” I reminded myself that the queen should know everything that was going on around her. Just like holding my head high and showing my face when I’d rather hide under the covers, I had to get used to being available for crises when I’d rather not.
Jinky closed and locked the door as soon as we entered the room. Unusual. Then she began checking behind the curtains, under the bed, in the closet. I stood there and watched her flit frantically around the room for a couple of minutes before finally asking her what was going on.
“Lambanas!” she exclaimed, pointing a finger in the air as ifshe’d just had an epiphany. Then she ran to the plants in the corner and began pulling the leaves aside to look for the tiny creatures.
“Jinky! Please tell me what is going on!” I was starting to get worried. Maybe there was a direct threat I needed to be aware of. I had an awful thought: Maybe I’d seen something I wasn’t supposed to that afternoon in town, and now Lucas was angry, especially after how I’d upset him in class.
She started walking back to me, still looking all over the room, even picking up pieces of paper on the desk and looking under them. When she got close, she began whispering, “Okay, I don’t think anyone—or anything—is here.”
“How would there be? I can’t take another second of this. What happened? Does this have something to do with Lucas?”
“Sir Lucas?” Jinky shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, Your Highness, but you’ll understand my caution in just a moment, once I tell you what I learned this morning.” She walked over to one of the rattan peacock chairs and motioned for me to sit down.
Leaning forward, she whispered, “On my way to the kitchens today, when I was bringing your tray down, I overheard some of the maids and pages discussing how the king was found.”
“And?”
“Do you recall the circumstances of King Vivencio’s death?”
“He was found in his office. He’d been up late into the night, and they claim he overworked himself into a heart attack.” Now that I said it that way, it didn’t seem as suspicious as it had the first time Elias told me it was a “natural death.” That happens all the time. Particularly to stressed-out, burnt-out people.
“Well, what I heard is that he was found first thing in the morning, slumped over his desk, the writing quill still clasped inhis hand. The door was locked.” Nothing Jinky said so far was news to me. And I was still failing to hear the suspicious part. Then she came out with it: “The only strange thing was what he had written right before he died.”
“You found the letter!”
“Yes! Well, one of the other maids did. Only, it wasn’t a letter, exactly.” She pulled a folded piece of parchment from her apron pocket and handed it to me.
I opened it eagerly, careful not to tear it.
The letter turned out to be a few hastily penned words:
Temo was right. It’s time to tell her the truth—
A large inkblot covered the rest.
My stomach lurched.Tell her the truth.Tell who? Me? My mother? Someone else? And tell her the truth about what? Who was Temo, and what was he right about? “Where was this found?”
