“My daughter.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “My brave, impossible daughter.”
Caterpillar’s smoke curled around us. “Reunions... precious. But time... slips away.”
Grump narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening. The warrior was back—but his hand still held mine.
“We have a wedding to crash.” His words were a promise.
Grump and Caterpillar unsheathed their swords as I opened the metal door. It groaned on its hinges, the sound echoing into the chamber beyond.
Two guards spun toward us, hands flying to their weapons.
I held out my palm. “Freeze.”
They stopped mid-motion—one with his sword half drawn, the other reaching for a crossbow on the wall. Frozen. Harmless.
We stepped inside.
The armory was massive—far larger than I expected. Torches lined the stone walls, casting flickering light across rows upon rows of weapons. Swords of every size hung in neat lines—broadswords, rapiers, curved blades I didn’t have names for. Axes gleamed beside war hammers and maces with spiked heads. Crossbows and longbows were mounted on racks. Shields emblazoned with Alanna’s crest—a bleeding heart wrapped in thorns—were stacked high.
Armor stood on wooden forms like headless soldiers awaiting battle. Chain mail glittered. Helmets with plumes of pink—of course, pink—sat on shelves.
Daggers filled an entire wall. Some ornate with jeweled hilts. Others plain and deadly.
It was a dragon’s hoard of death.
I scanned the room, my heart pounding. Somewhere in here was my bow. Grump’s father’s bow. The one that had chosen me.
Find me.
I closed my eyes and reached out with my senses. Not with sight. With something deeper.
There. A hum. A vibration. Like a single golden thread pulling at my chest.
I belong to you.
My eyes snapped open. I moved past the swords, past the axes, past a rack of spears. In the far corner, almost hidden behind a stack of shields, something glowed faintly.
My bow. Solid gold. Gold string. Waiting for me.
I trembled as I reached for it. The moment my fingers closed around it, something settled inside me. I wasn't helpless anymore.
And beside it—Darius’ sword.
I grabbed my bow. It hummed in my hand, warm and welcoming—like greeting an old friend. I slung the quiver over my shoulder, the familiar weight of the arrows settling against my back.
Grump was at my side in an instant. He snatched Darius’ sword from its mount, his jaw tight.
“Let’s go get our boy,” he growled.
Yes. We were getting him back. No matter what it took.
We ran back to the doors where Caterpillar waited, blue smoke curling around him like a cloak. Chester materialized beside him, his usual grin faltering.
Tears glistened in his golden eyes.
I'd never seen Chester cry. In all the time I'd known him, he'd been nothing but grins and riddles and maddening disappearances. Untouchable. Unbothered.
But now—tears.
