“All right there, Peanut Butter?”
He didn’t toss his head or even nicker. I supposed it would take time for the horse to come around to it.
There was a disturbance near the gate. The queen had come out in golden armor, the morning twilight casting it near silver. A cheer went up.
Peanut Butter moved uneasily beneath me.
“Whoa, Peanut Butter. It’s all right.”
Members of her court followed behind her—there was Lord Parable, and then the Master of Horse on a tall dappled gray. Ariana wore a split dress and her cloak nearly covered her horse’s haunches. She looked utterly at home atop it, a skilled rider. She wasn’t in the chamber when I woke that morning. She was shyer than Issa, busy with the demands of the queen, and I had to find a way to get near her. Bring her forward in the story.
And there was Lord Draw.
I still felt the heat of his kiss. Attentive, eager.
I wondered if he thought of me that morning.
But I really shouldn’t have.
I’d spent years pining over Ironclaw’s character. I would have said the hold he had on my imagination was unswayable, even if he carried a certain disdain for me because of my status as a witch’s apprentice. Unswayable until last night.
It felt like Draw wanted to understand me. Moreover, that he letmeunderstand him a bit more. I knew he didn’t get close with many people. He chose me.
But what was beginning to grow within me was different than my generic desire to spend the night with Ironclaw.
I had the distinct feeling that if I kept going, my heart was at risk to break when Sorrel swept me home.
Lord Draw took his place behind Lord Parable, his own mount a slender black horse. He looked out over the crowds and wagons.
Was he looking for me?
Someone tugged at the hem of my pants. “Lady Witch,” a young boy not more than ten stammered. I recognized him as the old woman’s helper who had opened my bags in front of the court. “A letter for you.” As soon as the scroll touched my hand, he raced away, no doubt scared of the foreign spellcaster who would eat little boys for dessert.
I opened the message curiously enough, then peered at it urgently. The handwriting. It was beautifully loopy, and I just knew it had to be my Fairy Bookmother’s.
Dearest Dottie,
What a time you’re having! Don’t worry, I’m only peeking in here and there.
However, I do feel there’s a few things it’s become necessary for you to know. Yes, the ghostwriter boggled book five, but what you don’t know is that the production company for the TV show has really leaned in to his interpretation. They wanted to darken the series, make it edgy, even though you and I know that’s just not Landsome.
They’ve put a major event on the horizon that I want you to be prepared for. You already know that Ironclaw will eventually rescue his sister who we both know was captured by Amédée. Well, the producers decided that instead of Ironclaw simply saving her, a trade should be made. Ironclaw will trade Lord Draw for his sister’s safety, and Lord Draw will die for it.
I’ve seen a lot of endings but not even I know how to fix this one.
These last few days, you’ve shown tenacity and honesty with yourself. Rely on that. Landsome’s fate—and Lord Draw’s—is in your hands.
Magically,
Your Fairy Bookmother,
The Wondrous Sorrel
My hands shook as I rolled the letter up and tucked it into my satchel. My stomach was nauseous. This wasn’t an adventure. This was a rescue mission. If I couldn’t rely on my knowledge of the series to fix things, if the very man I’d spent countless hours thinking of was preparing to trade away the person I was coming to care for...
All thoughts of saving the book for readers and worries about when I’d eventually go home flew out of my head. Draw was in danger.
I looked back up and found his eyes on me. I was certain panic was written across my face, for his own mouth pressed firm in response as he tried to read me.How was I going to save him?
Just then, a horse stopped by my side. “Lady Dottie,” Ironclaw’s voice rasped. “Good morning.”
I fought to smooth my features and respond, “Good morning, Sir Ironclaw.”
Yesterday I would have been thrilled he sought me out. Today, for the first time, I felt scared in his presence. Could he really trade away his cousin to the Dark Mage?
“The queen asked that I ride with you today. Get to know her new advisor.” I noticed belatedly that though his daggers were at his side, his usual longsword was missing. Instead, a sheath ending in a black hilt was strapped to his saddle.
I looked back to Draw, but he had turned away to face the gate. I’d told Draw how I felt about Ironclaw last night before he kissed me. What did he assume of my proximity to Ironclaw now? I hoped he didn’t take it as anything more than accident. The thought gave me pause. Did that mean I was giving up on the man I’d pined over for years? And what did my growing infatuation with Draw mean in the face of the responsibility I now carried for his life?
I wanted desperately to freeze everything so I could make sense of it all, but suddenly horns trumpeted to signal our march, and the story moved forward.
