Right, because I’m supposed to know the difference between friendly and feral fairy-tale folk?
Lorraine powers forward. Okay, I have a crazy mare leading the way. She’ll protect me from the feral people.
I miss my mirror man, my capons, and Genie. And for sure, Sir Sweeps-A-Lot. That sword, however, can take a walk. Lorraine the noble steed can take his place.
“So,” I say as the breeze whips my hair around my face. “I have an opening for a nonverbal, judgy sidekick. Are you interested?”
She neighs in what sounds like a no. I’m offended.
“It comes with perks,” I coax. “Your life will never be the same. I can guarantee chaos and giggles.”
No sale. Fine, I’ll convince her with my actions. She takes a left, and I think I recognize the town as we thunder through the dark streets. “I hope you know where you’re going.” Lorraine almost flattens a small child carrying a brown sack. “Sorry,” I shout over my shoulder. “Murderous maiden on a mission. I can’t be stopped.”
Well, I’m sure I could stop. It’s my new horse that is a force of nature.
“I think I like you,” I say, my hair slapping my face as I white-knuckle the saddle. People dive out of our path, their curses swept away by the wind.
My back aches, my butt aches, even my arms ache. Riding is no effortless task. Lorraine doesn’t slow, doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t take directions. I have to trust in the magic to get me where I need to be. That is, after all, what brought me back.
The air becomes dense, as if it’s suffocating under a weight of sadness. The familiar castle comes into view, but this is not the kingdom I remember. People shuffle where they once danced. Whispers instead of laughter thread into the fabric of the world. Black fabric flutters against the doorways, marking grief. Surely this cannot still be them mourning Arthur? They seemed rather buoyant on the day of his death.
A sob catches in my throat. Who died to warrant such an outpouring? It had better not be any of my knights. I will track down all Idol scum and make them into sausage meat if they touched a single hair on their pretty heads.
Lorraine slows as we approach a raised iron gate opening into the inner castle courtyard. Two guards move into our path, their swords crossing, barring the way. “No one is to enter on account of the coronation,” one guard declares.
Lorraine shifts side to side with restless energy.
“I’m here for the coronation,” I say.
“It’s about to begin. Wait until after.”
Nope. I lean down closer to Lorraine’s ear. “Are we doing this?” She huffs. I’ll take that as a yes. I bump her flanks with my boots, but she turns and gallops in the opposite direction. “Er, no. I seriously thought we were on the same page.” Damn it. I’m going to have to throw myself off a fast-moving equine. This is going to hurt.
She turns in a tight circle and races back toward the guards. A wide grin spreads across my face. “Now we’re talking.” I lean into her. I like to think I’m helping, but I’m concentrating on not falling off.
The guards look at each other.Don’t you dare stab my horse.Lorraine speeds up, her hooves like thunder. The guy on the left ducks out first. What a mellow. The one on the right holds his position for a split tempo before diving out of the way. We blast our way through the empty courtyard and straight to the stables. I’m so confused. How does she know where she’s going?
An older guy looks up from his perch on a stool, a book in his hand. “Lorraine?” he asks.
Oh my Idols, my horse is famous. Damn straight—she’s an equine legend.
He stumbles to his feet, a frown on his face as he catches the reins. “How did you find her?” he asks.
I tilt my head as I wait for Lorraine to explain how she found me. The man stares at me with a raised brow. “Oh, you mean me? Long story. I was dead, now I’m not, and I need to get to my knights before they get coronated.”
He blinks. “Daphne?”
“Yes?” I mutter as if I’m unsure. I feel like myself, so there’s that. If you forget who you are and convince yourself you are someone different, and they are dead, does that mean you are now them? I’m confused. Did I steal my dead self’s identity? If so, where have I been?
“Quick,” he demands. “I need to take you to them.”
Finally, someone who understands the urgency of the situation. I dismount in the least graceful move ever. Lorraine sticks her nose in my satchel and steals a crunchy apple with a haughty look to rival any princess.
I take a step and cry out at the pain radiating everywhere. I don’t think I’m cut out for lengthy rides. Just mini ones.
“Here, let me help you,” the guy says, offering me a hand.
I clutch it and together we hobble through a door into the castle. The hallways are empty, but the deeper we go, the louder the noise grows, and then suddenly it goes silent.
