Page 77 of Wickedly Ever After
How could she be so foolish? He’d had his differences with her, which was understandable when he was wicked and she was good, but he’d always found it reassuring to have at least one person in the world who knew what he’d endured in the past. Granted, the Northern Mountains had never seen the kind of devastation he’d witnessed in what had once been the breadbasket of the kingdom, but still, she should remember how hard it had been waking up every morning knowing there was no breakfast, wondering if the smoke on the horizon was a charcoal burner taking advantage of a destroyed forest that some giant had knocked down or if it was a warlord’s army on the march and no one in his family would survive to eat dinner, if that existed anymore.
He could not—could not!—allow that to happen again. Happily-Ever-After must be saved. The warning signs that thefractures were spreading were obvious even here, when he saw the tiny fruits swinging red and wrinkled on an apple tree that was just beginning to flower. He knelt in the grass, parting it until he found the stone that marked where he needed to dig.
He didn’t have far to go. His shovel struck a box after only six inches of earth had been removed. He knelt and carefully dug it out of the damp soil. He didn’t need to open it, but he did anyway, fitting the silver key that he’d taken from the library desk drawer. Inside, his heart beat, an organ darker than the velvet night settling over his castle.
He should have done this years ago—a thousand years ago to be precise. Ida had clearly done away with hers, probably the day he’d sworn her in as a Cardinal Witch, or she’d have never been able to condemn an entire world to destruction just to salve her conscience. The worst part was that the moment she’d said it—Happily-Ever-After was wrong—he’d actuallywishedshe might be right.
That was pure selfishness—the selfishness of an eighteen-year-old boy holding a black rose seed and thinking that running away from home might have been a mistake after all. His heart had helped him then, giving him the courage to face what he would have to do to preserve everything the world needed. But it was a hindrance now.
He filled in the hole.
The box, he carried back to the castle.
***
The next morning dawned misty, but by the time Hector led Ida into the foothills of the Dread Mountains, a sun as hot as summer could make it had baked the sky dry. He sweated underhis robe as he took the lead onto the path that would take them to the Flamelord’s lair.
He hadn’t been this way in probably six hundred years—not on foot anyway. But when he was younger, he’d hiked his way through these mountains, starting when he was an apprentice and his mentor sent him out for a six-month quest to discover the people who would be part of his life as their Wicked Witch. He’d enjoyed it: meeting giants, making friends with the dragons, getting nearly seduced by an attractive chimera who seemed to know he liked men as well as women, and making the acquaintance of Adorphus, who strung him up by his toes for filching pickled eyeballs before deciding he wasn’t such a bad sort...for a human.
Ida hiked behind him, wearing a set of his boots she’d enchanted to fit her feet. She’d not said a word to him that day except “good morning” and “did you pack an extra umbrella” since they’d left the castle. Beside her, Tinbit led a furry goblin pony carrying their baggage—warmer clothes for the mountains mostly, but food as well, and Tinbit’s cooking gear. Hari perched on top, looking much better but still pale.
Hector cleared his throat. “When we reach Wyrm’s Pass, we’ll call it a day. Sebastian is expecting us.”
“Oh, joy,” Tinbit said in a tone that implied he was anything but joyful about the prospect.
Ida said nothing, merely leaned on the spare staff he’d loaned her.
“Why is it called Wyrm’s Pass?” Hari asked.
“For the worms, of course,” Tinbit said. “Nasty things. They burrow under your skin and cause a horrible rash. Hector read about them in a book and thought they sounded fun.”
“I did not think they were fun. They sounded like a good,solid obstacle for questing knights. It’s important a man face his own mortality with a good case of uncontrollable itching. So much more useful in building character than slaying the blind worms who used to live here. Extinct long ago. The king used to send his knights to fight them for sport. That’s royalty for you.”
Ida’s shoulders went up an inch.
“How long to reach the dragons?” Hari asked.
“We should reach the Flamelord’s home tomorrow evening. After that, I don’t know. It will depend on whether Alistair told his parents anything about his lair. His mother at least will have some idea of where it is. It may not be accessible by foot. Dragons fly from cave to cave far more than they walk. His parents may need to give us a ride.” Not exactly something he was looking forward to, either. Dragons were not for riding.
Ida said nothing.
Hector glanced over his shoulder and caught Tinbit’s curious look. He faced front again, squaring up to the task ahead of them. The less the gnome knew about his falling out with Ida, the better. He’d been worried Cear might ask, but since they’d set out, the salamander had not left their firepot. “We’ll get an early start in the morning, as long as I can convince Sebastian not to make a big deal over our visit. He’s prone to going overboard for things like this, and—”
“You rang?”
Ida yelped as a head popped up next to her elbow.
The grotesque thing turned toward her with a grin. “Her Goodness, Ida North! My, my, this is an unexpected pleasure. Shall I put on a spider pie and a cup of mud for you both? Delighted, delighted—”
Hector shut him up with a well-placed cork.
The ghoul spat it out and glared at him. “That was uncalled for, you mean thing.”
“So was spider pie and a cup of mud. All I require are rooms for the night. No spider pie. No mud. And no popping out of the sheets as a cut up corpse. We’re here on business, not pleasure, Sebastian.”
“After the prodigal dragon, are we?” Sebastian grinned and rolled his bloodshot eyes.
“What makes you say that?”
