Page 43 of Knight's End
I put my hand on top of his. “That’s true. Today has proven it. Has anyone found the sultan’s ring?”
Donaloo shook his head. “We always search longest for the thing we treasure most. The people still look, though they search for a ghost.”
“You think whoever finds it will turn it in?”
Donaloo winks. “Whenever you’re told something is cursed, death to touch, you fear the worst.”
I laughed. “Fair enough. Most likely they’ll turn it in then.”
He winked at me and I smiled, giving a relieved sigh. But then I tasted something awful in the air. I looked around and realized that I’d smelled whatever was in the pouch he was holding. “Ew! What is that?”
“Staying up has a price for the tongue and the price is dung!” Donaloo tossed the foul bag at me with a laugh. It smelled like the worst dog turds. I tossed the bag on the table.
Declan, ever curious, opened it and pulled out a small white tablet. “Smells so much worse than it looks.”
“Just like you,” Ryan quipped.
I glanced over at Quinn, who was sitting at the end of the table, watching the merriment from afar. My sweet naughty knight would normally be interjecting with thoughts and images at every turn. But there he sat, alone, outside the conversation, just an observer, not a participant.
I went over to him and sank onto his lap. I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Then I wrapped my arms around him, saying nothing, because he could say nothing. Instead, I showed him I loved him by wrapping him up in my arms as hard as I could and refusing to let go, even when Declan pitched one of the foul white tablets at us.
“You shite!” I turned my back so that the tablet bounced off of it and back onto the table.
“Stop playing favorites then!”
That just caused Quinn to hold me tighter and shove his tongue out at Declan.
The little bit of playfulness from my silent knight had me relieved. He was so quiet. I stroked his cheek while talk resumed around me—talk of weapons and inventories, of troops and refugees. Talk filled my ears until my eyes drifted shut and I fell asleep in Quinn’s arms, most definitely avoiding Donaloo’s tablets.
The next morning, Jace arrived back at the castle with our unruly gargoyles in tow. He’d had to chain them together to fly them home. And his haggard look told me they hadn’t cooperated.
The beast master and I spent a day training with them while my knights went off to different spots, all working on perfecting their new powers.
Quinn and Blue went off to spy on people in Marscha before the sun or I awoke. Quinn insisted—via the parchment note he left on my pillow in the morning—that Blue needed to get used to hearing strangers’ thoughts en masse. His note said: “If we’re going to take him into battle, Dove, he’ll need to get used to the din.” He’d also written that he’d come back with a list of wishes for me, ones he thought might help us. I’d crumpled the parchment on reading that. I wouldn’t use another wish. Not when I’d seen what wishes cost Blue and Quinn.
Ryan and Declan had snuck out of bed after I’d yawned and stretched. They had taken turns kissing my cheek as I’d begged them to sleep next to me just a few more minutes.
“Can’t, Peace,” Declan whispered as he stroked my hair. “See, this whole power switch has gotten me thinking. Your magic allows an exchange of an intangible for a tangible. I’d always believed my magic only dealt with tangible items. My entire list of opposites is built on that. But what if Ryan could multiply heat and decrease cold? What if he could decrease the volume of a siren’s call and multiply our battle cries? Or another possibility—”
I’d chucked a pillow at my scholar. “It’s too early to be excited.”
Next to me Connor had groaned and agreed. “Shut it.”
He’d been up half the night, reviewing the seven kingdoms—their strengths and weaknesses, the sizes of their armies. I’d woken in the middle of the night to see him hunched over the desk near the bed—candle flickering as he scratched away at a piece of parchment. I’d gotten up and kissed him.
“Any revelations?” I’d whispered.
“Just that we need Sedara and probably Gitmore.”
I had nodded and snuffed his candlelight with my fingers, dragging him into bed with the rest of us. I’d fallen back asleep dreaming about the reclusive country, its vast desert and its mysterious black castle. Gitmore had once rivaled Sedara; it was the only country with a magical military big enough to take on our foes.
Ryan and Declan had yanked the covers off of Connor and me.
“Get up, you lazy ducks,” Ryan said. “I need those gargoyles trained toot suite.”
I bit my thumb at him as he and Declan laughed and headed out.
Connor dragged himself up beside me. He went over to the basin and splashed some water on his face. “I’m headed out today with a small group of soldiers to the Cerulean Forest.”
