Here’s the next chapter in the ongoing serial story. If you missed the beginning, you can find it here. The previous chapter is here. Or if you’re impatient and want to just read the whole thing, the e-book is now available.

Chapter Fifteen

With Mariel gone, Dawn figured she was safe on the showboat, so she left the cabin. As soon as she came on deck, Spink flew over to her. “Why did the show end so soon?” the bird chirped.

She didn’t have time to explain, with Jeremy on the verge of being caught. “I need you to fly over to Jeremy on the boat two berths upstream and warn him that the enchantresses are coming,” she said.

The bird cocked its head at her, and she worried it would ask why, but it just said, “A mission! I’m good at those!” before flying away.

“Hurry!” Dawn called after it, adding, “And try not to be noticed.” Now all she needed was a good diversion to give Jeremy the chance to get away. She spotted her duet partner and whispered, “Psst! Will!” He looked around and came over once he saw her. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course! Anything! I’ve never had so much applause as when you sang with me, and imagine if we weren’t interrupted.”

“I need a big, loud noise, maybe some flashing light. Anything that will attract attention.”

He gave her a grin that made her nervous. “I know just the thing.” He grabbed a couple of torches, ran to the front of the now-empty stage, and started juggling. That certainly got the attention of the crowd still milling on the docks. Even the enchantresses turned around to look. He grabbed a third and a fourth torch for more juggling.

Dawn ran up to the aft deck to look for Jeremy. He’d apparently got the warning in time because he slipped over the side of the boat and disappeared under the water. She held her breath until his head appeared a good distance away. Then he dove under again. Down on the stage, Will had started an act with fire, lighting various things and doing dangerous-looking stunts with them. What he didn’t know was that behind him, Rhian and a strange man she must have found on the dock had been all tangled up in each other in a corner of the deck, and with all the fire, they were now thoroughly illuminated.

The dress Rhian had taken from Dawn hung halfway off her shoulder, and the skirt was practically around her waist as she wrapped her legs around the man, whose hands were tangled in her hair. Will remained oblivious as he concentrated on his flaming torches, but he was the only one who hadn’t noticed. The rest of the crew gathered around the edges of the stage, pointing and snickering. Dawn felt like she ought to warn Rhian, but she wasn’t sure how.

The crowd oohed and aahed at each of Will’s stunts, then they noticed the couple in the background. First one or two people laughed and pointed it out to their neighbors, then word spread throughout the crowd until the entire audience roared with laughter. Will turned around in confusion, saw them, and blurted, “Rhian? What are you doing here?” That was when the couple realized they were being watched.

The man shoved Rhian off his lap, adjusted his clothes, and ran for the gangplank. Rhian picked herself up from the deck and headed for the cabin, not even bothering to straighten her dress. Huw went after Rhian, shouting about her lack of modesty, and while the rest of the crew laughed, Will finished his act. As soon as he doused his torches, a group from the troupe came on stage to act out a comic version of what had just happened, with the oblivious couple getting into more and more outrageous positions, which made the crowd roar even louder. In all that commotion, a soaking wet Jeremy crawled up from the river onto the dock and ran up the gangplank.

Without thinking about it, Dawn ran to hug him and got Rhian’s borrowed dress drenched in the process. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” he said, moving her away. “I’m also soaking, and I don’t think you want that river water on you.”

She hugged him again. “I was so worried when I saw those enchantresses heading for the boat.”

“I got your warning, and then something seemed to distract them. I take it you arranged that?”

“It turns out that Will is not only a talented baritone, he’s also quite the pyromaniac.”

He hugged her so tightly he lifted her off her feet. “You were brilliant. I would have been so busted if you hadn’t done that.”

“What did you find?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Do you think I’d have left Lucy there if I’d found her? And I searched the boat pretty well.”

The sound of Lucy’s name reminded her that Jeremy was spoken for, so she wormed her way out of his arms and stepped away. “You’d better get on some dry clothes.”

“And you, too,” he said, looking like he was fighting back a grin. She glanced down at her dress and saw that it became rather transparent when it was wet.

She was about to go change when she saw Huw pull Rhian into their cabin for what Dawn suspected was a good scolding, judging by the roar of his voice. On the deck, the other performers went back to playing out the scene for each other in pantomime, dance, and song, to much laughter.

Jeremy watched it all, his brow creased in confusion. “I take it I missed something good while I was out swimming,” he said after a while.

“Will’s diversion revealed Rhian being naughty—and her dad saw it,” Dawn explained.

“Oh, that is good. Too bad I missed it.”

“I kind of feel sorry for her.”

“Sorry for her?”

“That had to be embarrassing, and now everyone’s making fun of her.”

“Have you considered that she might deserve it? If she’d been nicer to people, they’d have warned her or helped her.”

“Still, I can’t help but feel responsible. If I hadn’t asked Will to create a diversion, she wouldn’t be in this fix.”

He caught her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “If you hadn’t asked Will to create a diversion, the enchantresses might have caught me on their boat, and there’s no telling what might have happened. You might have even saved my life. I’m okay with trading that for a few moments of embarrassment for Rhian.” He paused, tilted his head to one side and raised an eyebrow. “When you say ‘naughty,’ what, exactly, do you mean?”

Dawn felt her face growing uncomfortably warm, and she was glad it was dark enough that he couldn’t see her blushing. “She was kissing a man from the docks. And maybe a little more than kissing. I couldn’t tell. I was more worried about looking out for you.”

“So, she kisses on the first date?”

“Jeremy! You wouldn’t!”

He waggled his eyebrows. “No, but apparently she would.”

“You need to change clothes,” she said, hurrying to change the subject. She had the distressing sense that she hadn’t protested on Lucy’s behalf, and she didn’t want to think about that. She also didn’t want to think about how warm his hands were. The dress she’d borrowed from Rhian hung off one shoulder, so he was touching her bare skin there, and it felt so good it was almost uncomfortable.

“So do you.”

“Mine are almost dry. You’re still dripping. And I can’t change clothes until you let go of my shoulders.”

“Oh, right.” He immediately removed his hands and stepped away. “I guess I’ll go change clothes.”

In spite of her claim that her clothes were nearly dry, Dawn went to the crew cabin and changed into her own clothes. Rhian’s dress had made her self-conscious, and she felt better covered up. She came back out on deck to find that Jeremy was already out there, demonstrating the art of making s’mores with the supplies he had in his pack for the hike he’d missed. He sounded like a showman, himself, and the troupe watched him with hushed anticipation. “First, you take a simple stick,” he said, holding one up with a flourish. “Whittle a sharp end.” With his pocketknife, he shaved one end to a point. “Thread on a marshmallow, and hold it over the fire, like so, rotating it carefully so it toasts evenly.”

Dawn had seen him make s’mores plenty of times, but she found herself caught up in his demonstration. She knew he wasn’t doing it entirely seriously, and that was what made it so enchanting. Whenever he caught her eye, he winked, making her have to fight a fit of giggles.

His marshmallow started burning, and he pulled it quickly away from the fire, whirling it expertly to put the flames out. “Don’t worry, folks,” he said. “That’s part of the process. Happens all the time. In fact, I like mine with a bit of a char on it. But now that we have a nice, toasty marshmallow, we can really make some magic.” He set the toasted marshmallow on top of a graham cracker square with a piece of chocolate on it, took another graham cracker square, placed it on top of the marshmallow, and deftly slid the stick out of the marshmallow. “A moment or two to let the marshmallow melt the chocolate, and then we’ve got a treat,” Jeremy said, presenting the s’more to one of the women in the troupe.

She took a bite, and melted chocolate dribbled on her chin, but she didn’t seem to mind. “Oh, this is good!” she said around a mouthful of graham cracker and marshmallow. “I’ve never had anything like it.” The group burst into applause, and Spink, perching on Dawn’s shoulder, gave a high-pitched trill of a whistle.

Everyone else then wanted to try one. Jeremy got them carving their own sticks, and Dawn hoped he had enough ingredients to feed them all. “I should find a place for him in the show,” Huw murmured into Dawn’s ear. She hadn’t heard him approach her. “Or he could be an excellent barker. Even so, he doesn’t have your talent. Have you always sung?”

“Oh, yes. My whole life, even before I knew any songs. I just made them up and sang to myself. Later I started learning music and taking music classes in school.”

“It’s a natural talent that comes easily to you?”

“I guess so. I’ve never really thought about where it came from.”

“And tell me, Mistress Nightingale, how long is all your life? That is, how old are you?”

“I just turned sixteen, the day before I came here. Why?”

“You have talent beyond your years, yet you also have the innocence of a child. That made it difficult to guess your age.”

“My friend Lucy says I lead a very sheltered life.”

“You came from very far away, didn’t you? From so far away that it’s practically another world.”

She couldn’t stop herself from gasping in shock as she whirled to face him directly. From her shoulder, Spink sang, “She’s the girl from far, far away!”

“What makes you think that?” Dawn asked Huw.

He patted her on the arm. “Relax, child. Where you come from means nothing to me. But you are a mystery, and I never could resist a mystery. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to try one of your friend’s treats.” As he walked away, Rhian joined him. Dawn hadn’t realized she was standing nearby. The look Rhian shot her made it clear she’d heard the whole conversation, and it seemed she did care where Dawn came from.

Dawn would have worried about what Huw meant about her being a mystery, but she didn’t have time to fret. Will came over to her, grinning. “Have you tried one of these s’mores? They’re wonderful!”

“We have them all the time back home.” She thought of the few times she’d been allowed to spend the night with Lucy and camp out in her back yard. Jeremy always came over to build a campfire for them. “Jeremy’s a good cook as long as a fire is involved,” she added, repeating a joke Lucy often made.

“How would one cook without a fire?”

She hadn’t thought of it that way, but she just shook her head and laughed instead of trying to explain stoves and electric ovens. Some of the musicians began playing a merry jig, and Will held out a hand to her. She took it, and he put an arm around her waist to spin her across the deck. Spink flew off as soon as they started moving. At the beginning of the next song, Jeremy appeared next to them, and Will gallantly let him cut in. Jeremy wasn’t as good a dancer as Will was, but he did seem to be trying to put actual dance steps to the music, even if his sense of rhythm was somewhat lacking. Once he relaxed and got the feel of it, though, he did far better.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” she said.

“It’s a closely guarded secret, and it’s all Lucy’s fault. I don’t remember what movie it was that got her into it, but she was determined to act out some scene where people danced, and I was the only convenient boy, so she made me be her partner. I guess it was only fair, since I made her learn to climb trees when I was obsessed with Tarzan, and there were far fewer injuries from the dancing.”

Dawn laughed at the mental image of a very young Jeremy being bossed into dancing by Lucy, even as that image also gave her a twinge of something that might have been jealousy. “She can get you to do just about anything, can’t she?”

“It did work both ways, and we got into a lot less trouble when she was in charge. But if you tell anyone at school about the dancing, you’ll pay for it.”

“Oh? What will you do to me?”

“I’ll think of something, and I’m very creative.” He dropped her into a dip, then pulled her upright again. “That, I learned from a spy movie. Apparently, the tango is important for international super spies.”

She would have laughed at that, since he’d clearly said it as a joke, but she couldn’t catch her breath. She became uncomfortably aware of the feel of his hand on her back and her hand in his other one. When the music changed to a slower song, she thought she ought to move away, but she didn’t really want to, so she let him pull her closer. “Lucy taught you well,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. “Or was this in the spy movies, too?”

“I got a lot of practice with Lucy. I only put up with it because I thought it would be useful for my career as the next James Bond.” As close as they were, he spoke directly into her ear, and his breath on her neck made her shiver.

He spun her around, and she noticed Huw standing off to the side, watching them. She was so distracted wondering what he was thinking that she missed her footing, and Jeremy had to catch her with an arm around her waist to keep her from falling. “You okay?” he asked.

“Sorry. I let my mind wander. Do you think Huw is acting odd?”

“I don’t know him well enough to know what counts as odd for him.”

“He was asking me questions earlier, about where I came from and how I learned to sing, and now he seems to be watching everything I do.”

“Well, odd things do keep happening to you. If I were him, I’d be wondering about you, too.”

When the song ended, one of the men called Jeremy over to help with the s’mores, and Huw approached him. Huw put one hand on Jeremy’s shoulder and said something, his face very solemn. Jeremy glanced over at Dawn, then turned back to Huw and nodded. Dawn was dying of curiosity, so she went up to Jeremy as soon as Huw moved away and asked, “What did he say to you?”

“He told me to keep an eye on you and not to let you out of my sight once we’re in the capital.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. But it’s not bad advice.” He put his arm around her shoulders and said, “I wasn’t planning on letting you out of my sight, anyway. You’re stuck with me, lady.” She knew he was joking yet again, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to stay in the circle of his arm, where she felt safe and warm.

***

As exhausted as she was, Lucy had a terrible time sleeping that night, she was so worried about Sebastian. Surely they wouldn’t just execute him as a spy without at least a pretend trial, and surely they wouldn’t hold a mock trial until the next day. She had a plan, but it had to wait until morning, which meant the best thing she could do for Sebastian was get some rest while she had the chance.

Early the next morning, while the other camp servants were still asleep, she got up to wash her face and dampen her hair so it wouldn’t be quite so frizzy. She unclasped Dawn’s necklace from around her bra strap and refastened it around her neck. Then she lurked near the duke’s tent and waited for the servants to bring breakfast. One of the servants was a young girl even smaller than Lucy, and she struggled with a heavy tray. Lucy stepped up to her, took the tray, and said, “Here, let me help you with that. Run along and get some breakfast.”

The girl hesitated, but Lucy already had her tray, so she shrugged and took off, and Lucy entered the duke’s tent. It took a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light, but she instantly recognized Geoffrey. He looked like a slightly older version of Sebastian. His hair was a little curlier and had the first signs of silver showing at the temples, but they both had the same eyes. Either the guards were utterly stupid or they’d never actually seen the duke up close, or else they’d have believed Sebastian was who he said he was. Unless, of course, they were so convinced of his death that they couldn’t even consider that possibility.

Geoffrey sat with some other men at a folding table covered with maps. Lucy stood by with her tray until they moved the maps aside. As she bent to set down the tray, she whispered, “Nice sword, your grace, but it’s not quite Fireblade, is it?” She held her breath as she turned and made as to go about her duties. Would he take the bait? She moved as slowly as she could toward the tent’s doorway, her heart sinking with each step when the duke didn’t say anything.

She was almost to the exit when a voice behind her called out, “You there! Stop!”

She turned to see the duke glaring at her. “Yes, your grace?” she asked, trying to sound innocent.

“Come here, girl.” She came closer, stopping right in front of him with a curtsy. “How did you hear about Fireblade?”

“From your brother, Sebastian.”

“When and where did you hear it?” he asked in a voice colder than the ice cream freezer at the drugstore.

“Last night, in this camp, after he was arrested as a spy by your idiot guards who refused to believe he was who he said he was, even though he looks just like you.”

Geoffrey turned an ashy gray color. “But my brother is dead. Lord Argus said he would kill Sebastian if I moved against the witch, but I couldn’t put my own wishes ahead of the good of the kingdom.”

That explained a lot. So, Lord Argus had used Sebastian as a hostage to keep his brother in line. “Well, it looks like he got away just in time, then. He said a Sergeant Fulk told him to rescue the princess from the dungeon.”

“He was with the princess? Where is she?”

Lucy took a deep breath. She’d never actually claimed to be the princess before, just let people assume. This would be the first time she actually came out and said she was the princess, but she told herself she was only doing it to save Sebastian’s life. “She’s right here. I’m the princess. The guards didn’t believe me, either. And before you say anything, I know I don’t look or sound like a princess, but I spent my whole life in hiding in another world, and I’ve spent the past few days running around in the forest with your brother. I don’t think anyone would look like royalty after what we’ve been through.” Well, Dawn might, but she was a real princess magically gifted with beauty and grace.

She waited for Geoffrey to respond, but he just stared at her, frowning, like he was assessing her claims. “I’m wearing the royal insignia,” she added, pointing to Dawn’s necklace.

“You claim to be the Princess Aurora, rescued from the castle dungeons by my brother Sebastian and brought here to me?”

She resisted the urge to cross her fingers behind her back when she said, “Yes, that’s what I claim. Only the plan was originally to take me to some other safe house where the Loyalists were going to take care of me. But you’ve got either a traitor or a spy because the witch was there waiting for us. We got away, but since all your passwords and signals had been compromised, Sebastian thought the only thing to do was bring me to you.”

“That does add up,” Geoffrey said with a slow nod. “I’d heard about the safe house being compromised and our people there slaughtered. But no one mentioned that Sebastian was the one given charge of the princess.” His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward. “How do I know you’re not an imposter sent by the witch while she has the true princess in custody? Anyone could wear that insignia.”

It was Lucy’s turn to go pale. At least, she felt like all the blood had rushed out of her face and was weighing down her stomach. It would be impossible to prove she wasn’t an imposter when she really was one. “Why don’t you talk to your brother about it? He’s convinced I’m for real, and I’m sure you’ll believe who he is when you see him.”

She held her breath, waiting to see how he took her challenge. After a long pause, he waved over one of his men and ordered him to bring the prisoner. Lucy relaxed ever so slightly at that. She had no doubt whatsoever that Sebastian would be in the clear as soon as Geoffrey saw him. That mission, at least, was accomplished. Now all she had to do was keep from being proved a fraud long enough for Sebastian to be freed. After that, did it matter if they all knew who she really was?

Geoffrey poured himself a drink from the pitcher on the tray Lucy had brought and ate a roll. He seemed remarkably composed for someone who might soon be reunited with his long-lost brother and who might be facing his princess. That made Lucy nervous. If he believed she was who she claimed to be, would he be eating in front of her while making her stand?

Soon, the men returned with Sebastian. He still had his hands bound behind his back, and even in the dim light of the tent he looked even worse than he had by flashlight the night before. He now obviously needed a shave, he had the beginnings of a spectacular black eye, in addition to a number of other bruises, and he had dark circles under his eyes. If Lucy hadn’t washed his face the night before, he’d have really looked like a hobo.

But he still looked like himself, and that meant he looked enough like his brother for the resemblance to be obvious to anyone with eyes. Geoffrey glanced up as his men brought Sebastian in, and the mug he held slipped out of his hand and crashed onto the ground. Lucy had only thought he’d gone pale before. Now there was absolutely no color left in his face, not even in his lips. “Sebastian?” he croaked.

Sebastian held his head defiantly high, but he’d also gone a little pale. “Yes.”

“You’re not dead.”

“Not yet.”

That snapped Geoffrey out of it. “Untie him,” he barked. When the guards cut through the ropes, Sebastian rubbed his wrists. They were red and chafed, but not raw and bloody, so he must have listened to Lucy about staying still. Geoffrey stood and approached his brother. “Who did this to you?” he asked, gesturing at the bruises.

“Your men,” Sebastian replied coolly.

Geoffrey turned to his aide. “Bring me the men who arrested him.”

Lucy couldn’t help but grin at the thought of the comeuppance they’d get. She’d warned them. Grinning probably wasn’t appropriate at a time like this, but nobody was looking at her. Geoffrey seemed to have forgotten she was even there, and Sebastian was too focused on his brother to have noticed her presence.

“You’ve grown,” Geoffrey said after a while.

“That happens.”

“You must be, what, seventeen now?”

“Eighteen this winter. I was to have been knighted.”

“Ah, yes, I recall that. Lord Argus kept me apprised of that much, at least.” Abruptly, Geoffrey let out something between a sob and a groan and grabbed his startled brother in a big, bone-crushing hug. Lucy’s eyes stung with tears even as she winced at the way that hug must have hurt all of Sebastian’s bruises. “I thought I’d lost you for good,” Geoffrey eventually choked out. “He kept you away from us all that time. I never should have sent you to him.”

Eventually Sebastian got over his shock well enough to awkwardly pat his brother on the back. He looked a little lost, like he wasn’t sure what to make of this situation. All those years of thinking he’d been abandoned, and now he was greeted with hugs and tears.

Geoffrey got himself back under control and stepped away from Sebastian. “Mother will be overjoyed to see you,” he said, his voice still rough. Sounding more businesslike, he added, “I understand you were the one sent to rescue the princess.”

With a glance at Lucy, Sebastian said warily, “Yes. Sergeant Fulk sent me to get her out of the dungeon and to the Loyalists.”

“And you believe that this girl is the Princess Aurora?”

Sebastian gave Lucy another glance. “Yes, of course. She wears the royal insignia, and she’s clearly been living far away, the way the princess was said to be. Don’t you hear how strangely she speaks? And she’s just the way the princess was said to be in all the tales.”

As far as Lucy could remember the Sleeping Beauty story, the princess was magically gifted with beauty, grace, charm, and song. She would have thought brains or wisdom might have been a good idea for someone who would one day rule a kingdom, but that never seemed to show up on the list. Maybe that was what got left out when the last Enchantress used her magical gift to change the curse from dying to sleeping.

The thing was, Lucy didn’t actually have any of those gifts. Bless his heart, but Sebastian must have had it really bad if that was the way he saw her. Unfortunately, she doubted Geoffrey saw her in quite the same way.

He turned to Lucy and bent to study the insignia she wore. “That is the royal necklace, and I’ll wager it has the magical properties, as well.”

“It did repel Melantha’s magic when she caught us in her trap,” Sebastian said.

“I don’t suppose you’d care to favor us with a song, your highness?” Geoffrey asked pleasantly enough, but with a crafty gleam in his eyes.

“Excuse me?” Lucy asked.

“The stories say the Princess Aurora was magically gifted with song. I’d feel better about putting you forward as the princess if you could demonstrate that gift.”

Unfortunately, Lucy wasn’t magically gifted. She could sing. She’d always been in children’s and youth choirs at church, and she could carry a tune pretty well. She just wasn’t in Dawn’s magically gifted league, and if she tried to sing, surely Geoffrey would be convinced she was an imposter.

Then again, the princess had also supposedly been gifted with great beauty, and no one had yet challenged Lucy on the fact that she wasn’t exactly Miss America. Maybe their standards for music were equally low.

“Okay, I guess,” she finally said. “But I’m warning you, I’m out of practice. And I’ve been running around in the woods for days, which is horrible for the voice.”

Of course, the moment someone asked her to just sing something, it became impossible to think of anything to sing. Her mind had gone totally blank. Lucy wasn’t even sure she could have managed “Happy Birthday to You” without forgetting half the words. She finally settled on “Amazing Grace,” since she was sure she knew the words—to the first verse, at least—and with a little sincerity she thought she could make it sound good in its pure simplicity even without Dawn’s unnatural talent. Her voice only shook a little when she started, and she managed to get through it all without making a complete fool of herself. She could hardly bear to look at Geoffrey when she finished. Would she be exposed as a fraud or accepted as a princess?

Continued in Chapter Sixteen.

Here’s the next chapter of the ongoing serial. The formatting may look a little different because of what I had to do to the file in order to turn it into an e-book. The book will be coming very soon. I’m formatting it now. If you missed the beginning, you can find it here. The previous chapter is here.

Chapter Fourteen

The boat pulled up at a village just before dusk and the crew set up the stage. The area around the docks was crowded with people by the time the sun had set completely. Dawn felt the rush of adrenaline she got before every show, flooding her body with a wave of energy that would make her explode if she didn’t sing, dance, or find some other way to let it out. Performing wasn’t just fun for her. It was vital to her life.

She and the troupe gathered on stage behind the curtain, and at a signal from Huw, Jeremy and one of the other men pulled the rope to draw the curtain aside. The lanterns around the stage were so bright that Dawn couldn’t see much of the audience other than a general blob of people, but their applause was loud and enthusiastic. She put on her biggest smile as they began the initial group number.

After a few songs as a group, they rotated among soloists and smaller ensembles. Soon, it was time for Dawn and Will to perform. She’d never sung with another person with so little rehearsal—he’d heard the songs for the first time only hours ago—but that only made the performance more exciting for her. His voice had a maturity that fit better with her voice than anyone else she’d ever sung with. It wasn’t too hard to get into character and imagine herself singing to her beloved. She was just feeling truly romantic at a quiet moment in a song when a voice from the crowd shouted, “Dawn!”

She froze. The first thought to cross her mind was that whoever it was had totally broken the mood and ruined the song. But then she realized that she hadn’t been introduced by name. No one outside the crew should know who she was. At that moment, the curtain swished rapidly across the stage, and she hurriedly stepped back as it closed in front of her. She turned to see Jeremy still holding on to the curtain pull and staring at her, his face white.

She ran over to him. “Why did you do that?” she asked. “We were in the middle of a song.”

“Look,” he said, pointing to the shore. From his vantage point at the side of the stage, there was less light on the boat, and that made it easier to see the audience. There was a commotion on the dock, where someone seemed to be trying to shove through the crowd—someone wearing a big white collar.

Then the sky lit up. It was as though someone had pulled the moon a lot closer to the ground. A cool light flooded everything. Jeremy pulled Dawn back against the aft cabin, where there was still some shadow. “Dawn!” the voice cried again, and this time Dawn was sure it was Mariel. They’d found her, and they were coming after her.

A shadow loomed over them, and Dawn jumped before she realized it was Huw. “It sounds like someone is looking for you,” he said mildly, as though people interrupted his performances with magical light every day.

“Yes, and I don’t want to be found,” Dawn replied, surprised by how steady her voice sounded. “I escaped from those people, and I won’t go back.” She added, still not sure whether or not it was true, “They kidnapped me and took me away from my family. I finally figured out the truth and got away.”

He nodded and grinned. “Very well, then. I enjoy any opportunity to thwart those old crows.” He reached up and waved a hand, and the eerie light faded. He waved his hand again, and the dock became blurry, as though they were looking at it through thick glass. “Now, take her to my cabin.”

Jeremy and Dawn ran into Huw’s cabin, bolting the door behind them. “You don’t have to hold your breath,” Jeremy said after a while, a fond smile in his voice. He put his arm around her shoulders, and she let herself lean against him as she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I don’t think they’ll hear you breathing.”

“With them? You never know.”

“Do you think it’s true, what you said to Huw about them?”

“I don’t know. They’re certainly coming after me.”

“Want me to go check?”

She didn’t want to be alone, and his arm around her was so very comforting, but she did want to know what was happening. “Won’t they recognize you?”

“Please! After all this time, they still call me ‘that boy.’” He took one of Huw’s hats and a cape from a hook on the wall. “And I’ll be in disguise. I’ll be right back.”

As she paced nervously while she waited for him, another thought occurred to her: What if the enchantresses had Lucy? The aunts had known something about Lucy’s disappearance, so maybe the other enchantresses’ men had brought the wrong girl back to this world. And that might mean that she, Dawn, was the one who was supposed to be with them.

There was a knock on the cabin door and Jeremy’s voice said, “It’s me.” She rushed to open the door. “They have a boat nearby, and the enchantresses are all over the docks,” he reported. “I couldn’t tell if the aunts were with them or on their own. Huw’s out there arguing with one of the aunts, trying to convince them it’s a case of mistaken identity and you’re his sister’s youngest daughter, just joining the troupe.”

“I thought of something while you were gone. What if it was the enchantresses who took Lucy?”

“Then she might be on their boat. Let’s find out.”

She reached out to stop him, but her fingers only brushed his sleeve as he left. Soon, there was a sharp rap on the door, and Dawn opened it to see Rhian. “Take off your dress,” Rhian said.

“What?”

“Come on, we don’t have much time. Da’s out there trying to convince one of those enchantresses that she has you mistaken for somebody else. I get to play you.” She looked happy to be helping Dawn, which was a welcome change. Dawn hurried to pull off her dress.

Rhian stripped off her clothing and pulled Dawn’s dress on before leaving the cabin. Dawn reluctantly put on Rhian’s discarded dress so she wouldn’t be stuck sitting around in her underwear. The bodice was loose on her, and the skirt barely came to her ankles.

Waiting was incredibly frustrating. It seemed like everyone but her was involved in this scheme to protect her. Jeremy was out investigating, Huw was lying and doing magic, and Rhian was pretending to be the girl who’d performed. It didn’t help matters that her finger itched again, making her even more irritable. Dawn went to one of the portholes to try to look out. The glass was thick and wavy, which made it hard to see through, but the window did open. She nudged it open just enough to get a sliver of view, then ducked quickly when she noticed Mariel on the dock, talking with two other enchantresses. She cautiously peered out the window to watch what they did next. They met up with a larger group of enchantresses, and they all headed toward a boat. She ran to the aft porthole just in time to see Jeremy appear on the deck of a boat docked upstream. They were heading right toward him, and he’d be caught.

***

Sebastian couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “But–but I’m not dead,” he stammered. “I’m here, with the princess. Sergeant Fulk sent me to get her out of the dungeon. I’ve left the service of Lord Argus and returned home.”

“Lord Argus is a traitor,” the guard spat.

“I know. But being in his service allowed me to rescue the princess.”

“I take it this is the princess?”

The guard went over to the princess, eyeing her up and down. She stared at him defiantly and said, “What if we are who we say we are? How will it go for you if the duke finds out you kept us from him and tied us up? I know how it’ll go for you when I’m in my proper position. Speaking of which, what’s your name? I want to be sure to remember it.”

For a brief moment, it almost seemed like the guard would buckle under her threat, but then he stepped back with a laugh. “You, a princess?”

Her cheeks flushed bright red as she said, “I’ve got the royal insignia.”

“Where?”

“Hidden, of course, you moron. The witch and all her people are looking for me. Do you think I’d be wearing it openly? It’s called a disguise. Hello!”

Sebastian had to admit that she didn’t look much like a princess at the moment, in spite of her regal bearing and fierce words. She was filthy, her clothes were torn, and her hair was a rat’s nest. He imagined he looked no better after all their adventures. Even if he looked like his usual self, he doubted anyone would recognize him. When he’d left Grantley, he’d been a scrawny, freckle-faced child. He wasn’t even sure he’d recognize his own brother if he were brought to the duke’s tent. The one time he’d seen Geoffrey at court, he’d only known him by his ducal regalia.

The guard leaned closer to the princess and pawed at her clothing, searching for the insignia while taking full advantage of the opportunity to grope her. Sebastian strained against his captors. “Hands off her, you oaf!” he shouted, but the princess didn’t need his help. The man made the mistake of standing too close to her, and she suddenly raised her knee to strike him directly between the legs. He staggered away as one of the other men raised a hand to strike her. The thought of his princess being struck like some common scullery maid gave Sebastian the strength to break away from his captors and clout the knave with his bound hands.

The others came after him, and he fought wildly, striking out with his hands and feet. He heard the princess scream, “Sebastian!” and then his head exploded.

When he woke, he was in a tent, his back against the center pole, and his arms bound behind him, around the pole. His head throbbed and he could feel where every punch and kick had landed on his battered body. Worst of all, he was desperately thirsty.

“It’s about time,” a voice whispered nearby. “I was beginning to think you’d be out all night. Are you okay?” Only one person in all the land spoke like that, and his heart sang with joy that his princess was still with him.

“Okay?” he asked, not sure what that meant, but his throat was so dry that he barely made a sound.

“Oh, you poor thing, you must be really thirsty. Here.” A bowl was placed against his lips, and he drank greedily, emptying the bowl.

“What happened?” he asked once he felt able to speak.

“Well, you were arrested as a spy. Apparently they don’t think a girl could do anything like that—never mind the fact that public enemy number one is a woman—so they’re just making me work as a servant in the camp.” He bristled at the thought of her being enslaved, but she put a calming hand on his shoulder. “Easy there, tiger. You’re not gonna break yourself out that way, and I don’t need to you defend my honor. I’ve got things under control. Besides, this may be the safest place for me. If no one here thinks I’m the princess, no spy can rat me out, and I don’t think any of the witch’s people are going to get past the guards into the camp.”

Her hand left his shoulder, then a faint glow appeared in the tent as she lit her strange torch. “Now, let me take a look at you. I should probably check you for concussion, but there’s not much I could do about it here other than make you rest, and those ropes are doing a good job of that. You do have a nasty cut on your head, though.” She dabbed at his forehead with something cool and wet that stung when it touched the cut. He braced himself so he wouldn’t flinch at the pain.

While she worked, she talked. “I still have my knife, as they didn’t think to search me for weapons, and I bet I could get through these ropes, eventually. The problem is, if I get you loose, where would we go? You’d get re-captured right away, and they might just kill you on the spot instead of waiting for a trial and formal execution. We need to think of something else.”

“If only I had some way to prove who I am.”

She smoothed a bandage onto his head. “The photo I.D. is a marvelous invention. It would make things so much easier. But is there something only you and your brother would know?”

“Like what?”

“Was there something you called your brother when you were little and couldn’t say his real name? Or a favorite toy? You said he played with you. Was there some game you played? Did something happen while you were still at home that he might remember?”

“Give me a moment to think.” He’d spent most of the past ten years trying not to think about home. It didn’t help matters that she began washing his face with a damp cloth. Her touch was rather distracting.

“At least now we know why you haven’t heard from your family in all that time,” she said. “They think you’re dead. I bet that’s what Lord Argus told them.”

“Surely they’d have expected him to send the body home for a proper burial if I’d died under his care.”

“Good point. Still, I bet there was something like that going on.”

“Or maybe they don’t think I’m literally dead, but they’ve disowned me, so I’d be dead to them.”

She swatted him lightly on the shoulder, narrowly missing a bruise. “Don’t talk like that! And, anyway, would the guards assume you couldn’t possibly be who you said you were because you’d been disowned? That doesn’t make sense. No, this is probably your former master’s doing. He may even have told your brother you were dead after you rescued me to keep you from being able to go home for safety.”

What she didn’t say—and what he hoped she wouldn’t say—was that this wouldn’t explain why they’d had no contact with him over the years, why they’d never answered any letter he’d written.

He deliberately shifted his thoughts back to his early childhood, then blurted, “Fireblade!”

“What?”

“It was Geoffrey’s toy sword, something an armsman made for him. When he got a real sword of his own, he gave Fireblade to me, with much ceremony.” Even in his current dire circumstances, he smiled at the memory. “To me, it was as good as being knighted. I’m sure he’d remember that.”

“Okay, Fireblade. Got it. Now I’d better get out of here and back to work before anyone notices I’m missing.” She rested her palm against his cheek and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. I won’t let them do anything to you, I promise.” Her face was very close to his, and for a moment he both hoped and feared she’d kiss him. He’d said his farewells and closed that part of his heart. If she kissed him, he’d have to go through the pain of losing her as anything but the princess he was sworn to serve all over again.

She kissed his forehead, the way she might recognize any loyal servant, and the fact that she seemed to sense his inner struggle made him love her all the more.

Then she was gone, moving toward the tent flap. Before she disappeared into the night, she whispered, “Don’t struggle against those ropes, or your wrists are going to look like raw hamburger, and I’m running out of disinfectant.”

He wasn’t sure what hamburger was, but he thought he understood what she meant. She had enough to manage without having to worry about tending his wounds, so he forced himself to relax, as much as he could do so while knowing he faced a death sentence for merely doing his duty.

Continued in Chapter Fifteen. Or you can read the whole thing at once in the e-book.

Here’s the next chapter of the ongoing serial novel. You can find chapter one here and the previous installment here.

Chapter Thirteen

      Dawn could hardly wait to rehearse with the troupe. They were far better than the group that had kidnapped her, and it didn’t take her long to learn their songs. Spink joined in, as well. The only downside was Rhian, who seemed determined not to like her. Her glare from across the boat grew even fiercer when Huw pulled Dawn aside after the rehearsal to suggest that she prepare a few solo numbers.

When life on the boat turned to chores, Dawn got laundry duty, and Rhian’s smirk as she dumped a pile of clothes and linens at Dawn’s feet told her this wasn’t a plum assignment. The aunts had never bought an automatic washer and dryer, so Dawn knew how to do laundry by hand. She was sorting through the pile of clothes to put together the next load when a voice roused her from her thoughts. It was a rich baritone that wouldn’t have been out of place on a Broadway stage. She looked up to see a young man pouring a bucket of river water into the laundry tub. He even looked the part of a leading man, with dark hair and broad shoulders. Some of the boys in the school choir were good, but she’d never sung with anyone like this. “You have a really nice voice,” she said.

“You’re one to talk, Miss Dawn,” he replied with a grin. “And it’s flattering that one who sings like you do might think so.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Will.”

“Hello, Will. I know some songs from my home that I think you could sing very well—some duets—if you’d like me to teach you, and if you’d like to sing with me. Are you interested?”

“Quite!”

The next time Will brought a bucket to the laundry tub, she started teaching him by singing a song for him. She was sure this would be easier if she had a mobile phone so she could just play the songs for him. But she didn’t, not even back home. She didn’t have any of the electronics other kids used to listen to music. Her entire music collection consisted of the box of records and the old turntable that had been in the house when she and the aunts moved in. She’d always felt it was a stroke of fate or luck that the previous residents had apparently been musical theater fans. Would she have discovered her talents and her life’s ambition if they’d had a fondness for instrumental jazz, instead?

Will proved to be a quick study, and by the time Dawn was through with the laundry, she’d already taught him the main verses of four songs. They spent the time after chores were done practicing together. “What’s this, then?” Rhian asked as she passed them on the deck. “I thought you sang with the bird.”

“Excellent work, young Will,” Huw remarked from his seat nearby. That shut Rhian up immediately, and she sauntered away with one last glare tossed over her shoulder.

“Do you think it will help us be invited to perform at the coronation?” Dawn asked Huw.

“Could be, could be. What makes you so eager to sing at the coronation?”

Dawn felt her face growing warmer. She hated to lie, but she was afraid to tell Huw the truth about looking for Lucy and being directed by Spink to go to the castle. “Well, it’s a coronation. It’s a historic occasion,” she said.

“Oh, that it is,” he muttered.

“You don’t sound very happy about it.”

He raised a bushy eyebrow at her. “It’s not as though we have much choice in the matter. It’s a command performance by her wicked ladyship.” He grinned. “But the coin should be good, as everyone’s too scared to stay away from her big moment.” He rubbed his first two fingers against his thumb. “The audiences should be enormous—and looking to have their hearts lifted.”

“Who’s her wicked ladyship?” Dawn asked.

“What? You don’t know?”

“We’re not from around here.”

“Her ladyship is the witch Melantha,” Huw said. “She’s been scheming after that throne for years, and now she’s finally got it, what with the king and queen being out of the way and now the princess’s curse deadline nearing. She’s planning to crown herself, and of course it must be a coronation grander than the king himself had.”

“Oh,” Dawn breathed as she tried to figure out where this fit into the rest of the story. Had the witch been the one to kidnap Lucy? And were her aunts for or against the witch? Rhian had said something about the enchantresses not opposing the witch. Dawn couldn’t hold back a shudder as she realized that running from her aunts must have been the right instinct.

All this time, Spink had been sitting on a nearby railing, singing to himself and occasionally picking up words from their conversation. Suddenly, he burst out, “Melantha! I know that name! I’ve heard it before!”

“Yes, of course you have, little friend,” Huw said gently. “She rules the kingdom, for now. People talk of her all the time.”

“Is she at the castle?”

“She is now.”

“In a tall, tall tower?”

“Honestly, I have no idea.”

“Melantha in the tall, tall tower of the castle,” the bird sang cheerfully, as though it was an old, familiar song he had just remembered from childhood.

“I don’t suggest you add that song to your act,” Huw remarked with a twitch of his mustache. “I don’t think it would be very popular.”

***

      “I–I   don’t have any money,” Lucy squeaked to the troll looming over her.

“Then you will pay the toll with your flesh,” the troll replied. A green, damp, mossy-looking thing came out of its mouth and ran across its lips, and Lucy sincerely hoped it meant eating and not other ways it might mean “flesh.”

“I wouldn’t make much of a meal,” she replied, trying to bring her voice down an octave. “I wouldn’t even make a good appetizer. But there’s a really big guy coming not far behind me. You wouldn’t want to ruin your appetite with me. And, as a bonus, he looks like he might put up a fight, which could be good for some fun.”

“How big?” the troll asked, its eyes going glazed as its pitiful little brain tried to process the thought.

“Lots bigger than me. But he’ll be here any second now, so if you don’t let me go, he might be able to sneak by while you’re distracted with me.”

On cue, Sebastian stepped out of his hiding place and approached the bridge. The troll looked from Lucy to Sebastian, then took a step forward. That left just enough room for Lucy to slip past while the troll’s attention was focused on Sebastian. She paused to give Sebastian a quick thumbs up from behind the troll’s back before she headed across the bridge.

The bridge itself was almost scarier than the troll. It swayed with every step she took, and she could see water rushing over the rocks below from between the bridge’s boards. The advice not to look down did no good here. If she didn’t look down, she might miss a board and step right into a gap.

Behind her, she heard the troll boom, “I don’t take tolls.”

“I wasn’t planning to pay one,” Sebastian replied, sounding perfectly calm. The bridge shook violently, and Lucy had to get both hands around the rope handrail to keep from being tossed off. While she held on to the wildly swaying bridge, she turned to see what had happened. Sebastian was moving steadily toward the bridge, his sword held in front of him, and the troll had backed onto the bridge.

The troll stood, blocking the way, and Sebastian hit it in the middle with the hilt of his sword, then hit it on the head when it doubled over in response. The troll reached out and knocked Sebastian’s feet from under him. Lucy fought not to scream out loud when Sebastian came dangerously close to the edge of the gorge. She knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to remind the troll of her presence. Although it was difficult to tear her attention away from the fight, she forced herself to take advantage of the troll’s distraction and resume making her way across the bridge.

The bridge kept swaying and bucking, and she knew that meant the fight was still going on and had moved onto the bridge itself. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she muttered with each step she took, and she was definitely praying, not swearing. If she just made it across this bridge and if Sebastian made it past the troll, she promised not to whine about going to Sunday school. That was, if she ever got home so she could go to Sunday school.

At a particularly wild shake of the bridge, she turned around while clinging desperately to the rope and saw that Sebastian had made it around the troll and was on the bridge, between the troll and Lucy. The troll was still coming after him, but it was no longer in Sebastian’s way. Sebastian kicked at the troll, sending it reeling backward, which made the bridge shake again. It didn’t help matters when Sebastian started running across while the troll recovered. “Your highness, run! Hurry!” he called while he ran, the troll coming after him with a ferocious snarl.

Lucy had been picking her way carefully across, but then she noticed that Sebastian was putting away his sword and getting out his knife, and she suspected she knew what he had planned. Her ongoing prayer turned into a whimper as she forced herself to run. She wanted to kiss the ground when she reached the other side, but Sebastian shouted, “Start cutting!”

She got out her Swiss Army knife and began sawing away at one of the ropes, attacking a frayed spot. The dogs noticed what she was doing and gnawed on another rope. Sebastian was still a few feet away when she cut all the way through one rope, and he leapt for safety before immediately turning to help cut the other ropes. The ease with which they cut through the bridge’s supporting ropes made Lucy even more queasy about having just crossed that bridge.

The troll was almost upon them when the last rope broke, sending the bridge and the troll crashing down to bounce off the gorge wall into the river. Once the troll hit the river, it was hard to spot it among all the mossy rocks. Lucy wondered if any of those rocks were ex-trolls who’d suffered a similar fate. It was kind of a shame about the bridge, since she was sure losing it would be a major inconvenience to the people in the area, but if it went down that easily, it was probably for the best. Now maybe they could get a decent bridge without a troll.

“It worked,” she said, gasping for air as she leaned against Sebastian, still too shaky to be elated. “It really worked.” They’d just acted out a fairy tale. That could mean her story would have a happy ending, too. Or would it, given that she didn’t actually belong in that story?

“Excellent plan, your highness,” Sebastian said with a grin and a clap on her back before he settled his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She couldn’t help but smile when she remembered that only the day before she’d had to order him to put his arm around her.

They stayed like that for a long time, catching their breath. Lucy would have been happy to stay like that for hours. With the troll gone and the bridge destroyed, she felt like they were safe, at least for a while, and she was really enjoying being that close to Sebastian. But they had a destination, and by the position of the sun she knew it was already well past noon. “We’d better get going,” she said. “Beating a troll doesn’t mean we get to take the rest of the day off.”

He chuckled, and leaning against him the way she was, she could feel his laughter rumbling in his chest. “Are you always this resilient?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been tested before. Not like this.”

“When I was sent to rescue the princess, I expected a great lady or a delicate beauty who would need careful handling.”

“And you got me, instead.”

“Yes, I was very fortunate.” A tickling feeling on her head told her he was playing with her hair. Oh, boy.

“You’re the princess this kingdom needs,” he continued, still twining her curls around his fingers. “You’re brave and resourceful, kind and good. People will rally around you. They’ll fight for you. And we will win back the kingdom.”

This would have been a good time to let him know she wasn’t really the princess. She didn’t think he’d dump her right there in the middle of nowhere. It even sounded like he liked her as herself and not just because he thought she was a princess.

On the other hand, how would he feel if he learned he’d given up his position, shed blood, and fought a troll for plain old Lucy Jordan?

Reluctantly, she pulled away from him and stood up before he had a chance to get to his feet and help her up. She pulled the straps of her backpack over her shoulders and said, “Well, which way?”

He shouldered his own pack and said, “Come on, it isn’t far now. Just over that next hill.” He pointed ahead, and the next hill didn’t quite fit her definition of “not far,” but she didn’t want him changing his mind about her being resilient, so she started walking.

Although she was exhausted and starving, her blisters had spawned blisters, her backpack seemed to gain five pounds every few minutes, and every single muscle in her body screamed in agony with every step, it was one of the best afternoons Lucy had ever spent. They must have fallen off the witch’s radar, since no one was actively chasing them, and that meant they could relax and just walk. Well, not relax entirely, as she was well aware that Sebastian and the dogs were keeping their eyes open, but at least they didn’t have to run.

And that meant they could talk. It was like spending an afternoon with Jeremy, except Sebastian occasionally took her hand or put his hand on her back, and he kept giving her those looks that made it clear that he was thinking about kissing her. He had finally dropped his guard with her, let himself forget about her being a princess. They were just two kids hanging out, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was trapped in a strange world where a wicked witch wanted her dead, it would have been fun.

Before she realized it, they’d reached the top of that hill Sebastian had pointed to. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice rough enough that she wondered if she had some vitamin C cough drops in her backpack. With all the running around and sleeping outdoors and bad food, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was getting sick. She couldn’t have her protector slowed down by a cold. “My home is in this valley.”

“Thank God,” she said, meaning it intensely.

“We will make sure it is safe,” Larkin said, and he and Leila trotted off.

Once they were gone, Sebastian said, “I imagine that things will change once you’re in a place more worthy of your status. I don’t know what will happen then. You may no longer need me to guard you.”

“I’m sure I’ll still need a guard. That witch probably hasn’t given up.”

“But I may no longer be that guard. There are men far more experienced than I am who would be given that duty.”

Only then did she realize that he was trying to say good-bye, now while they were still alone together and before the fuss that was likely to come with showing up at his brother’s place. She gave him a hopeful smile. “Don’t I as a princess have some say about who my bodyguard is?”

He looked strangely sad as he said, “While a princess has a great deal of power, there is also a great deal of her life that is beyond her control. In a sense, you belong to your kingdom and the needs of the kingdom must come before personal desires.”

“That sucks!”

He laughed, losing the sad look for a moment, but only a moment. Then he was back to looking like he’d lost his best friend. “I believe, from what I’ve learned of you, that you will carry your title and serve your kingdom well.” He lowered his eyes, breaking eye contact, and whispered, “Before you have to live as a princess, I wanted to say. . .” Words didn’t come to him, so instead he leaned over and kissed her.

She went still with shock at first. Then she kissed him back, putting her arms around his neck and standing on her tiptoes so he didn’t have to bend over so much. Once she did that, he put his arms around her and pulled her against him. She wasn’t sure how long they made out, but eventually they stopped kissing and just held each other in a tight hug.

Finally, he loosened his hold and stepped away from her. He knelt in front of her, took her hand, brought it to his lips, and whispered, “My princess.” By this time, she was practically sobbing, and his eyes were suspiciously bright. She wanted to grab him and hug him again, but she got the feeling that his courtly gesture had been his way of reminding himself who she was (well, who he thought she was) and what his duty was. They were back in princess-and-protector mode, and she knew she’d only make things worse for him—and probably herself, too—if she tried to cross that line again. He got back to his feet just as the dogs returned.

“The armies have gathered,” Larkin reported. “The Grantley banner is at the head, so they are a friendly army. It should be safe.”

“The Loyalists must mean to challenge the witch before she can crown herself,” Sebastian said.

“It looks like you brought me to the right place,” Lucy said, forcing her voice to sound bright so she wouldn’t start crying again as soon as she spoke. “Now they’ll have a princess to offer as an alternative.” It took her a second to remember that she was only a pretend princess. She’d really let the role go to her head. Or maybe her brain was addled by all those kisses.

“We will leave you now, Highness, Lord,” Larkin said, bowing his head. “Our mission is complete.”

“Oh, can’t you come with us?” Lucy said, trying not to whine.

“We are not comfortable in large gatherings of men,” Leila said. “If there is a battle, we may join, but we do not go into human camps.”

Lucy wondered if it would be poor etiquette with talking animals to pet them. She settled for returning their bows and thanking them for their help, all while trying not to cry.

When they’d gone, Sebastian held his arm out to her and said, “Your highness?” She took his arm and let him escort her down the hill. He was so reserved with her that if her lips weren’t still tingling, she’d have wondered if she’d imagined the way he’d kissed her.

The sun was setting, and the light of campfires and torches ahead made the camp look warm and welcoming. Lucy was already looking forward to sitting in something that resembled a chair and sleeping on something that resembled a bed, maybe after eating a meal that wasn’t bread and cheese.

Before they reached the camp, though, a voice called out, “Halt!”

Several guards appeared, seemingly out of thin air, and surrounded them. “What is your business in this camp?” their leader asked.

“I need to see the Duke of Grantley,” Sebastian said.

“And who might you be?”

“I’m his brother, Sebastian.”

“Seize them!” the guard called out. As guards grabbed them, disarmed Sebastian, and bound their wrists with rough ropes, the lead guard came very close to Sebastian, practically spitting in his face, as he sneered, “Nice try, spy. But Lord Sebastian is dead.”

Continued in Chapter Fourteen.

It looks like there’s interest in a full book. I’ve ordered a cover and I’m working on proofreading the whole thing. I hope to have it available by the end of next week. I won’t bother with doing a pre-order phase. I’ll just have it go live as soon as it gets through the system. In the meantime, here’s chapter 12. If you missed the beginning, you can find it here. The previous chapter is here.

Chapter Twelve

            “Wait a second,” Lucy sputtered at Sebastian. “You’re not sure your home is safe?”

“I haven’t been there since I was a child. I was fostered out for training when I was seven, soon after my father died, and I haven’t seen or heard from my family since then. I’ve heard of my brother, especially lately. He was on the royal council under the king and queen. I even saw him once from a distance at court, but I haven’t spoken to him. His service to your parents makes me think you’ll be safe with him, but I don’t know how welcome I will be.” His last words had a snap of finality to them that made Lucy reluctant to ask further questions, even though she was dying of curiosity. Obviously, this was a sore point with him.

“Okay, we’ll go to your home,” she said softly. She squeezed his hand and added, “And if your brother is mean to you, he’ll have to answer to me.”

That earned her a half-hearted smile. “You are very good to me, your highness.”

“Hello! You’re the one saving my life left and right. You know, I think we make a pretty good team. We’re practically a TV show: He’s a brave squire, she’s a spunky princess. Together they fight crime!” He gave her a big “huh?” look, and she supposed he had no idea what she was talking about. “Never mind,” she said with a sigh. “There are just too many references there to explain. We’d be here all day, and we need to get a move on.”

She suppressed a whimper at the thought of walking again, but didn’t feel so bad when Sebastian groaned as he stood and shouldered his pack. After they emerged from their shelter, he went over to a thick tree trunk on the top of a nearby hill. “We need to head west, which would be, hmmm,” he studied the trunk, then turned to his left and pointed, “that way.”

As they walked in that direction, Lucy couldn’t resist throwing in a bit of knowledge she’d picked up from Jeremy’s Boy Scout handbooks. “Yeah, because the moss grows on the north side.”

He snapped his head around to look at her, a mixture of surprise and awe on his face. “You know that?”

“I’ve picked up a few things here and there. Remember, I didn’t grow up as a princess.”

“You are full of surprises,” he said, a goofy grin threatening to take over his face. He fought it back with what looked like a force of will. “You are a skilled healer, you can defend yourself with strange weapons, and you know something of woodcraft. What other skills have you learned during your exile?”

“Oh, I can do all sorts of useful and non-useful things.” She’d been fending for herself and even sometimes looking after her mom for most of her life, ever since her dad died. “I can cook—nothing gourmet, but I haven’t poisoned anyone yet. I make a killer ice cream sundae. I can sew. I even make most of my own clothes. I’m learning about historical and theatrical costuming, though I’m not sure how useful that is. I play the clarinet in the marching band. That’s also not very useful. Oh, and I’ve learned to fix a few things around the house.”

“Perhaps all princesses should grow up away from the castle. You’re better equipped to be queen than most rulers are.”

“I’m really not that unusual where I come from. Well, not everyone designs and makes their own clothes, and the historical and theatrical costuming obsession isn’t typical, but a lot of people where I grew up can do the kinds of things I do—or more. My friend Jeremy knows all sorts of wilderness survival stuff, and he can even replace buttons on his shirts, too.”

“Then we should make a policy of sending our future rulers to your world,” he said.

“I guess that means I’d have to send my kids away, then.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way. I’m sorry, your highness.” His voice was somber, with a contrite tone.

She looked up to tell him it was okay, since they were only joking, and found herself looking into his eyes. Again, she had that feeling of her breath catching in her throat. They both looked away at the same time. She felt she should say something, but what?

She liked him, she realized. Liked liked him. Before, she’d certainly known he was good-looking, brave, and had an amazing body, but she hadn’t considered him as a potential romance candidate. He was like a TV star, someone she could admire from afar without ever thinking that she might actually go out with him. But now that she was getting to know him—and adversity was great for figuring out the kind of person someone was—she thought he was someone she’d like to know better, no matter how well she already knew him. This was the way she felt about Jeremy, that no matter how much time she spent with him, no matter how close they got, it wasn’t enough.

The reminder of Jeremy jolted her. He’d been there her whole life. She’d never imagined being with anyone but him. But he’d never looked at her the way Sebastian did. She glanced up at Sebastian and found him looking at her again, then they both hurried to look away. No, she wasn’t imagining it. He looked at her like he’d started noticing her as a girl, not just as a princess he was supposed to protect.

But what should she do about it? It wasn’t like they had much of a future together, since she was from a different world she wanted to go back to. He might look at her in a way that sent chills down her spine, but he hadn’t made any more moves than Jeremy had.

Her natural response to any emotional turmoil was to jabber, so she made a stab at starting a conversation. “Is fostering like sending you off to school?” The way he’d described it, it didn’t sound like a foster home in Lucy’s world. Then again, if his family didn’t have any contact with him, maybe he’d been taken out of a bad home and had just been too young to realize it.

“It is a common practice among the nobility,” he said. “A father or an older brother isn’t considered the best person to train a boy to be a knight. The best training requires an impartial teacher who is able to see a boy’s faults clearly and correct them. I don’t think my brother had the time to teach me, as he inherited the title and the lands and had an estate to run. He wouldn’t have been able to bring up a younger brother and train me properly. Lord Argus had a reputation for the strictest and best training. The teaching is much like a school, with book instruction, but also training in running a noble house, combat, horsemanship, and everything else that goes into being a knight.”

“But I guess you usually don’t lose all contact with your family while you’re in training, huh?” Lucy asked. Then something he said caught up with her. “Wait, you said a title?”

“Yes, my brother is Duke of Grantley.”

“So that would make you Lord Sebastian.”

“I suppose it does. But no one ever uses my title. Lord Argus forbade it. All the squires were supposed to be equal.”

“But you’re not working for Lord Argus anymore, my lord.” She gave him a mock curtsy, and he grinned in response.

She was about to ask him more about his family, but he changed the subject. “I wonder if Lord Argus has been working with the witch all along. I can’t believe I’ve been in the service of a traitor.”

“That doesn’t reflect on you, since you didn’t know.”

“Did Fulk know, though? I can’t imagine he would willingly work for a traitor.”

“Maybe he was a double agent, spying for the good guys while pretending to be the loyal sergeant.”

He shot her a suspicious look. “You know a great deal about subterfuge and espionage, your highness.”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I guess. I’ve seen a lot of spy movies because my friend Jeremy wants to be James Bond when he grows up.” His expression went from suspicious to confused. “I’m not even going to try to explain movies. You do have plays, though, right? Where people act out stories?”

“Yes, we do have those. I even got to see one once.”

Just one, once? Between that, his out-of-touch family, and all those scars, she got the feeling he’d lived the kind of life that people wrote books about and then went on talk shows to discuss their inspiring triumphs over tragedy. “Well, these are a kind of play, and spy stories are very popular for these plays. I’m sure in the real world spying is mostly boring stuff, but in fiction it’s very glamorous and exciting, with secret agents who travel all over the world and use high-tech devices to stop the bad guys. And, yeah, there’s always one of the bad guys who turns out to be working for the good guys, and usually a good guy who turns out to be working for the bad guys.”

“You go to these plays with your friend?”

If she wasn’t mistaken, he was showing distinct signs of jealousy. Did he have anything to worry about? She wasn’t sure, but she did know that instead of enjoying the idea of boys competing for her, she didn’t want him to think she was involved with someone else. “Jeremy’s my neighbor. We grew up together. He’s practically a brother to me.” How sadly true that was.

There was a definite decrease of tension in his face and shoulders. “It is good that you had someone to act as brother for you. I often wondered what it might have been like to grow up with a brother. I remember Geoffrey playing with me when I was very young.”

Ah, another tantalizing tidbit. “How much older is he?”

“I’m not sure. More than ten years, as he’d reached his majority when he inherited the title.”

“Then that’s a pretty good brother if he still took the time to play with you.”

He changed the subject again. “If Fulk isn’t the traitor, then I wonder who did alert the witch to our rendezvous location. Surely not that many people knew where we planned to take you.”

“It could have been anyone. Heck, since a lot of the animals around here talk, it could even have been an innocent-looking little songbird sitting in the window when people were making plans. We could be surrounded by spies here in the forest.”

They both came to a halt and turned to look at each other as the sickening realization hit. Lucy had said it as a joke, but it was a real possibility. Just then, there was a rustle in the underbrush nearby. Sebastian took Lucy’s hand, and together they ran. Lucy looked back over her shoulder and saw a puzzled-looking rabbit watching them. She couldn’t help but giggle, and when Sebastian turned around, he laughed, too.

“We’re now officially paranoid,” she said as she leaned against him, still shaking with laughter.

“I believe that is quite understandable in our situation,” he replied with a grin.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone the story of Sir Sebastian and the fluffy little bunny.”

“For all we know, the fluffy little bunny was an enemy spy who would have reported our location.”

“You know, I’m not sure I want to live in a world where fluffy little bunnies can be evil.” But there was no way to tell which forest creatures were on which side. They really could be surrounded by enemy spies.

“Humans would have to listen to animals for animals to be of much use as spies,” Leila muttered.

That brought up a whole new set of questions for Lucy, who’d wondered how talking animals fit into society, but she had a feeling that would be even touchier than asking Sebastian about his family. “We listen to you, Leila,” she said, resisting the urge to scratch the dog behind the ears. “Anyone who doesn’t is just stupid.”

She realized after they resumed walking that Sebastian hadn’t let go of her hand. Her heart pounded as she moved her hand in his so that their fingers laced. It was probably the closest she’d ever come to a bold, flirtatious move, and she wasn’t sure how he’d react. When he settled his hand into the new grasp and squeezed, she went momentarily dizzy.

It occurred to her as they walked that as the son and brother of a duke, he should be eligible husband material for a princess. But she wasn’t a princess, she reminded herself. She was a common girl from another world who couldn’t possibly snag the son of a duke. There was probably some daughter of a duke or earl who’d been set aside for him.

And it was all pointless, since she hoped to go return home. Back there, she had Jeremy, who had always been her best friend and who was bound to become something more, eventually. She tried to conjure up a picture of Jeremy in her head every time she looked over to see Sebastian. Especially when she saw Sebastian looking at her.

Larkin, who’d been scouting ahead, ran back to them, panting. “We are nearing the river,” he said.

“That means we’re getting closer,” Sebastian replied, then turned to Lucy. “Your highness, the way will become rougher and more difficult from here. My family’s estate is in the hills.” Returning his attention to Larkin, he asked, “Are we near enough to a crossing—one that will be safe?”

“There is a bridge ahead. While it does not appear that the witch’s men are watching the bridges here, I believe it may be a troll bridge.”

“Most of them are,” Sebastian said with a worried frown. “And it would be far too dangerous to try to ford the river. We’ll have to risk it.”

Lucy was about to ask just how expensive the toll could be when it occurred to her that Larkin had said troll bridge, not toll bridge. “Wait a second, you mean a troll under the bridge, like in the fairy tales?” Of course, neither of them knew what she meant because they weren’t fairy tales to them. They were current events. “Never mind. Just something I read.”

“I will look for the troll,” Larkin said, then disappeared into the trees.

The way had become rougher and rockier. Lucy felt like she was climbing instead of walking flat, and there were now more pine and fir trees than the hardwoods of the lower forest. Soon she could hear the distant rumble of water and realized what Sebastian meant about the river being too dangerous to wade across. It sounded like there was at least one waterfall.

Larkin came trotting back. “Troll,” he said.

Sebastian rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. “How big?” he asked.

“Big enough.”

Lucy could tell that Sebastian was weighing his options, from the way he frowned and kept glancing at her. Finally, she asked, “Okay, so what’s the deal here?”

“The trolls will sometimes allow people to pass with proper payment of a toll, but I know I don’t have the coin for that, and I have nothing of value that it would be safe to give up. Without payment, they take their toll in flesh.”

“You mean they eat people?”

“They’ll eat anything. I might be able to fight it if it came after me, but if it tried to get you, there wouldn’t be much I could do to stop it. I could hit it with my sword for hours, and it wouldn’t bother turning around until it finished with you.”

This really did sound like “The Three Billy Goats Gruff,” and that gave Lucy an idea. “Are these trolls all that bright?”

“They’re incredibly stupid,” Larkin said.

“Then we could try to trick it. There’s a tale in my world about tricking a troll into always thinking something bigger and more delicious is coming along. That way the smaller and weaker ones get by safely, and only the last fights the troll and wins.”

“It could work,” Leila said, tilting her head to one side. “They are very stupid.”

“Very well, then. We will try the princess’s plan,” Sebastian said with a nod.

They got closer to the river and hid behind some trees. The river wasn’t visible from there, mostly because it ran through a deep gorge. Lucy could hear the rumble of rushing water, but all she could see was a sheer cliff on the other side. While wading across was likely to be impossible, the bridge didn’t look much safer, even without a troll. It was a wooden suspension bridge, just a few boards strung together by fraying rope. There was only the slightest breath of a breeze, but the bridge still swayed in it. Lucy wasn’t fond of bridges at the best of times. She squeezed her eyes shut on the highway bridge across the Sabine River. This looked like the kind of thing she had nightmares about. She had to close her eyes or go for snacks during movie scenes about crossing bridges like this one.

Now she had to cross it herself, after getting past a troll? Not likely. She scanned the trees on the opposite bank, looking for one tall and strong enough that they might be able to toss a rope to so they could swing across, like in that scene in Star Wars. That had to be safer than the bridge, with or without a troll.

Not that there’d been any sign of a troll. There was just a large, mossy rock sitting next to the bridge.

“Your highness, what is your plan?” Sebastian asked.

Clutching her skirt so her hands wouldn’t shake, she said, “Well, first the smallest has to go. I guess that would be the dogs. When the troll tries to stop you, you tell it that you’re not worth eating, but someone larger is coming along soon. Then I’ll go and do the same. Then Sebastian, you come along and fight it. I’d guess knocking it off the bridge would be the best bet, but I’ll leave the fighting strategy up to you. But remember, I’ve never seen a troll before, so I have no idea if this will really work.”

“It does sound like something a troll might fall for,” Larkin growled.

“Then let’s do it,” Sebastian said.

The dogs approached the bridge, and as soon as they’d taken about three stops onto the boards, the rock unfolded into a roughly human-shaped creature a head taller than Sebastian and twice as broad. “You must pay my toll,” it boomed.

Leila bowed in a submissive posture and said, “We are but animals and have no money.”

“Then your toll will be your flesh.”

“We are hardly worth the effort, sir troll. But coming behind us is a person with far sweeter flesh.”

“A human?” Lucy was glad she couldn’t see the troll’s face from her hiding place because it sounded like the troll had just licked its lips. Ick.

“Yes, a human, coming very soon. You might miss her if you’re too busy with us.”

The troll turned back to the bridgehead, and the dogs scampered safely to the other side. That meant it was Lucy’s turn. Taking a deep, gulping breath, she eased her way out of the hiding place and approached the bridge. She tried skipping a few steps, like she was a carefree girl out for a stroll, but her legs were shaking so badly she nearly tripped and fell, so she gave that up and just walked.

“You must pay my toll to cross,” the troll boomed at her.

Suddenly, Lucy couldn’t help thinking that risking her life on the basis of something that happened in a fairy tale may not have been the best idea she ever had.

Continued in chapter 13.