Ugly Girl Page 25

  “Unicorn-deer?” the older man inquired. Of all the men, he looked the most distinguished. His shoulder-length black hair made room for a few streaks of gray, which only made him more striking in that well-bred nobility kind of way. I don’t know how guys could get older and go gray and look just as handsome as the young guys, but he rocked the George Clooney bracket. He pressed his hand to his chest. “I’m Henri, your grace. I’m Duke of Province 2. At your service, however you’ll have me.” He said “Henri” like a true Frenchmen, letting me know a casual “Henry” wasn’t within his vocabulary. Everything he did looked grand and purposeful. Just the sound of his regal-speak made me sit up straighter. He watched me with calculating interest, though I couldn’t get a good read on him. His green eyes would catch mine, and then his gaze would flit to Lane. The way he regarded Lane was civil and proper, but there was something deeper buried there. Lane’s eyes had the air of forced calm, while Henri looked like he wanted to say something to her, but he never did.

  “Um, thanks. Yeah, the deer with the unicorn horn sticking out of their foreheads.”

  Bastien looked as if my incompetence pained him. “It’s called a cerf.”

  “Oh, whatever. The cerf fawns are dying, so quit poisoning the river, whoever’s doing it. Hurting animals for no reason? It’s like, the quickest way to get on the universe’s kick-me-in-the-teeth list.”

  Bayard dipped his head toward me, playing the role of the humble servant so Lane didn’t off-with-his-head him. “That was my men. I’ll have them stop immediately. Give me a day, and the water will be back to normal.”

  I nodded to him, taking in his stiff demeanor. Though he really did seem like he was willing to play ball, I could sense a grudge in him, some sort of deep-rooted frustration. “Thank you.”

  Lot was entranced, playing chicken with his daring as he watched my bear with eyes that were filled with trepidation. “I’ve only ever fought with bears. I’ve never seen them so tame with a person before. Do you think he’d let me touch him?”

  “I dunno. If he bites your hand off, then probably not. Let’s try and see.” I grinned at Lot’s horrified expression. “Just kidding. Abraham Lincoln’s cool. Here.” I reached out slowly with my free hand and picked up Lot’s sturdy wrist. He was magazine level model of handsome, so I knew my cheeks were pink when I made contact. I kept my eyes from his features so I didn’t turn into a mouse just yet. I felt his pulse quicken as I moved his hand to the scruff of Abraham Lincoln’s neck. My fingers tangled through Lot’s as I showed him how to pet my puppy without incurring unnecessary wrath. “Be real gentle,” I warned when I felt Abraham Lincoln stiffen. My nerves didn’t translate to animals. In fact, when I was most uncomfortable around people, I was most talkative with them. “It’s okay, baby. Lot won’t hurt you. He just thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Can’t fault him for that.” I kissed his muzzle while Lot stroked his back, marveling at the beast who was not such a beast after all. My bear rested his head over my breasts and sighed like a baby. I really was becoming his mother. I’d been missing Wilbur and Penelope, who now had no one to tell them stories about dashing pirates. Abraham Lincoln was a good suture to that painful cut.

  Lot drew closer, and I could feel his breath on my cheek. I kept my eyes downward, unable to look up at him if my life depended on it. “This is incredible. Is he coming with us on the journey?”

  Bastien cleared his throat, calling the meeting back into focus with Hamish on his shoulder, standing at attention. “We’ll need to find Roland first. He represents Province 4, so we move forward with him.”

  Bayard scratched a patch of thick chestnut hair above his elbow. “Bastien, we loved Roland as much as you did, but he’s gone. The Cheval Mallet took him right after it took Duchess Avril.”

  Lane’s mouth tightened at mention of her sister being cooped up in the Forgotten Forest. My spirits lifted at the fact that I had a cousin to find, and now an aunt. My family was growing larger, and I couldn’t wait to get to them.

  Bastien postured as he stood next to the stump I was still seated on. “Rosie can talk to animals. Plus, she’s the Compass. I think between those two things, she can find Roland for us.”

  Lane’s voice was quiet, but still drew the attention of everyone there. “We need the Cheval Mallet because before I left, I went to Master Kerdik to give him back my emerald.” She ignored the gasps and pressed on with her story. “Master Kerdik didn’t receive many apart from the nine Daughters of Avalon back then, and Reyn tells me he hasn’t been seen much in the last couple decades. I told Master Kerdik to take back all the stones, that they were causing more harm than the good he meant for them to do. He wouldn’t do it. He said we had to surrender the stones willingly. So I did.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “So did Gliten and Heloise.” Then to me she explained, “My sisters who ruled Provinces Three and Four.”

  Everyone was in an uproar at this. The quiet calm I’d tried to instill in the group was gone. The men were on their feet, shouting above each other to make sure Lane knew just how super pissed they all were. Even Reyn and Bastien were shocked, though they didn’t yell at her.

  It took a while for Lane to rein them all in, but finally she was permitted the space to continue. “Master Kerdik said he’d keep our stones safe from Morgan le Fae. He’d make sure they stayed hidden until it was time. I didn’t know what he meant by that, but he said I’d know when and how to find them if I ever needed them back. Then he summoned the Cheval Mallet, put them in a pouch and tied them to his flank. I never saw them again.” She turned to me, and as one, the others craned their necks in my direction. “Now that Rosie and I have come back, I’m guessing this is the time he was talking about.”

  I raised my hand. “Can anyone give me a rundown of who still has their jewels, whose gems were stolen by Morgan, and which ones were sent off on the Cheval Mallet?”

  Duke Lot inclined his head to me humbly. “Of course, your majesty. Morgan le Fae has her own jewel from Master Kerdik, plus she’s stolen or cajoled the jewels from Provinces 2, 6, 7 and it’s rumored she also has the jewel from Province 8, as well. So that means Morgan has five jewels in total. She’s acquired most of those provinces as her own, and they live with the bounty those jewels provide. Since Duke Henri surrendered his gem willingly, he was able to keep Province 2 as his own. Since Provinces 2 and 3 border Province 1, they share in a portion of the bounty, though they are not without problems.”

  I frowned. “So then that leaves the jewels from Provinces 3, 4, 5 and 9 that are lost.”

  Lot spoke up. “Actually, I rule Province 5 in my late mother’s stead, and we still stand with our jewel safely hidden.” He said it without unfounded pride or aggression he wished to lord over the others. He was simply stating the facts, and even had the grace to lower his chin as he did so. Dude was classy, that’s for sure.

  I tried to keep track of it all. “Okay, then that leaves three lost jewels, is that right?”

  Lane’s chin rose. “Not quite so lost, actually. My Rosie is how we’ll find the three missing stones, and help rebuild Avalon.”

  I wanted to hide from the unrealistic expectation that I knew anything about finding horses or jewels or any of it, so I buried my face in Abraham Lincoln’s fur. At least when I was “Remedial Rosie” no one looked at me like I was the answer to worldwide devastation. They assumed I was too stupid to answer even the most basic of questions, so lofty things like world peace weren’t even presented to me.

  “Mama, it’s okay. I love you,” my bear cooed. Abraham Lincoln’s belief that love would conquer all was a sweet reminder that maybe it could, if I simply learned to let it. Lane loved me, thus we survived being homeless in a new world. I don’t know when I stopped putting so much faith in the simple things, but I vowed to be a little more like Abraham Lincoln, and let love drive a few more of my doubts away.

  31

  Bare Legs and Blood Racing

  Bayard began running his mo
uth that I knew couldn’t stay tamed for more than a few minutes, but I didn’t pay attention. Birds started flying toward me, calling my name with a warning that chilled my bones. “Princess! The Army! The Queen’s Army is coming! They’re looking for Reyn! They’ve been ordered to kill him if he won’t come in. Run!”

  I blurted out the message the birds gave me, interrupting Bayard and ignoring his indignation at my rudeness. “Go! You all have to run. Who can hide Reyn?”

  “I won’t run. They can ask me whatever they like.” Reyn stood tall, but he looked more stubborn than capable of putting up a good fight against an army’s brutal interrogation tactics.

  I shook my head. “Look, the birds aren’t giving me the impression that the soldiers will take playing dumb for an answer. Your name was on that roster,” I reminded him.

  Bastien hung his head. “Whose province is closest? Who can hide him?”

  “I won’t hide! I’m here with you all as an equal. Would any of you hide? I represent Province 2 with Duke Henri in this tribunal, and I won’t cower like a dog!”

  Duke Henri jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “My castle is closest. Everyone can camp with me until the army passes by. We’ll leave to hunt for the Cheval Mallet as soon as we’re packed for the journey.”

  “How far behind us are they?” Bastien asked as he took Abraham Lincoln from my arms and handed him to Lane. The men all protested at the duchess being too near the wild animal, but there just wasn’t time for a lengthy conversation about it.

  A bird landed on my knee and then hopped off when Lot and Bastien each grabbed one of my arms to help me up. She chirped that they were just now entering the woods, but they were instructed not to stop until they found Reyn and brought him in to pay for his crimes.

  “They’re just getting into the woods, but they don’t want Reyn for questioning. They’ve already made up their minds that they’re going to punish him.”

  “But I didn’t kill Captain Burke! I’ll be given a fair trial.”

  “By your own father?” Rousseau scoffed. “No one would believe he could give his only son a fair trial. You’ll be hanged for certain.”

  Bastien hung his head as I leaned on Lot’s arm. “They know it was me. They know I did it, but they can’t hang me because I’m Untouchable. So they’re going after Reyn to get at me.” This brought out several deferential gasps that Bastien had taken down the hook-nosed, pancake makeupped bad guy. “They know hanging you would absolutely destroy me, Reyn.” He nodded to Henri. “Running is our best option. I won’t see Reyn hanged for something I did.”

  “It’s something I should’ve done,” Reyn postured with defiance, his chest puffing out and a sneer coming to his lips, which were better put to use smiling. “For what Burke did to you? Brother, I should’ve gutted him ages ago. For what he did to my sister?” He shook his head. “I’ve murdered him too many times to count in my mind.”

  Bastien shook his head. “Enough. We run to Duke Henri’s Castle, and leave from there after we’ve packed. They kill you, and there’s nothing left for me, Reyn. I’m serious. I can’t watch that go down.”

  Reyn cast aside his bravado and threw his arms around Bastien, gripping him tight, even though Bastien didn’t hug him back. Reyn took no offense, but seemed to understand that there were some things his BFF was simply not capable of doing in public. “Then we’ll run together, brother.”

  “Together,” Bastien confirmed.

  Lot led me toward his horse. It was white with gray spots on the rump that were totally gorgeous. “Wise choice, old friend. Come. We have horses enough to each take one of you with us. Princess, come with me.”

  It wasn’t often I saw panic well up in Bastien, but that’s exactly what choked his words when they squeezed out of him. It wasn’t belligerence, but actual fear. “No! We searched too long for them. I won’t let her ride off on some guy’s horse.”

  “‘Some guy?’” Duke Henri postured, as did the others. “You brought them here to meet us. Surely you trusted us enough for that. Remember the vow we all took, Bastien. We swore to take down Morgan le Fae and restore our lands. If one of us runs off with the duchess or the princess, that can’t happen.” He looked sharply around at the others. “Agreed?”

  Bastien still looked torn, but swallowed hard as he nodded. “I know.” The others muttered their consent that we would ride together, and Bastien’s shoulders began to relax a little. “Okay. Lane, you go with Henri. His horse is the fastest.” I noticed he chose the oldest man who hadn’t been pervy toward her.

  “I can lancer her,” Rousseau offered. While I didn’t know what “lancer” meant, Bastien and Reyn were very much opposed to it.

  “Lancer Remy instead,” Bastien ordered, casting a look of gratitude to Remy, who didn’t put up a fight.

  Reyn turned to me and explained, “Rousseau and Bayard are Wildmen. They can be in one place and transport themselves to another in a matter of a few blinks. Lancering someone is taking them with you when you go.”

  Reyn and Duke Henri helped Lane up on the horse that looked well-groomed, like his master. She looked like she was trying on a pair of old shoes that she couldn’t believe still fit her after all these years. “Just like riding a bike. I’m a little rusty, though.” Henri pulled himself up behind her with the agility of a man who was used to bridling his own horse. He carefully wrapped his arms on either side of her and lifted the reins with a silent nod of solidarity to Bastien. I caught the stiffness in Lane’s spine and guessed that for whatever reason, she knew Henri, and hated his guts.

  Remy moved to Rousseau, gripping his hand and giving me an encouraging smile that promised all would be fine. Reyn moved to Rousseau’s other side and picked up the furry red hand, catching Lane’s eye with an adoring look that told her he would see her again in a matter of minutes.

  Rousseau farted loudly, and then started to grumble. “Sure, sure. I can take the hit. It don’t cost me a whole load of extra magic ta lancer two men. No, I’m fine.”

  “I can lancer the Lost Princess, if you don’t want her on a horse,” Bayard offered.

  When Bayard waved me forward, both of us were hesitant, but Bastien was more direct with his feelings. “Not in this lifetime. I won’t be parted from Rosie. We searched too long, and trust you all as I do, I just can’t.” He slapped his flat stomach. “It’s a gut thing. I’ll just carry her.”

  I was leaning on Lot’s arm, but I reached over and held Bastien’s hand with my free one to calm his fears. I usually had pretty good d-bag radar, and trusted Lot to get me where we needed to go. “It’s alright. It’ll just be for a little bit. And we’re all riding together, right? It’s totally cool.” The birds started screaming that dozens of the two-headed pit bull dogs were running ahead of the army. “You can’t outrun the dogs that are on their way here, especially not carrying me. We have to go on horse. I can reason with some of them, but dozens? They’ll bark to their masters before I even have the chance to calm them down.”

  Lot’s fair eyebrows furrowed together. “Be reasonable, Bastien. Even if you can outrun the army, you’ll be useless when you reach Duke Henri’s castle. We might have to leave as soon as we get there, and we can’t have you using up all your energy on this.” He clapped Bastien hard on the shoulder, and then grabbed the reins of his horse. “Here, I’ll saddle up with Bayard. Take her on my horse. Does that make things easier?”

  Bastien gusted out so much relief, I hadn’t realized he was that apprehensive about the whole thing. I felt bad for the guy, knowing how much he held inside like a temperamental volcano. “Yes. Infinitely better. Thanks, man.” He dropped my arm and engulfed Lot in a two-fisted handshake that was reserved for someone who had just saved him from an ulcer. He pulled away and turned to me, his gaze determined but no longer overly worried. “Alright, Rosie. Up you get.”

  I’d seen people riding horses in movies, but being next to one for the first time was a little intimidating. The horses were far bigger than they look
ed on TV. The seat was as tall as my head. “I, um, you’re going to have to help me. I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

  “I can carry you to Duke Henri’s castle without guidance,” the horse assured me.

  “Well, that’s a good thing, but I’m just not sure how to get up on you. My leg is busted.”

  The horse whinnied, startling me. “I can help with that. For the Voix, I can do anything.”

  I leaned my forehead to his neck in thanks.

  Lot and Bastien each took one of my hands to hoist me up, but before they could, the horse’s legs folded underneath him and he sat down in the grass. Lot was beside himself, thinking his horse was dying or something. “Marquis! What’s wrong, old friend?”

  I hobbled next to Marquis and rubbed his flank. “He’s fine. He’s sitting down so I can get on him without hurting my leg. Help a girl out?”

  Bastien was more used to my animal-speak than Lot was. He was careful as he lowered me and set me atop Marquis’ white back. I knew it was probably more appropriate to ride sidesaddle, but I felt like I might fall off that way. I hiked up my dress to my thighs so I could sit more comfortably. Lane caught my lack of decorum and sighed, “Thank goodness. I hate sidesaddle. If I can ride like normal, I can hold Abraham Lincoln.” She sat up in the stirrups and wrapped her other leg on the side of the horse so she could ride more securely.

  Henri kept his eyes straight ahead, though I could tell he was disapproving of the scandal that were her toned, bare legs. He cleared his throat. “We meet at my son’s stables, not at the main castle. No one bothers him there.”

  “Your son? Which one?” Lane asked, and I thought I detected a note of hope in her voice.

  “I have only one son,” Henri ruled, his tone firm and final, leaving no room for kindness or questions. “Damond can be trusted with a secret like this.”