“But who’s going to watch the house when we—”
Before I could finish my argument we were surrounded by woodsmen, and they were ushering me silently through the streets of Dramera. “You need to stay quiet, Your Majesty,” he whispered into my ear. “We don’t want to wake anyone up.”
“Why not?” I murmured. “Shouldn’t we want the army with us?”
“No.” Eamon shook his head. “Rhys and your consort said that it was one of those special missions where only a few people know about them. Control missions.”
“Commando missions?” I asked. “They want to do some sort of weird commando mission to capture the Fate Maker? That doesn’t seem like a very good idea.”
“You’ll have to trust us, Your Majesty,” Eamon said. The woodsmen navigated us out of the town center, and we started toward the lake. “We’ll hike around the side of the lake and then meet up with my father and the rest of your generals at the cliffs.”
I nodded and followed as we started to skirt the lake on the west side, keeping close to the forest. I listened to the sounds of the night birds and the crickets and the softly lapping water. Halfway around the lake the woodsmen at the front of our ranks stopped. The one closest to the lake jerked his head in the direction of the lake.
“What’s—” I started.
Eamon touched my arm. “Shhh.”
The woodsman who had stopped the group pointed toward the far side of the lake and held a finger to his lips. He motioned again, miming that he was going to go check something out. Rocks began to clatter, and the sound of something splashing in the waves followed. I looked between the darkness and Eamon.
“We need to go.” He motioned me into the underbrush, away from the lake, and I tried to keep up with the woodsmen racing along like silent shadows all around me.
We kept moving, hiking farther from the lake with every step, farther from the cliffs as we moved away from Dramera. “What are we doing? I thought we were supposed to be meeting your father and everyone else at the edge of the cliffs?”
“We’re looping around,” Eamon said. “We’ll be there soon. I promise. You just need to trust me. Between the two of us we’ll find a way to save this world from the chaos it’s sunken into.”
“What?”
“We’ll make Nerissette so powerful that no one will question us again. We’ll go over the White Mountains and wrestle your aunt’s throne from her. Then the woodsmen will control all of Bathune. We’ll have the forests there as our own.”
“Eamon.” I stopped. “What are you talking about?”
“We’re going to run this world like it’s supposed to be run. No more bowing to a girl. To a child. We’ll be so powerful that no one will stop us. We’ll harness the magic of this world and we’ll make it worthy again. A strong Nerissette run by a strong leader. No more Fate. No more Golden Rose.”
“You’re—” My stomach clenched as all the bad feelings suddenly came to a head. “Your father didn’t send you to get me, did he?”
“And now she’s figured it out.” Eamon rolled his eyes at me.
“There is no meeting of my generals. No commando mission.”
“Of course there isn’t,” he said. “Do you seriously think they would take you on a secret stealth mission to capture the Fate Maker? That he would have been stupid enough to come at the front of his army, without soldiers to guard him? My father—our father—wouldn’t risk it.”
“Our father?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Our father.” Eamon sneered at me. “The man who is father to both of us.”
“Wait, what do you mean?”
“What do you think I mean?” He glared at me. “You and I have the same father. How difficult is that for you to figure out?”
“We don’t have the same father. Trust me, I wish John of Leavenwald was my father, but he’s not.”
“Well, then aren’t you going to be pleasantly surprised?” he hissed. “Because my dad is your dad.”
“No.” I shook my head at him. “He’s not.”
“And what makes you so sure?” Eamon asked.
“Because John of Leavenwald wasn’t my mother’s prince consort. The Fate Maker was. He’s my father. I know it’s screwed up since he and my aunt are apparently teaming up to kill me, but it’s the truth. The Fate Maker is my dad.”
“What?” One of the other guardsmen shifted and stared between us. “The Fate Maker is her father? I thought you said—”
“The Fate Maker isn’t her father,” Eamon snarled.
“Yes,” I argued. “He is. I know he is. He told me he is. We had our Darth Vader ‘Luke, I am your father’ moment. Sure he wasn’t wearing the creepy mask and breathing funny, but the effect was the same.”
“Did he?” Eamon said. “Did he look at you and say, ‘Princess Allie, I am your long-lost father’?”
“Well, no.” I swallowed. “But he was there when I was born. He said he came to the hospital, and he was my mother’s consort and—”
“He was in the hospital because he was trying to kill you,” Eamon said. “He wanted to kill you and your mother both, but he couldn’t manage it. He didn’t have the relics, so he couldn’t transport himself into your world as anything more than a reflection. An image. He could see you, but he couldn’t touch you. He couldn’t end your miserable life.”
“But—”
“Until he figured out how to scare your mother to death, that is.” Eamon grinned. “Too bad he couldn’t do the same to you. He’s not your father. My father is.”
I shook my head. “He’s not. My mother was always telling me stories about John of Leaven—”
I stopped. My mother had always told me stories about John of Leavenwald. Always. Always. Even though his stories were good, great even, they weren’t my favorites, but it seemed like every time I let my mother choose what story she was going to tell me it was always one about John of Leavenwald and his mouse, Eamon.
Handsome John of Leavenwald. The most handsome man in the World of Dreams. So fair that the birds all sang to make him smile, and the flowers would wilt when he walked by because they were jealous. The sun smiled just so that it could see him, and where John went no rain ever followed.
My mother’s stories were always super moony when it came to John. More moony, even, than I got over Winston.
My jaw dropped before I could stop it. “She was in love with him. My mother was in love with your father.”
“Duh.” Eamon threw his arms out to the side and bowed slightly, snarling. “Now you’re finally catching on.”
I looked around at the woodsmen. “So this is what? Sibling rivalry? You’re going to turn me over to the Fate Maker because you want to be an only child? Doesn’t that seem a bit psycho to you?”
“Not nearly as psycho as trusting our world to a child.” Eamon huffed and shook his head. The other guards started to shift, and I wondered how they felt about this whole thing. “And this has nothing to do with our shared family ties.”
“So then why—”
“I’m getting rid of you because you are destroying our world,” Eamon said. “I’m going to free this world from Fate, and the Fate Maker and from you.”
“Eamon,” one of the guardsmen said softly. “We’ve a long way to go tonight. If we don’t leave now we won’t make it to the meeting spot.”
“The meeting spot?” I asked. “Who are we meeting? The Fate Maker? My aunt?”
“None of your business,” Eamon said, and then turned his back on me. “Tie her up.”
I tried to back away as the rest of the woodsmen surrounded us. Before I could reach my sword they had me trapped between them, two of them grabbing my arms and another two lifting my feet. A fifth guard came forward with a length of rope and bound it first around my wrists, then around my ankles.