Kestrel rolled her eyes at herself. Magic wasn’t the answer. She needed to use her wits. It’s what Thom would do. And despite hating him for all the lies he weaved around her, she knew if he were here right now, he’d know exactly what to do.
Another distraction, Thom said in unison with her own thoughts.
Kestrel felt the loose brick under her hand from earlier. It didn’t take more than a few wiggles and shoves to break the loose brick, and when she did, she chucked it across the room. It hopped through the doorway the king-beast had originally bounded through before crashing into something solid beyond the door that she couldn’t see.
It was enough to catch his attention.
The king-beast twisted on his spindly heels and scrambled out the antechamber back the way he’d came, leaving Kestrel to think in peace.
She gave the room another once-over, this time noting the rafters just above her head. Those could make for safer travel through the rooms, or at least from one side to another. But one of them was already split in two and lay shattered on the floor below. She wasn’t sure how much weight the ones still standing could hold. Unless she was desperate, she didn’t think she should try.
Her gaze traveled lower, to the now-bare walls that had dozens of ghostlike impressions on them. Paintings used tohang in those barren spots. More frames and décor than she could even imagine. They must’ve covered the walls nearly floor-to-ceiling, given how many now lay in shambles on the ground.
This place was so unlike her simple tower, it made her wonder who used to live here and what might’ve happened to them. It was then that she noticed the bones littered among the debris. Seeing them now, it was a surprise she hadn’t noticed them sooner. They covered nearly every corner of the room. Some larger, but most small, likely belonging to the innocent woodland animals that were unfortunate enough to stumble through here. There were larger skulls as well though, some that looked canine like the coyotes common in Vallonde, others more human-like.
A weapon,Thom said.
Kestrel silently shot back,I don’t know how to make a weapon out of bones. Who do you think I am?
Thom’s laughter, warm and rich, rippled through her, bringing tears to her eyes.
Besides, she would need twine or something to tie them all together, and even then, most of the bones were so small that they’d hardly create something strong enough like the kind of weapon she thought she would need to defeat this beast.
Not to mention, Prince Leighton’s final words still echoed around her. The only way to drop the barrier trapping her inside was to end his father’s curse, not kill him.
Do I have magic, Thom? Is that why you made me wear that ring?
The question rang in her skull, and Kestrel wished desperately that the real Thom could answer.
Of course, not even the Imaginary-Thom gave a reply.
With a sigh, Kestrel turned her attention back to her hands. Without the ring, she didn’t feel any different. Maybe there wasa slight buzz beneath her skin, but that could also just be the adrenaline from having to narrowly escape whatever ravenous creature was in the other room now, hunting her.
But what if Leighton had been right? What if there really was magic in her blood, given to her by a mother who she had never known was the Corrupt Queen? And what if her magic was unknown to her, all because of a ring. If it had been a few days ago, the mere suggestion would’ve seemed far-fetched to her. But now? Kestrel had already learned that Thom was keeping secrets from her, keeping her hidden from communities of people she never knew existed. And what if magic was the reason? And if he knew about the magic, he knew about her mother.
Tears pricked her eyes, and Kestrel buried her face in hands that no longer felt like her own. Just for once, she wanted someone to be honest with her. To help her sift through all this impossible new information.
“Psst!” something hissed outside the window behind her. “Princess!”
Kestrel spun around, searching the dark woodland outside. She almost didn’t see him at first, but then the traitorous Micah stepped into the moonlight beneath her. There was no fox within his grasp anymore, and Kestrel felt herself crack in two at all the possibilities that came rushing at her. She wanted to scream. Wanted to grab the loose brick from the windowsill and chuck it at Micah’s skull for the part he played in all of this. But her own survival was more important.
Kestrel wiped the tears from her eyes the way a warrior would paint their face in red before battle.
“What do you want?” she hissed. “And don’t call me that.”
“Little bird it is then,” he said meekly, trying to lighten to mood. “I came to help you. If—if I can.”
He was keeping his voice low, either so the monster wouldn’t hear him, or perhaps so someone else wouldn’t.
“Does Leighton know you’re here?”
Micah shook his head. “Nah, the plan was to meet back down the trail that led here once he had gotten you inside. He’s either heading there now or just realizing I’m not there.”
“Why are you here then?”
“Like I told you before, I’m the brave brother.” A crooked smile tried inching up his face, but it promptly fell when he realized his charms weren’t going to work this time. With a long sigh, he amended, “Look, Leighton thinks people discover their magic when they’re forced to. But I don’t think that’s true. I want our father’s curse lifted as much as he does, but I think there could’ve been a better way to go about all this.”
How convenient that he felt this way now, after she had already been doomed.
