POPPY
“Why did we have to wake up so early for this?” Driscoll whined as we all stood at the bottom of the tower, his beanstalk shrinking away.
“He didn’t get his breakfast,” Leoni said, “and now we’re going to hear him whine until he does.”
Driscoll crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the ground. “So what are we doing down here?”
“I think I know where the bolt is,” I said. “I figured it out last night.”
Leoni’s mouth dropped open. “Spirit Sky’s bolt?” She glanced around like she was afraid someone might overhear.
“No, the other all-powerful bolt that can free a trapped spirit,” Driscoll said.
Leoni glared at him. “Seriously, somebody get him some food.”
Driscoll opened his mouth to presumably say something snarky when Loch stuffed a wild berry right between his lips.
“There,” Loch said. “Now can we go get this bolt and get to the conclave already?”
I smiled and spread out my arms. “We don’t have to go very far.”
Loch’s eyes traveled up to the stone above us, the only one burned by lighting.
It had come to me suddenly when Loch had said that word. Divine. Lightning could strike in the same place, yes, but to strike the same stone again and again and again? Maybe it wasn’t random or coincidental. Maybe it truly was because there was something divine hidden behind that stone. I’d wondered if Gran knew all along, if that’s what she’d been trying to tell me.
I arched my neck, shading my eyes against the sun. “Emory said that she suspected the spirits had been trapped by those of the Old World, which Gran confirmed. And I think if I were going to trap the spirits and needed to hide their weapons somewhere where I’d never want them to be found, it would be a location everyone believes to be cursed.”
We all turned our gazes to the tower.
“So you think it’s actually buried in the tower?” Driscoll asked. “Because it’s going to take a long time to dismantle this thing, and these hands”—he raised his palms in the air—“were not made for manual labor.”
My gaze lifted to that scorched piece of stone above us.
Driscoll pointed. “There? You think it’s up there?”
“We have no other leads and nothing else to go on without Emory here.” I bit my lip. “We have to try.”
Driscoll threw up his arms. “Guess that means I’m going to be using my magic to summon another beanstalk—and on an empty stomach.”
Loch cut out an arm. “I can use my magic.”
I pressed a hand into his chest. “Absolutely not. You almost died yesterday.”
He winked. “I like it when you’re bossy.”
“Ugh,” Driscoll said.
Leoni scowled at Loch. “You did die yesterday. Poppy is right. Absolutely no magic.”
“I can fly up there myself,” I said.
“You’re not flying anywhere,” a voice said.
We all froze, then turned toward the intruder. My father stepped out from the thicket of wildflowers, Saestra next to him, her nervous gaze bouncing between us.
My father took another step forward, and Loch tugged me back toward him. Leoni dropped her hand at her side, a sword of water unraveling and pointing toward him. I gaped at her, surprised the former captain of the guard would dare draw a weapon on a king.
Driscoll noticed, too, scratching his head. “You know you can be imprisoned for life for this.” He gestured to her weapon.
