9
Rosalina
I take my lunch to the library, puzzling over my father’s latest letter. I’ve entrusted Astrid and
Marigold to hunt for texts that might help. He sent a rubbing of an ancient ruin depicting a woman
with her hands extended to a flock of birds. In his letter, he wrote that the image felt important.
But I wonder if perhaps my father is just biased. The birds looked like Pacific Wrens, my mother’s
favorite animal.
A part of me smiles at that, him looking for any connection back to her. But then again, Papa has
always had great instincts. Maybe it is a clue.
I give a deep sigh and tuck the paper into my book bag, my thorn bow leaning against it. Dayton
put me through quite the workout this morning. Plus, he only let me use the thorn bow a few times
before we decided, yes, it was easier to shoot with.
“You have to learn the old-fashioned way, Blossom,” he’d said. “You might not always have that
with you. Learn to shoot with a wooden one and you can wield anything. And then be extra deadly
with that thorn monstrosity.”
Which had led to hours of hitting the back wall, but I had managed to nail the target four times.
Three more than yesterday.
But no more water arrows appeared. I’m not sure I could recreate one even if I wanted to. The
same with my own golden thorns: whatever magic I tapped into is still sealed inside.
When we finally finished training and started stretching, Dayton confronted me about Caspian.
The truth came pouring out of me ... At least, most of it.
Caspian saving me on the battlefield, him being dressed in Autumn armor, me stealing his book
and that’s what Caspian had been looking for last night. It was just the part about the bargain that I left
out. What would Dayton think of me? Especially after Farron’s bargain with the Prince of Thorns
went so horribly wrong?
But Dayton had been surprisingly understanding. He told me to show the book to Farron, which I
know is a good idea. I need to tell Farron the whole truth. I need to tell all of them.
Something shimmers at the edge of my vision. I stand, narrowing my gaze, and absently grab my
bow. Fae sight is far superior to humans, and I’ve found myself caught off-guard by the detail in the
world these last weeks.
Rounding the corner, all I see is Astrid on a ladder, dropping books down to Marigold. Nothing
out of the ordinary. But there, amid the orange and red trees, is green.
A phantasmal green.
“Look out!” I draw the bow and create a thorn arrow from my bracelet. I shoot.
A blur of green flame advances on Astrid and Marigold. My shot isn’t straight, but I feel for my
arrow. The thorn catches in my mind and careens toward the flame.
A horrible keening sound fills the air, followed by a thud.
The breath is heavy in my throat, and my vision clears. Astrid has leapt from the ladder and
become a trembling white hare in Marigold’s arms.
“What in the Above?” Marigold gasps.
A quick scan of the library shows no more flickers of flame, and I approach to see what exactly I
shot.
It’s a goblin, but not like one I’ve ever seen before. It’s got the same rotten appearance as the ones
that frequent the briars around Castletree, but veins of fluorescent green snake around its body. Dying
flames curl over its hands and feet.
“What are you?” I gasp in horror.
The creature blinks its unnaturally green eyes. Black blood spews from its mouth, and it seems to
notice my arrow piercing through its stomach for the first time. It doesn’t look afraid.
“So much more than before,” it says, words descending into a maddening laugh.
“How did you get into Castletree?” I snarl.
Its head flops to the ground. “Easy to infect something that’s already dying. Sick, so sick, from
Brother Caspian’s magic.”
Brother? Even these goblins think Caspian is poisoning Castletree. I remember being so afraid of
these things when they first ambushed me in the Briar. But now, all I feel is anger. I yank the arrow out
of its stomach. “Leave and tell your kind anyone else who comes here will not be shown such mercy.”
But the creature does not try to move. It only smiles wider, showing rows and rows of razor-sharp
teeth. “Death is the greatest gift one such as us can be given.” Then it takes its gnarled hands on either
side of the belly wound and rips.
A terrible squelching sounds, as blood and guts gush out.
I clutch my own stomach in horror, but the creature only laughs. “My kin has already retrieved the
gift for Sister.”
“There are more of them?” Astrid peeps, her little pink nose peering out from Marigold’s golden
tresses.
Pushing back bile, I turn from the horrific sight before me. “Hurry, warn the rest of the staff. Tell
them to barricade in the closest room. I’ll find Dayton.”
“No goblin is going to wreck my castle!” Marigold says, a ferocious glint in her eyes. With a
horrible squelch, she drives her boot down upon the creature’s throat, putting it out of its misery.
“Be careful. These things are dangerous.”
Marigold only gives me a sly grin, then pulls up her skirt to reveal a dagger strapped to her thigh.
“There isn’t a citizen of Spring that doesn’t know their way around a blade, girlie.”
I nod at her, and we rush toward the exit. The floor creaks behind me. I urge Astrid and Marigold
on. Then I turn.
The goblin’s body has completely been consumed by green flame. And it’s catching the brittle
leaves.
“No!” I scream. I will not let my favorite place in the entire world be taken from me. Salt tingles
in my nose, and I throw my hands forward. A torrent of water erupts from my fingers.
It washes over the flames, dousing the fire and revealing a skeleton clawing out of the goblin’s
body.
Just like the soldiers from the Autumn battlefield. A familiar wave of fear rises, but I don’t let it
take over. If I do, I’ll never get to Dayton. The flames will return and the whole library will fall.
I can’t let that happen.
The goblin skeleton hobbles toward me just as I draw my bow. I shoot, guiding the arrow to strike
its ribs. The sharp thorn pierces the bone, cracking it.
But the creature doesn’t stop moving.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” How do you kill a creature who’s already dead? Farron needed a
whole ancient ass death spell to do it.
A terrible howl sounds from the monster as it reaches its bony fingers toward me, green flames
already beginning to flicker along the bone.
“No, no, no,” I stammer, trying to get out of its way. But its sharp claws rake across my chest.
I scream, scrambling back. It’s only nicked my leather covering. Thank goodness I was too eager
to get to the library to change out of my training gear.
What do I do? I slide my bow on my back, and then, on instinct, grab the biggest tome I can see
off a nearby shelf.
The goblin lunges, and I swing the book as hard as I can against its head. Its skull dislodges and
breaks into a pile of ash as it hits the floor. The body follows suit.
I let out a gasping breath. All right, so my zombie reading phase wasn’t all for naught: a solid
headshot will do the trick. It looks like these things aren’t as hard to kill as Perth’s undead soldiers.
I need to find Dayton.
I sprint out of the library. Where had Dayton said he was going after training? The hot springs? I
rush into the muggy corridor but pause. He’s not here. Something tugs painfully in my chest, and I turn
on my heels without even checking the springs. He’s in his room.
My boots kick up sand as I run fast down the hall. But there are small footprints in the dust,
dozens of them—all leading to the Summer Prince’s room.