Hero

Saturday’s arm moved from around his waist once again; this time, she removed the wood-handled brush from her skirt pocket. She closed her eyes, as if saying a small prayer, and threw the brush behind them. It tumbled ungracefully through the air before being swallowed by the ocean.

This time, nothing happened.

Peregrine bowed into Betwixt’s mane again, shielding his raw cheeks from the continued onslaught of wind. Saturday curled into Peregrine as well, muttering something into his back. A prayer, an apology, a declaration of love, a curse—Lord Death would let him know which, but he bet on the latter.

A new roar echoed in his ears, but it was not the dragon. Colored lightning fell from the chaotic clouds around them to snap against the breaking waves. Betwixt ascended as the waves rose up to meet them. The valleys began revealing houses, fences, and trees. Faster and faster the ocean fled, and from that drying earth grew the forest.

As soon as Betwixt found a suitable stretch of solid ground, he landed. The chimera’s breaths came heavy and his straining muscles were hot beneath Peregrine’s hands. He folded his great wings and continued to gallop, dodging back and forth as massive oaks and evergreens shot up around them.

The dragon shrieked in frustration at the loss of its quarry. Peregrine heard the rumble and blast that came with its fire, but the wet, new wood of this forest blessedly caught no flame. Betwixt slowed under the cover of a copse of ash and chestnut, the monoliths’ leaves taking on autumn hues even as they budded and grew.

The dragon shrieked again, but this time it sounded farther away. Peregrine could no longer distinguish its wing beats. Betwixt stopped to let them dismount. Peregrine collapsed to the damp ground, for his legs did not have the strength to hold him. Saturday hugged the nearest tree trunk before sinking down to the forest floor beside him.

A lump in his skirt squeaked, and Saturday shook the fabric in an effort to free the frightened brownie. The rodent bit her fingertip before disappearing into the wood.

“Ungrateful scamp,” Peregrine called after it, but he had no strength for bluster.

“It’s only a scratch,” said Saturday.

“Shame,” said Peregrine. “Now you ca

Saturday bowed her head so that the longer strands of her hair occluded her face. “I need to get to the abbey,” she said. “My mother will be waiting for me there.”

“Then we go to the abbey,” said Peregrine. His skin itched mightily. He scratched at his chin. Now that the witch was dead, Leila’s curse seemed to be ru

“Which abbey?” asked Betwixt.

“I . . . I don’t know. From our house it was north and east, on the plains between the mountains and the sea. My aunt is the abbess there.”

“What is your aunt’s name?” asked the pegasus.

“Six,” answered Saturday. “Or, rather, Rose Red.”

“Rose Abbey,” said Betwixt. “I know the place. When we’ve rested, we’ll make our way there.”

Saturday nodded and leaned back against the tree. Betwixt shook out his wings and grazed on a patch of newbirthed grass.

Peregrine lay back on the solid ground, dug his fingers into the soft dirt, and breathed in the sweet, fresh forest air. He knew that living to see the end of this day had consequences. For the moment, he simply wanted to enjoy his freedom.

17

Fate’s Playthings

IT TOOK the trio about a day to get to Rose Abbey. When they tired of walking, Betwixt flew, when he tired of flying, they walked, and when exhaustion overwhelmed them all, they collapsed on the forest floor, slept awhile, awoke, and started again. Betwixt gorged himself on sweet, wet grass and Saturday remembered enough of her skill to bring down a small rabbit with her dagger, but they were still filthy and half starved when they reached their destination.

They found the road to the abbey from the air. Upon it rode a wide, flat wagon with a single driver who appeared intent on the same destination.

Betwixt landed before the great walled entrance to the abbey just as the wagon arrived. The climbing roses that covered the bricks reminded Saturday of the roses surrounding the Woodcutter house. To the left of the grand archway, crimson petals bloomed like bloodstains. The roses to the right of the archway bore petals of the purest white.

The large mahogany doors of the abbey opened before the party was halfway through the courtyard. A slip of a woman with a mop of red-gold curls burst out onto the stone porch and flew down one side of the split stair, while another woman in stately burgundy robes gracefully descended the other. Peregrine dismounted and helped Saturday down from Betwixt’s back. She locked her unsteady knees, bracing herself for the impact of Thursday’s embrace.

“Saturday.” Her sister breathed her name into the skin of her neck opposite her ragged ear. “You have no idea how good it is to see you.” Thursday backed up to hold her at arm’s length. “You look like hell.”

Saturday shook her hair into her face to hide the worst of the damage.

Erik, not to be outdone by the Pirate Queen, caught Saturday up in a quick hug. “Missed you, Giantess.”

“Back at you, Hero.”

“Perhaps I should be calling you that.”

“Some strays have followed you home.” Thursday nodded to Peregrine and Betwixt. “Spoils of war?”

Peregrine swept his skirt back in a half-bow, half-curtsey, as if he wore royal robes instead of ancient rags. “Peregrine of Starburn. This is my companion, Betwixt.”

Betwixt stepped one foot forward, spread his wings to either side, and bowed his head low. The effect was incredibly impressive.

“You’ve got stories,” said Erik.

“We all have stories,” said the abbess.

Saturday bowed to her aunt. “Hello, Aunt Rose.”

“I’d say ‘well met,’ dear niece, but I suspect none of us has glad tidings this day.”

“Don’t hug her,” warned Thursday. “She smells like the devil’s stable.”

The driver dismounted from the wagon’s seat and removed his hat. He was a scruffy, hirsute man with eyes like the storm they’d flown through to escape the dragon.

“Wolf.” The abbess held her hands out to greet him.

He kissed both her cheeks and then knelt to kiss her ring of office. “My beloved Rose Red.”

“I had not foreseen that this day would bring such a bounty.” Rose Red shot a glance at Thursday. Thursday, who possibly knew all of this from her spyglass, looked away. “I believe it would be best if Saturday and her companions were properly bathed and clothed before we go any further. Erik, would you see Betwixt to the stables?”

“No need, Your Eminence.” In a flash of light, the pegasus was replaced by a scruffy young boy with stubby horns, a short beard, and goat’s feet. Betwixt, in his new form, bowed again to the abbess.

If this act surprised Rose Red at all, she did not show it. “All children of earth are welcome in the home of their Mother Goddess. Shall we?” As they entered through the large doors, the abbess waved her hand and several acolytes appeared.

Thursday grabbed Saturday’s hand and pulled her along. “Come on, Miss Molasses,” she said. Of all the Woodcutter sisters, it was no surprise that she and Saturday most often repeated this particular phrase of Mama’s.

Erik led Peregrine and Betwixt in the opposite direction. Saturday hadn’t realized until that moment that she wasn’t truly comfortable leaving her companions. Peregrine’s eyes met hers across the foyer and he nodded that he would be all right. Saturday hoped that was true. Everything was changing so fast.

“Where’s Mama?” she asked.

“Inside,” Rose Red said calmly. “I’ll see to her. You may join us in the chapel when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” she told her aunt. If Mama saw her like this, who knew what conclusions she’d jump to. She let Thursday drag her to the women’s chambers.