Page 12 of The Last Wish of Bristol Keats
Maybe so, she thought. Beginnings were made of hope, but endings were made of stubbornness and determination.
Still, she liked the idea of destiny, that they were meant to be together, that chance couldn’t step in the way. “You are my destiny, Tyghan.”
“And you are mine, Bristol Keats.”
Tyghan had dozed for minutes, maybe an hour, he wasn’t sure, every muscle spent and satisfied, his hand still laced with hers, when his rumbling stomach woke him. It was past the breakfast hour, and he had just expended considerable energy. “Hungry?” he asked.
“Starved,” Bristol answered dreamily.
“Let’s go down to the kitchens. I’ll make you something. Anything.” She sat upright. “One of those big, fluffy pancakes like you made at the farm?”
“It’s yours.”
They dressed and raced down to the palace kitchens, where dozens of cooks were already preparing food for the day. They were a wonder to watch, creating cakes that were works of art for the evening festivities, and seasoning meat with pinches of herbs as thoughtfully as a painter applies strokes of paint to a canvas. Everyone was so immersed in their tasks, they barely noticed the couple enter the kitchen, but when Tyghan grabbed a frying pan from a rack, heads turned and the chefs welcomed the king and his guest.
But before the butter had even melted in Tyghan’s pan or an egg was cracked, Ivy rushed in, her wings fluttering in a state of urgency. “There’s been a delivery at the front gates. It’s a package for you.”
“Take it to Eris or the throne room. I’ll tend to it later—”
“I’m afraid you need to come now,” she said. “It’s from the Dark-land monster.”
By the time Tyghan and Bristol reached the palace gates, there was a crowd of knights waiting for him, their weapons drawn. Archers stood ready, arrows nocked, bows taut. Hollis and Julia were just arriving, the other recruits not far behind. Even Cully was there, fresh from Madame Chastain’s infirmary, readying an arrow. Olivia and Esmee tested the air around a wooden chest for magic, their hands raised, ready for battle.
“It appears clean,” Esmee said with some hesitation. Olivia nodded to confirm, but kept her hands poised to deflect a potential attack.
Eris stepped forward. “I’ll take care of—”
Tyghan waved him away. “I’ve got it,” he said, eyeing the large chest. Bristol looked over his shoulder as Tyghan knelt and undid the latch. He carefully eased opened the lid. On top of a red velvet cloth was a folded piece of paper. Tyghan lifted the note and unfolded it. In beautiful scrolled lettering was a message:
Send my daughter to the base of Queen’s Cliff by midday. Alone.
I will meet with hertoday,or by tomorrow the next head delivered to your palace will be your brother’s.
Tyghan crumpled the note in his fist. “Clear the area.”
“No,” Kasta said from behind. “We all need to see what the monster has delivered.”
Quin rumbled agreement. “Her deeds can’t be kept hidden.”
Tyghan stood and grabbed a fistful of the velvet cloth, lifting the contents. The weight inside the cloth shifted, and the promised head tumbled out onto the ground.
For a brief moment there was shocked silence, as everyone stared at the severed head with bloodstained flowing white hair. A head with graceful curved horns, and beautiful blue eyes that stared sightless into the sky.
Glennis.
There were seconds of confusion, then cries of disbelief. Cully turned, his hands squeezing his head. Eris’s face drained to a sickly pallor.
Bristol stumbled, turning away, falling into someone’s arms. Julia’s. When she looked back, Tyghan had already covered the head with the cloth.
“I’m going,” Bristol said. “And I’m going alone.”
CHAPTER 11
Eris watched from a distance as Tyghan and Bristol argued at the entrance to the barn. They were all still reeling from Glennis’s death, but there was no time to grieve. Decisions had to be made. Time was short. Maybe the arguing gave Tyghan and Bristol a reprieve from the horror. Though it was really only Tyghan who argued. He demanded and commanded. But he was losing. Miss Keats was unwavering, and her logic was sound. She had to go. She was the only one who could. Cael’s life depended on it, and no one doubted Maire was true to her word. No one cut off heads, then issued an ultimatum as an empty gesture. The question was, what did Maire intend to do with her daughter?
The recruits huddled nearby, exchanging their own whispers and solutions. Avery openly wept, and Rose repeatedly shook her head, as if she couldn’t believe what had happened. Glennis had been beloved among the recruits, always the most encouraging officer. She had been beloved among her fellow officers as well. Cully leaned against the paddock fence with his eyes closed, still struggling to compose himself.
Kasta’s gaze was fixed on Tyghan as he and Bristol argued. “Should we step in?” she wondered aloud.
