Page 42 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne
My fathers waved at us the whole time, smiling and happy, confident their son would return a hero. Hopefully it wouldn’t be the last time I ever saw them.
The carriage drove straight through the night. Nobody complained, probably because most of us fell asleep before we realized we wouldn’t be stopping at an inn. Slumped over on a carriage seat was still better rest than we’d get while camping.
In the morning, we stopped at the last restaurant on the boundary between The Desolated Lands and the Rest of the World.
We all crowded around a table, a dozen plates spread out before us.
“You know,” I said as I peeled a shrimp with a tiny fork, “therearerestaurants out there. We don’t have to treat this like our last meal on earth.”
Everyone’s chewing slowed as they looked at me. A noodle stuck out of the corner of Delilah’s mouth, and she slurped it up loud enough to draw the attention of another table.
Angelica cleared her throat and patted her lips with a napkin like she hadn’t just shoved an entire stuffed pepper into her mouth. “You’re awfully familiar with the outside world, Trey.”
I poked at my soup, the least effective food to poke at, and said nonchalantly, “At least one of us is.”
“He has a point,” Fitz said, removing his glasses to wipe away some steam before putting them back on. “There are inns, restaurants, bookstores, libraries, publishing houses—”
“Your list is awfully book-themed,” Delilah said. “You know we’re not likely to visit any libraries on this quest, right?”
“You’d be surprised,” he said. “I’ve been reading up on Traumstead, the city cursed into the Grimnight Forest—”
“When could you possibly have time?” Angelica demanded.
Fitz held up a book that’d been sitting in his lap. “Right now. Anyway, they had a rather famous library sometimes referred to as The Library of Dreams. Many scholars were disappointed when they lost accessto their collection of rare books and magic-centered research. If the library is still there, we might find something inside to help us break the curse.”
“If it’s still there, it’s definitely haunted,” I said.
“Haunted bylibrarians.” Only Fitz would be excited by that prospect. “Who better to ask for help? They’d know their way around the collection,andthey might have witnessed the curse firsthand. Can you imagine the research they’ve gathered in their afterlife?”
“I wouldn’t trust ghost librarians,” Maximus said. “They’d probably want to makeuspart of the collection.”
I shuddered at the thought. “Perhaps we should avoid haunted places.”
Fitz frowned. “The entire Grimnight Forest is supposed to be haunted.”
“Fine, then we should avoidprofessionallyhaunted places.”
The meal continued like that, sometimes bickering, sometimes deflecting, until every dish—and the few extras we ordered—was licked clean. Literally, when Delilah ignored decorum and licked her plate in front of everyone.
“Before we leave, I’m going to take a piss,” I said, pushing my chair back from the table.
Angelica wrinkled her nose. “You don’t have to say it like that!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to have offended your delicate sensibilities,Your Highness.”
She scoffed. “That’s not an insult when it’s my proper title.”
“It is when you’re too insignificant for me to remember your name.”
“You—” she sputtered.
I walked out of earshot before she recovered enough to fire any returning shots. The bathrooms were at the back of the restaurant, far enough away from the guests that no one would smell them.
Or hear a conversation.
I locked the door and walked to the farthest corner of the small room. Then I pulled the compact mirror out of my pocket. As I suspected, the gold had tarnished into black, signaling a new message.
I opened it to find two words written across the glass in small, precise script:Call Me.
