“Is that you, little mouthful?”
She grabbed the rail for support. The next moment the Dragon’s head reared up out of the smoke and Una found herself eye to eye with her captor. He regarded her through red slits of pupils. “See what a well-trained puppy I am, coming at your call?” Fire streamed through his teeth, and Una thought she would die of fear. “Come, Princess Tidbit,” the Dragon said. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“What . . . what . . .” She covered her face and bowed her head, unable to speak.
“It’s about that prince of yours, isn’t it?”
Una jerked her head up. “What has become of him?”
“He’s the one who’ll come for you, isn’t he?” the Dragon purred. His enormous tail twitched in the rubble. “The one your heart holds so dear, so pure.” His eyes flickered crimson in the swirling ash.
“What has become of him?” Una demanded again.
The Dragon laughed a billow of flame and turned. He crawled away into the wreckage, trailing laughter and smoke.
“No!” Una pounded the railing with her fists. Her voice came out in choked, furious barks. “Dragon, answer me! What has become of my jester?”
“Your jester?” The Dragon looked over his wing. “Your jester is dead.”
Una doubled over as though struck in the gut. “Leonard,” she breathed, sinking to her knees. “You killed him. I knew it. You killed him!”
“I? No, not I,” the Dragon said. “No, Prince Lionheart killed your jester. Jesters aren’t much use in reestablishing kingdoms.”
Hope, weak but alive, fluttered in Una’s heart. It hurt like a knife, but she clung to it even so. “Lionheart is alive?”
“If you want to call it that,” the Dragon said.
“You’ve seen him?”
“We met on the road between here and Southlands. I chose not to kill him. I’d not killed him the first time we met and saw no use in changing my mind. We made an agreement. Since I am through with his land, I promised to spare his life if he would do me a favor in return. He was willing enough to agree, for he knew I would kill him otherwise. He is back in Southlands – returned triumphantly a few months ago, I believe.”
“He’s alive,” Una whispered.
“Yes, yes, he’s well too, if that comforts you. He’s betrothed to some baron’s daughter, I hear – a childhood friend of his. A splendid match, they say, and such a happy couple.”
Una’s face lost all color, and the world tilted on end.
“He told me of you and your kingdom when we met,” the Dragon said. “I was intrigued by what he said, thinking perhaps I would at last find what I have long sought. And I have not been disappointed. I knew that prince would be useful to me.”
His words filled her mind like poisonous fumes. Bitterness clutched her throat, and she gagged. Blindly, she felt her way with her hands across the balcony, back into her chamber.
“The jester is dead, little princess,” the Dragon called from the garden ruins. “There’s only the prince left.”
Una crawled into her closet and crouched in the shadows, gasping and holding her head.
19
The king’s small escort thundered into Dompstead, Felix taking up the rear, for he found it difficult to ride with a cat slung over his shoulder. As they arrived at the garrison, Felix saw his father whisked out of sight before the prince had a chance to dismount. His one glimpse of Fidel’s face filled him with dread.
Monster leapt from his shoulder and darted into the shadows. Felix cried out and tried to give chase, but someone grabbed his arm.
“This way, prince,” a soldier said, all but dragging him into the fort. Felix, too tired to argue, allowed himself to be hustled down a dark corridor and between soldiers – none of whom recognized him, and few of whom would have cared if they had.
“This is your father’s room,” the soldier said, and disappeared the next moment, leaving Felix in an unlit, deserted hall outside a shut door. Felix tried the door handle, but it was locked. He put his ear to the door and heard voices on the other side, but no one answered his knock. He crossed his arms and slumped with his back against the door.
After what seemed like hours, he heard the sound of footsteps. A young officer, hardly older than Felix himself, appeared with a lamp in one hand and a stool in the other. “I was sent with this for you,” he said, holding the stool out to Felix.
“Thank you,” Felix said. “Can you tell me when I may see my father?”
The officer shrugged.
“What of Oriana?” Felix asked, placing the stool on the ground.
“What of General Argus?”
“I know nothing, Your Highness,” the officer said.
A voice at the end of the hall shouted, “Captain Janus! Captain!”