Chapter 24

“Judica! JUDICA!”

I’m raging. She isn’t in her room, the ballroom, the throne room, or the kitchen, and I don’t know where to look next.

“Sister.” At the sound of her quiet voice, I spin around. Death is at her heels as always. And probably in response to the threat in my voice, the fur along his back is raised and his ears are up. Judica’s wearing a burgundy gown that matches Mom’s Marchesa almost perfectly, but with a burgundy overlay instead of silver.

I can’t quite keep the tremble out of my voice when I accuse her. “You killed my dog.”

Her eyebrows rise and her eyes widen in surprise at first, but no. Maybe I imagined that because her arched eyebrow and cold words confirm my suspicion. “Pity it was only the dog.”

I scream and run toward her. I don’t know quite what I’ll do when I get there, but my fingers are curling up and I’m itching to sink my fingernails into the skin on her face. Someone pulls me back just before I reach her, and I spin around to face him or her.

It’s Edam.

“Let me go,” I say. “You don’t understand!”

“I understand your dog died and you’re upset, but you have no evidence Judica had anything to do with it.”

“You’re defending her?” I snarl. “She killed my dog.” My voice cracks. “Again.”

Judica’s laughter chills me to the bone.

Edam’s voice is a low rumble in my ear. “I’m not an expert on dogs, but I’m pretty sure they can’t die twice. Unless Cookie was a zombie dog.”

I appreciate what he’s trying to do, but his attempted joke enrages me more.

Quiet or not, Judica must have heard him, because she says, “I killed Fruity Pebbles, her first spaniel, on our ninth birthday.” Judica’s still standing in the exact same spot, completely calm, seemingly unconcerned. “No zombies that I know of, canine or otherwise.”

“This isn’t a joke,” I grind out between clenched teeth. “Cookie is dead.” My voice wavers even though I try to keep sorrow out of the equation. How can she still hurt me after so many years?

“A pity,” she says.

I strain against Edam’s arms, but they hold me firmly.

“She said it’s a pity.” Edam’s looking right at me, not even bothering to glance at Judica. “See? She’s sorry. It’s some kind of misunderstanding.”

“That’s not what she means.” I growl. “She meant that it was a pity she killed my dog on our ninth birthday, because she meant to kill me instead. I didn’t eat her disgusting poisoned cookies, but Pebbles did.”

Edam doesn’t speak but he lets go of me, his brow furrowing. I assumed he knew. I assumed everyone knew the story. It seems like something Judica would gloat about.

Judica’s lip curls, but I’m not stupid enough to think it’s really a smile. “I didn’t know about your distaste for sweets then and I miscalculated. An understandable oversight, since you named your mutt after a sugary breakfast cereal.”

Rage swells inside me as I think about Pebbles’ cold body, and now Cookie’s. “That’s your problem, Judica. You didn’t know me then and you don’t know me now. If you’d spent five minutes with me that weren’t forced upon you, you could’ve killed me then and saved yourself all this hassle.”

“Oh, I think I learned my lesson. Believe me sister, if I wanted to kill you now, I wouldn’t make the same mistake.” Death growls as if to emphasize her point.

“You’d just decapitate me during a training session, is that it?” I clench and unclench my fists. “But when that didn’t work because Edam stopped you, maybe you’d give poison another go.”

Edam looks from me to Judica and back. He gestures at the people who are gathering in the hall to listen. “Let’s all calm down. Maybe we can find your mother and talk to her about this. In private.”

Judica turns on Edam. “I’m surprised you can look me in the eye after yesterday.” Judica’s eyes flash and I need to know what exactly happened. “I don’t take orders from you. I haven’t had this much fun in months, so go away and leave us alone. You’re good at that.”

“What happened yesterday?” I ask. “What made you dump him?”

Judica’s face turns bright red and it’s suddenly clear to me. I’m grinning like a fool when I say, “Whoa, you didn’t.” I shouldn’t gloat, I know that. But I can’t help it. “He dumped you.”

I might be imagining it, but Judica sounds a little bit broken when she says, “As much as I wish I could, I can’t take credit. I had nothing to do with your dog’s death. Was that all you wanted from me, Chancery?”

I want to demand that her dog die this time, too. She needs to pay, but I realize it’s not Death’s fault. She should have to pay herself. “I’m going to challenge you.”

“You’re challenging me?” She laughs bitterly. “Do it, I beg you. I’ve wanted to challenge you for years, but Mother would never forgive me. If you challenge me, I’ll finally be rid of you, and it won’t even be my fault.”

“Fine,” I say. “I, Chancery Divinity—”

The door to my room opens and I jump. No one ever goes into my room without my permission. Who could be coming out of it?

When Mom emerges with tears streaking her cheeks, I’m confused. She never goes in my room unless I’m there, too. Her voice is soft, but cuts like a knife. “Would you break my heart, Chancy?” She stands just outside my door, Duchess beside her. “On my birthday? My two beautiful daughters at one another’s throats?”

My mouth opens, but no words come out.

“I was leaving a gown on your bed. I wanted us all to coordinate for my birthday ball, but then I heard you yelling in the hallway.”

An answering tear rolls down my cheek. Dang it. I can’t cry, not now. Not in front of her. The words feel torn from me. “She killed Cookie, Mom.”

“Is that true, Judica?” Mom asks.

“I didn’t touch her mongrel, I swear it.” Her smirk makes my blood boil.

“She might not have touched him, but she poisoned him. She always lies in a way that sounds like truth. Gah, listen to her—”

“Chancery, please.” Mom glances at the audience that has gathered and my face flushes. I know better than to act like this in front of guests, no matter how angry and hurt I am.

“I want something from you both,” Mom whispers. “I want you to stop fighting for just one day.”

I know I shouldn’t argue, but my heart is broken. I can’t help it. “But, Mom,” I say, “she—”

She shakes her head sharply. “No. Tomorrow you can hate her again, but for today, please be at peace.” She pleads with her eyes and reinforces it with her words. “Do this for me, little dove.”

It’s more effective than any order ever could be. It’s her birthday, and she never asks for anything. She looks so sad and so tired. I’ve never seen her look so old. I can wait one day. When I think of my poor, sweet Cookie I simmer inside, but I love my mom more than my dog.

“Fine.” I bite off the end of my words. “One day.”

Judica laughs. “This is rich.”

“You can go—”

“My birthday,” my mom says sharply. “Chancy, come try on your dress. It’s nearly time for the party.”

I follow her back into my room. She looks even worse than she did at breakfast. “Mom, are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look like—”

“I’m fine,” she says. “My twin daughters were hurling death threats at one another in the hallway, but otherwise, things are great.” Her face looks almost haggard, her lips compressed into a thin line. Judica poisons my dog, and I’m the one who has to suck it up to make peace. Typical.

“I’m sorry,” I say simply. And I am. Above all things, I never want to cause Mom pain.

She’s only asking for one day. I breathe in deeply through my mouth and out through my nose. I can give her that. Besides, her request probably saved my life. Not that I’ll ever admit that.

She waves at my bed. There’s a gown similar to hers, with the same silver overlay, but with silver cloth underneath instead of burgundy. “I wanted each of you, my identical angels, to reflect a part of me. Will you wear it?”

“I guess,” I say. “Judica’s already wearing hers.” I can’t seem to stop myself from sulking.

“Please don’t pout. I am very sorry about Cookie. Sorrier than you realize. What an awful two days for you.” Mom sits on the edge of my bed and puts her face in her hands. “I don’t know whether she killed him, but I know she goads you. She starts fight after fight, and I see her do that too, but can we pretend to be a happy family for one day? We can take things as they come after that.”

I nod. “Yes, I’ll let it go until tomorrow. I’m sorry for causing a scene.” I walk back to the door.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

I choke up. “I need to get Cookie, Mom. I can’t just leave her lying on the floor of the arena.”

“I’ll take care of that.” Mom stands. “We’ll do a service for her tomorrow when all this is over. I promise, little dove.” She lowers her voice. “And I’ll ask Job to do an autopsy to determine cause of death.”

Job is going to hate that, autopsying a dog. I look my mom in the eye and see that she understands. Duchess bumps my leg and I crouch down and sink my face into her shaggy white fur. The royal family mostly has dogs to taste our food, but we come to love them like family. Mom’s enormous Pyrenees will miss Cookie as much as I do. I turn away from my mom to head for my bathroom. “I’ll meet you in the ballroom at noon?”

Before I can escape, she pulls me toward her and into a hug. I’m still angry about Cookie, but it’s not my mom’s fault. When she finally lets me go, she smiles at me, but it’s not as stunning as usual. The circles under her eyes look worse, and there’s so much tension in her mouth. Even her skin looks almost... sallow. I’m doing this to her, Judica and me.

I squeeze her hand. “One long day to celebrate you, and then everyone goes home and we go back to normal.”

“Normal,” she says. “I’m not sure what that is anymore.”

“Me either,” I say, “but more than ever, I think going to live with Alora is my best plan.” The thought of leaving Mom behind stabs at my heart, but I shove it down. Staying here and dying by Judica’s sword would be worse than living apart from Mom for a while.

She sighs heavily and I worry she’s changing her mind.

“I’m still going, right? To New York?”

“Alora will be here soon,” she says. “We can discuss it then.”

“Wait, what does that mean?” I ask. “Are you rethinking it?”

“It’s been a busy few days. I need to read some of the prophecies and think about them all in context with what has happened.”

Prophecies? There’s more than one? I groan inwardly.

“I won’t make you promises I can’t keep. You reacted to the ring, and it’s not crystal clear what that means yet. Besides, there’s more going on than you know.”

“But if I train in New York and give Judica space—”

“I need some time to consider everything.”

“What did you want to talk to me about earlier?” I ask. “Can’t you just tell me now? I’m dying to know.”

She shakes her head. “It requires a longer conversation.” She touches the side of my face gently. “It has been a horrible, exciting, and scary twenty-four hours. I’m sorry about Lark and Lyssa and Cookie. I’m sorry you reacted to the ring, because that pulls you down a path opposite from the one you wanted. I’m sorry your sister hates you. I fear it’s my fault, and that I handled everything wrong, but we have time to make things right, and I promise I will.”

Mom leans forward and kisses my forehead. Then she slips out.

I rush to shower and style my hair, toweling off with moments to spare. I pick up the dress from my bed, startled when something heavy rolls out from under it. My old flute case falls to the floor.

I used it for years when I was learning melodic forms, but I haven’t looked at it in a decade or more. Who got it out? I pick it up and shove it back onto the far corner of the top shelf of my closet. I put on my dress and twirl once in front of my mirror.

“Look Cookie,” I say. “It’s perfect, right?”

Except, Cookie isn’t there. She never will be there for me again. I can’t sob into her fur when I’m sad. She’ll never again lick my hand. She can’t eat all the food I don’t want. She can’t curl up at the foot of my bed, or walk so close to my feet that I trip over her.

But it’s 11:57, and I don’t have time to lose it right now. I need to survive one last party, and after that, no matter what Mom says, I’m headed for New York to escape evian politics for at least a few weeks. I close my eyes and imagine that none of the misery of the last twenty-four hours ever happened. Lark’s safely in New York, and her mother’s with her. Cookie is safe in my room, hiding under my bed because the guests are making her nervous. And I’m mad at Judica as usual, but I have nothing in particular to be angry about.

Surprisingly, it works. My heart rate slows, and I reach calmly for my door knob, ready to head to my mom’s nine-hundredth birthday party. But before I can touch it, the knob’s already turning.