Spoiler! :
Over the past six years, whenever Astrid imagined the day she left Avery's Academy for Gifted Girls, in her mind it was a glorious sunny day. The house sat like a slab of butter in the middle of the woods, students and staff lined up on the steps to wave a fond, final farewell to the Final Years. She and Alicia rode side by side, moon and sun, Alicia's hair streaming behind them like a flag. It was their moment of triumph and victory, riding through the golden gates into whatever their own exciting destinies were to be.
She did not see it like this: hurried, harrowed, silent. Girls stuffing trunks full of petticoats and journals and perfume bottles. Pulling on cloaks and riding habits that hadn't seen open air since the previous winter as Madame Avery prepared to vanish forty of Samina's aristocratic children into the night. The makeshift plans to move to the Avery townhouse indefinitely. She hadn't imagined leaving nearly everything she owned behind, to be shipped off to the Hazel Peninsula at a later date.
She hadn't imagined arriving that Saturday afternoon, to find Genevieve's tiny hands curled around the gleaming bars of the gate, howling at the sky, about the news she'd heard from George. No one had seen the letter, it had shot into flames the moment Genevieve finished reading it, but she was insistent. "George said it was a dragon."
"George probably just imagined that," Antonia replied.
“Are you calling him a liar? Are you calling me a liar?”
And Astrid had certainly not imagined that evening, the cold trickles of dread running down her neck when fifteen year old Vivienne Rallstop left her room in a huff after lights-out and never came back.
She did not imagine, ever, leaving Avery's Academy in the middle of the the night, like a thief, the house a spectre of what it once was, a ghostly grey place in the dark bearing little semblance to their warm, honeyed home. They rode in caravan, doubling up and tripling up on what horses the Academy had. Sylvia Dovecote settled in front of Astrid, as well one of the littlest First Years who was so excited to ride on Astrid's new mare but was now so drowsy she threatened to slip from the saddle. Astrid righted her, and let a sleeping Sylvia lean back against her chest.
The horses were quiet, the girls sombre. Everyone was afraid.
The rain had cleared the magic from the trees. The forest was dark and murky, but from little light they made themselves.
--
“This is far from ideal.” Antonia wriggled and pushed against the curtain behind her, eliciting a yelp from the Fifth Year on the other side. Antonia grinned and shouted through the thin divide, "Stop trying to steal my space!"
The Avery townhouse was not, despite the headmistress's optimism, large enough to accommodate forty students and all of the staff. After rooms had been allocated to staff there was so little room that the Fourth, Fifth and Final Years were sent to make bedrolls in the attic. Old sheets hung from the rafters to separate their respective dormitories, and the space that the four of them were to share was a mess of mismatched bedding and blankets, pillows robbed from elsewhere in the house, Gift-lit candles in jars to prevent setting the whole tentlike setup on fire.
"I'm pretty sure that that's Constance Markin you just pushed," Astrid remarked, feeling her eyebrow jump a fraction of an inch. "She's six foot tall. No doubt she needs the room."
"Well, she should have considered this eventuality before she decided to," Antonia grunted and elbowed the Constance-shaped intrustion, "grow."
Astrid squeezed her eyes shut, shifting her hip on the floor board, begging sleep to claim her as the attic quietened. She wasn't tired, not at all, it was as if her mind was on fire - Alicia and Charlie and Vivienne all gone, Nathaniel in prison, and no idea what to do about any of it. She heard the muffled thumps of each of her friends lying down in turn to sleep, her eyelids turned a darker shade of black as Genevieve blew out the candle. She felt sleep caress her hair and her hands, and then a movement at her feet made her jump.
"We need a plan," Setter whispered, and all three of them sat up like they were on springs. Astrid relit the candle with a flick of her wrist.
The Fifth Years groaned.
"A plan for what?" Genevieve asked, eyes bright in the flickering half-light. Her hair had seemed so limp and lifeless, but now it was dancing again.
"To save our friends and clear Nathaniel's name," Setter said with a shrug.
"Yes, but how?" Astrid asked, shimmying forward over the mess of eiderdowns and blankets. "We have no idea where they are or what to do."
"We need to talk to George, first of all," Setter said.
"I can do that!" piped Genevieve.
Setter smiled, and hesitated for a moment. "And we need to talk to Laurel."
A collective groan echoed in the rafters.
"Sh," said a Fifth Year.
"Oh, shut up." Antonia thumped Constance Markin through the curtain. “Do we have to involve Laurel Sigrid?”
“It would be silly to discount half the eyewitnesses just because they’ve got stupid pig noses,” said Astrid.
“It’s not just her nose and you know it-“
“We need to talk to Laurel, and either way, we need to get to the palace,” insisted Setter.
"Why?"
"Because that's where all the information is about dragon magic."
"Apart from you," Astrid said, and felt half a smile twitch on her lips for what felt like the first time in days. "Alright, so we have a plan. But how do we get into the palace?"
“Duchess Race.” Setter gave a whimsical smile. “Don’t you think, now that you’re in the city, you should report to the King?”
--
“Madame, I think it would be more beneficial if I-“
“Do you, Astrid?” Madame Avery peered at her carefully over her tea cup, a calculated length of time to remind Astrid that Madame Avery was above matters such as Astrid’s thoughts. “I think it would be more beneficial for you to stay here and continue your classes with the other girls.”
“Like Alicia is doing?” Astrid snapped.
Madame Avery set her tea down.
Astrid drew herself up to her full considerable height, and put on her best duchess voice. “I apologise for my outburst. However, for my own piece of mind, and for the good of my people in the Hazel Peninsula as their duchess, and for the good of the realm as a peer, I pray that you give me leave today to attend our sovereign in the palace to discuss the distressing matter at hand."
The headmistress pursed her lips, but Astrid knew she could already see the truth. Madame Avery could deny a student her right to leave the Academy, but she could not deny a fully-fledged peer of the realm the chance to leave this cramped, noisy house to seek out more important matters.
“Very well. You may go to the Palace today. On foot.” The idea of walking through the city was meant to deter Astrid, but it didn’t.
She drew breath. The next part was bolder still. “And Madame, seeing as the Final Year class will be so diminished, with both mine and Alicia’s going… perhaps it would be better if the others came with me. As a learning exercise.”
A cocked eyebrow was the only sign of mild surprise. “And what classes do you intend on missing?”
“Duelling, which can hardly take place in the garden here,” Astrid said, glancing to where Madame Hearing hungrily devoured her breakfast while watching the students. “And Embroidery, but all of our work boxes are still in the Academy.”
Madame Avery sighed away the rest of her patience. “Fine. Go. Be back before dinner and for Goddess’s sake, don’t do anything stupid.”
Astrid curtseyed. “I would never, Madame.”
She signalled success to the other Final Years. Genevieve gave a triumphant punch at waist level. The girls were bunched in assorted groups across the carpet of the dining room, perching on windowsills, leant at jaunty angles on furniture not made to support little aristocrats.
The city was bustling too. The Avery townhouse was a tall, thin house near the canal, and barges floated past the back of it. Astrid inhaled fresh bread and smoked meat.
The streets of Cadoras hummed with scandal. They had their hoods up, but it was a poor disguise. Everything from their embroidered hems to their tall posture marked them as noblewomen, even on foot, and she couldn’t help but notice how the crowds hushed as they passed, as if they might disapprove of gossip. Astrid closed her eyes, just for a second, enjoying the heat and atmosphere.
“Prayers for the princess?”
She opened her eyes again. They were in a square, the market in full swing. On the edge of the gurgling fountain was a makeshift shrine, a yellow-haired doll within. A woman in her sixties was holding out a haphazard, blackish garland to her. Astrid grasped it in one hand, the flowers were dying and crinkled at her touch, but didn’t take it off the woman.
"Thank you," she said, digging in her pocket for a coin.
"I've another one here - a prayer for peace." She held up another garland, some flowers purple instead of white. Astrid considered it.
"But we are at peace," she said to the lady.
The woman screwed her eyes up at the iron grey sky. "Ain't you been praying? Ain't you been listening to the gods? Can't you smell it? There's war on the wind."
She scuttled off to serve her next customer, leaving Astrid feeling thoroughly unnerved.
They approached the palace gates - the silver trees looking as grey and dull as steel on the cloudy day. They were slightly ajar, and a figure that Astrid recognised was leaving through them. His limbs were so long and spidery it seemed unnatural for him to be moving this fast, like a puppet whose master wasn't paing attention. But as he came closer his big black eyes were unmistakeable, even though he was flushed and flustered in a way she had never seen him before.
"Rudy?" she asked.
His mouth dropped open and he came to a stop slowly, blinking in case she was an apparition. "Astrid."
"What's wrong?" She didn't waste time assuming there wasn't a problem.
"I - I went looking for you but they said you had left the Capital. I didn't expect-"
He broke off as the other Avery girls circled around them. Antonia had her hands on her hips in her most intimidating stance. "This is Rudy," she explained quickly. "My friend from the gardens. What is it, Rudy? Don't worry, these are just the girls, you can speak freely."
"I wouldn't bother you except I don't know what to do and maybe you can help," he said, words rushing out, escaping over the cliff's edge of his tongue before he knew it. "It's my little brother, Peter. He's gone."
A shiver slipped down Astrid’s spine, slick and serpentine. “He disappeared,” she said, as flat and uninquisitive as Rudy's own statements.
Rudy wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “My mother says he’s been missing since yesterday morning.”
"How?"
"I don't know. He just never came home. But I remembered how you had asked about the city children disappearing and I... I thought you should know. I couldn't find you but..." He met her eyes with his, big and wide and gentle.
"I'm on my way to speak to the King, and I will do everything I can to make sure someone looks into this for you."
She wanted to pull him into a hug, whisper into his feathery hair, but she was aware that even the Avery girls pausing on the street for so long had drawn a crowd. Instead, she reached forward and squeezed his hand.
"We're staying at the Avery townhouse, down near the canal. Go home to your family, and if I'm not in the palace, you'll find me there. I'll try to help you, Rudy."
He gave a messy, uneven bow. "Thank you, Your Grace."
She let him head on his way into the deepest alleyways of the city and turned back to the others.
Setter was shifting from foot to foot as if the ground were too hot. "Something's not right," she said.
They looked back at the looming gates, the magnificent palace beyond. Astrid didn't know why, but it made her shudder, as if it were a disease in the heart of Samina, spreading its branches like the silver tree on the gates.
She did not see it like this: hurried, harrowed, silent. Girls stuffing trunks full of petticoats and journals and perfume bottles. Pulling on cloaks and riding habits that hadn't seen open air since the previous winter as Madame Avery prepared to vanish forty of Samina's aristocratic children into the night. The makeshift plans to move to the Avery townhouse indefinitely. She hadn't imagined leaving nearly everything she owned behind, to be shipped off to the Hazel Peninsula at a later date.
She hadn't imagined arriving that Saturday afternoon, to find Genevieve's tiny hands curled around the gleaming bars of the gate, howling at the sky, about the news she'd heard from George. No one had seen the letter, it had shot into flames the moment Genevieve finished reading it, but she was insistent. "George said it was a dragon."
"George probably just imagined that," Antonia replied.
“Are you calling him a liar? Are you calling me a liar?”
And Astrid had certainly not imagined that evening, the cold trickles of dread running down her neck when fifteen year old Vivienne Rallstop left her room in a huff after lights-out and never came back.
She did not imagine, ever, leaving Avery's Academy in the middle of the the night, like a thief, the house a spectre of what it once was, a ghostly grey place in the dark bearing little semblance to their warm, honeyed home. They rode in caravan, doubling up and tripling up on what horses the Academy had. Sylvia Dovecote settled in front of Astrid, as well one of the littlest First Years who was so excited to ride on Astrid's new mare but was now so drowsy she threatened to slip from the saddle. Astrid righted her, and let a sleeping Sylvia lean back against her chest.
The horses were quiet, the girls sombre. Everyone was afraid.
The rain had cleared the magic from the trees. The forest was dark and murky, but from little light they made themselves.
--
“This is far from ideal.” Antonia wriggled and pushed against the curtain behind her, eliciting a yelp from the Fifth Year on the other side. Antonia grinned and shouted through the thin divide, "Stop trying to steal my space!"
The Avery townhouse was not, despite the headmistress's optimism, large enough to accommodate forty students and all of the staff. After rooms had been allocated to staff there was so little room that the Fourth, Fifth and Final Years were sent to make bedrolls in the attic. Old sheets hung from the rafters to separate their respective dormitories, and the space that the four of them were to share was a mess of mismatched bedding and blankets, pillows robbed from elsewhere in the house, Gift-lit candles in jars to prevent setting the whole tentlike setup on fire.
"I'm pretty sure that that's Constance Markin you just pushed," Astrid remarked, feeling her eyebrow jump a fraction of an inch. "She's six foot tall. No doubt she needs the room."
"Well, she should have considered this eventuality before she decided to," Antonia grunted and elbowed the Constance-shaped intrustion, "grow."
Astrid squeezed her eyes shut, shifting her hip on the floor board, begging sleep to claim her as the attic quietened. She wasn't tired, not at all, it was as if her mind was on fire - Alicia and Charlie and Vivienne all gone, Nathaniel in prison, and no idea what to do about any of it. She heard the muffled thumps of each of her friends lying down in turn to sleep, her eyelids turned a darker shade of black as Genevieve blew out the candle. She felt sleep caress her hair and her hands, and then a movement at her feet made her jump.
"We need a plan," Setter whispered, and all three of them sat up like they were on springs. Astrid relit the candle with a flick of her wrist.
The Fifth Years groaned.
"A plan for what?" Genevieve asked, eyes bright in the flickering half-light. Her hair had seemed so limp and lifeless, but now it was dancing again.
"To save our friends and clear Nathaniel's name," Setter said with a shrug.
"Yes, but how?" Astrid asked, shimmying forward over the mess of eiderdowns and blankets. "We have no idea where they are or what to do."
"We need to talk to George, first of all," Setter said.
"I can do that!" piped Genevieve.
Setter smiled, and hesitated for a moment. "And we need to talk to Laurel."
A collective groan echoed in the rafters.
"Sh," said a Fifth Year.
"Oh, shut up." Antonia thumped Constance Markin through the curtain. “Do we have to involve Laurel Sigrid?”
“It would be silly to discount half the eyewitnesses just because they’ve got stupid pig noses,” said Astrid.
“It’s not just her nose and you know it-“
“We need to talk to Laurel, and either way, we need to get to the palace,” insisted Setter.
"Why?"
"Because that's where all the information is about dragon magic."
"Apart from you," Astrid said, and felt half a smile twitch on her lips for what felt like the first time in days. "Alright, so we have a plan. But how do we get into the palace?"
“Duchess Race.” Setter gave a whimsical smile. “Don’t you think, now that you’re in the city, you should report to the King?”
--
“Madame, I think it would be more beneficial if I-“
“Do you, Astrid?” Madame Avery peered at her carefully over her tea cup, a calculated length of time to remind Astrid that Madame Avery was above matters such as Astrid’s thoughts. “I think it would be more beneficial for you to stay here and continue your classes with the other girls.”
“Like Alicia is doing?” Astrid snapped.
Madame Avery set her tea down.
Astrid drew herself up to her full considerable height, and put on her best duchess voice. “I apologise for my outburst. However, for my own piece of mind, and for the good of my people in the Hazel Peninsula as their duchess, and for the good of the realm as a peer, I pray that you give me leave today to attend our sovereign in the palace to discuss the distressing matter at hand."
The headmistress pursed her lips, but Astrid knew she could already see the truth. Madame Avery could deny a student her right to leave the Academy, but she could not deny a fully-fledged peer of the realm the chance to leave this cramped, noisy house to seek out more important matters.
“Very well. You may go to the Palace today. On foot.” The idea of walking through the city was meant to deter Astrid, but it didn’t.
She drew breath. The next part was bolder still. “And Madame, seeing as the Final Year class will be so diminished, with both mine and Alicia’s going… perhaps it would be better if the others came with me. As a learning exercise.”
A cocked eyebrow was the only sign of mild surprise. “And what classes do you intend on missing?”
“Duelling, which can hardly take place in the garden here,” Astrid said, glancing to where Madame Hearing hungrily devoured her breakfast while watching the students. “And Embroidery, but all of our work boxes are still in the Academy.”
Madame Avery sighed away the rest of her patience. “Fine. Go. Be back before dinner and for Goddess’s sake, don’t do anything stupid.”
Astrid curtseyed. “I would never, Madame.”
She signalled success to the other Final Years. Genevieve gave a triumphant punch at waist level. The girls were bunched in assorted groups across the carpet of the dining room, perching on windowsills, leant at jaunty angles on furniture not made to support little aristocrats.
The city was bustling too. The Avery townhouse was a tall, thin house near the canal, and barges floated past the back of it. Astrid inhaled fresh bread and smoked meat.
The streets of Cadoras hummed with scandal. They had their hoods up, but it was a poor disguise. Everything from their embroidered hems to their tall posture marked them as noblewomen, even on foot, and she couldn’t help but notice how the crowds hushed as they passed, as if they might disapprove of gossip. Astrid closed her eyes, just for a second, enjoying the heat and atmosphere.
“Prayers for the princess?”
She opened her eyes again. They were in a square, the market in full swing. On the edge of the gurgling fountain was a makeshift shrine, a yellow-haired doll within. A woman in her sixties was holding out a haphazard, blackish garland to her. Astrid grasped it in one hand, the flowers were dying and crinkled at her touch, but didn’t take it off the woman.
"Thank you," she said, digging in her pocket for a coin.
"I've another one here - a prayer for peace." She held up another garland, some flowers purple instead of white. Astrid considered it.
"But we are at peace," she said to the lady.
The woman screwed her eyes up at the iron grey sky. "Ain't you been praying? Ain't you been listening to the gods? Can't you smell it? There's war on the wind."
She scuttled off to serve her next customer, leaving Astrid feeling thoroughly unnerved.
They approached the palace gates - the silver trees looking as grey and dull as steel on the cloudy day. They were slightly ajar, and a figure that Astrid recognised was leaving through them. His limbs were so long and spidery it seemed unnatural for him to be moving this fast, like a puppet whose master wasn't paing attention. But as he came closer his big black eyes were unmistakeable, even though he was flushed and flustered in a way she had never seen him before.
"Rudy?" she asked.
His mouth dropped open and he came to a stop slowly, blinking in case she was an apparition. "Astrid."
"What's wrong?" She didn't waste time assuming there wasn't a problem.
"I - I went looking for you but they said you had left the Capital. I didn't expect-"
He broke off as the other Avery girls circled around them. Antonia had her hands on her hips in her most intimidating stance. "This is Rudy," she explained quickly. "My friend from the gardens. What is it, Rudy? Don't worry, these are just the girls, you can speak freely."
"I wouldn't bother you except I don't know what to do and maybe you can help," he said, words rushing out, escaping over the cliff's edge of his tongue before he knew it. "It's my little brother, Peter. He's gone."
A shiver slipped down Astrid’s spine, slick and serpentine. “He disappeared,” she said, as flat and uninquisitive as Rudy's own statements.
Rudy wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “My mother says he’s been missing since yesterday morning.”
"How?"
"I don't know. He just never came home. But I remembered how you had asked about the city children disappearing and I... I thought you should know. I couldn't find you but..." He met her eyes with his, big and wide and gentle.
"I'm on my way to speak to the King, and I will do everything I can to make sure someone looks into this for you."
She wanted to pull him into a hug, whisper into his feathery hair, but she was aware that even the Avery girls pausing on the street for so long had drawn a crowd. Instead, she reached forward and squeezed his hand.
"We're staying at the Avery townhouse, down near the canal. Go home to your family, and if I'm not in the palace, you'll find me there. I'll try to help you, Rudy."
He gave a messy, uneven bow. "Thank you, Your Grace."
She let him head on his way into the deepest alleyways of the city and turned back to the others.
Setter was shifting from foot to foot as if the ground were too hot. "Something's not right," she said.
They looked back at the looming gates, the magnificent palace beyond. Astrid didn't know why, but it made her shudder, as if it were a disease in the heart of Samina, spreading its branches like the silver tree on the gates.
(and rightly so) But I love the ending somehow because it's like building up to something absolutely epic and badass and I'm so ready for it. I can't wait for more <3
oo Charlie <3 poor him, he is a little bit of fool despite Lambert's wishes, but only in the best way possible. 
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