“A harpy,” a female voice said. “So, first dragons, now harpies? Harpies, in Beggar’s Hole, Maine.” I recognized that voice as readily as I recognized Theon: I’d been hearing Michelle’s dubious murmurs and pouts from childhood through adolescence into adulthood. Knowing we had precious little time to separate—knowing what joy she would take in separating us herself, tormenting us both together and apart, and that Theon would certainly be murdered, even if not by Michelle’s command—I threw myself from the alcove and came bustling from the fern-lined pillar, as if I’d been looking for Michelle all along. She was still at a distance, thankfully, approaching the alcove… and if she could maintain her focus on me, she wouldn’t notice Theon’s silhouette behind the drapery.
“Yes,” Lethe was answering, his eyes closed as though he had a throbbing headache. My heart went out to him; she could be charming at first, but the charm would wear off over time. You could only fake it for so long, and Michelle had never been that convincing of an actress. “Yes, there are dragons, and there are harpies. The harpies don’t live—”
“Nell?” Michelle shrilled, her eyes fixing onto me. Perfect. “What the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be—”
“I know, yes, I know,” I said, hurrying to catch the couple and maintain their eyes. For different reasons entirely, neither of them had any difficulty watching me. “I dropped one of the pans—after I finished cleaning it—and there’s a huge mess in the washroom. I came to let you know, so I can get some help cleaning it up, because—”
“Ugh,” Michelle groaned. “It’s always something with you. I’ll fix it in a minute, okay? We have an important meeting right now.”
Lethe glanced sideways at Michelle. “We have an important meeting? I have an important meeting, and we were in the middle of a conversation when it was announced. You made it very obvious that you wished to attend the conversation.”
“Because I’m your queen,” Michelle reminded Lethe stiffly. “I should be present at important meetings!”
“It has nothing to do with you,” Lethe murmured.
It seemed as if they’d forgotten me entirely—and blazed past Theon in the alcove, as well—though I continued to tag along with them. I wanted to hear what the harpy had to say, too.
Nell
The throne room was empty, with the exception of the large auburn and brown bird-woman I remembered from the cliff at the beach. Parnassia’s face was shrewd and humorless, and in spite of our agreement and our history together, the harpy mentioned nothing of it. I worried she would say something, but her eyes stayed on Lethe.
“King Lethe. When you were last seen by my sisters and myself, you were only a prince.” An icy smile formed on her lips. “Do you recall that meeting?” she asked.
Lethe glanced at me, nervous. “Er,” he said. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
I frowned. Interesting. I hadn’t known that Parnassia had struck a deal with the ice dragons.
“I’m Queen Michelle,” Michelle introduced herself, suddenly unsophisticated in her desperation to be recognized as an important figure at this meeting. She offered her hand, then awkwardly retracted it, noticing that Parnassia had nothing to offer but two withered, useless hands and a powerful set of wings folded over her back.
“We were very trusting in our acceptance of your offer,” Parnassia went on, ignoring Michelle. It gave me an odd sense of vindication. “You claimed that your mountaintops would be reserved for my sisters and myself. We would have free reign of the air, and no need to fear the ice dragons. And now, King Lethe, the harpies of Thundercliff would like to view the territory we have been promised, and begin to build.”
“And what territories of Maine will our people possess?” Michelle interjected.
Parnassia finally acknowledged Michelle. Her black eyes swung to behold the insolent queen. “Excuse me?” she snapped. “No territory of our land was ever discussed in the trade. King Lethe, I beg you to control your female, for she speaks out of turn.”
I was kind of amazed when Lethe turned to Michelle. “Control yourself, Michelle. You did not know the terms of my arrangement with the Thundercliff sisters. No territory of Maine was ever discussed. Parnassia is correct.”
But Michelle wouldn’t relent. She whirled to face Lethe, and her pout blossomed into a full, sullen lip. “If the harpies are getting a piece of Everwinter,” she argued, “which is partially mine, isn’t it?—then we should get a part of their land: Beggar’s Hole.”