older than Marianne, Robin, in Beatrice’s judgment, was just as “uncivilized,” so Robin could presumably take care of himself.
“Never,” said Marianne with finality.
“Fine,” said Neville, making sure the door was shut, “To begin with, we aren’t your parents, thank the heavens.”
Marianne let this sink in. Thank the heavens truly, she thought.
“Your father was a commander in my regiment during the war. Your mother and he were sent on a very dangerous mission to eliminate a powerful wizard. Fearing for your safety, they left you and your brother with us for what they pledged would be a short period of time.” Neville bared his impatience that this burden had extended to fifteen years. “I suppose they must have died, because they never returned for you. Or maybe they were just glad to be rid of you. Either way, it doesn’t matter because as of tonight you’ll be out of our hair.” Neville had delivered this news without even a trace of sympathy. He started to leave.
“Wait,” said Marianne. “Did my parents—well, is the dragonfly ball from them?”
Neville and Beatrice were halfway out the door. “Yes, they forced a vow from us that we’d deliver that little knickknack to you if you were ever to leave us. And we couldn’t give it to you fast enough. I’ll be glad if this is our last sight of you,” declared Neville with a grunt, closing the door.
“You won’t be the only one,” Marianne said as the brass lock fell into place.
Chapter the Fifth
The soft, breezy wings of dusk whirred across the stifled landscape. Marianne had been sitting, immobile, on her bed, contemplating the future and the past. She’d heard the cicadas begin their twilight concert, the carriages arriving for the wedding, and the clanking of dishes below her. Half an hour ago, one of the serving girls had brought up Marianne’s wedding dress and wished her “much bliss.” Marianne had scarcely turned her head to acknowledge the gesture before deciding that this was rude behavior and giving the girl half a crown for her trouble of lugging the monstrosity up the stairs. Marianne had tentatively lifted one gigantic, puffy, beaded sleeve before letting it fall and returning to her reflective state. So my parents are dead, she thought, picking up the dragonfly ball. Robin’s my real brother. I have one family member and all I’ve seen is his hair. Maybe he’ll come tonight.
Marianne looked at the sphere in her hand and lifted it to stare into the insect’s infinite eyes. Her vision blurred. She saw her wedding, with burning candles and ladies mincing about in restrictive gowns. She foresaw castle life, with heated arguments and frigid loneliness. She crumpled on her bed. “I can’t do this to either of us,” she lamented. Marianne’s window was open, and a waft of air rustled the perfumed roses. Marianne got up from the bed and allowed the evening to tickle her eyelashes. “I’ll run away,” she declared, and a calm smile crept to her lips.
Quieting the chorus of objections aroused by her conscience, Marianne wrapped some clothes in a sturdy shawl and inserted a favorite comb. She desperately wanted to take Famous Fairy Flummoxes, a compendium of legends chronicling the escapades of magical folk, but the thought of lugging the enormous tome gave her pause, and she placed it back on the shelf. Marianne also realized the need for money, but staring at her coin purse, her cheeks burned at the thought of taking anything more than a crown from Beatrice and Neville for her new life ahead. Gently, she slipped the glass ball into her pocket. Taking up a quill, she wrote a hasty note explaining that she had not been kidnapped and that Cassandra was to receive her few possessions.
Her door was now bolted as well as locked, so Marianne went to the window. Glancing down, she saw Neville’s and Beatrice’s heads passing below. Appealing as the thought was, Marianne abstained from hurling anything on them. Behind them a hooded figure gestured animatedly. Those crazy guests, thought Marianne, watching closely as they rounded the corner. Probably drunk already.
Now the opportunity was so ripe that it was almost dripping sweet nectar. Nobody was around; Marianne could easily let herself down the wall, snare a horse, and be well on her way before anyone detected that the bride-to-be was missing.
Determined, she stepped onto the ledge. The ground below plummeted. Goodness, it’s never been that far away before, thought Marianne, wiping her brow. Still, if she concentrated, she felt certain—
“Mummy!!! Daddy!!! Marianne’s trying to kill herself!!” Cassandra’s shrill voice fractured the tranquility of the evening with a sharp stab. “Hurry, she’s going to jump!!”
“No! Cassandra, please hush!” Marianne tried to shout and whisper at the same time. “I’m not trying to kill myself. I’m not going to . . . AAAHHH!” Marianne lost her footing as she tried to silence Cassandra. Her hand barely grasped the open shutter, which creaked forebodingly. By this time, Cassandra’s squeals had drawn an audience, which seemed to be growing exponentially as they watched Marianne dangle helplessly.
“Marianne! Don’t be afraid! I’m coming up to help you!” Brantford’s shout came from the crowd. Marianne nodded to him. From her perspective, she saw two black dots break away from the crowd and speed toward the manor’s entrance.
My dream has been crushed by a five-year-old who forgets to put on her shoes, thought Marianne glumly. I’ll be married and I’ll never, ever know anything exciting in life. Just then, the top hinge of the shutter squeaked and detached, swinging Marianne pendulum-like a hundred feet above the earth. Clinging tighter to the rotting wood, Marianne heard the remaining hinge groan. Inside, Brantford tried various keys to open her room. She heard jangling and cursing as each key failed. She felt her glass ball roll out of her pocket and drop toward the ground. Below, there was a clamor coming from the crowd. They know I’m done for. The final hinge broke, and Marianne felt a tingling awareness as her room’s windowsill, with its clinging roses, and the lunging Lord Brantford’s frightened image grew smaller and smaller. I hope it won’t hurt, thought Marianne as the dizzying purple sky filled her eyes.
“Uff!” grunted Marianne. The ground came faster than I’d expected! Hey! Why aren’t I dead? And why does the ground feel scaly? To her amazement, she saw that she had landed atop a gigantic dragon in full flight. Soaring upward, she smiled at Brantford’s disbelieving face. As they flew forward Marianne felt a dip in the dragon’s flight as they passed her room. A shadow had jumped from her window and was clinging desperately to the dragon’s whipping tail. “Don’t be afraid, Lord Brantford, it’s perfectly safe,” she called. But as she said that, the dragon gave a shake to its tail and propelled a yelling man forward onto its back, next to Marianne.
“Have no fear. I’m here to bail you out, Marianne,” he said with conviction, crouching uneasily on the banking dragon.
He removed his hood, and in the dying sunlight Marianne could see pale skin and tousled, black hair. Could it possibly be . . . “Robin!”
Chapter the Sixth
“I must admit, Marianne, there is no better way to travel,” said Robin, grinning broadly as he lay on his back. Above them, luminescent stars and silver clouds moved silently in a timeless ballet with the bright, full moon. “By the way, where do you suppose we are headed?” asked Robin, propping himself up on one hand.
Marianne shrugged. “I haven’t the slightest idea, and I really don’t care. All I know is that I’ve been blessed with good company,” she said.
“Did you even bring anything?” Robin asked, sitting up. “I’m not all that materialistic, but money has this annoying tendency to be important
