Chapter 9
“Peter,” Yvette clung to his back. He had one arm firmly around her, but his body was already shifting.
“Go into the room.” He pointed to the changing room where she had just been. “Go. Hide.”
“But….” She didn't want to let go of him. They had only seconds to make a decision, and if they made a mistake, it would be end game.
“Go. I will protect you,” he promised her.
She ran, seeing no other choice. The changing room door wasn't particularly secure, and there was a half inch gap.
Yvette slammed the door, looking through the gap even as she slid the lock closed.
She had seen Peter in dragon form on television. Seeing it in person, though, was much different.
She gripped the lock, her hand trembling, as the magic swirled around him. He was a large dragon, almost as tall as his father. Somehow, although she didn't know anything of the dragon aging process, she knew that he was younger. His scales seemed shinier, his strength more abundant.
When Peter lunged at his father, she screamed. The two dragons were damaging everything around them; breaking the wall; rolling in the fire. They snapped at each other, tearing chunks of flesh and breathing fire.
She felt paralyzed with fear, watching although she wanted to turn away. After a few minutes of desperate fighting, something changed. The magic swirled again, and Peter became human again. And with him, his father.
Yvette could see that he looked like the brothers. He had the same eyes, although they were lined with wrinkles, the same crinkly nose and half smile.
“Is this what you want, Peter?” he said, in a strangled voice. “To kill your father here and now?”
“You are already dead!” Peter spat at him.
“SO ARE YOU!”
Peter fell back at the roar, in surprise. “Yes, I know,” he said. “But you will return to the Other before me.” He lunged at him again, this time aiming for his throat.
The magic swirled again, and before Peter could grasp his throat, he vanished.
“NO!” Peter screamed. Frantically, he moved left and right, but his father was gone. “No!”
Yvette coughed, and then coughed again. The smoke was getting thick, black and billowing. The ceiling was starting to fall in, chunks of plaster already hitting the floor. She doubled over, and each breath got less and less air.
She unlocked the door, but it was all that she could do before falling to her knees.
Peter was beside her in a moment, wrapping his arms around her.
“Here,” he said. “Here, I have you.”
“We have to get out,” Yvette managed. “I can't breathe.”
Peter looked around, frantically trying to plan a way out. If he transformed, he wasn't sure that he would recognize the need to rescue her. She was so fragile, and his dragon brain was still so confused.
“Just keep breathing,” he said, and plunged forward.
The entire building was up in flames when he got into the hallway. People were screaming and running, and Peter knew that some of them wouldn't survive.
Yvette choked again, trembling in his arms. This seemed like a dream–a dream that she would never get out of. Everything was hazy and terrible, and the whole world was going black.
She heard the screaming; she heard the plaster falling. “Peter,” she said softly. “Please don't let them die.” And then the world went black.
When Yvette awoke, she was sitting on the sidewalk outside the mall. There were fire trucks, police cars, and ambulances.
“I leave you for an hour and you burn the mall down?” Ariel was behind her in an instant. Yvette couldn't answer, her throat still thick with smoke. “I need a paramedic over here, help!”
“Jesus,” Nicholas was on the scene in a frantic run. “Where's Peter?”
“Inside. Get away from me and do some good,” Ariel said to her brother-in-law, referring to her carapace powers. The paramedics rushed over, already frantic from the other bodies that were strewn on the streets. People were dying, that much was clear.
“Ariel,” Yvette said, tears in her eyes. They put an oxygen mask over her and the next thing she knew, she woke up in the hospital.
Hospitals were a familiar place to Yvette, especially in the last few years. She felt comfort beneath the white sheets, and strangely relaxed by the beeping of the machines.
She had an oxygen mask on her face, and IVs in her arm. Armand was standing over her bed, his white lab coat looking a little bit rumpled and his eyes kind but tired. She coughed when she meant to get a word out, and he put his hand over hers.
“Just rest. Don't try to speak. You've had quite an ordeal.”
She looked around, looking for her phone, a clock, anything to indicate how long she had been out for.
Armand sensed it; many of his patients wanted the same thing.
“It's been two days since the fire,” he said. “You've been out, which I suspect was a result of your weakened state. But you're alright now.”
“Peter,” she managed, muffled through the oxygen mask.
“He's alright,” Armand said. “He helped quite a bit. A lot more people would have died if it wasn't for him and his brother. But before you see Peter–”
She sat up a bit more as Thomas came rushing into the room.
“Yvette,” Thomas wrapped his arms around her as carefully as he could to not dislodge the tubing. She stiffened at his touch, unexpectedly. She had spent so long missing him, and now that the moment had arrived, she felt odd hugging him. “Oh God, what have they done to you?”
“They didn't do anything to me,” she pulled down the mask, taking a deep breath and then coughing.
“Peter helped–”
“He also almost killed you,” Thomas growled. “And I'll kill him when I see him.”
“Thomas,” Armand snapped. “He is your king.”
“He is no king of mine.”
“Thomas, if you continue in this speech, I will not allow you in this room. Is that clear?” Armand set his jaw. “I do not agree with the destruction, nor do I agree with the death. But it was not the princes. The former king has returned.”
“It is because of the princes that she is in the hospital to begin with,” Thomas said. “Don't forget that.”
“Thomas, I'm alright,” Yvette leaned her head against his chest again, trying to stop her beating heart. But as soon as she had done that, Peter walked into the room.
Armand bowed, and Thomas growled. Yvette sat up, her eyes meeting his.
“Yvette,” Peter said. “I am glad to see you well.”
“She wouldn't be unwell without–”
“Leave,” Armand said to him.
“This world was much better when someone who knew what to do was in charge,” Thomas snarled, squeezing Yvette's hand. “Let me stay with her.”
“Thomas, please,” Yvette managed. “I'll talk to you soon.”
He glared at Peter, but reluctantly put a kiss on her head and left the room.
“Forgive me,” Armand said to Peter. “He knows not what he says.”
“I think he knows exactly what he says,” Peter replied. “I will speak to Yvette alone if she is well enough.”
“Of course,” Armand said. “Although just a few minutes would be best.”
“A few moments will be sufficient.” Peter sat at the end of her bed. Once alone, he met her eyes. “I'm so sorry,” he said to her.
“It's not your fault,” she said. “Your father clearly has an agenda in mind that is not compatible with life on Earth.”
“I wonder if he has lost his mind, in Other,” Peter replied.
“Is that possible?”
“Yes,” Peter said, his voice low. “Every day it is a struggle.”
They fell into silence, Yvette wanting nothing more than to hug him.
“Thomas is just being protective,” she said. “He's upset. He's always upset when I am unwell.”
“He has a right to be,” Peter said. “For you belong to him, do you not? And we ripped you from him.”
“I…,” Yvette wasn't sure what to say to that. She said nothing for a long moment, looking out the window. When she left, that was the case. But having spent so much time in the palace, her view was different. She wasn't afraid of Peter; she wasn't afraid of them as princes. He was lost, he was confused, and she knew that he had a good heart. He had shown her nothing but kindness, even from the first moment they met.
She couldn't deny that there was something between them. When their eyes met, it was like the Earth was shifting. It had never been like that with Thomas. There had been pity, and she had felt comforted by his strength. She thought that it was love. But now, she was starting to wonder how he could say such things.
“You should stay here,” Peter said. “We are a danger to you.”
“No,” her eyes jerked up. “No, you're not ready. There's still so much to do.”
“Yvette,” he gave her a kind look. “You are caring, but–”
“I can't stop now,” she said. “Really. Please don't make me go away.”
He smiled, placing a hand on her face.
“I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. And it almost did.”
“What are you going to do about your father? Where did he go?”
“We don't know,” Peter said. “But it is clear that he has values that are different from mine. The problem is–”
“His claim to the throne is about as strong as yours,” she said, picking up his train of thought. “You are both returned from the Other.”
“We are both dead,” Peter said, softly.
“Then this time is a gift,” she said. “And, maybe it will not be here forever. So we shall take advantage of it while we can. The time that all of us have is borrowed.”
He squeezed her hand, rising, but she pulled him back.
“Please don't leave without me,” she said. “I want to finish the job, even if it's the last thing I do.”
“I won't,” he said. “But your safety is foremost in my mind.”
She coughed again, but mid-cough she felt the magic flow into her. It was purer and stronger than what Armand had ever given her. The healing she received was almost to the point of cure, as it always was. He wasn't probing, he was simply fixing.
“Thank you,” she said, looking up at him.
“I wish I could do more,” he replied. “I don't know when this world got so complicated.”
“Someone once told me that the hardest thing to do in this world was live in it,” Yvette replied. “I believe that.”
“I'll leave you to rest,” he said. “I want you stronger if we do go back. Tomorrow morning, at the earliest.”
“Peter,” she called as he reached the door. “How many people died, in the mall?”
“In the mall? Four,” he said.
“And in the dress shop?” she asked, afraid of the answer.
“Everyone,” he met her eyes. “Everyone else.”
Yvette bit her lip, trying to stop the tears.
“You saved me,” she said, at last.
“Yes,” he answered, and left.
She was no longer just helping them in exchange for health care and for money. She was in the thick of their world now, and she wasn't sure there was any way out. She wasn't sure she wanted a way out.