Thursdays With the Crown Read online

  Fondly dedicated to

  Michelle Nagler and Caroline Abbey,

  Expert Griffin Trainers

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Acknowledgments

  A Note on the Author

  Also by Jessica Day George

  Chapter 1

  “You are not leaving me behind,” Celie repeated.

  Rolf and Lilah exchanged looks, and Celie could see her brother and sister preparing to side against her. She braced herself.

  “Someone needs to stay here with Pogue,” Lilah said in a wheedling voice.

  “But you could stay with Pogue,” Celie retorted. “You don’t want to get dirty hiking around the forest, do you?”

  She knew that she had Lilah there. Lilah was already upset that they’d had to sleep on the hard stone floor of this run-down hatching tower last night. They didn’t have any water for drinking, let alone washing, and Lilah was looking as mussed as anyone had ever seen her.

  Lilah ran her fingers through her hair, caught them on a snarl, and straightened. “I … I … Listen to me, Celie,” she said. “We don’t know what’s out there. We don’t know if we’re alone, or if there are people right outside this tower, and if those people are dangerous. We don’t know what animals are out there.”

  “You think that I don’t know that?” Celie looked at her sister in disbelief. Did Lilah think she was an infant? Not only that, this was the third time at least that they’d had this argument.

  Here they were, in the Glorious Arkower, the land where her beloved Castle had been built, and they wanted her to sit. And wait. And listen to Pogue snore. Her feet positively itched with the need to get out of this cramped tower and explore — but no, it was not allowed!

  Celie paced around the edges of the tower, which didn’t take long, while Rolf and Lilah watched her. They were both working up more reasons for her to stay behind while they explored; she could see the wheels turning in both their brains.

  It was true that someone needed to watch their friend Pogue. He had hit his head during the confusion that had brought them from Sleyne, which fortunately had been the only injury. They’d thought the Castle was trying to shake itself to pieces, or that there was a mighty storm caught in its walls, and then suddenly the tower that Celie, Pogue, Rolf, and her griffin Rufus were taking shelter in had been ripped free and brought here.

  Celie and Rolf had looked out of the wide arched windows, across an expanse of trees, and seen another tower, with Lilah and Prince Lulath waving at them frantically from the windows. Celie had flown Rufus across to collect them, and they’d all spent a long, cold night on the floor, with an icy wind blowing through the open window arches, carrying strange noises and scents with it. In the morning, Rolf had announced that he and Lilah alone would explore the surrounding forest while Celie kept an eye on Pogue, and Lulath looked for water.

  “Now Celie,” Rolf began, “you are the youngest, so it makes more sense.” He seemed pleased with this logic, but Celie was not.

  Celie honestly couldn’t believe that they were doing this to her. Celie was the one the Castle loved best. She was the one who had raised and trained a griffin. She was the one who had found the broken piece of the Eye and restored it to its rightful place in the Heart of the Castle, what her family had always called the holiday feasting hall. She’d hoped it would help the Castle, which had been acting strangely for months: adding new rooms, refusing to take away unused ones, even bringing a tower with a live griffin egg inside. But once the Eye was in place, the Castle had nearly flown to bits, and brought them to the Glorious Arkower, presumably to find the other piece of the Eye, which Celie had proposed the night before, and which they had all agreed was the right thing to do. And now she was the one being told to stay safe, sit quietly, and make sure that Pogue was still breathing.

  He snored again.

  He was breathing.

  The truth was that Celie was terrified of the Glorious Arkower. She’d never even been outside of Sleyne … not to Grath or Vhervhine or any of their neighboring countries, and now here she was in a whole new world! A world where she and her siblings and their friends were strangers, with no clue how to find food or water … or a way home. A world where something, some threat, had made the Castle gather up every last room, corridor, and stable left in the Glorious Arkower, and plop them down in Sleyne.

  What could threaten a castle? What could threaten the Castle?

  But when Celie was frightened of something, she liked to face it head-on. She did not like to sit in a cold stone room and worry, but that is exactly what they wanted her to do. And to cap it all off, when Lulath had gone searching for water, Rufus had gone with him. Her own griffin had left her behind.

  “I need to go with you,” Celie said to Rolf, trying to sound capable, and not whiny. “We need to find the missing piece of the Eye so we can go home and heal the Castle.”

  “We can look for it,” Lilah said immediately.

  “What if Lulath and Rufus have gotten into trouble?” Celie countered. “A young griffin, wandering around with … Lulath?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “There might be griffins everywhere here,” Lilah said. “It could be that they’ve found a village and are getting help.” Her face brightened as she hit on this idea. “Yes, that’s undoubtedly what’s happened.”

  “And if they were in trouble, I’m sure Rufus would be able to fly straight back here to you,” Rolf said. “They’re fine.”

  “Makes sense,” Pogue suddenly called out, stopping mid-snore. Then he rolled over and went back to sleep.

  Lilah and Celie exchanged worried looks over Pogue’s head, but Rolf shrugged.

  “Lulath said he’d do that,” Rolf reminded them.

  Lulath claimed that Pogue suffered from a cracked skull.

  “He is needing the sleep, but not too much, and the quiet, of that a lot,” Lulath had told them with his thick Grathian accent. “We must be waking him at that quarter of each hour, and watching to see that the breathing is clear. But of a certainty the swaying when standing and the sick of the stomach and hurting of head will soon be gone! And he is probably talking with strange words and perhaps sleeping while talking for a time, too.”

  That had been a great relief, as Lilah had been certain that Pogue was dying. Celie was relieved, too. She hadn’t thought that Pogue was dying, not really, but she had thought that his injuries might be permanent.

  Pogue let out another snore and Celie paced the tower again. It was a hatching tower, with just one circular room with a sloping floor and a trapdoor that led down a narrow staircase to a small door at the base of the tower. It had no furnishings and no coverings on the wide windows, but they were fortunate that, unlike the tower where Rufus had hatched, this one had a roof. The worst part about the tower was that it appeared to be dead: there was no friendly hum, no feeling of warmth coming from these stones, for all that this tower had been a part of the Castle in Sleyne barely a day before.

  Celie stopped pacing and stared out again, looking for Lulath and Rufus, but all she saw were trees. Strange trees, with very straight, slim trunks, branches so evenly placed that they looked man-made, and dark-green needles instead of leaves. Awa
y to the right there was something that might have been a lake or a plain, and beyond that, three sharply pointed mountains rose against a faintly purple sky. At the foot of the tower was a damaged expanse of stones that had probably been the rear courtyard of the Castle five hundred years ago, and there was a broken-down stable and the other hatching tower. It was all very horrible and bleak.

  In the distance was a haze of smoke that looked as though it might be from a largish village or even a town, but Rolf had deemed it too far away to reach. They would have to hack their way through miles of forest to get there, so they had decided that the two of them were going to strike out toward the lake and hope that there was a farm or house hidden in the forest closer to the ruins.

  And it seemed that by the two of them, Rolf meant himself and Lilah.

  Rolf looked at Celie. His face was stern, and he looked as he had a year ago, when he’d briefly been the king in their father’s place. Lilah folded her arms, looking very much like their mother.

  Celie sighed and sagged against the window frame.

  They both kissed her, then went down the trapdoor and out of the tower, leaving her alone with Pogue.

  Celie had longed all her life for a truly grand adventure, but now that she was having one she found it quite lacking. Lacking in food. Lacking in blankets. Lacking in adventure, really.

  After what she thought was about a quarter of an hour, but was probably much less, since time seemed to have slowed down, she woke Pogue. He sat up and talked to her for a while and she made him tell her his name and the names of all eight of his siblings, from his sister Jane Marie on down to baby Ava, to make sure his brain was working. Then she let him go back to sleep.

  And she went back to waiting by the window.

  She had almost dozed off herself, slumped on the broad windowsill, when she saw the other griffins.

  Griffins.

  Celie felt as though she’d been struck by lightning, and she could only gasp and stare as a griffin broke out of the trees away to the left, circled twice over the ruined courtyard, and then dived into the forest again. Celie screamed with excitement. She leaned out of the window, trying to catch sight of it again, when two smaller griffins burst out of the forest, chased by the first one she’d seen. The smaller griffins fled, screeching, while the larger one turned back and flew toward the ruins of the stable. It landed and went inside, and Celie nearly fell out of the window trying to see if there were more griffins waiting for it.

  More griffins?

  Her heart was racing. She gripped the stone windowsill until her joints ached, and she let out another scream. She had just seen three griffins! Three! She danced in place, stomping her feet on the stone floor. Pogue snored on while Celie jumped and clapped her hands.

  The emblem of Castle Glower was a tall tower with three griffins flying over it, but until this last year she (and everyone else in Sleyne) had thought that griffins were merely legends. Then her stuffed toy lion, Rufus, had turned into one and eaten horrible Prince Khelsh of Vhervhine, after he had put the Castle to sleep and tried to kill her family. Rufus the Stuffed-Lion Griffin had disappeared, and she had found Rufus the Real-Life Griffin’s egg some eight months later. Having seen two real griffins in her life, Celie considered herself to be fabulously lucky, particularly since both the griffins had, essentially, been for her.

  And now she’d seen three more.

  And one of the three was only a stone’s throw away from her tower, in the half-caved-in stables. Did it live there? Celie wondered how many griffins were left in the Glorious Arkower.

  Wizard Arkwright, who had come to the Castle to figure out why it was bringing the new rooms willy-nilly, had admitted that he was the one who had brought the Castle to Sleyne centuries before, because all the griffins and their riders were dying of a plague. Most of the riders who made it to Sleyne had died shortly after arriving, already sick themselves though they hadn’t known it, and all their griffins had died.

  But it appeared that Arkwright was wrong, or maybe he’d lied. The griffin in the stable was almost as large as a horse, and gleamed golden in the dim sunlight. The other two had been much smaller, and brown, but griffins all the same. Celie just had to get a closer look.

  “Pogue!”

  She jumped down from the window.

  “Pogue, wake up!” Celie shook his shoulder. “Wake up a moment.”

  “Huh? All right?” Pogue blinked at her.

  “I’m fine but I need to leave the tower,” Celie said.

  “No,” Pogue said, more alert. “We’re not leaving the tower.”

  He tried to sit up twice before finally succeeding, and Celie pushed him gently back down before he could stand. He wheezed and leaned his head back against the cold stone wall, his face gray.

  “I have to …” Celie stopped herself before she said, “see the griffins.” Instead she looked away in unfeigned embarrassment and said, “I have to, er, you know.”

  Pogue’s pale cheeks flushed.

  “All right, all right,” he said. “But hurry and don’t go far!” Then he blushed even more deeply. “I mean … be careful!”

  “I will,” she promised.

  And she would. Just as soon as she had a look around that stable.

  Chapter 2

  Celie almost flew down the spiral stairs to the bottom of the tower. Outside she looked around for Lulath and Rufus, and was both relieved and disappointed when she didn’t see them. She supposed it was better that Rufus not run into any hostile griffins, but she knew that Lulath would be up for the adventure of exploring the stable, and he was reassuringly tall and strong despite his fancy clothes.

  She hurried over the uneven stones of the ruined courtyard, which she thought would probably go at the back of the Castle, near the other griffin stable, if the Castle were whole. It made her head feel funny to try to imagine the Castle all here, put together correctly. That thought raised another question: Did the rooms grow and stretch and disappear when the Castle was in the Glorious Arkower the way they did in Sleyne? She would have to ask Wizard Arkwright, if they ever went home, and if he could be forced to tell the truth.

  When. When they went home.

  Celie stopped short of the stable, trying to peer inside without being seen. The sun was high overhead, but there was something smoky about the air here, although it didn’t smell like smoke and nothing was on fire that she could see. The sun was dark orange, and the haze in the sky made it impossible to see anything inside the stable. Celie took another step forward.

  A furious mass of golden feathers and fur exploded out of the dark doorway.

  Celie screamed as she was thrown to the rough stones. The griffin stood over her, one talon piercing the shoulder of her gown, pinning her to the ground. Celie continued to scream and so did the griffin. It opened its beak wide and leaned toward her face. She threw up her free hand to protect her eyes, and felt the smooth beak smack into her palm.

  But instead of biting off her hand — which it was large enough to do without blinking — the griffin sniffed her palm. Then it sniffed down her arm, tilting its head forward so that the round nostrils atop the beak could get closer to her skin. It sniffed her clothes, her hair, and her neck and face. It tickled but Celie was too terrified to laugh, so she just lay there and shook.

  The griffin finally raised its head just enough to look at her. Celie gazed back at the round golden eye, trying to appear friendly and not too terrified.

  The griffin suddenly screeched, which made Celie shriek in reply, but she got herself under control again after a moment. There was a scraping of talons from the stable and then another griffin joined them. Celie turned her head slightly to look at it. It was smaller than the one holding her down, and moved in a more graceful and less aggressive way that Celie found reassuring. Another screech, neither as loud nor as menacing as the first, and the smaller griffin edged forward and also sniffed Celie from head to toe.

  To Celie’s shock, the smaller griffin began t
o coo, and rubbed its head against her cheek. The feathers tickled her nose and Celie sneezed, which startled them all, but the larger griffin didn’t attack. Instead, it pulled its talon out of her gown and took a step back. It clacked its tongue at Celie, and when she didn’t move it nudged her with a talon until she sat up. Trying not to make any sudden moves, Celie stood and the larger griffin started butting her with its head, guiding her toward the stable, which was dark inside and potentially held other, less friendly griffins. As much as she wanted to see how these griffins lived, she was beginning to regret not dragging Pogue along with her.

  But the large griffin would not accept her muttered excuses and attempts to dodge away. It steered her through the doorway and into the stable. The light coming in through the holes in the roof showed Celie that it was identical to the griffin stable that had recently appeared in Sleyne, though in far worse repair. Also, this one was being lived in. The stall doors had been ripped away, and the stalls were filled with nests of bracken and grass. There was a neat pile of bones in one corner, and a pile of nutshells in another.

  Celie looked around their stable and then nodded and smiled broadly. “It’s very nice,” she said in a bright voice, speaking slowly. “Very nice indeed!”

  Did they understand Sleynth? Probably not, but hopefully they would interpret her expression and words as friendly.

  The smaller griffin fussed around her, batting her softly with upraised wings that had a slight cream-colored pattern on them. Celie tripped over a stick on the floor and fell into the side of one of the stalls. She took a step back to brace herself, and something hard under her foot rolled away. She almost fell right on top of the smaller, gold-and-cream griffin.

  “Oof! Sorry!” She caught hold of the side of the stall and pulled herself upright, then looked down to see what she had stepped on.

  It wasn’t a rock but an irregular chunk of crystal. It was probably clear, and had some green color to it, but it was so dirty that she couldn’t really tell. There was a clump of mud and a dingy feather stuck to one side. Celie picked it up, intending to toss it out a window into the forest. Lying on a rock was probably uncomfortable for whatever griffin slept in that stall. It was so dirty that her palms began to itch, and she wondered if Lulath would find enough water for drinking and washing. She didn’t want to think about what was coating that rock.