The Knaveheart's Curse by Adele Griffin Page B

and slipped through the room, gone before Maddy could offer her a late-night lemon-mint fizzie.

“If you want Susanality to be your friend, you gotta get friendlier yourself,” Hudson remarked as they headed for the kitchen, where Hudson prepared their fizzies.

Maddy scowled. She disliked taking friendship tips from her younger brother. She dragged the Old World recipe book from the top back of the refrigerator. “I think I’ve got the Lullaby transportation answer,” she decided. “You’re getting doubled.”

“Me?” Hudson wriggled. “Why?”

“Why not double your strength? The only reason Orville flew me across the water last week is because he’s not a weenie.”

“Orville is also double my height and weight,” said Hudson. “No recipe in that book can double me. Hey, let’s cross over to Lullaby by hot air balloon. It’s a quaint old form of transportation, and we’d land right on the lawn—Mads, what are you doing?”

“Concocting the Doubler. Sorry, bro. Balloons are pricey. Besides, you’ve got the wings—you’re going to have to suck it up, double up, and fly me over.” Chef Maddy was already pulling out ingredients for the juicer. Kale, parsnips, turnip, baby bok choy, red cabbage, and one large, violet beet all went into the pile.

“I hate ’snips,” Hudson commented sourly as he watched.

Maddy put a finger to her lips. “Shhh—I think I hear Lex.”

“You do? I don’t.” But Hudson rushed off, leaving Maddy alone to stir in the rest of the ingredients. Additions she knew her brother would not enjoy—such as chewable vitamins, two tablespoons of wheat germ, and a teaspoon of cod liver oil.

She dumped in a cup of blueberries to hide the taste, then added a shot of Tabasco for kick.

“‘Set to jell overnight,’” Maddy read. “Cool. Nothing to it.”

“Lexie’s fine—if you count being in a Knav-ish coma fine,” Hudson reported as he reentered the kitchen.

“We’ll get her back. Lexie’s too fruity to go Knave. Zelda picked a terrible heir to the bloodline.”

“Actually,” said Hudson quietly, “I think Lexie might be a great choice.” He cleared his throat. “Maddy, I think she’s a shifter.”

“Shifter?” Maddy looked up sharply. “What’s that?”

“Orville told me about it. A shifter has the power to take on the persona of other vampires and hybrids,” said Hudson. “Which is why, when Lexie is around Mom and Dad and us, she’s the fruity sweetiest. That’s how we want her to be.”

Maddy thought. “But when she ran up against the von Kriks, she helped de-poison them. Her anti-pureblood instincts weren’t on guard at all.” Maddy was still bothered to think about how her sister had helped those rotten Kriks recover from her garlic cookies.

“Exactly. Under Zelda’s influence, it’s been easy to transform Lex into a talented musician, which is what she’s always most wanted to be.” Hudson looked grim. “Just between us, I’m scared to defend Lex. Especially since a transformed Knave always slays her family to show that she’s cut the old ties.”

“Oh, that’s just an old Knave’s tale.” Maddy tried for nonchalance, though she feared what Hudson said was true. But she and Crud had to stay brave and stick to the plan. If they wanted to save Lex, they didn’t have a choice.

They decided to sleep on their roof that night. The temperature was perfect. Pigeons, doves, and bats sniffed out the Livingstone kids as their own kin and came to roost near them. Maddy loved it. She missed her coffin, that hunk of Old World oak where she’d dreamed away the sunlit hours. She’d loved being up all night, stargazing with the other nocturnals.

Soon the roof crowded with creatures. Maddy allowed a pair of doves to curl up in the crook of her arm. She fell asleep listening to her brother chattering and sharing leftover apples with the squirrels.

By dawn, Hudson had morphed into bat form and was hanging upside down between a pair of