Princess Juniper of the Anju Read online

  Also by Ammi-Joan Paquette:

  Princess Juniper of the Hourglass

  PHILOMEL BOOKS

  an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

  375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014

  Copyright © 2016 by Ammi-Joan Paquette.

  Lower Continent map © 2015 by Dave Stevenson.

  Hourglass Mountains map and Anju Village map © 2016 by Dave Stevenson.

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  Philomel Books is a registered trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

  eBook ISBN 978-0-698-19092-4

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Paquette, Ammi-Joan, author.

  Title: Princess Juniper of the Anju / Ammi-Joan Paquette.

  Description: New York, NY : Philomel Books, [2016] | Series: Princess Juniper

  Summary: “Princess Juniper competes to win the leadership of the Anju tribe and rescue her home of Torr from foreign invaders”—Provided by publisher.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2015029571 | ISBN 9780399171529 (hardback)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Princesses—Fiction. | Kings, queens, rulers, etc.—Fiction. | Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Royalty. | JUVENILE FICTION / Action & Adventure / General. | JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / Friendship.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.P2119 Po 2016 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015029571

  Edited by Jill Santopolo

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Jacket art © 2015 by Erwin Madrid

  Cover design by Kristin Smith

  Version_1

  Contents

  Title Page

  Also by Ammi-Joan Paquette

  Queen’s Basin Map

  Copyright

  Dedication

  The Settlers of Queen’s Basin

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Hourglass Mountains Map

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Anju Village Map

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  For my dad:

  too far away, but always near at heart

  The Settlers of Queen’s Basin:

  Brief Character Sketches by Princess Juniper

  Juniper Torrence—Queen: Three weeks ago, my father gifted me a little valley kingdom in the heart of the Hourglass Mountains, which I could rule myself for the entire summer. We have named our country Queen’s Basin, and we run it entirely free of adults. Without a doubt, my best Nameday gift ever!

  Erick Dufrayne—Chief Adviser: This bookish, brave boy-of-all-trades has become my best friend in the world. (Don’t tell my Comportment Master, for he’d surely disapprove of me “consorting with commoners”!)

  Alta Mavenham—Chief Guard: A baker’s daughter who has achieved her lifelong dream of becoming a soldier . . . and she’s one of the most skillful I’ve ever seen.

  Tippy Larson—Personal Maid / Girl-About-the-Basin: Our youngest settler has become the indispensable sidekick (and sometime jester) we never knew we needed. I can’t imagine the Basin without her!

  Paul Perigor—Groundskeeper: Away from his father’s strict soldierly eye, he has finally been able to indulge his love for all green and growing things, and a young crop of vegetables is currently being coaxed from the fertile soil of the North Bank.

  Leena Ogilvy—Head Cook: This girl is a whiz with a cookpot—she and her helpers make sure we’re all fed delicious meals every day. I don’t know what we’d do without her.

  Toby Dell—Animal Supervisor: A third-assistant groomsman back at the palace, here he has taken full charge of our chickens, goats, and horses (the ones not stolen), making sure their every need is tended to promptly and with tender care.

  Roddy Rodin: His talent for craft and construction apparently has no limit. From bridge handrails to apartment doors to building an entire Beauty Chamber—this boy is the master architect of Queen’s Basin, and that’s a fact.

  Sussi Dell: The youngest sister of Toby, she divides her time between helping Leena, Toby, and Paul. This shy, quiet girl has that lovely gift of seeing a need you didn’t know you had and filling it a split second before you were going to ask.

  Filbert Terrafirm: Our tallest, strongest member, this boy lends out the gift of his brute force wherever and whenever it’s needed. You’d be surprised how often that is!

  Jessamyn Ceward: Don’t even get me started. If it’s not about flowers, frills, and leisure reading of a summer afternoon, this noble-born girl has no time to partake. I’m still seeking a way to help make her a productive member of the settlement.

  Cyril Lefarge: My snobbish bully of a cousin (also two years older than me, blast his wispy whiskers!) tried to steal the throne of Queen’s Basin away from me. He nearly succeeded, too, imprisoning me along with Alta and Erick. But we outwitted him, and now he’s the one locked up. Next task: figuring out what to do with him.

  Root Bartley: Cyril’s close friend and crony, and one-time henchman. But when it came to the showdown, Root chose Queen’s Basin over his school ties, and helped us in Cyril’s overthrow. Now that he’s out from my cousin’s shadow, I’ve been delighted to find what an interesting and clever person he is.

  Oona Dell: Poor Oona. The middle Dell sibling’s defining trait over the past weeks has been her all-consuming (and unreturned) crush on Cyril, which led to her choosing his side in the final battle. Now they’re locked up together, for all the good it may do her. (I have yet to see him speak a word to her directly, the poor dear.)

  1

  MY DARLING DAUGHTER:

  As I write this, your party has just left the palace.

  You know that our dealings with Monsia have been tenuous in recent decades, and reports of their activities have been increasingly difficult to obtain. Everything I have told you tonight is true: The raiding party at the gate is small, and I am confident we will repel them with ease.

  And yet. Something in me is uneasy.

  You will forgive me, I hope, for seizing this chance to swiftly send you and your subjects—this representation of the youth of Torr—as far from the fighting as possible. No other living person knows the location of the Basin. It appears on no maps. You will all be safe there for as long as is needed. I have taken the liberty of adding my own cart to yours, supplemented with further provisions, along with some
items from the palace coffers and from our cultural stores which begged safekeeping.

  I cannot say why I feel this need, and there is no particular event that demands this caution. You have often heard me say that as king I feel some connection with the land I rule, and if that is the case, then perhaps something in the wind or the sky or the call of the birds tells me that everything is not as it should be.

  I am likely growing soft in my declining years. The moment I finish this letter, I will write another, dashing off the bright, happy notice that the invaders are put to rout and all is well. I will line both scrolls up on my desk. And I am certain that within a few hours I will return and toss this missive into the fire, while the good news flies to you on quickest of wings.

  But for the moment, I will indulge my old man’s worry and say: If you are reading this letter, time has passed and the worst has happened. I cannot think how, but the palace has been overrun. I implore you, do not do anything rash. Do not send a reply by return messenger, lest it be intercepted. Most importantly, stay where you are! I will find a way to come for you, but by no means must any of you leave the safety of the Basin until then.

  Do I have your promise?

  All my love,

  Your father

  Juniper finished reading the king’s letter aloud and looked at the group gathered in front of her.

  The morning sun was half risen over Queen’s Basin, the little mountain kingdom they’d built with their own hands, bathing the surroundings in its comforting honey-sketch glow. The wooden posts of the dining area were twisted with bluevine and half-wilted wildflowers from last night’s party, and more than one face still showed the pillow imprints of the night’s sleep. But as Juniper’s last words faded away, every eye was fixed on her, every face fully alert.

  “So that’s it,” she said, trying to keep her voice from wobbling. However many times she’d read this letter, it still tore her up inside to think of her father penning those words while the Monsian army battered the outer gates of the castle. “Now you know everything I know. King Regis sent us this letter by messenger’s flight two whole weeks ago. Every day since then, I’ve waited and scanned the skies for a wing from the palace—Erick and I both have—but there’s been nothing.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence.

  “Are we in danger, then?” Sussi asked at last, in a quavery voice.

  “We’re in absolutely no danger, hidden away here as we are,” Juniper said firmly. “No one but my father knows this place even exists.”

  The group exhaled, which prompted Leena to pass around the pot of goat’s-milk porridge for second helpings. As the slurping started back up, Roddy asked around a mouthful, “What’re our options, then?”

  “Yes,” said Root. “What are we going to do next?”

  It was a good question. For her part, Juniper felt torn. When she’d first received the letter, she’d been consumed with trying to figure out what they should do about it—or what they even could do. Her grief and fear for her father stormed in her chest like a living thing. The only way to keep from losing herself to worry was to force her mind away from things she could do nothing about, and to keep as busy as she could with what was close to hand. Then had come her bullying cousin Cyril’s challenge to her rule, and after that she’d been so busy getting out of that jail cell and planning a devious party and reclaiming her throne that it had been a lot easier to lock her worries away into that safe space in her mind and not think about them at all. Now Queen’s Basin was returned to her, and Cyril was soundly defeated.

  Now the bigger problems were back.

  Juniper looked around the circle. With Cyril—and Oona, the lone traitor who had stuck by him—off in a temporary holding cave, the group was smaller than ever. She had just eleven subjects here, none of them older than fifteen.

  Every one of them was looking to her for direction.

  That was the thing about being queen. You had to know things. Didn’t you?

  Juniper remembered something her father had said in one of his endless Political Discourse lectures, a trick he used when he was out of ideas but couldn’t afford to show it. People need strong direction from their ruler, he’d said. But the direction doesn’t always have to come from you alone. A wise leader will use every tool available, brawn and brain alike.

  “What are our options?” she repeated now, trying for a calm and collected tone. “That’s a very good question. I’d like to turn this around for a minute. What should we do next? Does anybody have any thoughts? Ideas?”

  Silence pooled out from her question, a silence broken only by the scraping of spoons on pewter dishes.

  Juniper sighed. She looked over at Erick, who sat pondering a piece of parchment. He had the air of a dried corn kernel just about to pop. Ah! “Chief Adviser Erick Dufrayne?” she said encouragingly. Erick had gotten a lot bolder since arriving in Queen’s Basin, but speaking up in a group might never be his top skill.

  Sure enough, Erick’s first look was one of undisguised panic. But then he blinked and refocused on the papers on his lap. He cleared his throat. “It isn’t much. Only, I’ve isolated the main areas that need attention right now. To start us off, as it were.”

  “Perfect!” Juniper beamed. “Do tell.”

  “All right, then. So here they are. One: the messenger. Two: the invasion of Torr. Three: Cyril.” Erick paused.

  On the far edge of the group, Jessamyn shook herself out of a sitting sleep. “What about the stolen horses? Shouldn’t they be on our list of concerns?” Her voice was as petulant as always, but an oddly sharp note in it snagged Juniper’s attention.

  “The horses, yes!” cried Tippy, quivering on the edge of her stone. “We must send out scouts to find our plundered beasts.”

  “Hmm, good,” Erick agreed, scribbling on his list. “That is an important issue to deal with.”

  “Yet no one has given any concern for it up until now,” Jessamyn countered. “Despite how much time has passed since the incident. I can’t see why this has not been made a greater priority.” A split second later, she shoved Root and shrieked, “Get your muddy boots away from my feet, you great oaf! These are my finest slippers—and freshly polished, too!”

  Juniper blinked. For just a moment, Jessamyn’s voice had sounded strangely . . . earnest. But there was no way; it had to be a trick of Juniper’s sleepy mind. “Let’s step back and look at the big picture,” she said to the group. “What do we know for certain about all the events of the last few weeks?”

  “Stealing our horses was the first attack on our camp,” said Alta briskly. “And that’s the one we know Cyril wasn’t involved with. Everything that followed—the destruction of the dining area and kitchen, stealing the milk and eggs, and putting everything to waste—that was all led by him.”

  Red-faced, Root scuffed at the dirt with his boot, evidently wishing he could forget his role in the destructive pranks.

  “The theft of the horses took place at the very start of our time in the Basin,” Juniper mused. “So this enemy is aggressive, strikes fast and hard—”

  “And is greedy!” snapped Leena. “Taking the very horses from a pack of settlers, and youngsters, no less? That’s a low blow, I say.”

  “So why’d they stop, then?” asked Alta, opening and closing her sword hand in an apparently unconscious gesture. “Why take our horses and nothing else? They’ve never even come back, so far as we can tell.”

  “My question exactly,” said Juniper. “Since then—there’s been nothing. Not a mutter nor muster. So . . . could something have scared them off?”

  “Our guard duty, maybe?” ventured Sussi.

  After the attacks, they’d started up a strict guard rotation, headed by Alta, but Juniper wasn’t so green as to think that alone could have warded off any intended attack. “I don’t think so,” she said, with an apologetic look at Alta.
“But this is what we need to think through now. Are we still being threatened? Was it just a random attack, done in passing as the aggressors moved on elsewhere? Or is there some reason they have been lying low all this time? Could they be waiting on something before they return for more trouble?”

  “Is the worst still to come, you mean,” said Jessamyn dryly. She leaned back in her seat, fanning herself extravagantly with a lace-trimmed fan. But behind the bustle of finery, her gaze was steely and sharp-eyed, cut through with barely masked concern.

  Juniper again noted this shift in character, but too much was going on for her to have any hope of interpreting it. In any case, Jessamyn’s statement quenched the last spark from the morning meal. Erick shuffled his parchments and clasped his hands on top of the stack. Every eye was fixed on Juniper, every face filled with silent questions. The back of her neck felt hot as a griddle.

  “So,” Juniper stammered. “Er, those are the questions relating to our unknown attackers. But as Erick pointed out, that is just one of the problems we face. The bigger mess—by far—is the situation back home. And figuring out what we should do to help our country.”

  “We’ve got to head back, do our part to liberate Torr. I think that’s clear! Why wouldn’t we?” Alta challenged.

  “I can think of several reasons,” said Paul reasonably. “Not least of which is that we know nothing about the situation at the castle.We’d be walking straight into the enemy’s hands, and that’s a fact. What good could come of that?”

  “With so many of our horses taken,” said Filbert, “do we even have enough left for us all to ride out?”

  “Nine are gone. Five remain,” said Alta. “Not everyone would be able to ride, but we can pack the rest into a wagon. We’ll need it for food and supplies in any case.”

  “So you propose that we jig it back to Torr in a gift basket, the better to doff ourselves directly into the enemy’s hands?” Jessamyn scoffed.

  “Do you have a better idea?” Juniper asked, turning toward the other girl. It startled her to ask this question seriously, given all she’d seen of Jessamyn over the past weeks. But one thing Juniper had learned from her endless hours hearing petitions in the throne room back in Torr: Human nature could always surprise you. Just when you thought you knew a person inside out, she might go and unfold herself into someone completely new.