Day Fifty-Three
Dear Diary,
The topiaries are healed, even the ones at the school greenhouse. The blight is gone. Lazare and Lotti have literally self-imploded. Poppa and Muti are back to sleeping on the kitchen table on piddles of their own spit. Bilge and the sprites have cleaned up the citadel.
There’s only one big thing left to do.
Visit Father.
And do I lose my badass chuck card if I drag Dare along for emotional support? I don’t think so.
It’s midnight on the nose when Dare and I step into the pocket realm where my father rests. My little llama buddy prances over to say hello. She’s decidedly icy toward Dare, lifting her pink chin in his direction as if to say, no winter elves here.
I don’t blame her, especially after what Reiver pulled.
We walk over to King Tristan. He lies
