The Wrong Side of Magic by Janette Rallison

out?”
    â€œIt’s all true,” she said, still frowning at the sign. “When King Vaygran took the throne, he decreed that war was unlawful. No one disagreed with that. No one wanted to support war. He declared that all weapons except his own were illegal and had his soldiers gather up the rest.”
    â€œOh,” Hudson said. He could already tell this story wouldn’t end well.
    â€œKing Vaygran’s next decree outlawed poverty. No one argued with that, either. Maybe because they didn’t have weapons anymore. Since poverty was illegal, the poor were rounded up and sent away.”
    â€œAnd unity?” Hudson asked, with a sick feeling running through him.
    Charlotte turned away from the sign and strode down the path again. “He decreed that the country must be unified, which basically means everyone has to agree with him. Anyone else is breeding disunity.”
    â€œNo one stands up to him?”
    She shook her head. “Some people actually think the king has given them peace, prosperity, and unity.”
    â€œWhat about the people who don’t? Why don’t they do something?”
    Charlotte let out a grunt, and her speed picked up with her anger. “The Land of Scholars tried.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œNow it’s called the Land of Desolation.”
    They reached the edge of the river. Lights along the top of Grammaria’s walls illuminated its crenellated outline and the towers that rose up at the corners.
    â€œThe drawbridge has already been raised,” Charlotte said, “so you’ll need to take a ferry over.”
    On the ride through the forest, when Charlotte had taken a break from singing, she’d given him instructions about what to do once he got inside. He would make his way to the castle, walk across the courtyard, then go to a walled garden on the left side of the castle. A guard stood at the garden’s doorway collecting an entrance fee of one silver coin. People came from all over the kingdom to visit the garden and sample the fruit from the compliment trees there.
    Hudson was supposed to ignore the trees. Very often, after someone tried one piece of fruit, they wanted another, and another, until they stayed in the garden for hours—days even—listening to compliments. “It’s always flattering to find out that the trees think well of you,” Charlotte had said, “but keep in mind that trees think well of everybody. Trees aren’t that discerning.”
    Magical statues were spread throughout the garden, each one in the shape of a different animal. If a person laid a gold coin near the animal, he could ask it a question, and it would answer.
    Many people asked their questions of the owl because he was wise. Others chose the wolf because wolves, living in packs as they did, understood social issues. The deer was a favorite, too. She knew answers to questions about grace and beauty. Mostly, though, people asked their questions to the lion. He was the most powerful animal and sat regally in the center of the garden.
    â€œDon’t ask the lion,” Charlotte told him. “Most of the time he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but he always thinks he’s right anyway. And if he doesn’t know the answer, he just makes up something that sounds good.”
    â€œThe lion is lying,” Hudson said, committing this piece of information to memory.
    â€œYou want to find a tiny statue of a bee. She’s near the lion’s tail—so small most people don’t notice her. If anyone knows where Princess Nomira is, the bee will, and she’ll tell you the truth.”
    This seemed like a lot of trust to put in an insect. “Why is the bee smarter than the deer, owl, wolf, or lion?”
    â€œBees aren’t showy,” Charlotte said. “They go everywhere, getting their jobs done, without anyone really paying attention to them. My father says bees are like