And being built incredibly fast.
“The griffins can build roofs?” Celie couldn’t believe it.
The entire griffin flock was in the meadow, including Rufus and the normally fastidious Juliet, and they were helping the workers to build the shed. They carried lumber in their claws, flying it up to the top of the structure where the workers were perched. As Celie watched, mouth open, Rufus snatched up a bundle of shingles and flew them to a shirtless man straddling the center roof beam, who held out his arms to take them.
The man looked familiar.
“Is that Pogue?” Celie asked the sheep, but they only bleated in confusion.
Celie saw that Pogue was still as muscular as he’d been when he’d worked his father’s forge every day, before he’d become Bran’s assistant. She blushed and looked away. But then she saw something that only made her gape more. Dangling below Pogue was a large basket, and peering over the edge of the basket was Arrow, his sleek brown-gold head cocked in curiosity.
“Is that safe?” Celie asked the sheep once again.
“He cries if Pogue leaves him on the ground,” Bran answered her.
“Oh!” Celie jumped. “Don’t sneak up like that!”
“I didn’t sneak,” Bran said. “You were staring.” He nodded to a gaggle of village girls standing to one side, their faces tilted up to watch Pogue like a field of daisies following the sun. “You might want to be less obvious, if you don’t want to be lumped in with them.”
Celie’s cheeks turned so hot, she thought they would glow. “I was looking for you,” she said reproachfully. “And then I saw Arrow and got worried.
“No one told me you were already building the ship,” she added plaintively.
“We’re not, actually, this is just the shed,” Bran said.
“Still,” Celie said. “I would have liked to know.”
“I’m sorry,” Bran said. “I was going to tell you when we started on the ship. So far we’re only using lumber from our own forests, none of the things from the Castle.”
Celie was mollified by the apology in his voice. “All right,” she said. Then she remembered the reason she’d come running to the sheep meadow.
“Arkwright’s still in the Castle,” she blurted out.
“What?” Bran turned away from watching Lord and Lady Griffin, wings beating in unison, carry an enormous beam to the top of the shed. “No! We’ve searched, asked the Castle, and then searched again.” Bran shook his head. “I don’t know what happened to Maisy, or how he’s getting in to steal the food and blankets, but he’s not here now.”
“He’s in the passageways,” Celie insisted.
“How could he be in the passageways?” Bran said. “There are guards patrolling them now. Maids and footmen going up and down, not to mention—”
“The secret passageways!” She tried to keep from raising her voice, and mostly succeeded.
Rufus heard her, though, and flew to her. He squawked happily and butted her with his head, wanting to be petted and praised for his work. Celie petted him, but her words were for Bran.
“I know he’s there,” she said.
“The secret passageways,” Bran said slowly. “It’s true, I haven’t looked there.
“But there are no rooms, and the passageways are very narrow.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, but then he shook his head. “I can’t believe the Castle would hide Arkwright. It hates him too much for what he’s done.”
Bran was certainly right about that, as Celie knew only too well.
Centuries before, Arkwright had helped his uncle split the Castle’s Eye into two pieces, effectively crippling the powerful Castle. Half of the Eye and half of the Castle had been sent to Sleyne with Arkwright, who had proceeded to destroy any history of the Castle or the griffin riders who had once lived in it. Half of the Castle had remained in its original home, where the Hathelocke and Arkish people had fought over it so ferociously and so long that they’d nearly all died in the battle. Celie, Rolf, Lilah, Lulath, and Pogue had managed to find and replace the other half of the Eye, and now the Castle was whole, but it was still angry at Arkwright, which made it seem ludicrous that he might find any corner of the Castle in which he could hide.
“But he’s not in the Castle,” Celie said.
“You just said—”
“He’s in the secret passageways,” Celie said, cutting him off.
“I don’t understand.” Bran’s dark eyebrows were deeply furrowed.
“Well, you see, Bran,” Rolf said, walking up with his tunic over one shoulder. “Some of us enjoy being ogled by pretty girls. Though Pogue is making the competition steep for the rest of us, and my thumbs might be broken.” He wiggled his bruised-looking digits at Celie. “I was clearly not meant to be a carpenter.”
“That’s not what we’re talking about,” Celie said, still watching Bran to see if he caught on.
“Thank heavens,” Rolf said. “I thought your time had come,” he added in ominous tones.
“What?” Celie turned her attention to Rolf at last. “What are you talking about?”
“Yes, what?” Bran frowned even harder, making Rolf wilt a little.
“You know, Cel,” he said, refusing to be totally suppressed. “I told you one day you’d look at Pogue Parry and think: now there is the finest specimen of young manhood I’ve ever seen! And you gagged . . . but I thought maybe you were old enough to . . . I’m sorry, did I just interrupt something horrible and serious?” He looked anxiously from Celie to Bran and back again. “What’s happened?”
“Celie?” Bran said.
“The passageways weren’t built by the Builder,” Celie said. “They’re shaped wrong. They’re low and narrow. Some of the stone is different, and they never change.”
Bran’s face went completely white. “They’re Arkish,” he breathed.
“I think they added them when they were trying to take over the Castle,” Celie said, grabbing his sleeve to stress her point. “To sneak around—maybe that’s how they attacked the Hathelockes!”
“Fish guts,” Rolf said succinctly. “If they’re Arkish, then Arkwright could be hiding right next to Mother and Father’s bedchamber.”
Celie had a sudden memory of sitting in the solar with her mother and Lilah and hearing scratching at the walls. What if it hadn’t been mice? What if it had been Arkwright listening to them? She grabbed at Bran’s arm.
“He’s in the walls,” she said with terrible certainty.
“Put your shirt on and tell Sergeant Avery to meet me in the front hall,” Bran told Rolf. He settled Celie’s hand into the crook of his arm, pinning it there with his free hand as he hurried toward the Castle. Celie had to trot to keep up, and Rufus screeched in outrage at this treatment of his person. “And you’re coming with me,” Bran said to her. “The last thing we need is for you to go in there alone and get trapped in a secret passageway by Arkwright!”
“I won’t be alone,” Celie protested, shaking free of his grip. She was nearly running to keep up with her long-legged brother. “I’ll take Rufus with me!”
Chapter
10
“Are we ready?” Bran asked. There was a blue ball of light hovering over his shoulder and he was holding a sword, which Celie didn’t even know he owned.
Gathered in the front hall, nodding tensely at Bran’s question, were a dozen guards, Sergeant Avery, Rolf, and King Glower. They were all well armed, standing in groups of three. Each group had a wizard light with them, to illuminate the dark passages that ran between the main rooms of the Castle. Celie was standing to one side with her mother and sister, trying not to feel put out that she’d been told in no uncertain terms that she was not to join the search.
“I fit in the passages better than half those guards,” she said under her breath.
“How will they even raise their sword arms?” her mother agreed, much to her surprise. “This seems like a poor idea.”
“What should we do?” Lilah frette
d. “Imagine if that man has been spying on us! He could be anywhere in the Castle!” She knotted her fingers together, the knuckles showing white. “One of the passageways runs past my bedchamber,” she added in a near whisper.
Celie’s stomach plummeted. There was a trapdoor inside her very own room! It led down to the sewing room, and seeing it that morning had given her the idea that Arkwright might be hiding in the Castle walls. Bran hadn’t assigned anyone to check the trapdoor. Celie took a single step back, easing toward the corridor that led to her bedchamber.
“Don’t you dare,” her mother whispered. “I know about the hatch in your floor.”
“How do you—”
“That used to be my room when I was a girl,” her mother said. “I had a deal with the seamstresses: they wouldn’t tell anyone when I sneaked off, and I would bring them cake.”
“That’s so . . . Celie-like,” Lilah said.
“Hey!” Celie said, not sure if her sister had meant it as a compliment. “It’s just a trapdoor,” she went on. “There’s no tunnel. There’s nowhere for him to hide. I just want to lock it.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Queen Celina said. “But come with me. I have a special lock for you to use.”
The queen waved to the assembled guards. “Good luck to you all! Thank you for your service!” She swooped by King Glower and kissed his cheek. “Be careful,” she admonished him in a low voice. Then she continued on toward her solar, with Celie and Lilah at her heels.
In the days since Celie had last been in her mother’s solar, things had changed. The embroidery frames were gone, and there was a long table beneath the tall windows. The table held books, but also glass jars and some strange implements that looked like they’d come from Bran’s rooms.
“Mother,” Lilah gasped. “What have you been doing?”
“A little of this and that,” the queen said airily.
“Does Bran know?”
“Lilah,” their mother said. “I hardly need my own son’s permission to study magic! Both my parents were wizards, you know!”
“They were?” Celie dropped the brass mallet she’d picked up with a clatter. “Grandmother, too?”
“Yes, did you not know that?” Queen Celina looked at Celie in surprise.
Celie shook her head.
“My mother was a highly respected wizard,” the queen said, and her face grew sad. “She died when I was so young. I suppose I haven’t shared many memories with you because I have so few.”
“I knew she was a wizard,” Lilah said. “And that’s why I don’t like this.” She gestured to the table. “Put that down, Celie!”
Celie dropped the mallet again.
“Bran told me that Grandmother got into terrible trouble playing with magic,” Lilah said. “If you want to learn, you need to go the College of Wizardry and get proper instruction!”
“My mother went to the College of Wizardry,” Queen Celina said in the coldest voice Celie had ever heard her mother use with her children. Lilah took a step back. “And yet she still died . . . not playing with magic, but doing something that she cared about deeply.
“Spells go wrong,” their mother said after a long, uncomfortable pause. “Anyone with an ounce of magic knows and understands that, Delilah.” She drew a deep breath. “I am being careful, and I don’t need you to tell tales on me. This is important, and I know I have enough skill to handle this.” She held up a brass box with a knob on one side.
“What is it?” Celie asked.
“It’s a lock,” her mother said, her voice warming as she turned the contraption over in her hands, showing them all the sides. “A special kind of lock. If you put this on the trapdoor in your room, Celie, and turn the knob, it will lock it forever.”
“Forever? You can change the Castle forever?” Celie stared at the lock.
“I think so,” the queen said. “That is, if you’re right, and the trapdoor is something put in later, by the Arkish. I was working on a way to keep the griffins in the stable, should we need to confine them. I can get it to work on things like trunks and wardrobes, but it doesn’t work on any of the Castle doors.”
“Is the Castle too powerful?”
Her mother nodded. “Yes, it seems to be. And also, the Hathelocke magic that created the Castle is very different from the kind of magic I’m used to.
“I have a suspicion, since Arkwright was able to hide himself among the College wizards for so long, that Arkish magic is very similar to what we know.”
“So it might work on his magic?”
“Yes, exactly!”
“Maybe,” Lilah said, slowly stepping up to the table, “it’s not that Arkish magic is like College magic. Maybe it’s that the College of Wizardry learned their magic from Arkwright.”
“What?” Queen Celina gaped at her older daughter.
“The College was founded four hundred years ago,” Lilah said. “And Arkwright came to Sleyne with the Castle five hundred years ago, and has apparently worked with the College since the day it opened.”
“I never—it’s true that he—” the queen stammered. “Good grief. The magic in our world may have been created by that evil man!”
“Lilah, I think Bran was right,” Celie said after a moment of shock. “You do have a brain under all that hair.”
“Thank you,” Lilah said with asperity. “Now, can we be sure that these locks won’t explode or turn us all green?”
“It won’t explode,” Queen Celina said softly.
Lilah put her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Celie had seen her mother flinch when Lilah said “explode,” and now her mother’s face looked lined with pain. What had happened to her grandmother? No one ever talked about her. All Celie had ever heard was that she had died tragically when the queen was just a child.
“Do you . . . should we try it?” Celie asked, not sure she wanted to break into the mood that was filling the room.
“Yes, let’s,” the queen said, shaking herself a little and smiling at Celie. “It can’t hurt . . . I promise.”
Lady Griffin roused herself from the space beneath the table where she had been sleeping, and stretched luxuriously as they gathered up the lock and a few other things Celie’s mother said they might need. The queen of the griffins rubbed her head against the queen of Sleyne, and followed them out of the room.
“Has she bonded with you?” Lilah asked as they crossed the now-empty main hall to Celie’s rooms.
“In her own way, I suppose,” Queen Celina said, stroking the golden head bobbing beside her. “We’re not as close as you and Juliet, or Celie and Rufus, but it’s been an unexpected blessing.”
“She looks good,” Celie said. “Fat and happy.”
“Perhaps a bit too fat and happy,” Queen Celina said. “I hope I haven’t been spoiling her. Or perhaps the extra padding around her middle is more natural, now that they’re safe and have plenty of food.”
Once they were in Celie’s room, they had to move the old sofa that was over the trapdoor. Its clawed feet scraped loudly across the floor and Celie winced, but she doubted anyone but the three of them heard. They were all busy using her idea to search the passageways for Arkwright.
“Now let’s see what we’ve got here,” Queen Celina said.
She handed Celie the lock. Celie took it with careful hands, still worried about something exploding. It was surprisingly light. The queen knelt beside the wooden square in the floor of Celie’s bedchamber. It had a simple iron latch that was set into an indentation in the door so that a carpet could be laid flat over it. The queen turned the latch and Celie held her breath as her mother opened the door.
All three of them peered through the hole in the floor.
“Can I help you, Your Majesty?” The head seamstress stared up at them, a needle poised in one hand and the skirt of Celie’s new gown in the other. Her eyes were wide. The other seamstresses all let out little shrieks of surprise.
“No, I??
?m sorry,” Queen Celina called down cheerfully. “We are going to lock this trapdoor for good, and I just thought I would check it first.”
“Very well, Your Majesty,” said the head seamstress, completely unfazed.
“I didn’t know that was there,” one of the other women said. “How did I not know that was there?”
“Too much time looking down, not enough looking up,” the head seamstress said. “Which is surprising, considering how much time you waste when you should be sewing!”
The younger woman looked down at her work, cheeks reddening.
“Carry on, Your Majesty,” the head seamstress said.
“Thank you,” Queen Celina said.
They closed the trapdoor and Celie’s mother nodded to her. Celie gingerly set the lock over the latch. Queen Celina nodded again, and Celie turned the knob.
Nothing happened.
Then there was a click, and the trapdoor raised up a little. Celie sat back on her heels.
“Is that right?” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.
“I think so,” Queen Celina replied. She reached out to touch the lock.
The whole trapdoor moved.
“It’s not attached to the floor anymore,” Lilah said in surprise. “Is that supposed to happen?”
They all scooted back and then the queen tried to lift the lock off the wooden door, but the whole door came with it. The queen dropped it with a whoosh of breath.
“Heavy,” she remarked, then frowned.
“It’s gone!” Celie said.
“What do you mean?” Queen Celina prodded the lock again. It was still firmly attached to the trapdoor.
“Lift it up,” Celie said. “The whole thing! There’s nothing underneath!”
Her mother took hold of the lock, and Celie grabbed the hinges of the trapdoor and they raised it up. Underneath, there was only a smooth stone floor, with no sign of any opening. There wasn’t even a mark to show where the door had once attached to the floor.
“Was it supposed to do that?” Lilah said.
“Well, it’s certainly one way to close a door for good,” Queen Celina replied.