"But your father is the Warden," he said slowly.
"Whatever that means." She scowled.
He shook his head. "I wish I could remember you, Claudia. You, Outside, all of it." He looked up. "What if I'm not really Giles? That picture ... I don't look like that. I'm not that boy."
"You were once." Her voice was stubborn; she squirmed to face him, the silk rustling. "Look, all I want is not to marry Caspar. Once you're rescued, once you're free, then our engagement ... well, it doesn't have to happen, that's all. Attia was wrong; it's not just about me being selfish." She smiled wryly. "Where is she?"
"Asleep. I think."
"She's fond of you."
He shrugged. "We rescued her. She's grateful."
"Is that what you call it?" She stared ahead at nothing. "Do people love each other in Incarceron, Finn?"
"If they do, I haven't seen anything of it." But then he thought of the Maestra, and felt ashamed. There was an awkward silence. Claudia could hear the maids chattering in the next chamber; could see beyond Finn a small room with a frosty window, through which glimmered a dim, artificial twilight.
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And there was a smell. As she realized, she breathed in sharply, so that he looked at her. A musty, unpleasant smell, metallic and sour, air that was trapped and recycled endlessly. She scrambled to her knees. "I can smell the Prison!"
He stared. "There is no smell. Besides, how--"
"I don't know, but I can!"
She jumped up, ran out of his sight, came back with a tiny glass bottle that she uncorked and sprayed lightly into the sunlight.
Minute drops shimmered in dust.
And Finn cried out, because the smell of it was rich and strong and it sliced into his memory like a knife; he clasped his hands over his mouth and breathed it again and again, closing his eyes, forcing himself to think.
Roses. A garden of yellow roses.
A knife in the cake and he was pushing down, cutting, and it was easy and he was laughing. Crumbs on his fingers. The sweet taste.
"Finn? Finn!" Claudia's voice swayed him back from endless distance. The dryness was in his mouth, the warning prickle crawling in his skin. He shuddered, forced himself to be calm, breathe slower, let the sweat cool his forehead.
She was close to him. "If you can smell it, the drops must be traveling to you, mustn't they? Perhaps you can touch me now. Try, Finn."
Her hand was close. He put his own around it, closed his fingers.
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They passed through hers and there was nothing, not a warmth, not a sensation. He sat back, and they were silent.
Finally he said, "I have to get out of here, Claudia."
"And you will." She knelt up, her face fierce. "I swear to you, I won't give up. If I have to go to my father and beg him on my knees, I'll do it." She turned. "Alys is calling. Wait for me.
The circle went dark.
He sat huddled there till he was stiff and the room was unbearably lonely; then he got up, shoved the Key into his coat, and went out, running down the steps into the library, where Gildas was pacing irritably forward and back, Blaize watching him across a table spread with food. When he saw Finn, the thin Sapient stood.
"Our last meal together," he said, spreading a hand.
Suspicious, Finn eyed him. "Then what?"
"Then I take you all to a safe place and let you resume your journey."
"Where's Keiro?" Gildas snapped.
"I don't know. So, you're just letting us go?"
Blaize looked at him, his gray eyes calm. "Of course. My aim was only ever to help you. Gildas has persuaded me that you need to travel on."
"And the Key?"
"I must do without it."
Attia was sitting at the table, her hands clasped together.
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Catching Finn's eye, she shrugged slightly. Blaize rose. "I will leave you to make your plans. Enjoy your meal."
In the silence after he was gone Finn said, "We misjudged him."
"I still think he's dangerous. If he's a Sapient, why doesn't he cure that pox he has?"
"What do you know of the Sapienti, ignorant girl?" Gildas growled.
Attia chewed her fingernail, then as Finn reached out for an apple, snatched it first, and bit it. "I taste your food," she said indistinctly. "Remember?"
He was angry. "I'm not the Winglord. You're not my slave."
"No, Finn." She leaned across the table. "I'm your friend. That means a lot more."
Gildas sat down. "Any news from Claudia?"
"They failed. The gate led nowhere."
"As I thought." The old man nodded heavily. "The girl is clever, but we must expect no help from them. We must follow Sapphique alone. Now, there is a story that tells how ..."
His hand reached to the fruit, but Finn grabbed it. His eyes were fixed on Attia; she half rose, pale, and suddenly choking, the apple stalk dropping from her fingers. As he jerked forward and caught her she crumpled, her fingers tearing at her throat.
"The apple," she gasped. "It's burning me!"
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26
***
You chose rashly. I've warned you before.
She is far too clever and you underestimate the Sapient.
--Queen Sia to the Warden; private letter
***
"It's poisoned!" Finn clambered over the table and grabbed her; she choked, clutching his arms. "Do something!" Gildas shoved him aside. "Get my bag of medicines. Hurry!"
It took him precious seconds to find it, and by the time he got back Gildas had Attia lying on her side, writhing in pain. The Sapient grabbed the bag and tore through it, then pulled the cap off a small vial and held it to her lips. Attia struggled.
"She's choking," Finn muttered, but Gildas only swore, forcing it on her so that she drank it and coughed and convulsed.
Then, with a horrible racking sound she was sick.
"Good," Gildas said quietly. "That's it." He held her tight, his quick fingers feeling her pulse, the clammy skin of her forehead. She was sick again, and then slumped back, her face white and mottled.
"Is it out? Is she all right?"
But Gildas was still frowning. "Too cold," he muttered. "Get
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a blanket." Then, "Close the door and guard it. If Blaize comes, keep him out."
"Why would he...?"
"The Key, fool boy. He wants the Key. Who else would have done this?"
Attia moaned. She was shivering now, a strange blueness on her lips and under her eyes. He obeyed, slamming the heavy door.
"Is it out of her?"
"I don't know. I don't think so. It might have entered the bloodstream almost immediately."
Finn stared at him in dismay. Gildas knew about poisons; the women of the Comitatus had been experts, and Gildas had not been above learning from them.
"What else can we do?"
"Nothing."
The door shuddered; it hit Finn on the shoulder and he turned, drawing the sword with one fierce slash. Keiro stood still
"What's ...?" His quick eyes took in the scene. He said,
"Poison?"
"Some corrosive." Gildas watched the girl retching and squirming. He stood slowly, resigned. "There is nothing I can do."
"There has to be!" Finn shoved him aside. "I could have eaten that! It could have been me!" He knelt down next to her, trying to lift her, make her easier, but her mutters of pain
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made him stop. He felt angry and helpless. "We have to do something!"
Gildas crouched by him. His harsh words cut through the moans. "It's acidic, Finn. Her internal system may be already burned, her lips, her throat. It will be over very soon."
Finn looked at Keiro.
"We go," his brother said. "Right now. I've found where he keeps the ship."
"Not without her."
"She's dying." Gildas forced him to look. "Nothing can be done. It would take a miracle and I don't have one."
&
nbsp; "So we save ourselves?"
"That's what she'd want."
They had hold of him, but he shrugged them off and knelt by her. She was still and seemed to be barely breathing, the faded bruises clear in her skin. He had seen death, he was used to death, but his whole soul revolted against this, and the shame he had felt at the Maestra's betrayal came back and swept over him like heat, as if it would overwhelm him. He choked back words, knew tears were filling his eyes.
If it would take a miracle, Attia would get one.
He leaped up and turned to Keiro, grabbing at his hands. "A ring. Give me another of the rings."
"Now wait a minute." Keiro jerked back.
"Give it to me!" His voice was a rasp; he raised the sword. "Don't make me use this, Keiro. You'll still have one left."
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Keiro was calm. His blue eyes gave one glance at Attia as she curled in agony. Then he stared back. "You think it will work?"
"I don't know! But we can try."
"She's a girl. She's no one."
"One each, you said. I'm giving her mine."
"You've had yours already."
For a moment they faced each other, Gildas watching. Then Keiro tugged one of the rings over his knuckles and looked down at it. Wordless, he threw it at Finn.
Finn caught it, dropped the sword, and grabbed Attia's fingers, pushing the ring on; it was far too big for her, so he held it there, praying under his breath, to Sapphique, to the man whose life was in the ring, to anyone. Gildas crouched beside him, deeply cynical.
"Nothing's happening. What should happen?"
The Sapient scowled. "This is superstition. You yourself scorned it."
"Her breathing. It's slowing."
Gildas felt her pulse, touched the dirty scars where the chains had been. "Finn. Accept it. There's no ..." He stopped. His fingers tightened, felt again.
"What? What--"
"I thought... The pulse seems stronger ..."
Keiro said, "Then pick her up! Bring her. But let's go!"
Finn threw him the sword, crouched, and picked Attia up.
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She was so light, he could carry her easily, though her head lolled against him. Keiro already had the door open and was looking out. "This way. Keep quiet."
He led them out.
They ran up a dusty winding stair to a trapdoor; Keiro flung it back and hauled himself into darkness, dragging Gildas quickly after him. "The girl."
Finn passed her up. Then he looked back.
In the stairwell a strange hum seemed to ripple the air. It rose ominously toward him and he climbed hastily, scrambling up and slamming the trapdoor down. Keiro was wrestling with a grid on the wall, Gildas grasping it with his knotted hands.
Attia's eyes flickered, then opened.
Finn stared. "You should be dead."
She shook her head, speechless.
The grid came off the wall with a rattling crash; behind it he saw a great dark hall, and in the center, tethered to the floor by an iron cable, the silver ship, floating free. They ran, Finn with Attia's arm over his shoulder, tiny figures over the smooth gray floor, vulnerable and exposed, like mice under the wide stare of an owl, because in the roof above them a great screen lit, and as Finn stared up it showed him an eye. Not the tiny red Eyes he knew, but a human eye, gray-irised, magnified enormously, as if it stared into a powerful microscope.
Then the ripple in the air came through the floor and threw
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them all off their feet, a Prisonquake that made the thin needle of the Sapient's tower vibrate to its top.
Keiro rolled and leaped up. "Over here."
A shimmering rope ladder hung down. Gildas grasped it and began to climb, swaying awkwardly, though Keiro held the end firmly.
Finn said, "Can you get up there?"
"I think so." Attia pushed hair from her face. She was still deathly pale, but the blueness was ebbing. She seemed to be able to breathe.
He looked down at her finger.
The ring was shrunken. A thin brittle hoop, it fractured as she grasped the rope; tiny fragments fell unnoticed. Finn touched one with his foot. It looked like bone. Ancient, dried bone.
Behind them, the trapdoor clanged open. Finn whirled; he felt Keiro hand him back the sword and draw his own.
Together, they faced the dark square of blackness.
***
"AND SO everything is ready for tomorrow." The Queen placed the last of the papers on the red leather desk and sat back, putting her fingertips together. "The Warden has been so generous. Such a dowry, Claudia. Whole estates, a coffer of jewels, twelve black horses. He must love you very much."
Her nails were painted with gold. It was probably real,
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Claudia thought. She picked up one of the deeds and glanced over it, but all she was aware of was Caspar, striding up and down on the creaking wooden floor.
Queen Sia looked around. "Caspar. Be quiet."
"I'm bored rigid."
"Then go riding, dear. Or badger-baiting, or whatever it is you do."
He turned. "Right. Good idea. See you, Claudia."
The Queen raised a perfect eyebrow. "Hardly the way the Heir speaks to his fiancée, my lord."
Halfway to the door he stopped and came back. "Protocol is for the serfs, Mother. Not us."
"Protocol keeps us in power, Caspar. Don't forget that."
He grinned and made a low and elaborate bow to Claudia, then kissed her hand. "See you at the altar, Claudia." She stood and curtsied coldly.
"Right. Now I'm off."
He slammed the door and they could hear the thud of his boots down the corridor.
The Queen leaned across the table. "Fm so glad we have this little time alone, Claudia, because I have something to say. I know you won't mind it, my dear."
Claudia tried not to frown, but her lips tightened. She wanted to get away, find Jared. They had so little time!
"I have changed my mind. I have asked Master Jared to leave the Court."
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"No!"
It was said before she could stop herself.
"Yes, dear. After the wedding, he will return to the Academy."
"You have no right..." Claudia was on her feet.
"I have every right." The Queen's smile was sweet and deadly. She leaned forward. "Let us understand each other, Claudia. There is only one Queen here. I will teach you, but I will not tolerate any rival. And you and I need to understand this, because we are alike, Claudia. Men are weak; even your father can be ruled, but you have been brought up to be my successor. Wait your time. You can learn a lot from me." She leaned back, her fingers tapping the papers. "Sit down, my dear."
There was steely threat in the words. Claudia sat slowly. "Jared is my friend."
"From now on, I will be your friend. I have many spies, Claudia. They tell me much. It really will be for the best."
She stretched out and pulled the bell; a servant came in instantly, in powdered wig and livery. "Tell the Warden I await him."
When he had gone she opened a box of sweetmeats and took a moment to select one, then offered them to Claudia with a smile.
Numb, Claudia shook her head. She felt as if she had picked up a pretty flower and found it rotting away inside, crawling with maggots. She realized she had never seriously thought of Sia as the danger. Her father had always been the one to fear. Now she wondered how wrong she was.
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Sia watched her, her red lips in a small smile. She wiped them with a lace-edged kerchief. And as the doors were flung open, she leaned back in the chair and dangled her arm over the side. "My dear Warden. What kept you?"
He was flushed.
Claudia noticed it at once, through the whirl of her dismay. He never hurried, yet now his hair was just a little askew, his dark coat unbuttoned at the top.
He bowed gravely, but his voice had an edge of breathlessness. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Something that required my attention."
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***
NOTHING CAME through the trapdoor.
Finn said, "Get up the ladder."
As Keiro turned, the floor rippled again. Finn stared at it. The quake lifted the flagstones as if a wave of water roared under them. Before he had rime to move, the whole world shifted. He fell crashing against the floor, then was rolling downhill, down a slope that should not be there. Slamming against a pillar he gasped, pain shooting down his side.
The hall was tilting.
With sickening certainty he thought that the Sapient's tower was falling, that it had been fractured at its spindly base. Then the rope ladder brushed him and he grabbed it. Keiro was already on board, leaning over the silver timbers of the deck. Finn scrambled up; as soon as he could reach, they linked hands.
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"I've got him. GO!"
The ship rose. With a howl of fear Finn slid onto the deck; the whole contraption swung and rocked and then it drifted, ropes snapping one by one below it.
There was an opening in the tower wall ahead, the wide shelf where Blaize had landed the craft. But as Gildas hauled with all his wiry strength to spin the spoked wheel, the ship jerked and they all fell, rubble cascading from above onto the deck and sails.
"Something's holding us down!" he roared.
Keiro hung over the side. "God! There's an anchor!"
He clambered back. "There must be a winch. Come on!"
They opened a hatch and scrambled down into the darkness under the deck. Thuds of falling brickwork crashed overhead.
They found a maze of walkways and galleys . Running down and flinging the doors open, Finn saw each cabin was empty; there were no stores, no cargo, no crew. Before he had time to think about it, Keiro yelled from the darkness below.
In the lowest deck it was dark. A circular capstan filled the space; Keiro was jamming the bar into place. "Help me."
Together, they pushed. Nothing moved; the mechanism was stiff, the anchor chain heavy.
Again they heaved, Finn feeling his back muscles crack, and slowly, with a long reluctant groan, the capstan creaked into motion.
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Finn gritted his teeth and heaved again, sweat breaking out on his face; beside him he heard Keiro gasp and grunt.
Then another body was there. Attia, still pale, laboring on the bar next to him.
"What... good ... are you?" Keiro growled.