“You think so?”
“I know you won’t put your servants’ lives at risk on the word of some jailbird. I know you, Claudia. Now come out and let’s talk. We can sort this out.”
Claudia stared at him. She shivered in the cool wind.
A few drops of rain struck her face. She said, “He spared your life.”
“Because he knows I’m his Prince. So do you.”
For a desperate moment she almost doubted what Caspar had told her.
And with her instinct for weakness, Sia said, “I do hope you aren’t waiting for Master Jared, Claudia.”
Claudia’s head shot up. “Why? Where is he?”
Sia rose and shrugged her small shoulders. “At the Academy, I believe. But I have heard rumors that he is in poor health.” She smiled icily. “Very poor.”
Claudia came forward till she was gripping the cold stones of the battlement. “If anything happens to Jared,” she hissed, “if you touch a hair of his head I swear I’ll kill you myself before the Steel Wolves even get close.”
A commotion behind her. Soames was pulling her back. Finn was at the top of the stair, pale but alert, Ralph puffing behind him.
“If I needed more proof of your treachery, those words would be enough.” The Queen signaled hastily for her horse, as if the mention of the Steel Wolves had alarmed her.
“You would be wise to remember that Jared’s life is at stake, as well as that of every other person in that house. And if I have to burn it to the ground to end this matter, I will.”
Stepping onto the bent back of a soldier, she swung daintily into the saddle. “You have until exactly seven o’clock tomorrow morning to hand over the Escaped Prisoner. If he is not in my hands by then, the bombardment begins.”
Claudia watched her go.
The Pretender glared up scornfully at Finn. “If you’re really not Prison Scum you’d come out,” he said. “And not hide behind a girl.”
JARED SAID quietly, “It seems a shame to have escaped one assassin to be faced with another.”
Caspar nodded. “I know. But that’s war.”
Fax lumbered to his feet. “Boss?”
“I think we’ll tie him up,” Caspar said, “and then I can lead him down. In fact, Fax, once we get to the camp you can keep out of the way.” He smiled at Jared. “My mother adores me, but she’s never had much confidence in me. This will be a chance to show her what I can do. Hold out your hands.”
Jared sighed. He lifted his hands and then a paleness came over him; he staggered, almost fell.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Caspar grinned at Fax. “Nice try, Master …”
“No. Really. My medication. It’s just in my saddlebag …”
He crumpled and sat in the leaves shakily.
Caspar pulled a face, then waved impatiently and Fax turned to the horse. As soon as the man moved Jared leaped up and ran, haring between the trees, jumping the sprawling roots, but even as his breath grew to an ache, he heard the footfalls behind him, heavy and close, and then the growling laugh as he tripped and rolled and slammed up against a tree trunk.
He scrambled around. Fax stood over him, swinging the ax. Behind, Caspar grinned with triumph. “Oh go on, then, Fax. One good blow.”
The giant raised the blade.
Jared gripped the tree; he felt its smooth trunk under his hands.
Fax moved. He jerked and his smile became glassy, a fixed rictus that seemed to go through his body, and his arm, and the ax, so that it fell, thudding blade down in the soft earth.
After a frozen pause, eyes wide, he crashed after it.
Jared breathed out, astonished.
An arrow, buried up to its plume, jutted from the man’s back.
Caspar let out a howl of rage and fear. He grabbed at the ax, but a voice from the left said quietly, “Drop the weapon, Lord Earl. Now.”
“Who are you? How dare you … !”
The voice sounded grim. “We’re the Steel Wolves, lord. As you already know.”
27
Once he had crossed the sword-bridge he came to a room with a banquet of fine food spread on a table. He sat down and picked up a piece of bread, but the power of the Glove turned it to ashes. He picked up water but the glass shattered. So he traveled on, because he knew now that he was close to the door.
—Wanderings of Sapphique
“This is my kingdom now.” The Warden waved at the table.
“My seat of judgment. And here, my private suite.” He flung the doors open and walked through. The three Prisoners shoved Rix, Attia, and Keiro after him.
Inside, Attia stared.
They were in a small room hung with tapestries. There were windows in the walls, high stained-glass images impossible to see in the dimness, a few hands and faces lit by flamelight from the vast fire in the hearth.
The heat was fierce and welcome. The Warden turned. “Please sit.”
There were chairs of carved ebony, their backs formed by pairs of black swans with entwined necks. Heavy beams spread in intricate patterns in the roof; chandeliers splatted wax on the tiled floor. From somewhere nearby the throb of the vibrations echoed.
“You must be tired after your terrible journey,” the Warden said. “Bring them food.”
Attia sat. She felt weary and filthy; her hair was matted with the slime of the tunnel. And the Glove! Its claws scratched against her bare skin, but she dared not move it, in case the Warden noticed. His gray eyes were sharp and watchful.
The food, when it came, was a tray of bread and water, dropped down on the ground. Keiro ignored it, but Rix had no scruples; he ate as if he was famished, kneeling and cramming the bread into his mouth. Attia reached down and picked up a crust; she chewed it slowly, but it was dry and hard.
“Prison fare,” she said.
“That is where we are.” The Warden sat, flicking out the tails of his coat.
“So what happened to your tower?” Keiro asked.
“I have many boltholes in the Prison. I use the tower as my library. This is my laboratory.”
“I don’t see any test tubes.”
John Arlex smiled. “You will, all too soon. That is, if you want to be part of this wretch’s crazy plan.”
Keiro shrugged. “I’ve come this far.”
“So you have.” The Warden put the tips of his fingers together. “The halfman, the dog-slave, and the lunatic.”
Keiro didn’t show his feelings by a flicker.
“And do you think you will Escape?” The Warden picked up the jug and poured himself a goblet of water.
“No.” Keiro gazed around.
“Then you’re wise. As you know, you personally cannot leave. Your body contains elements of Incarceron.”
“Yes. But then, this body the Prison has made itself is completely formed of such elements.” Keiro leaned back, mocking the Warden’s pose, steepling his own fingers. “And it fully intends to leave. Once it has the Glove. So I have to assume there is a power in the Glove itself that makes this possible. And might even make it possible for me.”
The Warden stared at him and he stared back.
Behind them, Rix coughed as he tried to eat and drink at the same time.
“You’re wasted as a sorcerer’s Apprentice,” the Warden said quietly. “Perhaps you would do better working for me.”
Keiro laughed.
“Oh, don’t dismiss it so easily. You have the temperament for cruelty, Keiro. The Prison is your environment. Outside will disappoint you.”
Into the silence of their mutual gaze Attia snapped, “You must miss your daughter.”
The Warden’s gray eyes slid to her. She had expected some anger, but all he said was, “Yes. I do.”
Seeing her surprise, he smiled. “How little you inmates understand of me. I needed an heir and yes, I stole Claudia as a baby from this place. Now she and I can never escape each other. I do miss her. I’m sure she misses me.” He drank from the goblet, a fastidious sip
. “We have a twisted love. A love that is part hate and part admiration and part fear. But love all the same.”
Rix belched. He wiped his mouth with his hand and said, “I’m ready now.”
“Ready?”
“To face it. Incarceron.”
The Warden laughed. “You fool! You have no idea! Don’t you see that you’ve been facing Incarceron every day of your miserable, scavenging, trick-playing life? You breathe Incarceron, you eat and dream and wear Incarceron. It’s the scorn in every eye here, the word in every mouth. There is nowhere you can go to Escape from it.”
“Unless I die,” Rix said.
“Unless you die. And that is easily arranged. But if you have any crazy plan about the Prison taking you with it …”
He shook his head.
“But you’ll go with it,” Keiro murmured.
The Warden’s smile was wintry. “My daughter needs me.”
“I don’t understand why you haven’t gone before. You have both the Keys …”
The smile went. John Arlex stood, and he was tall and imposing. “Had. You’ll see. When the Prison is ready it will call for us. Until then you stay here. My men will be outside.”
He walked to the door, kicking aside the empty plate. Keiro did not move or look up, but his voice carried a cool insolence.
“You’re just as much a Prisoner here as we are. No difference.”
The Warden stopped, just for a moment. Then he opened the door and let himself out. His back was rigid.
Keiro laughed, softly.
Rix nodded, approving. “You tell him, Apprentice.”
“YOU’VE KILLED him.” Jared straightened from the body and stared at Medlicote. “There was no need …”
“Every need, Master. You would not have survived a blow from that ax. And you have the knowledge we all want.”
The secretary looked strange holding the firelock. His coat was as dusty as ever, his half-moon glasses catching the setting sun. Now he glanced around at the men blindfolding Caspar. “I’m sorry, but the prince too must die. He has seen us.”
“Yes I have.” Caspar sounded terrified and furious all at once. “You, Medlicote, and you, Grahame, and you, Hal Keane. All of you are traitors and once the Queen knows …”
“Exactly.” Medlicote’s voice was heavy. “Best if you stand aside, Master. You need have no part of this.”
Jared didn’t move. He eyed Medlicote through the dusk.
“You would really kill an unarmed boy?”
“They killed Prince Giles.”
“Finn is Giles.”
Medlicote sighed. “Master, the Wolves know that Giles is truly dead. The Warden of Incarceron was our leader. He would have told us if the Prince was placed in the Prison.”
The shock rocked Jared. He tried to recover. “The Warden is a man of great depth. He has his own plans. He may have misled you.”
The secretary nodded. “I know him better than you, Master. But that doesn’t concern us now. Please stand aside.”
“Don’t, Jared!” Caspar’s voice was a sharp cry. “Don’t leave me! Do something! I would never have killed you, Master! I swear!”
Jared rubbed his face. He was tired and sore and cold. He was worried sick about Claudia. But he said, “Listen to me, Medlicote. The boy is no use to anyone dead. But as a hostage he is immensely valuable. As soon as the moon sets and the night is dark enough I intend to use a secret way I know to get into the Wardenry …”
“What way?”
Jared jerked his head at the listening gentlemen. “I can’t say. You may have spies even in your Clan. But there is a way. Let me take Caspar with me. If the Queen sees her precious son paraded on the battlements she’ll stop the bombardment instantly. You must see that this will work.”
Medlicote gazed at him through the glasses. Then he said, “I will talk to my brothers.”
They walked aside and made a small group under the beeches.
Blindfolded and tied, Caspar whispered, “Where are you, Master Sapient?”
“Still here.”
“Save me. Untie me. My mother will load treasure on you. Anything you want. Don’t leave me to these monsters, Jared.”
Jared sat wearily in the beech leaves and watched the monsters. He saw grave, bitter men. Some he recognized—a gentleman of the King’s Chamber, a member of the Privy Council. Was his life any safer than Caspar’s now that he knew who they were? And why was he so tangled in this web of murder and intrigue when all he had ever wanted was to study the ancient writings and the stars?
“They’re coming back. Untie me, Jared. Don’t let them shoot me like Fax.”
He stood. “Sire, I’m doing my best.”
The men approached in the twilight. The sun had gone, and from the Queen’s camp a trumpet rang out.
Laughter and the ripple of viols came from the royal tent.
Caspar groaned.
“We’ve made up our minds.” Medlicote put the firelock down and gazed at Jared through the mothy evening. “We agree to your plan.”
Caspar gasped and slumped a little. Jared nodded.
“But. There are conditions. We know what you were researching in the Academy. We know you decoded files, and we assume you learned secrets there, about the Prison. Can you find a way Out for the Warden?”
“I believe it’s possible,” Jared said cautiously.
“Then you must swear to us, Master, that you will do everything you can to restore him to us. He must be held against his will. If the Prison is not the paradise we thought, he would never have abandoned us. The Warden is faithful to the Clan.”
They really were deluded, Jared thought. But he nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
“To make certain, I will enter the Wardenry with you.”
“No!” Caspar turned his head blindly. “He’ll kill me, even in there!”
Jared gazed at Medlicote. “Don’t fear, sire. Claudia would never let that happen.”
“Claudia.” Caspar nodded in relief. “Yes, you’re right. Claudia and I were always friends. My fiancée once. Could be again.”
The Steel Wolves looked down at him in bitter silence. One of them muttered, “The heir of the Havaarnas. What a future we face.”
“We will overthrow all of them, and Protocol too.”
Medlicote turned. “The moon sets in a few hours. We’ll wait till then.”
“Good.” Jared sat, pushing damp hair from his face. “In that case, my lords, if you have anything a poor Sapient could eat, he would be grateful. And then I’ll sleep, and you can wake me.” He glanced up, through the branches of the trees. “Here. Under the stars.”
CLAUDIA AND Finn sat opposite each other at the table.
Servants poured wine; Ralph ushered in three footmen carrying tureens and then supervised the dishes, removing covers and placing utensils next to Claudia.
She sat, brooding over the melon on her plate. Beyond the candles and piled centerpiece of fruit Finn drank silently.
“Will there be anything else, madam?”
She looked up. “No, Ralph, thank you. It looks wonderful. Please thank the staff.”
He bowed, but she caught his surprised glance and almost smiled. Maybe she had changed. Maybe she was not quite the same haughty little girl anymore.
When he had gone and they were alone, neither of them spoke. Finn piled some food on his plate and then poked at it listlessly. Claudia couldn’t face anything.
“It’s strange. For months I’ve wanted to be here, at home, with Ralph fussing.” She looked around at the familiar darkpaneled room. “But it’s not the same.”
“Maybe that’s because of the army outside.”
She glared at him. Then she said, “It got to you. What he said.”
“About hiding behind a girl?” He snorted. “I’ve heard worse. In the Prison Jormanric hurled insults that would freeze that idiot’s blood.”
She picked at a grape. “He did get to you.”
Finn threw down hi
s spoon with a clatter and jumped up. He strode angrily around the room.
“All right, Claudia, yes, he did. I should have killed him when I had the chance. No Pretender, no problem. And he’s right in one thing. If we haven’t cracked the Portal by seven, then I will walk out, alone, because there’s no way I’m having any of your people die for me. A woman died once before because I could only think about my own Escape. I saw her fall screaming down a black abyss and it was my fault. It won’t happen again.”
Claudia pushed a pip around her plate. “Finn, that’s exactly what he wants you to do. Be noble, give yourself up. Be killed.” She turned. “Think! The Queen doesn’t know about the Portal here—if she did, this place would be rubble by now. And now that you remember who you are … that you’re really Giles, you can’t just sacrifice yourself. You’re the King.”
He stopped and looked at her. “I don’t like the way you said that.”
“Said what?”
“Remember. Remember. You don’t believe me, Claudia.”
“Of course I do …”
“You think I’m lying. Maybe to myself.”
“Finn …” She stood, but he waved her away.
“And the fit … it didn’t happen, but it was coming. And it shouldn’t be. Not anymore.”
“They’ll take time to go. Jared told you that.” Exasperated, she stared at him. “Stop thinking about yourself for a minute, Finn! Jared is missing—god knows where he is. Keiro—”
“Don’t talk to me about Keiro!”
He had turned, and his face was so white it scared her.
She was silent, knowing she had touched a raw nerve, letting her anger simmer.
Finn stared at her. Then, quieter, he said, “I never stop thinking about Keiro. I never stop wishing I’d never come here.”
She laughed, acid. “You prefer the Prison?”
“I betrayed him. And Attia. If I could go back …”
She turned, snatched up her glass, and drank, her fingers trembling on the delicate stem. Behind her the fire crackled over its logs and plasticoals.