Текст книги "Incarceron"

Автор книги: Kathryn Fisher

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CHAINED, HAND AND FOOT

15

Sapphique rode out of the Tanglewood and saw the Fortress of Bronze. People were streaming into its walls from all around.

"Come inside," they urged him. "Hurry! Before it attacks!"

He looked around. The world was metal and the sky was metal. The people were ants on the plains of the Prison.

"Have you forgotten he said, "that you are already Inside?"

But they hurried past and said he was deranged.

-Legends of Sapphique

The storm had raged all night before dying away so abruptly that Finn had been woken at once by the silence. It seemed eerie after the wind, but at least it meant they could move now, before the Prison changed its mind. Keiro had scrambled outside and stretched, groaning with cramp. After a minute his voice had come back, unusually muted. "Look at this."

When Finn had pulled himself up, he had seen that the forest was bare. Every leaf, every thin metallic curl of foliage lay heaped in immense drifts.

The trees had broken out into flower. Copper blossoms, scarlet and gold, glimmered up hill and down dale as far as he could see.

Behind him, Attia had laughed. "It's beautiful."

He had turned, surprised, realizing he saw it only as an obstacle. "Is it?"

"Oh yes. But you ... you're used to color. Coming from Outside"

"You believe me?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes. There's something different about you. You don't fit. And the name you called out in your sleep, this Claudia. You remember her?"

It was what he had told them. He looked up. "Listen, Attia, I need your help. It's just... I need sometimes to be alone. The Key ... it helps the visions. Sometimes I need to be away from Keiro and Gildas. Do you understand?"

She had nodded gravely, her bright eyes fixed on him. "I told you, I'm your servant. Just tell me when, Finn."

He had felt ashamed. Looking at his face, she had said nothing more.

Since then they had hurried through a landscape of jewel-bright color, between plantations of trees that had marched downhill, the forest floor broken and seamed with streams in strange insulated beds, riven with cracks. Insects Finn had never imagined crawled in great drifts of leaves that blocked the path; finding detours around these lost them hours. And high, in the bare branches jackdaws hopped and karked in flocks, following the travelers with beady curiosity till Gildas cursed them and waved a fist at them. Then, silently, they all flew away.

Keiro nodded. "So the Sapienti still have some magic after all."

Breathless, the old man glared at him. "I wish it worked on you."

Keiro grinned at Finn, Finn allowed himself a smile. He felt lighter somehow, and as he trudged after Gildas down the aisles of the wood, he began to sense something that must be like happiness.

The Escape had begun. The Comitatus was far behind; all that life of brutal infighting, of murder and lies and fear was over. Things would be different now. Sapphique would show him the way out.

Stepping over a tangle of root he almost felt like laughing aloud, but instead he put his hand inside his shirt and touched the Key.

He jerked his hand away at once.

It was warm.

He glanced at Keiro, pacing ahead. Then he turned. Attia was where she always walked.

At his heels.

Annoyed, he stopped. "I don't want a slave."

She stopped too. "Whatever you say." Her eyes watched him with that bruised look.

He said, "There's a stream here, I can hear it. Tell the others I'm getting some water."

Without waiting, he strode off the path deep into a thicket of platinum thorns, then crouched among the undergrowth. Umbels of pliant wire rose around him, hollow reeds where microBeetles worked busily.

Hurriedly he took out the Key.

It was a risk. Keiro might come. But it was hot now in his fingers, and there were the familiar small blue lights deep in the crystal. "Claudia?" he whispered anxiously. "Can you hear me?

"Finn! At last!"

Her voice was so loud it made him swallow; he glanced around. "Quiet! Be quick please.

They'll come looking for me."

"Who will?" She sounded fascinated.

"Keiro."

"Who's he?"

"My oathbrother ..."

"All right. Now listen. There's a small finger panel at the base of the Key. It's invisible but the surface is slightly raised. Can you find it?"

His fingers groped, leaving dirty smudges. "No," he said, flustered.

"Try! Do you think he has a different artifact?" The question wasn't for Finn. The other voice answered her, the one he remembered as Jared. "It's almost certainly identical. Finn, use your fingertips. Search the edge, the facets near the edge."

What did they think he was! He scrabbled, his hands sore.

"Finn!" Keiro's murmur was right behind him. He jumped up, shoving the Key back, gasped, "For God's sake! Can't I take a drink in peace?"

His brother's hand shoved him back down into the leaf drift. "Get down and shut up.

We've got visitors."

CLAUDIA SAT back on her heels and swore with frustration. "He's gone! Why is he gone?"

Jared went to the window and gazed out at the utter chaos in the courtyard. "It's just as well. The Warden is coming up the steps."

"Did you hear the way he sounded? Again, it was so ... panicky."

"I know how he feels." Jared tugged a small pad from the pocket of his riding coat and thrust it at her. "This is the full draft of the old man's testament. Read it while we travel."

Doors slamming. Voices outside. Her father's. Caspar's.

"Delete it straight afterward, Claudia. I have a copy."

"We should do something. About the body."

"We weren't there, remember?"

He barely had the words out before the door opened. Claudia calmly slipped the pad down her dress.

"My dear." Her father came in and stood before her. She stood up to meet him. He wore his usual black frockcoat, the scarf at his neck silkily expensive, his boots the finest leather. But today he wore a small white flower in his buttonhole, as if to mark the occasion, and that was so unlike him she stared at it in surprise.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

She nodded. She was wearing a dark blue traveling dress and cloak, with a special pocket sewn into it for the Key.

"A great morning for the House of Arlex, Claudia. The beginning of a new life for you, for us all." His hair with its streak of silver was tied severely back, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He pulled on his gloves before he took her hand. She looked at him without smiling, and the old dead man in the straw was in her mind, his eyes open.

She smiled and dropped a curtsy. "I'm ready, sir."

He nodded. "I always knew you would be. I always knew you'd never let me down."

Like my mother did? she wondered acidly. But she said nothing, and her father gave

Jared the briefest nod and led her out. They swept into the great hall, over the lavenderstrewn floor, down between the rows of fascinated servants, the Warden of Incarceron and his proud daughter, setting out for the marriage that would make her a queen. And on a signal from Ralph the staff cheered and applauded and threw sweet irises underfoot; they rang tiny silver bells in honor of the wedding they would never see.

Jared walked behind, a satchel of books under one arm. He shook hands with the servants, and the maids moped over him, pushing tiny packets of sweetmeats at him, promising to keep the tower safe, not to touch any of his precious instruments, feed the fox cub and the birds.

As Claudia took her seat in the coach and looked back, she felt a rueful lump in the back of her throat. They would all miss Jared, his gentle ways, his fragile good looks, his willingness to dose their coughing children and advise their wayward sons. None of them seemed at all sorry to see her go.

But then whose fault was that? She had played the game. She was the mistress, the

Warden's daughter.

Cold as ice. Hard as nails.

She raised her head and smiled across at Alys. "Four days' traveling. I intend to ride for at least half of it."

Her nurse frowned. "I doubt the Earl will. And he'll probably want you to sit in his coach for some of the time."

"Well, I'm not married to him yet. When I am, he'll soon find out it's what I want that counts."

If they thought her hard, she would be hard. And yet, as the horses were mounted and the outriders gathered and the coaches began the slow turn to the gatehouse, all she wanted was to be staying here, in the house where she had lived since she was born, and she leaned out of the window and waved and called out all their names, her eyes stinging with sudden tears. "Ralph! Job! Mary-Ellen!"

And they waved back, a storm of handkerchiefs and the white doves rising from the gables and the bees in the honey-suckle buzzing as the carriage rumbled over the wooden drawbridge. In the dark green waters of the moat she saw the house reflected, saw moorhens and swans arrow over it, and behind her in a great procession the wagons and coaches and riders and hounds and falconers of her entourage, of the household of the "warden of Incarceron, on the day his plans began to come to fruition.

Windblown, she threw herself back in the leather seat and blew hair from her eyes. Well, maybe.

THEY WEREmen and yet how could they be?

They were at least eight feet tall. They walked with an odd angular gait, stalking like herons, ignoring the vast drifts of sharp leaves, crunching straight through them.

Finn felt Keiro's hand grip so tight on his arm it hurt. Then his brother breathed a single syllable in his ear.

"Stilts?

Of course. As one of them paced by he saw them up close, knee-high metallic calipers, and the men walked on them expertly, taking long strides, and he saw too that they used the height to touch certain points of the trees, small knots in the trunks, and that the trees instantly sprouted semi-organic fruits that the men harvested.

Turning his head he looked for Gildas, but wherever the Sapient and the girl were hidden, they were invisible to him.

He watched the line of men work down through the trees. As they moved down the hillside they seemed to shrink, and Finn distinctly saw the man on the end shimmer, as if he passed through some disturbance in the air.

After a while only their heads and shoulders showed. Then they were gone.

Keiro waited a long moment before getting up. He gave a soft whistle and a heap of leaves convulsed nearby. Gildas's silvery head came up. He said, "Gone?"

"Far enough."

Keiro watched Attia scramble hurriedly out, then he turned. Taking one look at his oathbrother he said quietly, "Finn?"

It was happening. Looking at the shimmer in the air had done it. Finn's skin crawled with itches, his mouth was dry, his tongue felt stiff. He rubbed his hand over his mouth. "No," he mumbled.

"Get hold of him," Gildas snapped.

From somewhere distant Keiro said, "Wait."

And then Finn was walking. Walking straight to the place, the emptiness between two great boughs of copper where the air had moved as if dust fell through a column of light there, as if a slot in Time opened there. And when he came to k he stopped, stretching both arms before himself as if he were blind. It was a keyhole out of the world.

Through it, a draft blew.

Small flashes of pain stung him. He struggled through them, feeling, touching the edges, bringing his face close, putting his eye to the sliver of light, gazing through.

He saw a shimmer of color. It was so bright it made his eyes water, made him gasp.

Shapes moved there, a green world, a sky as blue as in his dreams, a great buzzing creature of black and amber hurtling toward him.

He cried out and staggered back, felt Keiro grab both arms from behind. "Keep looking, brother. What do you see? What is it, Finn?"

He crumpled. All the strength went from his legs and he collapsed in the leaf-litter. Attia shoved Keiro away. Quickly she poured water into a cup and held it out to Finn; blindly he took it and gulped it down, then closed his eyes and put his head in his hands, dizzy and sick. He retched. Then vomited.

Above him, voices raged. When he could hear, he realized one of them was Attia's, .. treating him like that! Don't you see he's sick!"

Keiro's laugh was scornful. "He'll get over it. He's a seer. He sees things. Things we need to know."

"Don't you care about him at all?"

Finn dragged his head up. The girl was facing up to Keiro, her hands gripped into fists at her sides. Her eyes had lost their bruised look; now they blazed with anger.

Keiro kept his mocking grin. "He's my brother. Of course I care about him."

"You only care about yourself." She turned to Gildas. "And you too. Master. You ..

She stopped. Gildas obviously wasn't listening. He stood leaning one arm on a metal tree, staring ahead. "Come here," he said quietly.

Keiro put his hand out and Finn took it, pulling himself groggily to his feet. They crossed to the Sapient and stood behind him; looking out, they saw what he saw.

The forest ended here. Ahead a narrow road ran down to a City. It stood behind walls in a fiery landscape of bare plains. Houses clustered together, constructed of patches of metal, towers and battlements built of strange dark wood, thatched with tin and copper leaves.

All along the road to it, in long noisy streams of laughter and shouting and song, in crowds and wagons, carrying children and driving flocks of sheep, hundreds and hundreds of people were streaming.

HER KNEES up on the carriage seat, Claudia read the small pad while Alys slept. The carriage bounced; outside, the green woods and fields of the Wardenry rattled by in a cloud of dust and flies.

My name is Gregor Bartlett. This is my testament. I pray those who find it to keep it safe, and when the time comes, to use it, because a great injustice has been done and only I am alive to know about it.

I worked in the Palace from my early years. I was a stable boy and a postillion, then a house servant. I became trusted, rose to be important. I was Valet of the Chamber to the late King, and I remember his first wife, the frail pretty woman from Overseas that he married when they both were young. When his first son, Giles, was born I was given charge of him. I arranged the wet nurse, appointed maids of the nursery. He was the Heir; nothing was spared for his comfort. As the boy grew I came to love him like my own. He was a happy child. Even when his mother died and the King remarried, he lived in his own wing of the Palace, surrounded by his precious toys and pets, his own household. I have no children of my own. The boy became my life. You must believe that.

Gradually, I sensed a change. As he grew, his father came to him less and less. There was a second son now, the Earl Caspar, a squalling noisy baby petted over by the women of the Court. And there was the new Queen.

Sia is a strange, remote woman. They say the King looked out of his carriage once as he was being driven along a forest road, and there she stood, at the crossroads. They say that as he drove past her he saw her eyes—they are strange eyes, with pale irises—and after that moment he could not stop thinking about her. He sent messengers back, but no one was there. He had the nearby villages and estates searched, issued proclamations, offered rewards to his noblemen, but no one could find her. And then, weeks later, as he walked in the gardens of the Palace, he looked up and she was there, sitting by the fountain.

No one knows her parentage, or where she comes from. I believe her to be a sorceress.

What became clear soon after her son was born was her hatred for Giles. She never showed it to the King or his Court; to them she was careful to honor the Heir. But I saw it.

He was betrothed at seven years old to the daughter of the Warden of Incarceron. A haughty little girl, but he seemed to like her...

Claudia smiled. Glancing at Alys she leaned out of the window. Her father's carriage was behind; he must be sharing it with Evian. She scrolled the text down.

... the happiness of his birthday party, a night when we rowed on the lake under the stars and he told me how happy he was. I will never forget his words to me.

The death of his father affected him badly. He became solitary. Did not attend the dances and games. He studied hard. I wonder now if he had begun to fear the Queen. He never said so. Now I will pass to the end. The day before the riding accident I received a message that my sister, who lived at Casa, was sick. I asked Giles for leave to go to her; the dear boy was most concerned, and insisted the kitchens make me up a parcel of delicacies to take her. He also made sure I had a carriage. He waved me off on the steps of the Outer Court. That was the last time I ever saw him.

When I arrived, my sister was in excellent health. She had no knowledge of who had sent the message.

My heart misgave me. I thought of the Queen. I wanted to return at once, but the coachman, who may have been the Queens man, refused, saying the horses were exhausted. I am no longer a rider, but I saddled a horse from the inn and I rode back, galloping hard, all through the night. I will not try to write the agonies of worry I felt. I came over the hill and saw the thousand pinnacles of the Court, and I saw that from every one of them a black pennant flew.

I remember little after that.

They had laid his body on a bier in the Great Council Chamber, and after it was ready, I asked leave to approach him. A message came from the Queen, with a man to escort me. He was the secretary of the Warden, a tall silent man called Medlicote ...

Claudia was so surprised she whistled. Alys snored and turned.

... I climbed the steps like a broken creature. My boy lay there and they had made him beautiful. I bent to kiss his face with tears blinding my eyes. And then I paused.

Oh, they had made a good job of it. Whoever the boy was he was the right age and coloring, and the skinwand had been carefully used. But I knew, I knew.

It was not Giles.

I think I laughed. One gasp of joy. I pray no one noticed, that no one knows. I sobbed, retired, played the heartbroken retainer, the broken old man. And yet I know the secret that the

Queen, and perhaps the Warden, wish no one to know.

That Giles is alive.

And where else can he be but in Incarceron?

Alys grunted and yawned and opened her eyes. "Are we nearly at the inn yet?" she asked sleepily.

Claudia stared at the small pad, eyes wide. She looked up at her nurse as if she'd never seen her before. Then she glanced down and read the last sentence again.

And again.

16

Don't defy me, John. And be on your guard. There are plots in the Court, and conspiracies against us. As for Claudia, from what you say she has already seen what she searches for. How amusing that she did not even recognize it.

-Queen Sia to the Warden; private letter

It was hours before she could get Jared alone. There was the fuss of finding their rooms, the innkeeper bowing and scraping, the supper, endless small talk from Evian, her father's calm watchfulness, Caspar's complaints about his horse.

But finally, well after midnight, she tapped on the door of his attic and slipped in.

He was sitting at the window looking at the stars, a bird pecking bread from his hands.

She said, "Don't you ever sleep?"

Jared smiled. "Claudia, this is folly. If they catch you here, you know what they'd think."

She said, "I'm bringing you into danger, I know. But we have to talk about what he wrote."

He was silent a moment. Then he released the bird, closed the window, and turned, and she saw the shadows under his eyes. "Yes."

They looked at each other. Finally she said, "They didn't kill Giles. They imprisoned him."

"Claudia..."

"They wouldn't spill Havaarna blood! Or perhaps the Queen was afraid to. Or my father ..."

She looked up. "It's true. My father must know."

The bleakness in her voice shocked them both. She sat on a chair. "And there's something else. This boy Finn. The Prisoner. His voice ... seems familiar."

"Familiar?" He looked sharply at her.

"I've heard it before, Master."

"You imagine that. Don't make this assumption, Claudia."

She was still a moment. Then she shrugged. "In any case we need to try again."

Jared nodded. He went over and locked the door, clipped a small device to its back and adjusted it. Then he turned.

Claudia had the Key ready. She activated the speech channel, and then the small visual circuit that they had discovered. He stood behind her, watching the hologram of the eagle flap silent wings.

"Did you delete the pad?"

"Of course. Completely."

As the Key began to glow, he said quietly, "They had no problem spilling the old man's blood, Claudia. They may already know we searched his house. They must fear what we found."

"By they you mean my father." She looked up. "He won't hurt me. If he loses me, he loses the throne. And I'll protect you, Master, I swear."

His smile was rueful. She knew he didn't believe she could.

Very quietly, the Key spoke. "Can you hear me?"

Claudia said, "It's him! Touch the panel, Finn. Touch it! Have you found it?"

"Yes." He sounded hesitant. "What will happen if I do?"

"We'll be able to see each other, we think. It won't hurt you. Try k, please."

There was a second of dead air, a few crackles. And then Claudia almost jumped back.

Out of the key a beam projected silently. It opened to a square, and crouched in the square, startled and dirty, was a boy.

He was tall and very thin, his face famished and anxious. His hair was lank and long, tied back in a knot of string, and his clothes were the drabbest she had ever seen, muddy grays and greens, badly worn. A sword and a rusty knife were stuck in his belt.

He stared at her in astonishment.

FINN SAW a queen, a princess.

Her face was clean and clear, her hair shone. She wore a dress of some lustrous silk, and a pearl necklace that would be worth a fortune if a buyer could ever be found rich enough.

He saw at once that she had never been hungry, that her mind was clear and intelligent. Behind her a grave dark-haired man watched, wearing a Sapient's coat that put Gildas's rag to shame.

Claudia was silent so long, Jared glanced at her. He saw she was stricken, probably by the boy's condition, so he said softly, "It seems Incarceron is no paradise then."

The boy glared at him. "Are you mocking me, Master?"

Jared shook his head sadly. "No indeed. Tell us how you came to have this artifact."

Finn glanced around. The ruin was silent and black; Attia's shadow crouched in the doorway, watching the darkness outside. She gave him a small nod of reassurance. He looked back at the holoscreen, afraid that its light would give them away.

As he told them about the eagle on his wrist, he watched Claudia. He was good at reading faces, but hers was difficult, so controlled, so unrevealing, though the faintest widening of her eyes told him she was fascinated. Then he slipped into lies, about finding the Key in a deserted tunnel, obliterating the Maestra, her death, his shame, as if none of it had ever happened. Attia glanced over, but he kept his face away. He told them about the Comitatus, about the terrible fight he had fought with Jormanric, how he had defeated the giant in single combat, stolen three skull-rings from his hands, led his friends out of that hell. About how they were following a sacred trail out of the Prison.

She listened intently, asking brief questions. He had no idea if she believed any of it. The Sapient was silent , once only raising an eyebrow, when Finn talked of Gildas.

"So the Sapienti still survive? But what happened to the Experiment, the social structures, the food supply? How did it all break down?"

"Never mind that," Claudia said impatiently. "Don't you see what the eagle mark means, Master. Don't you see?" She leaned forward eagerly. "Finn. How long have you been in

Incarceron?"

"I don't know." He scowled. "I ... only remember ..."

"What?"

"The last three years. I get... memories, but—" He stopped. He didn't want to tell her about the seizures.

She nodded. Her hands were clasped in her lap, he saw. A diamond ring gleamed on one finger. "Listen, Finn. Do I look familiar to you? Do you recognize me?"

His heart leaped. "No. Should I?"

She was biting her lip. He felt her tension. "Finn, listen to me. I think you may be ..."

"FINN!"

Attia's scream was stifled. A hand grabbed her and clamped down on her mouth. "Too late," Keiro said gleefully.

Out of the darkness Gildas strode in and looked into the holoscreen. For a second he and

Jared shared a startled stare.

Then the screen went blank.

The Sapient breathed a prayer. He turned and looked at

Finn and the obsession was back in his hard blue eyes. "I saw! I saw Sapphique!"

Finn suddenly felt very tired. "No," he said, watching Attia struggle wildly out of Keiro's grip. "It wasn't."

"I saw, fool boy! I saw him!" The old man knelt painfully before the Key. He reached out and touched it. "What did he say, Finn? What was his message to us?"

"And why didn't you tell us you could see people with it?" Keiro snapped. "Don't you trust us?"

Finn shrugged. He, not Claudia, had done most of the talking, he realized. But he had to keep them guessing, so he said, "Sapphique ... warns us."

"Of what?" Nursing his bitten hand Keiro gave the girl a sour look. "Bitch," he muttered.

"Of danger."

"What sort? The whole place is—"

"From above." Finn muttered it at random. "Danger from above."

Together, they looked up.

Instantly Attia screamed and threw herself aside; Gildas swore. The net collapsed like the web of an uber-spider, each end weighted; it crashed down on Finn, flattening him under its impact, a crumpling of dust and screeching bats. For a moment the breath was knocked right out of him, then he realized Gildas was struggling and tangling next to him, that the two of them were meshed in heavy ropes sticky with an oozing resin.

"Finn!" Attia knelt and pulled at the net; her hand stuck and she pulled it hastily away.

Keiro had his sword out; he pushed her aside and slashed at the cables, but they were threaded with metal and the blade clanged. At the same time a shrill alarm in the ruin began to whine, a high, wailing note.

"Don't waste your time," Gildas muttered. Then, furiously, "Get out of here!"

Keiro stared at Finn. "I don't leave my brother."

Finn struggled to get up but couldn't. For a moment the whole nightmare of being chained before the trucks of the Civicry crashed back into his mind; then he gasped, "Do as he says."

"We can get that thing off you." Keiro looked around wildly. "If we had some sort of pivot."

Attia grabbed a metal strut from the wall. It fell to rust in her hands and she flung it down with a wail.

Keiro hauled at the net. The dark oil blackened his hands and coat; he swore bur kept pulling, and Finn heaved from below, but after a second they all collapsed, defeated by the weight.

Keiro crouched at the net. "I'll find you. I'll rescue you. Give me the Key."

"What?"

"Give it to me. Or they'll find it on you and take it."

Finn's fingers closed on the warm crystal. For a moment he saw Gildas's startled gaze through the mesh; the Sapient said, "Finn, no. We'll never see him again."

"Shut your mouth, old man." Furious, Keiro turned. "Give it to me, Finn. Now."

Voices outside. The barking of dogs down the track.

Finn wriggled. He squeezed the Key between the oily mesh; Keiro grabbed it and pulled it out, his fingers smearing oil on the perfect eagle. He shoved it inside his jacket, then tugged off one of Jormanric's rings and jammed it on Finn's finger. "One for you. Two for me."

The alarm stopped.

Keiro backed, glancing around, but Attia had already vanished. "I'll find you, I swear."

Finn didn't move. But just as Keiro faded into the night of the Prison, he gripped the chains and whispered, "It will only work for me. Sapphique speaks only to me."

If Keiro heard him, he didn't know. Because just then the doors crashed in, lights were beamed in his eyes, the teeth of dogs were snapping and growling at his hands and face.

JARED LOOKED at her aghast. "Claudia, this is madness ..."

"It could be him. It could be Giles. Oh yes, he looks different. Thinner. More worn. Older.

But it could easily be him. Right age, right build. Hair." She smiled. "Right eyes."

She paced the room, consumed with restlessness. She didn't want to say how the boy's condition had appalled her. She knew that the failure of the Incarceron Experiment was a terrible blow, that all the Sapienti would be rocked by it.

Crouching suddenly by the dying fire, she said, "Master, you need to sleep and so do I.

Tomorrow I'll insist you travel with me. We can read Alegon's Histories till Alys falls asleep and then we can talk. Tonight, I'll just say this. If he isn't Giles, he could be. We could make a case out that he is. With the old man's testament and the mark on the boy's wrist, there would be doubt. Enough doubt to stop the marriage."

"His DNA..."

"Not Protocol. You know that."

He shook his head. "Claudia, I can't believe ... This is impossible ..."

"Think about it." She got up and crossed to the door. "Because even if this boy is not

Giles, Giles is in there somewhere. Caspar's not the Heir, Jared. And I intend to prove that. If it means taking on the Queen and my father, I'll do it."

At the door she paused, not wanting to leave him in this pain, wanting to say something that would ease his distress. "We have to help him. We have to help all of them in that hell."

He had his back to her, but he nodded. Bleakly he said, "Go to bed, Claudia."

She slipped out into the dim corridor. One candle burned far down in an alcove. As she walked her dress swished the dry rushes on the floor, and at her door she paused and looked back.

The inn seemed silent. But outside the door that must be

Caspar's, a sudden small movement made her stare, and she bit her lip in dismay.

The big man, Fax, was lying there across two chairs.

He was looking straight at her. Ironically, with a leer that chilled her, he waved the tankard in his hand.