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"Then we need to make sure that it all stops, don't we? We need to do something about His Eminence and Pinch."
The cat hesitated. He arched his back in a long stretch, his fur shimmering with a strange, silvery glow. "Perhaps you should leave that to Ben Holiday and his companions. They seem more suited to that sort of work."
"But I started this and I want to finish it!" she insisted. "I know how to be careful."
The Prism Cat gave her a long, steady look that suggested he might be weighing the merits of this a.s.sertion. Then, his interest in the subject exhausted, he turned away and started back down the aisle toward the front of the room. "Time to go back to sleep," he called over his shoulder. "We can discuss this further tomorrow."
She thought it a reasonable suggestion, even though she was already certain that she wasn't going to change her mind no matter what sort of arguments he mounted. This was her chance to make up for Carrington, her opportunity to prove herself to her parents. Once she had restored Libiris and exposed His Eminence and Pinch, they could no longer deny her request to remain in Landover and to take charge of her future. She would be allowed to continue her studies with Questor and Abernathy. She would be accepted as an equal and no longer treated as a child.
The trek back through the stacks was endless. Mistaya was bone-weary and muddle-headed from lack of sleep, and she could barely manage to put one foot ahead of the other. If Edgewood Dirk noticed or cared, he was not giving evidence of it. He minced along ahead of her, a cat on its way to someplace of its own choosing. She might have been wallpaper for all the difference she made to him.
Somewhere along the way, he simply disappeared. She barely noticed, her thoughts only on getting to bed and going to sleep. Shouldn't be any problem tonight, she thought with a smile. Nothing would keep her awake after this.
Taking a quick look up and down the hallway before she did so, she opened the door to her room and stepped inside.
She knew immediately that something was wrong.
"Taking a nighttime stroll, Princess?" she heard His Eminence ask her from the darkness.
Then she caught a whiff of something bitter and raw, and she tumbled away into blackness.
SADLY MISTAKEN.
When Mistaya came awake again, she was lying on a straw pallet in a dark, windowless room with only a single candle sitting on the floor beside her for light. She had a splitting headache, but otherwise she felt all right. She lay without moving for long moments while her eyes adjusted, trying to remember exactly what had happened to her. When she did remember, she wished she hadn't.
A figure moved out of the darkness, coming over from another part of the room to sit on the bed beside her. She flinched involuntarily and hunched her shoulders, frightened that it was His Eminence or Rufus Pinch. But when she saw Thom's worried face, she exhaled sharply in relief.
"Are you all right?" he asked her, leaning close, his voice a whisper.
She nodded. "Are we alone?"
He nodded back. "But they might be listening."
"They brought you here, too?"
"Actually, they brought me here first, then you."
She tried to lift one arm to rub her pounding head, but her hands were surprisingly heavy. When she glanced down to find out why, she saw that they were encased in what looked like clouds of swirling mist that completely hid them from view.
"What's happened to me?" she gasped, shaking them wildly, struggling to free them. "Who did this?"
"His Eminence." Thom put his hands on her arms to quiet her. "No, don't. Not yet. Stay still. Your hands are bound with magic so that you can't work spells. If you try to free them, you will only hurt yourself."
She stopped thrashing and stared at him. "He knows everything, doesn't he? He knows who I am. I heard him call me by name before I pa.s.sed out. What did he use on me?"
Thom shook his head. "A spell. He had me frozen in place with another one so that I couldn't do anything to help. He's a much more accomplished wizard than we gave him credit for. And, yes, he knows who you are."
She gave a long sigh and lay back. "So now you know, too."
He smiled. "Oh, I knew who you were all along. Right from the moment I saw you standing in the doorway." He laughed softly when he saw the look on her face. "I told you I saw you when I was at court all those years ago, when you were just a child. You looked different then, but you had the same eyes. No one could ever mistake those eyes."
To her horror, she found herself blushing. Her face turned hot, and it was only the darkness that hid her reaction. "You must have gotten closer to me than I would have thought possible for a servant."
He shrugged. "Other things gave you away, as well. Your hands are too soft for a village girl's. Also, you are too well spoken, and you've had training in how to carry yourself."
"You seem awfully well informed about Princesses."
"Not really. I just pay attention to things."
"Why didn't you tell me you knew?"
He seemed to consider. "I'm not sure. Once I had you here, I didn't want you to leave. I wasn't making that up, you know. I was afraid that if I told you I knew you were Mistaya Holiday, it would change the nature of our relationship and you might decide you had to go. It just seemed easier to go on pretending I believed you to be who you said you were." He paused. "I actually do have a sister named Ellice, but she's much older than you."
She grimaced. "I don't know whether to be angry with you or not. I guess I'm not. It just feels funny, knowing I was pretending with you for nothing."
"We were both pretending. It was a game. But there wasn't any harm done. Except now that it's out in the open that you're a Princess, I'm afraid you might not want to have anything more to do with me."
She laughed despite herself. "It doesn't much matter what I want at this point, does it? I'm a prisoner of His Eminence, and so are you. We can't pretend much of anything now. What do you think he plans to do with us?"
Thom shook his head. "I don't know. He didn't say. He brought me here and left me, and a little later he brought you here, too."
"If he knows who I am, and he's keeping me prisoner anyway, then we are in a lot of trouble. He can't be planning anything good for either of us if he's willing to risk all that."
"No, I don't suppose so."
"This is all my fault," she declared, sitting up next to him, resting her mist-encased hands in her lap. She was already trying to think of a spell that would free her from the bindings, running through the lessons she had studied under Questor's tutelage. "If I'd stayed in my room instead of going back into the Stacks, none of this would have happened. I was so stupid it makes me want to scream."
"So that's where you were. I came looking for you earlier, but you weren't in your room."
"I didn't want to tell you," she admitted, giving him a rueful smile. "I'm sorry about that. I wish that I had."
"It isn't too late for you to do so now, is it?" he asked.
She smiled and proceeded to tell him everything she had been keeping from him. She even told him about Edgewood Dirk, despite her promise to the cat. It was necessary, she reasoned, given her present situation.
She had kept so much from him, she told Thom, because she was worried about involving him further.
"Also, I was worried about the same things you were," she added. "I thought it would change how you felt about me, and I didn't want you not to be my friend."
He c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at her. "Funny that we were both so worried when there was no reason for it."
"Funny peculiar," she agreed, just managing to meet his gaze. Then she looked quickly away. "Anyway, I messed up."
He looked away. "Maybe I was the one who messed up. Your getting caught might not have been your fault. It might have been mine. If I hadn't come to your room looking for you and then gone prowling around out in the Stacks, His Eminence might not have caught me and found out about you."
"Well, it doesn't much matter now. It's over and done with, and we can both take some share of the blame." She swung her legs around to rest her feet on the floor. "Where are we, anyway?"
"One of the storerooms, down by the kitchen. There's no way out; I've already searched. Even if there were somebody who might try to help us, the walls are two feet thick. We can yell all we want, but no one will hear." He paused. "Any chance the Prism Cat might help us?"
She shrugged. "There's always a chance. But Dirk thinks mostly of himself. I don't think his attention span is all that long, either. If he knows we're here and feels so inclined, he might choose to help us. But he might just as easily not."
"Some friend."
"I wouldn't call Edgewood Dirk a friend. More on the order of a particularly nettlesome aunt or a nagging teacher." She was thinking now of Harriet Appleton. But that wasn't fair, she knew. She tossed the comparison aside. "Dirk is unpredictable," she finished.
He shifted himself on the pallet so that he was sitting closer. "You told me how you happened to come to Libiris, but not why. You said you were escaping from your grandfather and hiding from your family so you wouldn't have to come here. But why was your family making you come here in the first place?"
She told him. She started all the way back with her time at Carrington and her troubles with the school administration, culminating in her suspension and disgraced return to Landover. She related the events surrounding her flight from Sterling Silver, although it was unexpectedly hard to explain why she hadn't wanted to come to Libiris but had ended up coming anyway and then staying. He listened without comment to all of it, and not once did she see even the flicker of a grimace or a look of disbelief cross his face.
"I guess I still don't understand what happened," she finished. "I mean, I still don't know exactly how I ended up here."
"Well, I think you just wanted it to be your idea," he said, giving a shrug to emphasize that it wasn't all that complicated for him. "I think you wanted to come here on your own terms, and that's what you did. I also think you did the right thing."
"You do?"
"Yes. Both for you and for Libiris. Maybe for your father and the Kingdom, too. After all, you've stopped the book theft and done something to heal the library so that the demons no longer have a way to escape Abaddon."
"But His Eminence will already have found out what I've done! He'll put everything back the way it was!" She felt suddenly disheartened. "A week ago, it wouldn't have mattered. I didn't even want to be here. Libiris was just an ugly building. But now I know the truth about her. She's so much more-and she's in such pain, Thom! I wanted to help her get better, and I thought that by tricking the Throg Monkeys into returning her books I had. But it will all have been for nothing."
Thom shook his head quickly. "Don't be too sure of that. He didn't say much of anything when he caught up with me. He doesn't necessarily know what you've done."
"Maybe. But he'll figure it out quickly enough, don't you think?"
"I don't know. Just don't give anything away. He'll try to get you to do that. Make him find it out for himself."
"Don't worry, I won't do anything to help him."
"Tell him he has to let you go. You are a Princess of Landover, and if your father finds out what's happened, His Eminence won't be able to run fast enough or far enough. That ought to make him sit up and take notice." He paused. "Wait a minute! I've got a better idea. Tell him your father already knows you're here!"
"Of course!" she exclaimed, remembering suddenly. "Questor told him! And Father's on his way here to bring me home!"
"That's right! He might even get here before sunset today!"
Mistaya looped her bound arms over his head and shoulders and hugged him as hard as she could. "Yes, yes, he might!"
Thom hugged her back instantly, and then as if realizing what they had done, they released each other at the same moment and looked in different directions, eyes lowered.
"Well, that deserved a hug," she declared finally, looking him in the eye again.
"I thought so," he agreed, and gave her one of his quirky grins.
They sat together in the small glow of the candle until the tiny flame went out, leaving them in darkness save for a faint wash of sunlight creeping with a thief's hesitancy under their locked door from the hallway beyond. Time pa.s.sed with agonizing slowness, and no one came. Mistaya was hungry and tired, but there was no food to eat and sleep was impossible. Instead, she talked with Thom about ways they might escape and things they might do to make His Eminence sorry for what he had done. The conversation helped keep her growing fears at bay-fears that seemed increasingly well founded. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that His Eminence was not going to be intimidated by anything she said. If he was willing to lock them up in the first place, he couldn't be all that worried about what her father might do.
She spent a goodly amount of time during the silences between exchanges thinking about how she could summon spells that would help them. The problem was that virtually everything she knew how to do required a combination of voice and hands. You had to speak the words and make the signs if the spells were to work. It was a safeguard against accidental summoning and unfortunate consequences. If all that was needed to conjure a spell was a word or two, you might act inadvertently. But if you also needed to gesture, it was less likely that you would make a mistake. Questor had taught her this, explaining that using magic always required measured consideration beforehand.
She wished suddenly that she hadn't left all her possessions tucked away in her sleeping chamber. She might find something useful in Questor's book of magic if she could get her hands on it. There were all kinds of spells, incantations, and conjuring in there-maybe even something that didn't require the use of her hands.
Nor, she realized with a shock, did she have the rainbow crush on her. That, too, was back in her sleeping chamber. She had been so sure she wouldn't need it, so sure of herself.
Well, maybe Edgewood Dirk would come to rescue her.
Sure, and maybe cows would fly.
She had no idea how long she had sat in the darkness with Thom when she finally heard footsteps outside the storeroom door and the sharp snick of the lock releasing. She sat up straight at once, readying herself for whatever was to come. Beside her, Thom whispered, "Remember. Don't tell him anything. Don't let him trick you."
The door opened and a flood of light spilled through, momentarily blinding her. His Eminence appeared, tall and vaguely spectral, his strange head canted over to one side, as if it were too heavy for his neck. Rufus Pinch followed close on his heels, sour-faced and pale from his illness, apparently determined not to miss out on whatever punishment was to be dispensed to the prisoners.
"Good day, Princess," His Eminence greeted, beaming down at her. "Good morning, Thom," he added, nodding to the boy.
"You had better let us go, and right now," Mistaya snapped, glaring at him as she came to her feet and stood facing him, ignoring the weight of the restraints on her hands.
"Had I?" asked the other, an astonished look crossing his face. "Oh, dear. What will happen if I don't?"
"My father will find out, that's what!"
"Well, I certainly hope so."
"He already knows I'm here, you realize. Questor Thews visited me secretly two days ago, and when he left he ..." She caught herself, realizing suddenly what he had said. "You hope so?" She repeated his words back to him, not quite believing she had heard right.
His Eminence held up his hands and patted at the air, glancing at Pinch to share a secret smile before turning back to her. "Let me save you the trouble of puzzling it through. I already know Questor Thews was here. You both thought he got into the building without my knowing, but that is quite impossible. You talked, and he departed. I don't doubt that in doing so he made you aware of the fact that he would have to report your whereabouts to your father. Am I right?"
She nodded dumbly, not at all liking where this was headed. "He said Father would be coming to get me." This was not so, but she thought she needed to suggest that there was an urgency to things. "He's probably already on his way."
His Eminence looked even happier. "Excellent! Exactly what I was counting on!"
Mistaya stared. "What are you talking about? You hold me prisoner, and you're telling me you want my father to come here to do something about it?"
"That is not exactly right. I do want him to come, but I do not want him to think you are a prisoner." He held up one finger, as if lecturing. "In point of fact, if you hadn't gone into the Stacks against my express orders, there wouldn't be a reason for you to be be a prisoner. But you just couldn't help yourself, could you? Whatever was it that you were doing back there, little Princess?" a prisoner. But you just couldn't help yourself, could you? Whatever was it that you were doing back there, little Princess?"
She ignored the question. "Why do you want my father to come visit me at all?"
He sighed heavily. "Well, the answer to that question is complicated. Boiled down to its simplest form, it has to do with his position in Landover versus my own. I think his is slightly more elevated than necessary and mine is very much in need of improvement. If he comes to see you, he will of necessity have to see me, and I might be able to persuade him of the need for rea.s.sessment."
"Rea.s.sessment?"
"Of our respective positions."
She shook her head. "I don't understand."
"Princess, you had a falling-out with your parents and you ran away from home. Of that much, I am certain. Why you came here, I haven't a clue. But I view it as a type of divine intervention. Higher powers than those to which I have access have sent you my way. I knew you at once for who you were; surely you realize that now, even if you didn't before. You are too well known to pretend to be a village working girl. Nor was there any hope that Thom could pa.s.s you off as his sister. No, you were Princess Mistaya Holiday, and you were here to help me in my efforts to improve my fortunes and reinvent my future."
Behind him, Rufus Pinch cleared his throat meaningfully. "Yes, yes, Mr. Pinch, and yours, as well," Crabbit added wearily.