He nodded. Then he lifted the cub off and dumped it on the floor, ignoring its snarl of dismay. 'Come and look at this.'
Beside the telescope the monitor nickered. He touched the control and the screen rippled with words in the Sapient tongue of which he had never, for all her pleading, taught her a word. As he scrolled through in a bat whipped through the opened room and vanished back into the night. Claudia glanced around. 'We should be careful.'
''I'll shut the windows in a moment.' Absently Jared stopped the text. 'Here.' His delicate fingers touched a key and the translation appeared. 'Look. This is a fragment of a burned draft of a letter written by the Queen, retrieved and copied by a Sapient spy in the Palace, three years ago. You asked me to find anything that might support your absurd theory—'
'Its not absurd.'
'Well, your unlikely theory, then, that Giles's death was—'
'Murder.'
'Suspiciously sudden. Anyway, I found this.' She almost pushed him aside in her eagerness. 'How did you get it?'
He raised an eyebrow. 'Secrets of the Wise, Claudia. Let's just say a friend in the
Academy went searching in the archives.' As he went to the windows she read the text eagerly.
.. As for the arrangement we spoke of before, it is unfortunate, but great changes often require great sacrifices. G has been kept aloof from others since his father died; the people's grief will be real but short-lived and we can contain it. It barely needs saying that your part will be beyond value to us. When my son is King I can promise you all I...
She hissed in annoyance. 'Is that it?'
'The Queen has always been very careful. We have at least seventeen people in the
Palace, but evidence for anything is rare.' He slid the last window down, closing out the stars. 'That took a lot of finding.'
'But it's so clear!' Eagerly she read it again. 'I mean ... grief will be real ... When my son is King ...'
As he came over and lit the lamp she looked up at him and her eyes were bright with excitement. 'Master, it proves she killed him. She murdered the King's Heir, the last of the
Havaarna dynasty, so that his half brother, her own son, could have the throne.'
For a moment he was still. Then the flame steadied and he looked up at her. Her heart sank. 'You don't think so.'
'I thought I taught you better than that, Claudia. Be rigorous in your argument. All this proves is that she intended her son to be King. Not that she did anything about it.'
'But this G—'
'Could be anyone with that initial.' Remorselessly he stared her down.
'You don't think that! You can't...'
'It's not what I think that matters, Claudia. If you make an accusation like this, you need proof so complete, there can be no question of any doubt.'
He eased himself into a chair and winced. 'The Prince died in a fall from his horse.
Doctors certified it. His body lay in state in the Great Hall of the Palace for three days.
Thousands filed past it. Your own father ...'
'She must have had him killed. She was jealous of him.'
'She never showed any sign of that. And the body was cremated. There's no way of telling now.' He sighed. 'Don't you see how this will look, Claudia? You'll just be a spoiled girl who doesn't like her arranged marriage and is willing to rake up any sort of scandal to get out of it.'
She snapped, 'I don't care! What—'
He sat up. 'Quiet!'
She froze. The fox cub was on its feet, ears pricked. A whisper of draft gusted under the door.
Instantly they both moved. Claudia was at the window in seconds, darkening the glass; turning, she saw Jared's fingers on the control panel for the sensors and alarms he had fitted on the stairs. Small red lights danced.
'What?' she whispered. 'What was it?'
For a moment he didn't answer. Then his voice was low. 'Something was there. Tiny.
Perhaps an eavesdropping device.'
Her heart thudded. 'My father?'
'Who knows? Maybe Lord Evian. Maybe Medlicote.'
They stood a long time in the dimness, listening. The night was still. Somewhere a distant dog barked. They could hear the faint baas of the sheep in the meadow beyond the moat, and an owl, hunting. After a while a rustle in the room told them the cub had curled back up to sleep. The candle guttered and went out. In the silence she said, 'I'm going into the study tomorrow. If I can't find out about Giles, at least I can learn something about Incarceron.'
'With him in the house ...'
'It's my last chance.'
Jared ran long fingers through his untidy hair. 'Claudia, you must go. We'll talk about this tomorrow.' Then all at once his face was white, his hands flat on the table. He leaned over and breathed hard.
She came around the telescope quietly. 'Master?'
'My medication. Please.'
She grabbed the candle, shook it back into light and cursed the Era for the hundredth time. 'Where ... I can't find it...'
'The blue box. By the astrolabe.'
She groped, grabbing pens, papers, books, the box. Inside was the small syringe and the ampules; fitting one on carefully, she brought it to him. 'Shall I ...?'
He smiled gently. 'No. I can manage.'
She brought the lamp closer; he rolled his sleeve up and she saw the innumerable scars around the vein. He made the injection carefully, the microinfuser barely touching the skin, and as he replaced it in the box, his voice was calm and steadier.
'Thank you, Claudia. And don't look so scared. This condition has been killing me for ten years and it's in no hurry. It will probably take another ten to finish me off.'
She couldn't smile. Times like this terrified her. She said, 'Shall I send someone ...?'
'No, no. I'll go to bed and sleep.' Handing her the candle, he said, 'Be careful how you go down the stairs.'
She nodded, reluctant, and crossed the room. At the door she stopped and turned. He stood as if he had been waiting for that, closing the box, the dark green of the Sapient coat with its high collar glinting with strange iridescence.
'Master, that letter. Do you know who it was written to?'
He looked up unhappily. 'Yes. And it makes it even more urgent that we get into his study.'
The candle flickered as she breathed in dismay. 'You mean ...'
'I'm afraid so, Claudia. The Queen's letter was addressed to your father.'
5
There was a man and his name was Sapphique. Where he came from is a mystery. Some say he was born of the Prison, grown from its stored components. Some say he came from Outside, because he alone of men returned there. Some say he was not a man at all, but a creature from those shining sparks lunatics see in dreams and name the stars. Some say he was a liar and a fool.
