Bitterblue

understand that I owe you my gratitude,' she said to him.

'I like a fight,' he said shortly. 'Are we here for a reason?'

'I have news to tell you about my adviser Runnemood.'

'We know it,' said Saf.

'How?'

'When the Monsean Guard, the Queen's Guard, and the Lienid Door Guard are scouring the city for a queen's man who tried to have her killed, people tend to hear about it,' said Saf coldly.

'You always know more than I expect.'

'Don't condescend,' Saf snapped.

'I would very much like if we could talk,' she said tightly, 'rather than fight. Because you tend to know so much, I wonder what else you might be able to tell me about Runnemood. Namely, how much crime he's responsible for, why on earth he's doing it, and where he's gone. I've learned that he's the one who arranged to have you framed, Saf. What else can you tell me? Was he behind your stabbing, Teddy?'

'I've no idea, Lady Queen,' said Teddy. 'About that or about all the rest of the killing. It is a bit difficult to believe that one man could be behind it all, isn't it? We're talking about dozens of deaths in the last few years, and when I say that, I mean all kinds of victims. Not just thieves or other criminals like us; people whose greatest crime is teaching others to read.'

'Teaching others to read,' said Bitterblue desolately. 'Truly? Then you were hiding those reading lessons from me. It's dangerous for you to print them, I suppose? But I don't understand. Aren't people taught to read in the schools?'

'Oh, Lady Queen,' said Teddy, 'the city schools, with few exceptions, are in a shambles. The court- appointed teachers aren't qualified to teach. The children who can read are taught at home, or by people like me, or Bren or Tilda. History is also neglected—no one is taught Monsea's recent history.'

Bitterblue fought down a rising fury. 'As usual, I had no idea,' she said. 'And schooling in the city does fall under Runnemood's jurisdiction. But what can it mean? It almost seems like Runnemood took the policy of forward-thinkingness and ran completely amok with it. Why? What do we know of him? Who could have influenced him?'

Teddy reached into a pocket. 'That reminds me, Lady Queen. I made you a list again, in case you lost yours when you were attacked.'

'A list?'

'Of lords and ladies who stole most grievously for Leck's sake, Lady Queen. Remember?'

'Oh, yes,' said Bitterblue. 'Of course. Thank you. And Teddy, anything you can tell me to keep me appraised of the situation in the city will help me, do you understand? I can't see it from my tower,' she said. 'The truth of the lives of my people is never in any of the papers that cross my desk. Will you help me?'

'Of course, Lady Queen.'

'And the crown?' she asked, resting her eyes again on Saf's hard face.

He shrugged. 'I can't find Gray.'

'Are you looking?'

'Yes, I'm looking,' he said peevishly. 'It's not my biggest worry at the moment.'

'What worry could be greater?' she snapped at him.

'Oh, I don't know,' he said, 'perhaps your insane adviser who tried to kill me once and is now loose in the east city somewhere?'

'Find Gray,' Bitterblue ordered.

'Of course, Your Royal Majestic Highness.'

'Saf,' said Teddy quietly. 'Think about whether you're being fair when you continue to punish our Sparks.'

Saf turned and marched to the hanging, where he glared at the strange-haired lady with his arms crossed. And it took Bitterblue a moment to catch her breath, for she hadn't dreamed she'd ever be allowed to hear that name again.

After a moment, she said, 'Will you take a few of the books, then, Teddy?'

'We'll take them all,' Teddy said, 'every one, Lady Queen. But perhaps only two or three at a time, for Saf is right. I don't want to attract the wrong kinds of attention. I've had enough of fire.'

AFTER THEY'D GONE, Bitterblue sat for a few moments with Death's rewritten manuscripts, trying to decide which one to start next. When Death stumped along and waved a reread at her, she said, 'What is it about?'

'The artistic process, Lady Queen,' he said.

'Why did my father want me to read about the artistic process?'

'How should I know, Lady Queen? He was obsessed with art and his artists. Perhaps he wanted you to be too.'

'Obsessed?' she said. 'Really?'

'Lady Queen,' said Death, 'do you walk around the castle with your eyes closed?'

Bitterblue grasped her temples and counted to ten. 'Death,' she said, 'what would you say to my giving a few of these rewrites to a friend who has a printing press?'

Death blinked. 'Lady Queen,' he said, 'these manuscripts, like everything else in this library, are yours with which to do whatever you like.' He was silent for a moment. 'I can only hope that you'll find yourself wishing to give all of them to this friend.'

Bitterblue peered at him. 'I would like to keep the transfer secret,' she said, 'for my friend's sake, at least until Runnemood is found and all this mystery is cleared up. You'll keep the secret, won't you, Death?'

'Of course I will, Lady Queen,' said Death, clearly insulted by the question. He dumped the book about the artistic process onto the table and retreated in a huff.

* * * * *

'I'M WORRIED ABOUT Teddy and Saf,' Bitterblue said to Helda later. 'Would it be unreasonable to ask my Lienid Door Guard to spare a few men to keep an eye out for them?'

'Of course not, Lady Queen,' said Helda. 'They'd do anything you ask.'

'I know they'll do what I order. That doesn't make my order reasonable.'

'I meant they'll do it out of loyalty, of course, Lady Queen,' Helda chided her, 'not obligation. They worry about you and your worries. You realize that they're the reason I've always known about your sneaking out, don't you? They're the ones who always told me.'

Bitterblue absorbed this with some embarrassment. 'They weren't supposed to have recognized me.'

'They've been guarding you for eight years, Lady Queen,' said Helda. 'Do you really think they haven't learned your stance, your walk, your voice?'

I've walked past them countless times, Bitterblue thought, thinking of them as nothing more than bodies standing beside a door. Liking their presence because they look and sound like my mother. 'When will I truly wake up?'

'Lady Queen?'

'How much more is there that I'm not seeing, Helda?'

Bitterblue was in Helda's rooms because she wanted to take a look at all of the scarves Helda kept producing from the back of her wardrobe to hide Bitterblue's bruises. 'I don't understand,' Bitterblue went on as Helda pushed the doors open further, revealing shelves full of fabrics that slung little arrows of memory into Bitterblue's heart. 'I didn't know you had them. Why do you have them?'

'When I came to serve you, Lady Queen,' said Helda, pulling scarves out and handing them to Bitterblue to touch, to wonder at, 'I found that the servants assigned to the task had done rather an over-zealous cleaning of your mother's cabinets. King Ror had saved a few things he'd recognized as Lienid, like the scarves, and anything very valuable, Lady Queen. But the rest, her gowns, her coats, her shoes, were all gone. I took what was left. I put the jewelry in your chest, as you know, and decided to keep the scarves for you until you were older. I'm sorry it was the need to hide the marks of an attack that brought them to mind again, Lady Queen,' she added.

'But that's how memory works,' Bitterblue said quietly. 'Things disappear without your permission, then come back again without your permission.' And sometimes they came back incomplete and warped.

There was an aspect of memory that Bitterblue had been trying to come to terms with lately, one so hurtful that she had not managed yet to face it full on. Her memories of Ashen were a series of snippets. Many of them