“We have to get to the ruined castle.” Jus tightened hissword belt, settled Cinders properly in place, and then fastened a hand into Polk’s tunic and lifted the small man onto the driving seat of the cart.
“Why the castle?”
“The day’s wasting.” The Justicar began leading the way downthe road. He could feel his two companions staring at his back. “We have to getback to where I killed the hydra. If we’re not there by midnight, we’ll belate.”
Enid hurried along, drawing anxiously level with the Justicar. “Late? Whatever for?”
“To meet Escalla.” Jus felt a nasty inward glow ofsatisfaction at a secret well kept. “When she comes, she’ll be coming fast. Haveyou got her gear?”
Polk and Enid both sat in place. The cart stopped. The two travelers stared at Jus as he looked at them with an artfully raised brow.
Polk blinked like a stunned owl. “B-but she said she wasstaying with the faeries!”
“It was all a pack of lies! It’s what she does, Polk. Escallasays she owes it to future generations.” The big man pulled a coal from hispouch and popped it into Cinders’ mouth. He breathed deeply, filled with newenergy. Suddenly it seemed to be a brighter day.
“She’ll be escaping in a couple of hours. Come on! Looks likewe’ll be on the run from the whole Seelie Court.”
Cinders grinned like a mad piranha and energetically thumped his tail against Jus’ backside.
The Justicar marched down the road with a new energy in his step. Polk and Enid exchanged one brief glance of joy and then hastened after him.
“Son! Hey, son! But her father’s wishes! Ain’t you breaking alaw or something?”
“Law?” The Justicar walked onward, his face wreathed in asmile. “Polk, forced marriages are unjust.” The big man hitched his sword.“Don’t you remember? No one touches the faerie.”
Polk suddenly grinned, flicked out his reins, and drove happily off along the road.
“Hurry up, son! Quit yer dawdlin’, or we’ll be late!”
8
The morning dawned bright. It always did. Illusion spells sawto it, and if winter shadows seemed at odds with a summer sun, then a flick of the imagination whisked all one’s troubles away.
Escalla rose from her bed and felt the air flicker with spy spells as her mother’s agents kept a tight watch on their prey. The girl washedand dressed nicely in gray silk. The slowglass necklace had been thoughtfully placed to record her every movement in her sleep. Escalla looked levelly at the thing, then dropped it over her neck before turning to the business of the day.
She spent her first hour of the morning painting upon a papyrus-a painting rich with colors, if a little scant on skill. She propped itup to dry, paced agitatedly about the room, and then fluttered into the morning sun.
Mother awaited her on the lawns. They looked at one another-one lean and sculpted, the other lithe and sharp. Escalla’s mother finallyturned and signaled for her daughter to walk with her.
“You have been very curt with your betrothed. I expect you totreat him with more cordiality.”
“He wanted to sip something, but it wasn’t cordial.” Escallaproudly held up her hems as she stepped over the lawn. “Are you pimping me now,mother?”
The woman glared coldly at her daughter. “This clan has plansthat reach far beyond mere woods and fields and streams. Tielle realizes it, but the gods have cursed us with having to seal our deal through you.”
“Thank you, Mother. I love you, too.”
“Lord Ushan is still fighting the bargain. He wants none ofhis power lost to Clan Nightshade.” Escalla’s mother could have been talking tothe wind. “We need the nephew’s interest. Go to him tonight.”
“I will not.”
“You
“I’m sure you know the route.”
Escalla’s mother had given her birth-but merely to bind ClanNightshade’s lord to her in marriage. There was no love lost between mother anddaughter. In Escalla’s view, detonating her mother might be the best favor thatshe could ever do for her father.
The walk led about the house to the stables. A peculiar reek escaped the attention of faerie spellcasters, making Escalla frown. With her mind fixed upon her plans, Escalla’s mother scarcely seemed to care.
“Go to your old rooms tonight,” her mother said, “but mindyou don’t give him the whole cake! Enough of a nibble to prevent him wrigglingout of the marriage tomorrow. Men are always fools enough to be caught by the glands.”
Escalla gave a scornful sniff at her mother. “As I’m certainFather could tell me.”
At the stables, Tarquil stood admiring a prime young faerie dragon. Tarquil sketched a bow toward Escalla. Watched by her mother, Escalla gave the man an interested appraisal and a smile.
Mother approved. She retired from the field, leaving Escalla to turn away… and give a secret little smile.
By evening, Escalla’s preparations had been made. Her motherhad kept her well away from any spellbooks. Any attempt at magic would bring the spies running, and all the main gateways to the Flanaess were set with alarms. But to a creature who had grown up here, who had played here and languished through a frustrated adolescence right here in the palace, there were countless other secret doors.
As night fell, Escalla walked to a particular patch of orchids beside a pond filed with swans. She waved the illusions away and found a little patch of dandelions closing their petals to the slowly sinking sun. She plucked a flower and tucked it carefully into her cleavage.
Escalla had dressed with care. She wore her slowglass necklace to please her mother’s spies and wore a dress of white silk that fither like a second skin. She posed, feeling a shift in the air that told her that her mother’s invisible spy was pleased. With a last moment’s thought, she pickedup the little painting she had made that morning and tucked it underneath her arm.
The palace lay quiet-deliberately quiet. Mother had clearedthe way, using her own spells to shield Escalla’s tryst from view. Escallafluttered quietly onto her old balcony. Her sister’s room next door still showeda little gleam of light. Escalla sneered, then quietly sensed the way ahead for any spells.
From the gardens, Tarquil’s bodyguard saw her. The faeriegave an oily smirk and deliberately turned his back, hiding his view of the room and balcony. Escalla seethed then dropped lightly down to make her way into her own loved and hated haunts.
The room had been repainted but remained the same otherwise. A great arched mirror along one wall reflected the rock garden and a sumptuous bed. Lying face down, Tarquil seemed to be sleeping rather easily for a man about to be married, although the reek of alcohol in the room apparently told why. If anyone expected much activity from Tarquil tonight, they had sadly miscalculated.
Escalla looked at the figure sprawled unmoving on her old bed and gave a laugh of contempt. She hung her painting above the balcony door, looked at it, frowned, set it straight, then turned back to the bed. It was time to get to business.
Escalla hung her slowglass necklace from a door handle where it could overlook the bed. Mother must have her evidence!
Moving with a deliberate, slow sensuality, Escalla stripped away her outer clothes. She started with her gloves, doing a little dance for the inevitable audience. Next came her slippers, and then the dress. Finally, she stood in stockings and sheer underwear. She whipped the gauzy curtains closed over the balcony and walked sensuously over to the bed.
