me.’ Finn’s heart leapt. ‘Has he got the Portal to work? Has he found the Prison?’ He grabbed her arm. ‘Tell me!’
‘Let go of me.’ She shook him off. ‘I suppose you’re in a panic because of this Proclamation. It’s nothing, Finn. It means nothing.’ He scowled. ‘I keep telling you, Claudia. I won’t be King till I can find Keiro. . .’ Something snapped in her. Suddenly all she wanted to do was hurt him. ‘You never will,’ she said. ‘Don’t you realize that? Are you so stupid? And you can forget all your maps and searches because the Prison isn’t like that, Finn. It’s a world so small that you could crush it between your lingers like an ant and not even notice!’
‘What do you mean?’ He stared at her. There was a warning itch behind his eyes, a prickle of sweat on his back, but he ignored it. He caught her arm again and knew he was hurting her; furious, she flung him away.
He couldn’t breathe. 'What do you mean?’
‘It’s true! Incarceron is only huge from inside. The Sapient miniaturized it to some zillionth of a nanometer! That’s why no one comes or goes. That’s why we have no idea where it is. And you’d better get it into your head, Finn, because that’s why Keiro and Attia and the thousands of Prisoners in there will never come out. Never! There’s not enough power left in the whole world to do it, even if we knew how.’ Her words were dark black spots that flew at him. He beat them away. ‘It can’t be . . . you’re lying . . . ‘ She laughed, harshly. The silk of her dress crackled in the sun. Its brilliance stabbed him like a bright dagger. He rubbed a hand down his face and his skin was dry as paper.
‘Claudia,’ he said. But no sound came out.
She was talking. She was saying something hard and scathing and storming away from him, but it was all too far for him to hear now. It was behind the sparkling itchy shimmer that was rising around him, the familiar, dreaded heat that crumpled his knees and turned the world black, and all he could think of as he fell was that the cobbles were stone and that his forehead would smack against them and that he would lie in his own blood.
And then there were hands, grabbing him.
There was a forest and he fell from his horse into it.
And then there was nothing.
Jared said softly, ‘I believe the Queen is expecting me.’ The guardsman outside the Royal Apartments barely nodded. He turned and gave a smart rap on the door; it opened instantly, and a footman in a coat as blue as the feathers had been stepped out.
‘Master Sapient. Please follow me.’ Jared obeyed, wondering at the amount of powder on the man’s wig. There was so much that it had dusted his shoulders with a faint greyness like ash. Claudia would have been amused. He tried to smile about it, but his nervousness tightened the muscles of his face, and he knew he was pale and scared. A Sapient should be calm. In the Academy they had taught techniques of detachment. He wished he could concentrate on them now.
The Royal Apartments were vast. He was led down a corridor frescoed on each side with murals of fish, so lifelike that it was like walking underwater. Even the light through the high windows was a filtered green. After that came a blue room painted with birds and a room with a carpet as yellow and soft as desert sand, with palm trees growing out of it in elaborate urns. To his relief he was ushered past the entrance of the Great State Chamber; he had not been in there since the terrible morning of Claudia’s non-wedding, and he didn’t want to. It brought back memories of how the Warden had looked at him through the crowd. He shivered even now to think of it.
The footman paused before a padded door and opened it, bowing low. ‘Please wait here, Master. Her Majesty will be with you shortly.’ He stepped in. The door closed with a soft click. Like a muffled trap.
The room was small and intimate. Upholstered sofas faced each other across a wide stone hearth where an enormous bowl of roses stood, flanked by sconces in the shape of eagles. Sunlight poured through the high windows.
Jared wandered to one of them.
Wide lawns lay beyond. Bees buzzed in archways of honeysuckle. The voices of croquet players laughed from the nearby gardens. He wondered if the game was quite in Era.
The Queen tended to pick and choose what pleased her.
Threading his hands together nervously, he turned away and walked to the fireplace.
The room was warm and faintly stuffy, as if rarely used.
The furniture smelt musty.
Wishing he could loosen his collar, he made himself sit down.
At once, as if she had been waiting for just that, the door opened and the Queen glided in. Jared jumped up.
‘Master Jared. Thank you so much for coming.'
‘My pleasure, Madam.’ He bowed, and she made a graceful curtsy. She still wore the shepherdess costume; he noticed a wilting bunch of violets tucked in her belt.
Sia missed nothing, including his glance. She gave her silvery laugh and dropped the flowers on to the table. ‘Dear Caspar. Always so thoughtful to his mama.’ She lounged on one sofa and pointed to the other. ‘Please sit, Master. Let’s not be too formal He sat, his back upright.
‘A drink?’
‘No. Thank you.’
‘You look a little too pale, Jared. Are you getting enough fresh air?’
‘I’m quite well, thank you, Your Majesty.’ He kept his voice steady. She was playing with him. He thought of her as a cat, a mischevious white cat toying with the mouse it will eventually kill with one clawed blow. She smiled. Her curiously light eyes gazed at him.
‘I’m afraid that isn’t quite true, is it? But let’s talk about your search. What progress have you made?’ He shook his head. ‘Very little. The Portal is badly damaged. I fear it may be beyond repair.’ He did not say anything about the Warden’s study at home, nor did she ask.
Only he and Claudia knew that the Portal was identical in both places. He had ridden there weeks ago to check it. It was exactly the same as here. ‘However, something happened today that I did not expect.’
‘Oh?’ He told her about the feather. ‘The replication was extraordinary. But I have no way of knowing whether anything happened in the Prison. Since the Warden took both Keys with him we have no communication with the Inmates.’
‘I see. And have you come any closer to finding Incarceron’s actual location?’ He moved slightly, feeling the watch’s heavy tick against his chest. ‘I’m afraid not.’
‘Such a pity! We know so little.’ What would she do if she knew he carried it in his pocket?
Stamp on it with her white-heeled shoes?
‘Lady Claudia and I have decided we must visit the Academy.’ He surprised himself by his assured tone. ‘The records of the making of the Prison may be there among the Esoterica. Perhaps there will be diagrams, equations.’ He paused, aware that he was perilously close to infringing Protocol. But Sia’s gaze was on her neat fingernails.
‘You will go,’ she said. ‘But not Claudia.’ Jared frowned. ‘But ...'.
She lifted her eyes and smiled at him sweetly, full in his face. ‘Master, how many more years does your physician think you will live?’ He breathed in sharply. He felt as if she had stabbed him, a bitter resentment that she could ask him, a cold dread of answering. His hands shook.
Glancing down, he tried to speak steadily, but his voice sounded strange to himself.
‘Two years. At most.’
‘I am so very sorry.’ She did not take her eyes off him. ‘And you agree with him?’ He shrugged, hating her pity. ‘I think he is a little optimistic.’ She made a small pout with her red lips. Then she said, ‘Of course, we are all the victims of fate and destiny. For example, if there had never been the Years of Rage, the great war, the Protocol, a cure for even your rare condition would certainly have been available years ago. Research then was extensive. Or so I gather.’ He stared at her, his skin prickling, sensing danger.
The Queen sighed. She poured out wine into a crystal cup and settled back with it, curling her legs under her up on to the sofa. ‘And you are so young, Master Jared. Barely thirty I understand?’ He managed to nod.
‘And a brilliant scholar. Such a loss to the Realm. And dear Claudia! How will she bear it?’ Her cruelty astounded him. Her voice was silken and sad; she ran one long finger thoughtfully round the rim of the cup. ‘And the pain you will have to bear,’ she said softly.
‘Knowing that soon no medicine will help, that you will lie helpless and ill, day after long day sinking further
