All I know is if I ever find him again he’ll regret it.’
‘Unlikely to happen,’ Attia said heartlessly.
He glanced at her, his handsome face flushed. ‘And what about you? Always had a soft spot for poor old Finn, didn’t you?’
‘He saved my life.’
‘Twice. Once with my magic ring. Which I should still have, instead of it being wasted on you.’ She was silent. She was used to his scorn, and his moods.
He tolerated her because she was useful, and she stayed with him because if Finn came back, it would be to find Keiro. She had no illusions about that.
Gloomily, Keiro sank a mouthful of sour beer. ‘Look at me.
Skulking in the Ice Wing, when I should have been leading the old gang now, out on some raid, taking the chief’s share of the plunder. I beat Jormanric in a fair fight! I destroyed him. I had everything in my hands, and I let Finn persuade me to leave it. And what happens? He Escapes and I don’t.’ His disgust was real; Attia didn’t bother to remind him that she had tripped his opponent at the critical moment and won the fight for him. Instead she said, ‘Stop moping. We’ve got the Glove. At least let’s take a look at it.’ He was still a moment, then brought out the silk pouch from his pocket. He dangled it from one finger. ‘What a pretty little thing. I won’t ask how you found out where he kept it.’ She shuffled closer. If her guess had been wrong..
Carefully, Keiro opened the drawstring, tipped out a small dark crumpled object. He spread the thing out on his palm, and they stared at it in fascination.
It was extremely old. And very different from the gloves Rix had worn in his act.
For a start it was not made of fabric, but of some glistening, scaly skin, very soft and supple. Its colour was difficult to define; it seemed to shimmer and change between dark green and black and metallic grey. But it was certainly a glove.
The fingers were worn, and stiff, and the thumb had been repaired with a patch, sewn by ragged stitches. On the gauntlet were pinned a few metal objects, tiny images of a beetle and a wolf, and two swans linked by a fine chain. But most unexpected of all, the fingers of the Glove were tipped with ancient, ivory-yellow claws.
Keiro said wonderingly, ‘Is it really dragonskin?’
‘Could be snake.’ But she had never seen scales so fine and tough.
Slowly, Keiro took his own glove off. His hand was muscular and dirt’
‘Don’t,’ she said.
Sapphique’s Glove looked too small for him. It seemed to be made for a fine, delicate hand.
‘I’ve been waiting a lifetime.’ She knew he thought it would somehow change things, that wearing it might negate the components that were part of him, that if Finn came back through the Portal to fetch him he could follow, by wearing this. But Rix’s warning haunted her.
‘Keiro...’
‘Shut up, Attia.’ He opened the Glove. It crackled slightly and she smelt its fusty, ancient smell. But before he could slide his fingers in the horse raised its head and gave a sharp snort. Keiro froze.
Beyond the rigid waterfall the Ice Wing seemed dark and silent, deserted in its black night. As they listened they heard the low moan of the wind that gusted out there, a cold echo in the meltholes and glaciers of the abandoned landscape.
And then something else.
A chink of metal.
Keiro stamped on the fire; Attia dived behind a rock. There was no way of hiding the horse, but it stood quietly, as if it too sensed the danger.
With the flames gone the Prison’s night was blue and silver; the seamed currents of the waterfall twisted like grotesque marble.
‘See anything?’ Keiro squeezed in beside her, shoving the Glove into his shirt.
‘I thought so. Yes. There.’ A glint, out on the tundra. Aurora reflecting on steel. A flicker of torchlight.
Keiro swore. ‘Is it Rix?’
‘I don’t see how it can be Rix could never have caught up with them, not with the clumsy waggons. She narrowed her eyes and stared.
There was something out there. It lurched in the shadows.
As the light it carried flared up she glimpsed a grotesque creature, lumpy, as if it had many heads. It clanked, as if its body was made of chains. A thread of dread touched her spine. ‘What is that?’ Keiro was very still. ‘Something I hoped never to run into.’ His voice was drained of all bravado; glancing at him she saw only a flicker of his eyes.
It was making straight for them. Perhaps it could smell the horse, or sense the frozen water. The chinking became regular, as if the thing marched with military precision. As if its centipede legs were a legion.
Keiro said, ‘Get on the horse. Leave everything.’ The fear in his voice made her move without question. But the horse sensed it too, and it whinnied, loud in the silence.
The creature stopped. It whispered. It had many voices, and its heads turned, hydra-like, to each other. Then it began to lope raggedly, awkwardly, parts of it falling, being dragged, staggering up. It yelled and swore at itself, bunched in a dark bristling mass. Sword blades and flames gleamed in its hands. Green aurora flickered over it.
It was a Chain-gang.
Claudia stared at the boy. He straightened, saw her, and smiled, warmly. ‘Claudia! You’ve grown up so much. You look wonderful!’ He stepped towards her and before she could move or the guards could stop him he had taken her hand and kissed it, formally.
Astonished, she said, ‘Giles?’ Instantly there was uproar. The crowd buzzed with excitement, the soldiers looked to the Queen. Sia was standing absolutely still, as if thunderstruck; with an elegant movement she recovered, lifted her hand and waited for silence.
It came slowly. A guard banged his halberd on the floor.
The crowd hushed, but there were still whispers. The Sapienti glanced at each other; Claudia saw Finn stride forward and stare at the newcomer angrily. ‘What do you mean, “the real Giles”? I’m Giles.’ The stranger turned and looked at him as if he was dirt.
‘You, sir, are an escaped Prisoner and an imposter. I don’t know what malice lies behind your claims, but I can tell you they are certainly not true. I am the rightful Heir.’ He turned to the crowd. ‘And I’ve come to claim my inheritance.’ Before anyone else could speak the Queen said, ‘Enough!
Whoever you are, sir, you are certainly far too bold. I will hear this matter in private. My lords, please join us.’ Her pale eyes glanced at Finn. ’You, too, are entitled to hear.’ She turned, regally, and the Ambassadors and courtiers bowed low. Claudia grabbed Finn as he came past. He shook her off.
‘It can’t be him,’ she hissed. ‘Keep calm.’
‘Then why did you say that name? Why did you say that, Claudia!’ He sounded furious. She had no real answer.
‘I was … it was just the shock. He has to be a pretender.’
‘Does he?’ Finn’s glare was hard. Then he had turned and was striding swiftly through the crowd, one hand on his sword.
The room was in uproar. Claudia felt Jared grab her sleeve.
‘Come on,’ he hissed.
They hurried to the door of the Privy Chamber, pushing through the perfumed and bewigged mass of bodies, Claudia gasping breathlessly, ‘Who is he? Has the Queen set this up?’
‘If so she’s an excellent actress.’
‘Caspar hasn’t got the brains’
‘Certain metal animals then?’ She stared at him for a second, wide-eyed. Then the spears of the door-guards clashed in front of her.
Astonished, she said, ‘Let me through.’ A flustered footman murmured, ‘I’m sorry, my lady.
Sapienti and Privy Council only.’ He glanced at Jared. ‘You can enter, Master.’ Claudia drew herself up. For a moment Jared almost felt sorry for the man.
‘I am the Warden of Incarceron’s daughter: she said, in a voice that dripped ice. ‘You will stand aside now,
