curtsies, the men making elaborate bows and sweeping their hats off. Eyes fixed, Finn marched past. He scorned the pathways with their finely raked surfaces, cutting directly across the parterre, crunching the white seashells underfoot.
An indignant gardener came out from behind a hedge, but as soon as he saw it was Finn he crumpled to one knee. Finn allowed himself a cold smile. Being the Prince in this pretty Paradise had some advantages.
The day was perfect. Tiny fleecy clouds moved high in the sky, the amazingly blue sky he could never get used to. A flock of jackdaws cavorted over the elms near the lake.
It was the lake he wanted.
That smooth blue expanse of water drew him like a magnet. He undid the stiff collar they made him wear, tearing it open, cursing everything over and over: the constricting clothes, the baffling rules of courtesy, the endless Protocol. Suddenly he broke into a run, past statues and classical urns planted with floral displays, making a gaggle of geese on the grass squawk and flutter and hiss away.
He was breathing more freely now. The sparks and dull pain behind his eyes were easing. The fit had been coming on him, back there in that stuffy unbearable room, behind that heaped desk. It had been growing inside him like anger.
Maybe it was anger. Maybe he should have let it happen, fallen gratefully into it, the seizure that always waited for him somewhere like a black pit in the road. Because whatever it made him see, however much it hurt, after it was over he could sleep, deep and oblivious, without dreams of the Prison. Without dreams of Keiro, the oathbrother he had left there.
The lakewater rippled under the faint breeze. He shook his head, angry at how perfectly judged the temperature was, how serene it all looked. At the jetty rowing boats bobbed and knocked at the end of their ropes, surrounded by flat green waterlily leaves, where tiny gnats danced.
He had no idea how much of it was real.
At least in the Prison he had known that.
Finn sat on the grass. He felt worn, and his anger was turning on himself. The chamberlain had only been doing his best. Throwing the ink had been stupid.
Lying on his stomach he buried his forehead under his arms and let the warm sun comfort him. It was so hot, and so bright. He could take it now, but for the first few days Outside he had been blinded, had had to wear dark glasses because his eyes wept and watered. And then all those long weeks until his skin had lost that white pallor, those days of washing and delousing and the endless medication Jared had made him take. Weeks of patient lessons from Claudia in how to dress, how to talk, how to eat with knives and forks; the titles, the bows, how not to yell, spit, swear, fight.
Two months ago he had been a Prisoner without hope, a starved, ragged thief and liar. Now he was a Prince in Paradise.
And yet he had never been more unhappy.
A shadow darkened the red light behind his eyelids.
He kept them tight shut but the scent of the perfume she wore came to him clearly; the rustle of her dress was loud as she sat beside him on the low stone parapet.
After a moment he said, ‘The Maestra cursed me, did you know that?’ Claudia’s voice was cold. ‘No.’
‘Well she did. The Maestra, the woman whose death was my fault? I took the crystal Key from her. Her dying words were “I hope it destroys you”. I think her curse is coming true, Claudia.’ The silence went on so long that he raised his head and looked at her. She had her knees up under the peach silk dress and her arms hugged around them and she was watching him with that concerned, annoyed look he had come to know. ‘Finn...' He sat up. ‘Don’t! Don’t tell me I should forget the past.
Don’t tell me again that life here is a game, that every word you say and every smile, every gracious bow is a move in a game. I can’t live like that! I won’t.’ Claudia frowned. She saw the strain in his eyes. When the fits came he always had this look. She wanted to snap at him, but instead she made herself say quietly, ‘Are you all right?’ He shrugged. ‘It was coming. But it’s gone. I thought... I thought when I Escaped there would be no more fits. All those stupid documents. .
Claudia shook her head. ‘Not them. It’s Keiro again, isn’t it?’ Finn stared ahead. After a while he said, ‘Are you always this sharp?’ She laughed. ‘I’m the pupil of Jared Sapiens. Trained in observation and analysis. And,’ she added bitterly, ‘I’m the daughter of the Warden of Incarceron. The game’s finest player.’ He was surprised she had even mentioned her father. He pulled a blade of grass and began to shred it. ‘Well you’re right. I can’t stop thinking about Keiro. Keiro is my oathbrother, Claudia. We swore loyalty to each other, loyalty to death and beyond. You can’t even guess what that means.
In the Prison no one can survive alone; he looked after me when I didn’t even know who I was. He watched my back in a hundred fights. That time in the cave of the Beast he came back for me, even though he had the Key, even though he could have gone anywhere.’ Claudia was silent. Then she said, ‘I made him find you.
Don’t you remember?’
‘He would have done it anyway.’
‘Would he?’ She gazed over the lake. ‘From what I saw, Keiro was arrogant, ruthless and incredibly vain. You were the one who seemed to take all the risks. He only cared about himself.’
‘You don’t know him. You didn’t see him fight our Winglord. He was amazing that day. Keiro is my brother.
And I’ve left him in that hell, after I promised to get him Out’ A group of young men were strutting from the Archery Court. Claudia said, ‘It’s Caspar and his cronies. Quick.’ She jumped up and hauled one of the boats to shore; Finn stepped in and took the oars and she scrambled after him.
With a few strokes they were safely out in the stillness of the lake, the prow rippling among the lily-leaves. Butterflies danced in the warm air. Claudia lay back on the cushions and stared up at the sky. ‘Did he see us?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good.’ Finn watched the effete youths in disgust. Caspar’s red hair and gaudy blue frockcoat were clear from here. He was laughing; he raised his bow and aimed it at the boat, twanging the empty string with a mocking grin. Finn stared back grimly. ‘Between him and Keiro I know which brother I’d choose.’ Claudia shrugged. ‘Well I’m with you there. Remember, I nearly had to marry him.’ She let the memory of that day come back to her; the cold deliberate pleasure she had felt in tearing the wedding dress, ripping its lace and white perfection apart, as if it had been her life she was tearing, or herself and her father. Herself and Caspar.
‘You don’t need to marry him now,’ Finn said quietly.
They were silent then, as the oars dipped and splashed in the water. Claudia trailed her hand over the side, not looking at him. They both knew that she had been betrothed as a child to Prince Giles, and only when he had been presumed dead had Caspar, the younger prince, taken his place. But Finn was Giles now. She frowned.
‘Look...’ They both said it together. Claudia was first to laugh.
‘You first.’ He shrugged, not even smiling. ‘Look, Claudia, I don’t know who I am. If you thought getting me out of Incarceron would bring my memory back, you were wrong. I can’t remember any more than before — just flashes, visions that the fits bring. Jared’s potions haven’t made any difference He stopped rowing suddenly, letting the boat drift, leaning forward. ‘Don’t you see? I may not be the real prince. I may not be Giles, despite this.’ He held up his hand; she saw the faded tattoo of the crowned eagle. ‘And even if I am. . . I’ve changed.’ He struggled to get the words out. ‘Incarceron has changed me. I don’t fit in here. I can’t settle. How can Scum like me be what you want? I keep looking behind me. I keep thinking that a small red Eye is spying on me up in the sky.’ Dismayed, she watched him. He was right. She had thought it would be easy, had expected an ally, a friend. Not this tormented streetfighter who seemed to loathe himself, who spent hours gazing at the stars.
His face was drawn, his voice a low mutter. 'I can’t be the King,’ he whispered.
Claudia sat up. ‘I’ve told you. You have to. If you want the power to get Keiro out you have to!’ Angry, she turned and stared back at the lawns.
A gaudy gathering of courtiers was assembling. Two footmen carried a stack of gilt chairs, another was laden with cushions and croquet mallets. A sweating gang of underservants was propping a vast tasselled awning of yellow silk over trestle tables, and a procession of butlers and maids carried jellies, sweetmeats, cold capons, dainty pastries and jugs of iced punch on silver trays.
Claudia groaned. ‘The Queen’s buffet. I’d forgotten: Finn looked over. ‘I’m not going.’
‘Yes you are. Take the boat back in.’ She gave him a fierce hard look. ‘You have to keep it together, Finn.
