Bending over the porter, he felt his pulse, and laid him gently on his side. The man was badly shocked and his hands were burnt but he would almost certainly live. Jared kicked the sword under the bed, then grabbed his pack and raced down the stairs. In the dark portico where the sunlight slanted through the stained-glass windows a tire- woman was hauling a basket of laundry from the Senior Sapient’s study. Jared paused. ‘Excuse me. I’m sorry. I’ve left a bit of a mess in my room, number fifty-six at the top. Do you think someone could clear it up?’ She looked at him, then nodded. ‘I’ll get someone. Master.’ The basket was obviously heavy and he wanted to tell her not to hurry, but the man needed help so he said, ‘Thank you,’ and turned away. He had to be careful. Who knows what other private arrangements the Queen had here?
In the stable the horses were sleepy, snuffling nosebags. He saddled his quickly, and then before mounting took the narrow syringe from its case and injected the medication into his arm, concentrating on breathing, on the ebbing of the pain in his chest.
He closed the case and leant a moment, giddy, on the animal’s warm flank; its long nose came round and nuzzled him.
One thing was sure. There would be no cure now He had had his only chance, and it was gone.
‘Read it Finn,’ said.
She read, her voice shaky.
‘My dear Claudia, Just a brief word. . .‘ As she said it her voice faltered and stopped because, as if she had activated it, the portrait came to life. Her father’s face turned to her and he spoke, his gaze as clear as if he really saw her.
It will be my last chance to contact you, I’m afraid.
Incarceron has become rather demanding in its ambition. It has drained almost all the power of the Keys, and awaits only Sapphique’s Glove.
‘The Glove,’ Finn muttered, and she said, ‘Father. . .‘ but the voice went on, calm and amused and recorded...
Your friend Keiro holds that. It will certainly be the final piece of the puzzle. I begin to feel that I have served my purpose, and that Incarceron has begun to realize it does not need a Warden any more. It’s really very ironic. Like the Sapienti of old, I have created a monster, and it has no loyalty.
He paused, and then the smile went, and he looked drawn. He said Guard the Portal, Claudia. The terrible cruelty of the Prison must not infect the Realm. If anything tries to come through, any person, any being, whoever it seems to be, you must destroy it. Incarceron is crafty, and I no longer know its plans.
He laughed a wintry laugh.
It seems you will be my successor after all.
His face froze.
She looked up at Finn. Far below, the viols and flutes and fiddles struck up the first merry dance of the Ball.
21
‘The fault is yours,’ the Enchanter said. ‘How could a Prison know of Escape but through your dreams? It would be best to give up the Glove.’ Sapphique shook his head. ‘Too late. It has grown into me now. How could I sing my songs without it?’
As they walked arm in arm along the terrace the crowding courtiers bowed and murmured. Fans fluttered. Eyes watched through the faces of demons, wolves, mermaids, storks.
‘Sapphique’s Glove,’ Finn muttered. ‘Keiro has Sapphique’s Glove.’ She could feel the charge of excitement through his arm. As if he had been shocked into some new hope.
Down the steps the flowerbeds were curves of twiit flowers. Beyond the formal gardens she could already see lit trails of lanterns over the lawns leading to the elaborate pinnacles of the Shell Grotto. Quickly she tugged him behind a vast urn noisily overflowing with water.
‘How could he have it?’
‘Who cares? If it’s real, it might do anything! Unless it’s some scam he’s playing.’
‘No.’ She watched the crowd, thronging under the lanterns.
‘Attia mentioned a glove. And then she stopped, very suddenly. As if Keiro wouldn’t let her say any more.’
‘Because it’s real!’ Finn paced the path, brushing phlox that released its sweet, clinging scent. ‘It really exists!’ Claudia said, ‘People are looking.’
‘I don’t care! Gildas would have been so horrified. He never trusted Keiro.’
‘But you do.’
‘I’ve told you. Always. How did he get hold of it? How is he going to use it?’ She gazed at the hundreds of courtiers, a mass of peacock dresses, gleaming satin coats, elaborate wigs of piled flaxen hair, They streamed into the pavilions and the grotto, their chatter loud and endless.
‘Perhaps this Glove was the power source Jared noticed.’
‘Yes!’ He leant against the urn, getting moss on his coat.
Behind the mask his eyes were bright with hope. Claudia felt only unease.
‘Finn. My father seems to think this Glove will complete Incarceron’s plan to Escape. That would be a disaster. Surely Keiro wouldn’t...’
‘You never know what Keiro will do.’
‘But would he do that? Would he give the Prison the means of destroying everyone in there, just so that he might Escape too?’ She had moved to stand right in front of him; he had to look at her.
‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure His voice was low and furious. ‘I know Keiro.’
‘You just said …’
‘Well … he wouldn’t do that.’ She shook her head, suddenly losing patience with his stupid, blind loyalty. ‘I don’t believe you. I think you’re afraid he will do it. I’m certain that Attia’s terrified of it. And you heard what my father said. Nothing — no one — must come through the Portal.’
‘Your father! He’s no more your father than I am.’
‘Shut up!’
‘And since when did you do what he says?’ Hot with anger, they faced each other, darkmask to catface.
‘I do what I want!’
‘But you’d believe him before Keiro?’
‘Yes,’ she spat. ‘I would. And before you, too:.’ For a second there was a hurt shock in his eyes; then they were cold. ‘You’d kill Keiro?’
‘If the Prison was using him. If I had to.’ He was very still. Then he hissed, ‘I thought you were different, Claudia. But you’re just as false and cruel and stupid as the rest of them.’ He walked into the crowd, shoved two men aside and, ignoring their protests, barged into the grotto.
Claudia stared after him, every muscle scorched with wrath. How dare he talk to her like that! If he wasn’t Giles he was just some Scum of the Prison, and she, despite facts, was the Warden’s daughter.
She gripped her hands, controlling the rage. It took a deep breath to get her heartbeat down; she wanted to yell and smash things, but instead she had to plaster on the smile and wait here till midnight.
And what then?
After this, would Finn even come with her?
A ripple passed through the crowd, a flurry of elaborate courtesies, and she saw Sia pass, in a diaphanous gown of flimsy white, her wig a towering construction of woven hair in which an armada of tiny gilt ships tossed and
