bit his tongue at what he found in the last. 'Reg!' 'You've found it? Excellent!'
'No,' he said, and held up a book bound in dimpled red leather.'But I found this!'
'Gerald,' said Reg severely. 'We don't have time for reading!'
'It's a textbook,' he said, flipping open the cover. 'Monk's sister Emmerabiblia's got the same one. Melissande's been studying witchcraft!'
'So she's got a hobby! At least it's not butterflies! Now is that crystal ball in here or not?'
'Not,' he said, tucking the textbook under his arm.
'Maybe she took it with her when Lional locked her in her apartments,' said Reg. 'We'd better go and ask her.'
'How can we ask her? Guard, lock and key, remember?'
'So we get rid of the guard, unlock the doors and then we ask her.' 'I don't know which part of the palace she lives in.'
Reg groaned. 'That bang on the head really rattled your marbles, didn't it? You've got her textbook, haven't you? Use it!'
Oh. Right. Feeling like an idiot he spread his fingers flat against the book's cover and closed his eyes.'Locatio Melissande anuxi.' An answering tingle of energy ran through his hand. The book quivered and tugged. 'All set,' he said, and headed for the door. 'Let's go.'
Melissande's suite of rooms was four staircases and three corridors away from her office. The good news was that only one guard stood sentinel. The bad news was that he was young and athletic. But if the expression on his face was anything to go by he was also bored to sobs and therefore not inclined to be a martyr to his job. Back to good again.
Reg nipped Gerald's ear. 'Come on, then. Get rid of him.'
Ducking back around the corner before the guard noticed them, Gerald shoved the book under one arm and wrestled with his conscience. He wasn't going to hurt the man, not really. Creating an illusion of discomfort wasn't the same as actually hurting someone. And it was in a good cause. An excellent cause. If the guard knew how he was helping his kingdom he'd probably volunteer.
Reg bounced on his shoulder. 'Gerald] What are you waiting for?'
He took a deep breath and peered around the corner. The guard was still there, scratching his armpit. Softly, Gerald let out his held breath and with it the hex a very tipsy Monk had once invented as a practical joke.
'What's happening, what's happening?' Reg demanded. 'Shh,' he hissed. 'Any second now…'
The guard, who had short black hair, pimples and an impressive pair of biceps, stopped looking bored and started looking puzzled. After a moment puzzlement grew to unease. He began to shift himself from one foot to the other and back again as his brows knitted tighter and his hands bunched into fists.
Half a minute later he was trying to cross his legs without falling over. Half a minute after that he uttered an anguished moan and fled.
'Right!' With Reg clinging to his shoulder Gerald rushed to the double doors of Melissande's apartments, opened them, eased through the gap and locked them again. Then he turned to see exactly where they were.
Reg groaned. 'Oh my deary gracious me. What is this, a boudoir or a second-hand bookshop?'
'Well technically, Reg, it's a foyer… but I know what you mean. Blimey!'
Floor to ceiling, from one side of the room to the other, the walls were lined with bookshelves, and the bookshelves were crammed with books. Thick books, thin books, yellow and red and brown and blue books, old books and new. They were piled on the floor as well, little towers of books listing alarmingly to port and starboard. Somewhere beneath all the clutter were a few scattered rugs, faded and threadbare. Reg sneezed. 'That girl is beyond redemption!'
The girl in question walked through an open doorway on the far side of the foyer, head down and nose in a book as she came.
Reg sneezed again. 'You really weren't joking when you said you didn't want to get married! Well I don't think you've got too much to worry about, ducky.This lot's better than a chastity belt!'
Melissande's head snapped up and she froze mid-stride. ' Youl How did you two get in? You didn't do something awful to Ronnie, did you?'
Gerald hid the textbook behind his back. If she'd just turn around for a moment he could stick it on a pile with some others and she'd never know he'd had it… 'Ronnie? You mean the guard?'
'No, the pot plant in the corner. Of course the guard. What have you done with him?' 'You're on first-name terms with your guard?'
'Please. He's two months younger than I am and we've known each other all our lives. Now stop trying to weasel out of answering the question! Did you do something awful to him?'
He managed a weak smile. 'That would depend on your definition of awful.' 'Tentacles and exploding boils leap to mind.'
'Nothing of the kind!' he said, offended. 'What kind of a wizard do you think I am? I just made him think he needed to answer a call of nature.'
As Reg cackled her amusement, Melissande snorted.'Very creative of you. Juvenile, but creative. The nearest loo is two floors away. What do you want?'
'Your crystal ball,' said Reg. 'Ours is on the blink and we need to reach Markham.'
'Who?' said Melissande, then held up a hand.'No. I remember.' She shuddered. 'Unfortunately. All right. It's in the study. Just because I'm locked up doesn't mean I don't have work to do.' She stepped aside and with a sweep of her arm indicated the doorway she'd just walked through.'After you.'
Damn. So much for surreptitiously ditching the textbook. He waited for Reg to fly through the open doorway then finagled his way past the princess, who followed him in and headed straight for a paperwork-cluttered table in the middle of the study. This room, like the foyer, was stuffed to the gills with books.
'Nice to see you've kept the motif going,' observed Reg as she landed on the back of a ratty old armchair piled high with leather-bound tomes. 'Very thematic'
Melissande looked up from tidying the mess, frowning. 'Are you here to use my crystal ball or give me interior decorating advice?'
'I can do both,' said Reg, scratching her head. 'It's no skin off my beak, ducky' She peered around the room suspiciously.'Where's that Boris?'
'Out. Just because I'm a prisoner there's no need for him to be one as well.'
Reg sniffed.'Typical. Bloody cats. Wouldn't know the meaning of loyalty if it bit them on the bum.'
'So. Gerald,' said Melissande, pointedly ignoring Reg as she sorted through the clutter. 'Why do you want to get hold of Markham so urgently?'
Taking advantage of her distraction he shoved the textbook into the general disorder and took a step back. 'Oh. Ah. I need a second opinion.'
'If it's to do with your bird I'll give you — ha!' With a pleased smile Melissande unearthed the crystal ball from beneath a tumbled pile of ledgers. 'No. It's nothing to do with Reg.'
'What, then?' she said, polishing the crystal ball with her sleeve. 'Has something else happened I should know about?' What she doesn't know can't hurt her. 'Ah — no.'
She looked at him, eyes narrowing behind those unflattering glasses.'Gerald?'
'Why don't you ask him how he's feeling?' said Reg, all spurious sweetness. 'Mere hours ago he was writhing on a bed of pain… or had you forgotten?'
Melissandes cheeks coloured. 'Sorry. Of course. How are you feeling, Gerald?' 'I'm fine. Starving to death, but fine.'
'Now ask him what really happened yesterday' Reg added.
Exasperated, Melissande planted her hands on her hips.'What are you talking about?' 'In a nutshell? Your pretty brother lied, ducky'
Melissande laughed, and started to make more space for the crystal ball. 'Don't be ridiculous! Lional's the king. He doesn't need to lie. If you don't mind I've got a lot of work to do, so call Markham and — ' 'Oh,' said Gerald.'Ah — I can explain that.'
She'd noticed the pilfered textbook. 'I left this in my office,' she said, picking it up. 'At the bottom of a locked drawer.' Damn, damn, damn. 'Your Highness — '
