'Have you been spying on me, Professor?' she demanded, her fingers bloodless as they gripped the book. 'Did Lional put you up to this?'
He turned on Reg before she could speak. 'Don't. All right? Just don't. Let me handle this, all right?'
Reg closed her beak, fluffed up all her feathers, and retreated into sulky silence.
Hesitantly he took a step closer to the furious princess. 'Melissande, listen. Please. It's not what you think.'
Her chin came up. 'It isn't? So you didn't break into my office and go through my desk? My book just magically appeared out of thin air and dropped into your lap?'
'No, of course it didn't,' he said. 'You're right. I broke into your office and I went through your desk. But trust me, not for Lional!'
' Trust you?' She tossed the book back onto the table then wrestled her temper under control. 'AH right. Why, then? And I give you fair warning, if I don't like the answer you will be sorry'
I'm already sorry. 'It's like Reg said,' he told her, carefully. 'I need to get through to Monk and my crystal ball's not working.' 'So you thought you'd steal mine?' 'Borrow' 'It's only borrowing when you ask first!'
He risked a smile. 'Believe me, I wish I had. I didn't want to disturb you. Sorry'
She just looked at him, stony-faced. Clearly the smile wasn't working. 'Well, there's the ball. Use it and go.'
He nodded at the discarded textbook. 'I didn't realise there was a Witches' Academy here in New Ottosland.'
'There's not,' she said stiffly, arms folded. 'If you must know I'm doing a correspondence course with Madam Ravatinka's Exclusive School of Witchery. It was advertised in a back-issue of The Ottosland Express. And don't you dare sneer. You're a correspondence-course graduate yourself!' i wasn't going to sneer,' he protested. 'Are you any good?'
She unfolded her arms. 'I'm not bad. I've passed all my First Year tests. But so far it's just been theory. We don't start the practical stuff till next year.' Calmer now, she flicked him a sharp look. 'Gerald, did Lional really lie about your accident?'
The nearest chair was piled high with books. He shifted them to the floor, buying some time, and sat down. 'Go on,' said Reg. 'Tell her.' He sighed. 'Well…'
'For the love of Saint Snodgrass stop trying to protect me!' cried Melissande. 'I'm not a little girl, I'm — '
'A princess and a prime minister. I know,' he said. 'Melissande, I'm not trying to protect you.' Her eyes were scornful.'No?'
'All right. Perhaps I am. A bit. But I'm protecting me, too.' 'From what?'
'The consequences of unfounded accusations. Reg has a bee in her bonnet but I don't hear it buzzing. At least not very loudly. There's suspicion but no proof to back it up and until there is proof…' Troubled, he considered her. 'But leaving yesterday aside, it's likely things are going to heat up around here anyway. With the Kallarapi. 1 don't suppose you'd consider leaving? I could get you to the portal undetected. You could go and stay with Monk till the dust settles.' Melissande stared.'Leave? Run away, you mean.'
Reg clattered her beak. 'Run away, make a strategic withdrawal, charge in a backwards direction, make tracks, bugger off — does it matter what you call it? Just answer the question, ducky. If he gave you the chance would you scarper?'
'And if I did?' said Melissande, still staring. 'Who'd take over as prime minister? Rupert? He wouldn't last five seconds against Lional.'
True, true, lamentably true. 'You could take him with you.'
'Well that'd be nice and inconspicuous, wouldn't it?' said Melissande, rolling her eyes. 'Me, Rupert and five thousand butterflies all sneaking out of the country together. Because you'd never get him to leave them behind, you know. And I wouldn't leave him. If I was going. Which I'm not. Shocking as this may sound, Gerald, you aren't the only one around here who's sworn an oath and takes it seriously. Or do you think only wizards have a sense of honour?' Stung, he stood up.'Of course not.' 'So I guess that answers your question, doesn't it?' 'Yes. I guess it does.'
Reg cackled.'I'll give you this, ducky. You may have the deportment of a demented mongoose but you've got guts to go with it.' Melissande looked at her.'Thank you. I think.'
'More guts than sense is what you've got,' Gerald retorted.'If you'd give me some privacy I'll rustle up Monk, then Reg and I'll be on our way'
She shook her head. 'Whatever you have to say you can say in front of me. Unless it has nothing to do with New Ottosland.' Her eyebrows lifted; for a moment she looked like just Lional.'Has it?'
For a heartbeat he considered lying. For her own good, naturally. Then he discarded the idea. Not only would she probably not believe him, if she did then found out later he'd deceived her, well… 'Fine. On one condition: whatever gets said in this room stays in this room.'
She sighed. 'Naturally. Shocking as it sounds I do have a passing familiarity with discretion, Gerald.' Also with sarcasm. He nodded. 'Right.'
But when he tried to put the call through, nothing happened.
'Don't look at me,' said Melissande. 'It was working last night when I spoke to the Babishkian Minister for Trade about their last shipment of grooslok.Try it again.' Stomach churning, he tried it again. Still nothing.
'Maybe it's you,' said Melissande. 'You're concussed, that could — '
'No,' said Reg, frowning. 'It's not Gerald. The etheretic transductors have gone hinky' 'The what?' said Melissande blankly.
Reg looked down her beak. 'The etheretic transductors, ducky. The squillions of teeny tiny thaumaletic particles bumping around in the atmosphere acting as crystal ball carrier waves.' She sniffed. 'I hope you didn't pay a lot for this Madam Rinky Tinky's correspondence course. Because if she doesn't know enough to teach you about etheretic transductors, madam, I'd say you've done your dosh.'
'It's none of your business how much I paid,' said Melissande, colouring. 'And anyway, all that technical stuff isn't covered until next year.'
'Well, if this Madam Rinky Tinky doesn't know-enough to teach her First Year students about etheretic transductors, the dangers associated with, I'd be very surprised to learn she had any Second Year students on her books at all!' retorted Reg. 'In fact it's a wonder to me you haven't blown yourself to smithereens already!'
'I'll have you know,' Melissande said hotly, hands on hips, 'that Madam Ravatinka is a highly qualified expert and — '
She was interrupted by the sound of her apartment doors opening and an autocratic voice crying, 'Melissande? Where are you? Come out here immediately, I wish to talk to you!'
'LionalV whispered Melissande. 'Damn. If he finds you two here we're cooked. I'll get rid of him. Whatever you do don't make a sound or tonight the three of us will be sleeping in chains!'
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Heart thumping, Melissande plastered a welcoming expression onto her face, pulled the study door not quite closed behind her and shoved her hands into her pockets.'Good morning, Lional.'
Lional tossed the book he was perusing onto the floor. She tried not to wince as the cover loosened, spilling pages.'What took you so long?'
'Sorry. I was working.' She cleared her throat. 'Actually, I'm glad you're here. I need to make an urgent call on my crystal ball and it won't connect.'
'Why tell me?' said her difficult brother. 'I'm a king, not a crystal ball repairman. And I don't recall giving you permission to have a crystal ball in here while you're under house arrest.'
Oh, Saint Snodgrass. Give me strength… 'I may be under house arrest, Lional, but I'm still the prime minister. Who's going to shuffle the paperwork if I don't? Unless you'd like to fire me and appoint Rupert to the position instead?'
He frowned. 'Don't be ridiculous. Rupert is an idiot.' 'I rest my case.'
