“Righty-o! It probably would be easier on Pebbles and them if I waited until morning to become a crow. So, I'll just wing back up to the ol' nest box and break the news to Pebbles and the chicks. If anyone needs me, you all know where to find me.” And with that, he sprang into flight and swept out of the hall.
Minuet sighed and looked at Herio. “I hope you don't mind having Hubba Hubba along. He's a bit full of himself at times, but his boasts aren't really unfounded. He's been invaluable to both Rose and Lukus as well as to Father in some pretty tight spots and I, for one, would feel relieved if you accept his assistance.”
“Certainly. I gratefully accept Hubba Hubba's aid and companionship, my Queen. He and I are already chums. I would indeed feel better with him along.”
“Good. Then, if we find Pebbles willing, it's settled. For now,” she said as she rose to her feet, “I believe it's indeed time to adjourn.”
***
Demonica stared out at the snow through the finger streaks on the misted glass. It was snowing much more heavily now, in small driving flakes. She banged her fist on the sill and pushed away from the window to pace about the room. “There's no escaping it,” she said as she paused to straighten the corner of a rug with her toe, “lovely as it is, the Heart is next to useless for my purposes if I don't know what I'm doing with it. I have to get my hands on the First Wizard's grimorie, and that's that. And Spitemorta, bless her heart, is starting to chafe now that she's gone and ruined her army. She pestered me again this morning about putting the Heart and the Staff together, just as she did yesterday evening. Kiez bihan.”
She shuddered. It seemed to be getting colder. She went to the hearth, stirred the coals and threw on some splinters. As they burst into flame, she added sticks. She sat on her haunches watching the fire take hold. She added three good sized chunks of wood, stood up and turned away from the fire to resume pacing. “Kiez bihan,” she said.
Over by the window she stopped short at the sight of the orange glint from the fire in her scrying globe, sitting on it's stand. “Skinweleriou. Hey, it's the perfect time for that! That'll keep the little kiez busy.” She bounced up and down, nodding with bright-eyed glee. “I'll go back to Arabat Enez right away and see how many skinweleriou Budog and Mazhev have managed to squeeze out of Smole since I was there. Once she's preoccupied with telling her subjects and Goll's neighbors what to think, I'll have a lot more time to find the grimoire.” She threw back her head for a triumphant laugh as she gathered her skirts and sailed for the door. She found Spitemorta viciously scolding a serving boy for sloshing out a mere spot of goat's milk onto the tray he had just set beside her. At the sight of Demonica, she grabbed him by the ear and gave him a merciless slap, sending him scuttling out with a red hand print across his cheek.
“Just how am I to see to my help with you barging in here?” said Spitemorta from between clenched teeth.
“Did anyone ever tell you, dear, that fits of anger are a sign of loss of control?” said Demonica with a cool smile. “However if the need to thrust your power upon that child in order to feel in charge of your realm overrides hearing what I have to say, by all means have the whelp drug back and I shall return at once to Head to attend my own affairs. However, if you wish to discuss some real power, perhaps you could postpone impressing children with what little you have until after I've had my say.”
“What?” said Spitemorta, switching suddenly from keen resentment to urgent curiosity. “What is it?”
“Oh, nothing huge just yet,” said Demonica, lightly running her fingertips along the back of a chair as she waltzed behind it. “I just remembered that my people in Head should have a good quantity of skinweleriou ready for us at my keep by now. I ought to go get them, don't you think? I mean, the sooner we have them sold to the people of Goll and start selling them to Goll's allies and even to her enemies, the better.”
“Yes. Of course. I must reach my subjects at once, before Niarg has time to do anything. We must completely discredit Auntie Minuet and Grandfather Razzmorten.”
“And how about an army, dear? Wouldn't you want to raise one of those?”
“By all means,” she said, going wide eyed as though she had forgotten all about such a thing as an army.
“Then you agree that I should leave at once for the skinweleriou?”
“Immediately. Yes. Do you need me to go with you?”
“No, that won't be necessary dear. You'd better stay here and keep your subjects happy. I'll be back before you know it. Besides, I'm sure you can keep yourself entertained 'til I return. You've not paid your darling husband a visit lately, have you? You could start with that.”
“No, I haven't at all Grandmother. But why should I?”
“I don't know dear. You do remember about Abaddon, don't you?”
“Just what are you saying?”
“Why nothing, dear. I know you've been busy. It's just that things do happen to prisoners in dungeons sometimes, you know. It isn't a healthy place...”
“So? I chose to put him there.”
“Well, you might want to find out where Abaddon is before the rats eat him, is all I'm saying.”
“I thought you determined that James doesn't know where Abaddon is. You used the Heart.”
“Of course,” said Demonica smoothly, “and since he knew nothing, I suggested killing him. Wasn't it you who wanted him alive in case he held the key to Abaddon's discovery in spite of all that? Then again, maybe it's best if Abaddon stays wherever he is.”
“And just what's that supposed to mean?”
“Well dear, your darling child betrayed you to James. It was your imp of a son who told James all about you.”
“No!” barked Spitemorta. “Abaddon loves me! He'd never turn against me and side with James! If he told anything, then James tricked him into it. He's only a little boy, after all.”
“If you say so. Do as you think best, though I suggest you do give it a bit of serious thought first, is all. It doesn't matter to me, either way.”
“You bet it doesn't! You've never had a single twitch of maternal feeling in your entire life.”
“Well, no big twitches anyway, but at least it's spared me from the kinds of blind maneuvers which get you killed.”
“Yes. Always thinking about you first, aren't you?”
“Exactly like you.”
“I've had to. No one else ever would.”
“Clarity at last.”
“You need to go Grandmother,” said Spitemorta as though jostled from a daydream. “We've a continent to conquer.”
“Absolutely,” said Demonica with a nod, as she turned and left the room.
***
“Hey you ones. I'm back,” said Hubba Hubba as he landed and shook his feathers outside of their nest box.
Squeals and cheeps stirred within, and Pebbles met him at the hole with a nibbling preen down the neck. “You've certainly been gone long enough,” she said. “What all went on at Minuet's meeting?”
Hubba Hubba ran his beak down a flight feather on each side, gave each wing a snap and climbed through the hole to hunker down beside her. “Well, nothing's happened yet, ye know,” he said. “Minuet couldn't see much when she scried Castle Goll. Of course, no one was surprised by Spitemorta and Demonica putting up protections.”
“That's what she told me she thought would happen,” said Pebbles as she lunged and bit the foot of a chick who had playfully clambered onto Hubba Hubba's back.
“Yea. Well, they decided that we'd better find a way to get information out of Goll before they attack Niarg again or something.”
“Certainly.”
“So they're sending Herio...”
“That's just crazy.”
“Not really. He sounds like someone from Goll...”
“But he's just a kid. He'll get killed. Why don't they send an adult?”
“Well, that's why they're sending me with him...”
“They what?”
“Well, Herio more than sounds like Go
ll, he'd fit right in with all the men killed. And you're right, he's just a kid. So that's when I volunteered to go spy for Niarg...”
“You'll get yourself killed!” said Pebbles with a squawk as she grabbed a beakful of Hubba Hubba's cheek feathers and gave them a good scolding shake.
“I told Minuet that you'd agree, 'cause you don't want to live under the dark rule of those witches any more than the rest of us,” he said miserably. “I know it's tough, but I was a-doin' it for you.”
Pebbles opened and shut her beak unable to reply. “You're right,” she said at last. “I don't. And I don't want our little snappers to live that way either, but why must you go? Oh yea. You said he'd fit right in with all the men killed, but why you?”
“I'm the adult. And I can fly back and forth...and I know my witches...”
“And you're a dandy target with your yellow head.”
“That's what Minuet said...”
“And she sent you anyway?”
“Well she didn't want to, but Razzmorten agreed to turn me back into a crow...”
“But you absolutely hated being a crow.”
“Yea, but I'd hate far more being lorded over by Ugleeuh's mother and Ugleeuh's daughter. I remember what it was like being Ugleeuh's prisoner. Pebbles, I want more for our little snappers and us than slavery.”
“Oh, I agree. I just...I just don't want to lose you like Minuet lost Hebraun.”
“Yea. I don't want to lose me either.”
Pebbles's little heart ached as she shook her head. She rattled her beak through a few feathers behind his eye.
“I know there's a risk,” he said, “but I swear I'll be careful. I'll come back to you. I promise.”
“If you don't,” she said, her beak still full of his feathers, “I'll kill those witches myself.”
Chapter 108
Spitemorta smiled wolfishly, thinking of her most recent address to her subjects as she rolled her skinweler around in her lap in front of her melon of a belly. She could hardly wait for Demonica to return from Head with more of them so that she could spread her influence further into the surrounding lands. She rose with a grunt and stumped to the window, holding her hands to the small of her back and stood looking out at the courtyard below, her mind awhirl with plans. Suddenly she was interrupted by a vigorous fluttering from within. As the smile of motherhood bloomed on her face, she gently rubbed her belly only to drop her hands away at the thought of Abaddon. “Damn him!” she said, yanking the red velvet drapes across the window at the thought of James. She immediately turned on her heel and headed for the dungeon.
***
James sat against the wall of his cell in the dusty black dark, listless with despair. It had been days upon days since the young guard had brought him roast beef and a promise. “Spitemorta or Demonica must have got him by now,” he groaned as he rolled his head from side to side against the stones at his back. “I hate hope! If I'm ever stupid enough to think I'll not rot in here just like the last dead man in this foul hole, it will surely kill me.” He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He knew it would be hours upon hours before he would fall asleep. Sleep never came when he wanted it. He only found himself waking up from it with pains in his spine at odd times when he had no way at all of measuring by anything.
The door! How could he not have heard them coming? He should have, for he was certain that he had not drifted off to sleep. “Ah!” he cried with a wince, as he threw up his hands to protect his eyes from the light. A white-hot seizure of hope and fear washed through him. Then the sound of Spitemorta's voice from behind the torches made him squeeze shut his eyes as he clamped his teeth. He slumped back against the wall.
“Give me a flame,” she said. “You two can step back out and shut the door. Just leave it unlatched. He's spineless enough. I doubt that he'll be any trouble.”
The guards backed out as she took a torch and slowly minced her way a few steps over the straw as though she were watching out for manure. She held up the light and peered. “Well,” she said, as if she had found someone familiar to sit by at a church supper. “It appears that we have the right cell. You sure make it stink in here, James.”
“Then you must not have any grasp of what I must do to while away the time. Now wait. Since you bring it to my attention, I do believe that the part of it which is outright putrid came in with you.”
Spitemorta stepped up and furiously kicked him in the ribs, doubling him over. She threw back her head, laughing out at the sight of him rolling his forehead down in the filthy straw. “Idiot,” she said. “You have such a time grasping who is in the position of power.”
“So! Demonica left, did she? Have a falling out?”
“Why no,” she said politely, as she reined in her wrath. “She's merely back at Head checking on some new skinweleriou she's just had made. She'll be right back. Do you miss her, James?”
“Absolutely. I miss every bit of her imposing rottenness,” he said with a groan as he rolled onto his side and slowly sat up.
“Then I'll be sure to convey your sentiments when she returns. Now shall we set aside these pleasantries? I did come here for a reason, after all...”
“Well make it quick, if you would. All this chit chat is keeping me from more important things.”
“My word! And what important things can you possibly be involved with, locked away in this foul cell?”
“A fellow has a right keep some things to himself, even if he is a prisoner...”
“And some things he has no right to at all, James, which is the very reason I'm here. I want you to reconsider telling me where Abaddon is. If you do, I just might be persuaded to make life easier for you.”
“How? By arranging for a nice drawing and quartering for me instead of waiting for me to die in here?”
“You like it in here? Vermin have a better life, James.”
“Without a doubt. They get to feed on me instead of me feeding on them.”
“You certainly have squalid aspirations. So you want a quick death?”
“I can't tell you any part of what you want to know, Spitemorta. And what I might want has nothing to do with it. I've already told you and your vile grandmother the entire truth. I've no idea under the shining sun where he is, but that doesn't matter since I would die rather than tell you, if I did. And I certainly don't expect you to grasp which I'm doing. But there's something I can tell you: I may rue what's in store for our twins since I can see that I'll never be able to save them from the twisted upbringing they'll get from you, but at least I'll have the satisfaction of knowing that Abaddon is safe from any more of your influence.”
“I'd kill you for that remark if I didn't know that it would spare you more suffering, James.”
“I've no doubt of that. Now good day...if day it be.”
“I'll leave when I'm ready, James. You claim that Abaddon said that I approved of the things Samuel was teaching him. Whatever did you do to him to wring such a confession from him?”
“You seriously think I made him tell me about you and your henchman? You're worried about this?”
“Samuel has never been my 'henchman', James. And yes, I'm quite certain that you did. I mean, he never cared one bit for you...”
“No, not one bit, Spitemorta. You made sure of that, didn't you? Binding him to you and telling him things every chance you got to make certain that he lost his respect and his love for me. You think I was blind to it all?”
“So? A mother needs to be in control, James. Besides, you're a weakling. If it weren't so, would you be in this position? Do you think I could stand by and have him follow in your footsteps?”
“No more than I could allow him to continue taking on your evil ways, sweetheart,” he said as he sat back against the wall where she had found him and closed his eyes. He chuckled quietly. “It looks like we both get our wishes, with him gone and out of the reach of both of us.”
Spitemorta made no reply at all, and with a fistful of skirts in one hand and h
er sputtering torch in the other, turned for the door which was opened for her without comment by the guards at the sight of her approaching light. The door went shut with a clang. James could hear voices on the far side of it, as lock and hasp were rattled and snapped. He shuddered and then gave a resigned sigh.
***
Abaddon crumbled up his piece of acorn bread, stirred it into the last of his mast porridge with a small dollop of honey for good measure and ate every last bit. He looked up suddenly to find Celeste, Alvita and Nacea silently studying him from across the table.
He frowned hatefully at their smiles and turned away, throwing his leg over the bench.
“Now beth the tyme to ga the treen for to seith in the north ketil,” said Celeste as she stood up with a nod at Abaddon. “Longbark and the ootheres awayten us.”
As everyone stood and made ready to leave, Lance handed Abaddon his sweater and waist.
“Who is this Longbark?” said Abaddon, looking askance at Celeste as he took his wraps. “Is he another stinking Fairy, or what? This is about me, isn't it? I'm not going to like this, am I...?”
“Oh, I doubt it, based on what I've seen out of you,” said Lance, buttoning a couple of buttons as he followed after Celeste, Alvita and Nacea. “Now, just tell me Abby, what do these Fairies smell like to you, aye?”
“You're trying to get me to feel bad about saying they stink.”
“Well, you ought to.”
“I'm not some stupid knave like you. I don't have to feel bad. You're the one who ought to feel bad. Besides, you stole me away, and you're going to die for it.”
“You know Abby, I was a few years older than you, but I was feeling wretched and very blue. And at the very moment when I thought I could stand no more, Alvita scooped me into her arms and gave me a big hug. You know what she smelt like?”
“Why would I care?”
“Some big tough prince like you wouldn't of course, but she smelt like pie dough and fresh sliced apples, and kind o' woodsy and faintly like smoke from the hearth, but she sure made me feel better. I really needed her hug and she saw that I did, so she gave it to me...”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 119