The Spy Princess

by Sherwood Smith

  “We’ve been over this ground before,” Peitar said. “Has something new occurred?”

  “Two reports from the capital. From the palace, as it happens. Neither of these contacts knows the other, but their reports came on the same day—and concerned the same events.”

  “About my family’s trip to Miraleste?”

  “Yes,” Derek answered. “One overheard a command to the city captain for garrison space for incoming regiments next month. The other intercepted a written command to one of Irad’s minor moons—”

  “Moons?” Peitar sounded like he was smiling.

  “Tasenja was the name.”

  Tasenja? I didn’t know any Tasenjas, but many nobles didn’t bring their children to court until they were Peitar’s age.

  “Ah,” Peitar said. “A northern family, not powerful, but dedicated, and wealthy. Go on.”

  “He was ordered to produce his son for a betrothal.”

  Peitar’s voice dropped; I could barely hear him, so I crept closer. “A betrothal? How does this relate to the uprising?”

  “Because there’s apparently to be a big military review as part of the festivities,” Derek said. “Don’t you see? It’s an excuse to cram Miraleste with warriors, who can squash any signs of unrest.”

  “I . . . see. Yes, I think you are right. My uncle would certainly never exert himself for a series of social events. He hates balls and parties even worse than I. So, what must I do?”

  “First, find out if your fox-faced little sister likes the prospect of a big party—”

  I snorted. Then remembered I wasn’t even supposed to be hearing the conversation.

  “Fox is right.” Peitar laughed. “And I believe she just flushed a pair of rabbits.”

  I backed hastily out of the tunnel, used to Peitar’s inability to maneuver. But I had forgotten about Derek. Strong hands clamped down on my shoulders, and he marched me to where Peitar sat in a low chair, his bad leg extended before him. A single candle on a small carved table lit his rueful smile.

  Peitar said, “You know what would have happened to you if you’d been a spy?”

  My temper flared. “You and your ‘safety’! Being so condescending and making me more curious with every word! It’s your fault, not mine, that you’re so easy to follow! And what crime did I commit anyway, besides the terrible offense of being young? Which you were when you met Derek.”

  “You’re right. Ah, I did slip up that time, didn’t I?” His tone was bitter, aimed not at me but at himself.

  My anger vanished. “It’s all right. I followed you on purpose. And I made sure no one followed me. Or saw me, since I’m supposed to be sick.”

  Peitar rubbed his eyes. “If only I could get down the garden entrance! This fountain one is far too open.”

  Derek was silent during this exchange, elbows on knees, gaze unwavering.

  He said, “Peitar, you’re just going to have to use the garden, however long it takes you. As for Lilah . . .” He paused.

  The pause lengthened into a silence. I finally dared another glance, to see Derek staring at the candle like the flame was in another world. “Black wool and ambition.” He clapped his hands on his knees. “You remind me of an adventurous kid I met on my travels.”

  “Kid?”

  “Her word for everybody under adult age. My point is, people of any age must choose freedom for themselves and cooperate in their own government! People of any age have worthy skills as well as loyalties.”

  Kid, I thought. I like that!

  Peitar asked slowly, “Cooperate in their own government with no example of how to go about it? Derek—”

  Derek waved his hand. “Never mind! We’ll discuss it another time. What I’m trying to say is, I learned never to underestimate kids.”

  Peitar grimaced faintly. I could tell he hated the idea of kids in revolutions.

  “I think we ought to figure her in our plans—and it might just help.” Derek turned to me. Now I understood why Bren, Deon, and the others so admired him. “Lilah. Do you want to be part of changing life for the better for everyone? Even if it might mean giving up your high rank and all your fine things?”

  “Yes! Who cares about fancy dresses and going to court? I sure don’t!”

  “Are you going to tell Bren and the others who you are?”

  I thought about what the village kids had said about nobles—especially the Selenna family. “No.”

  “Good. Probably safest. But be careful. Bren has a very sharp eye, and he finds things out. It’s why I put him at the garrison. Peitar, I’ll do my best to be back within a week. There are some questions I must answer for myself.”

  He rose from his chair and left, swift and silent.

  I snuffed the candle and followed Peitar through the room under the fountain to the other tunnel, which was longer, mossier, and danker.

  When we reached the end, we found Derek climbing stone steps carved so steeply into the rough wall that they were almost a ladder. He pushed at something, and greenish light shafted down as he hoisted himself out. My brother slowly and painfully negotiated the first few steps, then handed his crutch up and continued climbing, his breathing harsh. As soon as Peitar was in reach, Derek gripped his hand.

  Derek strained to haul him out. I can’t do that, I thought. I’m not even strong enough to pull up someone my own size, much less Peitar. How am I really going to help?

  “Lilah.” Peitar’s voice was hoarse. “Quick.”

  I lost no time in scrambling up the ladder. Derek had already disappeared. As soon as I was out, Peitar used his crutch to lever something that closed with a muffled thump: a trapdoor. “Learn this place,” he murmured.

  We were inside a circle of tangled, thorny shrubbery. The trapdoor was hidden by the moss and ferns beside a distinctively shaped stone. Tucked under the stone was a twine handle to pull open the door.

  “Hoo,” I breathed, as he struggled to his feet. “I love this!”

  “Now for the brambles,” he warned. I pushed ahead, holding aside the worst branches. The shrubbery seemed solid when I looked back, and within a few paces I recognized where we were in the garden.

  “We’ll part here. I’ll go the front way. If you have occasion to use this tunnel again, never use the same route to and from it.”

  “Are all the servants spies, besides Father’s valet? Not Lizana, I know,” I asked, looking around carefully.

  “All Father’s personal servants share his views,” my brother said. “I don’t know that I’d call them spies. But if they see something they know he wouldn’t like, they would consider it their duty to report it, and I find I cannot quarrel with that in theory, however much I regret it in practice.”

  I sighed. Typical Peitar, always thinking of everyone else first.

  “Lizana isn’t certain about one or two of the new kitchen help. The few servants left from Mother’s day will turn a blind eye to anything they see us doing, if they possibly can. But listen—I can’t put any of them at risk by revealing anything about Derek or his plans. Lizana . . . is different.”

  “Why?”

  “If she wants to tell you, she will.” He gave me an apologetic look. “It’s her business to tell, not mine. You should know she’s to be trusted. Also, she and Derek are old friends. She introduced us, in fact.”

  Peitar headed slowly down the path. I took a shortcut through the trees and scrambled up to my room, my skirts as usual doing their best to hinder me.

  Once inside, I was impatient to write up what I’d heard. But, remembering Derek’s and Peitar’s warnings, I tiptoed to the door to make certain I was safe—and everything winkled out of my head when I saw Lizana’s worried face as she bustled downstairs.

  six

  What was wrong? I peered over the carved railing. Two f
ootmen, as well as Father’s valet, crossed the foyer to Father’s rooms. As soon as they were out of sight, Peitar appeared in the foyer, breathless from effort, and came upstairs as fast as he could.

  More confused than ever, I trailed him to the rooms that he had had before the accident. He closed the door, sat down, and tied a stocking carefully around the bottom of his crutch. “Keeps me quiet in this passage. I don’t use it often. Almost got caught a few years ago when Father threatened to have the walls torn out in order to search for rats.”

  Then he opened the wardrobe, pushed past the old clothes hung neatly at either side, and pressed a knothole. The entire back of the closet slid into the wall, revealing—another passage!

  He wormed his fingers under a pile of folded blankets, pulled out a palm-sized glass sphere, and whispered a word. The sphere glowed with blue-white light. An extra glowglobe! Holding it high with his free hand, he led the way.

  Even with the glowglobe, it was difficult to see. There was a very narrow stairway to negotiate and then two sharp turns. We must have been at the back of the house under the guest chambers, just outside my father’s library.

  One more corner, then Peitar said something under his breath, and we were in darkness. My eyes adjusted to a faint line of golden light.

  It turned out to be a gap in the back of one of the bookshelves, just above my own eye level, though Peitar could see.

  “. . . I do not know, Your Highness. He says he’s on a secret mission for you.” It was the head steward.

  “I never sent anyone on a secret mission. What do I have to be secret about? Are you certain he named me as his master?”

  “Well, Your Highness, he did in a, ah, metaphorical sense.”

  “Stop talking twaddle and bring this fool in to me. Now! Get moving!”

  Footsteps, and then, “You!” Father exclaimed. “I should have had you hanged years ago! Well, you’ll hang tonight.”

  “Hail to you too, Prince Gobble,” came a familiar, laughing voice—Derek!

  “Why do you keep spying around my home? My valet swears he’s seen you here before. Do you know someone in the household?”

  Derek laughed again. “If I did, do you think I’d be lurking around? I wanted to see for myself just how well off you are, in contrast to the families starving in Riveredge.”

  “Who are you spying for?”

  “No one. I wish to become a voice of conscience, and that means I have to look where the power lies, don’t I? The Selennas are the oldest family in the entire country. Older even than the ruling Irads. You wanted to marry an Irad princess, so you permitted the king to tax your guilds on top of your own taxes. Not that it affects you. It’s the people of Selenna who pay.”

  “You’re as ignorant as you are arrogant,” Father snapped.

  “Why, Your Highness! You care what a commoner thinks? Your face is as red as the strawberries I stole on my last visit to your overstocked garden. Why isn’t some of that food going to Riveredge?”

  Father said nastily, “I won’t hang you tonight. I think the king might like some sport first. You there! Ride to Miraleste and find out if His Majesty wants this spy. Tell him it’s the Diamagan rat. Be back by morning.” There were the sounds of someone departing. “And you. Take this fool to the old treasure room and lock him up. Post two at the door, fully armed.”

  The narrow ray of light illuminated Peitar’s sudden, surprising smile. He nudged me, and we left. As soon as we were back in his old rooms, I checked outside. No one was there.

  Peitar sank into his armchair, forehead beaded with sweat. “Don’t fret. Father has just ensured Derek’s escape.”

  “Another passage?”

  “Yes. This house, as well as the palace, is full of ’em. One can tell how trusting our ancestors were of one another.”

  “The palace, too? How did you find secret passages?”

  “Mother told me about this one,” he said, surprising me again. “It was our secret together, after my accident. She discovered it. She used to scout the ones at the palace when she was small, too.”

  “But this house is where Father grew up. Why doesn’t he know about them?”

  “When Mother asked, he said he’d only heard of one, and his grandfather had had it walled up a long time ago. Father’s never been interested in creeping down dusty corridors or knocking on walls.”

  “So Mother loved secret passages,” I exclaimed in delight.

  Peitar went on. “After Mother died, I discovered I had a knack for finding them—it has to do with seeing how spaces fit together. The toughest part is finding the release mechanisms. Some are obvious. Others, you really have to search for. I’m about to give you your first dangerous job, Lilah. You’ll have to be the one to let Derek out. The passage is too steep and twists too much for me.”

  I couldn’t wait. “Where is it?”

  “The library.” Peitar removed the stocking from the bottom of his crutch. “Wear dark colors so no one sees you. The release is the lower right-hand brick in the fireplace.” He went on to describe the passage very carefully so I would know just what to expect. “Avoid treading on the last step until you are both in the passage, or one of you will be left inside the treasure room, and there is no way to open it from the inside. Then hide him in your room. Lizana will take him from there—she says she has a plan.”

  “When should I go?”

  “Soon as night falls. He can get away then, especially if it rains as threatened.” He leaned over to tuck the stocking in a drawer.

  At last I was getting answers! I hurried to another question. What is ‘black wool and ambition’?”

  “I knew you’d ask that. An adventure that befell Derek and Bernal—his brother—when someone captured boys and girls with the idea of training them up to do evil things. It changed his mind about including kids in his plans.”

  “So, what about—”

  “Shh.” Peitar raised a hand.

  We heard our father on the landing. Peitar motioned, and I dove under the bed.

  The door opened, and Father said, “Peitar? There you are. What are you doing up here?”

  “Sorting my boyhood books, looking for—”

  “Will you join me for the midday meal?”

  “I’m happy to oblige, Father. But I’m not really hungry. Can we not meet for dinner in our customary manner?”

  “Very well.”

  Father left, and I crawled out from under the bed and made for my room.

  Lizana was there, straightening the bed things. Peitar had told me to trust her. I took a deep breath and said, “Peitar says that you’re in on our plan to rescue Derek. Peitar told me about the secret passage to the old treasure room. It goes through Father’s study.”

  “Ah. That was the first one your mother found, not long after we came here,” Lizana said. She looked grim. “He was caught on my account. I will not sleep easy until he’s on his way.”

  As soon as she was gone, I opened my window. Big drops of rain spattered my face, warm and wet. It would be a big help if the storm made a lot of noise.

  I sat down to write up the day’s adventures. By the time I was done, the sky had turned a threatening purple-gray, and the thunder was much nearer. Lightning flashed off to the west.

  Once again time crawled. When the dinner bell rang at last, I changed into my dark blue nightgown and opened my door. From Father’s formal dining room came his and Peitar’s voices and the ring of crystal.

  My father’s mealtime ritual was old-fashioned. First, he and Peitar would sit in the library, over wine. Then they’d go to the dining room.

  On the way downstairs, I rehearsed a reason to be in the library in case I was caught—I’d say I wanted to read a family history. Father was proud of the Selennas and our past. No one was posted by the double do
ors to my father’s wing. He clearly wasn’t worried Derek might escape.

  I slipped inside the library and quietly closed the door. Just in case, I selected a book and laid it down near the fireplace. Then, after double-checking, I pressed the lower right-hand brick.

  Thunder covered the faint graunch of heavy stone and metal. I snatched a candle from one of the candelabra, lit it with the sparker, and ducked into the space behind the grating. When I trod on the first step of the hidden staircase, the stone gave, and I almost lost my balance. The fireplace slid closed behind me.

  I carefully made my way down the steps, which were narrow and uneven, made scarier by the flickering of the candle. When I stepped on the bottom step, it sank, and with a low rumble the wall before me slid open.

  Derek’s eyes widened in surprise. Experienced spy that he was, he said nothing.

  He was seated on the stone floor, his hands and feet tightly bound by curtain cords. I knelt and set the candle down, nervous giggles bubbling inside me. Curtain cords!

  I wrestled with the knots until Derek wrenched free on his own, rubbing at his wrists and wincing. He untied his feet, then picked up the cords. I took the candle, whispering, “Use the second step,” as I motioned him inside the passage. When I put my weight on the first stone, the wall slid closed.

  Then we started upward. “Thank you,” he murmured, close to my ear.

  “It’s Peitar and Lizana’s plan,” I whispered back, delighted it was working. If this was the worst danger I ever faced—well, I could do it forever!

  At the top, I peered through the opening. The library was empty.

  We were soon inside. I closed the passage, snuffed and replaced the candle, picked up my book, and sprang to the doors. The way to the grand staircase seemed impossibly open and exposed. From the dining room came the sound of my brother’s voice, blabbing away gamely. Father laughed once. A rare sound.