by Terry Brooks
She nodded. “Fine. I just didn’t sleep much.”
He studied her doubtfully. “It looks to me like it might be something more than that.” He pushed back his stool and got to his feet. “I’m going to ask His Eminence to have you assigned back into the Stacks for today, at least. You can begin your punishment in the stables tomorrow.”
He was out of the room and down the hallway before she could object.
To his credit, Thom got the job done. His Eminence seemed unconcerned that the punishment was to be postponed, agreeing without argument to let Ellice work with her brother in the Stacks so that Thom could make certain she was all right. Mistaya was grateful for the reprieve and told him so. She even went so far as to give him a hug. Thom was a better friend than she deserved, she decided. After all, he wasn’t hiding things from her the way she was hiding them from him.
“Have you been thinking about the voice?” he asked her at one point as they toiled over the cataloging.
She was thinking of nothing else, of course, but not in the way he was. Mostly, she was wondering if her plan was working and the Throg Monkeys were still carrying the missing books of magic back out of Abaddon as she had ordered them to. There was no way she could check on this now; she would have to wait for tonight, when Dirk could go with her. But that didn’t stop her from worrying over the possibility that her efforts had failed.
“I’ve thought about it,” she admitted.
“Good. So have I. When do we do something? When do we go back into the Stacks?”
She shook her head. This was not a conversation she wanted to have just yet. “I don’t know. When I’m feeling better, I guess.”
“Pinch was sick all yesterday and again today. He can’t seem to get out of his bed. Maybe that’s what you’ve got.” Thom paused, glancing around. “If you feel well enough, we should try again tonight.”
That was the last thing she wanted, but she couldn’t tell him so. “Let’s talk about it later,” she suggested finally, and went back to work feeling inexplicably guilty.
When it was finally time to quit, Mistaya was so exhausted that she could only just manage to eat a little of her dinner before announcing to Thom that she was off to bed. Because of her obvious exhaustion he was quick to tell her that they would talk about their plans for returning to the forbidden regions of the Stacks later on. He offered to help her to her room, but she insisted she could get there on her own, a task that turned out to be just manageable.
She slept without waking or dreaming until something soft touched her face, and she woke with a start. Her bedside candle was still burning, if barely, or she wouldn’t have been able to make out Edgewood Dirk seated next to her, whiskers brushing her cheeks as he washed himself. She blinked and tried to sit up, but failed.
Dirk jumped down from the bed and walked to the door. “Coming, Princess? It is already after midnight.”
She didn’t know what time it was and she didn’t care. All she wanted to do at this point was go back to sleep. But at the same time she realized the importance of finding out what was happening in the Stacks and in the cavern down in Abaddon. She needed to know whether her magic was working on the Throg Monkeys.
So she climbed from the bed, still wearing the clothing she had fallen asleep in, pulled on her boots, and followed the Prism Cat out the door. They didn’t say a word to each other as they walked down the hallway to the library and entered the Stacks. Mistaya was too tired for conversation. Dirk, taciturn as usual, sauntered on with no apparent concern for whether she was keeping up or even following. She found herself thinking how bizarre it was that she was trailing after a talking cat in a library filled with something called Throg Monkeys in search of stolen books of magic, and she wondered how Rhonda Masterson, were she there, would feel about doing something like that. Some things, she guessed, were best left to the imagination.
She was suddenly, inexplicably homesick. She missed Sterling Silver and her mother and father and Questor Thews and Abernathy and all the other creatures that were so much a part of her life. If she could have made a wish that would have taken her home at that very moment, she would have seized it with both hands.
But she was stuck with things as they were, so she pushed the feeling aside and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. She couldn’t help thinking as she did so that all this was much tougher than she had imagined. She wished she could do more using her magic, but it was too dangerous. It was risky enough using magic to deceive the Throg Monkeys. Attempting anything more would almost certainly give her away.
Once they had gotten deeper into the Stacks, she began seeing her unsuspecting accomplices. They crept down the aisles and through the shadows like gnarled wraiths, their arms loaded with books. To her delight, they were carrying the books away from Abaddon. Apparently her plan was still working.
“I need to go back down to that cavern to see how far they’ve gotten,” she told Dirk.
The cat nodded wordlessly, and she left him at the entrance and passed through the breach in the wall. Was she imagining things or was the hole getting smaller? She stared at the rough edges, trying to remember how they had looked the day before. Larger and more jagged, she thought. She hadn’t heard the building’s voice for a while, either, an indication that it wasn’t as desperate for help as it had been. Perhaps because that help had been given? By her? She smiled to herself, liking the idea and feeling good about the possibility that she had helped it come to pass.
The passageway leading down to the cavern where the books were stored was empty as she descended. She was only yards from the opening in the wall before she passed the first of the Throg Monkeys she had seen since starting down, a group of three, all with arms laden. She caught a glimpse of titles on the spines, some containing the word magic in bold print, so she had her proof that things were going as intended. She was surprised at how easy this had been, how simple the solution to the problem.
At the opening in the wall, she crawled out onto the rock shelf, taking care to crouch as she did so, still not entirely convinced that she couldn’t be seen. Edgewood Dirk could promise to shield her, but there were counter spells that could undo his efforts. She knew that much from her time studying with Questor.
When she peered down, she was excited to discover that the shelves that had held all the stolen books were virtually unchanged. Wolves continued to patrol the perimeter and winged sentries still flew overhead while some of the black-cloaked figures walked among the books and others chanted spells from the book with the red leather cover. No one seemed to notice that anything was wrong. Perhaps they didn’t know the difference between magic and farming, she thought, muffling the urge to laugh. She could see the Throg Monkeys watching these wraiths, avoiding them whenever possible. Now and then, one of the little monsters would snatch a book furtively from the shelves, replace it with one it was carrying, and edge away from the tally takers until it was able to slip up the stairway unnoticed.
Her plan was working! She wanted to shout it aloud, but managed to restrain herself.
How much longer would it be until all of the books were replaced? How many more books were there? She couldn’t think of any way to find out that didn’t involve her going down into the cavern and having a closer look. That seemed too risky, even if she was supposed to be invisible. She could ask the Throg Monkeys, perhaps. Or she could wait until they were no longer bringing books back out of Abaddon. That way she would know they were all safely spirited away.
Would that be enough to close the hole in the library wall, or was something more needed?
She stayed where she was for a little longer, reading what she could into what she was seeing. Finally, unable to determine anything more, she turned away and crept up the steps to the hole and back into the Stacks.
Edgewood Dirk was waiting, sitting on his haunches and studying her. “Is your plan working?” he asked.
“I think so. But what should we do about the hole in the wall? Can we close it over?”
“Then we need to make sure that it all stops, don’t we? We need to do something about His Eminence and Pinch.”
The cat hesitated. He arched his back in a long stretch, his fur shimmering with a strange, silvery glow. “Perhaps you should leave that to Ben Holiday and his companions. They seem more suited to that sort of work.”
“But I started this and I want to finish it!” she insisted. “I know how to be careful.”
The Prism Cat gave her a long, steady look that suggested he might be weighing the merits of this assertion. Then, his interest in the subject exhausted, he turned away and started back down the aisle toward the front of the room. “Time to go back to sleep,” he called over his shoulder. “We can discuss this further tomorrow.”
She thought it a reasonable suggestion, even though she was already certain that she wasn’t going to change her mind no matter what sort of arguments he mounted. This was her chance to make up for Carrington, her opportunity to prove herself to her parents. Once she had restored Libiris and exposed His Eminence and Pinch, they could no longer deny her request to remain in Landover and to take charge of her future. She would be allowed to continue her studies with Questor and Abernathy. She would be accepted as an equal and no longer treated as a child.
The trek back through the stacks was endless. Mistaya was bone-weary and muddle-headed from lack of sleep, and she could barely manage to put one foot ahead of the other. If Edgewood Dirk noticed or cared, he was not giving evidence of it. He minced along ahead of her, a cat on its way to someplace of its own choosing. She might have been wallpaper for all the difference she made to him.
Somewhere along the way, he simply disappeared. She barely noticed, her thoughts only on getting to bed and going to sleep. Shouldn’t be any problem tonight, she thought with a smile. Nothing would keep her awake after this.
Taking a quick look up and down the hallway before she did so, she opened the door to her room and stepped inside.
She knew immediately that something was wrong.
“Taking a nighttime stroll, Princess?” she heard His Eminence ask her from the darkness.
Then she caught a whiff of something bitter and raw, and she tumbled away into blackness.
SADLY MISTAKEN
When Mistaya came awake again, she was lying on a straw pallet in a dark, windowless room with only a single candle sitting on the floor beside her for light. She had a splitting headache, but otherwise she felt all right. She lay without moving for long moments while her eyes adjusted, trying to remember exactly what had happened to her. When she did remember, she wished she hadn’t.
A figure moved out of the darkness, coming over from another part of the room to sit on the bed beside her. She flinched involuntarily and hunched her shoulders, frightened that it was His Eminence or Rufus Pinch. But when she saw Thom’s worried face, she exhaled sharply in relief.
“Are you all right?” he asked her, leaning close, his voice a whisper.
She nodded. “Are we alone?”
He nodded back. “But they might be listening.”
“They brought you here, too?”
“Actually, they brought me here first, then you.”
She tried to lift one arm to rub her pounding head, but her hands were surprisingly heavy. When she glanced down to find out why, she saw that they were encased in what looked like clouds of swirling mist that completely hid them from view.
“What’s happened to me?” she gasped, shaking them wildly, struggling to free them. “Who did this?”
“His Eminence.” Thom put his hands on her arms to quiet her. “No, don’t. Not yet. Stay still. Your hands are bound with magic so that you can’t work spells. If you try to free them, you will only hurt yourself.”
She stopped thrashing and stared at him. “He knows everything, doesn’t he? He knows who I am. I heard him call me by name before I passed out. What did he use on me?”
Thom shook his head. “A spell. He had me frozen in place with another one so that I couldn’t do anything to help. He’s a much more accomplished wizard than we gave him credit for. And, yes, he knows who you are.”
She gave a long sigh and lay back. “So now you know, too.”
He smiled. “Oh, I knew who you were all along. Right from the moment I saw you standing in the doorway.” He laughed softly when he saw the look on her face. “I told you I saw you when I was at court all those years ago, when you were just a child. You looked different then, but you had the same eyes. No one could ever mistake those eyes.”
To her horror, she found herself blushing. Her face turned hot, and it was only the darkness that hid her reaction. “You must have gotten closer to me than I would have thought possible for a servant.”
He shrugged. “Other things gave you away, as well. Your hands are too soft for a village girl’s. Also, you are too well spoken, and you’ve had training in how to carry yourself.”
“You seem awfully well informed about Princesses.”
“Not really. I just pay attention to things.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”
He seemed to consider. “I’m not sure. Once I had you here, I didn’t want you to leave. I wasn’t making that up, you know. I was afraid that if I told you I knew you were Mistaya Holiday, it would change the nature of our relationship and you might decide you had to go. It just seemed easier to go on pretending I believed you to be who you said you were.” He paused. “I actually do have a sister named Ellice, but she’s much older than you.”
She grimaced. “I don’t know whether to be angry with you or not. I guess I’m not. It just feels funny, knowing I was pretending with you for nothing.”
“We were both pretending. It was a game. But there wasn’t any harm done. Except now that it’s out in the open that you’re a Princess, I’m afraid you might not want to have anything more to do with me.”
She laughed despite herself. “It doesn’t much matter what I want at this point, does it? I’m a prisoner of His Eminence, and so are you. We can’t pretend much of anything now. What do you think he plans to do with us?”
Thom shook his head. “I don’t know. He didn’t say. He brought me here and left me, and a little later he brought you here, too.”
“If he knows who I am, and he’s keeping me prisoner anyway, then we are in a lot of trouble. He can’t be planning anything good for either of us if he’s willing to risk all that.”
“No, I don’t suppose so.”
“This is all my fault,” she declared, sitting up next to him, resting her mist-encased hands in her lap. She was already trying to think of a spell that would free her from the bindings, running through the lessons she had studied under Questor’s tutelage. “If I’d stayed in my room instead of going back into the Stacks, none of this would have happened. I was so stupid it makes me want to scream.”
“So that’s where you were. I came looking for you earlier, but you weren’t in your room.”
“I didn’t want to tell you,” she admitted, giving him a rueful smile. “I’m sorry about that. I wish that I had.”
“It isn’t too late for you to do so now, is it?” he asked.
She smiled and proceeded to tell him everything she had been keeping from him. She even told him about Edgewood Dirk, despite her promise to the cat. It was necessary, she reasoned, given her present situation.
She had kept so much from him, she told Thom, because she was worried about involving him further.
“Also, I was worried about the same things you were,” she added. “I thought it would change how you felt about me, and I didn’t want you not to be my friend.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Funny that we were both so worried when there was no reason for it.”
“Funny peculiar,” she agreed, just managing to meet his gaze. Then s
he looked quickly away. “Anyway, I messed up.”
He looked away. “Maybe I was the one who messed up. Your getting caught might not have been your fault. It might have been mine. If I hadn’t come to your room looking for you and then gone prowling around out in the Stacks, His Eminence might not have caught me and found out about you.”
“Well, it doesn’t much matter now. It’s over and done with, and we can both take some share of the blame.” She swung her legs around to rest her feet on the floor. “Where are we, anyway?”
“One of the storerooms, down by the kitchen. There’s no way out; I’ve already searched. Even if there were somebody who might try to help us, the walls are two feet thick. We can yell all we want, but no one will hear.” He paused. “Any chance the Prism Cat might help us?”
She shrugged. “There’s always a chance. But Dirk thinks mostly of himself. I don’t think his attention span is all that long, either. If he knows we’re here and feels so inclined, he might choose to help us. But he might just as easily not.”
“Some friend.”
“I wouldn’t call Edgewood Dirk a friend. More on the order of a particularly nettlesome aunt or a nagging teacher.” She was thinking now of Harriet Appleton. But that wasn’t fair, she knew. She tossed the comparison aside. “Dirk is unpredictable,” she finished.
He shifted himself on the pallet so that he was sitting closer. “You told me how you happened to come to Libiris, but not why. You said you were escaping from your grandfather and hiding from your family so you wouldn’t have to come here. But why was your family making you come here in the first place?”
She told him. She started all the way back with her time at Carrington and her troubles with the school administration, culminating in her suspension and disgraced return to Landover. She related the events surrounding her flight from Sterling Silver, although it was unexpectedly hard to explain why she hadn’t wanted to come to Libiris but had ended up coming anyway and then staying. He listened without comment to all of it, and not once did she see even the flicker of a grimace or a look of disbelief cross his face.