Sapphique - Incarceron 02

by Catherine Fisher

  He stood there nervously. 'Well?'

  'You look fine. But you should have more gold lace. We have to show these people. .

  'You look every inch the Prince Jared said, coming and opening the door.

  Finn didn't move. His hand gripped the swordhilt as if it was the only familiar thing there. 'I don't know if I can do this,' he said.

  Jared stepped back. 'Yes you can, Finn.' He moved closer and his voice was so quiet Claudia barely caught the words. ' You will do it for the Maestra's sake.'

  Startled, Finn stared at him. But then the bell rang again, and Claudia slipped her arm firmly in his and led him from the room.

  All the corridors of the Court were lined with people. Well-wishers, servants, soldiers, secretaries, they gathered in hallways and peered from doors and galleries to see the Crown Prince of the Realm going to his Proclamation. Preceded by a guard of thirty men-at—arms, sweating in their shining cuirasses, ceremonial swords upright in their hands, Claudia and Finn walked quickly towards the State Apartments. Flowers were thrown at Finn's feet, applause rippled from doorways and stairs. But it was muted, and Claudia knew that, and she wanted to frown under the gracious smile she had to keep on her face. Finn wasn't popular enough. People didn't know him. Or they thought he was surly and remote. It was all his own fault.

  But she smiled and nodded and waved at them, and Finn walked stiffly, bowing here and there at faces he recognized, and she knew Jared was reassuringly behind her, his Sapient coat swirling the dust on the floor. They were escorted through the myriad apartments of the Silver Wing, and the Gold Rooms, and the Turquoise Ballroom,

  massed with staring crowds, and the Mirrored Salon where the walls of looking-glass made the gathering seem overwhelmingly huge. Under glittering chandeliers they walked, through air that was hot and cloying with perfume and sweat and pomander oils, through whispers and polite cheers and curious scrutiny. Music tinkled from viols and cellos on a high balcony; rose petals were tossed in showers from the ladies-in-waiting. Finn looked up and managed a smile; the pretty women tittered and hid their faces behind fans.

  His arm was hot and tense in Claudia's; she squeezed his wrist in reassurance. And as she did so she realized how little she really knew of him, of the agony of his memory loss, of the life he had lived.

  As they came to the entrance of the Crystal Court two livened footmen bowed and flung the doors back.

  The vast room shimmered. Hundreds of people turned their heads.

  Claudia loosened her arm, and stepped back beside Jared. She saw how Finn gave her one glance; then he drew himself up and marched on, one hand on his sword. She followed, wondering what terrors of the Prison had taught him such cold bravado.

  Because the room was full of danger.

  As the crowd fell back she walked between their sweeping bows and elegant curtsies and wondered how many secret weapons were concealed here, how many assassins lurked, how many spies pushed close. A silken flock of smiling women, Ambassadors in full regalia, Countesses and Dukes and all the ermine robes of the Privy Council opened to show the scarlet carpet that led the length of the room, and the tiny birds in bright cages that sang and fluttered in the high arches of the roof. And everywhere, like a bewildering maze, the thousand crystal pillars that gave the room its name reflected and twisted and entwined from the vaulted ceiling.

  On each side of the dais ranks of Sapienti stood, their iridescent robes catching the light. Jared joined them, quietly moving to the end of the line.

  The dais itself was raised on five wide marble steps, and on the top of it were two thrones. Queen Sia rose from one.

  She wore a hugely looped gown of white satin, a cloak trimmed with ermine, and the crown. It was oddly small on her elaborate hair, Claudia thought, stopping at the front row of courtiers next to Caspar. He glanced at her, and grinned, and the hulking bodyguard called Fax stood close behind him. Claudia turned away, frowning.

  She watched Finn.

  He climbed the steps swiftly, his head slightly bowed. At the top he turned to face the crowd and she saw his chin go up, the steady defiant stare he sent out at them all. But for the first time she thought, If he tried he could look like a prince.

  The Queen held up her hand. The murmuring crowd fell silent; only the hundreds of finches cheeped and warbled high above.

  'Friends. This is a historic day. Giles, who was once lost from us, has returned to take up his inheritance. The Havaarna Dynasty welcomes its Heir. The Realm welcomes its King.'

  It was a pretty speech. Everyone applauded it. Claudia caught Jared's eye and he blinked slowly. She tried not to smile.

  'And now we will hear the Proclamation.'

  As Finn stood rigidly beside Sia the First Lord Sapient, a thin austere man, stood and handed his silver wand tipped with its crescent moon to a footman. From another he took a parchment scroll, unrolled it and began to read from it in a firm, sonorous voice. It was long and tedious, full of clauses and titles and legalese, but Claudia realized it was essentially an announcement of Finn's intention to be crowned, and the assertion of his rights and fitness. When the phrase, 'sane in mind and whole in body and in spirit' rolled out she stiffened, sensing rather than seeing Finn's tension. Beside her, Caspar made a small tutting noise.

  She glanced at him. He still wore the stupid smirk.

  Suddenly a cold fear sprang up in her. Something was wrong. They had something planned. She moved, agitated; Caspar's hand caught hers.

  'I hope you're not going to interrupt,' he breathed in her ear, 'and ruin Finn's lovely day.'

  She stared at him.

  The Sapient ended, rolling the scroll. '. . . Thus it is Proclaimed. And unless there be any who cry out against it, I affirm and announce here and before these witnesses, before the Court and the Realm, that the Prince Giles Alexander Ferdinand of the Havaarna, Lord of the Southern Isles, Count of—'

  'I object.'

  The Sapient faltered, fell silent. The crowd turned, astonished. Claudia whipped her head round.

  The voice had been quiet but firm, and it came from a boy. He pushed his way through and past her, and she saw he was tall and had brown hair and there was a clear, purposeful look in his eyes. He wore a coat of fine golden satin. And his resemblance to Finn was astonishing.

  'I object.'

  He looked up at the Queen and Finn and they stared back, and the First Sapient made a sharp gesture, and the soldiers lifted their weapons quickly.

  'And who are you, sir, that you think you may object?' the Queen said in amazement.

  The boy smiled, and held out his hands in a curiously regal gesture. He stood on the step and bowed low.

  'Madam Stepmother,' he said, 'don't you know me? I am the real Giles.'

  10

  So he rose up and sought the hardest way, the road that leads inward. And all the time he wore the Glove he did not eat or sleep and Incarceron knew all his desires.

  LEGEND OF SAPPHIQUE

  The horse was tireless, its metal legs deep in snow. Attia held tight to Keiro, because the cold made her stiff and her hands numb, and several times she almost, felt she would fall.

  'We have to get far enough away,' Keiro said over his shoulder.

  'Yes. I know.'

  He laughed. 'You're not a bad little operator. Finn would be proud.'

  She didn't answer. The plan of how they should steal the Glove had been hers and she had known she could do it, but she felt a curious shame at betraying Rix. He was crazy, but she'd liked him and his ramshackle troupe. As they rode she wondered what he would be doing now, what story he would be spinning them. But he'd never used the real Glove in the act, so they should be able to carry on. And she shouldn't feel sorry for him. There was no place for pity in Incarceron. But as she thought that she thought of Finn, who had pitied her, once, and rescued her. She frowned.

  The Ice Wing glittered in the darkness. It was as if the artificial light of the Prison had been stored deep in its frozen strata, so that eve
n now, in darkness, the vast tundra was pale and phosphorescent, its pitted surface swept by cold winds. Shimmers of aurora rippled in the sky, as if Incarceron amused itself with strange effects in the long hours of the arctic night.

  They rode for over an hour, the land becoming more and more contorted, the air colder. Attia grew tired; her legs aching, her back an agony.

  Finally, Keiro slowed the beast. His back was damp with sweat. He said, 'This will have to do?

  It was a great overhang of ice, sheened with a frozen waterfall.

  'Great,' she muttered.

  Slowly, the horse picked its way in, among boulders furred with frost. Attia swung both feet over and slid gratefully down. Her legs almost gave way; she grabbed one of the rocks, then stretched, groaning.

  Keiro jumped down. If he was stiff he was far too proud to show it. He took off the hat and mask and she saw his face.

  'Fire,' he muttered.

  There was nothing to burn. Finally he found an ancient tree-stump; there was still some bark that could be snapped off, and with some kindling from the pack and a great deal of impatient swearing he managed to get it alight. The heat was paltry, but Attia was glad to stretch out her hands and shiver over it.

  She crouched, watching him. 'We said a week. You were lucky I'd managed to guess... '

  'If you think I was going to hang around a stinking plague-heap, you were wrong? He sat opposite. 'Besides, things were getting rough back there. That mob might have got to it first.'

  Attia nodded.

  Keiro watched ice drip into the fire. The damp wood hissed and crackled. His face was edged with shadows, his blue eyes red-rimmed with weariness, but his old arrogance was still there, his effortless sense of superiority 'So how was it?' She shrugged. 'The magician's name was Rix. He was . . . strange. Maybe a little mad.'

  'His act was rubbish.'

  'You would think that? She remembered the lightning in the sky, the dripping letters painted by the man who could not write. 'A few odd things happened. Perhaps because of the Glove. I thought I saw Finn.'

  Keiro lifted his head sharply. 'Where?'

  'It was . . . a sort of dream.'

  'A vision?' He groaned. 'Oh, fantastic! That's all I need! Another Starseer .' Dragging the pack nearer, he took out some bread, tore it open and tossed her the smaller part. 'So what did you see my precious oathbrother doing? Sitting on his golden throne?'

  Exactly, she thought, but instead she said, 'He looked lost.'

  Keiro snorted. 'Sure. Lost in his luxurious corridors and throne rooms. His wine and women. I suppose he's got them all eating out of his hand, Claudia and his stepmother, the Queen, and whoever else is soft enough to listen to him. I taught him how to do that. I taught him how to survive, when he was a stunned kid sobbing at every loud bang. And this is how he repays me.'

  Attia swallowed the last of the bread. She had heard all this before. 'It wasn't Finn's fault you couldn't Escape.'

  He glared at her. 'I don't need you to remind me.'

  She shrugged, trying not to glance at his hand. He always seemed to wear gloves now, even when it wasn't so cold. But under the dirty and embroidered red gauntlet was Keiro's secret, the thing that haunted him and of which he never spoke, the single metal fingernail that told him that he was not entirely human. And that he had no idea how much of his body Incarceron had made.

  Now he muttered,' Finn swore he'd try to find some way to get me Out. All the Sapienti of his pathetic kingdom would work at it. But I don't intend to wait around. He forgot the Outside, so maybe he's forgotten us now. All I know is if I ever find him again he'll regret it.'

  'Unlikely to happen,' Attia said heartlessly.

  He glanced at her, his handsome face flushed. 'And what about you? Always had a soft spot for poor old Finn, didn't

  you?'

  'He saved my life.'

  'Twice. Once with my magic ring. Which I should still have, instead of it being wasted on you.'

  She was silent. She was used to his scorn, and his moods. He tolerated her because she was useful, and she stayed with him because if Finn came back, it would be to find Keiro. She had no illusions about that.

  Gloomily, Keiro sank a mouthful of sour beer. 'Look at me. Skulking in the Ice Wing, when I should have been leading the old gang now, out on some raid, taking the chief's share of the plunder. I beat Jormanric in a fair fight! I destroyed him. I had everything in my hands, and I let Finn persuade me to leave it. And what happens? He Escapes and I don't.'

  His disgust was real; Attia didn't bother to remind him that she had tripped his opponent at the critical moment and won the fight for him. Instead she said, 'Stop moping. We've got the Glove. At least let's take a look at it.'

  He was still a moment, then brought out the silk pouch from his pocket. He dangled it from one finger. 'What a

  pretty little thing. I won't ask how you found out where he kept it.'

  She shuffled closer. If her guess had been wrong..

  Carefully, Keiro opened the drawstring, tipped out a small dark crumpled object. He spread the thing out on his palm, and they stared at it in fascination.

  It was extremely old. And very different from the gloves Rix had worn in his act.

  For a start it was not made of fabric, but of some glistening, scaly skin, very soft and supple. Its colour was difficult to define; it seemed to shimmer and change between dark green and black and metallic grey. But it was certainly a glove.

  The fingers were worn, and stiff, and the thumb had been repaired with a patch, sewn by ragged stitches. On the gauntlet were pinned a few metal objects, tiny images of a beetle and a wolf, and two swans linked by a fine chain. But most unexpected of all, the fingers of the Glove were tipped with ancient, ivory-yellow claws.

  Keiro said wonderingly, 'Is it really dragonskin?'

  'Could be snake.' But she had never seen scales so fine and tough.

  Slowly, Keiro took his own glove off. His hand was muscular and dirt' 'Don't,' she said.

  Sapphique's Glove looked too small for him. It seemed to be made for a fine, delicate hand.

  'I've been waiting a lifetime.'

  She knew he thought it would somehow change things, that wearing it might negate the components that were part of him, that if Finn came back through the Portal to fetch him he could follow, by wearing this. But Rix's warning haunted her.

  'Keiro... '

  'Shut up, Attia.' He opened the Glove. It crackled slightly and she smelt its fusty, ancient smell. But before he could slide his fingers in the horse raised its head and gave a sharp snort. Keiro froze.

  Beyond the rigid waterfall the Ice Wing seemed dark and silent, deserted in its black night. As they listened they heard the low moan of the wind that gusted out there, a cold echo in the meltholes and glaciers of the abandoned landscape.

  And then something else.

  A chink of metal.

  Keiro stamped on the fire; Attia dived behind a rock. There was no way of hiding the horse, but it stood quietly, as if it too sensed the danger.

  With the flames gone the Prison's night was blue and silver; the seamed currents of the waterfall twisted like grotesque marble.

  'See anything?' Keiro squeezed in beside her, shoving the Glove into his shirt.

  'I thought so. Yes. There.'

  A glint, out on the tundra. Aurora reflecting on steel. A flicker of torchlight. Keiro swore. 'Is it Rix?'

  'I don't see how it can be Rix could never have caught up with them, not with the clumsy waggons. She narrowed her eyes and stared.

  There was something out there. It lurched in the shadows. As the light it carried flared up she glimpsed a grotesque creature, lumpy, as if it had many heads. It clanked, as if its body was made of chains. A thread of dread touched her spine. 'What is that?'

  Keiro was very still. 'Something I hoped never to run into.' His voice was drained of all bravado; glancing at him she saw only a flicker of his eyes.

  It was making straight for them. P
erhaps it could smell the horse, or sense the frozen water. The chinking became regular, as if the thing marched with military precision. As if its centipede legs were a legion.

  Keiro said, 'Get on the horse. Leave everything.'

  The fear in his voice made her move without question. But the horse sensed it too, and it whinnied, loud in the silence.

  The creature stopped. It whispered. It had many voices, and its heads turned, hydra-like, to each other. Then it began to lope raggedly, awkwardly, parts of it falling, being dragged, staggering up. It yelled and swore at itself, bunched in a dark bristling mass. Sword blades and flames gleamed in its hands. Green aurora flickered over it. It was a Chain-gang.

  Claudia stared at the boy. He straightened, saw her, and smiled, warmly. 'Claudia! You've grown up so much. You look wonderful!' He stepped towards her and before she could move or the guards could stop him he had taken her hand and kissed it, formally. Astonished, she said, 'Giles?'

  Instantly there was uproar. The crowd buzzed with excitement, the soldiers looked to the Queen. Sia was standing absolutely still, as if thunderstruck; with an elegant movement she recovered, lifted her hand and waited for silence.

  It came slowly. A guard banged his halberd on the floor. The crowd hushed, but there were still whispers. The Sapienti glanced at each other; Claudia saw Finn stride forward and stare at the newcomer angrily. 'What do you mean, "the real Giles"? I'm Giles.'

  The stranger turned and looked at him as if he was dirt. 'You, sir, are an escaped Prisoner and an imposter. I don't know what malice lies behind your claims, but I can tell you they are certainly not true. I am the rightful Heir.' He turned to the crowd. 'And I've come to claim my inheritance.'