A Princess Of Landover Part 18

"But he didn't try to come back to Sterling Silver when you became court wizard and my father King?"

Questor shook his head. "No, and that was something of a surprise. I had thought that after my brother was disposed of and your father made King, he would be one of the first to make his appearance and offer his services. That would be very like him. But he failed to do so, and after a while I simply stopped thinking about it."

She frowned. "Yet you were prepared to send me here?"

"Not alone, I wasn't. Only if I was in your company, your supervisor for this job of reopening the library and your protector against any threats. I wasn't worried about Crabbit specifically. Frankly, it had been so long that I wasn't even sure he was still here. I thought he might have moved on. I regret that I was wrong and regret even more that you had to encounter him on your own."

"It hasn't been such a problem," she declared quickly, shrugging the matter off. She paused. "Let me make a suggestion," she said impulsively. "A compromise. You leave me here and go back to my parents and tell them where I am. Let them know I'm fine, and I'm doing what Father sent me to do in the first place. Sort of, anyway. Ask him to give me a chance to work on this a little while longer before he hauls me home. Tell him all I want is a chance to prove myself. Besides, Thom risked a lot for me, and it wouldn't be right if I just walked out on him."

"I am not comfortable with the idea of leaving you here alone," the old man declared, pulling at his whiskers. "If Craswell Crabbit were gone, as I had hoped he would be by now, I would feel better about your staying. As it is ..."

"I'll be careful," she promised. "I have my magic to protect me, don't I? Didn't you train me yourself? Besides, I don't think I'm in any real danger. His Eminence hasn't threatened me or anything."

"He won't bother with threatening you if you get in his way. I know him. He is a snake. He never should have been appointed director of the library, but the old King was failing and didn't see." Questor shook his head. "Are you sure he doesn't know who you are?"

"He hasn't said or done anything that would suggest he thinks I'm anyone other than Thom's sister, Ellice."

But she wondered suddenly if she had missed something. Was it possible that His Eminence had recognized her and was keeping her here for reasons of his own? The possibility sent a sudden chill up her spine.

"This business with the voice bothers me, too. I just don't like any of it, Mistaya. I think you should come with me."

She shook her head stubbornly. "It was your idea for me to come here in the first place," she pointed out, brus.h.i.+ng aside her concerns about His Eminence. "Yours and Abernathy's. Well, I did what you wanted. What my mother and father wanted, too. And now you want me to just walk away, to give up. Like I did at Carrington?"

She reached out and took the old man's hands in her own. "Please, Questor. Let me stay. Let me see this through. This is as much for me as it is for Thom; I know that now. I need to do this. Please!"

Questor Thews cleared his throat. "If I agree to this-and I am not saying yet I will-I want your word that you will not do anything to place yourself in danger. I do not know what hearing that voice means, whether it is Libiris speaking or someone else, but before you go off investigating the source-no, no, Mistaya, let me finish-before you do anything that puts you at risk, you will call on one of us to help you. And I do not mean this boy, whoever he is. I mean myself or your father or someone else who can protect you. Otherwise, you can pack your clothes and prepare to leave right now. I want your word."

"You have it," Mistaya declared, prepared to say or do whatever it took to get him to agree to let her stay.

"Then I have something for you." Questor reached into his pocket and withdrew a round stone not much bigger than a pebble. It was infused with striations of various colors that swam through its surface like the currents in a river. "Take this," he ordered.

He handed it to her, and she held it in the palm of her hand, looking down at it. "This is a rainbow crush," the wizard advised. "Should you need to call for help, this stone will allow you to do so. You give it a message and tell it who you want the message to reach-you say the words in your mind-then drop the stone to the ground and stamp on it. Whoever you summoned will hear your voice speaking the message and respond accordingly. If you feel you are in any danger at all, you are to use it at once. Understood?"

She nodded. "Understood."

"You are not to rely on your own magic to protect you except as a last resort. You are well schooled in its use, but you are not well practiced. Too many things can go wrong. Use the crush instead and summon one of us."

She was tempted to remind him that her magic had helped save his life five years earlier, but decided that was pus.h.i.+ng things. "I've never heard of a rainbow crush," she said instead.

"That is because there are only a few in existence. They are very precious and difficult to come by. So take care of yours and use it wisely." He stood up. "Time for me to be going. Morning is almost here, and I do not want to be found inside these walls when it arrives."

She put the rainbow crush in her pocket and hugged him to her. "Thank you, Questor, for trusting me. You won't regret it."

"I'd better not," he declared. "Do not forget that when I leave here, I go back to the castle and your parents. I cannot speak for what they will choose to do; they may come here whether you like it or not. So whatever you need to do, do it quickly."

"All right." She stepped back from him. "But you can tell them you've seen me and I'm fine. a.s.suming His Eminence doesn't throw me out after our meeting. After hearing from Rufus Pinch, he might do exactly that. Thom and me both. I might be home before you are."

He gave a disapproving grunt. "That would not be the worst thing in the world. Think of the satisfaction you will feel if he does throw you out and you return as Princess of Landover and his new employer. Then you can throw him out!"

She grinned. "That does have a certain appeal."

"Just remember one thing." He was serious again, his frown back in place. "Craswell Crabbit is no one to fool with. He has skills and trickery of his own to call on if he needs them and an appalling lack of morals to back them up. If there is something to be gained, he will not hesitate to sacrifice anyone or anything that stands in his way. You keep on being the poor little peasant girl who doesn't know anything and let him toss you through the door if that is what he wants. No heroics."

"I promise to be careful." She kissed him on the cheek. "Now you'd better go."

"One thing more," he added, turning back as he reached the door. "I am taking those G'home Gnomes with me. Keeping them here is just asking for trouble. All they are doing out there is plotting ways to steal the livestock. That does nothing to help you. They They do nothing to help you, come to that. So back they go!" do nothing to help you, come to that. So back they go!"

She felt a momentary pang of regret for Poggwydd and Shoopdiesel, who had tried so hard to help her. But she also felt a huge relief. "Say good-bye for me."

He smiled anew, nodded his approval of something or other, and disappeared through the door into the darkness of the hallway. She stared after him, smiling back. When he was gone, all that remained was the whisper of his robes and the warmth she felt on thinking how lucky she was to have him as her friend.

"It seems you have a problem understanding the difference between obedience and disobedience," His Eminence declared, his over-large head c.o.c.king to one side as if somehow dislodged from his neck. He rocked back in his chair with his fingers steepled and gave them a stern look. His tall, angular, skeletal form seemed to fold over on itself as he leaned forward suddenly. "A rather serious problem, it appears."

It was first light, and Mistaya stood beside Thom on the other side of the desk facing their judge and jury. Rufus Pinch lurked off to one side, hunched over and frowning, which was pretty much what he did the rest of the time, so there was nothing troubling there. His Eminence, on the other hand, was scowling in a way suggesting that the outcome of this trial was unlikely to be favorable to them no matter what their defense.

"The rules are quite clear about use of the Stacks," he continued, looking thoughtful. "You are to be there only during working hours. You are to stay in your a.s.signed area of work. You are to concentrate on the task you have been given and no other. You are not to go outside your area of work and never are you to go back into the Stacks unaccompanied and without permission. I believe I made that quite clear to you, Thom, on your arrival, did I not?"

"Yes, Your Eminence, but-"

One bony hand lifted quickly to cut him off. "Your time to speak will come later. Just answer my questions." He turned to Mistaya. "Did Thom explain the rules to you, Ellice?"

"Yes, Your Eminence."

"So when you went into the Stacks at midnight or whatever hour it was, you knew you were there in violation of the rules, didn't you?"

"Yes, Your Eminence."

Craswell Crabbit glanced over at Rufus Pinch, who managed a sour smile and a curt nod. "Mr. Pinch?"

"They were where they weren't supposed to be and they were obviously doing something they weren't supposed to do. The evidence is quite clear. Our course of action should be just as clear. This is a flagrant violation of the rules."

"So it seems." His Eminence gave a huge sigh, turning back to the accused. "Have you anything to say for yourselves?" he asked, looking from one to the other.

"Yes, Your Eminence, I do," Mistaya said suddenly, stepping forward. She lifted her chin and met his judgmental gaze bravely. She deliberately did not look at Thom. "If you please."

He nodded. "Say whatever it is you want to say, Ellice."

"None of this is Thom's fault. It is entirely mine, and whatever punishment you care to deliver I will accept it without complaint. But Thom was only trying to help me, the way big brothers do their little sisters when they discover that their hearts have been broken."

"Is that so?" His Eminence sounded only marginally interested. "Please explain yourself."

Mistaya never hesitated. "While working in the Stacks the other day, I lost a pendant, a family heirloom. A gift, actually, from my mother. I wear it everywhere, but somehow the chain broke and the pendant was lost. I didn't realize it right away, and when I did, I looked for it and couldn't find it. I was devastated. I searched for it two days straight, looking all around the areas in which we worked. I looked for it in the kitchen and all the common rooms and even my bedroom. But it was gone."

She paused, taking time to look as if she were composing herself. "Then it occurred to me that one of the Throg Monkeys might have taken it. Maybe just to look at, but maybe to keep. So I begged Thom to go with me back into the Stacks while everyone was sleeping to see if it might have been carried back there somewhere. It was a foolish thing to do, but that pendant meant everything to me."

She cried a little, real tears. "It was all I had left to remind me of my mother," she whispered, sobbing softly. "We lost her not long ago ..."

"It was my fault as much as hers, Your Eminence," Thom cut in suddenly. "I knew how much she valued that pendant. I didn't want her to lose it. So I said I would take her into the Stacks to look for it."

"Knowing you were breaking the rules?" His Eminence pressed.

"Knowing I was," Thom agreed. "I admit it. I hoped no one would find out, but Rufus was on watch, as usual."

"Of course I was on watch!" the little man snapped. "I am always on watch against the likes of you and your sister!"

"Rufus, Rufus," Craswell Crabbit soothed.

"Well, it's true!" the other hissed.

"But we didn't get very far," Thom added quickly. "We were afraid to do something that bold. We only looked a little way before coming back. The Stacks are too huge for a search of the sort that was needed, and if the Throg Monkeys took the pendant-which they might have done, since they take things all the time-then I needed to confront them and find out what they had done with it."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure that all this is true." His Eminence looked and sounded bored. "But rules are rules."

"Your Eminence," Thom replied, straightening. "I will save you the trouble of making a decision on our punishment. A mistake has been made and a rule violated. There is no excuse. Ellice and I will pack our bags and leave immediately. After seeing my sister safely home, I will return and complete the remainder of my service working in the stables."

Rufus Pinch looked pleased. But His Eminence held up both hands and shook his head slowly. "No, no, that won't do at all. Your service here is not for mucking out stables, it is for cataloging and organizing books. You will stay and work as you have committed yourself to doing."

He turned to Mistaya. "As for you, Ellice, I have a different plan in mind. Because I am by nature a generous and forgiving person, I am going to make an exception this one time and give you another chance. You may stay to help your brother. But as punishment for your disobedience, you will do service in the stables every third day for an entire month cleaning up after the animals. Mind you, young lady, should you violate the rules again-any rules-you will be dismissed immediately. There will be no discussion, no excuses, and no further leniencies. One misstep, and you are gone. Do we understand each other?"

Mistaya hung her head meekly. "Yes, Your Eminence."

He ignored Rufus Pinch, who was looking at him with a mix of astonishment and rage, his face twisted, his fists balled, and his entire body arched like an angry cat's.

"You will begin your month of stable service tomorrow morning," he said to Mistaya.

"Yes, Your Eminence," she repeated.

"Very well, the matter is closed. Now get back to work, both of you."

Once the door had closed behind the so-called brother and sister, Rufus Pinch wheeled on His Eminence, so enraged that he was hopping up and down. "What are you doing? They were lying, Craswell! Lying from first word to last! Couldn't you tell that, you idiot?"

"Watch your tongue, Mr. Pinch," the other cautioned, holding up one finger and touching his long nose. "Or I shall have to remove it."

But Rufus Pinch was too furious to take notice of what he perceived to be idle threats. "They were lying!" he screamed.

His Eminence smiled and nodded. "Yes, I know that."

The other man stared at him. "You know that? Then why aren't you doing something about it? Why don't you throw them out?"

"Because I wish to keep them working in the Stacks, Mr. Pinch. I am keeping them here for a purpose, though I am quite sure you don't have the faintest idea what it is. Besides, I want to see what they are up to. You don't happen to know, do you?"

"Of course I don't know!"

"Well, there you are then. You have your marching orders. Shadow them when they are together and find out what they are up to. They have gone to great pains to keep it from us, so it must be something important. We should know what it is before we decide what is to be done with them."

Pinch shook his head in dismay. "You take too many chances! We would be better off getting rid of both of them right now!"

His Eminence shook his head and s.h.i.+fted his long body to a more comfortable position. "Oh, no, Mr. Pinch. We would be much worse off if we got rid of them. Trust me on this. They are valuable, those two. Not for who they seem, but for who and what they are."

He winked at his companion. "You do know, don't you?"

"No, I don't know!" Pinch spit at him. "Why don't you just tell me?"

His Eminence laughed. "And what fun would that be, Mr. Pinch? Tell me that. Why, no fun at all!"

His laughter increased until he was practically rolling on the floor. Rufus Pinch looked at him as if he had lost his mind, decided that perhaps he had, and stalked from the room.

CAT'S PAW Mistaya spent the remainder of the day working side by side with Thom in the Stacks, and although they talked about it at length-keeping their voices at a barely audible murmur to avoid any chance of being overheard-neither one attempted to go outside the a.s.signed area. Rufus Pinch was lurking close by, sometimes visible and sometimes not, but always a discernible presence. He would be looking for them to do something like that, something that would allow him to insist that they be banished from Libiris for good. Or at least that she she would, since it appeared that Thom was doomed to serve out his indenture no matter what crimes he committed. Whatever the case, she did not want to be the cause of either happening, and so for the moment she knew she must be content mulling over ideas for another nighttime foray. would, since it appeared that Thom was doomed to serve out his indenture no matter what crimes he committed. Whatever the case, she did not want to be the cause of either happening, and so for the moment she knew she must be content mulling over ideas for another nighttime foray.

The situation reminded her a little of her adventures at Carrington, where she was always in the forefront of one underground revolution or another. Except that here, she knew, the consequences of being caught out might be a bit more extreme than at a women's prep school.

By now, she had told Thom of the conversation she had overheard between His Eminence and Pinch, and together they had puzzled over the ident.i.ty of the unknown allies and the origins of the books taken from the Stacks and the nature of whatever magic was being used, but had been unable to come up with a reasonable explanation for what it was all about. Someone was using magic, someone was trying to get out, and somehow Crabbit and Pinch were involved. That was about all they could agree upon.

She had said nothing to him of the visit from Questor Thews. Nor could she think of a way to speak to him of what the wizard had confided about the origins of Libiris. Doing so would require an explanation of how she had come into possession of such knowledge, and she couldn't think of one that didn't necessitate her telling him who she really was.

She considered doing that, but quickly dismissed the idea. If he found out she was a Princess of Landover, it would change everything between them, and she didn't want that.

"We have to give it a few days, at least, before we try to go back there again," Thom was saying as time wound down toward the close of the day. By then the discussion had been ongoing for hours.

"I don't think waiting is going to help," she replied, sorting through the stack of books closest at hand. Another one was missing, she noticed. Another in an ever-increasing number. "Pinch won't give up watching us no matter how long we wait."

"He's like that," Thom agreed. He brushed his dark hair out of his eyes. "Maybe he'll get sick."

"Maybe we could make him sick." She gave him a look.

"Maybe," he agreed. "But he never eats anything he doesn't prepare himself."

"We could get around that."

"We could."

They were quiet for a moment, thinking through various scenarios that would allow them to poison Pinch's food enough to render him temporarily unable to function. But poisoning was an uncertain science, and neither wanted to do anything worse than make him sick.

"This would all be much easier if we had a way to make ourselves invisible," Thom said finally. "If they couldn't see us, they wouldn't know what we were doing."

Mistaya nodded absently, thinking that her magic would allow her to make them invisible, at least for a short time. But using her magic might give her away. Then again, maybe that didn't matter anymore. Her father and mother would know where she was by tomorrow at the latest, and they were the ones she had been worried about before. Still, she also found herself thinking suddenly of Craswell Crabbit, of whom Questor had told her to be especially careful. If he had the use of magic, he might be able to detect hers and determine its source. Not a pleasant prospect when you considered the consequences of being caught out.

She sighed. Questor had told her not to use her magic except in an emergency, and their hunt for the source of the voice probably didn't qualify. At least, not yet.

They didn't talk after that, concentrating on the sorting and cataloging of the books, their thoughts kept private until it was time to quit and they were walking toward the kitchen.