A Princess of Landover (23 page)

“Good morning, Your Eminence,” Thom replied promptly. Rather quickly, Mistaya thought, he led her forward to stand before the desk. “This is my sister, Ellice.”

“Ah, what a lovely child you are, Ellice!” the spider enthused, reaching out with one bony hand to take her own.

“Your Eminence,” she responded quickly, letting the hand he held hang limp as she gave him something between a bow and a curtsy.

“Come for a visit?” he pressed. “All the way from … ?”

“Averly Mills, Your Eminence,” she answered smoothly.

“Yes, that is the name. I’d forgotten.” He smiled. “Missing your brother, are you?”

She noticed now that his head was shaved of hair, but fine black stubble grew over his bald pate and along the smooth line of his angular jaw in a dark shadow that refused to be banished. His sharp eyes locked on her own, and she could feel them probing for information that she might not wish to give.

“Yes, Your Eminence,” she answered. “I thought perhaps I might be allowed to remain with him for a time. I am willing to work for my keep.”

“Oh, tut, tut, and nonsense!” the other exclaimed in mock horror. “We don’t treat our guests that way!” He paused, cocking his head at her. “Then again, we are short of helping hands just now, and our library reorganization clearly lacks the concerted effort it requires. Why, if not for your brother, we might not have made any progress at all!”

“Ellice is a good worker,” Thom cut in. “She can read and write and help me with the organizing. She would be an immense help.”

“I would be pleased to do whatever I can,” Mistaya affirmed quickly, trying out a smile on him.

His Eminence looked charmed in his praying-mantis sort of way. “How very gracious of you, Ellice! I would not ask it of you, but neither will I refuse the offer. You may begin work at once! Please consider yourself a part of our family while you are here. Thom, has she met everyone?”

“Mostly, Your Eminence,” the boy answered. “Pinch last night, some of the Throg Monkeys today, although I don’t know which ones or whether they even care. Not all of them, I’m sure. They seem to multiply daily. Anyway, thank you for allowing her to stay with me. I miss her every bit as much as she misses me.”

“Well, I am certain you do.” The oblong face tilted strangely, as if about to fall off its narrow perch. “Though you’ve never once mentioned her before, have you?”

Mistaya felt a chill go up her spine. But Thom simply gave that familiar shrug. “I never thought it important enough to speak about, Your Eminence. You have so much else with which to grapple that it never seemed appropriate to talk about myself.”

The tall man clapped his hands. “How very thoughtful of you, Thom. Indeed, you never disappoint me. Well, then. You’ve had your breakfast and taken a look around, Ellice?”

“Yes, Your Eminence.”

“Then I shall not keep you a moment longer. Your brother goes off to work and you must join him. We shall visit again, later. Goodbye for now.”

He gave her another smile and a perfunctory wave that couldn’t possibly be mistaken for anything other than a dismissal. Giving deep bows and muttering their profuse thanks, the boy and the girl backed from the room and closed the door.

At once Thom put a finger to his lips. In silence, they retraced their steps back down the aisleway and to the front end of the
Stacks. When they were safely clear of the walls and out in the open, Thom turned to her.

“What do you think now? Is he a noble of the realm?”

She made a rude sound and didn’t answer.

I
t was only a few minutes later, the boy and the girl gone by then, that a knock sounded in the wall of Craswell Crabbit’s office. His Eminence grunted and a hidden panel slid smoothly aside to admit Rufus Pinch. The hirsute little man trundled over to the side of the desk he couldn’t see over from the front and peered up accusingly at its occupant.

“Mr. Crabbit,” he greeted.

“Mr. Pinch, don’t call me that.”

Pinch ignored him. “Surely you don’t believe their story, do you?”

His Eminence smiled beatifically. “I tend not to believe anything anyone tells me, Mr. Pinch. That way I am never disappointed. Are we speaking of our Thom and his lovely sister, Ellice?”

“I don’t know who she is, but she’s not who she claims. You can be certain of that.”

“That, and much more, I think. But you are absolutely right. She isn’t who she claims. But then neither is he, in case it had escaped you.”

Pinch looked puzzled. “He isn’t?”

Craswell Crabbit steepled his fingers in front of him. “Do yourself a favor, Mr. Pinch. Don’t try to do the thinking in this partnership. Leave that to me. Stick with what works best for you. Spying. Keep an eye on those two and find out what they are up to.”

He looked deeply thoughtful as he paused. “Because they are almost certainly up to something.”

BACK IN THE STACKS

F
or the remainder of the day, Mistaya worked side by side with Thom in the dark and musty confines of the Stacks, cataloging and shelving the books that were stored there. Each book had to be removed, checked against a master list that His Eminence had supplied to Thom, cleaned and repaired as best as possible, and then returned to its space. The shelves themselves had to be scrubbed, since dust and grime had accumulated in clumps and layers thick enough to provide homes for nests of insects, which had long since gone condo. The work was slow and laborious, and by the end of the day they had barely completed one small section of the acres that required attention.

Of course, the task would have taken a dedicated crew of twenty able-bodied men and women as long as two years to complete, so they were somewhat at a disadvantage having only themselves and the completely unreliable Throg Monkeys as laborers. The annoying little creatures skulked around like evil weasels, appearing out of the gloom and then disappearing back into it once more, coming and going as they pleased. When they bothered to pass by, they regarded Thom with undisguised dislike and Mistaya with malevolent intent. Thom managed to get them to do some work, mostly the heavy lifting of the books from the shelves to the floor for easy reach, using the whistle they hated so to bring them to heel. But
mostly they just drifted about, demonstrating no interest in the charge His Eminence, supposedly, had given them.

Still, some work was accomplished, and by the end of the day Mistaya could look with pride on the small area of shelving to which she had successfully lent her efforts. The ancient wood gleamed with waxing and polishing and the books rested upon it proudly, each in its place, giving the space a look of bright promise. She took special pleasure in hearing Thom compliment her on her efforts, pointing out how much easier things were now that she was there to help.

Neither of them made any mention of the fact that Rufus Pinch had been spying on them the entire time, making a poor job of concealing himself as he peeked around corners and through gaps, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. What he was trying to accomplish was anybody’s guess, but after their first sighting of him resulted in a quick exchange of wordless looks, they pretty much ignored his pathetic efforts in favor of concentrating on the task at hand. Mistaya did find herself wondering more than once if the little man was intent on making this his life’s work, but imagined that eventually he would grow tired of the game.

She also found herself wondering how in the world the job of repairing and restoring Libiris and her books would ever be accomplished if things didn’t change dramatically from the status quo. As things stood now, it would not be likely that the work would wrap up in her lifetime. But she wasn’t there for that, she kept reminding herself. She was only there to hide until she could figure out a way to bargain with her parents about her future. She was working at Libiris not because she wanted to but because it was the only way she would be allowed to stay. As soon as she was able to do so, she was going to leave this dreadful, dingy place and go somewhere else entirely, somewhere at least marginally reasonable.

All of which reminded her that she was in this mess in the first place because she had listened to Edgewood Dirk, and the cat had not reappeared since.

“Tell me something about yourself,” Thom asked her later, as
they were eating dinner in the kitchen. As usual, there were only the two of them. Rufus Pinch seemed to have given up spying on them for the day and the Throg Monkeys had gone back into the gloom. “Nothing too revealing; I’m not asking you to give up your secrets. Just something you think I might like to know.”

She thought about it a moment, giving him a measured look. “And then you will do the same?”

He grinned. “Of course.”

“All right.” She thought some more. What could she say that would really amaze him? She wanted to do that, to shock him. But at the same time she had to be careful not to give anything away.

“I know,” she said finally. She squared her shoulders. “I have met the dragon Strabo, and talked with him.”

He stared at her as if she had lost her mind. It was exactly the reaction she had hoped for. “You have not,” he insisted. “You couldn’t have.”

“But I have. It happened when I was ten years old. I was outside my village, carrying milk to my grandmother’s cottage.” She was improvising now, making it up as she went. “The dragon landed in a field and ate a cow right in front of me! When he was done, he looked at me and asked me what I was staring at. I couldn’t speak, I was so afraid. But the dragon said not to worry, that as a rule he didn’t eat little girls. Only now and then, and this wasn’t either. Then he flew away.”

He exhaled sharply. “Right in front of you? I would have been afraid, too! I’ve seen the dragon flying, but I can’t imagine talking to it.” He leaned forward, his face serious. “I think you were very brave.”

She blushed despite herself, not so much at the compliment as at the knowledge that she was perpetrating a deliberate deception in order to impress him. She liked Thom, and she wanted him to see her as something more than a runaway with strange traveling companions. Her meeting with Strabo hadn’t been anything like what she had described, but she couldn’t tell him the truth without giving away her identity.

“I wasn’t so brave,” she said, making a dismissive gesture. “The dragon wasn’t interested in me.”

“You would have made a nice snack,” he suggested. “Did you believe it when he said he wouldn’t eat you?”

She shrugged. “He was scary looking, but not aggressive. He didn’t threaten me. He just made that one comment, that’s all he did.” She was anxious to move on. “All right, now it’s your turn. Tell me something about you that I should know.”

He gave her his boyish grin and shook his head. “I don’t think I have anything to tell you half as interesting as what you just told me.” He rested his chin in the cup of his hands. “Let’s see. Well, I like books. I read all the time.”

“That’s not surprising,” she challenged. “You work in a library.”

“Lots of people work at places they don’t have any interest in.” He paused. “How about this? I don’t like fighting with weapons. I’m not very good at it.”

She gave him a look. He didn’t seem all that awkward. In fact, she thought he looked pretty capable. “What else?” she pressed. “That’s not enough yet. You have to tell me something important, something you wouldn’t tell just anyone.”

He leaned back, looking much put upon. “You can’t expect me to match the dragon story. Well, okay. I saw the dragon once, flying by, high up; I already told you that. Does that count?”

She shook her head. “Something else.”

“There isn’t anything else!” he exclaimed in mock exasperation. “Wait! Okay, one other thing I can tell you.” He leaned forward again, bending close and lowering his voice. “I’m not here because I am an apprentice. I’m here because I’m indentured to His Eminence.”

“Indentured? Like a servant or slave? You mean he owns you?”

“Something like that, I guess. My father sold me to him for five years to satisfy a family debt. I have to stay here working for him until my five years are up.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m only in my third year.”