A Princess of Landover (33 page)

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.”

O
nce 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 shifted 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

M
istaya 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 assigned 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
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 identity 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.

“We’re not going to give up on this, are we?” Thom asked her quietly, giving a quick glance over his shoulder for what might be lurking in the shadows.

“I’m not,” she declared firmly.

“Then I’m not, either. But we have to find a different way.”

“What if we don’t find a different way?”

Thom shook his head. “Sooner or later, we’ll have our chance. We just need to be patient.” He frowned. “You didn’t hear the voice again, did you? It didn’t call out to you or anything?”

She sighed. “Not since the last time. But I think it will. Soon.”

“I do, too.” Thom’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “There has to be a way.”

As it happened, he was right, but when opportunity knocks, it doesn’t always appear the way we expect. Thus, as Mistaya was walking back to her bedroom after finishing her dinner, already dreading tomorrow’s workday in the stables, she was surprised to
find herself suddenly in the company of Edgewood Dirk. As usual, the Prism Cat appeared out of nowhere and with no warning. One moment he wasn’t there, the next he was. For a moment, Mistaya just stared, not quite believing what she was seeing.

“Where have you been?” she demanded, recovering herself sufficiently to demand an explanation.

The cat’s face was inscrutable as he glanced over at her. “Here and there,” he said, showing no inclination to offer anything further by way of explanation.

“Well, you certainly were quick enough to disappear once you’d brought me here!” She was steaming and not the least bit interested in keeping it to herself. “What about all those promises you made about keeping me safe and hiding me from discovery?”

The cat didn’t even glance at her. “If I remember correctly, I never said anything at all about keeping you safe. What I promised is that you wouldn’t be discovered through use of another magic. I didn’t promise that Questor Thews wouldn’t figure out on his own that you might be here and come looking for you.” He paused, reflecting. “Although such initiative is quite unlike him, I admit.”

“At least he offered to try to help me!” she snapped back. “He listened to what I had to say and then he tried to do something about it. At least he
talked
to me. What have you done lately? Disappeared and stayed disappeared, is what!”

“I wasn’t aware that I was under any obligation to do anything other than what I had promised.” The smooth, silky voice was infuriating. “I didn’t promise to help you or talk to you or do anything else. I’m a cat, in case you hadn’t noticed, and cats don’t do anything for people unless they choose to. I didn’t so choose. Or at least I didn’t before this and may not still if you don’t keep a civil tongue in your head.”

She forced down the retort she wanted to make and kept quiet a moment, considering her options. They were almost to her bedroom door now, and she glanced up and down the hallway to see if anyone was watching. Rufus Pinch came to mind.

“No one but you can see me,” Dirk advised, obviously reading
her mind. “Spying is poor form, even for humans. I don’t allow that sort of thing.”

She sighed. “Of course you don’t.”

They reached the door, and she opened it. The cat walked inside, jumped up on her bed, and assumed a Sphinx-like pose, forelegs extended, head raised, rear haunches tucked against his lean body. His fur glistened in the dim candlelight, as if encrusted with diamond chips or dappled with morning dew.

“Shall we start over again?” the cat asked.

She nodded. “Please. Do you know what’s happened to me since I arrived? Do you know about the voice and the darkness in the back of the Stacks?”

Edgewood Dirk closed his eyes in contentment. “I am a cat. I know everything that happens. Did you think that because you couldn’t see me, I couldn’t see you?”

“I just didn’t know if you would bother.”

“Oh, Princess, you cut me to the quick! I bother with anything that engages my curious nature. You do know about cats being curious creatures, don’t you?”

“I believe we already established that in an earlier conversation.” She gave him a look. “What about the old saying that curiosity killed the cat?”

“Lesser cats, perhaps. Not Prism Cats. We are not the kind to let curiosity kill us. Which is not true of young girls like you, I might point out. Especially in situations like this one.”

“Are you saying I’m in danger?” she asked quickly. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Lots and lots,” he replied. “But most of it does not pertain to your present circumstances, so we can skip all that. Let’s start with something pertinent. For example, your efforts at exploring the darker regions of the Stacks have not met with much success to date, although they have placed you in a tenuous situation with the library’s present administration. Perhaps you would like to see that change?”

She brightened instantly. “Of course I would. Can you do something to help?”

“Perhaps. If you are serious about this.” Dirk rose, stretched, and yawned. “I’ll be back at midnight to see if you are awake.”

He hopped down off the bed and walked over to the door. “Be alone when I come. The boy may not go with you. Do you understand?”

She understood well enough, although she didn’t much like it. But what choice did she have if she wanted to learn something more about the voice? She could always tell Thom later what she had discovered.

“I understand,” she replied. “He’s not to know anything about you.”

The cat nodded, and the door opened of its own accord and then closed behind him as he strolled out. Mistaya sighed and decided she might consider coming back as a Prism Cat in her next life.