3
“And now you’re going to go and have a good night’s rest,” Mistress Aganimi said firmly.
“Oh, I’d love to, but—”
“No buts. Your bedroom’s ready at least, and I’ve had a good fire going in there to take the chill off. Off with you now! Can’t have our dear queen working herself to death . . .”
As a child, Inos had disliked the bleak old housekeeper, who had often stolen her friends away to put them to work, while laying down laws that came from no statute book Inos had ever discovered. These last three days, though, the formidable Aganimi had been almost as indispensable as Rap.
She tried to find some better arguments in her fatigue-softened head, and saw that there weren’t any. Gods, if the kingdom couldn’t last a night without her, what good was it?
Was this really bedtime? The sky was a bright smear above the hills to the south, and that meant either sunrise or sunset, but noon for certain. There was enough light dribbling in the windows that she didn’t even need a lantern, for once.
As she began dragging her feet up the stairs from the Throne Room, she wondered if she had the strength even to reach her bed. The kings of Krasnegar had always slept at the top of Inisso’s Tower. That was holy writ, although no one had known that the reason was to guard the other chamber, above the bedroom. Well, everyone must know about that now.
She crossed the Presence Chamber, smiling at the boys there trying to bow to her while encumbered with shovels and buckets. The cleaning up was going well now.
She crossed the Robing Room, and here girls were working with mops and rags. Why would Aganimi have kept boys and girls apart? Efficiency, probably. Less fun, though. Remember to change it.
She crossed the empty Antechamber. Timber needed sledges and sledges needed runners and runners needed iron; so she had been informed. Iron was in short supply. To melt down dwarvish steel swords for such a purpose was unthinkable, the smiths had told her. Don’t think, then, just do it, she had replied.
She crossed the Withdrawing Room, also barren now. If they could build boats, they ought to be able to make furniture that didn’t look as if it had been thrown away by trolls. Of course she could always slip down to Kinford through Rap’s magic portal, then order what she wanted shipped north in the spring.
She crossed the Dressing Room; slowly, puffing hard. She could steal timber from the goblins, but nails didn’t grow on trees. Rap could make nails, but she would rather not ask Rap for help, except when she had to. It felt like cheating. She wondered how many nails she could smuggle in through the magic portal before people became suspicious, and why that didn’t feel like cheating.
She dragged herself up the last stair and into her bedroom, and shot the bolt. Peace!
As the housekeeper had said, there was a cheerful fire glowing in the grate. The temperature was almost comfortable close to the fireplace. The only furnishings were a faded old rug and a small bed that Inos had not seen before. It was piled high with furs and quilts and Rap.
He was lying on top with his hands behind his head, watching her without expression. He was still wearing the same garments as before, but he was clean and fresh shaven and his goblin tattoos had disappeared. She wondered when that had happened.
She went over to him, and he raised eyebrows in welcome.
“Not tonight, I’m too tired,” she said. He pulled a face at such off-color humor.
“Of course you could fix that,” she added hopefully. “I want to show you something—upstairs.”
Inos shook her head quickly. “No! Not now!” She was so tired that even the thought of …
Rap nodded. “Good, it works!”
“What does?”
“The aversion spell. I restored it.”
Inos looked at the sinister, forbidding door. “I don’t care. I’m not going up there right now. Maybe tomorrow, when I’m not so tired.”
“Use the same password.”
“Holindarn? Oh . . . see what you mean.” Her apprehension and dislike vanished, being replaced by normal curiosity as to what a sorcerer might have to show.
Rap swung his legs down from the bed. “Come on! I’ve also repaired the shielding round the castle, so no one can spy on you from outside except when you’re in the topmost chamber.” He opened the door for her and she began dragging her feet up yet another narrow staircase.
His voice echoed behind her. “I’ve even raised the causeway a little—I think it’s subsided since Inisso’s time. And now it’s goblin repellent, just in case. And I’ve restored the inattention spell on the whole kingdom. I made it as strong as I dared. Any stronger, and the ships would forget to come.”
“You’ve been busy.”
“You haven’t exactly been lazing around yourself.” Then she had reached the chamber of puissance. It was astonishingly warm. Rap’s doing, no doubt. It had been cleaned out. Again, Rap’s doing—only sorcery could have removed every trace of dust like this, and even put a shine on the floor.
Southward, the magic portal was a darkness where the magic casement had been, flanked by windows in the two smaller side arches. Sunrise or sunset was streaming in through those.
The only furniture was a massive chest, so that must be what she had been brought to see. She crossed to it and tried the lid.
“Different password,” Rap said. “Shandie.”
“Why Shandie?” The lid came free in her hand. “Just easy to remember, hard to guess.”
She looked at the contents—hundreds of washleather bags.
“Gold,” Rap said at her elbow. “Never knew a woman go through money like you do, but that lot ought to keep you in pins for a while. The big bag there is your crown. I can’t find the original, so I expect the imps took it, but that’s an exact duplicate.”
Crown? Who cared? She dropped the heavy lid and turned to him with tears starting in her eyes. “Rap, if this means—”
“Yes, it does. Now come along.” He put an arm around her waist and led her over to the portal. He said, “Holindarn!” and opened it and they both recoiled at the bright afternoon sunshine in Kade’s private parlor. Smoke puffed from the fireplace, but not so vigorously as last time.
And Kade, who had been sitting reading a book, jumped to her feet in alarm.
“She’s all right,” Rap said. “Just about out on her feet though. She’s hardly slept.”
“Everything’s fine,” Inos said. Sharp guilt pangs reminded her that she had not been keeping Kade informed.
“Yes, dear, I know,” Kade said. “Well done! Now sit here.”
Between them, they guided Inos to a rose-patterned chair. Old age was really making her legs shaky these days. Her joints had forgotten how to bend. Someone put her feet up on a footstool, and someone else tucked a pillow behind her.
“She just ate,” Rap said. “A hot bath and about ten hours in bed should do it. No one will go looking for her in the castle, but she’ll relax better here.”
Inos stared up with bleary, resentful eyes while Kade went hurrying out to organize and Rap perched on the back of a chair, one foot on the floor, one dangling. No tattoos now. Hair a bird’s nest. Stupid face with wistful expression. That was her man and he was leaving her.
“I’m going, Inos.”
“I can tell.” She was too weary to argue, and that was why he had chosen this moment. Arguing with Rap was never productive, anyway. Pigheaded idiot!
“You’ll do all right,” he said. “You’ve been doing all right.”
“I couldn’t have done anything without you.” It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair!
“That’s true, but I’ve haven’t done much since the first night except throw out money. I gave you no advice, you know—none! You knew what to do by instinct. I’ll keep an eye on you . . .”
“I love you. You love me. But you’re going away.”
“And you want to know why. And I can’t tell you. Oh, Inos, dearest, I’d tell you if I could!” He stared at her in dismay. “Listen—the words are more than just words, obviously. They may be the names of demons or elementals. I don’t know that, but it seems reasonable. The elemental is bound by its name and must serve whoever knows it. Makes sense, sort of. Then when you share a word of power, you give the poor old elemental one more person to serve, so its power is … Well, you get the idea.”
With her head back on the cushion like this it was hard to keep his face in focus. Hard to keep anything in focus. The warmth was drugging her.