She beamed. “Inosolan, my dear! How nice that you can join us! May I present these ladies? Mistress Jiolinsod, Mistress Ofazi…”
Feeling as if her head had come off and floated out through a window, Inos forced a smile on a face not there. Tucking the silk behind her in her left hand, she offered her right to each of the simpering matrons. To be invited to one of Princess Kadolan’s tea parties in the palace was a screaming social success, and to meet Princess Inosolan as well was probably a stupid honor.
Especially, she realized, when the princess was wearing her dowdy brown worsted, regally emblazoned—at least on the right sleeve—with silver cobwebs. Oh, horrors! There were probably cobwebs on her hair and face, also, while the society ladies were all dressed in their best gowns and bonnets, and loaded with every piece of jewelry they owned or, likely, had been able to borrow. Boots on the stairs! With a wail, Inos jumped loose from the fourth introduction and started backing away from the door.
Her aunt spluttered at such gaucherie. “Inos!”
And then the door flew wide and a man appeared in the doorway-an elderly man, tall and stooped. He folded his arms and straightened, and his gaze swept the room. Inos had never seen him before, she was certain, yet he had known what she looked like. He had a gaunt face, with a hooked nose like an eagle’s beak and fierce blue eyes. Deep clefts ran down at the sides of his mouth, emphasizing the nose and the strong chin. Wisps of white hair showed under the brown hood of his cloak. His gown bore traces of cobwebs.
“Doctor Sagorn!” Aunt Kade exclaimed in delight. “How nice that you are able to join us! May I . . .” Her voice tailed away as she saw how the newcomer was staring ferociously at her niece, as that niece continued to edge backward.
Inos was fighting a spring tide of panic, drowning in rising terror before that deadly glare. Her hips touched the trolley and she could back away no farther. Where was her father? Why had he not come, also?
And how in the world had this sinister old man come down the stairs so quickly? He must have outrun her and her father both, yet he was not even panting. She was.
“Inosolan?” Aunt Kade sounded vexed. “What are you holding behind your back, dear?”
Her mouth opened and nothing came out.
“Silk!” said the terrifying Sagorn. “Silk with yellow dragons on it. “
A sorcerer!
Inos screamed in terror and turned to flee.
The trolley crashed over, spilling cakes and wine in all directions.
Aunt Kade’s special and enormous silver tea um seemed to shake the castle as it struck the floor with a deafening boom. Tea exploded over half the ladies.
Staggering, Inos trod a creamy chocolate flan into the rug and almost fell. Then she hurtled out and down the stairs, leaving Aunt Kade’s midmorning salon in ruins and confusion.
4
Whimpering in her panic, Inos fled down all the rest of the staircases; raced in turn across antechamber, robing room, presence chamber, and throne room; burst out into the great hall; and there alarmed a group of small children being fed an early lunch. Out on the terrace she ran, not at all sure where she was going. Startled pigeons and seagulls clawed their way skyward, while the yellow cat that had been stalking them flew over a wall. She rounded a corner and saw ahead of her the open doorway of the palace chapel. She dived through it, seeking refuge in religion. Surely she would be safe from a sorcerer in the house of the Gods? She skidded to a halt in the cool dark interior, panting and deafened by the thunder of her heart, which seemed to be beating inside her head. The chapel was a small building, with room for only twenty or thirty people on its ancient pinewood pews. Its walls were immensely thick and it was said to be even older than the rest of the castle. At one end stood the offering table, before the two sacred windows, one bright, the other black and opaque, and on the table stood the sacred balance, its pans of gold and lead symbolizing the battle between good and evil. The air was clammy and musty. She hurried forward to the table and was about to drop to her knees when a dry voice spoke behind her.
“Well!” it said. “Do we have a sudden repentance?”
Inos uttered a shrill squeak and jumped.
Arms folded, Mother Unonini was sitting stiffly erect on the front pew. The palace chaplain was a dark, grim woman, who seemed very tall when seated. With swarthy face, black hair, and black robe, she was indistinct in the gloom, except for a clear glint of satisfaction shining in her eyes. “To what do the Gods owe the pleasure of this visit, my dear?”
“There is a sorcerer in the palace!”
“A sorcerer? How unusual!”
“Truly!”
“Come and sit by me, then, and explain,” the chaplain said. ”We can’t have you spouting random prayers in your condition—you might summon all the wrong sort of Gods. Long meditation and right thinking are essential prerequisites for prayer.”
Still trembling, the reluctant Inos went and sat beside her. Her head was immediately lower than Mother Unonini’s, but at least Inos’s feet still touched the floor. The chaplain had never forgiven Inos for imitating her waddling gait during the last Winterfest party, even though the king had made his errant daughter apologize in public afterward. Inos’s attendance record at church school was not going to help much, either.
“What is that you have in your hand? Let me see.” Unonini took the silk and unfolded some of it and held it down for the light to shine on. ”Well! You were bringing this as an offering, perhaps?”
“Er . . . no.”
“The table could certainly do with a new cloth. This is very nice. Where did you get it?”
“It’s my birthday gift from Father…” Inos trailed off weakly.
“Does he know that?”
“Well . . . I mean, not yet.” Inos twisted round to make sure that the sorcerer was not standing in the doorway. She felt trapped now, snared in this dark little room with the unfriendly Mother Unonini, and a sorcerer possibly lurking outside.
“Perhaps you had better begin at the beginning.”
Inos hung her head and began at the beginning. Her breath was returning and her heart slowing down. Little as she cared for Mother Unonini—who bore a strong smell of fish that day—at least a chaplain ought to know what to do if that terrifying Sorcerer Sagorn came after her. When she had finished, there was a pause.
“I see.” Mother Unonini sounded as if she had been impressed in spite of herself. “Well, let us hear your interpretation of these strange events. “
“What?”
“Don’t say `what’ like that. It is not ladylike. You know what I mean. All things and acts contain both the Good and the Evil, child. We must try to be on the right side in their eternal conflict. It is our duty always to choose the Good, or at least the better. Let us begin with the sorcerer, if that is what he is. Is he evil or is he good?”
“I . . . I don’t know. If he is a friend of Father’s . . . Perhaps he murdered Father? “
“I hardly think so. Don’t jump to conclusions! His Majesty probably stayed behind to close the door again. He certainly would not want unauthorized prowlers up in Inisso’s chamber. “
“You knew about that room?”
“Certainly! “
“You’ve seen it?”
“No,” Unonini admitted, with a hint of annoyance. “But I could guess that it would be there. Inisso was a great sorcerer—a good one, of course—and so he would have had a place of puissance at the top of his tower. There may be all sorts of arcane things still up there, things that do not concern prying young ladies.” Inos decided that the old witch was probably right. She had not been choosing the Good when she went snooping, nor when she listened to the conversation. So perhaps she had been on the wrong side of the eternal conflict. In that case, the sorcerer might be a good sorcerer, and his anger had been directed against the wickedness in her. It was very upsetting to think that she might be on the side of the Evil, and she suddenly wanted to weep. Preferably on someone’s shoulder, but certainly not on Madame Unonini’s.
“This silk, now,” Mother Unonini remarked. “Let us talk about that. Tell me what good and evil lie in this silk.” Suppressing a snivel, Inos said, “I should not have taken it until I could pay for it.”
“That is correct, child. Go on.”