“What took you so long?” I asked irritably in a low tone. “Devon’s already here!”
“Magic rites,” she told me loftily. “I cannot explain.”
I might have known. I heard Devon’s worried voice and the voice of Sabia’s duenna [2] answering him, telling him that Sabia was unwell, but would see him in the sitting room, if he wanted to wait.
He headed in that direction. Doors shut.
Alake darted into the hall, I trotted after her and we scuttled into the music room that adjoined the sitting room only a split instant ahead of Sabia and her duenna.
“Are you quite up to this, my dear?” The duenna was hovering over Sabia like a hen with one chick. “You don’t look at all well.”
“I do have a frightful headache,” we heard Sabia say in a weak voice. “Could you fetch me some lavender water to bathe my temples?”
Alake placed her hand upon the coral wall, muttered several words, and it dissolved beneath her fingers, creating an opening big enough for her to peek through. She created another hole at my level. Fortunately, elves fill their rooms with furniture and vases and flowers and birdcages, so we were well-concealed, although I had to peer through the leaves of a palm and Alake was eye-to-eye with a singing phurah bird.
Sabia was standing near Devon, as close as was considered proper between betrothed couples. The duenna returned with woeful news.
“Poor Sabia. We are out of lavender water. I can’t imagine how. I know the bottle was filled only yesterday.”
“Could you please be a dear, Marabella, and fill it again? My head does throb most awfully.” Sabia put her hand to her forehead. “There is some in my mother’s old room, I believe.”
“I’m afraid she is very ill,” said Devon anxiously.
“But your mother’s room is on the other side of the Grotto,” said the duenna. “I shouldn’t leave you two alone . . .”
“I only intend to stay a moment,” said Devon.
“Please, Marabella?” pleaded Sabia.
The elven princess had never been refused anything in her life. The duenna fluttered her hands in indecision. Sabia gave a faint moan. The duenna left. Knowing that many new rooms had been opened and several old hallways overgrown between here and Sabia’s mother’s room, I didn’t expect the duenna to find her way back much before morning.
Sabia, in her gentle voice, began to explain everything to Devon.
I can’t describe the painful scene that followed between the two of them. They had grown up together and loved each other dearly since childhood. Devon listened in horrified shock that gave way to outrage, and he argued and protested vehemently. I was proud of Sabia, who remained calm and composed, though what I knew she was suffering over his agony brought tears to my eyes.
“Honor-bound, I have told you our secret, Beloved,” she said, clasping her hands over his, looking straight into his eyes. “You have the power to stop us, to betray us. But you will not, I know, because you are a prince and you understand I make this sacrifice for the good of our people. And I know, my dearest, that your sacrifice will be far harder than mine, but I know you will be strong for my sake, as I am strong for yours.”
Devon sank to his knees, overcome by grief. Sabia knelt beside him, put her arms around him. I drew away from my spyhole, bitterly ashamed of myself. Alake moved away from hers, covered both over with her hand and a word of magic. She generally scoffed at love. I noticed now that she had nothing to say on the subject and that she was blinking her eyes quite rapidly.
We sat in the music room in the dark, not daring to light a lamp. I whispered to her my plan to steal the boat, which she approved. When I mentioned, however, that I had very little idea how to operate it, her face grew grave.
“I don’t believe that will be a problem,” she said, and I guessed what she meant.
The dragon-snakes would be watching for us.
She spoke to me something of the magic spells she was studying at her level (she had recently moved up to Third House, whatever that means). I knew she wasn’t really supposed to be talking much about her magic, and I must admit I wasn’t all that interested and I understood nothing of what she was saying. But she was trying to distract us, keep us from thinking about our fear, and so I listened with pretended interest.