The Queen's Poisoner (The Kingfountain Series Book 1) (28 page)

Men rise from one ambition to another. If there was ever a man born to lead the Espion, it was John Tunmore. I’m frankly startled that Ratcliffe managed to capture him. The rat has a gift. His book would be priceless. I wonder if there is anything in it that incriminates me?

—Dominic Mancini, Espion of the Palace Kitchen

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Deep Fathoms

In the months Owen had spent at Kingfountain, the season should have started turning to autumn, but instead, it decided to retreat back to summer. The day the eel was smuggled back into Ceredigion, a heat wave struck the kingdom and turned the castle into a brick oven. It lasted for days.

Sweat dripped down Owen’s nose as he lay on the kitchen floor, fidgeting with the tiles. He had stacked a row up on the bench so that they would fall and instigate a group down lower to collapse as well. His designs were getting more and more complicated.

“It is
so
hot!” Evie complained, scooting away from him, her back to the wall. She stretched and yawned lazily. “It is never this hot in the North, Owen. Even this late in the year, there is still ice up on the mountains. Did you know there are ice caves up there? Huge ice caves. I have not seen them yet. Papa said I was too young to climb up to them.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” Owen mumbled distractedly. The salty sweat stung his eyes, and he wiped it away furiously. He hated being so hot and irritable.

The windows of the kitchen were fully open, but it did not help against the sweltering heat. Liona was still responsible for baking bread for all the meals, and after hours of standing in front of the boiling ovens, she was snapping at her underlings impatiently. Everyone was upset and short-tempered.

“I wish the king would take us with him when the court moves. It’s moving West, I hear. Grandpapa told me. Would you like to see Tatton Hall again? What is your manor like? Would you like Grandpapa to give a message to your family for you?”

Owen stared at her, his heart suddenly clenching. “Why is the king going West?” He felt a prickle of apprehension. Had this Deconeus of Ely somehow compromised his parents? Worry began to wriggle in his stomach.

“The king always travels, silly. He must administer justice and order throughout the realm. There are always disputes that need resolution. Laws to be enforced. Taxes to be collected, of course. He usually picks a place for his winter court. It takes several months to make all the arrangements, you know. I hear he’s going West this year. Maybe he’ll spend winter court at Tatton Hall? Or perhaps the royal palace Beestone.”

Owen was not sure how he should feel about that. It had been months since he’d seen his family. He was still upset with his parents for abandoning him, whether they’d had a choice or not, but his life had drastically changed in the months since he’d left home. He no longer felt like the same boy he’d been.

“I have an idea,” Evie whispered. “It’s so hot, let’s go jump into the cistern again!”

The idea was absolutely wonderful and Owen grinned his agreement. He toppled the lead tile and they watched the pieces collapse in a dazzling explosion of sound loud enough to awake Mancini, who had been snoring in a chair.

Then Evie grabbed Owen’s hand and the two started across the kitchen, running.

“Where are you off to now?” Liona asked over her shoulder. Jewel was suffering with gout from the heat wave and had asked the cook to watch them that afternoon.

“To dance in the fountain!” Evie yelled back mischievously.

“That’s not proper, young lady!” Liona hollered.

But the two children were both too eager to care about propriety. Owen felt a little twinge of nervousness about jumping into the cistern again, but not only did the cool water sound inviting on such a humid day, he also remembered seeing the treasure, and he wanted to see if he had been imagining it.

The chair squeaked as Mancini got up and started after them. “Hold on, you two!” he said curtly.

“Run!” Evie whispered, tugging hard on Owen’s hand, and the two escaped out the kitchen door and started down the hall, the fat Espion shouting after them. Owen felt laughter bubble up inside him and spill out his mouth. They ran through the halls, nearly colliding with sweaty servants who glowered at them in annoyance. The race only added to their excitement as they went one way and then another, their feet pounding on the polished tiles of the immaculate palace.

Their pace slowed when they reached the rarely used corridors where the window leading to the cistern yard was concealed. They were listening for sounds of pursuit and, hearing none, they approached the familiar tapestry. Evie glanced back one more time and then pushed aside the fabric of the tapestry and shoved at the window, raising it. After helping her scramble up, Owen followed her through the opening.

The sun was beating down on the yard, the heat shimmering on
the hot stones. Owen and Evie quickly traipsed to the huge gullet of the
cistern and peered down inside. Given the brightness of the light, they
couldn’t see very well down the shaft. They heard the water lapping against
the columns below, but the markers identifying the depth of the cistern
were masked by the glare.

Evie scratched her head, squinting. “Let’s make sure it’s still deep enough.”

They walked over to the ivy-covered door they had found last time, but when Owen stooped to trip the latch, he found it was already ajar. Had they not closed it last time? He couldn’t remember. They pulled the door open and started to descend the steps to the water’s edge.

“It’s lower than it was,” she murmured. “It’s down several notches. See?”

“Where’s the boat?” Owen asked. He’d noticed immediately that it was missing.

She whirled and looked to where it had been. “I don’t see it. Is someone down here, do you think?”

“Shhh!” Owen said, holding a finger up to his lips. He listened for any sound of trouble, anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing, and the only sight ahead of them was the empty water of the cistern brightened by the pillar of light from above. Who could have taken the boat?

“I think it’s deep enough,” Evie said after a while, growing impatient. She started back up the steps.

“Wait!” he called, running after her. He wanted to figure out the answers to his questions before they risked a jump, but he could tell she was eager to start swimming.

They reached the large hole looming above the cistern. The water was indeed lower, and Owen could see their shadows shimmering on the choppy surface.

“Ready?” she asked, reaching out and clasping his hand.

Owen nodded and let her count.

“Go!” she said, tugging on his hand and pulling him with her.

The wild frenzied feeling of plummeting reminded him partway down that he should be terrified, but then the shock of cold water met his face and he plunged into the depths. His feet touched the bottom of the cistern. His hand still gripped hers.

Owen opened his eyes and found himself surrounded by a pile of treasure. He felt a huge burst of excitement in his ribs as he stared at the sword hilts, the jewels, and the necklaces. Evie was tugging at his hand and trying to swim up, but he pulled back, not wanting to lose sight of the treasure. There was so much! But then he noticed something awry. There was a gap in the treasure, as if someone had dragged a rake through it. No, that wasn’t it. One of the chests appeared to have been dragged back toward the stairs. The dragging motion had cleared a path through the bounty and knocked other bits over.

His companion was yanking hard on his hand now, and when he looked up, he saw bubbles were coming out of her mouth, obscuring her face.

Owen wanted to stay down and figure out what had happened to the treasure, but they both needed to breathe. He pushed with his legs and they started toward the surface. As they moved through the water, a loud grinding noise filled his water-soaked ears.

When Owen’s face broke the surface, he gulped in a chest full of air to stop his lungs from burning. Evie was spluttering and paddling on the waters.

“Owen! Did you hear that noise?”

Owen looked and saw they were farther away from the stairs. In fact, they were gliding away from it at a fast pace.

“What’s wrong?” Owen asked, kicking around. The water was tugging them deeper into the dark cistern.

“Swim!” she shouted, and started paddling her arms and kicking with her legs. Owen began to swim as well, trying to reach the safety of the stairs, but the current was too strong. They were being sucked deep into the throat of the cistern. Fear made him forget the treasure he had seen down below.

There was light coming from the far end. He hadn’t seen that before. Was there an opening in the cistern? Then he heard the sound of rushing water, the sound of a waterfall.

“Owen!” Evie shrieked, realizing it at the same time he did.

The cistern was draining into the river.

The stairs were far away now, and the shaft of light from the opening was a pale spear in the darkness that was growing larger as the current pushed them farther and farther from safety.

“Grab a column!” she shouted. She reached for the nearest one, but her fingers slipped on the wet stone.

Owen tried to grab one too and his fingers managed to stick. He grabbed Evie’s wrist and clung to her, but the force of the waters pulled him away from the column and they were both swept into the current once more.

The maw of the opening loomed closer and they could hear the water spilling over its edge. Would they be able to stop themselves from going over? He didn’t think so, not with how fast the water was moving them.

“Owen!” she said desperately, grabbing his waist in terror.

There was nothing to hold on to. There was nothing to grab. The boat was gone. His mind whirled frantically, but then, with the shushing sounds of the water, he felt a stab of peacefulness. His mind opened to the possibilities, quick as lightning. He needed something heavy. Something so heavy the waters couldn’t move it.

The treasure.

“Hold on to me!” he shouted at her fear-stricken face. “Hold tight!” Instead of swimming against the current, he swam with it and went down. Flailing, his foot struck against something hard on the bottom. It was too dark to see, but he felt with his hands and discovered a handhold, the rung on a chest. He grabbed it tightly with one hand and felt himself slipping, so he grabbed it with both. Evie clung to his belt, holding on for dear life. He was running out of air, but at least they weren’t moving. The chest was saving them from being swept away. Why was there treasure on the floor? Who had left it there? How had someone dragged one of the chests away? Why?

His lungs burned painfully. He wanted so badly to breathe! He felt Evie’s hands slipping away. He needed to act quickly if he were to save them both. He pulled on the ring and dragged himself over the chest, so that he could plant his feet on either side of it. The chest was big, probably up to his waist. It slid a little on the ground when he jostled it, but it was too heavy to be dragged away.

Breathe.

The thought came to his mind and he started to panic. He felt he should just breathe in the water, but he knew he would die if he did. As Evie had told him, children drowned all the time. He needed air! He wedged the chest between his legs, freeing his hands, and then grabbed Evie’s arms and pulled her away from his belt. He pushed her up toward the surface, holding her by her boots. He felt the current tugging her away, but he held on fiercely, determined not to lose her.

She was screaming. Even under the water, he could hear her voice. Bits of blackness drifted in front of his eyes. He was fading. Falling asleep.

He was drowning.

He felt his muscles tingling and burning. They were near the opening where the water spilled out, he realized. A big square of light could be seen overhead. Owen felt peaceful as he stared at it. His lungs stopped burning. Everything slowed down and he felt one with the waters.

Breathe.

The thought didn’t sound so frightening now. Owen opened his mouth.

Evie was gone. He blinked in confusion. When had he let go of her? He heard the pattering of a fountain, could almost smell the scent of honeysuckle and other garden flowers. Strange that he could smell so deep underwater.

Then strong hands grabbed him beneath his arms and pulled him up. His face broke the surface and then air was suddenly filling his chest again. Delicious, yeasty air that made his bones sing.

“Up, lad! Up!” It was Mancini’s voice.

Owen spluttered dreamily and saw Evie clinging to the fat spy’s neck, her hair dripping into her face. Her dress drooped as well and she hung limply, looking too tired to move. She stared at Owen in relief and he could tell she was struggling not to cry.

Mancini hauled Owen up under his arm and started tromping back toward the stairs. The waters rushed around him, but enough had drained that it was down to his middle, and it appeared to have lost some of its power.

“Why the devil I should risk my life saving you two,” the Espion muttered darkly as he marched. “Reckless. Careless. Stupid little urchins. I thought you were a water sprite, girl, but you’re clearly not! A water sprite wouldn’t have almost got herself drowned. How did you even know about this place? It was walled off for a reason!”

Owen ignored the man’s rant and stared at the water. It was draining past Mancini’s knees now. Soon the treasure would be seen. He would prove to them it was real.