The Wildkin’s Curse (33 page)

Light wavered over the glass casks, and he saw each had a long fuse leading out of it, neatly twined together and leading towards the entrance. He followed the fuse with his eyes. It led along the floor, past a row of silver armoured boots, the star-sewn hem of a long robe, and a pair of high-heeled red shoes with very long pointed toes.

H
IS HEART SINKING
, M
ERRY LIFTED HIS EYES
.

Standing by the door, fusilliers armed and raised, was a row of starkin soldiers. Beside them stood Ambrozius the astronomer, a faint smile on his face, and Lord Zakary, one hand resting nonchalantly on the handle of his pink silk parasol.

‘My dear Ambrozius, I do declare you were right—again! Do you not find it monotonous? How
did
you know he'd come popping out just where you expected?' Zakary drawled.

‘I have friends in low places,' Ambrozius replied, with a smug glance at Palila.

Merry stared from one to the other, then glanced quickly backwards. Palila had shut the door behind her, and there was no sign of the entrance to the secret stair. She stood, arms crossed, her face sad. At his accusing look, she shrugged her shoulders very slightly.

‘What is all this?' Merry asked, looking about him for some kind of escape route.

‘A trap,' Ambrozius replied. ‘I do suggest you come along quietly. I dislike scenes.'

‘Why? Where are we going?' Merry backed away.

‘I have a few questions,' Ambrozius replied. ‘I'd like to know just how you think you're going to be able to kidnap the crown princess, and what you plan to do with her afterwards? I'm guessing it's all part of some foul, rebellious plot hatched by that Hag, so I'm
very
interested in hearing more about her too!'

Merry looked round him wildly. He did not think much of his chances. He had no escape route, no weapon but his small dagger. Not even Tom-Tit-Tot was with him. Remembering what Palila had said to him about his Gift, he tried calling silently to the omen-imp, projecting all his fear and longing outwards. Tom-Tit-Tot was not a bird, but perhaps the Tongue of the Heavens worked for all flying creatures. Merry had no way of knowing. He felt a movement behind him, and turned. Palila had started forward, one hand flying up. He looked at her, with all the bitterness of her betrayal in his eyes, and she fell back, colour creeping up her ashen face.

I'm sorry
, she whispered in his mind.
But he has tortured me before, to make sure I cooperate, and I could not bear it again. And it's not just my life that's at stake. There's Horace and all the other birds, and the hearthkin in the city that rely on me, and the wildkin hiding in the forest, and Rozalina herself. We have been working in our own way to free her, and now at last it seems as if all her wishes will come true. Her father is dead, and the king has named her his heir. Even her hero has come at last. We cannot risk losing it all now. He would have known you had come to me, he would have watched you climb the cliff through his farseeing lens—he sees everything. If I had not told him, he would have punished me cruelly.

Merry shook his head dazedly. It felt strange and wrong to have someone speaking inside his own head
.
It set up echoes that seemed to reverberate around his brain, knocking down walls and shaking foundations. He had to concentrate hard to keep his balance, and put out one hand to steady himself against the wall.

‘Look, he's gone quite white!' Zakary crowed. ‘My dear Ambrozius, it seems even country louts have heard of your terrifying reputation. By the looks of him, you'll have no trouble extracting answers to your questions. What a shame.'

‘I have a few questions of my own to ask,' Merry said in a shaking voice. ‘Why are all these casks of fuel here? What are you plotting? There's some plan to blow up the tower, isn't there? You plan to murder Princess Rozalina!'

He saw the shocked comprehension on Palila's face, and the quick glance of complicity between Zakary and the astronomer.

‘How can you say such a thing?' Ambrozius said in a hurt voice. ‘The casks of fuel have been moved here for safe-keeping. We have had information that the rebels intend a daring attack on the palace itself. I shudder to think what would happen if the fusillier fuel should fall into their hands . . .'

‘It's the spring equinox feast tonight,' Merry cried, his brain moving at lightning speed. ‘There'll be fireworks . . . it'll seem like a terrible accident!'

‘You were right,' Ambrozius said to Zakary. ‘He is too quick for his own good. We will have to make sure he does not survive our questioning.'

‘
Your
questioning,' Zakary replied. ‘I do not soil
my
hands with such sordid pursuits. Make sure you extract all the details of the plot from him first. And make sure he gives us proof that my dear, dear cousin is involved. Remember Zedrin stands between me and the throne. A trifling obstacle, I agree, but one which I'd rather have tidied away.'

Merry's breath was coming short, and his heart pounded so hard he felt he might be sick. He cast Palila a pleading look, but it was clear the old woman could do nothing to help. She was trembling so much she looked as if she might faint.

There was only one thing he could do. Merry leapt sideways and sent a casket of blue liquid crashing onto its side, so that the fusillier fuel cascaded over the floor. No starkin soldier would be stupid enough to fire with all that inflammable liquid streaming everywhere, Merry hoped, running straight at the astronomer. At the last moment, he feinted and ducked past.

Just as he made it to the door, Zakary thrust out the tip of his pink silk parasol and Merry tripped over it and went crashing to the floor. Winded, he lay still for a moment. Hard hands hauled him up. As he brushed past Zakary, he smelt a strong, sickly and all too familiar scent. Snatches of memory flooded him. He saw a dark form bend over him, a white hand stabbing down . . .

‘It was you!' he gasped. ‘You stabbed Count Zygmunt and poor little Annie . . . you tried to stab me!

Zakary yawned. ‘How unfortunate you remembered! Not that it is of the slightest consequence. My dear Ambrozius will make sure you never live to tell the tale.'

‘But why? Why? I mean, I guess Count Zygmunt stood in your way, if it's the throne you're after . . . but why Annie? She never hurt anyone!'

Zakary laughed his high, sweet tinkle. ‘My darling Merrik, she and her betrothed were in my pay. Once it became clear the ambush had failed, I had to make sure she wouldn't talk. She was just the sort to complain once her dear beloved was dead, I assure you.'

Merry pressed his hands over his eyes. ‘
You
paid him all that gold! I should have guessed. I did wonder . . . but it seemed so improbable. After all, you're Zed's own cousin. How could you want to murder him?'

Zakary yawned. ‘Second cousin, once removed, my dear. The merest connection. And, frankly, he was an embarrassment to the family. Such rude good health! Such unsophisticated manners! And, of course, it would be a scandal to allow a child of a hearthkin to inherit the throne. If you think about it, my dear boy, I'm sure you'll agree I was only doing my duty.'

Merry hardly listened. He was running the past few weeks through his mind. ‘Did you pay Wilhelm to shoot the albatross? I guess he killed all the swans too!'

‘Oh, no, Sugar and I did that. It was rather fun.'

‘Fun?' Merry said incredulously.

‘Sugar enjoys tearing things apart,' Zakary replied sweetly. ‘She doesn't often get the chance.'

‘But . . . why?'

‘I heard you talking about swan feathers in the courtyard at Estelliana Castle. I'd paid Wilhelm to tell me as soon as you and Zed got back from wherever you'd been—I knew you were up to something, you'd been gone for months and months. He sent me a message and I came sneaking down, really, I was just too, too clever. I could not hear much, just something about a swan feather and the Erlrune. I didn't know what you were up to, but I thought I'd kill all the swans and see if that upset you, and indeed it did, your faces when you found the dead swans were just too delicious.'

So he doesn't know about the cloak of feathers,
Merry thought with relief. He wondered how much Palila had told them and remembered the brief note she had written and hidden in the pelican's pouch. She could only have written a few words. She stood now, staring around at the rows of glass tanks of fuel, wringing her hands in distress. Merry's heart lifted. He could only hope that she meant to tell them no more about their plans. And they could have no proof, could they? Only snatches of overheard conversations and a few vague suspicions.

‘That is another question I'd like the answer to,' Ambrozius said, confirming Merry's thoughts. ‘What was all this fuss about birds? Swans and albatrosses and pelicans? They're big, I grant you, but not big enough to support anyone's weight. Do you have some kind of flying chariot you wanted them to pull? Is it some kind of foul wildkin magic?'

‘Not at all,' Merry replied sweetly. ‘I'm a bird-lover. We all are. We're having a competition to see who can be the first to catch sight of every bird in Ziva.'

The astronomer kicked him hard in the ribs. Merry rolled into a ball, groaning. ‘Take him to the dungeon,' Ambrozius told the soldiers. ‘I'm going to enjoy our little session.'

Zed galloped up the hill towards the palace. His poor horse was sweating and labouring for breath, but Zed dared not be late.

He knew he had to be very careful. The eyes of everyone at court were upon him, speculating, imagining, gossiping.

If he made one false move, he could well be arrested and charged with treason. Not only would he have failed to rescue Rozalina, but his whole family would suffer. Although he felt quite sick with worry about his friends, he knew he must not allow his feelings to show on his face. He must act as if all was well, and do nothing to draw unwelcome attention.

He could not act until he had the final two feathers. If Merry and Liliana had failed to find them, then Zed would have to wait until an opportunity presented itself.

He saw a small figure trudging up the road ahead of him, and his heart leapt. He recognised that dark, curly head, and the green-grey cloak. As he brought his horse cantering up behind her, she turned, her bow lifting automatically, one hand flying to her quiver of arrows.

‘Lili!'

‘Zed!'

‘Where have you been?' He bent and grasped her hand, and she put her boot into the stirrup and leapt lightly up behind him. ‘I've been worried sick . . . did you get any of the feathers?'

‘We got the nightingale feather.'

‘Oh, good work! Only one to go, and maybe Merry's got it already.'

‘Merry?'

‘Yes, I think so.' He told her quickly what the fisher-boy had told him and then said, ‘But why aren't you with him? What have you been doing?'

‘We . . . we had a fight.'

‘You what?' Zed was incredulous.

‘He told me . . . You know how Merry's grandfather was once music teacher here at the court? And he ran away with a starkin woman, and she jumped off the boat and tried to drown herself, and Merry's father was born under the water . . .'

‘Yes, yes,' Zed replied impatiently, urging his laden horse into a faster trot.

‘The starkin woman was Princess Druzilla, the king's elder sister.'

Zed twisted round to stare at her. ‘So Merry . . . Merry is one of the Ziv? Merry is . . .'

‘Next in line to the throne.' Liliana nodded her head emphatically. ‘There's more. His grandfather Johan was of wildkin blood. That means Merry has the blood of all three races in his veins. I think he is the one, you know, “
the true king of all
”.'

‘The third in the prophecy,' Zed said slowly.

‘Yes. He has starkin blood from Princess Druzilla, wildkin blood from Johan, and hearthkin from his mother Mags. He's only small . . . doesn't the prophecy say “
the smallest and the greatest
”?'

‘But what about me?' Zed said rather wildly. ‘You can't just skip one whole part of the prophecy.'

‘Who said the prophecy was about you, anyway? Maybe we've already seen that second child born, somewhere else. Maybe the second child doesn't matter that much.'

‘Hang on,' Zed said, getting huffy. ‘Why would the second child be in the prophecy at all if he wasn't important? And Durrik
said
he heard that part of the prophecy in relation to me!'

‘You're missing the point!' Liliana began to get angry too. ‘It says the true king of all is a boy born between star-crowned and iron-bound, with the blood of both wise and wild, farseeing ones and starseeing ones. Merry's the only person who fits that description. And so, if he married Rozalina, he'd be king and the two thrones would be united.'