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Authors: Kate Forsyth

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BOOK: The Wildkin’s Curse
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Tom-Tit-Tot was beside himself with impatience, dancing about the drain in the floor and shrieking at her, ‘Lili, you dimwit, look in the pit!'

It was not until she heard Merry's faint voice calling, however, that Liliana realised the drain was actually the mouth to a deep pit.

Liliana flung herself down on her knees and peered through the iron grille. Far below, she could see Merry's white face staring up at her. She cried his name.

‘Lili! What are you doing here? It's too dangerous. He'll be back soon!'

‘Merry, I'm so sorry! Please, please forgive me! Oh, Merry! Are you hurt?'

‘I've broken my arm . . . and I'm rather bruised. It's a long way down.'

‘I'm so sorry,' she wept incoherently, stretching her arm through the grill in a vain attempt to reach him. ‘Oh, Merry, I was so stupid. I should never have left you . . .'

‘If you hadn't, we'd both be caught now,' he said. ‘Have you got the feather?'

‘Yes, I've got it.'

‘Did Tom-Tit-Tot tell you . . . I think I've solved the puzzle . . . the order in which to sew the feathers.'

‘We'll get you out and then you can tell me.' She began to fit one key after another into the padlock which held the grille closed, but they were all too big. She screamed aloud in frustration and shook it with both hands. ‘I can't! I can't open it!'

‘He'd keep the key with him,' Merry said. ‘That's why he doesn't need a guard.'

She shook the bars again with both hands, then heaved with all her strength. It did not budge.

‘Lili, you can't stay. If he catches you, he'll have the cloak and all the feathers too. Whatever you do, don't be caught!'

‘Who? Who has it?'

‘Ambrozius . . . the astronomer . . . oh, and Lili . . . our spy was Zakary . . . he killed the swans and paid Wilhelm and Annie to spy on us . . .'

‘I knew it!' Liliana cried, conveniently forgetting she was the one who had laughed the idea to scorn. She slammed her hand into the floor. ‘That rotten, lying, sneaking scoundrel!'

‘There's a plot to blow up Rozalina's tower . . . it'll be done under cover of the fireworks . . . Lili, you've got to get her out before the fireworks . . . get her and Zed to safety . . . the whole tower will collapse.'

‘But . . . but . . .'

‘Don't worry about me. You can't get me out.'

‘I'm not leaving you!'

‘You have to! Ambrozius will soon be back. I'll . . . I'll try to keep him occupied. You fix the cloak of feathers, give it to Zed. There'll be no ship . . . we've been betrayed . . . so he will have to fly far with her, as far as he can. Lili, as soon as you've given him the cloak of feathers, I want you to go. Get out of here. They know . . . nearly everything . . . we'll be the scapegoats for the plot . . .'

As he spoke, Lili argued with him, crying, ‘No! Merry, I can't leave you, no! Please. I love you! Merry!'

‘I love you too,' he said unsteadily. ‘Too much to let you die here. Lili, if you love me, do as I say. We have to save Zed and Rozalina, don't you see? Take the feather. You need to sew it on in this order . . .' Quickly he explained to her his thoughts and made her repeat the anagram several times.

‘Soar pen, soar pen,' she repeated obediently, though her voice was so choked with tears she could scarcely speak.

‘Don't cry,' he said, his own voice as choked. ‘I cannot bear to see you cry. Promise me you'll keep yourself safe, that you'll get away from here.'

‘No! Don't be a fool! I'll come back for you just as soon as I can. Don't despair, Merry, I'll be back.'

She blew a kiss to him with both her hands, caught up her bow and satchel, then ran back through the door and into the blackness of the cellar. She had to feel her way forward with her hands, but this time she had Tom-Tit-Tot to guide her. He flew ahead, turning often to look at her with his glowing red eyes, hissing, ‘This way, don't go astray!'

‘Now to sew the feathers to the cloak!' she murmured to herself. ‘And then to get Merry out of that pit!'

CHAPTER 29
The Boar's Head

T
HE FEAST CONTINUED, COURSE FOLLOWING COURSE, EACH
more strange and horrible than the last.

There was a parade of three hundred peacocks, all roasted and then stuffed back into their skins with the tail feathers sewn back on.

There were pots of lampreys still seething in their boiling water, and hooked out at the moment of death and served with wide-set jaws and grinning teeth upon a bed of buttered onions.

There were whole hedgehogs roasted on a spit, dolphins served with blue jelly, and, to Zed's distress, a pelican served with his beak driven down through his white breast, his belly carved open to show a selection of silver fish. He could not eat it, and neither, he noticed, could Rozalina. She turned her face away, white to her lips.

The old woman who was her attendant uttered a strangled cry and lurched to her feet. Rozalina half-rose and held out one hand to her, but the old woman turned and hobbled away through the crowd, her gnarled hands over her face. Rozalina sat down again, looking distressed. The astronomer smiled his thin smile, and threw a roast dormouse to his panther.

Everyone but Zed attacked the food with relish. He felt as if he were caught in a nightmare. He could barely eat a mouthful, though the king kept sending his squire to him with titbits that turned his stomach—enormous snails so stuffed with milk they oozed out of their shell, and a dish of pink unborn rabbits, boiled and served in a sauce of livers and blood.

‘That is the king's favourite dish,' Adora whispered to him. ‘You must eat it.'

Zed could not. He concealed the poor, limp little things in his napkin and dropped them surreptitiously under the table. Lady Vernisha's fat pug must have smelt what he was doing, because he struggled and struggled till his mistress let him off her lap and then he dived under the table and sat at Zed's foot, gobbling whatever was tossed down to him. His panting, foetid breath on Zed's leg made him feel even sicker, but he was grateful for the dog's help in concealing the food he could not eat.

‘Where is Priscilla?' Adora asked at one point, and Zed smiled and said, ‘Oh, she was not feeling well, poor thing. We're not used to so much rich food.'

Slowly the sun slipped down behind the King's Tower. Shadows fell across the courtyard, and the air grew chillier. Servants came out with lighted lanterns and hung them high over the courtyard.

Zakary sauntered over, saying, ‘What a tedious affair. Care to dance, coz?'

‘Oh, but I wanted this dance,' Zed said, jumping to his feet.

‘Zed, your manners! It would be the height of rudeness for you to monopolise Lady Adora's company all evening. Come, my dear.'

Zakary led Adora down to the courtyard, and at once the two fair heads were together, whispering urgently.

Zed wondered if he could slip away himself, now that the tables were dismantled and people were mingling freely. He was itching for action. He would have gladly fought the whole King's Guard, if only to have an enemy to face and his sword in his hand. This long, false charade was simply unbearable.

He glanced at the astronomer. Ambrozius was still waiting upon the king, acting as his mouthpiece as various lords and ladies brought him gifts, but he too was looking restless and impatient.

A fanfare of trumpets rang out, and the steward ceremoniously brought out a boar's head on a silver platter. It had been garlanded with rosemary and bay leaves and fragrant spring flowers, its jaws propped open with an apple, and its ears pinned back on with skewers. Behind it came a long procession of serving-men carrying platters of steaming roast boar with apples and onions and black truffles, all of which was presented to the king with another flourish of trumpets.

King Zabrak waved one thin, liver-spotted hand and all the court fell silent, the dancers returning hurriedly to the sidelines. Zakary and Adora both quickly returned to their seats, their cheeks flushed, eyes bright with what Zed hoped was not malice.

‘Soon, I hope, it will be the Hag's head I see on a platter before me,' the king croaked. ‘And then it will give me much pleasure to give the hand of my granddaughter to the Count of Estelliana, the next male heir to the throne.'

Zed felt the blood drain from his face. He glanced at Rozalina and saw that she was gripping her hands together till the knuckles were white, and that her lip was caught between her teeth.

The whole courtyard was silent, ready for his response. Slowly Zed got to his feet, and bowed to the king. ‘I thank you, Your Majesty. It is indeed my ardent wish to marry Princess Rozalina, and I hope with all my heart that she looks upon my suit with favour.'

A stir ran over the crowd, and he heard Adora take a sudden sharp breath beside him. Rozalina stared at him, frowning.

‘However, Your Majesty, I cannot accept the charge you have placed upon me.'

The king hissed in a breath, and the crowd stirred and muttered, suddenly fearful. Rozalina smiled.

Zed went on stubbornly, blood mounting to his face. ‘Today is indeed a day of new beginnings, and I cannot think that the death of one of your subjects is the best way to celebrate a betrothal.'

Zakary giggled and said, ‘Oh, my heavens! Such earnestness. It could almost be amusing were it not so stupid.'

Zed flushed crimson. The king leant forward, his jaw working with rage. ‘Do you refuse
me
?'

‘Please, Your Majesty, I mean no offence . . . but I am not an assassin. I cannot go and hunt someone down as though they were some kind of animal.'

‘If a flea bites you, do you not crush it between your fingernails?' the king said contemptuously. ‘Do you not smash a cockroach beneath your heel? What kind of soft-headed talk is this?'

‘Not soft-headed, soft-hearted,' Rozalina said, rising to her feet. ‘And I wish that there was more that saw as clearly as Lord Zedrin.'

Zakary tittered. ‘I do believe it's a love match. How touching!' he said behind his fan to Lady Vernisha, who was watching the byplay with narrowed eyes.

The king's face flushed a strange purplish colour and spittle flew from his thin lips as he cried hoarsely, ‘What is this, a conspiracy? You will do as I tell you, both of you! Lord Zedrin, you will bring me the head of the Hag or lose your own, and you, Rozalina, will lay such a curse upon that treacherous Hag that she shall suffer in agony till she dies, in revenge for the death of your father!'

‘No,' Rozalina said, standing straight and slim in her simple white gown, her feet bare, her black hair hanging to her knees.

‘No?'

‘No.'

‘You dare defy me?' The king's voice shook.

‘I am done with curses. I look to a new beginning for us all.' Rozalina's voice was low but clear, and she fixed her blue eyes upon the king's livid face with no sign of fear or defiance. He stared back at her. For a moment Zed thought that Rozalina had won him over, with her beauty and her strength and her words.

But then Adora's voice rang out, shrill with hatred. ‘Done with curses? When you cursed all my children to die, and cursed your own father?'

Liliana was not very adept at sewing, since she had always had Stiga to mend the many tears she made in her clothes, climbing about the ruins of Stormlinn Castle and the mountains behind. Yet she wished to be sure that each of the feathers was sewn securely to the cloak. It would take her some time, she knew. She had to find somewhere safe and quiet where she could sit and sew without being interrupted.

So, with Tom-Tit-Tot bounding ahead of her, she hurried back along the underground passageway towards the Tower of Stars, and came at last to the steps that led up to the courtyard where the feast was taking place. She could hear the loud hum of conversation over the sound of flutes and lyres and drums. She did not climb the steps but went on, looking for a doorway that would lead her to the wildkin zoo. That was, she thought, the one place she could hide where no-one would think to look for her. To the starkin, their captives were dangerous and wild. For Liliana, they were her friends and comrades.

It was easy enough to find the keys to the wildkin pens—they were on a hook in the room behind, which was hung with dried haunches of ham and bacon, and filled with barrels of corn and seed and beans. Whips and prods and chains were hung all over the wall.

First Liliana found the key to the omen-imps' pen. She paused to address Tom-Tit-Tot who was jumping up and down in his impatience.

‘Wait here till you hear my call,' she whispered. ‘Keep your brothers and sisters quiet for me, and I promise you a chance to shriek and shout all you want.'

‘Shriek and shout, when you let us out,' Tom-Tit-Tot replied and flew into the pen to have a joyous and hideous dance in the air with the other omen-imps. Liliana left the door to the pen closed but unlocked, so he could escape if anything happened to her, then found the cage she wanted, the last in the row. She quietly unlocked the door and slipped inside.

BOOK: The Wildkin’s Curse
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