Page 53 of Skysong

Andala’s head snapped back to the visitors. They were ascending the stairs now, the king in the lead, Terault at his side. It was the seneschal who had addressed her, called hergirl. She did not like him at the best of times. She loathed him now.

‘I’m trying to get her to eat,’ she said, with as much defiance as she could muster. If Rene had heard, she would know now that the king had not sent her to do so. But that was the least of her worries. The king drew face-to-face with her, raising his lantern to see her better. With effort, Andala held his gaze.

‘And has she eaten?’ King Tomas asked at last.

Andala shook her head.

He let out a frustrated sound. ‘You see, Terault? This is why I’m worried. This is why what I propose must be done. We simply have no other option. If she dies, if she escapes—’

The ballroom doors flew open again. A flood of light from the hallway cast a golden square into the gloom, bearing another figure forward. Andala recognised this one. It was Kitt, and he was running towards them.

He hurried to the platform, his lantern swinging precariously. ‘Your Majesty, wait—’

‘Not now, Kitt,’ the king said impatiently. ‘Reynold, come forward – I want you to take another look.’

Andala slipped to the side as the group of men swarmed around the cage, blocking Oriane from view. Alarmed at the look on Kitt’s192face, she drew him aside as the men began to examine Oriane, nattering back and forth in too-loud voices.

‘What’s going on, Kitt?’

‘She’s in danger,’ he panted, pushing hair back from his brow. He had clearly run here from the other side of the palace. ‘He wants to start using force.’

‘Using … What does that mean?’

‘Exactly what it sounds like.’ Kitt was watching Tomas with a strange, disbelieving look on his face, as if he had never seen this man who claimed to be king. ‘Force her. Hurt her.’

Andala’s stomach dropped. ‘What do we do?’

Kitt turned to her. Even in the dim light she could see the helplessness on his face. ‘I don’t know. I don’t have any alternative to offer him.’

She stared at the crowd around Oriane, their candles and lanterns blurring into a blaze of gold.Think,Andala.Think.Her mind was churning laboriously. She could almost hear it whir and clank, like the cogs of one of Kitt’s machines—

Andala stretched out a hand and caught Kitt’s shirtsleeve. Her eyes flew to Oriane, who was as stiff and immobile as a child’s wooden toy.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘We do have an alternative.’

‘What? No we d—’

‘A mechanical bird.’

Kitt looked at her blankly. ‘A what?’

‘You’re going to build a skylark. A replica. One that looks like her, sings with her song. I’ve seen your inventions, Kitt – I know you can do it.’

His expression had turned pitying. Clearly, he thought her delusional, desperate. Perhaps she was. ‘I could build a model, yes.193But Andala – we just talked about this. The song is the key, and I can’t replicate that. Nobody can.’

Andala took a steadying breath. She did not want to do what she was about to offer to do. But things had turned dire, and she had no choice. ‘I might know somebody who can. Somebody who knows enough about it to try, anyway.’

Kitt’s brows shot up, and he opened his mouth to respond, but Andala cut him off.

‘You just have to trust me, Kitt. Please. At the very least I can buy you some time. Tell him you’re working on the mechanical lark, that you’ve figured out a way to make it sing just like her. I’ll be gone for a few days, a week at the most. Just keep him away from her for that long. Please.’

Kitt was already nodding. Relief washed through Andala. She gripped his arm briefly, hoping to infuse the touch with reassurance and gratitude. Then he was off, striding towards the king, shoulders set and fists clenched at his sides.

She hung back, hoping to fade into the shadows, as Kitt spoke to Tomas. The other men watched on curiously. Through a gap in their midst, Andala’s eyes fell on Oriane. She still had not moved. It was as if nothing could rouse her, not even a group of strangers arguing over her fate right above her head, as if she were nothing more than a bird: simple and dull, unfeeling, unconcerned. The precise opposite of everything Andala knew the real Oriane to be.

‘If this doesn’t work, Kitt, the consequences—’

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