I was not sure I believed him. I felt more uneasy than ever. “I don’t think anyone else in the kingdom is aware of what the aura chamber really does. How did you and my father learn the truth?”
“That is not important. Just stay far away from that aura chamber and the wizard who built it. Good day, Miss Upton.”
Withypole turned to go, but this time I was the one who seized his arm.
“Wait a minute.”
Withypole cast me an impatient look. “What now? I have explained to you all that I could.”
“Not by half, you haven’t! There is one important thing you neglected to mention. You took something from that churn that looked like a broken icicle. I am assuming that it contained information about me?”
“Only a little because I stopped the machine.”
“And you took it.”
He shrugged. “Yes, I did. What of it?”
“What of it! By rights, that shard should belong to me.”
“It will be safer in my hands. Trust me.”
“You will pardon me if I don’t think so.” I held out my palm. “Please give me my icicle.”
“No.”
“Hand it over, Mr. Fugitate. Right now.”
“NO!”
“Give it to me or - or else.”
“Or else what?”
By this point, we were standing nose to nose, glaring into each other’s eyes. I realized that it was rash to threaten someone with the power to render me asleep with a puff of his breath. I have no idea what might have happened next if we had not been interrupted by a discreet cough. Startled, Withypole and I glanced around to see we were no longer alone in the stairwell. At some point, we had been joined by the king’s majordomo.
The bland little man’s gray uniform made it seem like he could have faded straight out of the walls. How long had he been standing there observing my argument with Withypole? For that matter, what was the king’s servant even doing here?
Before I could react to his sudden appearance, the majordomo said, “Pardon me, Miss Upton, but I was passing by on my way to the Registry Office and I could not help noticing you appear to be in some distress. Has this person stolen something from you? Shall I summon the Scutcheons?”
"That will not be necessary," I said. "We were merely having a small disagreement."
The majordomo raised his eyebrows. "Disagreement? This stranger appeared to be menacing you."
“He is not a stranger. He is—” I hesitated. I could not exactly call Withypole a friend of mine. “He is an acquaintance. This is Mr. Fugitate and he is?—”
Gone.
I turned to introduce Withypole to the majordomo just in time to see the last of the fairy's coattails as he disappeared beneath the arch leading back to the garrison. Vanishing with the shard of my memories tucked in his pocket. But which ones? Did Withypole possess the same magical capability as Mercato to read that crystal? What would the fairy do if the icicle revealed I had stolen that orb for Mal? Run straight to Horatio with the information?
Trust me.Withypole had said, but I didn’t. I had to get that shard back, but I could not chase after the fairy with the majordomo’s suspicious gaze fixed upon me. Even though I was angry and frustrated with Withypole, I did not want to risk the majordomo raising an alarm that might get the fairy thrown into the Dismal Dungeons.
I forced a smile, saying, “It appears Mr. Fugitate was in a hurry to return to work. He keeps a very interesting shop down in Misty Bottoms.”
“I see.” The majordomo regarded me with a concerned expression. “You will forgive me for saying so, Miss Upton, butthis Fugitate strikes me as a disreputable sort. Not at all the kind of person with whom a future princess should consort.”
“Since I have no intention of ever becoming a princess, that is not something I have to worry about.”
“I'm very disappointed to hear that,” the majordomo said.