Page 98 of Charmless
“She probably scented another of those burrow squirrels,” the second guard replied. “Stupid old thing is always eating them. No wonder she’s getting so fat.”
“Aye, but she only likes the ones with the blonde bushy tails.” The first guard chortled.
Blonde?Like the color of my hair? I gulped as the men went back to their drinking, ignoring the beast’s growls as it prowled after me like a cat stalking its prey.
Surely the beast could tell the difference between me and a burrow squirrel, couldn’t it? My heart thudded in my chest as I backed off the roadway, nearly stumbling as I began to retreat down the slope. In my terrified state, it took me a moment to recall the potion laced cookies Delphine had given me. My fingers trembled as I undid the lacings on the pouch. Groping inside the leather bag, I retrieved a gingerbread mouse and flung it wildly at the beast. The cookie bounced off Mehitabel’s nose. The creature reared back, blinking in surprise. She emitted another snarl, but she paused to examine the object that had struck her. The cat snuffled the gingerbread mouse where it had fallen in a tuft of weeds. She regarded the cookie with momentary suspicion before gulping it down.
I stopped in my tracks, waiting for the aura cat to keel over as Delphine had promised. But Mehitabel cocked her head to one side. Regarding me with renewed interest, she kept comingcloser as I retreated further down the slope, tossing her another cookie. And then another and another. The cat gobbled the gingerbread down greedily. Licking her chops for more, she resumed her pursuit of me.
I had come to trust in Delphine’s magic, believing it infallible, but this time the witch appeared to have made some terrible miscalculation. Digging frantically inside the bag for another cookie, I only came up with crumbs and it was too late to run. As the aura cat closed in on me, I closed my eyes and flung up my hands in a feeble effort to ward off her claws and sharp teeth.
But a strange noise emanated from the creature. It almost sounded like she was purring. Daring to open my eyes, I found Mehitabel regarding me with sleepy adoration. She rubbed her massive head against my arm in an affectionate gesture before sinking back onto her haunches. Her golden eyes rolled back in her head before she tumbled over. Her legs twitched for a second and then went still, her sides rumbling with soft snores.
I exhaled a shaky breath of relief, but I could not afford to linger until I recovered from my fright. I didn’t know how long the cat would remain asleep or when one of the guards might notice something was amiss with the beast and come to investigate.
Hurrying back up the slope, I passed by the guards at the gatehouse and beneath a narrow archway that led into a small courtyard lit by torches. I could see the door that must lead into the main part of the prison, but much to my frustration, another obstacle blocked my way.
Two men stood just outside the door, engaged in an intense conversation. The taller one was clad in a prison guard uniform, his broad face dominated by a prominent nose, thick lips, and a cleft chin. Unlike the other guards, a pair of silvery epauletsadorned his wide shoulders. I presumed he must be the Chief Warder of the prison.
He completely dwarfed his companion, a small man whose nondescript features sent a jolt of recognition through me. The king’s majordomo. What in the world was he doing here? And how was I going to squeeze past him to reach the prison door?
I approached cautiously. Even though I was invisible, I risked exposing my presence if I accidentally bumped up against either man in my efforts to get around them. At least their voices obscured the light tap of my heels against the stone floor.
“The Royal Garrotter knows his business,” the Chief Warder was saying. “He’s as skilled at the arts of torture as he is at choking the life out of a man. But some prisoners are not easily broken. This rogue is as stubborn as I’ve ever seen. I realize the Great Mercato will not be pleased.”
“No,hewill not be,” the majordomo said. His lips twitched in an odd smile, but the ice in his voice chilled me. I shuddered, wondering what unfortunate prisoner they were discussing, hoping it was not Mal.
“We’ll get the rogue to talk,” the Chief Warder insisted. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“Unfortunately, time is running out. I should have known better than to depend upon—” Whatever else the Majordomo was about to say was lost in the distant clang of a bell.
For one dreadful moment, I feared someone had found the unconscious aura cat and was sounding an alarm, but the Warder said, “Ah, someone approaching the gates. We appear to have a late arrival.”
“Who would be coming here at this time of night?” the majordomo demanded.
“Most likely His Royal Highness. Prince Florian often comes under cover of darkness to replenish his supply of – er – you know what.”
The notion that Florian might be arriving sent a jolt of panic through me. I had to suppress the urge to shove my way past the Warder and the majordomo to get to Mal as quickly as possible.
The majordomo scowled at the warder. “The king has outlawed the selling of pixie dust, even to the royal princes. Not only could you lose your post, but you could also find yourself locked in your own dungeon.”
The Chief Warder shrugged, looking unmoved by these threats. “I haven’t been selling anything. We arrested Mimsy Peasecod, the Chieftana of the pixies and imprisoned her, so if Prince Florian comes here to obtain his dust, who am I to tell him nay? Now I should go and greet our visitor in case it is the prince. Will you accompany me?”
“No, if it is Florian, it would be better if the prince remains unaware that I am here.”
When the warder’s brows lifted in surprise, the majordomo explained, “The king disapproves of his son’s little habit. Since I am his father’s devoted servant, Prince Florian would be vexed and embarrassed if he knew I was privy to the source of his secret stash. It will be best if I wait in your office until the prince is gone.”
“Suit yourself.”
I barely had time to shrink out of the way as the warder brushed by me. Disappearing beneath the arch, he headed toward the front gates. The majordomo hammered on the prison door. A panel slid open, and a guard peered out. As soon as the guard realized it was a servant of the king demanding admittance, I heard the click of a bolt and the door swung open. I had barely enough time to hurry after the majordomo and follow him inside before the guard slammed the door closed and bolted it again.
The majordomo exchanged a quiet word with the guard before walking off down a narrow corridor to the left. Ipresumed that must be the way to the warder’s office. Frowning, I watched the little man vanish from view. Something about the majordomo’s excuse for not wanting to meet the prince rang false to me. The prince’slittlehabitwas no secret. Although few dared to speak about it, it was known that both Prince Florian and his younger brother Kendrick were addicted to pixie dust sniffing. I doubted that Florian would have cared if a mere servant like the majordomo caught His Highness coming to the prison to collect his fresh supply of dust.
So why was the majordomo so anxious to avoid Florian? I had no time to worry or wonder about that now. If that was Florian arriving, the sooner I found Mal and spirited him away from here, the better.
But where to go next? In the chamber ahead of me, I spotted what appeared to be the opening to a staircase leading down. Most likely that was the way to the dungeons. But to reach it, I had to creep through a large chamber where the prison guards must have been allowed to relax between shifts. A wrought-iron chandelier hung over a round rough-hewn table, the flickering candles illuminating three guards lounging on stools. Two were playing at cards while the third was engrossed in a book titled,Naughty Sirens of Lothmara.The book must have been of a salacious nature because a bit of drool trickled down the guard’s chin.
Besides the pikes and swords mounted on the wall, the only other thing in the room was a cage suspended from the ceiling. Whatever sort of bird it contained was concealed beneath a folded pair of faded blue wings. Even though I was invisible, I had no wish to rouse the creature and set it to squawking. I was getting quite good at moving stealthily even in the glass heels. The guards never once looked up from their occupations. But the blue bird’s hearing must have been keener.
