32
COMONOT AND I reached his quarters at the same time; Kiggs had arrived well before us with a few guards he’d picked up along the way. We entered just as a guard rushed back out, and we soon saw why: Kiggs had sent him running for the physician.
Kiggs and the other guard helped Princess Dionne off the floor, trying to get her into a semi-upright position on the couch. Kiggs reached a couple of fingers into her mouth, trying to make her vomit. She obliged, a sticky purple mess right into the guard’s waiting helmet, but she didn’t look any better afterward.
She’d gone green; her eyes showed a disturbing amount of white, and she couldn’t seem to focus them. “Apsig! Wine!” she croaked. The guard, taking that as a request, began to pour her a glass from the bottle on the table, but Kiggs slapped the glass out of his hand. It shattered across the floor.
“The wine has made her ill, obviously,” said Kiggs through gritted teeth, trying to keep his aunt from falling off the couch as she convulsed. Comonot rushed in to help restrain her. “How long have you had that bottle, Ardmagar?”
“That’s not mine. She must have brought it with her.” His eyes grew wide. “Did she intend to poison me?”
“Don’t be an idiot!” said Kiggs, letting his anger run roughshod over his manners. “Why would she have drunk it herself?”
“Remorse at what she was about to do?”
“That’s not how it works, you stupid dragon!” cried Kiggs, his voice choked with tears, wiping foam from her lips. “Why was she meeting you here? Why was she bringing you wine? Why do you think you can come to Goredd and play act being human when you know nothing about it?”
“Kiggs,” I said, tentatively placing a hand on his arm. He jerked away from me.
Comonot leaned against the back of the couch, stunned. “I—I don’t know nothing, exactly. That is, I’m feeling something. I don’t know what it is.” He turned pleading eyes toward me, but I did not know what to tell him.
The physician arrived with three female assistants. I helped them carry Dionne to the bed, where they stripped her, sponged her, bled her, fed her charcoal powder, and examined the wine and vomit closely for clues to which antidote they should use. Comonot, who had no business seeing her unclothed, wandered in unchallenged and stood gaping at her. Kiggs paced the outer room.
A terrible notion struck me. I turned to rush out, but Comonot grabbed my sleeve. “Help me,” he said. “I feel something—”
“Guilt,” I snapped, trying to free myself.
“Make it go away!” He looked nakedly terrified.
“I can’t.” I glanced over at the commotion on the bed; Dionne was convulsing again. I felt a pang of pity for the foolish old saar. We were all at a loss, dragon and human both, in the face of death. I put a hand to his fleshy cheek and spoke as to a child: “Stay. Help as you can; she may yet be saved. I have to make sure no one else dies tonight.”
I hurried out to Kiggs. He sat on the couch, elbows on knees, hands covering his mouth, eyes wide. “Kiggs!” He did not look at me. I knelt before him. “Get up. This isn’t over.” He looked at me blankly. I let myself touch his disheveled hair. “Where’s Selda? Where’s your grandmother? We need to make sure they’re safe.”
That did it. He leaped to his feet. We rushed to their respective suites, but neither Queen nor princess was napping in her own bed. “Glisselda intended to talk to her,” Kiggs said. “They’re probably together. In the Queen’s study, or . . .” He shrugged. I turned that direction, but he grabbed a lantern, caught my arm, and took me through a concealed door in the wall of the Queen’s bedroom into a maze of passages.
The way was narrow; I walked behind him. When I could stand the silence no longer, I asked, “You heard your aunt say ‘Apsig’?”
He nodded. “The implication seems clear enough.”
“That Josef gave her the wine? Was it intended merely for the Ardmagar, or—”
“Both, without question.” He looked back at me, his face in shadow: “Aunt Dionne was supposed to have met Comonot at the cathedral.”
“Thomas could not have mistaken me for her.”
“I imagine he recognized you and decided on the spur of the moment that he may as well kill you instead. But recall: you saw Josef near the scene.”
“You thought that was too circumstantial.”
“I did until his name popped up just now!” he cried, the stress of the evening overriding his usual circumspection.
We reached the Queen’s study only to find it empty. Kiggs swore.
“We should split up,” I said. “I’ll check back at the Great Hall.”
He nodded grimly. “I’ll mobilize the Guard. We’ll find them.”
I was already reaching for Abdo with my mind as I scurried toward the hall. Abdo, find Lars. Wait for me near the stage. Can you see Dame Okra?
Abdo spotted the ambassadress near the desserts, then told me he was off to the dressing rooms to find Lars. I reached for Lars to let him know Abdo was coming.
I considered breaking my word and reaching for Dame Okra, but she had been cranky enough earlier and I needed her help now. I needed her power, odd as it was, to live up to its peculiar promise. When I reached the great hall, she was right where Abdo had indicated, having a lively conversation with Fulda, the reclusive dragon ambassador. I skirted the dancing couples, marveling that anyone still had the energy for a volta when it must be nearly dawn. I drew up beside Dame Okra and said, “Pardon me, Ambassador Fulda, but I need to steal Dame Okra for one moment. I fear it’s urgent.”
The good manners were more for her benefit than his. She drew herself up importantly—it didn’t make her any taller—and said, “You heard her, Fulda. Shoo.”
Ambassador Fulda’s eyes shone as he stared at me. “So you’re Maid Dombegh. I am intrigued to make your acquaintance at last.”
I stared back at him, wondering what he’d heard.
“Oh, fie!” cried Dame Okra, swatting him. “She’s no more special than I am, and you’ve known me for years. Come, Seraphina!” She took my arm and hauled me away. “All right, what do you want?” she said when we were off in a corner by ourselves.
I took a deep breath. “We need to find the Queen and Glisselda.”
“They’re not in the study, I suppose?”
I goggled at her. “What does your stomach tell you?”
“My stomach does not take requests, little maidy!” she said haughtily. “It directs me, not the other way around.”
I leaned down into her froggy face, demonstrating beyond all doubt that I was not merely her equal in snarling but would surpass her one day. “You told me your stomach enables you to be in the right place at the right time. The Queen and Glisselda may be in mortal danger this very moment, so I’d say the right place is wherever they are, and the right time is before they come to harm!”
“Well, thank you for the additional information,” she sniffed. “I do need something to go on. It’s not magic, you know. It’s more like indigestion.”
“Is it pointing you anywhere, or not?”
She considered a moment, tapping a finger against her lips. “Yes. Through here.”
She led me toward one door of the hall just as Kiggs came through another. I called and waved; he darted straight across the dance floor toward us, scattering and confounding the dancers. Dame Okra didn’t wait for him but plunged into the corridor, toward the east wing. I followed her at a distance until Kiggs caught up.
“Where are we going?” he asked breathlessly.
“We’ve worked out the location of Glisselda and the Queen,” I said, dreading his next question.
“Where are they?”
“St. Vitt, how should I know?” growled Dame Okra, increasing her speed.
Kiggs turned incredulous eyes on me. “What is this?”
“She has a hunch. I trust it. Let’s give her a chance.”
Kiggs grunted skeptically but followed. We arrived at the door to his beastly tower. Dame Okra rattled the handle, but it was locked. “Where does this go, and do you have a key, Prince?” asked Dame Okra.
“They wouldn’t be up there,” he grumbled, but he fished for his key.
“How would they have gotten in?” I asked as the lock clicked.
“Glisselda has a key. It’s not impossible, but it’s not plausible either—” He stopped short. Hollow voices echoed down the spiral stair. “Saints’ bones!”
Dame Okra made as if to stomp straight up the stairs, but Kiggs stopped her, staring upward intently. He put a finger to his lips and moved silently, a hand on the hilt of his sword; we followed his lead. The door at the top was slightly ajar, letting light and sound drift down toward us. We heard laughter and three . . . no, four different voices. Kiggs motioned us to stay still.
“That’s plenty. Lovely,” said a voice I took to be the Queen’s.
“Thank you!” chirped a voice that was clearly Glisselda’s. “Shouldn’t we wait for my mother and Cousin Lucian?”
A third voice made a muffled reply, followed by the clink of glass upon glass as another wine goblet was filled.
Kiggs turned to us and counted down with his fingers: three, two, one . . .
He threw the door open just as the Queen, Glisselda, and Lady Corongi toasted the new year with a glass of wine. Josef, Earl of Apsig, stood a little apart, the wine bottle in his hand.