The Threads of Magic, Alison Croggon [uplifting novels txt] 📗

you now. But since one of our respected colleagues requested that we take you from the palace, we are happy to welcome you to the Undercroft.”

Georgette was beginning to feel dizzy, but she tried to pull herself together. “It’s an honor to meet you,” she said.

“We would not normally interfere in royal business,” said Missus Clay. “But it seems that the Specters are moving, and Amina says that you are one of the major pawns. So it is better that we remove you from the board altogether.”

Georgette didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t much like the idea of being a pawn.

“What a poor, miserable scrap,” said a man at the table. “She’s wet through. Didn’t you give her a rain charm, Amiable?”

“Do you think I had the energy, after putting a whole palace to sleep?” said Amiable sulkily. “I would have thought a simple thank-you would suffice.”

She stretched and yawned. And then her form blurred, and before Georgette’s eyes Amiable transformed into a young, dark-haired woman. She was wearing no clothes, but this didn’t seem to embarrass Amiable or anyone else. She stretched again. “That’s better,” she said.

Georgette’s dizziness was getting worse, and there was a roaring in her ears, as if she might faint. It was true, she was cold and miserable. Her clothes clung damply around her body. She could see steam rising from them in the warmth of the tent. But she was a princess, and princesses don’t faint. She swayed and almost fell, clutching at the cloth wall of the tent.

The old woman took her elbow and led her to a chair. For all her apparent frailty, her hand was very strong. “First a change of clothes and a hot drink,” she said. “She’s freezing.”

It was amazing how much better Georgette felt when she was dry and warm. She was given some different clothes, breeches and a shirt and a waistcoat as before, and changed hurriedly at the back of the pavilion. Nobody was looking, but that didn’t make her feel any less self-conscious.

By the time Georgette returned to the others, Amiable had put on a crimson dress. She was disconcertingly pretty, with the same black hair and green eyes she had as a cat, except that now her pupils were round. Georgette felt more shy and uncertain than she ever had in her life.

There was a silence as everyone there studied her with open curiosity, aside from a sprite who was seated on the table itself. It was deeply absorbed in a game of knuckle-bones. The bones it was using were tiny. Georgette stared at them distractedly. Were they rat knuckles? Did rats have knuckles?

The sprite felt her gaze and glanced up at her. She just had time to see that its eyes were bright yellow before it vanished. Georgette blinked. The knuckles kept bouncing up and down by themselves.

“Stop it, Bottomly,” said the man who had spoken earlier. “The poor thing’s already confused enough.”

Georgette blinked again and politely averted her eyes from the levitating knuckles. The sprite popped back into sight. “Sorry, Helios,” it said.

Helios smiled reassuringly at Georgette, and she gave a wavering smile back. He had golden hair and was wearing a high top hat, a yellow waistcoat, and a long red skirt. His eyes were deeply kind.

“Better now?” said Amiable. “I’m sorry about the rain. It couldn’t be helped.”

“Yes, thank you,” said Georgette.

“Good,” said Amiable. “So how, may I ask, are you going to help us?”

Everyone at the table, including the sprite, looked at Georgette as if she had an answer. She felt herself blushing again. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t even know if all this is real.”

“I told you that was rude.” Amiable pouted.

“Hush, Amiable,” said Missus Clay.

By now Georgette was scarlet, but she sat up as straight as she could. “Did Amina ask you to rescue me?”

“Missus Bemare to you,” said Amiable sharply, a flash of green fire in her eyes. “I’m still not sure that it wasn’t you that got Missus Bemare arrested by the Office for Witchcraft Extermination.”

“Amin — Missus Bemare has been arrested?” said Georgette, shocked. “I would never in a thousand years do anything to hurt Am — Missus Bemare. Not for anything. She’s like . . . she’s like my mother.”

“Missus Bemare was your wet nurse,” Amiable snapped. “Do you think she had any choice about that?”

“Darling, you’re embarrassing us,” said Helios.

“Speak for yourself, sunboy,” said Amiable.

“I don’t believe the princess informed on Missus Bemare,” said Missus Clay. “There are many things at play in the city. Although it’s always possible that I’m wrong.”

Georgette was quiet. Perhaps it was her fault, even if she hadn’t intended harm. She shouldn’t have gone to Amina for help. But there was no one else.

“We should never let outsiders in,” said Amiable. “And this one’s a royal outsider . . .”

The man next to Amiable patted her pale hand with his dark one. “This is the safest place, Amy,” he said. “We talked it over with Amina, remember?”

“I still think it’s wrong, Potier. But I got her here, didn’t I?”

“Enough.” Missus Clay’s voice cut across the murmurs that were rising around the table. “For better or worse, and I hope for better, we decided to bring the princess here. I think it is likely for the better.”

Georgette’s heart was sinking into her boots. She had no idea why she had been brought to this place or what these people expected of her. The only person who could guide her through this was Amina, and Amina wasn’t here. “How do you know she was taken?”

“She sent word,” said Missus Clay. “Before she went into shutdown. Probably when they had her in the wagon, all in chains.”

“She’s not back yet,” said a very short man who hadn’t yet spoken. “And nobody’s heard anything. It’s a bad sign. They probably took her to the torture chambers.”

“Juin, the voice of doom,” said Potier mockingly. “Of course we’ve heard nothing. That’s protocol, isn’t it?”

Georgette