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

that you had better tell me everything that has been going on here,” she said. “And yes, leave the strangers tied up for the present. We really have no idea who they are.”

She glanced around the kitchen. Everybody looked exhausted.

“And then we’d all better get some sleep. It’s been a hard night, and right now I can’t see that today is going to be any better.”

Oni laughed, with a little sob. “Oh, Ma, that is such a you thing to say!” She ran up to Amina and threw her arms around her neck and hid her face in her shoulder, hugging her as tightly as she could.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write you back,” Oni whispered, her voice muffled. “I knew you’d worry. But I didn’t know what to say . . .”

Amina felt the last of her anger drain out of her. “I’m just glad you’re not dead.” She breathed in the smell of Oni’s hair, a faint scent of rosemary and sweat. “So glad.”

WHEN LADY AGATHE DREW BACK THE BROCADE curtains on the princess’s bed and discovered it empty, she let out a shriek and ran to the duchess, who was in the dressing room preparing the princess’s wardrobe. “Don’t be ridiculous,” said the duchess, shaking out a skirt. “Of course she’s here.”

“But, ma’am, she’s nowhere to be seen,” wailed Lady Agathe. “I looked everywhere in the chamber, and under her bed . . . And her nightdress on the floor, like she just dropped it there . . .”

At that the duchess came to see for herself, followed by the rest of Georgette’s ladies-in-waiting. It was true: there was no sign of the princess anywhere, in her bedchamber or anywhere else in the royal rooms. The duchess said some unladylike words under her breath.

“Where could she be?” said one of the younger ladies. “Maybe she climbed out of the window again?”

“It’s not unlikely,” said the duchess coldly. “Even though she pretended to be as sweet as pie, she was always abominably disobedient.”

“But, ma’am, it’s three floors up,” said another lady doubtfully. They all looked at the window, which had been opened to let in the morning sun, sparkling and clean after the overnight tempest. There were no useful vines or trees that would have aided any erring princess bent on fleeing the palace, and even if Georgette had succeeded in climbing down three floors, she would have landed in an enclosed garden in the center of the palace. After some early adventures, Princess Georgette’s chambers had been chosen with particular care to foil any thoughts of escape.

“Why would she do that, and her just betrothed?” Lady Agathe clasped her hands together. “And how could she get past the guards?”

“I shall have something to say about your dereliction of duty later, Agathe,” said the duchess. “But first, we must find her.”

Lady Agathe paled. As the lady-in-waiting charged that night with ensuring Princess Georgette’s safety, she would be the first one blamed for the disappearance.

“Maybe she got up earlier,” said another lady, “and was hungry or something, so she went to the kitchen. I mean, she’s done that before.”

“And nobody saw her?” said the duchess. “Not a guard? Not a servant? Have you checked?”

A half hour later, they had ascertained that the guards who stood all night outside the royal chambers had seen nothing. Nor had any servants. Some guards reported feeling cramps and headaches in the night watches, and one said he was sure he had been put under some kind of spell. None of the princess’s clothes were missing, nor any of her possessions. She had simply vanished into thin air.

By now all the ladies were in a panic. A couple of them, like Lady Agathe, were genuinely fond of Georgette and worried about what had happened to her; but all of them were most worried about what might happen to them.

“Witchcraft,” said one of the ladies at last. “It must be witches.”

“Witches!” cried another, who prided herself on her sensitive nature, and swooned. Everybody rushed to revive her with smelling salts except Lady Agathe, who was looking thoughtful.

“It’s the only explanation,” she said. “I was cast into an enchanted sleep by some foul magic . . .”

The duchess didn’t believe in witches, although she never said so aloud. She had always considered that a belief in magic was base and vulgar superstition, and besides, she had never seen a witch with her own eyes. But she did believe sincerely in the punishments that would come her way when she had to tell King Axel that his only daughter — the jewel of his kingdom, and the seal of his alliance with the kingdom of Awemt — had gone missing.

She blamed Princess Georgette. She had never trusted that girl, not ever. She was sly enough to have crept out through the palace disguised as a servant or some such, fooling everybody. And everyone knew that Lady Agathe had the brains of a pigeon. It would take nothing to deceive her.

“I agree,” said the duchess. “I cannot think of any other way that Princess Georgette could have vanished so completely, without anyone noticing.” She drew a shuddering breath and added ominously, “A great evil is afoot in this palace.”

She crossed her scrawny chest and squared her shoulders. As senior lady-in-waiting, it was her unpleasant duty to tell the king the terrible news. She imagined his response and shuddered. Perhaps, she reflected, it would be wiser to get the ordeal over as quickly as possible.

She hurried through the palace to the king’s chambers, flustered and upset, foreseeing disaster for herself and her family unless she could absolve herself of blame. The king was still dressing, but when she said it was an emergency she was permitted into his room.

He was every bit as angry as she had expected. She braced herself against his rage, blinking fast.

“Perhaps, sire, the princess disguised herself as a servant,” said one of his lackeys, once the first gust passed. “She may