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

Georgette wasn’t hungry, so she shook her head. “I just wanted to ask what I can do to help the revolt,” she said.

Missus Clay looked Georgette up and down. “I know it’s hard for you, being used to being at the center of royal affairs and so on,” she said. She spoke quite kindly. “At the moment, there’s nothing for you to do, except make sure that you keep out of the way of Specters. That’s the most important thing of all.”

“But . . . I could really help with the rebellion.” Georgette tried to keep the frustration out of her voice, but even she could hear it. “It’s ridiculous just to hide here when I could be out, you know . . .”

“On a white horse leading the charge, like your grandfather in all the paintings?” Missus Clay’s gaze was discomfitingly sharp. “I can tell you for a fact there was no white horse. He didn’t even have a sword. Your grandfather just went into the palace with an axe and a lot of angry people and chopped off the king’s head.”

Georgette blushed. “No, I wasn’t thinking that. But surely if a princess of the blood stepped forward and said . . .”

“See, there’s the problem,” said Missus Clay. “All this stuff about blood. It’s all very well, Axel the blacksmith chopping off people’s heads, but it’s not like it actually stopped the Specters, did it? And after he took over, things were no better for witches than they had been before.” She took out a huge yellow handkerchief and dabbed her mouth. “We learned to never trust princes. Or princesses, for that matter.”

“You can trust me,” said Georgette hotly. “I’d never betray Amina.”

Again that sharp look. “Maybe,” said Missus Clay. “Maybe we could trust you now. But could we trust you in a year’s time? In five years’ time? That’s the real question.”

“Why would I change?” Georgette tried to keep her voice reasonable. “Especially if the witches helped me. That would be breaking my word.”

Missus Clay briskly brushed the crumbs off the table and stood up. “My dear, I don’t want to be harsh. But we know through bitter experience that the word of a royal isn’t worth the air it stains.”

“Then why bother to take me from the palace? Why bring me here?”

“That was Amina’s notion, my dear. She was right, because it would be bad if you married Oswald. But it does leave us with the puzzle of what to do with you in the meantime . . .”

“But . . .” Georgette started to say, and then she bit her lip and stared down at her hands. She felt like crying.

All she had ever been was something that nobody knew what to do with. For her father, she was a nuisance — at best a bargaining chip. The queen hated her, because the princess held a rival court. For Amina, she had just been a burden, a task that the palace had told her to do. She had always thought that Amina loved her, or at least liked her, but now she wasn’t even sure of that.

Nobody wanted her. Nobody needed her.

Missus Clay took her hand and squeezed it. “Don’t think I don’t feel for you,” she said. “I know it’s hard and strange for you here, girl, but things are very dangerous. I think you’ll manage fine with us once you get used to it. But right now we have Specters to deal with, and then we need to get rid of the royals, because that’s where the rot begins. I can tell you have a good heart; that’s why I’m straight with you. Now, I’ve got things to do.”

Georgette watched Missus Clay walk off. She felt a bit stunned.

In her wildest dreams, she hadn’t even imagined that the witches might want to get rid of royalty altogether. How could you have a kingdom without a monarch? Who would be in charge? There had to be someone in charge. And you couldn’t have witches running things. All they did was argue with each other.

The witches didn’t know they needed her yet. But they did.

Georgette went back to her out-of-the-way stool and brooded deeply. Since nobody was going to help her, she figured that she would have to help herself. She tied her hair up and put on her cap.

If she remained down here, she was only a pawn in somebody else’s game. It was no different from being stuck in the palace. So she should just leave. Since everybody was ignoring her, maybe she could creep out without anybody noticing. She wasn’t wearing a princess dress, so once she was out of the tent she would look like anybody else.

In all the histories she had read, rebellions always had an inspiring figurehead. She should be that inspiring figurehead. She had trained her whole life for it. The first thing, she thought, was to find the leaders of the rebellion. She would have to avoid the witches, because they would bring her back here. She had to make the witches see how they needed her.

She listened to the conversations going on around her and tried to piece together the information she overheard. The Undercroft entrance was near the Furrier’s Bridge. She summoned to memory the city maps she had studied in the palace library. If she crossed the bridge, she would be very near the Weavers’ Quarter, which was where the main rebellion was happening. She could ask her way if she got lost.

She yawned and stood up. Helios was passing and glanced at her.

“I think I’ll find some breakfast,” she said.

“Good idea,” Helios replied vaguely as he hurried off. “Get some food while you can.”

Georgette walked out of the tent. Nobody stopped her. Once she was out, she kept walking.

It took her some time to find the exit. The Undercroft was more crowded than it had been the night before, but now it wasn’t like a