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

middle of the chaos and stood with his mouth open, trying to make sense of the babble. Amiable glanced over at him and almost spat. “Day people!” she said. “We should never have let them in.”

Sibelius bowed awkwardly. “My apologies,” he said. “I was just wondering . . .”

“Go back to sleep. Back with your precious princess. At least none of you are any trouble when you’re snoring.”

“Princess Georgette?” said Sibelius, looking bewildered. “She’s not asleep.”

Amina whipped around to face him. “Georgette isn’t in the bedchamber?”

“No,” said Sibelius. “I thought perhaps . . . I thought she could show me where to get . . . to get breakfast . . .” He trailed off, looking from witch to witch. “Of course, if it’s inconvenient . . .”

Oni snorted. “Georgie was probably frightened and ran away too,” she said. “I bet you weren’t very nice to her.”

“Witches aren’t nice,” said Amiable. “That’s not what witches are for.”

“She was talking about wanting to lead the rebellion,” Helios said, looking conscience-stricken. “But I was too busy . . .”

“See, I told you,” said Amiable. “Never trust a royal.”

Missus Clay stood slowly, lifting her hands for silence. She suddenly seemed very weary. “We must search the Undercroft first,” she said. “Juin, you do that. But it seems very likely, does it not, that the two people who most matter in our fight against the Specters are now loose and unprotected in the streets of Clarel?”

“Yes,” said Amina. “It does. And my own daughter had a part in it.”

Missus Clay drew a trembling hand across her forehead. “Then we must find them. If it’s not too late.”

“They’re probably hiding from witches,” said Oni. “But they both trust me. So maybe I should look for them.”

“You dare move a step outside the Undercroft, young lady, and I will have your hide.” Amina’s voice was trembling with rage. “You’ve done enough harm already.”

“It’s not me who did the harm,” said Oni. She was standing very straight, and her mouth was set in a stubborn line. “I bet some of you would be very happy to murder Pip, and Georgette too, if you thought it would save your scrawny necks. Well, I’m not happy about that. It’s not their fault we’re in such a mess.”

“It will be their fault if the Specters get hold of them,” said Amiable. “And yours too, if you helped them betray us.”

Oni gasped, as if she had been slapped. “I’ve betrayed no one,” she said hotly. “But maybe some of you should have a good hard look at yourselves and think about the Laws. Do you remember those Laws? Maybe you’re just like Specters and think they don’t matter.”

“I think everybody should calm down,” said Missus Orphint. Like Oni, she had been sitting quietly apart, not participating in the argument. “Yes, it might be too late. But Oni has a point. Nobody listened to her, or to young Pip. Or, it seems, to Princess Georgette. It could be that Old Missus Pledge was wrong about the spell. Maybe there’s another way.”

Bottomly popped into sight on the table. “With all due respect, Missus Orphint, we’ve been trying to come up with another way for hours and there isn’t one.”

“Well, I don’t care what any of you think,” said Oni. “Everybody says that we have to find Pip and Georgette, and that it’s my fault for letting Pip go, so I’ll go find them. No, Ma, you can’t stop me. I’m not a child any-more. I’m pretty sure I know how to find Pip. So I’ll start there.”

El looked up at Oni, blinking tears out of her eyes, and took her hand. “Will you really, Oni? You’ll find Pip and bring him back to me?”

Oni’s face softened. She bent down and kissed El’s hair. “I will find him, my dearest El,” she whispered. “It’ll be easy; I’ll use a spell.” She strode to the exit and then turned around, her eyes flashing with rage. “You all look after El. She’s worth more than the rest of you put together. At least she has a heart.”

After Oni stormed out, there was a long, awkward silence. It was broken by a loud gurgle from Sibelius’s stomach. He flushed and apologized. “I haven’t eaten, you see, since . . .”

Amiable studied him thoughtfully, her expression inscrutable, high spots of color flying on her cheeks. Sibelius, already familiar with Amiable’s sharp tongue, braced himself for abuse.

“If you like, I’ll take you to the bakery tent,” she said. “They’ve brought in new supplies from Armand’s. I’m hungry, too.”

“WHICH WAY DO WE GO?” PRINCESS GEORGETTE pushed a sweaty lock of hair out of her eyes. They had hit another dead end. She had had no idea that Clarel was so full of streets that went nowhere.

“Just wait here,” Pip said, and disappeared back the way they had come.

For an hour she and Pip had been scurrying through the outer suburbs of Clarel, heading, so Pip told her, for the city walls. Pip had said he was planning to hide in the countryside until the trouble passed. He was a bit vague about where they would go, or who would hide them, though he said he had relatives who would be happy to see a long-lost cousin and would help them.

They had had a short argument when Georgette suggested they return to the Undercroft. Pip was adamant that they shouldn’t, and Georgette, unsure that she would be permitted back after running away, didn’t feel confident enough to push it.

Making their way through the dusty streets of Clarel on Midsummer Day was thirsty work, especially the way Pip did it. Sometimes they ran down narrow lanes; sometimes they crept along walls; sometimes they doubled back the way they had come; sometimes she stood for ages in a doorway while Pip peered around corners. When she had complained of thirst, Pip had bought a mug of sour ale with some coins, and shared with her. It was Georgette’s turn