Jared wiped sweat from his lip. He had never seen Claudia so furious as when she had torn it to shreds.
Confusion erupted.
A scream of anger, orders, the clash of weapons. Slowly, Jared stood.
The Queen was white-faced; she turned on the Warden. "What is this? Where is she?"
His voice was icy. "I have no idea, madam. But I suggest ..."
He stopped. His gray eyes met Jared's through the agitated crowd.
They looked at each other and in the sudden growing hush the crowd noticed and fell back between them, as if people feared to stand in that corridor of anger.
The Warden said, "Master Jared. Do you know where my daughter is?"
Jared managed a small smile. "I regret I cannot say, sir. But I can say this. She has decided against the wedding." The crowd was utterly silent.
Her eyes glittering with wrath, the Queen said, "She's jilted my son?"
He bowed. "She has changed her mind. It was sudden, and she felt she could not face either of you. She has left the Palace. She begs your indulgence."
Claudia would hate that last, he thought, but he had to be so careful. He steeled himself for the reaction. The Queen gave a laugh of pure venom; she turned on the "warden." My dear John, what a blow for you! After all your plans and schemes! I have to say I never thought it a very good idea. She was so ... unsuitable. You chose your replacement so badly."
The "wardens eyes never left Jared's, and the Sapient felt that basilisk stare slowly petrify his courage." Where has she gone?
Jared swallowed. "Home."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
"In a carriage?"
"On horseback."
The Warden turned. "A patrol after her. At once!" Did he believe it? Jared wasn't sure.
"Of course I pity your domestic troubles," the Queen said cruelly, "but you realize that I will never suffer an insult like this again. There will be no wedding, Warden, even if she comes back crawling on her hands and knees."
Caspar muttered, "Scheming ungrateful bitch," but his mother silenced him with a look.
"Clear the chamber," she said sharply. "I want everyone out."
As if it was a signal, an uproar of voices burst out, excited questions, shocked whispers.
Through it all Jared stood still, and the Warden stood watching him, and there was a look in those eyes the Sapient could not beat now. He turned away.
"You stay." John Arlex's order was hoarse and unrecognizable.
"Warden." Lord Evian pushed up close to them. "I have just heard ... such news ... is it true?"
His affectations were gone; he was pale with intensity. "True. She's gone." The Warden spared him one grim glance. It's over.
"Then ... the Queen?"
"Remains the Queen."
"But... our plan ..."
The Warden silenced him with a flash of anger. "Enough, man! Don't you hear what I say?
Go back to your puffs and perfumes. It's all we have now."
As if he could not understand what had happened, Evian clawed restlessly at his tight ruffled suit, tugging a button loose. "We can't let it end like this."
"We have no choice."
"All our dreams. The end of Protocol." He reached his hand inside the coat. "I can t. I won't."
He moved in before Jared realized what was happening, the knife flashing out, slashing down at the Queen. As she turned, it caught her high on the shoulder; she screamed in shock. Instantly the cloth of gold was running with blood, small spatterings and trickles that welled up as she gasped and clawed at Caspar, stumbling into the arms of courtiers. "Guards!" the Warden cried.
He whipped out his sword. Jared turned.
Evian was staggering back, the pink suit smeared with blood. He must have seen he had failed; the Queen was hysterical but not dead, and there was no chance to strike again. At least not at her. Soldiers ran in, their sharp pikes forcing him back in a ring of steel. He stared at Jared without seeing him, at the Warden, at Caspar's pale terror.
"I do this for freedom," he said calmly. "In a world that offers none."
With a swift accuracy he turned the knife and with both hands thrust it into his heart. He crumpled over it, crashed down, juddered a moment and was still. As Jared pushed past the guards and bent over him, he saw death had been almost instant; blood was still slowly welling through the silk cloth.
He gazed down, horrified, at the plump face, the staring eyes.
"Stupid," the Warden said behind him. "And weak." He reached down and hauled Jared up, turning him roughly.
"Are you weak, Master Sapient? I have always thought so. We'll see now if I was tight."
He looked at the guard. "Take the Master to his room and lock him in. Bring me any devices that are there. Post two men outside. He is not to leave, and will receive no visitors."
"Sire." The man bowed.
The Queen had been hustled out and the crowd scattered; all at once the great Chamber seemed empty. The garlands of flowers and orange blossom drifted slightly in the breeze from the open windows. As Jared was led to the door he stepped on spilled petals and sticky sweetmeats; the detritus of a wedding that would never happen.
Just before they pushed him out, he looked back and saw the Warden standing with both hands on the high fireplace, leaning over the empty hearth. His hands were clenched fists on the white marble.
NOTHING HAPPENED but a white light. When Claudia opened her eyes, they stung; her sight was watery, and small dark spots floated there for a minute, dimming the walls of the cell.
It was certainly a cell. It stank. The smell was so strong, she retched and then tried nor to breathe again, the reek of damp and urine and rotting bodies and straw.
The straw was all around her; she was sitting in it, and a flea jumped out of it onto her hand. With a hiss of disgust she jumped up and shook it off, shivering and scratching.
So this was Incarceron.
It was just as she'd expected.
The cell was stone-walled and the stones were carved with ancient names and dates, filmed with milky lichens and a fur of algae. Above, the groined vault was lost in darkness.
There was one window, high in the wall, but it seemed to be covered. Nothing else. But the cell door was open.
Claudia took another breath, trying not to cough. The cell was silent, a heavy, oppressive silence that was cold and clammy. A listening silence. And in the corner of the cell, she saw an Eye. A small red Eye that watched her impassively.
She felt normal. No tingling or sickness. She looked at herself, her hands clutching the
Key. Was she really so minute? Or was any notion of size relative—was this normality and the Realm outside a place of giants?
She crossed to the door. It had not been locked for a long time. Chains hung from it, but they were corroded into a mass with rust, and the hinges were eaten away so that the door hung at an angle. She ducked under it, into the passageway.
It was stone-flagged and filthy, and k stretched into darkness.
She looked at the Key, operated the imager. "Finn?" she whispered. Nothing happened.
Only, far off down the corridor, something hummed. A low-pitched whine, like a machine being activated. She flicked the Key off hastily, her heart thudding. "Is that you?"
Nothing.
She took two steps, then stopped. The sound came again, just ahead, a soft, oddly questing sound. She saw a red Eye open, turn slowly through a half circle, then stop and swivel back toward her. She kept very still.
390
"I see you," a voice said softly. "I recognize you." Not Finns. Not anyone she knew.
"I never forget any of my children. But you haven't been here for a while. I'm not sure I understand that."
Claudia wiped her cheek with a grimy hand. "Who are you? I can't see you."
"Yes you can. You're standing on me, breathing me."
She stepped back, staring down, but there was only the stone floor, the darkness.
The red Eye watched her. She breathed a sickening breath. "You're the Prison."
"I am." It sounded fascinated. "And you are the Wardens daughter."
She couldn't speak. Jared had said it was an intelligence, but she hadn't realized it would be like this.
"Shall we help each other, Claudia Arlexa?" The voice was calm and had a slight echo.
"You are looking for Finn and his friends. Isn't that right?"
"Yes." Should she have said that?
"I will lead you to them."
"The Key will do that."
"Don't use the Key. It interferes with my systems."
Was she mistaken, or had that been hurried, almost annoyed? She began to walk on slowly, into the dark corridor. "I see. And what do you want in return?"
A sound. It could have been a sigh, or a soft laugh. "Not a question I have been asked before. I want you to tell me what is Outside. Sapphique promised faithfully that he would come back and tell me, but he never has. Your father does not speak of it. I begin to wonder, in my heart of hearts, if there even is an
Outside, or whether Sapphique passed only into death and you live in a place here I am unable to detect. I have a billion Eyes and senses, and yet I cannot see out. It is not only the inmates who dream of Escape, Claudia. But then, how can I escape from myself?"
She came to a corner. The passageway forked in two, both dark and dripping, and identical. She frowned and held the Key tightly. "I don't know. It's pretty much what I'm trying to do. All right. Take me to Finn. And as we go I'll tell you what's Outside."
Lights flickered on ahead. "This way." She paused. "You do really know where they are?
This isn't a trick?"
Silence. Then, "Oh Claudia. How angry your father will be with you. When he finds out."