He said, ‘My challenge still stands.’ The Pretender glanced at the Queen. In a low voice he said, ‘And my acceptance.’ Finn went and sat by the wall, simmering.
The Shadow Lord turned to Giles. ‘We have witnesses.
Boys who were at the Academy with you. Grooms, maids, the ladies of the Court:
‘Excellent. I want to see them all.’ The Pretender settled back comfortably. ‘Let them be brought in. Let them look at him and look at me. Let them tell you which is the Prince and which the Prisoner.’ The Shadow Lord looked hard at him. Then he raised a hand. ‘Bring in the witnesses,’ he snapped.
19
The Esoterica are the broken fragments of our knowledge. The Sapienti will spend generations restoring the gaps. Much of it will never be recovered.
‘I should punish you. You were the one who told Claudia she was not my daughter.’ It was not the Prison’s metallic sneer. Attia stared up at the red accusing Eye.
‘I did tell her. She needed to know.’
‘It was cruel.’ The Warden’s voice sounded grave, and weary. Quite suddenly the wall of the room rippled, and he was there.
Rho almost screamed. Attia stared, astonished.
A man stood before her in three-dimensional image, his edges frail and rippling. In places she could see right through him. His grey eyes were cold, and she had to make an effort not to flinch, or kneel, like Rho had hastily done.
She had only ever seen him as Blaize. Now he was the Warden. He wore a black silk coat and black knee-breeches; his boots were finest leather, his silvered hair caught back in a velvet ribbon. At first she thought that despite his austerity she had never seen anyone so fine, and yet as he stepped closer she caught the wear on his sleeve, the stained coat, the slightly untrimmed beard.
He nodded sourly. ‘Yes. The conditions of the Prison begin to affect even me.’
‘Do you expect me to feel sorry for you?’
‘The dog-slave grows a little bold, it seems. So where is Sapphique’s Glove?’ Attia almost smiled. ‘Ask my captors.’
‘We’re not your captors,’ Rhos stammered. ‘You cui go, anytime.’ The girl was gazing furtively up at the Warden with her grey and gold eyes. She seemed both fascinated and appalled.
‘The Glove!’ the Warden snapped.
Rho bowed, scrambled up and ran out.
At once Attia said, ‘They’ve got Keiro. I want him released.’
‘Why?’ The Warden’s smile was acid. He looked around the Nest with interest. ‘I doubt very much whether he would do the same for you.’
‘You don’t know him.’
‘On the contrary. I have studied his record, and yours.
Keiro is ambitious and ruthless. He will act for himself, without a qualm.’ He smiled. ‘I will use that against him.’ He adjusted an invisible control; the image wavered, and then became clearer. He was so close she could have touched him. He turned and gazed at her sideways. ‘Of course you could always bring the Glove yourself and leave him behind.’ For a moment she thought he had read her thoughts. Then she said, ‘If you want it, tell them to release him.’ Before he answered Rho was back, breathless, the doorway behind her crowded with inquisitive girls. She laid the Glove down carefully before the Warden’s image.
He crouched. He reached out for the Glove and his hand passed right through it. The dragonskin scales glittered. ‘So!
It still exists! What a marvel that is.’ For a moment he was fascinated. Behind him Attia glimpsed a vast, shadowy place, dimly red. And there was a sound, a pulsing beat that she recognized from her dream.
She said, ’If you went Outside, you could tell them about Finn. You could be a witness for him. Don’t you see, you could tell them that you took his memory, that you put him here.’ He stood slowly, and dusted what looked like rust from his gloves.
‘Prisoner, you assume too much.’ He looked at her, a steel-cold gaze. ‘I care nothing for Finn, or the Queen, or any of the Havaarna.’
‘You care about Claudia. She could be in danger too His grey eyes flickered. For a moment she thought she had stung him, but he was hard to read. He said, ‘Claudia is my concern. And I fully intend to be the next ruler of the Realm myself. Now bring me the Glove.’
‘Not without Keiro.’ John Arlex did not move. ‘Don’t bargain with me, Attia.’
‘I won’t let him be killed.’ Her breath came short and it almost hurt to speak. She prepared herself for some great anger.
But to her surprise he glanced aside as if consulting something and then shrugged. ‘Very well. Release the thief.
But hurry. The Prison grows impatient for its freedom.
And—’ There was a crack, a spitting of sparks.
Where he had been, only an echo blinded her eyes, a faint smell of burning hung.
Attia was startled, but she moved quickly, stooping and picking up the Glove, feeling again its heaviness, the warm, slightly oily texture of its skin. She turned to Rho.
‘Send someone to get Keiro. And show me the way down.’ It happened so quickly Claudia almost thought she imagined it. One minute she was huddled miserably in the chair outside the guarded door gazing down the gilded corridor, and in the next moment the corridor was a ruin.
She blinked.
The blue vase was cracked. Its marble pedestal was painted wood. The walls were a mess of wires and faded paint. Great damp patches soaked the ceiling; in one corner the plaster had fallen and drips cascaded in.
She stood up, astonished.
Then with a ripple so subtle she felt it only in her nerves the splendour came back.
Claudia turned her head and stared at the two soldiers guarding the door. If they had noticed anything strange they weren’t showing it, their faces carefully blank.
‘Did you see that!’
‘I’m sorry, madam.’ The left-hand one’s eyes kept straight ahead. ‘See what?’ She swivelled to the other. ‘You?’ He seemed pale. His hand was sweaty on the halberd. ‘I thought.. . but no. Nothing’ She turned her back on them and walked up the corridor.
Her shoes clattered on the marble floor; she touched the vase and it was perfect. The walls were gilt panelling, beautifully ornamented with cupid masks and wooden swags. Of course she had known that much of the Era here was illusion, but she felt that for a moment she had been granted a vision, a glimmer of the world as it really was. It was hard to breathe.
As if, for that instant, even the air had been sucked away.
The power had flickered.
With a crack that made her jump the double doors opened behind her and the Privy Councillors surged out, a grave, chattering straggle. Claudia grabbed the nearest.
‘Lord Arto. What’s happened?’ He disengaged her hand gently. ’It’s all over, my dear. We are retiring to consider our verdict; it must be presented tomorrow I must say I myself have no doubts as to ...‘ Then, as if remembering her fate was involved, he smiled and fluttered a bow and was gone.
Claudia saw the Queen. Sia chatted with her ladies, and a foppish youth in a gold coat who was rumoured to be her latest lover. He looked hardly older than Caspar. The dog had been dumped in his arms; Sia clapped her hands and everyone turned.
‘Friends! We have such a tiresome wait for the verdict, and I hate waiting! So tonight there will be a masked ball in the Shell Grotto, and everyone is to attend. Everyone, mind!’ Her colourless eyes met Claudia’s and she smiled her sweetest smile. ‘Or I will be very, very displeased.’ The men bowed, the women dropped curtsies. As the entourage swept past Claudia breathed out in dismay, seeing the Pretender follow, surrounded by a group of the most fashionable young men. He was already gaining supporters, it seemed.