When he had gone and they were alone neither of them spoke. Finn piled some food on his plate and then poked at it listlessly. Claudia couldn’t face anything.
‘It’s strange. For months I’ve wanted to be here, at home, with Ralph fussing.’ She looked round at the familiar dark-panelled room. ‘But it’s not the same
‘Maybe that’s because of the army outside.’ She glared at him. Then she said, ‘It got to you. What he said.’
‘About hiding behind a girl?’ He snorted. ‘I’ve heard worse. In the Prison Jormanric hurled insults that would freeze that idiot’s blood.’ She picked at a grape. ‘He did get to you.’ Finn threw down his spoon with a clatter and jumped up.
He strode angrily around the room.
‘All right, Claudia, yes, he did. I should have killed him when I had the chance. No Pretender, no problem. And he’s right in one thing. If we haven’t cracked the Portal by seven then I will walk out, alone, because there’s no way I’m having any of your people die for me. A women died once before because I could only think about my own Escape. I saw her fall screaming down a black abyss and it was my fault. It won’t happen again.’ Claudia pushed a pip round her plate. ’Finn, that’s exactly what he wants you to do. Be noble, give yourself up. Be killed.’ She turned. ‘Think! The Queen doesn’t know about the Portal here — if she did this place would be rubble by now. And now that you remember who you are . . . that you’re really Giles, you can’t just sacrifice yourself. You’re the King.’ He stopped and looked at her. ‘I don’t like the way you said that.’
‘Said what?’
‘Remembered. Remembered. You don’t believe me, Claudia.’
‘Of course I do …’
‘You think I’m lying. Maybe to myself.’
‘Finn . . .‘ She stood but he waved her away.
‘And the fit. . . it didn’t happen, but it was coming. And it shouldn’t be. Not any more.’
‘They’ll take time to go. Jared told you that.’ Exasperated, she stared at him. ‘Stop thinking about yourself for a minute, Finn! Jared is missing — god knows where he is. Keiro …’
‘Don’t talk to me about Keiro!’ He had turned and his face was so white it scared her. She was silent, knowing she had touched a raw nerve, letting her anger simmer.
Finn stared at her. Then, quieter, he said, ‘I never stop thinking about Keiro. I never stop wishing I’d never come here.’ She laughed, acid. ‘You prefer the Prison?’
‘I betrayed him. And Attia. If I could go back...’ She turned, snatched up her glass and drank, her fingers trembling on the delicate stem. Behind her the fire crackled over its logs and plasticoals.
‘Be careful what you wish for, Finn. You might get it.’ He leant on the fireplace, looking down. Beside him the carved figures watched; the black swan’s eye glittered like a diamond.
In the heated room nothing moved but the flames. They made the heavy furniture shimmer, the facets of the crystals glint like watchful stars.
Outside, voices murmured in the corridor. The rumble of cannonballs being stacked came from the roof. If Claudia listened very hard she could hear the revelry from the Queen’s camp.
Suddenly needing fresh air, she went to the window, and opened the casement.
It was dark, the moon hung low, close to the horizon.
Beyond the lawns the hills were crowned with trees, and she wondered how many artillery pieces the Queen had brought up behind them. Sick with sudden fear she said, ‘You miss Keiro and I miss my father.’ Sensing his head turn she nodded. ‘No, I didn’t think I would, but I do. . . Maybe there’s more of him in me than I thought.’ He said nothing.
Claudia pulled the window shut and went to the door. ‘Try and eat something. Ralph will be disappointed otherwise.
I’m going back up.’ He didn’t move. They had left the study a mess of papers and diagrams and still nothing made sense. It was hopeless, because neither of them had any idea what they were looking for. But he couldn’t tell her that.
At the door she paused. ’Listen, Finn. If we don’t succeed and you walk out like some hero the Queen will destroy this house anyway She won’t be content now without a show of force. There’s a secret way out — a tunnel under the stables. It’s a trapdoor, under the fourth stall. The stable boy, Job, found it one day and showed Jared and myself It’s old, pre-Era, and it comes up beyond the moat. If they break in, remember it, because I want to be sure you’ll use it. You’re the King. You’re the one who understands Incarceron.
You’re too valuable to lose. The rest of us are not.’ For a while he couldn’t answer her, and when he turned he saw she’d gone.
The door clicked slowly shut.
He stared at its wooden boards.
28
How will we know when the great Destruction is near? Because there will be weeping and anguish and strange cries in the night.
The Swan will sing and the Moth will savage the Tiger. Chains will spring open. The lights will go out, one by one like dreams at daybreak.
Amongst this chaos, one thing is sure.
The Prison will close its eyes against the sufferings of its children.
The stars.
Jared slept beneath them, uneasy in the rustling leaves.
From the battlements Finn gazed up at them, seeing the impossible distances between galaxies and nebulae, and thinking they were not as wide as the distances between people.
In the study Claudia sensed them, in the sparks and crackles on the screen.
In the Prison, Attia dreamt of them. She sat curled on the hard chair, Rix repacking his hidden pockets obsessively with coins and glass discs and hidden handkerchiefs.
A single spark flickered deep in the coin Keiro spun and taught, spun and caught.
And all over Incarceron, through its tunnels and corridors, its cells and seas, the Eyes began to close. One by one they rippled off down galleries where people came out of their huts to stare; in cities where priests of obscure cults cried out to Sapphique; in remote halls where nomads had wandered for centuries; above a crazed Prisoner digging his life-long tunnel with a rusty spade. The Eyes went out in ceilings, in the cobwebbed corner of a cell, in the den of a Winglord, in the thatched eaves of a cottage. Incarceron withdrew its gaze, and for the first time since its waking the Prison ignored its Inmates, drew in on itself, closed down empty sections, gathered its great strength.
In her sleep Attia turned, and woke. Something had changed, had disturbed her, but she didn’t know what it was. The hall was dark, the fire almost out. Keiro was a huddle in the chair, one leg dangling over its wooden armrest, sleeping his light sleep. Rix was brooding. His eyes were fixed on her.
Alarmed, she felt for the Glove and touched its reassuring crackle.
‘It was a pity you weren’t the one to say the riddle, Attia.’ Rix’s voice was a whisper.’! would have preferred to work with you.’ He didn’t ask if she had the Glove safe, but she knew why.
The Prison would hear.
She rubbed her cricked neck and answered, equally quietly.
‘What are you up to, Rix?’
‘Up to?’ He grinned. ‘I’m up to the greatest illusion anyone has ever performed. What a sensation it will be, Attia! People will talk about it for generations.’
‘If there are people.’ Keiro had opened his eyes. He was listening, and not to Rix. ‘Hear that?’ The heartbeat had changed.
It was faster, the double-thump louder. As Attia listened the crystals in the chandelier above her tinkled with it; she felt the faintest reverberation in the chair she sat on.
Then, so loud it made her jump, a bell rang.
High and clear it pierced the darkness; she jammed her hands to her ears in a grimace of shock. Once, twice, three times it rang. Four. Five. Six.