Ianthe thought back to the illicit excursion her mind had taken through the palace the night before. The palace had extended as far underground as it had reached skywards. Had all those people she’d sensed down there been Unmer?
‘Do you want to walk in the woods with me?’
Ianthe snapped out of her reverie. ‘What?’
‘Sister Ulla wont be back for ages.’
‘What about the test?’
‘She’s not expecting you to pass anyway.’ She held out her hand. ‘Come on, it’s a lovely day. I’ll show you the glade.’
Ianthe accepted Aria’s hand and climbed out through the open window.
Aria picked up her mushroom basket and closed the courtyard gate behind them. Gold-green light filtered down through the forest canopy, dappling the mossy ground and picking out bursts of white and pink wild-flowers. Yellow butterflies fluttered to and fro. The air smelled of warm summer pollen. Numerous trails wound through the ancient oaks, and Aria led Ianthe along one of these down a steep slope towards a spur of granite. As they drew nearer, Ianthe heard the sound of a rushing stream. Steps cut into the living rock took them down one side of the spur to a shady pool surrounded by walls of smooth grey stone. The sunshine fell on a flat expanse of granite beside the water’s edge, so smooth and round it might have been carved by the gods as a seat for bathers. In the shadows at the rear of the glade, a small waterfall chuckled into the dark waters.
Ianthe crouched at the edge of the pool. It was so clear she could see light rippling across pebbles two fathoms down. She hesitated, then dipped her hand into the cool water.
Aria flopped down onto the rocks behind her. ‘Some of the girls come here to swim,’ she said. ‘Do you swim?’
Ianthe shook her head.
‘Me neither.’ Aria rummaged in her basket, pulled out a handful of red berries and began to eat them.
‘Weren’t you supposed to be collecting mushrooms?’
‘These taste better,’ Aria said. ‘Do you want some?’
Ianthe realized she was ravenous. The only food she’d eaten since she’d arrived at the palace had been the chicken leg Aria had given to her the night before. She scurried over, and soon the two girls were sitting side by side, their chins running with red berry juice as they devoured Aria’s hoard.
‘Look, Regina,’ said a voice from behind. ‘A pig and a peasant.’
Ianthe turned to see two girls standing on the rock steps above them. The small blonde, Constance, stood with her chin raised and her blue eyes lit with arrogance, while her clumpy, brown-haired companion shifted coyly on the rock steps a few paces behind. Both girls carried baskets similar to Aria’s.
Constance strolled down the remaining steps, stopped before Ianthe and peered at her as one might peer at an insect. ‘I suppose Unmer eyeglasses are fashionable in Evensraum,’ she said to Regina. ‘These peasants have always had quaint ideas.’
Regina giggled.
Constance reached for Ianthe. ‘Let me see them,’ she said.
Ianthe turned away.
Constance gave a snort of disapproval, then grabbed for Ianthe’s spectacles. Ianthe pulled away and tried to shove the other girl back. Constance grabbed a handful of Ianthe’s hair. Ianthe lashed out wildly with the back of her fist.
Constance recoiled, and stood there for a moment – an expression of shock forming on her pretty face. She touched a thin scar across the bridge of her nose, and her fingers came away bloody. ‘You broke my nose,’ she said. ‘You broke my nose!’
Ianthe fumbled to adjust her lenses. She didn’t see the other girl charge at her until it was too late. With an angry shriek, Constance pushed Ianthe into the pool.
Freezing water engulfed Ianthe. The shock of it took her breath away. She thrashed about, struggling to right herself, then broke the surface, heaving for air. And all at once she felt herself begin to slip under again. She opened her mouth to call for help, but swallowed water and gagged.
Constance smiled at her from the bank.
Ianthe slipped under the surface of the pool again. Her nose filled with water. She kicked and flailed her arms madly, trying desperately to reach air. Her heavy Haurstaf robes seemed to drag her down. For an instant her face broke free and she sucked in a breath before the waters closed around her once more. She felt something solid smack against her head and grabbed it. Suddenly she felt herself being pulled along.
Aria was using a branch to drag Ianthe through the water. Ianthe held on fiercely. She reached the edge of the pool and clung on to the rock, breathless and shaking.
Constance laughed.
Ianthe tried to pull herself out of the water.
Constance crouched over her. ‘You can’t get out here,’ she said. ‘This is our area. Go around the other side of the pool.’
‘Leave me alone,’ Ianthe said. She struggled to climb up, but the blonde girl held her firmly down.
‘You need to learn your place,’ Constance snarled, forcing Ianthe back down into the cold water. The scar across her broken nose looked livid and angry. ‘Peasants don’t belong in the Guild. You’re not fit to clean the drains.’ She wheeled around and flashed her teeth at Aria. ‘Give me that stick.’
Aria hesitated.
Constance struggled with Ianthe as she tried to stop her from climbing out. But Ianthe, in her desperation, managed to force her way up past the smaller girl. Constance broke away, snatched the branch from Aria, then swung it round hard.
It struck Ianthe a stinging blow across the cheek. Dripping wet, she turned and fled towards the rocky steps, where Constance’s companion, Regina, waited.
‘Stop her,’ Constance yelled.
Regina moved to block Ianthe’s way, and Ianthe tried to push past.
‘Grab her.’
Regina seized the hood of Ianthe’s robe.
Ianthe lost her footing on the wet rock. Suddenly the glade whirled around her. She fell backwards and struck her head on something hard. A moment of darkness and confusion passed, and then she heard someone breathing heavily close to her ear, grunting, gasping.
‘Leave her alone.’
‘In the water.’
Fists grabbed Ianthe’s robes. Someone pinned her arms down. Regina loomed over her, her hair dishevelled, her face flushed. Constance wore a savage grin on her face. They began dragging her back towards the pool. Terror gripped Ianthe’s heart, and she kicked and punched and screamed, ‘No!’
Something strange happened. Ianthe sensed Constance’s perceptions, as she always had, and yet in that instant of fear and struggle she caught a rare glimpse of the mind behind them. It was as if the world had flipped abruptly. Instead of simply peering out through the other girl’s eyes, she found herself engulfed by the whirlwind of Constance’s emotions. Hatred, desire, envy. Ianthe’s own consciousness lashed out instinctively…
Her cry seemed to hang there in the silence of the glade. And then Ianthe became aware of the thumping of her own heart, the frantic sound of her own breathing. Shakily, she sat up.
Constance was lying a few feet away, unmoving, a trickle of blood coming from the corner of her left eye. Regina lay curled up on the ground beside her, with her face clamped behind her hands. She was wailing softly like a young child. Aria sat on the ground behind them, gazing at the two stricken girls with wide, fearful eyes.
‘What did you do?’ she said.
Ianthe got to her feet and ran.
‘You do not summon me, Mr Maskelyne.’
Maskelyne looked up to see Briana Marks standing at the open doorway of his suite. ‘Did I summon you?’ he said, feigning confusion. ‘Honestly, I can’t now remember why.’
She shook her head, but failed to entirely hide her smile. ‘Are you comfortable here?’
The suite occupied two floors of one of the palace towers and boasted fine views across the mountains and valley from its garden terrace. Elegant dragon-bone furniture rested on moss-deep carpets. Crystal chandeliers hung from silk-draped ceilings. Maskelyne had counted seven couches, twelve armchairs and no fewer than twenty-two mirrors bouncing light from window to wall. His bed was big enough to accommodate ten people. ‘Comfortable enough,’ he said, ‘although the bed feels cold at night.’