The Assassin Princess (Lamb & Castle Book 2) (16 page)

Every night since leaving Iletia, Bessie had dreamt of falling through the clouds, towards the vast green spread of the earth below, and each time she woke with a jolt as if her soul had just plummeted five thousand feet back into her sleeping body. Finding herself in the overwarm softness of many cushions and blankets with another sleeping body curled up against her side, it took a minute for her to remember where she was. Beside her, Amelia slept soundly, while down in the kitchen below, the redheaded servant was singing happily to herself again, splashing and sloshing water about as she scrubbed pots and pans. Bessie cursed. How could she have allowed herself to fall asleep? How many hours had she wasted? She lay in the hidden nook above the kitchen, her muscles tense and her senses alert. She should awaken Amelia and they could be on their way, but she wanted a few minutes to herself to think. Even once she'd returned to Master Greyfell, he'd expect her to have some plan of her own for what to do next, even if he dismissed it as rash or ignoble. Having been convinced to her satisfaction that Prince Archalthus really was a dragon masquerading as a man, she couldn't go through with any plan to marry him. Could she? It
would
only be a political marriage, and once she had that crown firmly on her head, then there would be nothing to stop her from hiring an Antwin Academy alumnus and ridding herself of the unwanted Black King so that she could rule alone. Her family had sent her to the Academy in order to forge just such useful connections, as well as learn the skills she'd need. Of course, before that, there was the problem of how to persuade Amelia to hand over the crown to
her
instead of the prince. And then what to do about Rose… The thought of the spoilt merchant's daughter and her tale of woe finally jogged Bessie's memory: the name Scarlet had rung a bell right from the start and
now
Bessie remembered why. Of course, the redheaded servant from Rose's story… Well, at least Bessie had been woken by Scarlet's empty-headed singing, and not by griffins or guardsmen. But why had Scarlet acted as if she didn’t already know about Rose, locked away upstairs and awaiting marriage to the dragon prince? Bessie was just about to call down when she heard footsteps ringing on the flagstones in the corridor outside.

“Hello, Ginger,” said a voice, and Bessie peeked over the edge to see Commander Breaker standing there.

“Oh, hello Mister Breaker,” said Scarlet, weakly. Her face was a picture of guilt, even seen from above. “Where did you spring from? Would you like a bite to eat?” She turned away to hide her guilty expression, busying herself with her frying pan as the Commander sat down to the table.

Bessie lay still and silent as she knew how, and could only pray that Amelia neither woke nor snored. Barely daring to breathe, Bessie listened as Scarlet and Commander Breaker talked over the news and gossip of the palace. He had a lot to talk about: the dreadful mood Master had been in all morning – a brewing storm of something worse, he was sure; the childish tantrum Her Ladyship had thrown because she wanted to see the intruders in the dungeon but hadn't been allowed; something strange that had appeared in the City overnight – some demon of smoke and fire that had eluded capture by his men… for now. And Scarlet kept up her side of the conversation with '
no, really?
' and '
how terrible
', and '
isn't Her Ladyship excited for the wedding, though?
'

Eventually, Scarlet sent the Commander on his way, apparently suspecting nothing, but only when Bessie could be absolutely certain that he'd gone did she risk looking over the edge again. “What was all that about?” she hissed.

Scarlet jumped, clutching dramatically at her heart. “I'm sorry, poppet. That was a bit of a close call, wasn't it?”

“A '
close call'
? Whose side
are
you on?” Bessie demanded.

Scarlet at least had the decency to look uncomfortable. “I'm not on anybody's side. I told you before: I won't help you escape, but I won't call Master on you either. It's all I can do.”

“That's not what I meant.” Bessie didn't think Scarlet had summoned Breaker to recapture the prisoners, because why bring him here and then fail to turn them over? She didn't believe the Commander even knew they were missing from their cell. “Why don't you want to help us escape?”

“My brother says he has a clever idea,” said Scarlet. “I don't want to see it ruined by some thoughtless thing I've done.”

Beside Bessie in the comfy nook, Amelia stretched, yawned, and muttered, “What's going on?”

“Your new friend Scarlet is one of them. She's friends with Breaker and all! The one who wanted to torture us!”

“Well I don't know that I'd call him a
friend
,” Scarlet protested, “But I'm certain he's not as bad as you make him out to be! What harm does it do to be friendly, anyway?”

Bessie
knew
she'd overheard the Commander say something about torture when they'd been up in front of the dragon prince and hiding the whereabouts of the crown, but if Scarlet was even more naïve than Amelia, then what was the point in waiting around to argue about it? “So you're not denying you're a golem?” she said instead.

“I am
not
a golem!” Scarlet snapped, stamping her foot. “I'm a –” then she clapped a hand over her mouth.

“A what?”

“Never you mind. But I got a heart, just like you have, not a cold lump of stone, or a bitty slip of paper, or, or… whatever…”

“The prince's guards were here?” Amelia looked worried. “Where's Stupid?”

“Your fire sprite?” said Scarlet. “Lucky for all of us he's been baking biscuits in my oven for the past half hour. I hear he's making himself very unpopular with Mister Breaker's gentlemen lately.” Scarlet was trying her best to look stern, but the look just didn't fit her face. “And I think it's about time you two girls run along, now. If you want to escape, best get a move on, before you
do
get me into trouble, for all your best intentions.”

~

After poring over the sheaf of yellow and mildew-smelling schematics Scarlet had acquired for her, Bessie had decided that the quickest way to the surface was a short climb up the Keystone shaft, no more than ten feet. Amelia wasn't keen to risk the Keystone shaft again – what if they had more trouble with the untamed magic, when she'd only just got back to her usual height? But the other options would all take them either through inhabited portions of Archalthus' palace, or up ladders and along gangways over the grumbling, clanking guts of the Flying City. As Bessie was on her way out of Scarlet's kitchen, Amelia lingered, still leafing through the maps, turning them this way and that in the hopes that the thin ink scratches would somehow resolve into a clear and direct way out.

“I can't wait here all day while you dither,” said Bessie. “You can try waltzing through the prince's parlour if you like, but I prefer to take my chances with the Keystone. It was nice to meet you, Miss Lamb.” And with that and a brief smart curtsey, she was on her way.

“Wait!” Amelia ran after her. “Just one minute!” she pleaded. Bessie hesitated, while Amelia turned to her fire sprite. She didn't even want to think what might become of him in the turbulent wild magic of the Keystone shaft. She wouldn't take the risk. “Stupid, get back to Meg and try to let her know I'm safe. I'll be back as soon as I can. And if you meet any more of those golems along the way, you just carry on with whatever it was you were doing before.” At least it might keep some of those eerie gentlemen out of her way as she tried to escape.

Glowing a searing shade of turquoise, Stupid shot off down the corridor, before Amelia could change her mind about giving him permission to make a nuisance of himself.

Amelia then proceeded with considerably less enthusiasm than her fire sprite, as she followed Bessie past the lead-lined hatch and into the service tunnel. Just ten feet up, that was all.

In the darkness, little feet pattered rapidly over the stone, and Amelia shuddered: rats. Or worse, as if rats weren't bad enough. One of them brushed past Bessie, and she squeaked. She
squeaked?
Amelia didn't think she'd ever heard the young assassin-in-training make such an undignified noise before…

The rat paused and turned its beady eye on Bessie. “Funny not the usual man oh well,” it said in Bessie's voice, too fast.

Bessie squeaked again, this time with a shrill edge of unmistakeable panic.

The rat paused between Bessie and Amelia, eyeing them both curiously, first one then the other. “Two men how strange must be a Thursday,” said the rat with Bessie's voice, and then – with a bunching motion that looked suspiciously like a shrug – went on its way.

With a squeak, Bessie made a grab for the rat, but missed.

“Stupid men can't catch
me
!” the startled creature taunted Bessie in her own voice, as Bessie lunged for it again, and it danced away into darkness. “I know this place like the back of my paw.”

Amelia glanced back at the hatch behind them. She should get Bessie out of the Keystone's magical field: that had reversed the accidental spell before. Bessie had other ideas, though, scrabbling off down the tunnel after the rat.

“Bessie! Come back!” Amelia shouted in vain, as her companion vanished into darkness in a commotion of squeaking and laughter, leaving Amelia sitting alone in the tunnel.

Then a moment later, Bessie
did
come back, with the rat's scruff pinched meanly between her finger and thumb. The little creature fought valiantly, but its tiny claws only scratched her gloves.

“Where's your whiskers?” the rat puzzled, panting heavily as it struggled in vain. “What kind of rodent are you?”

Bessie squeaked indignantly.

“Then where'd you learn to speak Rat so well that's what I want to know?” the rat demanded of her.

Bessie squeaked something (presumably in fluent and accentless Rat) that made the rat laugh.

“You think you're so clever!” it giggled breathlessly. “You're going up skyside I know but the stone men are up there I seen 'em and they'll put you back in your cage!”

“That's quite enough of
that
,” said Amelia, hauling the furiously squeaking Bessie off down the tunnel, back towards the hatch. They tumbled out together into fresher air and brighter light, and the rat leapt up, disappearing down the corridor, peals of ratty laughter echoing behind it.

Amelia picked herself up and dusted herself off. “Didn't I say the Keystone was too dangerous?”

“All right, don't get your knickers in a twist,” said Bessie crossly, then looked shocked at the sound of her own voice.

Amelia, determined this time not to let Bessie take charge and lead them into disaster, set off into the dragon prince's palace.

~

The rooms they passed through were still those dusty half-abandoned places, set to sleep under the white drapes of dustsheets, while the palace held its breath, waiting for the King and Queen of the Dragon Lands to be married. Despite Amelia's hurry to be out of Ilgrevnia and back with her friends, her gaze lingered on rich tapestries and exotic rugs, the tantalising flash of gilt and jewels from beneath the dustsheets.
This could be your home
, an insidious voice whispered to Amelia,
if only you take the crown and go to Archalthus… Dragon he may be, but dragons hoard gold, don't they? What you see here may just be scratching the surface of his wealth. You'd never want for anything…
She scowled at that line of thought. Oh yes, take the crown to Archalthus, and he'd marry that girl Rose, and what would become of Amelia then? She hurried onward, through an enormous ballroom with a floor of some polished stone that took up every scrap of light and glittered like stars in the night sky. Here, the floor had been swept and the cobwebs removed. The covered shapes of chairs and tables had been pushed up against the edges of the room, and a chandelier hung high above their heads like an enormous iron spider watching for prey. Amelia couldn't help but pause a moment to admire the tapestries that hung from arched ceiling to glittering floor, and as she stared and wondered what other treasures the palace held, she noticed the walled off archway at the rear of the stage; the familiar carved face above it, with its crown and curls. The archway looked exactly like the one at the jade temple, where the stone had melted away before Amelia's presence, admitting the rightful candidate to the treasure trove where she'd found the Dragon Queen's crown. Pickaxes lay close by; the boards of the stage were grey with stone dust. Amelia hesitated, drew a breath to ask Bessie what she made of this, and then thought better of it. Amelia had the crown: most probably she could pass through the archway just the same as the one at the jade temple, but did she really want Bessie there when she did? Perhaps she should suggest that they went their separate ways at last, and then double back to the ballroom once she was alone… But just at that moment, Bessie suddenly dived for cover, scrambling underneath the nearest table. Amelia quickly followed suit, just in time to hear something charge into the ballroom, the thudding paws and squeal of claws on polished stone, the hiss and whine and sharp smoky smell of fireworks. Amelia lifted the dust sheet just enough to see the black griffin skidding across the ballroom floor, scrambling up onto the stage in pursuit of Stupid the fire sprite, who was fizzing and spinning as he bounced off the wall, showering the stage with rainbow-coloured sparks that danced down onto the polished dance floor.