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‘You would be supported by a regency council … that would be myself, and Magister Kargrin, and some other folk who think as we do,’ said Gullaine hastily. ‘You won’t have to marry Aronzo, or anyone for that matter. You could take on Kilp with the power of the throne behind you, set matters to rights –’

‘How do I know what’s right?’ asked Clariel. ‘Is this some sort of test? I already told Kargrin I just want to get out of here and go back to the Great Forest!’

‘It is not a test,’ said Gullaine. ‘I think you would be a worthy regent. You took on that Free Magic creature, you have courage, and we would be behind you!’

‘I have no desire to be your puppet any more than Kilp’s,’ said Clariel. ‘I want to make my own life, not be stuck on a throne inside a great stone building, trapped behind walls forever.’

‘You would not be a puppet,’ said Gullaine. ‘Nor would we be puppeteers! That is something that Kilp could never promise you, even if that Free Magic creature isn’t involved, with some darker purpose.’

‘No,’ said Clariel firmly, shaking her head.

‘Think on it,’ said Gullaine. ‘You may be glad of the choice, in time to come.’

‘In a very short time I will be in Estwael, and the Great Forest,’ said Clariel. ‘My answer is final. No.’

‘I hope matters work out as you wish,’ said Gullaine lightly, but for the first time Clariel caught an air of menace in her words. ‘As we all wish. Perhaps Princess Tathiel will turn up tomorrow, as the King so fervently dreams. Come, I will take you to your parents.’

‘Mother’s not going to be happy,’ said Clariel, as they began to descend again. ‘I’m sure she thought she’d have hours looking at the Dropstone work, while I chatted away to the King.’

‘On the contrary, I imagine she will be very happy, provided you let her look after his gift,’ said Gullaine. ‘Unless you intend to keep the King’s present to yourself, or even sell it?’

‘What? The salt cellar … but he just said that when he was angry and wanted me gone!’

‘He said it, and the King’s word must be obeyed.’

‘But it must be worth a fortune!’

‘A small fortune,’ agreed Gullaine. ‘I would not recommend travelling with it. Too much temptation for thieves.’

Clariel blinked, but did not answer. This was yet another complication, though possibly one she could use to her advantage. She could offer Jaciel the salt cellar in return for being left alone … or perhaps she could threaten to take the salt cellar away if her parents didn’t let her go …

‘Through here,’ said Gullaine, opening a door that led to a long, narrow corridor of bare stone. The corridor had no windows and was dark, save for a few scant pools of light from Charter marks set in the walls. There was another door at the far end, some fifty paces away.

Clariel had only just started along the dark corridor when she realised Gullaine had fallen in behind her, when before she had led the way. She felt a stab of fear, suddenly wondering if Gullaine thought she was lying about wanting to be Queen. Maybe the Captain thought Clariel had thrown in her lot with Kilp and Aronzo, that she was going to try to claim the throne, and was going to get rid of her once and for all. She started to walk faster, her shoulder blades itching, as if any moment a dagger would fall. Perhaps she should turn, and … and what? She was unarmed –

‘This is a shortcut. We’re inside the Western Wall,’ said Gullaine from close behind, making Clariel jump. ‘I haven’t used it for a long time, I’m sorry it’s so dark. There’s always somewhere in the Palace that needs the light spells cast anew, and we no longer have enough Charter Mages to keep up. If you just turn that knob, Lady Clariel, a door will open.’

Clariel’s hand shook slightly as she turned the bronze knob. A wooden panel slid aside revealing a large, bright room where large windows let in the afternoon sun for full effect. The walls were panelled in a light and lustrous timber, there was a thick carpet of red and gold on the floor, and a divan or daybed sat in the middle of that carpet. A young man with badly cut black hair was lying on the divan, dressed in a robe of blue and silver that was too large for him, reading a book that was also too large to be easily held so he had propped it up on his stomach. A young woman in the purple and green of the Vintners was sitting next to his feet on the far end of the divan, also reading. A bowl of grapes lay on the floor between them, with more empty stems than ones with fruit.

‘Bel! Denima!’ exclaimed Clariel. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I live here,’ said Bel. ‘In the Palace. Didn’t you know?’

‘I’m visiting Bel,’ said Denima, with a blush. ‘I wanted to see he wasn’t … I wanted to make sure he was not too badly hurt.’

‘But Bel … you said you couldn’t see the King!’ protested Clariel, stepping down into the room. The hidden door to the passage was at least two feet higher than the floor here, indicating the confluence of two different epochs of Palace construction.

‘I can’t see him,’ said Bel. ‘I live here, the Abhorsen’s apartments, in the west wing. The old chap never visits and I’m not allowed in the rest of the Palace. Gully said she’d bring you over to say hello.’

‘She didn’t tell me,’ said Clariel, with a glance at Gullaine, who gave her an enigmatic half smile. Out here in the sunshine, she felt a bit ashamed of her sudden flash of fear in the darkened corridor. Gullaine would protect the King’s interests, or perhaps the Kingdom’s, but surely she wouldn’t do anything like just kill a potential traitor …

I’m just jumpy, Clariel told herself. Understandably nervous, given all the things that are going on … I need to stay calm.

‘Bel said he wanted to talk to you,’ said Gullaine.

‘I see,’ said Clariel. She still felt tense, and supposed that she would continue that way until she managed to get away. It was like being caught in the rapids, with currents tugging every which way, and a great waterfall ahead. But which way to swim to get clear, and avoid being dashed on the rocks?

‘Yes, uh, I do …’ said Bel. He glanced at Denima, and added, ‘It’s family business, Denima. Abhorsen stuff … I don’t mean to be –’

‘I understand,’ said Denima flatly. She got up and bowed to Clariel, then to Bel.

‘I’ll escort you to the Abhorsen’s Gate,’ said Gullaine. ‘Your guards await you there, I believe?’

Denima nodded. Gullaine turned to Clariel and said, ‘I will return to take you to your parents in a short time, Lady Clariel.’

‘Thanks for the grapes, Denima,’ said Bel, lifting himself up on one elbow with a wince. ‘Uh, this really is an Abhorsen matter, it’s not … not personal.’

‘Absolutely not personal,’ added Clariel, with a meaningful glance at Denima. She liked the other young woman, and wanted to make it clear she had no designs upon Belatiel, since she didn’t and it was clear he and Denima had some understanding. Or Denima hoped they were going to have an understanding.

‘Oh,’ said Denima. She lost some of the frozen look in her face. ‘I’m so used to those bitches like Yaneem at the Academy. I know you’re not like that, Clariel.’

‘Definitely not,’ said Clariel, with some feeling.

‘Hey, neither am I,’ said Bel, with rather less authenticity.

‘I know,’ said Denima. She hesitated, then bent down quickly and kissed Bel on the cheek, before rushing from the room.

‘We’re … um … good friends,’ said Bel. He tried to sit up even more but grimaced, pain evident on his face, and settled back. ‘What I really wanted to talk about was simply to say thank you. For saving my life. Twice. If you hadn’t dragged me down, the quarrel wou

ld have got me in the head, and Kargrin told me … he told me that you held the Free Magic creature and stopped it from finishing me off.’

‘I should have been quicker to spot the crossbow,’ said Clariel. She hesitated for a second, then added, ‘I think it was Aronzo.’

Bel was silent for a moment, a frown passing across his face.

‘That makes sense. Unfortunately. I know Gullaine doesn’t believe it, but Kargrin is certain the creature was working with Kilp, even if for its own ends, whatever they may be. Aronzo hates me and … he kills for fun.’

‘Kills for fun?’ asked Clariel. ‘What, animals?’

‘People,’ said Bel. ‘I know he’s killed several day labourers, supposedly in self-defence. But the way he talked about it … it was clear he enjoyed the killing.’

‘Great,’ muttered Clariel. She remembered Sergeant Penreth of the Borderers, telling her about tracking a wolf that had started to kill for pleasure, a rogue that had been banished from its own pack. Penreth had said such rogues were among the greatest dangers in the Forest, for their unpredictability and bloodlust. ‘We’re having dinner with them tonight, and I’m fairly certain my parents really do want me to marry Aronzo.’

‘But you won’t!’ exclaimed Bel. ‘Will you?’

‘No,’ said Clariel. ‘I’m getting out of here. Soon. Going back to Estwael and the Great Forest.’

‘What? Why would you want to do that?’

‘Because that’s where I’m supposed to be!’ said Clariel. ‘That’s where my proper life is!’

‘Oh,’ said Bel. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Clariel. She sat down on the end of his divan with a long sigh. ‘Nobody else understands it either.’

‘No, I think I do understand,’ said Bel. ‘I’m just a bit slow … It’s like me wanting to be an Abhorsen, a real Abhorsen. Everyone at home thinks it’s a bit of a joke. That’s why I got sent here.’

‘Why?’

‘My great-uncle … your grandfather … the Abhorsen, he got tired of me asking about things he couldn’t or didn’t want to answer, and then when I started asking Cousin Yannael, the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, she got really cross. All that lot care about is Grand Hunts, you know, the full thing with horses and dogs and a hundred beaters that go on for days on end … so Great-Uncle Tyriel got rid of me.’


Tags: Garth Nix Abhorsen Fantasy