Poison (16 page)

F
OR A LONG WHILE
, Ariana couldn’t move her body much, though she had little trouble moving her jaw. She talked nonstop.

“Why is there a
pig
trying to climb on top of me?” she’d asked after Kyra let Rosie back into the room. The little pig kept butting Ariana with her head until Kyra reached down and popped the small scrap of green silk out of her basket. “By the Goddess, Kitty, I’m completely
naked
!” she’d complained, until Kyra found her a simple day dress in the old Choizie Laurent closet. And “I am
so
glad to see you,” she said as she, at last, started stretching out the kinks in her long limbs.

Kyra grabbed up her friend in a huge hug, and Ariana hugged her back—so hard that Kyra’s tears threatened to spill all over again.

There was no doubt that this was the real Ariana. Kyra didn’t need her Sight to tell her that. “That pig is named Rosie, by the way, and she helped me find you. You should be nice to her.”

The little pig sank down onto her haunches next to Ariana, closed her eyes, and gave out a great big gusty sigh, as though she needed a nap after her exertions.

“Did you really try to kill me? And missed?
You?
” Ariana asked, drawing the day dress down over her torso.

At Kyra’s confused look, she added, “I was frozen, but I wasn’t deaf. The only thing I could do was eavesdrop. Being a clotheshorse is
so
boring.”

“Um, yeah. Tried to kill you. And missed,” Kyra said, settling on the floor and petting Rosie. “But obviously it wasn’t
really
you—you were here.” The giddiness Kyra was feeling swelled into an all-encompassing joy as the thought truly struck home—she wasn’t going to have to kill her best friend.

“And you knew that it wasn’t really me?” Ariana gently pulled on her elbow with her other hand, stretching her shoulder blade and the muscles in her back.

“Well, no, not exactly.”

Ariana eyed her over her elbow.

“Actually…I thought you were possessed.”

Ariana looked at her thoughtfully. “There’s no cure for possession.”

“None.” Kyra squeezed her hands together. “You have no idea how glad I am that I was wrong!”

“Still, Kyra—killing me? That’s a little harsh.”

Kyra was going to have to tell Ari about her vision. She would never forget the look on her friend’s face the day they’d met, when Ari had told Kyra that witches weren’t even human. Ari didn’t know about Kyra’s witch spark, and she wished things could stay that way. The last thing Kyra needed was to lose her best friend when she’d only just gotten her back.

“Don’t give me that look. Did I, or did I not, just save your life?”

“You did.” Ariana reached out and squeezed Kyra’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Kyra felt the weight of the last three months lift off of her as she leaned against her friend. “So, what happened, Ariana?”

Ariana shrugged in response and put on the long soft pantaloons she wore under her dresses to give her more mobility. “I came down here with my ripped-up wedding gown. I was horrified about what I’d done and thought maybe Gabrielle could fix it and hide the evidence. When I came into the shop, the girl at the counter directed me to the back room. The moment I walked in, I was frozen.”

“A witch’s sticky trap,” Kyra said.

“If you say so.” Ariana shrugged. “All I heard was a man’s voice—an old man. ‘Oh, foo!’ he said. I felt a drop of potion on my hand, and then my body went all—well, you saw what I looked like.” She shuddered. “Whoever it was dragged me into this storeroom, cut my clothes off me, and stacked me with the rest of the dummies.”

“And sent a fake princess back to the palace to take your place.”

“Do we have to get rid of the fake princess? If she wants my life, she can have it. She can marry the prince, run the kingdom, and end up shut inside that palace.”

“The fake princess is evil, Ariana. She’s going to destroy the kingdom.” Kyra could feel her heart pounding, and the room began spinning around her. She’d thought for a moment that she’d be able to somehow avoid this.

But she needed to convince Ariana completely.

The kingdom needed her.

“And I know she’s evil,” Kyra said, her olive eyes meeting Ariana’s blue ones, “because I’m a witch.”

“You’re my best friend—I’d know if you were a witch.”

“I had a vision of the fake princess destroying the kingdom.” Kyra shut her eyes. “That’s my power as a witch—I’m a Seer.”

“A Seer?”

Kyra opened her mouth to explain, when the door burst open.

Fred flew into the room, Langley beside him. He caught sight of Kyra and Ariana sitting together on the floor and shouted, “Stop! I can’t let you do this, Kyra!”

Langley came over to Kyra and put his nose in her palm.

“Fred?” Kyra rubbed the pup’s snout. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Fred stood blinking, as though he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing. His clothes were disheveled from his nap on the floor, and he had a spot of springberry pie on his chin. “I dozed off for a minute or two, and by the time I was awake, you were gone.”

Darn. He hadn’t eaten enough pie. “And how in the world did you find me here?”

“Oh. I, um, nicked your tracking potion earlier and tagged you while you were cutting the strudel. I had a feeling I might not be seeing you again unless I took matters into my own hands. Speaking of which—”

Fred walked over and touched her gently on the shoulder. “That stuff burns.”

“You’ve got pie on your chin.”

He swiped at his jaw with the back of his hand.

Kyra realized that Ariana was glaring at her.

“What are you doing with
him
?” the princess demanded.

“Fred? I’m not doing anything with him. How do you know Fred?” As Kyra was saying this, something struck her: he’d called her Kyra. Not only did Ariana know who Fred was, Fred knew who Kyra was too.

“Hmmm…let’s see.” Ariana tapped her chin like she was thinking. “Well, there was that whole marriage thing that was supposed to happen.”

“What?”

Stiffly, Ariana stood and walked through to the Choizie Laurent closet. Reaching deep inside, she pulled something from the highest shelf and brought it over: a small portrait. Of Fred. With the words
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCE FREDERICK LANTANA III, OF ARCADIA
.

Kyra felt like she’d been thrown down from a tall height.

Fred—who, less than an hour ago had been kissing her—was engaged to her best friend.

He’d mentioned his dad was a perfumer. Of course the king of Arcadia would be a perfumer. Arcadia was famous for its perfumeries.

Fred eyed her uneasily. “Can we discuss the whole assassination thing? Are you planning to murder the princess any time soon?”

Kyra and Ariana simultaneously rolled their eyes.

“Not at the moment,” Kyra said. “Though, there’s
another
royal in the room I’d like to see dead.”

“Oh, that’s good. Really good! We’re clearly starting off on the right path here.” He sat down on a giant bolt of purple fabric. Langley had found Rosie and curled himself around her.

“Ugh,” Ariana said. “He’s even worse in person.” She smiled innocently at him and shrugged. “Sorry ’bout that, I can’t help it—Kyra gave me a truth serum!”

“Right.” He smiled nervously. “I’m sorry that I lied to you, Kyra. I can’t say that I wasn’t out looking for the princess’s assassin. I was.”

“So it wasn’t just coincidence that I ran into you.”

“Actually, it was. I wasn’t exactly aggressive in my search for the assassin.” He shifted his weight. “More like, if I happened to run into her and captured her, that would be okay. I never expected to find the assassin crossing a stream in her underwear with a pig on top of her head.”

A puff of laughter escaped Ariana.

“I never dreamed the assassin was you.”

Kyra and Ariana exchanged a look.

“God’s honest. The confusion potion at the witch’s should have been a clue, but I was so sure I knew who you were: Kitty, the dairymaid with the pig.”

Ariana interrupted. “Wait, you said you were a dairymaid?” She started cackling. “Oh, Kitty, you are the best. Why in the world would anyone believe
you
were a dairymaid?”

Fred pushed his hands through his rumpled hair. “I only knew for sure it was you when I saw that poison in your bag. That’s the truth. Do you want to give me some of this truth serum I keep hearing so much about?”

Kyra shook her head.

“I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I couldn’t let you go. I had to figure something out.”

“Well, you did a great job,” Kyra said. “You only lost me completely for the better half of a week.”

“You are a slippery kitty cat,” Ariana said. “I’ll give him that. A half week’s not too bad, really.”

“So,” Fred said, “you aren’t trying to kill the princess anymore?”

“Oh, I’m still trying to kill the princess, just not this one.”

Kyra let Ariana explain everything to Fred, figuring she should have plenty of energy for storytelling—she hadn’t been on the hunt for the past three months. Right now, several months of vacation on the floor of a tailor’s shop sounded kind of nice to Kyra.

Her heart hurt.

She’d found Ariana, but she’d lost so much—her career, her friendship with Ned and Hal, and now Fred, who was smiling dopily at the princess as she talked. His fiancée.

Kyra’s heart was breaking.

Ariana nudged her. “What do you think, Kitty? Is the impostor princess a shape-shifter?”

Kyra stamped down the feelings that were threatening to engulf her. “She doesn’t have any of the traits of the shape-shifters in the books at the palace library. Maybe—”

The front door of the shop banged open, and in strode an old man.

“Oh, foo!” the old man shouted when he saw the unfrozen Ariana. “What are you—”

Recognition lit Ariana’s face. “You!”

Recognition lit the old man’s face too, as he saw Kyra. “You!”

And Kyra sighed and said,
“You.”

Because the old man was Ellie the hermit.

K
YRA HAD GUESSED AS MUCH
, but now she knew for sure: Ellie was the kidnapper.

It was Ellie who’d frozen Ariana in this back room, Ellie who’d stacked her up with the mannequins, Ellie who’d gotten rid of the princess’s things. That’s why he’d had Kyra’s poison in his apartment, that’s why Ariana recognized him, and that’s why Rosie had first led Kyra to him. That bit of scarf had probably been in Ellie’s keeping for so long that he’d stunk it up with his old-man smell before it ended up in Arlo’s possession.

But why had Ellie kidnapped Ariana?

Kyra slipped a clean needle out of her holster and hid it behind her back. Taking him out with a Doze dart would stop him from escaping, but it wouldn’t help her find out what she wanted to know.

“Ellie,” Kyra said, “so nice of you to drop in. What brings you here at this time of night? Or anywhere, really—since you so rarely leave Newman House?”

“My own business here, isn’t it?” Ellie said. “I own this place, can come around here any time I want.”

Ariana and Kyra exchanged a look. Ellie the hermit
owned
Gabrielle’s?

“You seemed awfully upset when you saw my friend Ariana here unfrozen,” Kyra said

“You broke into my store!” He started edging backward. “I should go to the constable right this minute.”

“I don’t think you want to do that.” Kyra didn’t have time to mess with a potion. Dropping the needle, she got into position to stop him with her body. “I think we should have a chat.”

As Fred stood up, the hermit fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a fistful of potion tubes. “Don’t step one foot closer! I’ve got weapons here that will put you all out for good! Stole them from her”—he gestured to Kyra with his chin—“so you know they’re dangerous.”

Kyra paused. He’d had the Peccant Pentothal in his room. Who knew what else he might have taken?

Ellie tossed two vials in the air and spun toward the door. Kyra lunged to catch them as Fred dashed after the old man. Unfortunately, Kyra dove directly in front of Fred, and they fell into a heap on the floor.

Kyra held a vial clutched tight in each hand.

Fred untangled himself and ran outside. He came back moments later. “He’s gone. Old man runs fast.”

Kyra opened her hands.

“Oh-one two-three-three. Gas Relief. Must be one of Ned’s. Can’t eat that much pie without consequences.” She turned the second bottle so she could read the label. “And 01 672. Sparkling Clean Dish Solution.”

She felt so stupid. She couldn’t get anything right. Now Ellie was out there somewhere, and they weren’t any closer to having answers.

“Wow,” Ariana said, “this really sucks.”

“No kidding.” Kyra brushed her long hair back with her hands. “Why in the world would he have kidnapped you? What could he possibly have to gain by it? He’s just a crazy old guy who lives by himself.”

Ariana shook her head and put the small portrait of Fred back into the locker. “So,” she said, coming back to them. “What do we do now?”

“First, we get some sleep.” Kyra said, her heart lifting a little at hearing Ariana’s
we
. “Then we make a plan.”

Fred, Ariana, and Kyra wound through the night-quiet streets of Wexford. Fred and Ariana spoke in hushed voices behind Kyra, Ariana’s laugh occasionally bubbling up into the dark. By the time they entered the forest on the far side of the palace, their voices had grown louder and they seemed to be enjoying themselves.

“Keep it down!” Kyra hissed. She forced herself to think about something else.

They needed to track down the fake princess, but it would help if first they knew what they were up against. What
was she?

Kyra tried to open herself to her Sight, tried to focus it on the fake princess. But the only thing that flashed into her mind was the shriveled old face of the witch who had tried to kidnap them in the forest. She shivered; the witch had frozen her and Fred, just as Ariana had been frozen.

Was that why her image kept flashing into Kyra’s head?

She thought about the false princess in her vision—looking down from her parapet while the world beneath her withered and turned black. Kyra took a sharp intake of breath. What was it the witch had said she’d been touched by?
An obeeka
.

“What’s an obeeka?” Kyra asked.

Ariana said, “Oh, you know—kid’s monster story. Parasite that sucks the life out of people.” She waggled her fingers. “Oooh, scary!”

Fred laughed with her.

Kyra scowled and kept her thoughts to herself. What if obeekas
weren’t
just storybook monsters? If an obeeka could suck the life out of those around it, why not suck the life out of an entire kingdom using the Nuptial Bond?

“I think I know what the imposter princess is,” Kyra said. “Fred and I ran into a witch who told us an obeeka had touched me.”

Ariana squinted. “Stupid obeeka should know better than to touch our Kitty.”

“I’d hate to take the word of an evil witch who tried to eat us.” Fred threw a stick for Langley. “Is this one of those Seer things?”

Kyra ignored his question as the woods gave way to a small clearing. “We’re here,” she said.

“Good thinking, Kitty,” Ariana said. “I never would have thought of this.”

“Is it just me or are we looking at a completely empty meadow?” Fred asked.

“It’s just you,” Kyra said. She began the process of dissolving the concealments hiding the tiny secret hut where she used to hide things for her adventures with Ariana.

She put her potions back in their bag and opened the door. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Fred stepped inside the small shack and examined the dusty weapons hanging on the walls. “I’m glad we’re on
the same side.”

“Me too,” Ariana said.

Kyra walked around Fred to a trunk and pulled out some moth-eaten bedding. There was space for maybe two of them to sleep on the floor, but not much more.

“I’ll sleep out here with Langley,” Fred said. “You girls can have the luxury of sleeping under a roof.”

“No, the royals should have the luxury of a roof,” Kyra said, thinking it’d be easier to sneak away in the morning.

Kyra felt a hand on her back. “Don’t even think about it.” Ariana’s voice came from behind her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know you—you’re looking for a way to ditch us and go after this obeeka on your own.”

Kyra turned to her friend. “If you got hurt, Ariana, I’d never forgive myself.”

Ariana straightened, changing from a bedraggled-looking girl into the heir to the throne. “I want to save the kingdom too, Kyra. Promise me you’ll give me a chance to do it.”

Kyra finally nodded. “You’ve got my word.”

It took Kyra some time to fall asleep even with the warm pig tucked in beside her.

The memory of Fred’s—Ariana’s
fiancé’s
—kiss at the inn seared her. How could he do that knowing he was engaged to someone else?

The next morning, Kyra woke to the sound of birdsong, the crackle of a fire, and a lilt of two voices intertwining—

Fred and Ariana.

She stretched and felt for Rosie but found her bedroll empty. Light streamed in through the cracks around the
door.

Outside, Fred was smiling his sunny smile at Ariana; Rosie was draped across her lap. The smoky smell of the fire was tinged with the sweet scent of something cooking.

Mmm, food.

“Kitty!” The princess interrupted her own stream of talk to pat the ground beside her. “You’re still here.”

Fred looked quizzically at Kyra. “Where else would
she be?”

“You never know where you’ll find our slippery kitty cat. Fred’s making us breakfast.”

Fred drizzled honey over a pan of springberries bubbling on the fire.

Kyra shivered in the cool morning, settling next to Ariana. She was still wearing the white blouse, and it didn’t keep her as warm as her usual black shirt. But the soft fabric felt nice against her skin, so she’d resisted changing back.

Rosie opened an eye, and Kyra rubbed her cheek. The little pig shut her eye, lifting her cheek a fraction to give Kyra a better angle. Langley was chasing butterflies around the meadow.

Fred handed Kyra and Ariana warm biscuits. “So where do we start?”

Kyra took a bite and moaned happily. The springberries went perfectly with the toasty biscuits. Fred was a truly amazing cook. “I wish we knew more about what an obeeka can and can’t do—if we’re going to expose the fake princess, we need to be prepared.” She wiped biscuit crumbs off her pants. “The only thing I really know about them is the old children’s game called Face-stealer.”

“We played that game!” Fred said, rocking back on his heels. “The Face-stealer is picked by drawing straws, secretly, then runs around tagging people. The idea is that no one knows who it is, see? You can’t trust
anyone
. If the Face-stealer touches you, you fall to the ground. Last person standing wins.” Fred nibbled a biscuit. “Stupid game. Our diplomats must have picked it up from Mohr.”

“Or
our
diplomats picked it up from you.” Ariana lobbed her biscuit at him.

“You know the game, princess?” Fred asked.

Ariana chuckled, bitterness showing on her face. “I wasn’t allowed to play with other children.”

“It’s never too late.” Fred smiled wickedly. “Up! I’ll show you how it’s done.”

“It sounds like it’s just running around.”

“There are
skills
involved—skills of deception and treachery!”

Ariana set Rosie on the ground and took off running, Fred chasing her with a growl and the lumbering gate of a bear. Kyra had only ever played a few times. She hadn’t been all that interested in courtyard games. But at least she’d had the chance. Ariana hadn’t.

Ariana needed Fred. Not just to marry her and run the kingdom with her—she needed the fun, the playfulness that was all Fred.

They came back and flumped down, breathless. “Don’t get too confident,” Ariana said. “It was just my first game—next time I’ll be prepared.”

Kyra patted Ariana on the knee. “I’m sure you will, Ari.”

“That game was not,” Ariana said, “very instructive.”

Fred took the pan off the fire. “But it
was
fun.”

“I wish we knew who was involved,” Kyra mused. “Someone helped the obeeka, and not just Ellie—someone inside the palace gave her the information she needed to imitate you. It could be anyone. We don’t know who we can trust.”

“Just like the game!” Ariana said, plucking a berry out of the pan. Juice dripped from her fingers.

“Who would benefit?” Fred asked. “Who’s next in line for the throne after Ariana?” He handed her a clean red handkerchief from his pack.

“In Mohr, succession is through the female line. It would go to Mom’s sister,” Ariana said, making a face. “The Duchess Genria. Or to her daughter.”

Kyra cracked a smile. “Believe me, the duchess’s daughter is the least likely person in the world to be behind this.”

“Why do you think that?” Fred asked.

“I’ve known her all my life,” Ariana said. “Not a suspect.”

“It could be anyone,” Kyra repeated. She reached for the handkerchief to wipe her hands. “I think we need to find the fake princess before we’ll know what to do next. I’ve been searching for her for months, though, and I have no idea where they’re hiding her.”

“I know where she is,” Fred said.

“What?” Ariana and Kyra said at the same time.

“I’m full of untapped knowledge and wisdom.” Fred folded his hands behind his head. “I am the groom, after all.” He told them the story of how, while on his way to Mohr to start the whole pre-wedding business, a group of couriers had intercepted his traveling party. They’d had an urgent message about the assassination attempt, and redirected him to meet the princess at the ducal palace at Avon-on-the-River, where she was in protective custody. “Top secret and all that. Well, I wasn’t going to be hemmed in like a poor nobleman who can’t do a thing for himself. So I ditched my group and set off. I told everyone I was going to find the assassin myself, but I got a bit distracted.” He lay back and crossed his legs. “Hey, the fishing in your kingdom is the best I’ve ever seen. You can’t blame a guy.”

“You’re the man my parents have selected to be the next leader of the King’s Army?” Ariana snorted.

“Apparently. I hope the soldiers like fishing.”

“Does anyone know where you are?” Kyra asked Fred.

“Besides you two?”

“
That’s
why they postponed the wedding.” Kyra twisted the handkerchief into a knot. “It wasn’t because of me trying to kill the princess at all. They lost the groom.”

“The ducal palace,” Ariana murmured. “Interesting place to hide the fake me.”

“Why is that?” Fred asked.

“It’s where the duchess lives with the duke when she isn’t at the palace in Wexford.”

“Which doesn’t mean anything,” Kyra said. “Except that Ariana and I have both been there, and we know a few ways to get in that aren’t exactly common knowledge.”

While Fred cleaned up, Ariana and Kyra went through the stock of weapons in the hut.

The walls were lined with a myriad of dangerous items—razor-thin rapiers, broadswords as tall and thick as Kyra’s legs, maces, knives, throwing stars, and staves. There were so many spiky, deadly-looking things that the walls fairly glinted with menace.