The Vengekeep Prophecies (19 page)

The Aviard stepped aside as a tall figure joined him on the landing. From the neck down, the figure wore a one-piece leather suit like the kind a worker would wear in the Kaladark crystal mines. The suit was covered with pockets that bulged with unseen contents. A large, black glass bubble covered the figure's head like a helmet. The figure carefully walked down the stairs, gripping the polished brass railing for support. Reaching the soil below, the figure removed the bubble helmet, revealing a regal-looking woman.

I guessed her to be slightly older than Ma, with a touch more gray in the dark hair that wove around her head like a large cotton ball. The smile on her face was crooked but earnest. Her oddest feature was her uncanny eyes. Wide and unblinking, they never seemed to settle on any one spot for long, constantly flitting about in their sockets like agitated birds. All this combined to give her an ethereal quality, compounded when we heard her airy, lilting voice.

“Professor Wenderkin!” she said in a singsong tone. She set the helmet down and held out her arms to take Edilman's hands. Edilman squeezed the fingers of her bulky leather gloves, crossed his feet, and performed an elaborate bow. The Dowager blushed. “How good to finally meet you. I feel as if I know you already from your kind and effusive letters.”

“Dowager Soranna,” Edilman squeaked humbly, “the honor is completely mine. You do me such service to grant us this audience.” Edilman came out of his bow and placed his hands on Callie and me. “As promised, I'd like to present to you the two top students that Urahl Academy has to offer. Veelie,” he tapped Callie, who launched into a very elegant curtsy, “and Tyrius.” In response to my phony name, I offered a polite, stiff bow from the waist.

The Dowager tossed us both a strange, toothy smile, and I began to wonder if Callie's idea of us being eaten wasn't far from the truth. The Dowager's continually shifting eyes and the way her head swayed from side to side, as if she were daydreaming, did nothing to shake off that image.

“Please excuse the state of the hall,” the Dowager said, her arm sweeping to indicate the madness around us. “My work became more than my laboratory could contain.”

Callie squeezed my elbow as we thought the same thing.
What does the High Laird's sister need with a laboratory?

“I had just about given up hope,” the Dowager said, taking Edilman by the arm and leading him across the hall. Callie and I fell in step behind them. “Several professors have brought their most promising pupils to call, but I'm afraid none of them quite measured up. From your letters, I was sure I would find what I need in the students you promised to bring. But I was expecting you several months ago.”

Edilman nodded. “My apologies, Dowager. We would have arrived on time were it not for the fact that poor Veelie here came down with a bout of sagpox.” The Dowager winced at the news and Edilman hastily added, “But she's completely cured now and eager to see if she can serve your royal needs.”

“We shall see,” the Dowager said, with a somewhat dubious glance at Callie. “I was happy to receive your recent missive, announcing your imminent arrival. We've prepared rooms for you. I'm sure you must be tired and hungry.” The Dowager turned to the majordomo, who had been quietly following our small entourage. “Oxric, please take them to their rooms and then escort them to the dining hall.”

Oxric, the majordomo, nodded. Edilman kissed the Dowager's gloved hand as Callie and I repeated our curtsy and bow. The three of us left the Dowager in the main hall to follow Oxric up the grand staircase to the second floor. We were relieved to find that the second floor was more … normal. Callie and I waited at the top of the stairs as the majordomo took Edilman down the right-hand hallway to his room.

“I still don't like this,” Callie muttered. “I don't trust him, Jaxter. Do you?”

“I don't know.”

“Selling fateskein,” she tsked. “How stupid is that? And dangerous. For all we know, he's the one who sold the fateskein to your mother.”

I hadn't thought of that. It was possible. In one of his disguises, he could have very easily sold Ma the yarn she was seeking, not mentioning it was really fateskein. Was the problem that had come between him and my parents so great that he would have endangered them like that? I made a note to keep a closer eye on him. At the first sign of treachery, Callie and I would bolt.

Callie nodded down to the Dowager, who hadn't moved. The lady seemed transfixed by one of her sputtering machines, her head continuing to sway to unheard music. “Not what I expected from someone whose family rules the land,” Callie whispered. “She seems … not quite all there.”

I shrugged. “Should make this an easy job. We get what we need for the solvent, Edilman nicks whatever valuables he can find, we all go our separate ways.”

A moment later, the majordomo took us down the left-hand hall, stopping first to show Callie her room, then taking me to my room next door. It was massive. My room was the size of the entire first floor of our house in Vengekeep. Polished glenoak furniture. A four-poster bed with shiny, red silk sheets. A copper-trimmed fireplace. A small terrace overlooking a sprawling garden with fountains and hedge mazes. A selection of dress clothes in various sizes had been laid out on the bed. I tried each one on until I found a sharp set that fit perfectly. I studied myself in the mirror and had to admit that I looked every bit the dashing rake. I couldn't pick a lock or forge a coin to save my life, but how could the Dowager resist that smile?

Resist it she did.

When we joined the Dowager in the lavish dining room, her demeanor had changed drastically. She was suddenly cold and distant. Edilman had warned us this might be the case, that she might force us to do the talking in an effort to impress her.

We sat at the table as the knee-high mushrooms waddled in with our salad plates atop their caps. When we took the plates, the mushrooms waddled off, muttering to themselves.

“They don't seem very happy,” Callie noted.

The Dowager shook her head. “Well, you wouldn't be happy if you'd been turned into a mushroom, I dare say.”

My eyes widened. “You mean … they're not really mushrooms?”

The Dowager flushed. “Of course they are. Now. But they used to be my servants. Some of my research went a mite awry. The Palatinate had lent me a braincube and I … Well, I don't want to talk about that. I hope to get them back to normal soon.”

Callie looked sick but I was curious.
Research?

As we ate, Edilman bumbled his way through a lengthy and highly imaginative account of the curriculum at the Urahl Academy and how “Veelie” and I had proven again and again to stand head and shoulders above the other students. But the Dowager spent most of the salad course frowning, pausing only to ring a small bell that summoned the mushrooms back. They bounced up and down at our sides, holding out their stubby arms and grunting until we placed our salad plates atop their heads. They staggered away, returning in a moment with soup bowls.

By the time we'd finished our soup, Edilman had given up trying to impress the Dowager. We waited for the next course in silence, Callie and I trading glances, unsure of what to make of the strange woman or what to do next.

The muttering mushrooms returned, taking away our soup bowls and replacing them with fine bone plates heaped with generous helpings of roast panna, potatoes, and a steaming purple vegetable I hoped was monx. One mushroom scurried over to the Dowager with a covered silver bowl on its head. As the Dowager took the bowl and removed the domed top, I caught the distinctive scent of aramon leaves. The smell, like rotting blackdrupes, churned my stomach. I watched, fascinated, as she took a large spoon and covered her meal with a generous portion of the chopped leaves.

As the Dowager began eating, I felt a tug at my elbow. I leaned toward Edilman, who whispered, “The entire plan rests on you two making like you're smart. Go on. Say something intelligent.”

I sighed through my nose and pushed up my glasses. Command performances were never my strong point. I turned to our hostess and said, “If I may ask, how long has your stomach been upset, Dowager?”

The fork she'd lifted to her mouth stopped halfway there and her flittering eyes rested on me briefly, her childlike face confused. Even Edilman and Callie eyed me for asking the seemingly strange and random question.

“Come again?” the Dowager asked, lowering her fork and smiling in an “I don't know what you're talking about” sort of way.

I nodded at her plate. “I see that you've seasoned your food with aramon leaves. They're quite pungent and not all that tasty. I can't imagine someone flavoring their food with them without a good reason. The Satyrans on the island of Rexin use aramon to settle an upset stomach. From the amount you used, I guessed you've had problems for some time.”

Her eyes glistened as she regarded me with curiosity. I smiled. She straightened her back and began playing with her food. “Well, yes. I've suffered a bit of indigestion these past few weeks. The aramon has helped a great deal. It's not a commonly known remedy.” This last bit betrayed the admiration my simple observance had earned me.

“Of course,” I went on, “the problem with aramon is that it's very bitter. I would recommend letting fresh leaves dry out for a few days, shredding them, and mixing them with oskaflower honey. Takes the edge off the taste and the honey doesn't leave you with the bad breath that aramon does. And you can spread it on toast. No need to coat your entire meal with the leaves.”

For a moment, I felt like I'd channeled my silver-tongued father. I knew exactly what to say and how to say it. The Dowager's eyes widened with each suggestion I made, and behind those eyes, I could see her thinking about what I'd said and realizing that it was all true.

“I'd never thought of that,” the Dowager said, a hint of eagerness in her voice. “Are you studying to be an apothecary?”

I shook my head. “Most of what I know about remedies I got from a book.
The Kolohendriseenax Formulary
.”

The Dowager cried out, clapping with approval. “The Sarosan text. I know the very book! It's marvelous, isn't it?”

And that's how it started. She began asking me about what I'd learned from the book and soon we were discussing other titles. Without realizing it, I'd forgotten my hunger as our conversation grew deeper. My initial impression of the Dowager as tottering drifted away the more engrossed we became in sharing our theories about combining various tree saps to heal wounds caused by a darkshrike bite and about the numerous uses for mokka tree bark. Soon, our words were overlapping each other as we spoke, and my face started hurting. I hadn't realized I'd been grinning the entire time.

I've no idea how long we'd been talking, but at one point someone cleared their throat. The Dowager and I suddenly realized we'd forgotten about Callie and Edilman. I poked the food on my plate and found it was cold. I also noticed that Callie and Edilman had finished their meals. I snuck a peek at the Dowager, who gave them a small smile.

“Please forgive us,” the Dowager said, ringing a bell. The mushrooms waddled into the room and bounced until we put our plates on their heads. “Young Master Tyrius and I have been rude in neglecting everyone else.”

“Not at all,” Edilman sang, forgiveness mixing with delight in his voice. “I had a feeling you two might hit it off.” Under the table, Edilman gave my leg a congratulatory pat. “But it is rather late and the children have had a tiring day of travel. It might be best if we turn in. We can all start fresh in the morning.”

“Tomorrow,” the Dowager said, as we all rose, “I shall take you to see the East Gardens. I think you'll enjoy it quite a bit.”

“I'd like that very much, ma'am,” I said earnestly. Then, with Edilman's hand clamped on my shoulder, we turned and left the dining room.

Edilman, Callie, and I moved across the indoor forest in the foyer. We took each step of the staircase slowly, huddled close together, speaking in hushed tones.

“Bangers, Jaxter!” Edilman enthused. “That was brilliant. You've got the old bird hooked.”

We reached the top of the stairs. “So what do we do tomorrow?” I asked.

Edilman said, “Keep our eyes peeled, don't ask too many suspicious questions. We'll let her continue showing us around and let her call the shots.” He tapped his forehead. “But pay attention. We need to know this place inside out. Got it?” He gave us a salute and bounded down the hall.

Callie and I continued toward our rooms. I looked over my shoulder to where Edilman had disappeared. “You have to admit his plan is working.”

She pursed her lips, not quite ready to give Edilman any slack. “If we get the ingredients, I'll give him a pat on the head.” We stopped outside the door to her room. “You and the Dowager really hit it off.”

I swallowed hard. “What? That? All part of the con.”

She squinted at me. “Sure it was. G'night.” And she slipped into her bedroom.

In my room, I changed into the silky nightshirt the servants had laid out for me and buried myself in the most comfortable bed I'd ever known. Lying there, I stared at the patterns the bright moonlight cast on the wall, unable to sleep.