IGMS Issue 26 Page 7

  Bay spotted the two guards around a bend of the hallway and gave them a nod; they could be allies in this campaign. When they nodded in return, she went inside her chamber and closed the door. She made a careful examination of the room, the entrances and exits, the dark corners. When she was certain she was alone, Bay put her thumb over the mouth of the lead bottle and gave it a few hard shakes.

  Khloromain emerged, clutching his head between his hands.

  "Did you perhaps," said Bay through her teeth, "forget to mention something important on that notice?"

  "I can't think what you're --"

  Bay gave the bottle a few more shakes, and the imp howled in pain.

  "Well?"

  "Yes, yes, there's a punishment if you don't solve it -- you can't seriously be concerned -- I have no doubt of my wise and experienced mistress's ability to settle this matter, with my help . . ."

  "Ah." Bay sat on the bed and unstrapped her scabbard. "'With your help.' You clever thing. Now that I'm in it, you think I'll either need a wish to solve the riddle, or to save my neck after three days."

  "To the benefit of us both," said Khloromain. He settled on her shoulder, rubbing his temples.

  She drew her sword and ran her fingers up and down the blade, just to feel the familiar metallic sting. "Were you listening?"

  "Of course."

  "What do you think?"

  "To be honest?" said Khloromain. "I think something about this arrangement is fundamentally suspect."

  "I agree," said Bay, sheathing her sword. "Kings don't give away daughters like medals, even if they have a dozen of them. Nor their dowries. Not for the sake of a few dozen shoes. There's more to this than we're being told."

  Timid knuckles rapped on the door.

  It was another one of the princesses, much brighter of mien than her sister, bearing a tray with a goblet balanced upon it. "Settled already?" she chirped, as soon as Bay opened the door. "Here's something for before bed. I knew you'd want to see what the palace wine cellars hold, all soldiers do -- so they say, anyway -- I suppose it's not fair to judge you by all the others but then again I've yet to meet a soldier who didn't. I'm Lucretia, by the way. Do try it!"

  "Thank you, your highness," said Bay. Griselda, Lucretia -- it was going to be a nightmare telling them all apart. She raised the glass in a gentle toast and drained it. "I'll keep watch in your chambers while your regular guards watch from outside. If anyone tries to break in, I think he'll find -- " She broke off. Unbearable drowsiness crushed her brain like a heavy quilt. Her knees buckled.

  "Oh dear!" cried Lucretia. She put the tray on an end table and caught Bay's elbow. "But you must be exhausted. It's a good thing we had this chamber made up before you came!"

  "No, I --" said Bay. She couldn't tell whether the slur in her words was the fault of her tongue or her ears. The lines and corners of her vision turned to dim shapes. She clung to the Lucretia's arm because that contact was suddenly all she could be sure of. "Got to --"

  "Hush," said Lucretia. "Here's your bed." Bay realized she couldn't tell whether she was upright or lying down. And then it didn't matter, because sleep seized her so tightly that she couldn't do a thing about it anyway.

  II. The Second Night

  The sunlight was made of daggers. Bay, flat on her back, threw an arm across her clenched eyelids to block it before she remembered that she should not be on her back and that, the last she knew, the sun was not up. She sprang upright. A searing headache and a tangle of sheets sent her crashing back down. She landed hard on the floor beside the bed.

  Khloromain, hovering over an open book on the end table, said, "How gracefully my mistress wakes."

  Bay clutched her head. She barely had the presence of mind to curse him. "What happened?"

  "Think it over," said Khloromain, going back to his book. "I'm sure you can puzzle it out."

  It came back slowly. The dice game, the king's notice. The king himself. A glass of wine. "The princesses," Bay gasped.

  She scrambled to her feet and burst into the hallway. The guards at the princesses' door were still there, looking a bit weary themselves. "Missed the fun, I take it," said one, as Bay fumbled in her pocket for the key. "Don't worry. Nobody went through that door. Not that it's helped before, mind."

  Bay put a finger to her lips. She creaked open the door. The princesses sprawled across their beds, resplendent in brilliant sleeping-gowns: a confetti of princesses. A blue silk shoe lay discarded near the door. Bay picked it up and backed out of the room noiselessly. Once the door was shut behind her, she took a look. The sole was worn through.

  "Damn me," she said.

  "Two more nights of that and it'll be the chopping block that damns you," the talkative guard observed.

  Bay turned the shoe over and over in her hands. She'd been nearer to death than two days, but something about this piece of corrupted silk gave her the unsettling feeling that she was fighting a new and very dangerous kind of war.

  One night gone. The king didn't ask how she was doing, and she didn't tell him. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that someone had put a drug in her wine the night before; but since she couldn't guess who or why, she didn't want to tip her hand to anyone. She suspected the princesses. If that was true, they were not her clients; they were her adversaries. But she needed more information.

  "I'd like to talk to your cobbler," she said to the first princess she saw that morning. "Where is he, please?"

  "Oh -- hmm?" said the princess, eyes widening slightly in badly-concealed alarm. "I don't know where he works. I really don't."

  After that, Bay found that the difficulty was not getting the princesses' attention; it was getting away from them.

  The twelve princesses had the cumulative ability to be simply everywhere. One lounged idly in the kitchen, striking up vapid chatter whenever Bay tried to ask the maids what they'd seen. There were two in the rear garden: shy, wide-eyed types whose twin gazes seemed to rob the gardeners of their powers of speech. The front garden -- a green maze of topiary and roses -- held a princess whose passion, it seemed, was walking the paths with her nose in a book, just a few paces behind Bay.

  "The cobbler?" said Bay, as she helped a little boy weed flowers near the fountain.

  He cast a brief look of terror over his shoulder, before exclaiming, "Look! A worm!" and launching into a litany of his favorite types of bug.

  Bay looked behind her. A princess smiled and waved.

  At the gatehouse, Bay reminisced with the head guard. He too had fought Suramanco in the south, and didn't seem to mind that the princess Lucretia had settled herself in the grass nearby to do her embroidery, clearly noting every word.

  "They say princes have tried this task," Bay said to him, while Lucretia pretended nonchalance.

  "Oh aye," said the guard. "Quite a few of 'em. What's it now? Fifteen?"

  Bay staggered. "Fifteen?"

  "One after t'other," said the guard cheerfully. "Oh, chin up, girl. It's no great loss. Suramanco's youngest son, Vorland's eldest. Two from Albica! Suppose his third son's got more sense." He chuckled. "If this'd all happened before the wars we might've had better luck, eh?"

  The memories of battle rose in Bay's mind, as they did sometimes, loud and bright as the red fields of Barrowgate, where the Suramancan war had been lost. "Luck," Bay echoed. From the corner of her eye she saw that Lucretia had stopped sewing and had her head cocked toward them. She raised her voice. "Which prince did you prefer, your highness? Did any catch your fancy?"

  Lucretia ducked her head over her embroidery. Her cheeks went brilliantly red.

  The head guard laughed. Bay, wary of mirth at the best of times, did not.

  Late after dinner Bay washed up and dressed as if it were a second morning instead of night.

  "I've talked to the guards at the princesses' chambers," said Bay as she hooked her jacket up the front. "They hear nothing at night. The cooks and maids have seen nothing. The royal hairdresser, the haberdasher, the pedicu
rist -- how many people does it take to dress a princess, anyhow?"

  "More than you'd think," said Khloromain. "Effortless beauty can be devilishly hard work."

  "No one's seen anything unusual -- at least, that they're willing to admit. Nothing but the shoes. And I'm certain the princesses drugged my wine last night."

  "Of course they did," said Khloromain. "With a dosage meant for a strapping young prince, I don't doubt. It would have worked on him much more slowly. Foolish princesses."

  "I'll bet you gold that they try it again," said Bay. "And that they aren't so foolish with the dosage this time."

  "Then how exactly are you going to keep from tipping your hand?"

  To answer, Bay took up a folded towel and laid it against her chest. She fastened her jacket to the neck around it.

  "I drink," she said. "Very messily."

  "As a soldier does," said Khloromain, but his eyes took on a sly approval.

  Bay nodded. "I'll either get to see what is done to them or what they do," she said, as she was tying her hair up. "After that, we'll know for sure who to blame."

  "That's rather thin information for your second of three nights," said Khloromain. "If my lady pleases, I could --"

  She patted her bun into place. "As a favor, or as a wish?"

  Khloromain rose, turning deeper red. He whipped back and forth in midair. "You're so predictable!" he cried. "Just three wishes between me and freedom! I could give you anything. I could fix your leg, I could build you a prince to wed, I could invent for you a kingdom! And here you are wasting your time scuttling after whatever dregs you can pull in through your own mortal power. Wealth, land, fame, strength, the whole green world -- just pick three!"

  Bay endured this familiar tirade with a weary smile. "I think I'll see what I can earn of that first. You've three chances to save my life. I'm not going to spend you on anything less."

  "So I've noticed," said Khloromain acidly.

  Bay poked a finger into his chest, grinning. He scowled back. "And that 'wasting my time' you mentioned?" she said. "We mortals call that 'living.'"

  He sniffed. "Enjoy it, then. By my count you have a day and a half left to do it."

  Someone knocked on the door.

  It was Lucretia, the bright and talkative princess, bearing a goblet on a tray. Bay took the goblet and raised it in a short salute, just as she had done the previous night. "Thank you, your majesty." She tipped it back.

  Wine flowed past her closed lips and down the sides of her face; the towel at her chin and chest grew sticky. She wiped her face with her sleeve -- and took the chance to tuck the towel down further at the same time. "Wonderful." She put the goblet back on its tray. "I'll be standing guard in your chambers tonight."

  Lucretia balked. "What?"

  "It's the only way to protect you," said Bay. "Come along. I'd hate to delay your bedtime."

  "But I --"

  Bay strode to the princess's chambers, nodded to the guards, and flung open the door.

  The eleven of them stopped dead. "Yes?" said Griselda.

  "Don't mind me," said Bay. "I thought I'd stand guard over you tonight. In case something happens you're not awake to see."

  Griselda's face froze. "No commoner has a place in our chambers at night."

  "Your father didn't think so," said Bay. "Shall we ask him?"

  Griselda's scowl nearly dimmed the lights. "Very well. Can we offer you refreshment before your long night on watch?"

  If Bay had any doubt whether their wine was drugged, that settled it. She took up a post at the door. "One glass of wine is enough," she said. "No need to tax your highnesses' generosity."

  Griselda's bitter laugh would have been more fitting in a brothel or prison than in the bedchamber of the daughters of a king.

  Bay hadn't been on a proper guard since her tour of duty ended, and she was badly out of practice -- but she put on a good enough show. She kept a sharp eye out as they got ready for bed. Bustle died down and calm descended. But before long, restlessness began again. That was Bay's cue. She gave a huge yawn, let her legs go out from under her, and slid to the floor.

  At once the bedroom perked into activity. In a moment, one of the princesses had her hand on Bay's arm, urging her to stand, helping her to a bed while saying soothing things. Bay went where she was led. She let them lower her onto a bed far softer than she expected, and she didn't move.

  Whispers: "Is she asleep?"

  "She is asleep." One of the older girls, by the sound of it. "Hurry. She's held us up long enough!"

  The bedroom burst into rustling, scraping, and soft wicked giggles. Bay let her eyelids flicker open just slightly, once in a while. Whenever she did, she caught glimpses of swishing lace and brilliant swaths of cloth, princesses leaning close to their mirrors, jewels flashing on slender wrists and necks. Periodically one of them would pass by and poke her arm. Bay kept her face slack and quietly tallied the worst offenders.

  Griselda went further, shaking Bay's shoulder hard. "Our ever-ready guardian," she laughed, when Bay didn't react. "No wonder we lost the southern war."

  "The Suramancan prince was no wiser," giggled someone else, and many other laughs joined hers.

  Griselda said, "Are we ready, dear sisters?"

  They were.

  Bay peeked out from under her eyelashes. The princesses, cloaked and hidden under wide white masks with jewels and exaggerated eyes, joined hands in the center of the room. Spread out, they stretched from wall to wall. Their hair rustled under sudden breeze.

  The center of the floor roiled. The stones circled each other, then melted into magma. The floor pulled open like a blooming tulip to reveal a wide hole with a staircase leading down. One by one, the masked princesses descended.

  Bay waited agonizing seconds until the very last princess climbed down the staircase and out of view. She threw herself at the door -- but too late. The stones flowed together and froze.

  Bay scrambled across the floor. No trace remained of the golden circle.

  Khloromain zoomed out of his bottle. "Naughty princesses!" he crowed. "I like the way this is going!"

  "Hush!" said Bay. On her hands and knees she prodded the seams in the stonework, seeking a loose set, a soft bit of mortar. Nothing. "Go through the floor, see what's below!"

  "Why should I?"

  "Go!" Bay roared.

  Khloromain heaved a sigh and fell through the floor like a stone dropped into a lake. He returned moments later. "Below is a room filled brimming with girls' clothes," he said. "One door and no windows. Below that, half a closet and a hallway too narrow to pass a princess in a ball gown. I saw no portals -- although I cannot see the one they used here in the floor. It's a strange path they took. Even if they did their trick with the staircase again, they'd have nowhere to go."

  Bay sat back on her haunches. "Magic."

  "Clever," said Khloromain, in deadpan. "What now, my most perceptive mistress?"

  Bay stood. The room was strewn with nightclothes and combs, scarves chosen and then discarded. "Now I search this room top to bottom," she said. "There's got to be something. Anything."

  She hid the wine-soaked towel under some other dirty clothes where the princesses, at least, were unlikely to spot it, and went to work.

  Careful not to disturb things further than they could be replaced, she forged a meticulous path through the wardrobes, the drawers, the beds and settees of the twelve princesses. In one of the closets she found a mask like the ones the princesses had worn into their enchanted staircase. She tucked it away in her jacket. Otherwise, she found nothing that seemed related to what she had seen, and although she admitted she didn't know exactly what she was looking for, nothing she saw seemed out of place in a room full of women so outlandishly rich.

  She stood in the center of the room with her hands on her hips, on the spot where she had last seen them.

  "I need help," she said.

  Khloromain, amusing himself in a mirror, perked up immediately. "Your w
ish is my command!"

  "I didn't mean yours."

  He sneered. "I see." He dove into a box of pearls.

  Two nights gone, and so little to go on. Somehow, she had to follow them. Find out where they went first, if she could. And she had a day and a night to do it.

  But she had made it into their chambers. That was something.

  She said, "I'm going to try to knock them off-balance a little."

  "Oh?" said Khloromain, emerging from the jewelry box with six necklaces looped around his chest. "And just how are you going to accomplish that?"

  Bay rummaged in a bureau and came up with a piece of pumice. "Misery loves company." She took off her boots. She hunched on the edge of the bed and wedged one boot sole-side-up between her knees. A short, sad laugh escaped her. "Look how worn they are already. This won't take long." She held the shoe in place with one hand. The other brought the pumice stone down and across the worn leather, swift and deft, until the hole grew to gaping.

  Khloromain, inspecting the princesses' jewels, said, "You'll be sorry if that doesn't work."

  Bay took up the second boot. "Not as sorry as you'll be if any of their jewelry turns up missing. Remember that my misfortune is your misfortune." She destroyed the other boot and looked it over keenly. "There we are. I think we can call it a night."

  She put on her ruined boots and threw herself onto the bed the princesses had put her in. "Not bad," she said. She yawned. "Do you think we ought to wait up for them?"

  "I'll keep an eye or two open," said Khloromain. He floated over and nestled into the crook of her neck. "Look at us. Sleeping on silk and feathers. It's been centuries since I was in a princess's bedchambers. She was shy as the crescent moon. Her teeth were lanterns on a dark sea . . ."

  "Save your poetry for a princess," Bay murmured. Her eyes drifted shut.

  "For the moment, you're all I have," said Khloromain.

  She didn't reply. When her breathing grew slow and soft, the imp fell into smoke and slipped into the bottle at her waist, and the room built for twelve princesses held nothing but one soldier, fast asleep.