Sapphique

‘I’ll miss you.’ He looked up, and for a moment she thought there was a desolation in his green eyes. Then he smiled and it was gone.

‘And I you, Claudia.’ They rode slowly through the courtyards and quadrangles of the vast palace. Servants drawing water and hauling in waggonloads of kindling stared, their eyes on Fi

Jared raised an eyebrow. ‘That looks meaningful.’

‘Leave him to me.’

‘I don’t like leaving you with that problem, Claudia.’

‘They won’t try anything, Master. Not if the Pretender is their candidate.’ Jared nodded, the breeze lifting his dark hair. Then he said, ‘Fi

‘So what happened?’ Claudia asked.

‘If you were a Prisoner you’d have guessed. Incarceron never loses. It shed the skin from its claw and vanished. But Sapphique took the skin and made a glove and used it to cover his maimed hand. The story says when he put it on he knew all the Prison’s secrets.’

‘Including the way Out?’

‘Presumably.’

‘So why did Attia mention it?’

‘Why did Keiro try to stop her mentioning it, rather?’ Jared’s voice was thoughtful. He glanced at Fi

‘I hate him like that.’

‘It will pass.’

‘I’m more worried about what happened to cut them off.’ Claudia glanced at Jared, who nodded.

As they reached the cobbled entrance the noise of the clattering hooves drowned talk. They rode under three gateways and through the vast Barbican with its murder—

holes and portcullis. The vaguely medieval arrowslits were not Era, of course, but the Queen thought them picturesque.

They had always made the Warden tut with displeasure.

Beyond, the green fields of the Realm stretched out in their morning beauty. Claudia breathed a sigh of relief. She gri

The three of them slowed on the top of a small hill and gazed back at the Court. Its towers and pi

Jared sighed. ‘It’s strange how beguiling illusion can be.’

‘You always told me to beware of it,’ Claudia said.

‘So you should. As a society we have lost the ability to tell the real from the fake. Most of the Court, at least, don’t even care which is which. It concerns the Sapienti greatly.’

‘Maybe they should enter the Prison,’ Fi

It was two leagues to the fringes of the Forest, and almost midday when they approached it.

The road to this point had been broad and well-used — traffic between the Court and the western villages was steady, and the ruts of wheels had cut deep in the baked mud.

But once under the green canopy the trees gradually closed in, and vast deer-nibbled boughs of mighty oaks gave way to the tangled undergrowth of the wildwood. Branches hung heavily overhead, the sky barely seen through their meshed leaves.

Finally they came to the crossroads and the track that branched off to the Academy. It ran downhill through a green clearing, crossed a stream on a clapperbridge and wound its way up the other side into the wood again.

Jared stopped. ‘I’ll go on from here alone, Claudia.’

‘Master . . .‘

‘You need to get back. Fi

‘I don’t see the point,’ Fi

‘It’s vital. You have no memories, so you must impress them by your personality. By the strength you have, Fi

‘I believe you do.’ Jared smiled, calmly. ‘Now, I ask you to look after Claudia, while I’m gone.’ Fi

‘And you must look after him. I depend on both of you.’

‘Don’t worry about us, Master.’ Claudia leant over and kissed him. He smiled, and turned the horse, but she saw how under his calm there was a tension as if this separation meant more than she knew.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘Sorry?’

‘For going.’ She shook her head. ‘You’ll only be a few days.’

‘I did what I could.’ His eyes were dark in the forest shadows. ‘Remember me kindly, Claudia.’ She suddenly had nothing to say. A chill struck her; she wanted to stop him, to call after him, but he had urged the horse and it was already striding away down the lane.

Only when he had reached the bridge did she stand in the stirrups and yell, ‘Write to me!’

‘He’s too far Firm muttered, but Jared turned and waved his hand.

‘His hearing is excellent,’ she said, foolishly proud.

They watched until the dark horse and its slim rider disappeared under the eaves of the wood. Then Fi

‘Come on. We should get back.’ They rode slowly and silent. Claudia was moody; Fi

Finally Fi

‘There’s no storm ordered. Wednesday’s the Queen’s archery day.’

‘Well, it looks like a storm to me. Maybe it’s real weather.’

‘There is no real weather, Fi

‘So will we!’ Fi

‘This is all wrong. What’s going on?’ Lightning spat; from overhead the low, heavy grumble of thunder rolled down the sky. For a moment Fi

Only his horse replied. With a high whi

‘Fi

Something slashed past her, whipping into the wood, thudding into a tree.

And then she knew it wasn’t rain, or lightning.

It was a hail of arrows.

Ruined, Like the Moon

 15

Each man and woman will have their place and be content with it.

Because f there is no change, what will disturb our peaceful lives?