IT snapped, “You may give that to me, and I will hold it for her.”
I glared at IT.
His Lordship gave my silver to IT. “Come, Nesspa.” They left.
“You are my assistant, and you are a child.” IT placed the silvers in a stack on the cupboard, then lumbered to the coin basket. “You may have these.”
I went to IT and received four coppers, a fiftieth of a silver but more money than I had ever owned and much more than my promised salary. “Thank you.” I stacked my coppers next to ITs silvers.
Together we dragged the table back to its place against the wall. IT stretched out again, and I returned to my pillow near ITs head. “There is more to my tale, Lodie, and more to yours.”
I sat cross-legged on the pillow. “What happened after you found His Lordship?”
“He spent the night on my floor. He is no cleaner than a human. In the morning he stayed here while I visited your goodwife and her goodman, who are not thieves but the real spies for Tair. Their trade with the smith provides them enough to live on. They said none of this outright, but the goodwife hinted, and I deduced.”
Spies? I chewed on it and felt relief. A spy but not a murderer, a spy who’d saved the king’s life with her knowledge of herbs.
“Do we have to tell His Majesty?”
“We have no proof, and I will not reveal them to Greedy Grenny. I believe I persuaded the goodwife that I am not moody.” IT scratched ITs snout. “Now tell me what ensued after I left you.”
I did. IT made me act out my mansioning to the guards, and this time I had to mansion their parts as well. IT enh enh enhed heartily.
However, IT stopped laughing when I mentioned leaving my purse.
“You left the coins I gave you?”
“They may still be there.” I sat down again. “There’s a saying in Lahnt. Gold—”
“Spare me your quaint sayings. Tomorrow we will go to the castle and reclaim your purse.”
“I’d like to apologize to the guards.” And learn if they’d eaten my meal and been poisoned.
“They may not wish to hear you.”
“And we must find out if His Highness survived.” How awful that I hadn’t thought about this since leaving the castle.
“Yes, we must. But you have not finished your recitation. What did you do when you were outside your prison door? Surely there were more guards.”
I continued the tale. IT continued ITs questions. When I’d finally answered them all, IT said, “By coming to see why you were not dead, Her Highness as much as told you she was the poisoner. She saved you the trouble of deducing.”
Indignantly I said, “I deduced! I worked out why and how she did it.”
“Mmm. Mmm.” IT closed ITS eyes, then opened them. “You did. You did well, Elodie.”
I felt as if an audience of a thousand had just clapped for me. IT lumbered to the cupboard, where IT removed a skewer from its bundle. “Perhaps Misyur will make me a gift of the remainder of the arrows that were to be shot at me.” IT used the skewer as a toothpick and then ate it. “I imagine you will go to Sulow soon, tomorrow or even a few minutes from now, to become his new mansioner. I suppose you will not delay.”
Oh! I hadn’t given Master Sulow a thought. “Could I do both, proclaim and deduce and induce and mansion, too?”
“I do not want a sometime assistant. You needn’t worry. I will find another.”
I had more pride than that. “Who will replace me?” Nastily I added, “Is another cog coming from Lahnt?”
“Ah,” IT said, sounding pleased.
Oh. Oh. I was saying I didn’t want to be replaced. But I was a mansioner. I went to the lair entrance. A brisk wind blew cloud tatters across the sky. I stepped outside. Cold. I stepped inside. Warm. Outside again.
Master Sulow had no warmth. If he’d been my master when I’d been imprisoned in the tower, he’d likely have left me there.
Pacing back and forth between the rain vats on either side of the lair, I debated with myself.
My masteress said I didn’t have the temperament to be a mansioner, and in truth, I’d hated mansioning the moonsnake over and over for the king. But perhaps I’d merely hated the king.
And perhaps there was more than one way to be a mansioner, not simply as a member of a troupe. Since I’d been in Two Castles, I’d mansioned for Sulow, for the court, for the king, and for two bewildered guards.
But in a troupe, mansioners became better at the roles they repeated. Albin said a mansioner finds something new in a part each time she steps into it.
I felt pulled in two. I stopped thinking, wrapped my cloak around me, and stared up at the sky. The princess’s cap kept my ears warm.
Her cap! The cap of a poisoner.
I stepped back into the lair, extending my arm and holding the cap in my fingertips. At the fireplace I threw it in.
My masteress reached in and pulled it out before it was even singed. “I deduce you no longer want it.” Enh enh enh.
“I’d rather go bareheaded.”
“Then I suggest you sell it. People will fight to own a cap that once belonged to the poisoner princess. Trade it for half a dozen caps, or I will sell it for you if you like.”
“Sell it, please.” I wanted nothing more to do with the thing.
IT folded the cap carefully. “I will get a better price than you will. Now read to me. I believe you stopped at mustard.”
I found the book in the cupboard. IT had marked my place with a skewer. Outside the wind blew. IT rested ITs head on ITs front claws, ITs eyes on me.
Mother, Father, I thought. A lair is my home.
Epilogue
I did not go to Master Sulow later in the day, and during the night, while I slept in my cozy bed, my mind made itself up. I awoke knowing that, for now at least, I would remain with Masteress Meenore and mansion when the opportunity arose.
Did I mind? Did the decision feel like a sacrifice?
A little. Very little.
Master Sulow was a mere human. His breath never spiraled or turned green. With IT I would have more adventures than I’d get peering out from under Master Sulow’s thumb.
Not only more adventures, more consideration of my ideas and more friendship.
I told IT my decision over breakfast, and ITs smoke spiraled satisfyingly. “A commonsensical choice. You still have much to learn about deducing and inducing.”
In the morning we visited Count Jonty Um’s castle. Sir Misyur came to the outer ward to talk to us.
The king would live. Goodwife Celeste had saved him with broth and coarse herb bread. He’d slept a quiet night and was now closeted with His Lordship. Sir Misyur believed His Highness wanted assurance of His Lordship’s aid in any war against Tair. I thought the king would be disappointed. The count seemed to be a peaceable ogre.
Princess Renn had company in her tower. Master Thiel had charmed his way into visiting her. I supposed he must be stealing the gold rings from her fingers and the bracelets from her arms.
Master Onnore and Master Dure, the two guards, had not eaten my food. They’d been too occupied in searching for my purse—which they’d failed to find—and then in searching for me.
Sir Misyur dispatched a guard to the chamber, who returned with my purse, its wealth untouched. My masteress gave me back my cloth purse and kept the rest.
In the afternoon IT sold Princess Renn’s cap for twelve coppers, and I bought myself a kirtle, an apron, and a pair of shoes, all used, of course, but all in the Two Castles fashion, and my own cap—pink with red roses, hardly faded, embroidered around the crown. My custom went to a mending master on Roo Street, not to the mending mistress on Daycart Way who had insulted me, although I paraded back and forth by that mistress in my new finery. She seemed not to notice.
I had three coppers left from my purchases, which I knew I should save to send home, but I wanted to buy something for IT, who called ITself stingy but had shown me only generosity.
On the wharf
I found a boat wright willing to sell me a block of cypress wood for a copper, a kingly sum for a snack, but I paid.
IT was selling skewers, so I headed for the lair to hide my gift. On my way I met Goodwife Celeste again, this time at the baker’s oven. When she saw me, she hugged me hard, then held me at arm’s length and scrutinized my face.
“You are well?”
I smiled. “Very well.”
“Safe?”
I nodded.
She shook her head. “IT should never have sent you to the castle alone. Thoughtless of IT.”
Thoughtmore, I would say.
She let my shoulders go. “We’re leaving shortly, but we’ll be back. I’ll look for you.”
“I’ll be happy to see you.” And sad to see her go.
She took her loaf from the baker, and I continued toward the top of town. At the corner I encountered a crier for the king, trumpeting that His Lordship had been a lion only momentarily and only during the feast, and that he had never mauled an ox or any living thing. I saw another crier on the next corner. Greedy Grenny was making amends.
In the lair I hid the wood block, which was as thick as my thigh, under my mattress and brought it out while IT was toasting skewers for our evening meal. I placed the gift on the hearth next to IT.
“For me?” IT dropped three skewers into the fire. Smoke rose from ITs nostrils in a green spiral.
I used the poker to rescue the skewers. “You said you like the taste.” IT liked cypress and hated oak. Oh no. Had I gotten that backward?
IT touched the wood with a talon. “For me?”
“For you to eat, if you like, Masteress.”
“For me?”
I nodded. “If you don’t like, perhaps we can put it in the fire or use—”
“Burn cypress, Lodie?” IT picked up the wood and hugged it. “That would be an outrage.” ITs inner eyelids closed while IT nibbled a corner. “Excellent quality. I have not received a gift in . . . forty-two years, and that was a trifle.” IT stroked the wood.
I smiled at ITs pleasure.
“You bought this with your cap money.”
I nodded, although IT hadn’t asked.
“Of course you have no other source of funds. You thought of me.” Trailing smoke spirals, IT waddled to the cupboard, opened it, and laid the wood on the top shelf. “I will savor it slowly, or perhaps I will simply save it.”
King Grenville never thanked me for saving his life. Maybe because I’d revealed his daughter as his poisoner, he felt no gratitude. Or maybe his gratitude was aroused only by a well-cooked dish.
His criers were believed about Count Jonty Um. The tide of popular opinion had turned. By now everyone knew of Princess Renn’s attempts on the lives of her father and her betrothed, and the count was pitied and no longer feared.
But the town’s goodwill might have come too late. Other than his visit to us, His Lordship stayed away for the next week. The princess and her father removed to their own castle, where she was again imprisoned.
Soon after their departure, more news broke on the town: Master Thiel was to become Prince Thiel and to marry the princess. He had persuaded the king that he would keep Her Highness from poisoning anyone ever again. The couple would be given a burgher’s house to live in, and Pardine would be Prince Cat of the kingdom.
I supposed His Majesty no longer wanted his daughter under his roof, and I doubted they would dine together often. On King Grenville’s death, King Thiel would rule.
Sentiment in Two Castles was divided. The victims of Master Thiel’s thievery were outraged, the rest pleased.
My masteress told me ITs opinion over a mutton stew I had cooked. “When Thiel is king, he will not send Lepai to war. Until then, if King Grenville expects his son-in-law to lead anyone to battle, he will be disappointed. Thiel loves himself too much to risk even an eyebrow hair.”
I thought Princess Renn wouldn’t poison anyone again for a while at least. I believed she truly loved Thiel—tall, handsome, and now rich Prince Thiel, whose table manners were excellent. But if he angered her, he had better not eat his meals at home.
A monkey and a dog appeared in our entrance. Nesspa, trailing his chain, trotted to the fireplace where the stew pot hung.
The monkey loped in, chittered, stroked my hair, and smiled his toothy smile at me. I jumped off my high stool and curtsied. The monkey took my masteress’s front claw and stroked it.
“Welcome, Your Lordship.” From ITs pink smoke I knew IT was enduring the petting.
The monkey ran to the middle of the room and began to vibrate.
When the shift was complete, I asked, “May I give you stew, Your Lordship?” I hoped we had enough.
“Thank you.” He piled pillows on the floor and sat on them with his legs under our table. I ladled stew into ITs largest bowl and held a morsel of cheese out to Nesspa. Then I poured tumblers of apple cider for us all.
While we ate and drank, my masteress spoke at length about the making of books.
Finally His Lordship put down his spoon. “I have something to say.” His chest rose in a huge breath. “The townspeople have forgiven me for being an ogre. Seven smiled at me today.”
“That’s wonderful, Your Lordship,” I said.
“Yes.” He smiled, not the huge, sweet smile that transformed his face but a small smile that mixed pleasure and sadness.
We waited.
“Now I would like to travel.”
“Where will you go?” I asked, feeling a lump form in my throat. I was losing Goodwife Celeste, and now I would lose His Lordship.
“To Tair. Several of us live there. Humans are not so clannish in Tair.”
Nesspa curled up against the wall next to the cupboard.
“When do you depart?” IT asked.
“Soon. I want you both to come.” He blushed. “If you will. An ogre can use someone to induce and deduce and someone to mansion.”
I had no fondness for Two Castles, and one way to reach Tair involved crossing Lahnt. I might see my parents and Albin. How heavenly that would be.
Father and Mother would overcome their fear of a dragon and an ogre. They wouldn’t be like the people here.
My masteress said nothing.
His Lordship’s blush deepened. “I will pay you to come.”
IT tilted ITs head. “We will consider your proposition. You will pay handsomely?”
“Yes.”
“Lodie?” IT asked.
I nodded.
The next day, while I proclaimed, my masteress and His Lordship conferred in the lair about the coming journey. Two weeks later I had been ITs assistant for a month, and IT paid me my first wages, slowly and solemnly counting the twenty tins into my hand. I slid them into my purse, which jingled delightfully. How astonished Mother and Father would be at this wealth.
But I owed three tins to Master Dess, and I had been tardy in repaying him. I found him in the stables of the Two Castles Inn, tending a lame horse.
“I forgot, honey!” he said when I produced the coins—
carefully, although Two Castles was a more honest place now that Master Thiel was with the princess.
“Master Dess, I’m going to Tair.”
“Ah.” He patted the horse’s flank. “The cows in Tair are striped, honey, small for cows, but their milk is sweet as honey. I wish you a safe journey.”
The following day His Lordship left his castle in Sir Misyur’s trustworthy hands and took with him on the cog only enough valuables to half fill the hold. Much of the rest of the hold was stuffed with ITs hoard.
His Lordship, my masteress, and I stood on the deck along with Goodwife Celeste and Goodman Twah, who had delayed their departure to cross with us. I was glad to know the goodwife had peppermint leaves in her purse.
IT said, with satisfaction in ITs voice, “There are those who keep to their lairs and those who travel. We travel.”
The cog master raised the gangplank.
I closed my eyes and imagine
d the mountains of Lahnt and our valley hidden among them. Home and then away again with my two friends—deducing, inducing, using my common sense, and mansioning.
About the Author
GAIL CARSON LEVINE’S ELLA ENCHANTED won a Newbery Honor. Levine’s other books include EVER and FAIREST, both New York Times bestsellers; DAVE AT NIGHT, an ALA Notable Book and Best Book for Young Adults; THE WISH; THE TWO PRINCESSES OF BAMARRE; and the six Princess Tales books. She is also the author of the nonfiction WRITING MAGIC: Creating Stories That Fly and the picture books BETSY WHO CRIED WOLF and BETSY RED HOODIE. Gail and her husband, David, live in a two-centuries-old farmhouse in New York’s Hudson Valley. You can visit her online at www.gailcarsonlevinebooks.com and at www.gailcarsonlevine.blogspot.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
Also by Gail Carson Levine
Dave at Night
Ella Enchanted
Ever
Fairest
The Two Princesses of Bamarre
The Wish
THE PRINCESS TALES
The Fairy’s Return and Other Princess Tales
The Fairy’s Mistake
The Princess Test
Princess Sonora and the Long Sleep
Cinderellis and the Glass Hill
For Biddle’s Sake
The Fairy’s Return
Betsy Red Hoodie
Betsy Who Cried Wolf
Writing Magic: Creating Stories that Fly
Fairies and the Quest for Never Land
Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg
Fairy Haven and the Quest for the Wand
Credits
Jacket art © 2011 by Greg Call
Jacket design by Joel Tippie
Copyright
A Tale of Two Castles
Copyright © 2011 by Gail Carson Levine
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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