I pushed past her and slammed the door. “Nobody saw I don’t think.”
Iris and Gerald sat on the bed with their mouths hanging open. Behind them Percy and Penelope switched places back and forth, taking turns looking at us.
“Don’t have a conniption fit,” I said. “We’re good.”
“Whose blood is that?’ asked Gerald as he began shaking. Gerald wasn’t good with blood. After his parents were killed by the horen, he couldn’t bear the sight of it. I should’ve remembered that and gone to Delphine’s room to clean up first.
“It’s not ours. We’re fine.”
Gerald’s ten-year-old body began to quake and his teeth chattered. “Somebody isn’t.”
Iris crawled over and held him in her arms, running her thumb down his forehead and nose until the quaking diminished.
I bit my lip. I hated to tell them about Heinrich. They were all so fond of him.
“Tell them,” said Horc. “Then feed me. Food is imperative.”
“You just ate a huge schnitzel.”
“That was then. This is now. Tell.” He wriggled out of my arms and waddled over to the cupboard in the corner and began tugging on the latch that I kept locked. If I didn’t, Horc would’ve eaten every single thing in it.
“Matilda,” said Miss Penrose, sitting next to Gerald and stroking his back. “Perhaps you’d better get it over with.”
I sighed and said, “Heinrich, but he’s okay.”
I hope anyway.
“Heinrich?” asked Gerald.
“Yes. There was a riot at his shop and he was attacked.”
I gave them the story briefly while looking around for Victory, but the tiny phalanx was nowhere to be seen. If Horc hadn’t been with me I would’ve worried that he’d been eaten.
“So there was an attack at that prison,” said Miss Penrose. “Why would they hurt Heinrich over it? I don’t understand.”
Of course she wouldn’t. Miss Penrose was gentle and kind. The only battle she’d been in was our last one in Paris and she’d been so ill at the time, she barely remembered. She knew none of the insanity that ran through Paris like the Seine.
“I think they had relatives imprisoned there. They wanted information. The empress is ill and people are getting desperate. They’re terrified of what will happen if she dies.”
“Mom and Dad could be in that prison,” said Iris softly.
“And Lrag, Bentha and Daiki,” said Gerald through chattering teeth.
“Don’t mention this to Delphine,” said Miss Penrose. “It will do her nothing but ill.”
“She’d be sure Roberto was there.” I nodded. “No telling Delphine.”
“He could be there.” Gerald straightened up, his face rumpled in anger. “We have to face the facts. They all could be.”
“They’re not,” I said, making my voice strong and certain. “I think they’re in hiding like us.”
“What about the Elliots?” asked Miss Penrose. “They’re human. I can’t understand why Tess and Judd haven’t come to Vienna.”
I’d thought it through million times and the only answer was that something bad had happened after we left Paris or they would’ve come. Evan and Rebecca had seen during the fight. They knew about fairies. What could’ve stopped adult humans from coming to us? The horen was my best guess.
“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.”
“Mom and Dad need us,” said Iris. “I think we should go back.”
“We’re not going back. I promised to protect you. At least here you’re safe.”
“You say that covered in blood,” said Gerald. “What if they’re waiting for us? Have you thought of that?”
I had, also a million times, but my job wasn’t to save them. I promised Mom I would protect the children. She didn’t care about her life or Dad’s or anyone else’s. She was pretty clear about that. I’d let her down so many times with my fire and fighting that I wasn’t going to fail her in this.
“We’re not going back. Where’s Victory?”
Iris pointed to a clump of pillows and she got all sunshiny. Love. She couldn’t help it. I leaned over the bed and saw a little black marble in the pillow nest. Rufus was curling around him, glowing orange and purring so hard they were vibrating around. Around that weird little ball was Fidelé forming a scaly circle that they couldn’t roll out of. Fidelé had never shown any interest in Victory before, so that was odd.
“How’d you get them to do that?” I asked.
Miss Penrose smiled. “Victory told them to.”
“Are you serious?”
“Totally. That phalanx will be something to contend with.
He already is.
“I wonder when he gets his shell,” I said.
Gerald sat up, now steady, and Iris released him. A little of her love goes a long way.
“The Speciesapedia doesn’t say,” said Gerald.
“Well, don’t mention it. The last thing he needs is a razor sharp weapon. Let’s not give him any more ideas.”
“Agreed,” said Gerald. “Now about Paris.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said.
Iris and Gerald started to protest but then jerked upright and clamped their mouths shut.
“What?” I whispered.
They pointed at the door and Iris mouthed, “It’s Rickard.”
I sucked in a breath and looked down at my blood-splattered clothes. Gerald leapt off the bed and got in front of me.
“Horc,” I whispered and Miss Penrose snatched him and stuffed him in my bed with the covers up to his chin.
Iris ran over and opened the door with a bow to the stiff and ever-so-cranky Rickard.
“Where have you been?” he demanded.
“At…the…getting the papers,” I said with effort.
“What are you doing here? The cardinal is waiting.”
“I had to drop off Horc.”
“You took your brother? Why?”
Horc rustled around on the bed and said, “I wanted to get out. Matilda took me.”
Rickard gave a slight bow. “I see, Master Horc.” Then he turned to me with no hint of the respect he gave a baby spriggan. “Go directly to the cardinal’s apartment and be quick about it.”
“You don’t want the papers?”
What was I saying? I didn’t even have them.
“Not tonight.” He smiled a nasty smile. “The cardinal wants to see you in person.”
“What? Why?” I asked.
“I’m sure I don’t know.” The gleeful glint in his eye said he did know and it wasn’t good for me.
“I’ll be right there.”
“You’ll go now. Flutter to it.”
I stood stock still. He’d see the blood. If it was one thing I’d learned about Rickard and the master secretary, they’d take any opportunity to get rid of me. Getting myself involved in a riot would be their wish come true.
“Mattie,” said Rickard, the glint getting brighter.
“She has to tuck me in,” said Horc.
Rickard frowned. “What, Master Horc?”
“She has to tuck me in. It is her job.”
“Go ahead then, Mattie.”
“She has to sing,” said Iris.
“A spriggan lullaby,” said Gerald.
“It’ll hurt your ears,” said Miss Penrose.
I nodded. “A lot. It’s very…guttural.”
“Very well. Sing and get to the cardinal. You wouldn’t want to keep his news waiting, would you?” asked Rickard.
“Of course not.”
Rickard left and Iris closed the door behind him. “Where are the papers? Did you forget the papers?” She wrung her hands. “Oh, what’ll we do? What’ll we do?”
“There are no papers. They were burnt up,” I said. “Now everyone don’t look. I have to change.”
They closed their eyes, but unfortunately they kept talking.
“Did you use your fire, Matilda?” asked Miss Penrose. “Please s
ay you didn’t.”
Okay. If you insist.
“I dropped them. An ashray lit one on fire to threaten Heinrich.”
That wasn’t a lie. That was a partial truth. Partial is good.
“Thank goodness. If anyone were to find out who you are—”
“The horen would be able to find us,” interrupted Gerald, beginning to quake again.
I buttoned up a fresh uniform and pulled on clean tights and shoes. “They won’t find us because nobody knows.” I kissed Horc on the forehead and went for the door.
Miss Penrose stopped me. “What about the papers?”
I shrugged. “I’ll think of something.”
I had better and fast.
Chapter Seven
MY HAND REFUSED to knock. It absolutely refused to hit the door of the cardinal’s apartment. Could he possibly know about the riot? Had he lost patience with my inability to get rid of the klitzeklein trolls? He couldn’t know about Victory, could he?
I just stood there like a silly girl who was afraid of mindbenders. That wasn’t me. I fought horen, phalanx, and anyone else who wanted it. But when it came to facing the cardinal, I was terrified. So much depended on this job and Rickard was happy. Happy wasn’t good for me.
Before I could gird my wings, the door swung open. The master secretary stood there, looking puzzled at my raised fist. “Where have you been?”
I’m so getting tired of that question.
“Getting the papers,” I said.
“And yet you have none.” His eyes went all narrow and suspicious.
“Yes, about that. You see—”
The master secretary held up his hand. “Yes, your grace. Mattie is here.” He looked back at me. “Come in.”
I stepped in the chamber, which was filled with a light smoke. Jasmine incense. That was new. I coughed and went to the cardinal, who sat in a roughhewn chair that his father had made. He could’ve had a throne to sit upon, but there he was resting on a chair made by a farm hand. He looked different than the last time I saw him, very worn and diminished somehow.
“Ah, Mattie, my child, come sit with me,” he said, indicating a cushioned stool in front of him.
Before I sat, Aoife, the cathedral cook, bypassed me with a curious glance and sat a tray with porcelain teapot and a plate with a pile of lovely scones on the cardinal’s desk. She turned and spoke in rapid Irish, a language I found incomprehensible.
The cardinal shook his head and said, “In English, my dear. Mattie is here.”
Aoife rolled her brilliant emerald eyes and crossed her plump arms. “One language is ridiculous, Mattie.”
“I’m learning German,” I said, glad the subject was my linguistic deficiencies and not firing me.
Aoife switched to German. “Good.” She turned and glared at the cardinal, who appeared chastened. You’d never have known he was in charge and not Aoife, the green sidhe fairy with tiny little wings in every shade of green. “What’s this I hear about you not eating?”
“I’m not hungry,” said the cardinal.
“You must eat. You’ve been working too hard. This situation with the French is intolerable.”
“Aoife, don’t worry yourself. I’ve been very well the last few weeks. It’s only today that I’m so very tired.”
Aoife snorted and a puff of green glittery dust erupted off her skin and hung in the incense-filled air like a magical thundercloud. “See what you made me do.”
The cardinal clamped his lips together, straightened up in his chair, and folded his hands across his broad belly. “You work yourself up into a state. Now I will eat—”
“Good,” interrupted Aoife. “And you must have butter and apricot preserves. I have it from Rickard that you’ve eaten nothing since breakfast.”
“I had a small glass of wine with the archduke.”
She snorted again and a puff of dust came off her skin. “Wine. What you need is good cheese and butter. Good fats. That’s the healthy way.” Aoife turned back to the tray and picked up the teapot.
“As I said. I will eat and have some tea, but only if Mattie serves me,” said the cardinal with a smile.
Aoife gazed at me holding the teapot up like a trophy in front of her. “Mattie?”
“Yes, Mattie.”
The master secretary came forward with his hands out in a kind of plea. “Your grace, Mattie doesn’t serve. It isn’t her station.”
Didn’t I know it. My station was to get bit by tiny trolls and scrub out chamber pots.
“I wish for Mattie to serve,” said the cardinal, calmly as if his request wasn’t out of the ordinary at all. “Put down the teapot, Aoife, and leave her to it.”
“Your Grace—” said the master secretary.
“I know, my friend, this is not how it’s done, but things should always change and flow. We must never be stuck in one way of thinking about people or events. Don’t you agree?”
The master secretary clearly didn’t agree, but he bowed stiffly to the cardinal and escorted an extremely curious Aoife out the door. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had her ear pressed to the door. Sidhe were known for their curiosity, magically wonderful food, and the ability to breathe underwater. I wasn’t exactly sure what Aoife’s magical gift was, but the ability to boss everyone around was my guess.
I stood in front of the cardinal not knowing what to do. I’d expected to be fired or at least told off, not that I’d ever heard of the cardinal doing either. I didn’t expect serving. If I had I would’ve washed my hands. There were half-moons of Heinrich’s blood under my nails and red telltale smears between my fingers. I had my hands firmly shoved in my pocket where no one could see. Serving tea was out of the question.
“Worry not, my child,” said the cardinal. “The blood is of no concern to me.”
I bit my lip and didn’t move.
“You don’t believe me? I’m sorry to have not earned your trust.”
“You have, Your Grace. I just…” I trailed off.
“Mattie, you’re not in trouble. I have need of you. That is all.”
“You need me to serve? But that’s Aoife’s job.”
He ignored what I said. “We all have gifts. Some are hidden. Some are easily seen. My gift is the ability to see what is hidden. One of my gifts actually. The other is less important at this time.”
I wanted to run out of the room. The ability to see what is hidden. That was bad for me in so many ways.
“Mattie, Mattie,” said the cardinal. “I see what is hidden. I don’t reveal it.”
I nodded, not feeling reassured one bit.
“You are aware that I was ill some weeks ago?”
I nodded again. What is he getting at?
“I’m feeling ill again and I want you to pour my tea,” he said. “Do you understand?”
Understand? No, not even a little bit.
“I want you to pour my tea as only you can.”
Oh! He knows I have the healing gift. Maybe that’s all. Maybe we’re okay.
“Healer Bauer could pour your tea,” I said.
“He could, so could Rickard, Aoife, or anyone in the residence, but it would be the same tea that Healer Bauer concocted every single time. Now if you pour it…” He leaned forward and I could see that it pained him.
I took a breath and went to the tray. Even though he knew about my stained hands, I didn’t want to serve him all bloody and gross. I turned back to him, holding them up. “I can’t.”
He smiled. “It matters not at all to me, Mattie, but you may wash in my basin, if you wish.”
I poured the cool water I’d delivered earlier over my hands and scrubbed them clean in the large porcelain bowl on the cardinal’s nightstand. I did it slowly, so I could come up with a plan. But I could’ve stood there all day and not have thought of a thing. Escape wasn’t an option. Neither was lying. The cardinal knew about me. I’d been hiding so long, being known was almost painful.
I dried my hands on the linen cloth rese
rved for His Grace’s use and went to the teapot. If he knew, I only had one choice. I would do my best for him and hope my secrets would stay secrets.
The tea was ginger and white willow. The cardinal was in pain and his stomach was upset. I didn’t want to ask him about his symptoms, afraid it would reveal more of my history. The steaming tea settled in the cup and I kept my back to the cardinal. He said he could see what was hidden, but I couldn’t be sure he knew about my fire. That was something I kept pretty deep.
I blew on the cup and then put my finger in the hot brew. I didn’t know the cardinal well enough to be able to say a poem, so I used a rather generic spell I remembered from Grandma’s quick reference book. It was a good thing she required so much memorization, since the quick reference along with her medical bag had been left in Paris in our hurry to escape. I would’ve liked to use the rejuvenation spell I’d learned for Lrag when he’d had a phalanx spell put on him. But I didn’t have the pork or the vanilla required, not to mention the blood, so generic was the best I could do.
“Feel the happiness of my heart,” I whispered. “It will give you a brand new start. Do not fear the gift I bear. It will leave you without a care.”
The tea began bubbling and the scent of ginger and white willow increased tenfold, but no image of the cardinal appeared. Generic was looking pretty strong and thick though. I turned carefully, balancing the nearly overflowing cup, and placed it in the cardinal’s hands. He took a deep breath and then a small sip. Up close I could see the lines in his face and the sheen of sweat on his brow. The hair on the crown of his round head was thinning and damp. The pain was worse than I thought. I pulled the stool to his feet and placed them on it and then kneeled on the floor.
He drank with his eyes closed and I could see the pain seeping from him. The cup clattered on the saucer as his hands dropped and I took it from him. He didn’t open his eyes and for a moment I’d thought I’d made a mistake. Maybe my fire was too much for him. He was old and worn.
“You are what I needed, Mattie,” he whispered.
“The pain is better now?” I asked.
“Infinitely, my child.”
“Healer Bauer knows his tea.”
Wicked Chill (Away From Whipplethorn Book Four) Page 5
