I sighed. “Please back me up on this. We had to have new supplies, new furniture.”
“If they see what you are, they will know who you are,” said Horc. “The horen will come.”
“They won’t find out. This has nothing to do with that. I won’t lose control.” I scooped him up another drink. “Be thankful. We’re better off.”
Horc drank the holy water, his moist eyes thoughtful. “Does thankfulness help?”
“It can’t hurt.”
“Lots of things have hurt.”
I kissed his stinky, knobby head and picked up the bags. “Not this.”
This decision couldn’t be the wrong one, because I couldn’t have made another one. From what I could tell the emperor wouldn’t take a ‘no’ lightly and wasn’t that dangerous as well?
“Then I am thankful…for you,” said Horc, his eyes now dripping.
I hugged him hard. What had I thought earlier, that I’d be gone once Mom and Dad got back and I was off the hook. I’d never be off the hook. Family wasn’t like that. The hook was for life.
I settled my brother on my hip and turned to see Iris flying across the nave at her top speed. My heart seized, tight and hard in my chest. Every time Iris went fast, it was bad for us. Then I saw her face, spread in a gleaming smile, her hands clasped over her chest in a barely contained joy way.
Iris dashed up, shouting, “Matilda!”
I gasped and slashed my hand through the air, mouthing, “No!”
My sister didn’t notice. She was crowing with joy. If someone heard her it could be bad. I’d told everyone that Mattie was short for Madeline.
“Stop her!” yelled Horc.
“I can’t,” I said as Iris said my real name again.
Iris stopped in front of me, hovering and panting. “You… you…won’t…believe…”
Before she could get it all out, the master secretary climbed over the edge of the font in front of me. I almost toppled back into the holy water. “Where have you been?”
“I…at the palace,” I said, my mind reeling. Had he heard? What would he say?
“At the palace? Why would you be at the palace? You’re a lowly maid of all work,” he sneered.
Horc pointed at him. “My sister is a great—”
I shoved his arm down. “Cleaner. I was hired as extra help.” I held up the letter that Casper had written. “I have a letter.”
The master secretary reached for it, but I snatched it back. “For the cardinal’s eyes.”
“Who wrote that letter?”
It seemed best to pretend ignorance. The master secretary thought I was pretty stupid already. “I don’t know. The imperial nanny gave it to me. Do you know Nanny?”
“We’ve met. You’re saying you personally know the imperial nanny?”
I couldn’t resist, the old stuffed shirt. “Doesn’t everybody? She’s very nice. She gave me a roll to have for breakfast.”
“She gave you breakfast? The imperial nanny gave you breakfast?”
Keep asking. The answer won’t change.
“Yes,” I said, sweetly. “Is that odd?”
“I’d say so. What took so long?” he asked now less nasty and more confused.
“Didn’t the footman come?”
“Yes. A footman came from the palace. You’re not saying that was about you.”
“The cardinal needed the morning papers.”
“An imperial footman delivered papers for you,” said the master secretary.
“No, for the cardinal. I was being interviewed,” I said.
“So you’re leaving us for the palace.” He seemed quite pleased with the idea.
“No, sir.”
“No?”
“No.”
The master secretary pondered this information and I waited patiently. Normally, I’d have been fluttering to get away from him, but it was fun to watch him trying to puzzle it out and failing. Iris was hovering behind him mouthing, “Hurry.” There was no hurrying the master secretary, so I didn’t bother to try.
“Well…I suppose you must go to His Grace,” he said.
That’s big of you.
“Report back to me the instant you’re done.”
I’ll think about it.
“Yes, sir,” I said, waving Iris over. “Here take Horc and these bags back to our room.”
“What’s in—”
I cut her off with a stern look and she buttoned up her lip.
“I’ll go to the cardinal and then you can tell me what you did today,” I said.
Iris nodded and her curls went crazy. She put Horc on her now bony hip and groaned as I shifted the heavy traveling bags to her shoulder. The master secretary eyed the bulging canvas and Iris’s eyes went wide.
I leaned in and whispered, “Go quickly.”
Iris took off and immediately dropped two feet below the font. She bobbed and weaved up the side aisle, looking like she’d gotten into the elderberry wine Mom used to make. The master secretary watched her go and his look of confusion turned to suspicion. “What’s in those bags?”
“Food for my family,”
“That’s a lot of food.”
“We were out. I got plenty of turnips for a good price.” I grinned as he sneered. The master secretary hated turnips because they were cheap and therefore only the lower class fairies ate them. He wouldn’t be investigating my turnips anytime soon.
“Well, flutter to it,” he said.
I took off without a backward glance, rolling my tense shoulders and happy to not be carrying anything over the wide nave for once.
It was a banner day for the cathedral. Being so close to Christmas, the faithful and the tourists were coming in droves to see the great lady in all her medieval splendor. The interior wasn’t decorated though. How do you decorate something already so glorious? The humans didn’t try, but there was a huge Christmas tree and decorations being put up outside.
Hordes of humans were coming down the center nave, their heads swiveling so as to not miss a thing. But they were missing the most amazing thing going on in the cathedral at that moment. Our dragons were flying around over their heads, spinning and diving in elegant loop de loops. Percy and Penelope were the only dragons allowed inside St. Stephen's or on the Stephansplatz. The cardinal had decided that since they were my pets they could come in, if they behaved themselves. Moroccan spice dragons must be the only species without the nasty streak. Percy and Penelope had never done anything gross. Their biggest failing was thieving at Vienna’s Naschmarkt and pestering the humans, not peeing on them. Penelope, in particular, loved dive bombing. I watched her fly up to the highest point over the nave and then drop like a purple rock, snapping out her wide wings at the last second to whiz by the humans. She ruffled their hair with the wind she kicked up and grazed their cheeks with a wingtip before cackling and going up to do it again. Percy, meanwhile, was hovering over an older man’s head and plucking at the toupee he had precariously perched on his bald dome. It never stopped amazing me what the humans refused to see. The man kept looking up and ramming his hair back on his head, not for a second seeing Percy, who was a good-sized dragon, flapping above him.
It must’ve been a good day at the Naschmarkt. I hadn’t seen them this happy since they discovered the olive seller’s open barrels. I waved to Percy as he put the man’s toupee on his wife’s head. I was still giggling when I got to the cardinal’s door. I stifled the last of my laughter and knocked, waited and then cautiously opened the door, since I couldn’t hear the answer, if there was one.
The cardinal was in his chair, looking worse than he had the day before. His usually plump skin was loose and sallow and he smiled weakly and barely managed to raise a hand to wave me in.
“Ah, Mattie, I wondered when I’d be getting a visit from the loveliest girl in Vienna.”
I rushed in, completely forgetting about my letter. “What happened, Your Grace? You’re much worse.” I could feel how drained he was, how tired, and weak. I d
idn’t think. I took his pulse while resting my cheek on his forehead. No fever, but his pulse was weak and thready.
When I pulled back, his eyes were alight with interest. I wasn’t supposed to do that. I was a lowly maid.
“What is your opinion, Mattie?” he asked.
“I have no opinion. Maids don’t have opinions, I don’t think,” I stuttered.
“Maids have plenty of opinions. My mother was a maid in a great household and she had many. What’s yours?”
“I have none…yet. How have you been today?” I asked.
“Have I been ill? Yes. I was very well this morning, but I had many meetings at the palace and by the time I’d come back, I was very ill indeed. I hear you were at the palace today.” He managed to raise an eyebrow at me, but I didn’t take the bait.
“Has Healer Bauer seen you? What did he say?”
“I have the fickle flu, so he says. It’s worse because of my failing liver.”
That could be. But…
“What have you been given?” I asked, not wanting to overdo anything the healer had done.
The cardinal raised a weak finger and pointed at the tray table. “Ginger tea for the nausea and vomiting. White rice for the diarrhea.”
“What about the liver?”
“Beet juice,” He made a face. “And plenty of garlic and onions to detoxify.”
That sounded right for a simple liver problem. I stepped back and Ibn’s book bounced against my hip. I longed to take it out and look through for what he would’ve done.
“Does that sound right to you?” asked the cardinal, slyly.
I sighed. I’d lost the energy to fake it. “Yes, but I’m concerned about your other symptoms.” I didn’t like his color or the sweating. I went the table and saw that he’d barely touched the healer’s remedies. I looked back at the cardinal and he tipped his chin down like a child that’s been caught at something.
“I didn’t want it,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “Well, it won’t work if you don’t take the cure.”
I picked up the teacup and discretely tipped my pinky in it. The ginger tea bubbled and let off its noxious steam.
The cardinal took it from me. “It’s very strong.”
“Strong is what you need.” I did the same to the beet juice. Hopefully, he wouldn’t want the beet juice until it cooled. He was definitely going to notice if his cold beet juice suddenly got hot when I showed up.
He sipped the tea, making a myriad of faces.
“Just get it down,” I said. “You won’t taste it as much.”
The cardinal downed the cup and shivered. “Horrible stuff.”
“But effective.” I gave him the rice, onions, and garlic, and insisted he eat the whole plate.
“My healer never talks to me like this,” he said after his last bite.
“I’m sorry for it. Clearly, His Grace, needs a firm hand,” I said without thinking. What was wrong with me? It felt so good to be working at being what I was, instead of what I was trying to pretend to be that my tongue kept getting away from me.
Instead of scolding me, the cardinal laughed and I noticed how he’d pinked up and wiped his chin with a steady hand. “My mother would agree with you. She always said I was her troublesome troll. Always in trouble and getting ideas above myself.”
I touched his simple but elegant cardinal’s robe. “I guess it worked out in the end.”
He laughed again. “She couldn’t have been more surprised. Now that you’ve forced me to behave, let’s talk about the palace.”
“I have a letter for you.” I pulled out the somewhat wrinkled envelope and placed it in his wide lap.
“From Casper himself. You’re highly thought of.”
I stayed silent, suddenly getting nervous about what was in that letter.
The cardinal read solemnly. “So you have revealed yourself.”
“I have revealed nothing, Your Grace,” I said.
“The palace knows you’re a healer, Mattie. They won’t forget it.”
My chest hurt. I’d been hiding what I am for so long, my heart was pounding from the release. “Why do you think the palace cares so much?”
“That is not for me to say, but I can protect you, if you wish.”
“Why would I need protection?”
“I have always assumed you’re hiding in my household for a reason. The palace is public. You will be noticed and secrets don’t last long,” he said.
“I’ve heard rumors that there’s a French delegation coming. Is it true? Do you know who it is?”
“I’m not of the palace. My power is entirely separate. Such a delegation interests you?”
“I’m just curious.”
The cardinal waved the letter. “Your presence is requested. As I said, I can shield you. Do you want me to?”
I hadn’t thought that would be a possibility. Now I’d signed that contract. It was done. Besides, whoever was in that carriage was important. I was so curious I could hardly stand it, but if I was exposed, Iris and the others wouldn’t be far behind. I’d have to keep my head down and it wouldn’t be easy.
“No,” I said rather reluctantly. “I’ve agreed to serve the emperor. I gave him my word.”
And my real name.
I sat on the stool at the cardinal’s feet. “It’ll be okay. The palace is huge. There’s no reason that anyone should notice a new maid coming and going.”
“I fear that is not true, but I will answer the palace and tell them of my compliance with their wishes.” The cardinal looked to the side of me. “Come in, Killian.”
Killian?
The master secretary came in carrying an armful of scrolls. The pleasant expression he had when walking through the door dropped off his lips the second he saw me. “Why are you still troubling His Grace? Haven’t you work to do?”
Before I could respond, the cardinal raised a hand, “The burdens are not all yours. Let your worry subside, my friend.”
Burdens? Worries?
“As you wish.” The master secretary tried to force a smile onto his face, but it turned out more like a grimace.
The cardinal laughed. “Perhaps this will ease your mind. Mattie has persuaded me to take the remedies that Healer Bauer left and I’m much recovered from the palace visit.”
The master secretary went over and looked at the empty dishes as if he didn’t believe it. “What did the maid say that Healer Bauer didn’t?”
“She has spirit that the good healer lacks.” He folded up my letter and tucked it into his pocket. I stared at that pocket. I didn’t know what the letter said, but if it revealed my healing abilities and the master secretary saw it… I trusted the cardinal with every feather on my wings, the master secretary was another story entirely. The cardinal saw my expression and reached out to me. “You two are so much alike.”
Both the master secretary and I protested, which only made His Grace laugh. “You will never see it, I know. But both of you are so capable, you don’t know you’re own strength.”
The master secretary eyed me and I sniffed in derision. “I don’t see it.”
“As I said, you see the negatives in each other, not the positives,” said the cardinal. “Now off with you. I imagine you have a little sister with much to share.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” I hesitated. “What did you want to see Iris about?”
“Let her tell you and send her to me tomorrow morning first thing after she’s done her schoolwork. You are free to attend your duties at the palace at noon.”
The master secretary’s eyes darted between us and settled on me. He wasn’t as stern as before, mainly inquiring, but I had no answers to give him, at least none that I was allowed to give.
Chapter Thirteen
IRIS WAS WAITING for me, hovering beside Anton Pilgram’s nose. “Mattie, how is the cardinal?’
The question seemed odd after her earlier antics. Iris’s face was mostly calm with just a little twitching around the edges. H
er wings were flapping in a slow rhythm, but her left foot jiggled like she’d gotten into a tourist’s latte.
“That’s what you want to say to me?” I asked.
Her eyes darted to the right and then settled back on me. I caught sight of Rickard’s wing before he darted up to be concealed by the spiral staircase. That little eavesdropping sneak. I swallowed the urge to follow and tell him off, which wouldn’t do any good and only get me in trouble with the master secretary. But I longed to give him a taste of my fire. He wouldn’t soon forget that spying on people isn’t the thing to do, if you want to keep your wings intact.
I fluttered over to Iris as if nothing interesting could possibly be going on and mouthed, “What?”
“Follow me,” she whispered.
“Alright,” I said loudly. “But just a quick lunch. I have to go on troll patrol.”
Iris nodded and I followed her across the nave toward Friedrich’s tomb. We circled it and darted down low, weaving between tourists legs. We went down the entire length of the nave, which gave me time to think up what I was going to say to Iris about my new position. The contract said I couldn’t tell anyone the truth and that included Iris. She wouldn’t buy my lies easily. My sister knew me too well for that.
We arrived at the Maria Pócs altar. I expected Iris to fly past the stone barricade and alight in front of the painting. It was her favorite spot in the cathedral. She said it was peaceful, but I suspected she was waiting for Maria to give her a miracle and weep once again.
Iris surprised me when she didn’t go to the altar, but instead flew around the back of the supplicatory candle racks where a few faithful humans were lighting candles for loved ones.
“Iris, come on. Enough. Tell me. I’ve got things to do,” I whispered, knowing my sister’s tremendous ears would pick up my words clear as if I were shouting them.
She made a sharp turn and hovered. “I knew if we were strong and kept hoping, it would happen.”
I felt the color drain out of my cheeks. I was afraid to ask. What if the answer wasn’t what I thought? The letdown would drive me down to the checked floor and I might not be able to rise again. Iris’s face held nothing but joy. It couldn’t be bad.
Wicked Chill (Away From Whipplethorn Book Four) Page 12
