“Do you even remember who I am?” I asked.
He looked at me again or, more accurately, he looked at my clothes. They were blood-splattered, but under all the gore the fabric identified me as the cardinal’s maid.
“I don’t care who you are.”
I leaned over and in a low voice said, “I met you earlier with Nanny.”
His jaw tightened. “You will keep your promised silence.” He looked at Lysander. “Leave Kapellmeister.”
An anubis help Lysander to his unsteady feet. “Yes, sir.”
But before he could walk off the balcony, Percy snatched him up and flew away.
“Is that dragon yours?” asked the emperor.
“Sort of.” I lifted the hem of the empress’s silk dress to check her legs.
The emperor grabbed my hand painfully. “Don’t do that. It’s unseemly.”
“I have to examine her.”
He glanced around. “Not here.”
“Do you want her to die?” I asked.
He hesitated. The woman’s son actually hesitated. “No, of course not. But this is the empress. She cannot be seen like this in public.”
“It’s a little late for that.” I waved at the crowd gathering around the balcony. The opera goers finally got off their spoiled rumps and came over to get a look at the carnage. Quite a few were pointing at the empress or maybe they were pointing at the head in her lap. I couldn’t tell.
One of the anubis came over and glared at me. Well, I think he was glaring it was kind of hard to tell with the whole dog head thing. “They’re saying that she and the kapellmeister let the dragon in. They may have incited the rioters.”
“If you think that was a riot, you’ve never seen one before,” I said.
“Did you let the dragon in?” asked the emperor.
“Nobody lets dragons do anything or don’t you know dragons?”
He sighed and rubbed his forehead, leaving a smear of his mother’s blood behind. “Dragons are unruly. Paris has proved that.” He looked at me. “The dragons are on the rebel’s side.”
“I know, but Percy isn’t. The only side he knows is mine,” I said.
“What about the kapellmeister?” asked the anubis.
The emperor stared down at his mother. “What about him?”
“He’s one of them.”
I frowned. “One of what?”
The emperor shooed the anubis away. “Leave us.” The anubis stepped a discreet distance away. I wasn’t sure how good their hearing was, but the emperor didn’t lower his voice. “How is she?”
“I haven’t been allowed to examine her fully.”
The emperor yelled something in the anubis’s language and they quickly formed a wall around us.
“Do it,” he said to me.
It only took a few minutes to discover that the empress had multiple broken bones, probably from being stepped on. She shouldn’t have been so fragile. There was blood soaking into her underskirt from cuts on her legs and I stopped that easily enough. When I checked her eyes, which were clear and dilated correctly, she began to rouse.
“Maxy.” The empress reached out weakly and her hand brushed the head in her lap.
The emperor gasped and grabbed her hand. “Take that away, Mattie.”
I picked up the head, which I have to admit was a lot harder to do when no one was trying to cut off my head, and I put it to the side where the empress wouldn’t see it. Of course her lap was soaked with red blood that obviously wasn’t hers and she might notice that, but I couldn’t do anything about it.
“Well?” asked the emperor.
“She has several broken bones. That’s not normal. What does she have?” I asked.
The emperor glanced up at the anubis. Right. No one could know there was anything wrong with the empress, not even her guards. It seemed so ridiculous to pretend when the whole country knew she was ill, but I was starting to get the idea that royalty did a whole lot of pretending.
“We were just attacked,” he said.
“Yes,” I replied. “You’re quite right.” My eyes said it wasn’t right at all, but he gave me a warning look.
“We will take her back to the palace now,” he said. “Healer Gruber will look after Her Majesty.” His eyes asked me if that was the right decision. How should I know? I was barely allowed to look at her legs. The empress was terribly ill and I had no idea what it was. Healer Gruber could be the right fairy for her. But if that were true, why had Nanny come looking for me?
I waved him close. “I will make a rejuvenation spell for her and bring it tomorrow. Tell Healer Gruber. I stopped the blood flow and the healer should be mindful of that spell. It’s a powerful one. The bones need to be knitted. Can your healer do that?”
The emperor pulled back and nodded.
“Maxy, who is this maid?” asked the empress, now awake and giving me a critical once over.
“She’s a maid who came to our defense, Your Majesty.”
“Really and she’s in the cardinal’s service?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You must speak to him.”
“I will, ma’am. Please rest. We need to get you to Healer Gruber,” he said.
“A pointless endeavor.” She closed her eyes.
The emperor indicated that I should leave and I rose slowly. My ankle pained me as it hadn’t in months. Maybe it was taking Bentha’s illness into myself or maybe it was the action. I hadn’t been in a fight since Paris. I’d missed it, but my ankle hadn’t.
The emperor stood quickly and ordered a stretcher for his mother. One of the anubis fairies ran out the back door and another turned to say, “What about the kapellmeister, ma’am? The dragon has him. They could escape easily.”
“You really suspect him?” asked the emperor.
“I have to, given the facts.”
“What facts?” I asked. “Lysander was with me the whole time. He didn’t do anything. The only fact is that he told me that the empress was screaming.”
The emperor and I looked at each other. I so wanted to say that Lysander was the reason I was there to treat the empress in the first place, but I stayed quiet. Concealing the empress’s condition was the most important thing to her son. I didn’t agree with it, but I couldn’t afford to lose my place with him. Bentha was going to need a lot of remedies and they cost.
“Let him go, Senb,” said the emperor. “He is in our service and has done his duty well.”
“He has done well concealing his nature. It won’t last.”
My palm’s prickled. It was the way Senb said ‘his nature’ as if Lysander’s nature was dirty and filled with gunk. “His nature? I question yours. How dare you imply—”
A furious gust of wind kicked up and blew me against the wall. Percy had come level with the balcony and his tail snaked out, coiling around my waist. He dragged me toward the railing, saving me from doing something Senb would regret. I glared at the emperor, still enraged by the accusations.
He looked straight at me. “Let the kapellmeister go. I believe him loyal.”
I bumped into the railing.
“But Your Majesty,” protested Senb.
The emperor flitted his hand at the guard, dismissing him. I nodded and Percy pulled me over the railing into the open air. Lysander was still in Percy’s talon, but wide awake and struggling. I guess he didn’t know that struggling against a dragon is pretty pointless. Once you’re in their talons, it’s over.
Percy flapped and made a wide turn, circling the aisle below. I thought the balcony was madness, but the area below was worse. There were dead guards and protesters laying on the plush red carpeting. Opera patrons had landed and were trying to help the wounded. The body of the headless brown wing lay crumpled next to the bodies of two guards. An ashray wept over it, kneeling in an ever-widening pool of shimmering water.
“Percy let me go!” I yelled. “There are survivors!”
He gave a shake of his tail that rattled my teeth, dropped down, and flew out t
oward the exit. There were a few humans milling around the door. Instead of going up to the fairy exit, Percy glided lower until he was nearly skimming the carpet. I was going to ask what in the world was he doing, but I saw what he saw before I had the chance. There were bodies on the carpet. One of the humans came within an inch of stepping on one. Ferdzik was sprawled directly under his post like he’d fallen off the shelf. My first instinct was to help him, but then I saw his neck was at an odd angle and his skin had a yellow tint.
“Percy, get closer!” I yelled.
The dragon banked right and we circled, so I could get a good look. I kind of wished I had told him to go out the door and fly away as fast as he could. But I didn’t and I saw Ferdzik’s neck. There were long gashes extending from his ear down to his chest. We flew by fast and I only got a quick glimpse, but I think they were smoking and there was a smell, too. It was familiar, vile and ugly. I’d smelled that on myself, my ankle. That was horen venom.
“Percy, let me go!”
He shot fire plumes out of his nose and ignored me. He did start to circle again, but he wasn’t fast enough. A cadre of anubis ran up and covered the bodies with sheets. They looked up with their small black eyes, unreadable as ever, and watched us.
“They’re covering it up,” I said. “Literally.”
Lysander wrenched himself around in Percy’s talon. “What did you say?”
I shook my head. “Nothing! Take us home, Percy!”
The dragon flew up the wall, arced up high so that his wingtip brushed the ceiling, and then darted out the door when a human opened it. We went down the long stairs in a blur. The wind froze my ears and I yanked my hood up. The night was clear and crisp. It should’ve smelled clean the way only winter can, but I still had the smell of horen venom in my nose. A horen in Vienna. I surprised myself by not being surprised. It had to happen sometime. It didn’t necessarily mean they knew I was here. Maybe it was just a coincidence. The horen liked to spread misery and discord wherever they went. It could be that they were trying to spread the revolution in France to Austria. The empress had closed the borders. It could be that the horen were what she wanted kept out. That hadn’t worked so well. It looked like the horen had let the protesters in. If they were trying to stir something up, that would do it. Civilian protesters killed by the imperial guard at the state opera. The public was already unhappy with the imperial response to the events in France. Then I got it. The emperor knew all that. Neighboring France was unstable. What would it take for a revolution to happen in Austria? They had a popular empress and an unpopular heir. If the Austrian fairies knew how sick she really was, it could change everything.
Percy banked hard and flew into the Stephansplatz. The cathedral was lit dimly. The great windows glowed in the winter night. Next to it, a Christmas tree twinkled and humans in heavy coats walked by toward the Christmas market. Scores of humans stood out in the cold, drinking from thick mugs. We passed between the market and tree, and Percy made a graceful turn around to the front of St. Stephen’s. The cathedral was usually pretty quiet at night. If it hadn’t been for the Christmas market, the platz would’ve been almost empty, but that night there weren’t only humans out and about. We flew past a small gathering of fairies in front of the cathedral. They stood on the ground in a large circle, huddled in cloaks, so that I couldn’t see any faces. An odd place to meet when the cathedral, while not all that warm, was only a few wingbeats away. Then I noticed exactly where they were, under the 05 carved into the stone. It was the symbol for the Austrian resistance during the humans’ last big war. That’s what the fives on the protestors signs must’ve meant. Not a good sign, since we weren’t at war. Not yet anyway.
Percy didn’t slow down. He passed them, banked to the right, and darted in through the fairy door that was just big enough to fit him with his wings tucked. For once, fifty degrees felt warm as we glided into the nave. Percy’s sides belled out and he let out a rumbling bellow. Lysander looked back at me and I shrugged.
Percy turned and flapped back up to the organ pipes, hovering over the wooden shelf. He dropped Lysander without ceremony and then set me down a good three feet away, gently as if I were a rare orchid. Lysander got to his feet, rubbed his head, and started walking toward me. Percy spouted fire at him and landed heavily between us.
“Ah, come on, Percy,” I said. “I need to examine his head.”
He hissed and then let out a bunch of squawks aimed at the nave below us. Then I saw Penelope racing down the center aisle with Iris, Gerald, and Miss Penrose behind her. They came up fast and landed so hard they nearly ran into the pipes.
“Where have you been?” asked Iris, huffing and puffing.
“Didn’t Penelope tell you?” I asked.
“She doesn’t talk,” said Gerald and I instantly felt bad. I hated that. Instant guilt. He looked like he’d been crying the whole time I’d been gone. A girl couldn’t go anywhere.
“I know you understand her somehow, Iris,” I said.
My sister sniffed. “I think she wanted me to know you were safe.”
“But you weren’t,” said Miss Penrose.
“Sure I was,” I said.
“You’re covered in blood.”
“Oh, that. You see there was this little protest at the opera and I—”
“You revealed yourself, didn’t you?” Miss Penrose interrupted. “Matilda Grace Whipplethorn, what did you do?”
Lysander came squeezing between Percy’s scaly side and the pipes. “Who’s Matilda?”
Chapter Eighteen
IRIS CLAPPED BOTH her hands over her mouth, Gerald shook, and Miss Penrose went at Lysander waving her hands. “No. No. I didn’t say Matilda. I said Mattie.”
Lysander glanced at me and I found I couldn’t move. In a strange way, I was happy to hear my name and to have him know it. On the other hand, it would be bad if he repeated it with a horen in town.
When I didn’t say anything, Lysander looked back at Miss Penrose. “I heard what you said. You called her Matilda and said she’d revealed herself.”
“You’re mistaken.” She held out her fine, slim hand. “I’m Penny. Mattie’s aunt.”
He took her hand in his and looked at it. Miss Penrose squirmed, but he didn’t let go. “Penny what?”
“Van Winkle.”
“I’m supposed to believe you’re all related.”
“Yes,” I said, finally finding my voice. “This is my sister, Iris, and my brother, Gerald.”
“And they’re adopted, too?” he asked.
“What?”
“Like your spriggan brother, Horc.”
“Oh, right. Horc. No, we’re just regular.”
Lysander shook his head. “You’re regular? I don’t think so. The way you charged over to the empress when I said she was screaming tells me you are anything but regular. Nobody else went to help. They let the guards handle it.”
“A spanking job they did,” I said.
“There it is again.”
“What?”
“You not being regular,” he said, stepping forward and looking at us in turn. “You look nothing alike. The wings are all different, eye color, bone structure. Nothing matches.” He zoomed in on Miss Penrose. “You’re especially different. Your skin, your hands.”
Miss Penrose wrapped her wings around her like a cloak, but they couldn’t conceal her aristocratic face. I stepped in front of her. “She’s my aunt and you’re my friend. Let’s leave it at that.”
Lysander blushed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t question you. You haven’t questioned me and I heard what you said to the emperor. I’m sure I would’ve been arrested, if you hadn’t interfered.”
I turned to Iris. “Have you had dinner?”
She nodded, looking past me at Lysander’s horns.
“Well, I haven’t. Can you fix something for me while I say goodbye?”
They took the hint and flitted off the shelf. Percy stayed. He’d gotten comfortable with his long snout on the
shelf.
“You, too,” I said to the dragon.
He belched some black smoke that smelled suspiciously like klitzeklein trolls, but otherwise didn’t move.
Lysander smiled. “It’s okay. I’m kind of used to him.”
“That makes one of us.”
Percy belched again and a huge black cloud billowed over us. I flapped my wings and it went away, leaving the lingering scent of troll behind.
“Well,” I said, “thanks for the opera.”
“It was a memorable first date. I’ll say that for it.” He took my hand, ignoring the fiery snort from Percy.
“So it was a date.”
“When you come home blood-splattered, it’s a date.”
We laughed and moved in closer. Percy’s tongue flopped out on the shelf and inched over to Lysander’s heels.
“No!” I gave Percy the stink eye and the tongue stopped, but only for a second. Then it scooted around Lysander’s ankles, thick and slobbery.
“I think he’s trying to tell me something,” said Lysander.
“I wonder what it could be.” I grinned.
“Let’s go with that he thinks we should have another night out.”
Percy snorted huge plumes of flame that went up to the height of the pipes in twisting spirals.
“That’s it,” I said.
Lysander put my hand against his cheek. “If you were a tourist, I’d take you to have Sachertorte.”
“What’s a Sachertorte?”
His high brow wrinkled, making the diamond pattern all funky. “I thought you’d been in Vienna for some time.”
“I have, but I don’t get out much.”
“We have to change that.”
I almost started thinking about all the reasons I couldn’t. Bentha. The horen. But I stopped. No. I could go. I could do it all with time to spare. There was no evidence that the horen knew I was in Vienna. None at all.
“So what’s a Sachertorte?”
“Only the best cake in the world,” he said.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
He moved in closer until our noses touched, easy since we were the same height. Percy’s tongue wrapped around Lysander’s legs, but he paid it no mind. His head tilted and I closed my eyes. A kiss. I was so ready. Thoughts of Daiki flitted through my mind, causing the pain in my chest to get worse. Lysander wasn’t Daiki. He couldn’t be more different, but he liked me, just me. It wasn’t about anything I could do. In Vienna, I was a maid of all work. If he liked me like that, well, a kiss was definitely in order.
Wicked Chill (Away From Whipplethorn Book Four) Page 18
