Like a mouth with fangs . . .
Pushing the thought from her mind, she tiptoed beneath the dripping icicles and stepped into the palace. Countless rooms surrounded her, silent except for the drip-drop of melting ice. She had no idea where to start—the bubbles in the ice made everything a big blur.
I suppose I’ll just have to explore, she thought, wishing all the more that Blue and Hope were there with her. They would know exactly where to go.
Moving slowly through the castle, a numbing cold, spread through her limbs. The rooms had a deserted air to them, as if once they had been full of life but not for a very, very long time. She walked through a kitchen with rusty faucets and cracked, copper pots hanging from icy hooks into a magnificent room with a high ceiling and hundreds of books adorning the walls. Picking up one of the books, she grimaced as it fell apart in her hands—its pages soggy and the words washed away.
She walked through an archway into a circular lobby, in front of which was a curved staircase. Meylyne licked her lips. She knew she would find Queen Emery in one of the rooms upstairs. She tiptoed across the lobby and grasped the banister. The steps looked as slippery as fish oil. Invisible or not, if she fell down them the game would most certainly be up.
Biting her lip, she gingerly placed her foot on the first step.
Just take your time, she told herself. One by one, she climbed the steps, placing each foot squarely in the middle. After an eternity of climbing, she found herself at the top of the stairs. A long, narrow hallway lined with doors stretched ahead of her. By now her legs felt like two wooden planks. Forcing them to move, she peeped into every room. Each one was completely empty—nowhere to hide a purse of dust.
She rounded the corner and stopped. The room to her right was bigger than the rest, its door ajar. Holding her breath, she peeped through the frosty door. There was a big red mound in the middle of the room. Icy sweat trickled down her back and face as she pushed the door open.
The room was bare aside from a white animal pelt on the floor and a bed in the middle. On the bed, a lady in a long red dress lay sleeping, her back to her. She muttered something and Meylyne froze, barely breathing. Five agonizingly long minutes passed and the figure lay still.
Meylyne moved inside. She was almost to the bed when the lady jerked up, so suddenly she might have been a puppet on a string. Meylyne froze.
Don’t move, she told herself, her heart hammering in her chest. She can’t see you.
Meylyne still could not see the lady’s face. Her hair was covered by a white scarf. As she slowly turned around, she lifted her hand. Too late, Meylyne realized she held a wand. A sizzle in the air and Meylyne could not move her arms or legs. It was as if they’d turned to clay. Then her feet felt like tiny bubbles were popping inside them. Looking down, a bolt of horror shot through her. Her feet were materializing! The bubbles spread up through her legs, her stomach, her arms and finally her head. She stood there, exposed and helpless but as she stared at the lady staring back at her, she felt more shock than fear.
When Meylyne finally found her voice, she uttered one word.
19
Shadows and Lies
“MOTHER?!”
The lady sitting on the bed, who was in fact her mother, looked almost as surprised as she did. An uncharacteristic smile spread across her face. She flicked her hand and Meylyne found she could move again.
“Meylyne! I must say I’m impressed. I never thought you’d make it this far! Sit down,” she added, patting the bed next to her. “There’s no need to look so alarmed.”
“No need to look so alarmed?” Meylyne echoed. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d been imprisoned in the Shadow Cellars!”
“I said sit.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop a notch. Meylyne plopped onto the cold, hard slab of ice while her mother continued to smile as if meeting like this was the most natural thing in the world.
“Actually, fetch that rug,” her mother ordered, nodding at the pelt on the floor.
Meylyne slid off the bed and handed the pelt to her. As her mother stood up, the scarf fell off and her long black hair cascaded over her fur-lined, scarlet dress—the only splash of color in the room. This was the first time Meylyne had ever seen her mother with her hair down. She watched as her mother placed the pelt on the bed, and then sat back down.
“There. Now sit.”
Meylyne sat down on top of the rug. Her mother’s eyes bore into her like flint.
“So you know about the Shadow Cellars.” Her mother held out her hand. “I’d like my crystal back please.”
Like one in a trance, Meylyne took her mother’s diamond from her rucksack and handed it to her. Her mother placed the diamond on the bed next to her. Never once did the smile leave her face.
“I was not in the Shadow Cellars for long,” she answered smoothly. “Groq bargained with Queen Emery on that score. He reminded her that I was the one person that could find her son’s cure—and you of course. It was quite inconvenient for you to disappear like that.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop even further, if that was possible. Meylyne struggled to respond. Her brain felt full of fog.
“The Wise Well told me to go to the Valley of Half-Light for Piam’s cure. I thought it’d be better for me to go than you!”
Her mother lifted an eyebrow.
“And did you go to the Valley of Half-Light?”
“Yes, well, not at first because we went the wrong way.” The words started tumbling out, spilling over one another. “But then we found out that the Thorn Queen poisoned the Great Oaken Mother and because of that sphers were escaping into Glendoch! So Grimorex told us about an eagle whose feathers were supposed to have the power to heal the Great Oaken Mother, only they turned to ash . . . and the Thorn Queen took them and came here!”
“Grimorex—as in the ogre?” her mother asked sharply.
Meylyne nodded. “Do you know him?”
Meylyne’s mother tapped her fingernails against the side of the bed.
“I know of him.”
Meylyne stared at her mother, waiting for her to say more. The silence stretched on.
“Mother, what are you doing here?” Meylyne implored. “Please tell me! We thought the Thorn Queen was Queen Emery, but now here you are.”
Standing up, her mother glided to the window and peered outside.
“I came here for the same reason as you—the feather that would cure Prince Piam.”
Meylyne frowned. Her mother wasn’t telling the whole story. “And?”
“What do you mean, and? That’s it—that’s why I’m here!”
“You’re hiding something.”
Turning around, Meylyne’s mother shot a startled look at her. Then she laughed.
“Meylyne, I’m always hiding something. You’ve just noticed for the first time. This journey has changed you!”
An uneasy feeling grew inside Meylyne as her mother held her gaze. Her eyes looked different—darker somehow.
“You—you aren’t the Thorn Queen, are you?” Meylyne whispered.
“Thorn Queen, Rose Queen—it’s all the same to me.”
At first Meylyne just stared, uncomprehending at her mother. Then her eyes widened as the truth dawned upon her.
The missing Rose princess.
“No, it’s not possible,” she whispered. “You are Queen Amber of Rose?”
Her mother smoothed out an imaginary wrinkle on her dress and her eyes darkened a little more.
“Amber,” she sighed. “Always Amber. Fourteen years missing and still in the forefront of everyone’s mind while I remain obscured by shadows and lies.”
Meylyne’s mother returned to the bed. An icicle above dripped a single drop of water between them. Her mother wiped it away.
“No, Meylyne, I am not Amber—” her mother spat the name as if a cockroach had landed in her mouth—“I am the the Rose’s firstborn daughter—the one that everyone was so eager
to forget.”
“What are you talking about? The Rose’s first baby died at birth.”
Her mother chuckled without mirth.
“Such a convenient lie. I did not die at birth. I was kidnapped by the Snake People, as all the royals know! And my parents, on their dear sage, Chifflin’s recommendation, refused to pay their ransom. Apparently the price demanded was too high.”
Her mother patted Meylyne’s hand as Meylyne stared at her in horror.
“Oh it wasn’t so bad. After all, I had nothing to which to compare the Beneath-World. And the Snake People are far more intelligent than anyone thinks. They taught me all of Glendoch’s history.”
She stretched her arms above her head.
“And never once did they let me forget my parents’ betrayal.”
On the mantelpiece, a white spider spun its web. Round and round it went, its silken thread shimmering against the ice. Meylyne watched it, unseeing, as she tried to absorb everything her mother said.
“But, you always said you were a Cabbage-Windian—sold to the Garlysles by your grandmother—”
“. . . for a black opal,” her mother finished. “Yes dear, I know the story—I made it up, remember?”
“But why not just tell the truth? Once you escaped from the Snake People, you could have just gone to the Above-World and told Queen Emery who you were!”
“Oh I did not escape from the Snake People. They were all the family I knew. No, your father got me out. I was traded like a prized gem at a fair. In return I had to live with him in the Between-World.”
Meylyne’s mother took Meylyne’s hands and held her gaze.
“Make no mistake. Your father was a very clever garlysle. It is a pity he had to . . . disappear.”
All around Meylyne, the ice patterns in the walls swirled and dripped, making her mind even cloudier than it already was.
“Disappear. He hasn’t disappeared. He’s been terrorizing Glendoch for as long as I can remember!”
A smile played upon her mother’s face. “Really? Has he ever been caught?”
At this, Meylyne’s head began to throb and she got up off the bed. She needed to think. On the mantelpiece, the spider continued to weave her web, going round and round. As Meylyne approached, she crouched still.
“Don’t go near that spider, she’s frightfully poisonous. One bite and your heart will freeze,” her mother warned.
Meylyne moved away, her mind spinning. If what mother says is true, then I am a Rose Princess! She remembered the stories of the Roses once being powerful alchemists.
“I thought the Roses’ alchemy had died out,” she said.
“It almost had. But the Beneath-World is still steeped in sorcery, albeit the dark sort. My powers reawakened there—not completely by any means. But then you were born fully gifted—that was obvious from quite a young age.”
Meylyne stared at her mother. “Me? Please! I could never get any of my incantations right. I was the opposite of gifted. You were the powerful one!”
Her mother shook her head. “Not without this.” She held up her wand. “And you weren’t the opposite of gifted. You just never had the right tools.”
“I had my Book of Incantations. What other tools was I supposed to have?”
“You didn’t really have your Book of Incantations. Not the authentic one, anyway. I made sure you never got your hands on that one.”
Meylyne stared at her mother. Her Book of Incantations was her source of truth. She had gone through a sacred ritual upon receiving it. It wasn’t possible that the one she’d had her whole life was a fake.
But it makes perfect sense, a voice inside her head whispered. That’s why none of your incantations worked. That snake at the Palace of Lions must have switched it for the right book, not the other way around!
“I see you’ve let your wings grow,” her mother said.
Meylyne ignored this.
“No,” she said firmly. “I don’t believe any of this. You’re my mother! You would never lie to me like that for all those years. If what you say is true, then you’re an Above-Worldian Queen! Meph,” she swallowed, “disappeared ages ago. He had no hold over you. Why not just go above ground and tell everyone the truth?”
As Meylyne waited for her to answer she saw something clawing behind her mother’s eyes as though trying to get out.
“I’m afraid I’m not that interested in the truth any more. What I want is far simpler—revenge.”
Meylyne jumped as her mother spat out the word. She did not recognize her any more. Her coldness and reserve had been replaced by fire.
It’s just like Grimorex said—the wand has possessed her.
In its corner, the spider continued to spin its web. Meylyne glanced at it and for the first time she noticed something behind the web—a small crimson sack.
The feather dust! I bet it’s in there!
Meylyne thought fast. She could stun the spider and grab the sack, but then how would she escape? There was no point in turning herself invisible. The wand could obviously sense her. Besides, she needed the wand too. It was Glendoch’s only hope.
And my mother’s.
As if she could read her mind, her mother raised her wand. Meylyne dove for the floor as a stream of heat flew over her head. The words from her new incantation book came back to her—
In a pinch, rely on your bonds.
Planting her hands on the floor, she focused her attention on the ice around the bed. The ice creaked and groaned, and then shot up forming a cage around her mother.
For a second, her mother looked as shocked as Meylyne felt.
It worked!
She pointed at the ice above the spider and an icicle fell down, stabbing it. Meylyne winced—she hadn’t meant to kill it but there was no time to think about that now. She grabbed the purse from the mantelpiece.
“Put that back,” her mother snarled. The ice around her became a waterfall that rushed at Meylyne, who fell to the floor, flinging up her mirrored hand just as her mother shot another incantation at her. The incantation bounced back at her mother, who became as still as a statue.
Must’ve been another immobilizing charm.
Meylyne knew that the wand was capable of a lot more than that. She wrenched it from her mother at the exact second that her mother un-froze herself. She dashed from the room, aware of a searing heat in her hand and a darkening all around her. Shadows leapt and twisted and her mind clouded with rage.
I can’t let the wand get inside my mind!
She had almost reached the stairs when she slipped on the ice. The wand flew out of her hand and bounced to the bottom of the stairs, shattering the ice around it.
This was the worst mistake she could possibly make. Her mother flew past her with uncanny speed and pounced on her wand. Spinning around, she raised it as Meylyne kicked out her feet in front of her. The floor rippled outward, down the stairs, bursting into a wave of ice. It crashed into her mother, sweeping her backward.
“Stop!” her mother thundered, flinging out her wand in front of her.
The wave stood still. One second later and she would have been trapped between it and the wall behind her.
“I really am impressed Meylyne,” she said, sliding out from behind the frozen wave. “Where did you learn all of this sorcery?”
Then she hissed, pointing her wand at Meylyne and her spittle turned into a shower of crabs. They scuttled up the stairs toward Meylyne, their tiny pincers snapping before them.
Scrambling to her feet, Meylyne ran into one of the rooms, slamming the door behind her. A few moments later, the crabs scuttled up against the ice, their pincers eating their way through. Meylyne backed away from the door and looked around. The room was empty. It had one window without any glass in it. There was nowhere to hide.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Meylyne,” she heard her mother saying, coming closer. “I want you to join me. What is left for you in Glendoch? You will never get back in time. The Great Oaken Mother is
about to fall.”
At the mention of the Great Oaken Mother, Meylyne felt a jolt of fear. Pushing her hand in her pocket she felt frantically for the dust. It wasn’t there. She searched the other pocket.
“Are you looking for this?”
Her mother stood in the doorway, holding the purse. The crabs rushed in around her but with a wave from her wand they all disappeared.
Crouching in the corner, Meylyne fought back tears. She had lost everything.
Think, Meylyne. Just think!
A ray of sunlight splashed through the open window, dividing the space between her and her mother. An idea struck her. She whispered to the sunbeam and it flared up into a stream of bright gold. Shielding her eyes, her mother cried out, temporarily blinded.
Meylyne dashed to the window and climbed up onto the windowsill. It was a dizzying drop to the ground. Flying was her only possible escape but she hadn’t flown since she was little! From behind her, her mother said something and the sunbeam burst into flames with a roar. It was now or never. Meylyne leapt. Her wings unfurled. Careening wildly to the left, terror exploded inside her until something automatic in her muscles took over. Her wings pumped and terror melted to exhilaration as she realized the air was holding her up.
I’m flying—I’m actually flying!
Then a fire-bolt punched her left wing. She screamed in pain and the ground came up to meet her fast. Something streaked toward her from the edge of the forest. She landed on her stomach with a sickening thud, all the breath knocked out of her. Eyes closed, she felt the world move beneath her.
“Hold on!” a familiar voice ordered.
Opening her eyes, she almost cried with relief. She had landed on Hope!
Maneuvering herself around, she grabbed onto his mane, dizzy with pain from her wing. He slowed at the edge of the forest and Blue jumped on too. Meylyne steadied him and they both clung on.
Looking back, Meylyne saw two dark shadows speeding behind them, close to the ground. As they drew nearer Meylyne saw eyes pulsing red and dripping fangs. They looked like some sort of demon ghost-wolves. Then they were upon them, tearing at Hope’s legs as he ran. Drawing his sword, Blue slashed once, then twice. One creature fell away. The other leapt up at Meylyne, sinking its fangs into her arm and she screamed. Blue slashed again and it, too, fell away.
The Thorn Queen Page 14
