Stepping far away from the shadows of the menacing Mind Garden panel, Ivy examined the grand hall. Something marvelous was happening. The tapestries were emerging again—just as they had in the queen’s dining room in Templar—their vivid images spilling forth from the weave into reality. A carpet of green grass nudged its way beneath her feet. Wildflowers tickled her ankles. The tapestries were infusing life back into the dying roots that made up the magical underground castle, saving Underwood from its parched and failing existence. Ivy and Rowan could hardly recognize it.
“Ivy—” Rowan wanted to tell her about the Four Sisters’ Haberdashery, and the mysterious tapestry inside, but the three were distracted by a pair of darting blackbirds flitting between them. The birds alighted upon a branch heavy with ripe pears that sprang from one of the panels. Several grackles now joined the songbirds, chattering. In fact, as they watched, the branch was burdened with dark birds of all sizes: gray jays; ravens; rooks; nuthatches; and small, darting hummingbirds. They overwhelmed the tree, speaking in shrill chirps and all at once. They were utterly agitated and sang of urgent things. Ripe fruit thudded to the ground.
And then, all at once, the birds grew silent.
After a time, the sound of wingbeats filled the air—at first from some distance, and then in a full roar. A wind blew Ivy’s golden hair. Atop the highest branch a final bird alighted—black as coal. He settled in, crowning the tree with his outstretched wings, a few stray woolen strings dangling from his tail. The old crow let forth a caw. It was hoarse and dry, but utterly familiar.
The tree erupted in welcome—drowning out Ivy’s cry.
“Shoo!”
In the din, Rowan looked around. If Shoo was here—where was the beautiful woman in white the crow had perched upon? Shouldn’t she have been released from her woolen prison, too? Yet there was no sign of the sister from the tapestry shop. Just Ivy and Clothilde.
He looked again, carefully. Wait—there was something.
A pool of dark water congealed by the archway—he had somehow overlooked it. Soggy, wet footprints led away, into the thicket of Underwood.
Sorrel Flux eyed the airless underground cavern with disdain as he emerged from the thorn door. He was drenched and dripping, water sloshing from his silk stockings and fine boots. He cared not in the least. This was no place for him—all this noise and birdsong. No, he had an errand of utmost importance.
Flux slipped away behind a cloud of jasmine. He had ink to find.
APPENDIX
(Excerpted from The Field Guide to the Poisons of Caux,
by Axlerod D. Roux—chapter 62, page 746—
“The Secret Language of Flowers.”)
acorn eternal life; inverted: imminent death
arrowroot Beware of danger.
barberry sourness of temper
bryony enclosed
buckbean chamber, room—usually for sleeping
calamint success
caulwort birth, new life; de-thorned: tomb
crimped gill tiredness, fatigue
dog’s mercury deceit
elderberry journey forth
elm dignity
fern sincerity
forkedtongue to decipher
foxglove honesty; inverted: false, insincere
frogbit rivalry
garden marigold May I be of some assistance?
hawthorn hopeless
heartsease restoration
heather clarity; inverted: disguise
hedge mustard hidden
ivy friendship
jasmine wealth at any cost
lady’s slipper resting comfortably; inverted: endangered
larkspur hurt feelings
lavender left
lichen Leave me alone.
lily, orange You’re awful.
maiden heart imprisoned soul
mugwort useful knowledge
oak leaves bravery
parsley protection from illness; virtue
poppy, white sleep
rose, black death
rosebud right
rowan tree prudence, caution
rue disdain
saddle weed, thick-footed uncomfortable
sapbreech enjoyment of hot beverage
shrew’s berry unfinished business
snarewood drat (or worse)
sourbush captive, prisoner
spittlesap to duplicate, copy
stinkhorn in need of bath
sweet pea small
violet modesty, faithfulness
witch hazel protection; inverted: jeopardy
yarrow health, healing
About the Author
Susannah Appelbaum comes from a family of doctors and philosophers, which instilled in her both an early fascination and a great deal of caution with bottles marked “Poison.” She worked in magazine publishing for many years and now lives with her family in New York’s Hudson Valley and in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, where her garden prefers to grow weeds.
Susannah’s first book was The Hollow Bettle, Book I of the Poisons of Caux trilogy. Please visit her on the Web at www.susannahappelbaum.com.
THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2010 by Susannah Appelbaum
Illustrations copyright © 2010 by Jennifer Taylor
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Appelbaum, Susannah.
The Tasters Guild / Susannah Appelbaum; illustrated by Jennifer Taylor. — 1st ed.
p. cm.—
(Poisons of Caux ; bk. 2)
Summary: Eleven-year-old Ivy Manx sets out with her friends for the dangerous city of Rocamadour, where poison and the evil Tasters Guild rule, in the hopes of finding a door to the sisterland of Pimcaux and fulfilling a great and ancient prophecy.
eISBN: 978-0-375-89619-4
[1. Poisons—Fiction. 2. Voyages and travels—Fiction. 3. Kings, queens, rulers, etc.—Fiction. 4. Fantasy.] I. Taylor, Jennifer (Jennifer Ann), ill. II. Title.
PZ7.A6445Tas 2010
[Fic]—dc22
2009028710
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
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