Faerie Lord

Thirty-Three

There was gold carpeting on the floor, velvet drapes on picture windows, a little ante-room for Kitterick. In many ways, it made her personal quarters at the Palace seem positively utilitarian. But, however luxurious, a prison was still a prison.

Madame Cardui dressed carefully. She was far too old for field work, of course, but that was of small account now that field work had become necessary. If dear Alan was right, they all must play their part. Thus she abandoned her usual flowing silks for form-fitting assassin’s black, spell-treated to turn it into body armour. The effect was actually quite fetching: how gratifying to have kept one’s figure. How sad that Alan wasn’t here to see it.

She extinguished all lights, then walked to the window and drew back the curtains. The first glow of dawn had begun to illuminate the horizon far to the south. She stood for a moment, staring at the increasing light.

Poor Blue. Madame Cardui felt not the slightest resentment at her own incarceration. In the circumstances, what else could the child do? Another Emperor might well have ordered her death, or had her tortured until she gave an explanation. Blue had been nothing but patient, generous and thoughtful. She had even specified low security in return for Madame Cardui’s pledge not to attempt an escape. A pity to repay her with another betrayal.

It was such an odd situation to be in. All the old certainties had been turned upside dowrn. She was reminded irresistibly of her stage days as the diverting young assistant to the Great Myphisto. She had been a real beauty then. The audience could scarcely take their eyes off her – especially the men. And while they watched her, Myphisto prepared his sleights of hand. Miracles Without Magic, they had called the show. Not a single spell used… and that was guaranteed.

She dragged her attention back to the present. Focus. She had to focus. There were so many imponderables in the present situation, so much to lose if they got things wrong.

She turned away from the window and flicked a bell-ring on her finger. Kitterick appeared at once. With his usual efficiency he had anticipated her next move and was himself dressed in black, doubtless spell-armoured as well, with a pointed hood that made him look like a demented pixy. He had dyed his skin black as well, which was possibly a step too far, although his natural orange would, admittedly, have been a trifle garish in the morning light.

‘I assumed we would be leaving, Madam,’ Kitterick told her.

‘Your assumption was correct,’ said Madame Cardui.

He waited, patient as ever, for his briefing. Kitterick had been in her service for more years than she cared to remember and still looked much as he had done the day she hired him. How did Trinians manage it? They never seemed to age at all – although they did have something of a reputation for dying suddenly. Would she have bartered sudden death for youthful looks and energy? Such a bargain was hardly open for her now. Not only had she lost her looks – although not her figure, one was forced to admit – but what she was about to do held its own risk of sudden death.

Madame Cardui blinked. Losing Alan had made her morbid. All she could think about was death in one form or another. Such a waste of energy and the ruination of one’s concentration. She must pull herself together.

‘We have no time to lose,’ she told Kitterick.

‘No, Madam,’ Kitterick agreed.

‘It is important that we leave the Palace – and indeed the city – at the earliest opportunity.’

‘Yes, Madam.’

She took a deep breath. ‘But it is equally important that the discovery of our escape be delayed as much as possible.’

‘To give us a greater head start, Madam?’

‘Precisely, Kitterick. To that end, I have instructed our captors that I shall not be requiring breakfast this morning.’

‘Very self-sacrificing, Madam.’

‘They will, of course, attempt to feed us lunch, but by then, if all goes well, I shall be long gone.’

Kitterick missed nothing. ‘You, Madam – not we?’

‘I, Kitterick. I expect you to remain here, confuse our captors and, if necessary, create a diversion.’

‘Of course, Madam.’ He looked at her fondly. ‘Will you be requiring me to murder the guards, Madam?’

‘Nothing so crude, Kitterick,’ said Madame Cardui. Bad enough she had to break her word to the Queen without adding slaughter to her sins. She sighed. ‘You’ll find a doppleganger in my mattress.’

This time Kitterick’s look was one of open admiration. He went to the mattress, extruded a talon to slit it open, then fumbled inside until he drew out a desiccated package about the size of a building brick, ‘I presume this is she, Madam?’

Madam Cardui nodded, ‘It’s freeze-dried, so we only need add water.’

‘After you have gone, Madam?’

‘No, I think we should activate it now – just to be sure. You can use the decanter on the bedside table.’

‘Of course, Madam.’ Kitterick set the brick on top of the counterpane and poured the contents of the decanter over it. There was a slight sizzling sound as the package began to enlarge.

Kitterick moved back sharply when the arms and legs appeared, floppy at first, then uncurling and expanding into three dimensions. After a moment, it was possible to discern a body threshing and writhing. A moment more and a living, breathing replica of Madame Cardui was lying on the bed. Madame Cardui stared down at it. The thing had cost a fortune, but she had to admit the investment had been worth every penny. The resemblance was uncanny, right down to that unfortunate mole on the buttock.

‘How would you prefer her dressed?’ asked Kitterick, not at all phased by the creature’s nudity.

‘A simple nightgown will suffice,’ said Madame Cardui. ‘Then tuck her into bed. When the servants arrive with lunch, tell them I am indisposed – unwell. You might even hint at the possibility of plague.’

‘Queen Blue is likely to order a medical examination,’ Kitterick said.

‘The doppleganger can withstand that, so long as they don’t expect it to speak. All internal organs and systems are faithfully duplicated. With luck, they will assume its silence is due to the illness. They will discover the truth in time, of course, but by then I will be long gone. I shall leave now. Divert them as long as you can, then go to my city quarters. You are not a prisoner, of course, so there will be no difficulty. But I shall expect you to be discreet, make sure you are not followed and so forth.’

‘Of course,’ Kitterick murmured. ‘Will you be hiding in your city quarters?’

‘Oh, no – I have several urgent things to do: best you know nothing of them. But I shall return eventually, I hope. In the meantime, I rely on you to keep them clean and look after Lanceline.’ Madame Cardui returned to the window and threw it open. ‘Au revoir, Kitterick.’

‘Au revoir, Madam,’ Kitterick replied.

She drew a reel of wire from the pocket of her armour and expertly attached one end of it to the windowsill. She clipped the other to her belt and jumped from the window to abseil down the outside wall like a spider on a silken thread.

Kitterick watched until she was safely on the ground, then detached the wire and closed the window.