The Threads of Magic Page 21

  Are we still friends?

  Pip took a deep breath. Yes, Clovis, he said. Yes. We’re still friends.

  He stood for a couple more moments, trying to clear his head.

  We have to get somewhere safe, he said. A place where that … thing … can’t find us.

  Chapter Forty-nine

  AFTER THE ENCOUNTER WITH THE SPECTRE, PIP seemed to have lost what little sense of direction he had left. Once his pulse stopped racing, he stepped out of the laneway and ventured cautiously down a side street, which led to a large thoroughfare he didn’t recognize. It was packed with people, all of them heading one way, and he had unwarily stepped into the flow, thinking the crowd would make him harder to find, even for a Spectre. But now he couldn’t get out: the street had turned into a river of people that bore him along, and no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t seem to reach the edge of it.

  Many people, Pip saw uneasily, carried weapons: knives, mallets, hammers, even old swords. There was going to be trouble. And the push was getting tighter and tighter as more people joined. He began to be afraid that he might fall and be trampled.

  He didn’t even know which way the Undercroft was now. Clovis was no help at all. When Pip asked him where they were, he just repeated that he had moved them a street away from where they had been before, and then he went very quiet and refused to answer.

  Pip was beginning to suspect that Clovis’s ideas of distance bore very little relationship to his own. It was probably something to do with having been locked up in a tiny box for fifty years. Or maybe princes didn’t know anything about cities because they spent all their lives inside palaces having their arses wiped by servants.

  They were definitely somewhere in the poorer quarters of Clarel. All Pip knew was that he definitely didn’t want to go wherever the people were going.

  At last the crowd emptied itself into a large square and the pressure around him lifted. Pip breathed out with relief and shook his arms, which were aching from being pummelled.

  Now Pip could feel the mood of the crowd in his bones: excited and jubilant and defiant. It was contagious, and for a few moments he wanted just to be part of it, to go where everyone else was going. But the crowd was also tense, on the verge of explosion.

  Every minute, more people were pouring into the open space, and it was beginning to get tight again. People could suffocate and die in crowds like this. Pip started pushing between the hot, packed bodies, guiding himself by a clock tower that he could just see over the heads of the crowd. People swore and cuffed him, but there was still enough space to squirm away before anyone could start a proper fight. It was slow going, and every moment that passed he felt more frustrated.

  I don’t like this, said Clovis. We’re in the wrong place.

  You could have said before, answered Pip crossly. When I was asking for directions. You plonked me somewhere I don’t know. It’s not my fault.

  It’s not mine either, said Clovis petulantly. I was just trying to help.

  Pip ignored him and kept pushing. At last he reached the edge of the square and started worming his way along the walls. Once he got out of the crowd, he thought, he could find a way to escape the city. He had no clear idea of what to do after that. Pip was used to surviving moment to moment, so he normally didn’t worry too much about later until later turned up.

  A roar started at the other end of the square, voices raised in anger or fear, and there was a violent surge. Pip scanned the walls desperately: there were doors, shuttered shopfronts, a broad flight of steps leading up to some posh building… There had to be an alley somewhere…

  And yes, at last, there was a gap, so narrow he could easily have missed it if he hadn’t been looking so closely. He lunged inside, praying that it wasn’t a dead end, or that if it was a dead end, that the walls might at least be climbable. It was dank and smelly, little more than a foot wide, but soon it opened up into an alley. Pip breathed out and continued onwards, diving down some damp steps through a crumbling archway. For some reason, this alley was completely empty. After the crowd, the emptiness felt a bit sinister, but Pip began to feel hopeful that maybe luck was on his side, after all.

  He scuttled around a corner, and tripped over someone who was crouched against the wall, their face hidden in their arms. Pip swore and picked himself up, turning to abuse them.

  He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was Princess Georgette. She was dressed in breeches and a tunic, and her ringlets were mostly tangles, but it was definitely the same girl. He gaped in astonishment and then pulled himself together.

  “What the hells are you doing here?”

  Georgette scrambled to her feet, clenching her hands. “Who are you?”

  “Pip,” he said. “We met at Amina’s.”

  Georgette blinked, and he saw that she didn’t remember him. He felt a twinge of annoyance. “I expect you didn’t really look at me, me being a commoner and everything.”

  “No, no, I remember you,” said Georgette hastily. “It’s just… I’m just…”

  “Running away?’

  She nodded warily.

  “Us too,” said Pip.

  Georgette looked puzzled, and peered behind him. “Us?”

  “Who are you running from?”

  Georgette looked as if she were about to cry again. “I’m not sure,” she said. “There was a horrible fight, and some of my— my companions were injured. And then I just ran…”

  “Which way was that? Were you in the square?”

  “What square?”

  Pip pointed behind him, trying to curb his impatience. “That one back there.”

  Georgette shook her head. “I came from the other way,” she said. “And then I got lost and I ended up here, and I don’t know what to do…”

  Pip reflected that the last thing he needed right now was a tearful princess, but he felt a stab of sympathy. “Well, then, maybe come with us. I mean, with me.”

  “Where are you going, though?”

  “Somewhere safer,” said Pip.

  Georgette stood up. “I’d like to,” she said. Pip realized with surprise that she wasn’t only frightened; she was shy. “I don’t really know my way around.”

  There isn’t anywhere safer, said Clovis. Not here. Not anywhere.

  “Well, that’s really helpful, thanks,” said Pip, speaking out loud. Georgette looked hurt, and he added, “No, not you. Clovis.”

  “Who?”

  “Clovis,” he repeated impatiently. “The Prince. Isn’t he some kind of cousin of yours?”

  We can’t take her, she’ll betray us. Clovis sounded panicked.

  Don’t be silly, said Pip. We can’t leave her on her own here.

  He can smell her, said Clovis. Like a dog. Like dogs sniff people out. He’ll track her down and then I won’t be able to hide us.

  Pip hesitated. Georgette, puzzled and afraid, tried to drag together some of her dignity. “I understand if you can’t help me. Of course.”

  “No time to explain,” Pip said, taking her hand. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Fifty

  “WHERE’S PIP?”

  Oni was the only one who heard El’s question. The witches were still discussing what to do next. El had given up trying to follow what the witches were saying, because she hardly understood any of it.

  Oni had said nothing for ages, and was just sitting there, frowning and picking at her lip. Pip had disappeared to look for a privy but it had been a long time since he left the tent. Too long.

  “Oni, maybe we should go look for Pip? Do you think he got lost?”

  Oni quickly met El’s eyes. Be quiet, the look said.

  “Oni?” El felt her chest tightening. “Do you know where he is? Has something happened to him?”

  Oni shook her head, and put her finger on her lips. But it was too late: they had attracted Amina’s attention. She glanced at the two girls sharply, and then her gaze swept to Pip’s empty chair. Her lips set into a straight line and she settled
back into her chair, staring at her daughter.

  “Where is that boy?”

  Oni shrugged. “How should I know?” she said.

  “The Heart boy?” said Juin.

  “He isn’t back,” said El. “He went to the privy ages ago and maybe someone’s kidnapped him or he got lost and now…” She yelped because Oni kicked her under the table. “Oni! Why did you do that?”

  Now everyone was looking at Oni. “I told you, I don’t know,” she said.

  “I am willing to bet my last silver piece that you do know,” said Amina. “And now is not the time for games, Oni. I’m serious.”

  Oni swept a fiery glance around the table. “He ran away because he thought you were going to kill him. And I don’t blame him.”

  Helios looked appalled. “Why would he think that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Oni. Her eyes were sparkling with anger. “Maybe it’s because you wouldn’t listen to him – or me. Maybe it’s because all you can talk about is how to destroy Clovis. Maybe if you want to destroy Clovis you have to destroy Pip.”

  There was a shocked silence, and then everyone started talking at once.

  Amina stood up, her voice carrying over the rest. “Are you saying he’s run off?”

  “You frightened him. And Clovis. Clovis was terrified.”

  El stared at Oni, her lower lip trembling. “They wanted to kill Pip?”

  “Pip knows what Old Missus Pledge did to make the Heart, better than any of you. Of course he thought you wanted to kill him.”

  “You knew he’d run off and you said nothing?” Amina looked as angry as Oni. “Knowing everything you do, with the fate of the city in the balance?”

  “None of you would listen.”

  Oni folded her arms mutinously and refused to say anything more. Juin leapt out of his chair and said he would search for Pip in the Undercroft, because he was sure that even a day person couldn’t be so ignorant as to walk out into direct danger. Helios was suggesting a search party. El began to sob quietly, her face hidden in her hands.

  Sibelius d’Artan emerged from the back of the tent in the middle of the chaos and stood with his mouth open, trying to make sense of the babble. Amiable glanced over at him and almost spat. “Day people!” she said. “We should never have let them in.”

  Sibelius bowed awkwardly. “My apologies,” he said. “I was just wondering…”

  “Go back to sleep. Back with your precious princess. At least none of you are any trouble when you’re snoring.”

  “Princess Georgette?” said Sibelius, looking bewildered. “She’s not asleep.”

  Amina whipped around to face him. “Georgette isn’t in the bedchamber?”

  “No,” said Sibelius. “I thought perhaps … I thought she could show me where to get … to get breakfast…” He trailed off, looking from witch to witch. “Of course, if it’s inconvenient…”

  Oni snorted. “Georgie was probably frightened and ran away too,” she said. “I bet you weren’t very nice to her.”

  “Witches aren’t nice,” said Amiable. “That’s not what witches are for.”

  “She was talking about wanting to lead the rebellion,” Helios said, looking conscience-stricken. “But I was too busy…”

  “See, I told you,” said Amiable. “Never trust a royal.”

  Missus Clay slowly stood, lifting her hands for silence. She suddenly seemed very weary. “We must search the Undercroft first,” she said. “Juin, you do that. But it seems very likely, does it not, that the two people who most matter in our fight against the Spectres are now loose and unprotected in the streets of Clarel?”

  “Yes,” said Amina. “It does. And my own daughter had a part in it.”

  Missus Clay drew a trembling hand across her forehead. “Then we must find them. If it’s not too late.”

  “They’re probably hiding from witches,” said Oni. “But they both trust me. So maybe I should look for them.”

  “You dare move a step outside the Undercroft, young lady, and I will have your hide.” Amina’s voice was trembling with rage. “You’ve done enough harm already.”

  “It’s not me who did the harm,” said Oni. She was standing very straight, and her mouth was set in a stubborn line. “I bet some of you would be very happy to murder Pip, and Georgette too, if you thought it would save your scrawny necks. Well, I’m not happy about that. It’s not their fault we’re in such a mess.”

  “It will be their fault if the Spectres get hold of them,” said Amiable. “And yours too, if you helped them betray us.”

  Oni gasped, as if she had been slapped. “I’ve betrayed no one,” she said hotly. “But maybe some of you should have a good hard look at yourselves and think about the Laws. Do you remember those Laws? Maybe you’re just like Spectres and think they don’t matter.”

  “I think everybody should calm down,” said Missus Orphint. Like Oni, she had been sitting quietly apart, not participating in the argument. “Yes, it might be too late. But Oni has a point. Nobody listened to her, or to young Pip. Or, it seems, to Princess Georgette. It could be that Old Missus Pledge was wrong about the spell. Maybe there’s another way.”

  Bottomly popped into sight on the table. “With all due respect, Missus Orphint, we’ve been trying to come up with another way for hours and there isn’t one.”

  “Well, I don’t care what any of you think,” said Oni. “Everybody says that we have to find Pip and Georgette, and that it’s my fault for letting Pip go, so I’ll go find them. No, Ma, you can’t stop me. I’m not a child any more. I’m pretty sure I know how to find Pip. So I’ll start there.”

  El looked up at Oni, blinking tears out of her eyes, and took her hand. “Will you really, Oni? You’ll find Pip and bring him back to me?”

  Oni’s face softened. She bent down and kissed El’s hair. “I will find him, my dearest El,” she whispered. “It’ll be easy, I’ll use a spell.” She strode to the exit, and then turned around, her eyes flashing with rage. “You all look after El. She’s worth more than the rest of you put together. At least she has a heart.”

  After Oni stormed out, there was a long, awkward silence. It was broken by a loud gurgle from Sibelius’s stomach. He flushed and apologized. “I haven’t eaten, you see, since…”

  Amiable studied him thoughtfully, her expression inscrutable, high spots of colour flying on her cheeks. Sibelius, already familiar with Amiable’s sharp tongue, braced himself for abuse.

  “If you like, I’ll take you to the bakery tent,” she said. “They’ve brought in new supplies from Armand’s. I’m hungry, too.”

  Chapter Fifty-one

  “WHICH WAY DO WE GO?” PRINCESS GEORGETTE pushed a sweaty lock of hair out of her eyes. They had hit another dead end. She had had no idea that Clarel was so full of streets that went nowhere.

  “Just wait here,” said Pip, and disappeared back the way they had come.

  For an hour she and Pip had been scurrying through the outer suburbs of Clarel, heading, so Pip told her, for the city walls. Pip had said he was planning to hide in the countryside until the trouble passed. He was a bit vague about where they would go, or who would hide them, though he said he had relatives who would be happy to see a long-lost cousin and would help them.

  They had had a short argument when Georgette suggested they return to the Undercroft. Pip was adamant that they shouldn’t, and Georgette, unsure that she would be permitted back after running away, didn’t feel confident enough to push it.

  Making their way through the dusty streets of Clarel on Midsummer Day was thirsty work, especially the way Pip did it. Sometimes they ran down narrow lanes, sometimes they crept along walls, sometimes they doubled back the way they had come, sometimes she stood for ages in a doorway while Pip peered around corners. When she had complained of thirst, Pip had bought a mug of sour ale with some coins, and shared with her. It was Georgette’s turn next, he said. But Georgette didn’t have any money in her pockets. Princesses never had coins
. They didn’t need them.

  Pip returned and tapped her shoulder. “Left,” he said. “I think.”

  “Do you really know where we’re going?”

  “Sort of.” Pip suddenly grinned. “More than you do, anyway.”

  “It doesn’t look like it to me.”

  “I can find ways,” said Pip. “And I know how not to be followed. Trust me.”

  Georgette, reflecting that she had no choice, sighed and followed him. She was too tired to argue anyway.

  For a while, she had thought things were about to work out in the way she had always imagined they would, and that she would be Queen after all. It had been exhilarating, being borne aloft among a crowd of cheering followers, all headed to the palace to overthrow the King. Georgette could see herself taking the throne as the people celebrated, sending her father with a lordly gesture to the dungeons – with which he had so often threatened her – and making everything in the city of Clarel right and just. But it was a naïve lie that she had told herself.

  When they had charged into the square in front of Clarel Palace, they had run right into a line of soldiers, whose silver armour gleamed in the sun. Nobody had been frightened, at least at first. Everyone had shouted defiantly and waved their weapons and kept marching. They had expected the army, after all. But Georgette wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

  The horsemen lowered their spears and charged. Georgette had fallen to the ground. She still didn’t know how she hadn’t been trampled to death. And then there was the fighting, the smell of blood, the feel of it beneath her shoes.

  And Georgette, brave Princess Georgette, had run away.

  She didn’t know if the soldiers had killed everybody or if the people had fought their way through and taken the palace. She had scrambled desperately through the fighting, dodging the clashing weapons. And then she had run until she was so exhausted that she had collapsed in a heap. And she had stayed there until Pip tripped over her. She wasn’t brave at all, like she had imagined she was. She was a coward.