Melissa turned away, both amused by the Harpy and annoyed at the feathered beast. As she moved to the next cell, she saw that the Toad was awake. It had risen to sit on its haunches, its huge, warty belly distended. It fixed Melissa with a bulging stare that seemed empty of all intelligence. Melissa glanced back at the Harpy.“What are the homilies it remembers?”
“How to sour goat’s milk. How to grow artichokes. How to please the Griffon.”
Melissa stared in at the Toad.“Will you tell me how to please the Griffon?” She doubted that the Toad would answer, it looked so dull.
“Caress of gold warmed by sun,” the Toad said in a slow, expressionless voice. “Kiss of emerald blessed by Bast, can please the steed of Nemesis.” The beast looked at her without expression.
Melissa repeated its words, then,“Toad, can you tell me about my past? Can you help me remember who I am?”
The Toad stared at her then lay down again. In an instant it was asleep.
She shouted at it and reached through the bars, but her fingers could barely reach its warty hide. It slept on, deeply.
Well, at least it had told her how to please the Griffon, though likely she would never need to know that. The Harpy, looking out at her, seemed to divine her thoughts.“The Griffon would as soon eat you as look at you.”
Melissa said nothing. She left the Harpy and approached the wall that hid the rebel prisoners, and pressed her ear to the mossy stone.
She could hear nothing. She tried all the opening spells she knew, but the wall remained solid. She drew her light over the mossy stones looking for seams, but found none. She turned away at last toward the stairs and climbed quickly.
Chapter 10
Uneasily Melissa approached the door of the queen’s solar, wishing she knew why she had been summoned this time, and afraid she did know why. Yesterday when Briccha sent her up with the queen’s new riding boots, she had paused in Siddonie’s wardrobe to listen to the queen and two men talking in the chamber beyond. She had recognized the voice of the queen’s seneschal. The dark, stooped man made her uneasy; Vrech came into the scullery sometimes to paw the girls, embarrassing most of them, and enraging Briccha. He was harsh, mean eyed, and not too clean.
Standing in the queen’s wardrobe, she had listened to talk about imported wines and medicines from the upperworld, and Siddonie had said something about the portal in Xendenton and about a caravan carrying goods to Cressteane and Ferrathil. Vrech said they should not use the southern portal, that it opened on the upperworld in too crowded a location. Siddonie had snapped that she knew that, but it was less than an hour’s ride away and he should be able to manage his affairs so no one suspected anything. The queen spoke with cool familiarity of the upperworld cities to which the tunnels led. When the conversation lagged and a chair scraped, Melissa had fled for the hall. She had reached the other end of the passage when Vrech came out, followed by a thick, stiffly moving man with grayish skin and mud-colored hair. The two men had started down the stair when Vrech glanced along the hall, looking her over.
“That’s the girl,” he said softly.
The men had paused, staring at her. She looked back boldly, but fear touched her. Finally they had moved on, laughing. She was terrified they knew she had been listening. And now, summoned by the queen, mounting the last steps and starting down the hall, she was certain she would be punished for spying.
She had been summoned not to the black door that led to the queen’s dark chamber but to the adjoining solar which opened between the queen’s rooms and the king’s. She expected another dark room with black furniture and closed draperies.
But she entered a bright room, the draperies open to the green day, and four oil lamps burning. The walls were of a pale, smooth material she didn’t recognize. The cream satin draperies, tied back, revealed a balcony then the far forest and a sweep of granite sky. The queen stood before a white marble mantel. She was dressed in pale riding pants, soft boots, and a white satin shirt clinging to her breasts and open at the collar. Her black hair was coiled elaborately, her black eyes were intense. A memory touched Melissa—she saw the queen dressed in strange clothes, a tight dress that ended at the knee. The vision filled her with fear and hatred. Even her dislike of the queen, and her knowledge of Siddonie’s cruelties, seemed not enough to support the deep, total hatred that now swept her.
“I have decided to shorten your hours in the scullery, Sarah. Will that please you?”
“I…Of course it will please me.” She was not to be punished, then? Did the queen not know she had eavesdropped?
“I plan to give you some tests. I believe you will find them interesting.”
“What—what sort of tests?”
“Why, to discover your magic skills.”
She shivered, puzzled and apprehensive.“I have no special skills.”
“Did you not bring a light to guide your way up the passages to me, just now?”
“That is cottage magic—anyone can do that. There is no power to that—not like your powers.” She didn’t like treating this woman with deference, but she sensed that it was wise.
The queen smiled.“Do you remember the winged lizards which flew over you when you went to the Hell Pit? Ah, yes, I see that you do. My lizards saw clearly what you are capable of—Sarah. It takes a special talent to call the Lamia from the Hell Pit.”
Melissa felt naked and defenseless, as if she were suddenly suspended again over the Pit, about to be dropped into the flames.
“It takes great talent to make the Lamia obey you.” The queen’s smile was so cold Melissa shivered. “I mean to train your talent in more complicated magic, Sarah.” The queen looked at her deeply. “You are to be my disciple. You are to learn the powers of a queen.”
Melissa gawked. She dare not speak. Why should the queen want to train her?
“And now, my dear, shall we begin to use your real name? I much prefer Melissa.”
She swallowed.“If you wish.”
“Why did you lie to me about your name?”
“I didn’t mean to lie. I am used to Sarah; it is what I am called. Any other name seems uncomfortable.” She was sweating, her throat was dry and constricted.
“I’m sure you will learn to respond to Melissa. It is your birth name. Come closer and kneel.”
Melissa took three steps and knelt on the pale, richly patterned rug. Coldly she listened to the queen’s spell binding her to a disciple’s rules and submissions. She had not been asked if she wished to serve. Siddonie of Affandar did not ask, she commanded.
The spells were long and complicated. The queen’s power pressed so strongly on Melissa she was hardly able to breathe. Silently, terrified, she wielded a counter-spell to block Siddonie’s enchantment. But she began to feel deeply lazy as the malaise of enchantment took her. How rich was the queen’s voice. And Siddonie was so beautiful, her pale skin creamy against the satin shirt, her black hair and black eyes gleaming like ebony.
Melissa jerked her thoughts back, alarmed. She fought Siddonie’s charm harder with all the skill she knew. But blocking Siddonie’s powers, keeping her face passive, again she imagined another room, where Siddonie sat at a desk, a very young Siddonie, no more than a child. The room glowed with a white, harsh light, and beyond the window loomed infinite space, as if the stone sky had vanished, leaving a void, a terrifying emptiness.
But then the memory faded, and she continued to fight Siddonie, keeping her eyes expressionless.
The queen watched her intently.“You may rise, Melissa.” She nodded, smiling, as if she had seen in Melissa’s face obedience to her spells. “You will return to the scullery when I dismiss you.” She moved away from the mantel and drew her fingers along the back of a satin chair. “You will tell Briccha that from this day you are to work only in the mornings. Once you have spoken to her you will go to the dressmaker to be fitted for two plain, serviceable dresses. I have chosen the fabric. Then you will go to the bootmaker for sandals. You will come to me promptly each afternoon when you are summoned, not before.