A Tale of Two Castles

He hunched down. “Honey, honey,” he sang close to the floor. “Come to Dess, honey.” Still bent over, he hurried toward the doors to the outer ward.

I returned to the inner ward, now crowded with guests and servants. Sir Misyur, holding Nesspa, was dividing the servants into groups to search the castle. Master Thiel joined the group on its way to the cellar under the kitchen. Other guests called their cats, but he didn’t call Pardine.

Two cats came, both ambling out of the kitchen with a well-fed air. My stomach churned.

The princess descended the steps from the battlements. Maybe she thought His Lordship would go where Nesspa had been found, but I doubted a mouse could manage the stairs on its short legs.

Silly as she often was, she seemed a tragic figure now, taking each step slowly, dejectedly, one hand on the curtain stones to balance herself.

Sir Misyur patted Nesspa’s head and let go of his chain. “Perhaps the dog will lead us to his master.”

But Nesspa just curled up at the steward’s feet.

Some thought dogs clairvoyant. If his master were no more, mightn’t he be howling?

An early star flickered in the eastern sky. Soon I would have to meet my masteress and confess my failure. Sir Misyur told me and two servants with oil lamps to search the barracks, so I returned there. We peered under every bed and poked every pile of belongings while my ears strained for a cry of discovery outside.

We left the barracks as the castle bells rang nine. A black shape winged ITs way toward the castle.





Chapter Twenty-Four

Oh, how I wished I didn’t have to meet my masteress. I started through the postern passage to the outer ward but had to stop in the middle, overwhelmed by a flood of tears. His Lordship had shown himself to be good, only good. If alive, he was suffering. If dead . . . I didn’t want to think about it. And if he was gone forever, so was the monkey. That merriment, gone.

I should never have let Count Jonty Um and his dog be separated. Nesspa would have stopped the cats. I continued through the tunnel, sniffling as I went. Outside, I hurried to the back of the castle where Masteress Meenore and I had met before, but IT wasn’t there.

I heard shouts. A plume of purple smoke rose above the battlements. I ran.

There was my masteress, ITs legs set squarely, ITs wings spread on the ground, blocking the passage that led between the outer gatehouses to the drawbridge. I wound my way among guests waiting to climb into carts.

Flames played around ITs lips. “Someone will answer for His Lordship’s misfortune.”

How did IT know?

“You will all oblige me by remaining to answer my questions.”

Sounding not at all frightened, a man said, “Ask us in Two Castles tomorrow, Meenore. I want my bed.”

IT didn’t budge.

“I will not buy a skewer ever again if you don’t let me go.” The voice belonged to one of the men on line on my first day.

IT swallowed ITs flame.

A chorus of protests ensued. My masteress would lose the custom of all of Two Castles if IT didn’t let people leave.

ITs smoke blued. IT gave in and rose into the air.

I raced back to where I’d expected IT to land.

Behind me, IT trumpeted, “Tomorrow I will come to each of you. You will not escape me.”

Circle overhead, I thought. Give me a few minutes. I didn’t want IT to know I’d witnessed ITs humiliation.

I wondered why anyone would tell IT the truth now or tomorrow. The guests were probably hoping for an end to His Lordship, even if they’d played no part in bringing his end about.

But any of them might have done it. A simple gesture would have been enough. Goodwife Celeste had shown me on the cog how to start a cat stalking. She herself might have given the signal.

I reached the back of the castle and stood panting.

My masteress landed in a cloud of blue smoke. “We are both disgraced, Lodie. I saw you at the drawbridge.”

“Masteress, how did you know His Lordship is gone?”

“You just said so.” Enh enh enh. “Tell me all.”

Standing close to ITs warmth, I related everything I could remember. IT questioned me again and again about who said what and where and when and with what expression, what tone of voice, what gestures. Such a misery it was to recite the tale over and over and never be able to change the ending.

As I spoke, weariness struck. I sat on the grass, certain that if I kept standing, my knees would buckle.

“Stand, Lodie. I need you alert.”

I struggled up.

“Hold my wing.”

I reached out gingerly, afraid of being burned, but the wing was no hotter than cozy, and it was bracing. My tiredness fell away.

“How many guests brought cats?”

“At least eighteen.”

“At least?”

“Definitely eighteen.” Or more.

“What were their names?”

“The cats?”

“Don’t be foolish. The guests’ names, the ones with the cats.”

IT was being horrible. “Master Thiel brought Pardine. The mayor’s wife had a cat. Goodwife Celeste’s son-in-law had one. The man whose water you heat.” I squeezed my eyes shut in hopes of extracting more from my memory. “I don’t know who else.”

“I see,” IT said coldly.

This wasn’t fair! IT should have hired an assistant who knew Two Castles—and left me to starve. “I’m sorry.”

“No doubt.”

Goodwife Celeste was right about the moodiness.

“Masteress . . . why did Master Thiel arrive with the other guests when he’d been here last night?”

“The correct question is, Why was he here last night?”

I could say nothing to please IT. “Yes, why?”

“We will ask him, now that we know the proper question. Tell me again: You saw no one signal the cats?”

I shook my head. “My eyes were on His Lordship, except when I looked down, where the snake was coming out of my mouth.”

The skin above ITs snout crinkled, which I deduced or induced meant confusion.

“The imaginary moonsnake.”

“Ah. Go to bed, Lodie. Perhaps you will dream something useful.” IT lifted into the sky.

When would I see IT again?