“I don’t know. I’d guess, by the mood he’s in, he wouldn’t want to
tear his heart away from what it wants. What about Sylvester Skelton? He finds
lost things. He could watch Daimon in water.”
The queen mulled that over a moment, then shook her head. “The goddess has
her eye on him; now so do we. Sylvester would tell the king; word would get
out. I don’t want to intrude so far into Daimon’s life that I drive him
away. Maybe he can work whatever this is out for himself. For now, I just want
to know what it is. And I want him protected.”
A figure formed in the princess’s memory, clad in antique shining armor,
wheeling a huge broadsword in the air at Daimon, pinning him down, then
smiling genially at him afterward.
“Dame Scotia Malory.”
“Who?”
“I saw her fight, and I met her in Sylvester’s tower, reading a book. She’s
very strong, competent, and she offered her services to the sanctum if we
needed her.”
“Really? What made her do that?”
“Something I said. Something she heard that I didn’t say.”
“Indeed,” the queen murmured, her tense face regaining some of its calm.
There was a faint tap at the door then, followed by a cat scratch; Perdita
stood abruptly.
“That would be Aunt Morrig, wondering why I’m not at my post.”
“Go, then,” the queen said softly. “I’ll send for Dame Scotia.” She
opened the door, smiling at the aged, inquisitive face behind it, peering into
the chamber for the missing sanctum guardian.
Perdita took the customary station in the antechamber, seated upon a great
stone among the smaller, candle-bearing river rocks taken from Calluna’s
cave. There, she could watch both the tower and the inner stairwells for
intruders, the stones for guttering candles, and keep an eye out for glitches
in the movement of waters gliding soundlessly down the walls. She could, as
well, meditate upon the ancient, powerful face of the goddess on the sanctum
wall. She could also, if so inclined, pay attention to the comings and goings
in and out of the changing chambers along the far wall near the stairs. She
did not see her mother leave. She did see the tall, graceful young woman in
knightly black who came up the inner stairs to knock on the queen’s door.
Perdita was waiting for her beyond a curve in the stairwell when Dame Scotia
came down.
She put a finger to her lips; Scotia closed her mouth, bowed her head
silently, and waited.
“I’m coming with you,” the princess whispered.
“The queen warned me you would say that,” Dame Scotia said softly.
“Then I’ll go alone.”
“Prince Daimon hardly knows me, Princess Perdita,” the knight answered, her
brows crooked doubtfully. “If he sees you, he may take us in circles.”
“And you hardly know Daimon. How will you recognize what’s important to him?
Calluna showed his face to me, in her waters.” The princess added, at the
knight’s silence, “Maybe she knows I can help.”
“I may be dedicated to Severen by my status,” Scotia said finally, “but I’
m not about to argue with the goddess. If Prince Daimon sees us, we can tell
him we are questing together: both looking for the same thing for very
different reasons.”
Perdita heard the sanctum door open and close softly above them. “Lady
Seabrook,” she breathed. “She’s on the prowl this morning. I’ll see if
Daimon is still in the palace. Meet me at the road nearest the sanctum tower
in half an hour.”
Dame Scotia went down; the princess went up, rounding the curve just as Morrig
appeared at the top.
“I’m here,” she said to the elderly, darkly clad figure staring confusedly
down at her. “I thought I heard forbidden voices on the stairs.”
“That’s odd,” her great-aunt commented. “So did I.”
Instead of her well-known Greenwing, Perdita took one of the fast black sedans
out of the garage that the knights donned like a second uniform when they
drove. She picked up Dame Scotia and parked on the quiet, tree-lined side
roads behind the palace. There they sat, arguing amicably about who should
drive, and almost ignoring the sudden streak of black that curved around them,
and away. Perdita started the engine hastily.
“He’s in uniform,” Dame Scotia commented. “I wonder if he’s questing.”