“I don’t know,” said Chantel. “Maybe it’s something to do with this spell.”
“Hm.” The queen stopped with her hands in her pockets and stared at Lightning, still snoozing under the tree. Then she turned and looked at Chantel eye to eye. “There is something I can tell you. You are more powerful than any of those who seek to act against you. But they can still overcome you if you make the wrong choices. Do not, under any circumstances, make the wrong choices.”
“How—”
The queen held up a hand to stop her. “Whom do you wish to help?”
Chantel thought. “The girls at school. And Bowser. And I suppose Franklin, although he’s a Mar— a Sunbiter, and kind of annoying.”
The queen shook her head. “Too small.”
“And the sorceresses, of course, if they need it,” said Chantel.
“Still too small.”
Chantel wracked her brain. “The city?”
“Are you asking me?” said the queen.
“The city. The people.”
The queen looked at the dragon, and then back at Chantel. “A good answer. And a natural one, given your affinity for . . . for snakes. But I’m afraid it’s still too small.”
“Then what—”
“You wish to find these sorceresses. It may be that they were kidnapped for their power. So you must ask yourself, who wants power?”
“I don’t—”
The queen cocked her head. “I hear something. It’s probably Rose coming in with my morning ale. I think you’d better go before I wake up.”
“But can’t you tell me—”
“No time! Quickly!” The queen made a shooing-chickens gesture. “If there’s a wall in your time, you might be trapped.”
The queen was right. Trapped, and in the midst of hostile Sunbiters. Chantel turned and fled up the path.
She ran as fast as she could, and even so she felt some resistance as she crossed Seven Buttons. A moment later, she was blinking away the last of the steam.
And the Order of Watchful Sentinels was dragging Franklin away.
13
A JOURNEY TO THE TOP
Anna was struggling to hang on to one of Franklin’s arms; Bowser had the other. The guards were raining down blows on both of them, but Bowser and Anna held fast.
“Stop!” Chantel said, firmly. After all, she had just been talking to a queen. Guards didn’t frighten her. Much.
The guards did stop, slightly.
“The boy is under arrest,” said a Watchful Sentinel to Chantel. “Anyone who interferes will also be arrested.”
“Why?” Chantel demanded
The man looked like he wanted to tell Chantel to mind her own business, but somehow he didn’t. “He is suspected of being a Marauder spy.”
“Well, he’s not a spy,” said Chantel. “I can tell you he’s not. We brought him—”
“Chantel!” said Franklin loudly.
“What?” said Chantel. “They can’t—”
“Chantel, leave it. Please.” Franklin looked straight at her and lied. “I—they’re—They’re not going to harm me.”
“Not as long as your friends don’t interfere, and you come along quietly,” said the guard. “Otherwise we might have to run you through and feed your guts to the ravens.”
“Please, Chantel,” said Franklin.
Chantel clenched her fists in frantic fury. Anna and Bowser clearly didn’t know what to do either. And while they were standing there being indecisive, the guards marched Franklin away.
Chantel and her friends looked after him in dejection. Chantel felt a wriggle in her stomach—Japheth the snake was back. Well, he was no help.
“I can’t believe they took Franklin!” Anna fumed. “If I ran this city—”
She trailed off.
They began gathering up the detritus from the spell.
“Did you find out anything useful?” said Bowser.
“I don’t think so.” Chantel looked down the street where the guards had just disappeared with Franklin. Why hadn’t she done something?
“What did you see?” asked Anna.
“I talked to Queen Haywith.”
“Really? The traitor?” Bowser looked disgusted and alarmed.
“I hope you didn’t believe anything she said,” said Anna. “I guess we’ll have to do the spell again.”
“No!” Chantel was surprised by her own vehemence. “I mean, maybe later. Not right now.”
The others stared at her.
“I need to think about things,” she explained.
“They just took Franklin,” said Anna, stomping at the stone street as they climbed. “Why did he say he would be all right?”
“He doesn’t know the patriarchs like we do,” said Bowser. “Do you think they’ll torture him?”
“Probably,” said Anna glumly. “If I—”
“Will you shut up!” said Chantel.
The other two looked at her in astonishment.
“I know you have a snake in your head—” said Anna.
The snake was actually wriggling along Chantel’s shinbone at the moment. She shook her foot angrily, trying to settle him, and stomped extra hard as they climbed the next set of stone steps.
Anna looked hurt. Chantel felt bad. She didn’t want to feel bad, but she did. She should apologize. If Anna had been a grown-up, it would have been easy. Chantel would have just had to curtsey and beg her pardon. But you couldn’t deport with your friends.
“Sorry,” Chantel muttered.
Anna looked somewhat less hurt. “Do you think we can rescue him?”
“If we tried, we’d be rebelling against the patriarchs,” said Bowser. “We’d all be put to death. They’d sacrifice us on the wall.”
Chantel knew this was true. People did get sacrificed on the wall sometimes.
She trailed behind Anna and Bowser as they climbed the winding streets back to Miss Ellicott’s School. She thought about her odd encounter with Queen Haywith, the traitor. And the dragon. The sleeping dragon. The queen had called it Lightning. Chantel felt oddly homesick for the dragon. She wished it had opened its eyes.
They found Miss Flivvers and the others making soup from vegetables and the neck of a chicken. Mr. Less the clerk had brought money, and had escorted Miss Flivvers to a market on the north slope—the Miss Flivverses of the world do not venture forth alone. There were still no potatoes, alas.
Miss Flivvers sent Chantel, Anna, and Bowser out into the parlor, and came in shortly with a pot of tea for them.
This was not the sort of treatment to which any of them were accustomed. The parlor was usually reserved for the sort of visitors who expect rose-covered carpets and red satin wing chairs as a matter of course.
Miss Flivvers shut the parlor door, and poured out tea and handed it around.
Chantel took a sip. The tea was warm and comforting. The snake seemed to grow calm and somnolent in its presence. He fell asleep somewhere behind her lungs.
“Well? Did you find out how to do the Buttoning?” asked Miss Flivvers, sipping her tea very correctly with her pinky sticking out.
“No,” said Chantel.
“And did you learn anything of poor Euphonia’s fate?”
“No.”
“Well,” said Miss Flivvers. “You must just keep searching while the rest of us try to find—”
“Miss Flivvers, the guards arrested Franklin!” said Anna.
“The Marauder boy?” Miss Flivvers sniffed. “I always suspected he was guilty of something.”