You would hardly know that, down in the city, eggs were selling for five dollars each.
When the tea was poured, the king urged her to take at least two of everything. Chantel did, and tried to eat slowly. The cakes were rich and buttery, and the tarts oozed sweet jam that she had to catch with her tongue to keep it from glopping on her robe.
The king merely nibbled at a single bit of cake. Chantel wondered if there would be leftovers, and whether she might be allowed to take some to the girls at the school. She could not possibly ask such a thing, so she said, “Thank you, your Majesty. We never have anything like this at the school.”
“No?” said the king. “And why is that? We thought girls liked cakes and so forth.”
Chantel told him about the shops and markets, and how little there was to buy and how much it all cost, and how the patriarchs bought things in the harbor and then sold them for much more inside the city walls.
“Oh yes, they control the markets,” said the king. “We ourself suffer from it. We have been reduced to living without servants, as you see, and being waited on by our mother and our siblings.”
Too small, Chantel thought. Who had said that to her? She couldn’t remember. Anyway, the king’s concerns were too small.
She expected to feel the snake inside her writhe with impatience. But Japheth was oddly still. Waiting.
“The patriarchs want to strengthen the wall,” Chantel told the king. “Even though, according to them, the Marauders have demanded the walls come down or they’ll kill the sorceresses.”
“Kill the sorceresses? How will the Marauders do that?” said the king.
“I don’t think they can.” Chantel took a deep breath. “I think the patriarchs kidnapped the sorceresses themselves.”
“Dear, dear,” said the king, shaking his head. “Well, you do right to bring this to our attention, Chantel. We have been concerned about these overreaching patriarchs for some time.”
This isn’t about you and the patriarchs, Chantel thought. Too small!
“‘So why didn’t Your Majesty do something,’ you are thinking,” said the king. “Well, we had to wait until the time was right. Now, we believe, the time may be right. For, you see, we have you. And that is not all.”
He snapped his fingers in the air, and Prince George was instantly by his side. “Yes, my lord King?”
“Send them in,” said the king.
The prince in white marched away, straight and tall. He flung open a pair of doors that formed an arch. And through the doors, in a moment, for they had clearly been waiting just outside, came the sorceresses.
15
IN WHICH CHANTEL HAS A HEADACHE
Chantel sprang to her feet. She watched as the missing sorceresses walked forward in a line, gracefully encircled the table where the king sat, and dropped into deep court curtseys. Their robes spread out around them, like the petals of a many-colored flower, with Chantel and the king at the center.
Miss Ellicott, in her green robe, was right in front of her.
“You may rise,” said the king.
The sorceresses rose elegantly, each one a perfect model of deportment.
“The girl, Chantel, has come.” The king nodded at Miss Ellicott. “As you told us she would.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” said Miss Ellicott.
“But she has no snake,” said the king.
The snake, Japheth, was in fact squirming madly, as if sensing Chantel’s confusion.
“Nonetheless, she is unusually powerful, Your Majesty,” said Miss Ellicott. “As I told you, that is why I chose her.”
“Ptishptush,” said the king. “You told me you’d chosen any number of them.”
If being ptishptushed annoyed Miss Ellicott (and Chantel was quite sure it did), the sorceress managed to conceal it. “Any of them might have been chosen,” said Miss Ellicott. “But I always thought Chantle the most likely.”
“And none of them might have,” said the king. “The important thing is, this one was chosen, and now we have her in our castle. And we have you. The patriarchs never let us have any soldiers, but this should be almost as good, eh?”
“I should think it was a great deal better, Your Majesty,” said Miss Ellicott with a touch of asperity.
Chantel hadn’t been spoken to, but she couldn’t hold back any longer. “Miss Ellicott! What is this all about? We thought you were kidnapped! The patriarchs said the Marauders had you.”
“The patriarchs lie,” said Miss Ellicott.
“But . . . you mean you just left us?” Chantel began to feel really angry as the realization came to her. The snake slithered up into her head and battered at the inside of her skull. “You left us alone, and we had nothing to eat and we had to chase out a horrible manageress woman—”
“Nonsense,” said Miss Ellicott. “I left you in Adelika’s care. I knew I could trust her to look after the school.”
Adelika was Miss Flivvers’s given name. “She didn’t! She went all to pieces and we’ve only just gotten her back together again.”
“That’s unfortunate,” said Miss Ellicott. “But it was a necessary temporary measure. Things have taken slightly longer to develop than I expected. We had hoped you would arrive sooner.”
“Why didn’t you send for me, then?” Chantel demanded. The inside of her head began to feel hot.
“We did not wish to draw attention to you,” said the king. “We had far too much to lose. How you ladies do chatter on. The important thing is, we have you now.”
“Why?” said Chantel. “Why did you need me? You had all these sorceresses. I’m not a sorceress! I’m still learning. Why me?”
“Now, Chantel,” the king chided. “Were you brought up to ask why?”
“Chantle,” said Miss Ellicott, “where is the snake?”
“He . . .” Chantel looked at Miss Ellicott. She looked at the sorceresses all around her. She didn’t understand what was going on. Miss Ellicott, who ought to have been at the school, protecting her students, had instead gone off to the castle, without telling anyone. This was not a Miss Ellicott you could trust. This was not a Miss Ellicott to whom you confided that a snake had crawled into your ear.
“He’s away,” she said.
“How long has he been away?”
“Not long at all,” said Chantel, as the snake twisted angrily in her brain. “I’ve heard from him quite recently.”
She wanted to lose her temper, but she had a feeling her deportment had never been more important. “Miss Ellicott,” she said. “What happened to your familiar?”
“It is not your place to ask me questions,” said Miss Ellicott.
The other sorceresses shook their heads and tsk’ed.
“Really,” said the king. “We expected your student to be more shamefast and biddable, Miss Ellicott.”
“My apologies, Your Majesty,” said the sorceress, with a brief and rather angry curtsey.
“I know your familiar was a snake, the same as mine,” said Chantel, fighting for calm. The sorceresses still encircled her. She felt more angry than frightened—but really, she felt plenty of both. Japheth seemed to be burning mad; the inside of her skull felt as if it were on fire.