Spellbinder (Moonshadow #2)

“I smelled like a barnyard,” Sid murmured, ducking her head farther. “I was afraid, and I hadn’t eaten properly in days. Not that it’s any excuse, but it caused me to lash out. A monarch should be greeted with elegance and diplomacy. Your majesty, please forgive me.”

Silence fell over the tableau, heavy with nuances and the ripe scents of summer. Danger breathed softly along the back of Sid’s neck.

Then Isabeau murmured in a guarded tone, “Perhaps I’ll consider it. Now, why are you here? Modred, why is she here? Why are you here, when I expressly told you I wanted to be alone?”

“Show her, ugly brown-haired girl,” Modred said.

Holding up her hands, Sid turned them over and opened and closed her fingers. The silence grew heavier, like the press of a knife to her jugular.

“What is this?” Isabeau asked.

She couldn’t answer with anything but questions. “Isn’t it mercy?” she asked. “Didn’t you order this, yourself? The moment when I awoke to discover my hands were healed was indescribable. Your majesty, I’m so glad to get the chance to apologize.”

As she waited, her pulse pounded in her ears. Isabeau said nothing for so long, she plummeted into certainty. They were going to kill her and be done with it. A flash of heat washed over her body, followed by a wave of nausea.

Then she jettisoned past terror to realize Isabeau’s extended silence meant she must be telepathizing with someone. Perhaps Modred. Perhaps Sid’s interrogator. Isabeau would be demanding an explanation from her people and getting their versions of the truth.

Sid knew she had convinced the interrogator she knew nothing, but she had no idea what Modred believed.

Tightening every muscle in her torso, she willed the nausea away and waited.

With a rustle of silk, Isabeau left her seat. Long, bejeweled fingers curled around one of Sid’s hands, turning it first one way then the other.

“Look at that,” Isabeau murmured. “They are perfectly restored, aren’t they?”

Did the Queen believe she knew nothing? Was she going to claim credit for the healing? Sid didn’t dare look up. She hadn’t been given permission to do so.

“I’m grateful from the bottom of my heart,” she said, again pouring all the conviction of that truth into her voice.

Isabeau ordered, “Look at me.”

Lifting her head, Sid looked into the Queen’s intent, narrowed gaze.

Watching her closely, Isabeau asked, “Now will you play music for me, ugly brown-haired girl?”

And there it was, the chance to take her money shot. Her opportunity to deliver the closing statement, to seal the deal.

Filling her mind with the memory of the unending bleakness in her underground cell, Sid said with perfect, heartfelt honesty, “Your majesty, there is nothing I want more in this world than to play the very best music I can for you.”

A smile broke over Isabeau’s lovely face, like the deadly blooming of a poisonous flower.

“Excellent,” the Queen said, releasing her hand and standing. “Luckily for you, my music master Olwen is away for a fortnight, so I suppose I might as well give you one more chance. But you will not play anything while you’re like that. Your smell is too offensive. The next time I see you, I want you bathed and in proper attire. You may come to me this evening.”

The wave of relief that hit was so strong, Sid saw black spots dance in front of her eyes. Swaying, she murmured, “I apologize, your majesty, but—”

An edge entered Isabeau’s voice. “But—what—now?”

She simply didn’t have it in her to act servile any longer. Sitting back on her heels, Sid looked up at the Queen and said bluntly, “If you want me to play something for you tonight, I will do my very best, and all the passion of my heart will be in it. But if you give me at least until tomorrow, the music will be much, much better. My hands might be healed, but I’ve lost the conditioning in my fingers, and I haven’t played anything since before the injury.” Thinking back over everything her benefactor had said about Isabeau, she added, “You wouldn’t race a horse directly after it was hurt, would you? The horse couldn’t possibly win, and you would just injure it again.”

Comparing herself to an animal must have hit the right chord, because the irritation in Isabeau’s expression faded somewhat. “I suppose you have a point.”

Watching her carefully, Sid added, “Trust me, it will be worth the wait.”

“Oh, very well.” Isabeau raised one perfect blond eyebrow. “You have three days. I will expect something spectacular from you then, and if it isn’t, what was healed can be rebroken, and there’s always your cell waiting for you down below. Now, I’m done with this.” She snapped her fingers, and a plain-featured, elegantly dressed woman appeared. “Kallah, see this creature gets everything she needs and bring her to me on the evening of the third day.”

“Of course, your majesty,” Kallah murmured.

As Isabeau paused to glance at Sid one last time, a gleam entered her eyes. She added, “And cut off that dark hair. It offends me.”

Just when Sid thought she couldn’t be outraged or shocked any further, something else happened. Rage raced through her like a flash fire. As it passed, it left her shaking.

There was no reason whatsoever for Isabeau to have ordered her hair cut. It was a mean, petty cruelty, and a display of absolute power.

Gazing unblinkingly into the Queen’s eyes, she said mentally, After I play my heart out for you, I will find a way to destroy you. I don’t know when, and I certainly don’t know how. But I buried my mom and dad when they died in a plane crash. I graduated top of my class with a master’s in music from one of the most demanding and competitive schools in the world. I’m a successful musician, business woman, and multimillionaire, and if I could find a way to do all that, I can find a way to do this too.

The thought made her happy. She gave Isabeau a small, wry smile of acquiescence and bowed her head, while Kallah said, “As you wish. Come along, human.”

With every appearance of meekness, Sid did as she was told, and as she followed the Light Fae woman back indoors, she got the unsettling impression of the castle swallowing her whole.

Kallah led her through the immense maze, past the kitchens to an area where both the halls and rooms were rough, plain stone. She stopped at a small room at the end of a hallway. The Light Fae woman said, “These are the servants’ quarters, and this will be your room for the time being. Did you memorize the way we took to get here?”

“I think so,” Sid replied as she took in the details of the room.

There weren’t many. It was furnished with a narrow bed, a simple table with some kind of lamp, and what looked like a plain wardrobe. There was a small window as well, with a wooden shutter.

But the bed had a real mattress, the lamp itself was a miracle, and the window.

There would be light and fresh air. She felt the impulse to cry from sheer relief but reined it in. She refused to show any weakness to the composed, elegant woman who stood watching her so closely.