The King's Daughters (29 page)

Her biting tone tore through my feelings as easily as fangs would tear through my flesh. As a result I found myself caught in a storm of conflicting emotions. For one, I wanted to hold her, kiss her, and beg for her forgiveness. But, at the same time, I was angry at her. I had done nothing wrong. Why was I treated so harshly? I didn't deserve it. "Why are you so unkind to me, Eva? You know how much I care about you. You know how hard I tried to gain your father's approval. And why are you blaming me for something your cousin engineered. I . . . I don't understand you anymore."

Eva lowered her head. I watched her bring her fists to her forehead. "Please, Amir, enough reprimand, enough of your litany of excuses and blames. I cannot quarrel with you today. I don't have the strength for it. So just tell me why you're here and end this meeting."

I blinked. I believed that if she had slapped me I wouldn't be more hurt. For a moment, I debated if I should leave. I could certainly do that. It would be easy, just turn around and walk away. But instead, I stepped forward. "I need your help."

Eva looked up at me, and for the first time since I entered her room, I saw a hint of interest in her eyes. "For what?"

"Solving the mystery of your sisters' disappearances."

Her beautiful, smooth brow became furrowed. "How?"

"Well, I don't know yet. First, I must speak with Isabo, and for this I need you to accompany me to the dungeon. The guards won't refuse you access to her cell."

"No! Isabo can rot there for all I care."

I could tell Eva wouldn't be convinced without knowing more. So I wasted no time and quickly told her all I had learned so far. I recounted my meeting with the baron and the black robed group, with the ghoul, my visit to the Baba's house. I also told her about Isabo's tonic. I told her everything except the fact that I believed Thalia might have been transformed into a bear—a bear which was now dead. Eva was already too broken up. I couldn't deal her that devastating blow right now; it would've been too cruel. No matter how much she'd hurt me, I didn't have the heart to make her suffer more. "Eva, I'm beginning to think that Isabo might be innocent."

"That witch, innocent—NEVER! What you've told me doesn't prove her innocence, Amir."

"It proves that she didn't poison your mother. At the very least, she's innocent of that."

"Are you sure she has nothing to do with Mother's death?"

"Totally," I said, although I wasn't certain, but I needed to convince her, so she would agree to help me.

Eva hugged herself. "If you're right . . . and she's innocent that means . . . "

"That means you're in grave danger."

Eva's eyes plunged into mine. "I care not for my own safety. I thought you'd understand this by now. I fear for my father, my family, and the future of my country. Whoever is behind this isn't only attacking us; he's also attacking Sorvinka's stability."

Crossing the space separating us, Eva said, "Come, Amir. We must hurry. Isabo is scheduled to be burnt at the stake in the very near future. So if we want to speak with her there is no time to waste."

* * *

The castle's dungeon was cold, humid, and, despite numerous torches burning against the walls, cloaked in semi-permanent darkness. This was probably due to the lack of windows and the dark gray stone used in its construction.

Eva and I stopped in front of the head guard.

"Princess!" he said in a mixture of surprise and reverence. "Why is Your Highness here? This isn't a place for—"

Eva raised a hand and, in a commanding tone, ordered, "Where is the witch? I demand to see her."

"Yes, Your Highness. This way, Your Highness." The head guard led us to the iron gate of a cell. Its bars were pitted by time and encrusted with rust flakes. After a brief battle with the lock, the guard opened the gate and let us in.

Taking the lead, Eva took a hesitant step inside the cell, then stopped abruptly. She stayed fixed in place, as if paralyzed. I tried to see what was ahead, but she was hindering my sight. Breaking free of her static state, Eva leaned slightly forward. "Isabo . . . " she said in a strangled voice.

Nothing. No reply came.

"Isabo—Isabo!" Eva called more firmly this time.

Again, no reply.

I looked at the guard standing just outside the iron gate for an explanation.

"She won't answer, Your Highness. She's been like this ever since we brought her in."

Intrigued, I managed to squeeze past Eva and finally got a look at Isabo.

Seated on the straw-covered floor of the cell with her legs spread wide apart and her mouth hanging loosely, Isabo stared at the ceiling without blinking. Her posture was evocative of that of an automaton I had seen years ago. The mechanical doll had looked very much alive when moving, and very much dead when not. I then saw Isabo's chest rise slightly.
She breathes . . . shallowly though
. I also observed that her face was bruised and swollen in places, and that she was disheveled and dirty.

Again I turned my attention to the guard. "You said she's been in that . . . trance, (I couldn't find a better word to describe her state.) since she was arrested."

"No," said the guard. "When we arrested her, she screamed, cried, and cursed us. It's only after we threw her in here that she turned that way. She hasn't eaten or drunk anything since."

I stared at the stale loaf of bread and the bright blue bowl of water set in the corner of the cell. The loaf was untouched, the blue bowl, with its cheery raindrop decoration painted on its sides, was still filled to the brim.

The guard shuffled his feet. "We tried to make her speak . . . without success. She didn't say a word or make a sound, not even a peep. Nothing worked on her. It's as if she feels nothing."

I eyed Isabo's bruised face, her lips were split, her nose bent and bloody. I shook my head. She certainly had been brutalized enough to at least have yelled in pain. "You mentioned that she was speaking when you arrested her. What did she say then?"

As the guard glanced at Isabo, his attitude became one of disdain. For him she was a criminal like any other. "The usual," he said with a shrug. "You know, I'm innocent; you're making a mistake and such. Then she cursed the queen."

"Interesting! Do you recall the words she used, her exact ones?"

"Hm . . . " The guard scratched his head. "She said that if she was arrested the queen would die. Something like that."

"Did she mention that the queen would die without her care?"

The guard's head bobbed up and down. "Oh yes! That too!" A look of puzzlement wrinkled his face. "Were you there, my lord? I don't remember seeing you."

"No. I just guessed." I turned around.

Kneeling in front of Isabo, Eva was scrutinizing the young woman's bruised face as if hoping she could read something in her features—the truth, I suppose.

I approached them and crouched beside Eva.

"What do you think is the matter with her, Amir?"

One look at Isabo's empty eyes was enough for me to know what possessed her. Still, I leaned forward and touched her hand to make sure. The jolt of energy that rushed through me was so strong that for an instant I thought I had been kicked in the belly by one of the guards. Gasping for air, I rapidly pulled away from Isabo. Once I had regained my breath, I saw that Eva was examining me attentively. A definite expression of concern was imprinted on her lovely features.
So she still cares a little about me,
I thought, rejoicing.

"What is it, Amir?" Eva asked.

"Isabo—she's bewitched."

Eva's eyes flew to Isabo then back to me. "How . . . and who did it?"

Shaking my head in response, I stared at Isabo. "I think the important question is why."

I crawled closer to her, and peering deeply into her seemingly dead eyes, I whispered, "You knew, didn't you? You figured it out, so you needed to be dealt with, to be disgraced . . . but most of all, you needed to be shut up."

Rising to my feet, I began a thorough inspection of the cell. I was determined to examine every speck on the ground, every scratch on the walls—everything.

Eva joined me by the cot at the back of the cell. "Amir, what are you doing?"

"Shhh . . . " I made, while dusting a suspect spot on the wall.

"Don't shush me! Tell me what's going on instead." By the firmness of her tone, I knew Eva would not give up until she learned the aim of my search. She could be very headstrong at times. Of all her flaws, that one was probably my favorite.

I smiled. "Listen. The guard mentioned that Isabo became entranced only after she was brought here, therefore there must be something in this cell that set it off."

The look of confusion plastered on Eva's face told me that she didn't truly grasp the workings of magic. So I explained in more specific details. "Spells can be set like traps, across doorsteps and thresholds and—" I rushed to the gate and began inspecting every single bar it possessed until my hands were red with rust. I found nothing on the bars. Well, there were quantities of scratches on them but no tingling, no strange sensation whatsoever. So it wasn't the gate after all. Still, it had to be near the entrance. I searched the nearby surroundings for some minute clues I might have previously missed and came up with none. Besides the loaf of bread and the bowl of water, with its raindrop decoration, there was nothing here.

"Amir, come see this," called Eva.

I was surprised to see that Eva wasn't at my side anymore. I looked around and found her once more kneeling in front of Isabo. Eva gently lifted one of Isabo's hands. "Look at this, Amir. Look at her nails."

Actually, Isabo had almost no nails left; they were all broken and worn down to the quick.

"How fast do spells usually work?" asked Eva.

"No idea."

"Can someone fight a spell?"

I stared at Isabo. "Maybe if that person has some knowledge of magic."

Eva stood up and surveyed the cell. "If I was thrown in here, my first impulse would be to hide in a corner." She pointed to the right. "That dark one!"

We both walked to the somber corner and began inspecting it. A small dark line at the bottom of the wall caught my eye. I bent down and after a careful examination saw that it was part of a drawing. Half of it was etched in the stone. The other half was drawn in blood. There seemed to be two separate designs. To me, the first drawing looked like a square with a circle beside it. The other one was made up of three undulating lines depicting water or waves with a stick figure above it.

"Do you understand what these represent?" asked Eva.

"Hard to tell what she meant by these."

"Why not write instead?"

I sighed. "I'm assuming that the spell was beginning to take effect and drawing might have been all she could do." I closed my eyes and tried picturing the scene.
Isabo suddenly finds herself unable to speak. She knows she is being bewitched and panics. She tries to write, but her hand cannot form letters. So she draws what she can—quickly.

I opened my eyes and stared back at the drawing. I noticed two very pale lines I didn't see before. They were sticking out from under the square . . . like legs. "Legs? Hmm, a square with legs. What about that circle beside it?" I rubbed my beard.

"A lake," suggested Eva.

"No. Doesn't look right. It looks more like a corral or a fenced enclosure—OH!" The answer suddenly came to me. I knew the meaning of that drawing. It was so simple! In my excitement, I seized Eva by the shoulders and pulled her toward me. "The square with the legs, I know what it is. I do! It's the Baba Yaga's house. The peasants told me that the Baba often stole children. She's the one who kidnapped your sisters. " I pointed at the drawing. "And that's where we need to go."

Eva, why are we coming here?" I asked as we entered the conservatory. "The Baba lives in the woods. What we need are coats, not flowers."

In a swirl of black taffeta and frilly petticoats, Eva faced me. "You're wrong, Amir. We do need flowers."

That's it,
I thought,
grief has rendered her insane
. "Flowers . . . really?"

"Yes, flowers! For the Baba. As a gift for her."

"Huh? Witches like flowers, I didn't know that."

Eva cast me a stare so dark it made me wish I had kept my mouth shut. But as she stared at me I watched her frustration and anger wane and an apologetic smile make its way to her lips. "Forgive me, Amir. These last days have been trying for me. Lars's state and Father's urgency to remarry don't help the situation. I fear my nerves are a little frayed."

"No need to worry, Eva. I understand. I heard that your father is going to propose to Countess Ivana. What do you think of it?"

Eva shrugged. "It's a good choice. I'm glad he picked her; I just wish he'd wait a little longer before getting remarried. Mother hasn't been gone a week yet. . . . "

Not finding anything to say on that subject, I just held her hand. "Now, can you explain to me why we need the flowers?"

"First, I need to see if we actually have them." This being said, Eva dashed across the lush greenery of the conservatory.

I followed without arguing. Soon we were leaving the jungle of exotic plants and entering the rose garden. Eva stopped at its edge and scanned the shrubs.

I pointed to the bush on my left. "Those red ones are stunning. I'm sure she'll like them."

Eva turned around. "No she won't! Worse, she'll kill us!"

"But how can you be so sure of this?"

"Amir, you must trust me on this. I know what I'm doing. I have known about the Baba since childhood. My nanny used to tell me stories about her." She paused and plucked one of the red roses I had shown her. Caressing the flower's velvety petal, Eva said, "As lovely as it is, this rose won't do, Amir. There's only one way of gaining the Baba Yaga's help, and that's by bringing her a blue rose. The legend says that she makes a rejuvenating tea out of its petals. It is also said that the Baba sometimes helps the kindhearted. So I thought that perhaps if I give her the roses, she'd release my sisters."