Shirley Murphy - The Catswold Portal

But the wardrobe wall was smooth. She felt its floor. He must have twenty pairs of boots. She moved each pair, felt under it then put it back. She whispered all the opening spells she knew, but no part of the wardrobe stirred. She was standing on tiptoe, feeling beneath the upper shelf, when behind her the chamber door creaked open.

The king did not seem surprised to see her there. He shut and bolted the door, and with a flick of his hand he made the mantel lamp burn. “My dear, this is a much better place for a tryst. How clever of you.” He took her hands and drew her close; she held herself very still.

He kissed her lightly. “I will do nothing you do not wish, my Melissa. But I can see in your eyes that you do wish it.” He stroked her cheek. “Have you ever made love, sweet Melissa?”

She felt as nervous and spell-cast as a trapped beast. Her mind spun and fought, and still she stood frozen. He watched her knowingly, but then he released her and moved away.

He poured wine from the decanter on the mantel and handed her a goblet. “You did not come to join me in bed, sweet Melissa. What were you looking for?” Looking into his eyes was like swimming in black seas. As his look changed from heat to suspicion, she wanted to bolt out the door.

He said, “It takes a lot of nerve to search the chambers of royalty.” He drew his hand down her cheek, letting it rest on her shoulder. “You are of value to the queen, Melissa. Surely you know that. Just as you are of value to me.” He stroked the back of her neck. His touch was uncomfortably soft; she flinched with an almost animal repugnance.

“Why…” She choked. “Why should I be of value to the queen?”

He drew her close again, stirring her desire despite her repugnance. “How old are you, Melissa?”

“Seventeen.”

“And where do you come from?”

“From Appian.”

He smiled. “You do not need to tell me the lies you tell the queen. And, of course, she does not believe you. Melissa—do you remember your mother?”

“Of course I remember her. Why would you ask about my mother?”

“Perhaps we can make a bargain.” He began to unbutton her dress.

She moved away. “You—could have any girl in the kingdom.”

“Why should I have any girl, when I can have the loveliest? Melissa…” He drew her close and kissed her throat.

“If you breed me a healthy heir, Melissa, by the laws of the Netherworld you will be the new queen of Affandar.” Again he smiled, his look too intent. “If you were queen of Affandar, Melissa, what would you do?”

Excitement gripped her suddenly with the heady challenge. If she were queen of Affandar, she could free the peasants. She could free other nations, and dethrone Siddonie’s puppet kings. She stared at him, mute.

He said, “Do you know that Siddonie fears you?”

She laughed.

“Do you call me a liar?”

“No.”

He moved to the mantel to refill his glass, then turned, watching her. “Siddonie and I are locked in battle for Affandar. All the kingdom knows that. Siddonie would destroy me if she could. She wants no one to share her rule.

“You, Melissa—she sees in you the power to help her enslave Affandar and enslave the Netherworld.”

“I don’t understand. She mistakes me for something I am not.”

“No, she sees truly. She would use you to enslave Affandar. But, Melissa, together you and I could defeat her.”

She watched him intently, convinced that he wasn’t lying and that this man could tell her all the secrets that had been locked away from her.

“Tell me, Melissa…Tell me what you remember of your childhood.”

“The usual things. Working in the garden, caring for the sheep, collecting honey, learning to ride the pony—”

“Stop it. What do you really remember?” He held her shoulders hard, searching her face. “What do you remember? If you really remember nothing, why were you searching for the Harpy’s mirror?”

“What is the Harpy’s mirror?” she said dumbly.

He shook his head. “I can see it in your eyes. You do not lie very well. You have been to the Harpy in the cellars. She begged you to steal her mirror. What,” Efil said softly, “would you trade for the Harpy’s mirror, my Melissa?” He began again to caress her; he was so changeable, emotions danced and flickered across his face. She felt there was no real core to him, no one person. He stroked her throat, kissed her neck, until she pulled away. He turned from her, folding back the velvet bed cover, revealing dark satin sheets. He said, “Afterward, I will give you the Harpy’s mirror.”

“Give me the mirror first.”

He only looked at her.

She looked back steadily. He might be selfish and quickly enraged, but underneath she sensed that he was weak. She said, “The mirror first.”

“Your promise to come to my bed?”

“My promise.”

He opened the wardrobe and pulled aside jackets and breeches, whispering a sharp, short spell—one she had never heard before. A panel slid away revealing a small cupboard. He took from within a mirror no bigger than her hand. It was oval, its platinum frame jeweled with opals and topaz and moonstones flashing in the lamplight. He placed it in her hands; it was surprisingly heavy. But it gave back no reflection. She could not see her face, or Efil’s. Across its clear surface ran one fleeting shadow deep within, then its surface burned clear.

He said, “Did the Harpy promise to give you visions for this?”

“She—she did.”

“You have the mirror. Now come to bed.”

“Wait,” she whispered.

His rage flared; he took her shoulders. “You will not take the mirror from this chamber until you have paid for it.”

“That was my promise. But I cannot promise you a healthy child until the woman-spells are complete.” She held the mirror tightly. “If you force me to bed too soon, there will be little chance of a healthy child.”

Anger flashed in his eyes, and then uncertainty. “You can’t think…”

A noise from the solar stopped him. He froze, listening to movement in the next room. She panicked, not knowing where to run. He pushed her toward the draperies and behind them. “She’s in the solar. Stay hidden.” He straightened the heavy draperies, hiding her. She stood in darkness that smelled of dust from the thick velvet, her heart pounding, clutching the Harpy’s mirror. She heard the chamber door open and close, then silence, and knew he had gone out to distract Siddonie. For the first time she was thankful for Siddonie’s presence.

Chapter 14

From behind the draperies Melissa listened to the queen’s muffled voice in the next chamber, heard the king reply to some question, then the queen snapped irritably at him. Slipping the mirror inside her bodice Melissa moved out from the draperies. Pressing against the door, she listened.

“…be a fool,” Siddonie was saying, “of course she is. You had a colossal nerve to approach her. And in public. Everyone saw you. Briccha has orders to confine her to the scullery. I have instructed the guards not to let her out of the palace. If you—”

“And I suppose you will put her in the dungeons,” he interrupted.

“And what of it?”

“You’ll never train her if you lock her up. She will be no use to you.”

“And she will be no use to you,” Siddonie said coldly.

“Don’t you understand that she would bring them all here, that they would destroy Affandar!” Another pause, then the queen’s voice came closer. Melissa fled to the draperies. Behind them, she opened the glass door and slipped out onto the balcony. She had a leg over the rail, searching for a foothold in the vines, when she saw three guards below and drew back.