Bitterblue - By Kristin Cashore Page 0,169

taking that job from me.

"All right," said Po. "Let's move quickly."

Brilliant light as they stepped into the corridor. They crossed to a hanging of a green wildcat, behind which they passed through another door and into more darkness. They had no lamp as they climbed the winding passage, so Po warned her of steps in the path.

Finally, they clambered out from behind another heavy hanging, into Leck's rooms. Bitterblue stumbled up the stairs. At the top, Po knocked. A key was heard to turn in the lock. When the door opened, Bitterblue fell into Helda's waiting arms.

40

THE PACKETS OF seabane were in a cabinet in her bathing room. She hadn't imagined that she would feel so—lost—the first time she swallowed those herbs down.

Back in the corridor, she pushed toward the doors.

"A bath and breakfast would do you good, Lady Queen, before you face your staff," said Helda gently. "Clean clothing. A fresh start."

"There's no such thing as a fresh start," said Bitterblue numbly.

"Do you need to see Madlen for anything, Lady Queen?"

Bitterblue wanted to see Madlen, but she didn't need to see Madlen. "I suppose not."

"Why don't I ask her here, just in case, Lady Queen?"

And so Helda and Madlen helped her soak away sweat and dirt in the bath, helped her wash her hair, took her soiled clothing and brought her fresh, clean things to wear. Madlen chatted quietly, her familiar, strange accent grounding Bitterblue. She wondered if there were signs on her body of her night with Saf, if Helda and Madlen could tell. Signs of her struggle with Thiel. She didn't mind, as long as no one asked questions. She had a vague feeling that questions would shatter her shell. "Are Bren and my guards all right?" she asked.

"They're extremely uncomfortable," said Madlen, "but they'll be fine. I'll go back to Bren later today."

"I promised Saf updates," said Bitterblue.

"Lord Giddon will check in on Sapphire after dark, Lady Queen," said Helda. "He'll convey all the news we have."

"And is Death all right?"

"Death is deeply depressed," said Madlen. "But otherwise recovering."

She didn't expect breakfast to do her any good. When it did, it was her first experience of a new kind of guilt. It shouldn't be so easy to nurture herself, her stomach should not be so comforted by food that was filling. She shouldn't want to live when Thiel had wanted to die.

IN THE INFIRMARY, her two Lienid guards seemed grateful for her visit and her thanks.

Death sat propped up in bed with a lopsided bandage around his head.

"All those books," he moaned. "Lost. Irreplaceable. Lady Queen, Madlen says I'm not to work until my head stops aching, but I believe it's aching from lack of work."

"That sounds a bit unlikely, Death," said Bitterblue gently, "seeing as you were bashed over the head. But I do understand what you mean. What work would you like?"

"The remaining journals, Lady Queen," he said fervently. "The one I was working on survived the fire, and Lord Giddon tells me that a very few others did as well. He has them. I'm dying to see them, Lady Queen. I was so close to understanding things. I believe that some of his odder and more particular renovations to the castle and city were an attempt to bring another world to life here, Lady Queen. Presumably the world he came from, with the colorful rat. I believe he was trying to turn this world into that one. And I believe that it may be a land of considerable medical advancement, which is why he was obsessed with his mad hospital."

"Death," she said quietly. "Have you ever gotten the impression, from reading about his hospital, that it was not him, but his staff, that did the hurtful things to the victims? That he often stood back and watched?"

Death's eyes narrowed. "It would explain some things, Lady Queen," he said, his eyes widening again. "He speaks sometimes of the few victims he 'kept for himself.' That could mean, couldn't it, that he shared the others, presumably with other abusers?"

"The abusers were also his victims."

"Yes, of course, Lady Queen. In fact, he speaks of 'moments when his men come to realize what they are doing.' It hadn't occurred to me until now, Lady Queen," he said morosely, "which men he was referring to, or precisely what they were doing."

At this reminder of her men, Bitterblue stood, grimly preparing herself. "I'd better go."

"Lady Queen," he said, "may I ask you for one more thing on your way?"

"Yes?"

"You—"

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