Either way, the box started playing music – a peppy little symphony. It’s a good thing Folsom wasn’t there, otherwise he would have begun to ‘dance.’
‘Hey, how’d you do that?’ Prince Rikers asked. ‘Amazing!’
Bastille regarded me quizzically. I set the music box down, and it continued to play for a time, powered by the charge I’d given it.
‘I’m starting to think that Oculatory Lenses and regular technological glass might just be the same thing.’
‘That’s impossible,’ she said. ‘If that were so, then you could power Oculator’s Lenses with brightsand.’
‘You can’t?’
She shook her head.
‘Maybe it’s not concentrated enough,’ I said. ‘You can power the Lenses with Smedry blood, if you forge them using it.’
‘Ick,’ she noted. ‘It’s true. But ick anyway.’
‘Ah, here we are!’ Rikers said suddenly, standing up as the pig slowed.
I shot Bastille a look. She shrugged; we’d discuss this more later. We stood and joined Rikers, looking out the window (or, well, the wall) at the approaching gardens. My sense of urgency returned. We needed to grab Himalaya and get back to the Royal, nonlibrary Archives.
Rikers pulled a lever, and the back of the pig unfolded, forming steps. Bastille and I rushed out, Sing hustling along behind. The Royal Gardens were a large, open field of grass dotted occasionally by beds of flowers. I scanned the green, trying to locate my cousin. Of course, Bastille found him first.
‘There,’ she said, pointing. Squinting, I could see that Folsom and Himalaya were sitting on a blanket, enjoying what appeared to be a picnic.
‘Wait here!’ I called to Sing and Rikers as Bastille and I crossed the springy grass, passing families enjoying the afternoon and kids playing.
‘What in the world are those two doing?’ I asked, looking at Folsom and Himalaya.
‘Uh, I think that’s called a picnic, Smedry,’ Bastille said flatly.
‘I know, but why would Folsom take an enemy spy on a picnic? Perhaps he’s trying to get her to relax so he can mine her for information.’
Bastille regarded the two of them, who sat on the blanket enjoying their meal. ‘So, wait,’ she said as we rushed forward. ‘They’re always together?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘He’s been watching her like a hawk. He’s always looking at her.’
‘You’d say he’s been spending a lot of time with her?’
‘A suspicious amount of time.’
‘Hanging out at restaurants?’
‘Ice cream parlors,’ I said. ‘He claims to be showing her around so that she’d get used to Nalhallan customs.’
‘And you think he’s doing this because he suspects her of being a spy,’ Bastille said, voice almost amused.
‘Well, why else would he—’
I froze, stopping on the grass. Just ahead, Himalaya laid her hand on Folsom’s shoulder, laughing at something he’d said. He regarded her, seeming transfixed by her face. He seemed to be enjoying himself, as if . . .
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘Boys are such idiots,” Bastille said under her breath, moving on.
‘How was I supposed to know they were in love!” I snapped, rushing up to her.
‘Idiot,’ she repeated.