Uprooted - Naomi Novik Page 0,82

and one!” I flared back at him.

“And if there’s enough left of her to know when they put her child into the tree with her?” he said, unsparing, and the horror of the thought silenced me.

“That is my concern, and not yours,” Prince Marek said. We both jerked around from the table: he was standing in the doorway, silent on bare feet in his nightshift. He looked at me, and I could see the spell of false memory crumbling: he remembered me, and abruptly I, too, remembered the way his face had changed when I’d used magic in front of him, his voice when he’d said, “You’re a witch.” All along, he’d been looking for someone who would help him.

“You did this, didn’t you?” he said to me, his eyes gleaming. “I should have known this desiccated old serpent would never have put his neck out, even for so lovely a piece of work. You freed that girl.”

“We—” I stammered, darting a desperate look at the Dragon, but Marek snorted.

He came into the library, came towards me. I could see the faint scar at his hairline, where I’d battered him senseless with the heavy tray; there was a tiger of magic in my belly, ready to come out roaring. But my chest still seized up with involuntary fear. My breath came short as he neared me: if he’d come closer, if he’d touched me, I think I would have screamed—some kind of curse: a dozen of Jaga’s nastier ones were flitting through my head like fireflies, waiting to be snatched up by my tongue.

But he stopped at arm’s length and only leaned towards me. “That girl’s condemned, you know,” he said, looking at my face. “The king takes a dim view of letting wizards claim they’ve cleansed the corrupted: too many of them turn up corrupted themselves in no short order. The law says she must be put to death, and the Falcon certainly won’t testify on her behalf.”

I betrayed myself and knew it, but I couldn’t help flinching anyway. “Help me save the queen,” he added, soft and sympathetic, “and you’ll save the girl into the bargain: once the king has my mother back, he can’t fail to spare them both.”

I understood perfectly well that it was a threat, not a bribe: he was telling me he’d have Kasia put to death if I refused. I hated him even more, and yet at the same time I couldn’t hate him entirely. I had lived three dreadful months with that desperation scrabbling at me from inside; he’d lived with it since he was a child, mother torn from him, told she was gone and worse than dead and forever beyond his reach. I didn’t feel sorry for him, but I understood him.

“And once the world is spun the other way around, the sun can’t fail to rise in the west,” the Dragon snapped. “The only thing you’d accomplish is to get yourself killed, and her with you.”

The prince wheeled to face him and struck the table between them with his clenched fists, a rattling thump of candlesticks and books. “And yet you’d save some useless peasant while you leave the queen of Polnya to rot?” he snarled, the veneer cracking. He stopped and drew a deep breath, forcing his mouth back into a parody of a smile that wavered in and out on his lips. “You go too far, Dragon; even my brother won’t listen to all your whispering counsels after this. For years we’ve swallowed everything you’ve told us about the Wood—”

“Since you doubt me, take your men with you and go inside,” the Dragon hissed back. “See for yourself.”

“I will,” Prince Marek said. “And I’ll take this witch-girl of yours, and your lovely peasant, too.”

“You’ll take no one who doesn’t wish to go,” the Dragon said. “Since you were a child, you’ve imagined yourself a hero out of legend—”

“Better than a deliberate coward,” the prince said, grinning at him with all his teeth, violence like a living thing in the room taking shape between them, and before the Dragon could answer, I blurted out, “What if we could weaken the Wood before we went in?” and they broke their locked gaze and looked at me, startled, where I stood.

Krystyna’s weary face went wide and frozen when she looked past me and saw the crowd of men and wizards, gleaming armor and stamping horses. I said softly, “We’re here about Jerzy.” She gave a jerky nod without looking at

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