the process would take much longer, to the pleasure of the crowd at the Prisoner's Carnival.
Watching them die would be of little satisfaction to Robillard, though, if his beloved captain did not survive. He put his head in his hands, considering again that he should go to Morik and punish the man with spell after spell until he broke down and revealed the type of poison that had been used.
Camerbunne was right, Robillard knew, for he understood city thieves like Morik the Rogue. Certainly Morik hadn't brewed the poison but had merely gotten some of it from a well-paid source.
The wizard lifted his head from his hands, a look of revelation on his haggard face. He remembered the two men who had been in the Cutlass before Wulfgar and Morik had arrived, the two men who had gone to the boy who had subsequently run off to find Wulfgar and Morik, the grimy sailor and his exotic, tattooed companion. He remembered Leaping Lady, sailing out fast from Luskan's harbor. Had Wulfgar and Morik traded the barbarian's marvelous warhammer for the poison to kill Deudermont?
Robillard sprang up from his chair, not certain of where to begin, but thinking now that he was on to something important. Someone, either the pair who had signaled Deudermont's arrival, the street urchin they had paid to go get Wulfgar and Morik, or someone on Leaping Lady, knew the secrets of the poison.
Robillard took another look at his poor, bedraggled captain, so obviously near to death. He stormed out of the room, determined to get some answers.
Chapter 10 PASSAGE
Meralda walked tentatively into the kitchen the next morning, conscious of the stare her father leveled her way. She looked to her mother as well, seeking some indication that her father had told the woman about her indiscretion with Jaka the previous night. But Biaste was beaming, oblivious.
"Oh, the garden!" Biaste cried, all smiles. "Tell me about the garden. Is it as pretty as Gurdy Harkins says?"
Meralda glanced at her father. Relieved to find him smiling as well, she took her seat and moved it right beside Biaste's chair. "Prettier," she said, her grin wide. "All the colors, even in the late sun! And under the moon, though it's not shining so bright, the smells catch and hold you.
"That's not all that caught my fancy," Meralda said, forcing a cheerful voice as she launched into the news they were all waiting to hear. "Lord Feringal has asked me to marry him."
Biaste squealed with glee. Tori let out a cry of surprise, and a good portion of her mouthful of food, as well. Dohni Ganderlay slammed his hands upon the table happily.
Biaste, who could hardly get out of bed the week before, rushed about, readying herself, insisting that she had to go out at once and tell all of her friends, particularly Curdy Harkins, who was always acting so superior because she sometimes sewed dresses for Lady Priscilla.
"Why'd you come in last night so flustered and crying?" Tori asked Meralda as soon as the two were alone in their room.
"Just mind what concerns you," Meralda answered.
"You'll be living in the castle and traveling to Hundelstone and Fireshear, and even to Luskan and all the wondrous places," pressed Tori, insisting, "but you were crying. I heard you."
Eyes moistening again, Meralda glared at the girl then went back to her chores.
"It's Jaka," Tori reasoned, a grin spreading across her face. "You're still thinking about him."
Meralda paused in fluffing her pillow, moved it close to her for a moment-a gesture that revealed to Tori her guess was true-then spun suddenly and launched the pillow into Tori's face, following it with a tackle that brought her sister down on the small bed.
"Say I'm the queen!" the older girl demanded.
"You just might be," stubborn Tori shot back, which made Meralda tickle her all the more. Soon Tori could take it no more and called out "Queen! Queen!" repeatedly.
"But you are sad about Jaka," Tori said soberly a few moments later, when Meralda had gone back to fixing the bedclothes.
"I saw him last night," Meralda admitted. "On my way home. He's gone sick thinking about me and Lord Feringal."
Tori gasped and swayed, then leaned closer, hanging on every word.
"He kissed me, too."
"Better than Lord Feringal?"
Meralda sighed and nodded, closing her eyes as she lost herself in the memory of that one brief, tender moment with Jaka.
"Oh, Meralda, what're you to do?" Tori asked.
"Jaka wants me to run away with him," she answered.
Tori moaned and hugged