Prince Dain gifted me the uniform, knowing I could walk in as I had done. He was counting on my ability to lie for the rest. But now that I am inside, I hope there is something in Hollow Hall to find.
Which means that no matter how frightened I am, I must pay attention.
Along the wall are more books, some of them familiar from Madoc’s library. I pause in front of a shelf, frowning, and kneel down. Stuffed into a corner is a copy of a book I know but didn’t expect to see here in this place—Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, bound together in one volume. Mom read to us from one a lot like that back in the mortal world.
Opening the book, I see the familiar illustrations and then the words:
“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked.
“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.”
“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.
“You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.”
A bubble of scary laughter threatens to rise up my throat, and I have to bite my cheek to keep it from coming.
The human girl is kneeling in front of a huge fireplace, sweeping up ash from the grate. The andirons, shaped like enormous curling serpents, flank her, their glass eyes ready to glow with lit flames.
Although it’s ridiculous, I can’t bear to put the book back. It isn’t one Vivi packed, and I haven’t seen it since my mother read it at bedtime. I stuff it down the front of my dress.
Then I go to the wardrobe and open it, seeking some clue, some valuable piece of information. But as soon as I look inside, a wild panic starts in my chest. I am instantly sure whose room I am in. Those are Prince Cardan’s extravagant doublets and breeches, Prince Cardan’s gaudy, fur-edged capelets and spider-silk shirts.
Done sweeping up ash in the fireplace, the servant girl stacks new wood into a pyramid with aromatic pine for kindling resting on top.
I want to push by her and run from Hollow Hall. I had assumed that Cardan lived in the palace with his father, the High King. It didn’t occur to me that he might live with one of his brothers. I remember Dain and Balekin drinking together at the last Court revel. I hope desperately that this wasn’t arranged to humiliate me further, to give Cardan another excuse—or worse, opportunity—to punish me more.
I will not believe it. Prince Dain, about to be crowned the High King, does not have time to indulge in the petty sport of pretending to take me into his service just because a callow younger brother wishes it. He would not set a geas on me or bargain with me just for that. I must continue to believe it, because the alternative is too awful.
All this means is that besides Prince Balekin, I must avoid Prince Cardan on my way through the house. Either of them might recognize me if they glimpsed my face. I must make sure they do not glimpse it.
Probably they will not look too closely. No one looks too closely at human servants.
Realizing I am not so different, I force myself to notice the pattern of moles on the human girl’s skin and the split ends of her blond hair and the roughness of her knees. I watch how she sways a little as she pushes to her feet; her body’s clearly exhausted, even if her brain doesn’t know it.
If I see her again, I want to know I would recognize her.
But it does no good, undoes no spell. She continues her tasks, smiling the same awful, contented smile. When she leaves the room, I head in the opposite direction. I must find Balekin’s private rooms, find his secrets, and then get out.
I open doors carefully, peering inside. I discover two bedrooms, both under a thick layer of dust, one with a figure lying under a cobwebby shroud on the bed. I pause for a moment, trying to decide if it’s a statue or a corpse or even some kind of living thing, then I realize this has nothing to do with my mission and back out quickly. I open another door to find several faeries twined together on a bed, asleep. One of them blinks drowsily at me, and I catch my breath, but he just slumps back down.