Mastiff by Tamora Pierce Read Free Book Online Page B

hardly lose me here. Still, he sometimes chose to get into mischief that I had to handle later. I liked to have him under my eye.

    The damage from the fire got worse as we climbed the stairs and entered what Mistress Orielle said was the north wing. The roof there was burned away, as were parts of the inner and outer walls and chunks of the floors. Finally we had to stop. All that lay before us was a gaping hole from roof to cellar where the north wing had collapsed. I took out my mirror. Magic like cobwebs glowed in the shadows. It was this that held what remained of the floors and the walls. I put the mirror away. It was almost more frightening to see how scant the protective magic was than to know the wing itself was close to coming down.

    “Her Majesty said the body of the prince’s mage was found in the nursery,” Tunstall remarked, staring down into the mass of charred beams and flagstones. “Is it still there?”

    Mistress Orielle fluttered. “Well, no,” she explained in reply to Tunstall’s question. “All of the bodies, including Fea’s, were brought out right away. Fea of Seabeth,” she added, as if that helped us any.

    “So there are no dead actually here,” Tunstall said.

    “We could hardly
leave
them in the cellar. We
were
searching for His Highness,” Mistress Orielle said, lips trembling.

    It was my turn to move in. “Tunstall, she’s been through a bad time,” I scolded, keeping my voice soft. Tunstall and I worked this manner of questioning all of the time. I took her by the arm and gently turned her away from the men. Achoo did her part by looking sad as she nudged Mistress Orielle’s elbow in a comforting way. “Do any of his belongings remain down there, Mistress Orielle?” I asked, trying to speak as if we’d been educated at the same school. “Could you tell if they were taken, or destroyed in the fire?”

    “Oh, no, they were burned as far as I could tell,” she said. “The gold rattle from Prince Baird, the crystal orb from my lady of Cavall—or was it my lady of Coa’s Wood?—all of the expensive things were taken, but his clothespresses burned, and his everyday toys.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t understand how this could happen,” she said as she took out a better handkerchief than I could offer. “This place has been magicked and remagicked against all kinds of disaster. The Chancellor of Mages renewed the spells before Her Majesty brought Prince Gareth here at the beginning of May!”

    Master Farmer had taken a lens that hung on a chain around his neck and was using it to view the ruins. “I hope you didn’t pay him good coin,” he said. “Or even bad coin.”

    “What do you mean?” Mistress Orielle asked sharply.

    Master Farmer tucked the lens inside the front of his tunic. Gone was his foolery when he spoke. “The spells all around us are shredded, Mistress Clavynger—apply your own spell if you doubt me. If the Lord Chancellor did anything while he was here, it was damage, not strengthening. If the attackers came up from the seacoast, it was because he destroyed the concealment spells on the cliffs, the paths, and the gates.”

    She stared at him, jaw agape. Was she vexed because he had dared to criticize a mage of much higher rank? Or did she see, as I had, that he’d just accused the realm’s chief mage of the worst kind of treason? Master Farmer shrugged. “It stands to reason you have secret paths down to the beaches,” he said. “Why have a seaside palace if you never go down to bathe?”

    “Blessed mother defend us, the king must be told!” Mistress Orielle turned and raced down the hall.

    “Since you’ve put the cat in with the pigeons, you’d best go explain to Their Majesties how it got there,” Tunstall told Master Farmer. “
We’re
not speaking for you.
We
didn’t say that their big mage left them open to murder. For all you know, she’s going to say that you’re a fool and don’t belong in this