‘If you were a Prisoner you’d have guessed. Incarceron never loses. It shed the skin from its claw and vanished. But Sapphique took the skin and made a glove and used it to cover his maimed hand. The story says when he put it on he knew all the Prison’s secrets.’
‘Including the way Out?’
‘Presumably.’
‘So why did Attia mention it?’
‘Why did Keiro try to stop her mentioning it, rather?’ Jared’s voice was thoughtful. He glanced at Finn. ‘Keiro’s anger troubles you.’
‘I hate him like that.’
‘It will pass.’
‘I’m more worried about what happened to cut them off.’ Claudia glanced at Jared, who nodded.
As they reached the cobbled entrance the noise of the clattering hooves drowned talk. They rode under three gateways and through the vast Barbican with its murder—
holes and portcullis. The vaguely medieval arrowslits were not Era, of course, but the Queen thought them picturesque.
They had always made the Warden tut with displeasure.
Beyond, the green fields of the Realm stretched out in their morning beauty. Claudia breathed a sigh of relief. She grinned at Finn. ‘Let’s gallop.’ He nodded. ‘Race you up the hill.’ It was a joy to be riding, and free of the Court. She urged the horse on, and the breeze lifted her hair, and the sky was blue and sunlit. On all sides in the golden fields birds sang among the corn; as the lanes divided and narrowed vast hedges rose on each side, the deep tracks hollowed with apparent age. She had no idea how much of this landscape was real — certainly some of the birds, and the hosts of butterflies . . . surely they were real. In truth, if they weren’t, she didn’t want to know. Why not accept the illusion, just for one day?
The three of them slowed on the top of a small hill and gazed back at the Court. Its towers and pinnacles earned in the sun. Bells were ringing, and the glass roof shone like diamond.
Jared sighed. ‘It’s strange how beguiling illusion can be.’
‘You always told me to beware of it,’ Claudia said.
‘So you should. As a society we have lost the ability to tell the real from the fake. Most of the Court, at least, don’t even care which is which. It concerns the Sapienti greatly.’
‘Maybe they should enter the Prison,’ Finn muttered. ‘We never had any trouble.’ Jared glanced at Claudia, and they both thought of the watch, which she wore now, safe in her deepest pocket.
It was two leagues to the fringes of the Forest, and almost midday when they approached it.
The road to this point had been broad and well-used — traffic between the Court and the western villages was steady, and the ruts of wheels had cut deep in the baked mud.
But once under the green canopy the trees gradually closed in, and vast deer-nibbled boughs of mighty oaks gave way to the tangled undergrowth of the wildwood. Branches hung heavily overhead, the sky barely seen through their meshed leaves.
Finally they came to the crossroads and the track that branched off to the Academy. It ran downhill through a green clearing, crossed a stream on a clapperbridge and wound its way up the other side into the wood again.
Jared stopped. ‘I’ll go on from here alone, Claudia.’
‘Master . . .‘
‘You need to get back. Finn must be there for the investigation.’
‘I don’t see the point,’ Finn growled.
‘It’s vital. You have no memories, so you must impress them by your personality. By the strength you have, Finn.’ Finn gazed at him. ‘I don’t know I have any, Master.’
‘I believe you do.’ Jared smiled, calmly. ‘Now, I ask you to look after Claudia, while I’m gone.’ Finn raised an eyebrow and Claudia snapped, ‘I can look after myself.’
‘And you must look after him. I depend on both of you.’
‘Don’t worry about us, Master.’ Claudia leant over and kissed him. He smiled, and turned the horse, but she saw how under his calm there was a tension as if this separation meant more than she knew.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘Sorry?’
‘For going.’ She shook her head. ‘You’ll only be a few days.’
‘I did what I could.’ His eyes were dark in the forest shadows. ‘Remember me kindly, Claudia.’ She suddenly had nothing to say. A chill struck her; she wanted to stop him, to call after him, but he had urged the horse and it was already striding away down the lane.
Only when he had reached the bridge did she stand in the stirrups and yell, ‘Write to me!’
‘He’s too far Firm muttered, but Jared turned and waved his hand.
‘His hearing is excellent,’ she said, foolishly proud.
They watched until the dark horse and its slim rider disappeared under the eaves of the wood. Then Finn sighed.
‘Come on. We should get back.’ They rode slowly and silent. Claudia was moody; Finn barely spoke. Neither of them wanted to think about the Pretender, or what decision the Council would come to.
Finally Finn looked up. ‘It’s darker. Isn’t it?’ The slants of sunlight that had lit the Forest earlier had gone. Instead clouds had gathered, and the breeze had become a wind, threshing high branches.
‘There’s no storm ordered. Wednesday’s the Queen’s archery day.’
‘Well, it looks like a storm to me. Maybe it’s real weather.’
‘There is no real weather, Finn. This is the Realm.’ But in ten minutes rain began. It came as a pattering and was suddenly a torrent, lashing with tremendous noise through the leaves. Claudia thought of Jared and said, ‘He’ll be soaked?
‘So will we!’ Finn glanced around. ‘Come on. Hurry!’ They galloped. The ground was already soft; the hooves splashed into puddles that spilled over the track. Branches whipped at Claudia’s face; her hair flew out across her eyes and plastered itself to her cheek. She shivered, unused to the cold and the wet.
‘This is all wrong. What’s going on?’ Lightning spat; from overhead the low, heavy grumble of thunder rolled down the sky. For a moment Finn knew it was the voice of Incarceron he heard, its terrible, cruel mockery, knew he had never Escaped at all. He turned and yelled, ‘We shouldn’t be under the trees. Hurry!’ They whipped the horses up and raced. Claudia felt the rain like blows in her chest; as Finn pulled ahead she shouted at him to wait, to slow down.
Only his horse replied. With a high whinny it reared, hooves kicking the air, and then to her horror it fell, crashing on one side, and he rolled from it, slamming into the ground.
‘Finn!’ she screamed.
Something slashed past her, whipping into the wood, thudding into a tree.
And then she knew it wasn’t rain, or lightning.
It was a hail of arrows.