The Queen's Poisoner

He nodded shyly.

She started shaking her hands around excitedly. “We’re going to have so much fun together! There’s a secret part of the grounds. The cistern. Have you found it yet?”

He stared at her in surprise. “What’s a cistern?”

She grinned. “It’s like a well, except it catches rainwater from the clouds, not from underground streams. Grandpapa showed me the wall blocking it. He said it’s the only place I can’t go. Which makes me want to go there even more!”

“Won’t we get in trouble?” Owen asked.

She waved a hand dismissively. “I sneak around all the time. So I have to tell you the story of Bletchley. Don’t you just hate his name? Bletchley. It’s like you’re throwing up. If your family name was Bletchley, I wouldn’t marry you. Kiskaddon, I love! It’s not as good as Mortimer, but good enough. Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer Kiskaddon.” She shivered with delight. “Oh yes, Bletchley! He was nothing but a lying guttersnipe! He tricked Uncle Severn into giving him control of the Espion, which meant he got control of the princes. Then he made them disappear. And who gets the blame? Severn gets the blame. It was a nasty bit of work, I tell you. A cruel trick. Bletchley killed the princes, and that’s why Severn executed him for treason. Everyone thinks the king did it, but he didn’t.” She looked into his eyes and then, much more gently, reached for his hand. “You were worried that the king was going to put you to death, but my grandpapa thinks you’ll be all right, and I believe him. Do you see why now? The king is upset that his nephews died. He didn’t want it to happen. Remember, his motto is ‘Loyalty Binds Me.’ He took that motto to heart.”

Owen was not sure what to think. One thing he knew. The Mortimer girl knew much more than he did. His parents had told him next to nothing about the families of the realm and the troubles between them. He knew his father had gone off to war again because the king had summoned him. He had been surprised to learn that his father was considered a traitor to the king.

How was he supposed to discover what was true and what was tale? Everyone believed the coins vanished from the fountains and granted wishes. But just because they believed it, didn’t make it true.

“Goodnight, Owen Kiskaddon!” Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer whispered suddenly, stooping to kiss him on the cheek. And with that, she scampered off the bed and vanished out the door.

The following day, the Mortimer girl took Owen on a grand exploration of the grounds. Jewel was not pleased with her and kept demanding they stop and rest, but the girl paid her no mind whatsoever. Grabbing Owen’s hand, she led him on a merry romp toward the secret part of the grounds, leaving their elderly guardian lagging behind.

Owen had passed the nondescript wall before and thought nothing of it, but as she brought him closer, she pointed out how different it was from the adjoining structure. There were not any vines, and little moss on it either, which spoke to the fact that it was a new construction.

“My grandpapa said the cistern is just past it,” she said eagerly. “I haven’t figured out a way to get over it yet, but I think if we had a view from that tower,” she said, pointing up at Ankarette’s tower, “we’d be able to find a way in there.” She pressed her palms against the stone wall, as if she hoped to topple it over. “I think there’s another way inside—a door maybe. I’ve been trying to find a way into that tower, you know, but no one can help me.”

Owen swallowed guiltily, for he knew the way to the tower and he had no doubt that Ankarette knew the secret of the forbidden wall. He was itching to ask her.

When Jewel finally caught up to them, sputtering for breath, the Mortimer girl grabbed Owen’s hand and dragged him away at a run to escape her. It was like playing the seeking game, only better.

After sundown, he waited a long time before sneaking to the tower. He wanted to make sure that his adventure would go unnoticed by his new companion, so he stole into the secret passages and made his way to the Mortimer girl’s chamber. He watched from a secret panel on the wall as Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer built a little fort out of chairs and blankets, with only a stubby candle for light. Suspecting she’d be occupied for a while, Owen stole up to the tower.

When he entered the room, Ankarette was lying on the bed, clutching her middle. She looked tired and uncomfortable and he could see she was in no mood to play Wizr.

“Hello, Owen,” she greeted, her voice weak. “I left the tea for you on the table.” He nestled by the edge of the bed, his stomach growling at the sight of the nearby tray of uneaten food. He was always hungry.