too rich.
The memories were too painful.
Everything reminded her of her father. She kept thinking she could catch a hint of his smell, the sound of his movements. Once, in the night, she thought she heard the low gurgle of his laughter.
She could see the bloodstain on the carpet, even though the servants had scrubbed out every particle, then, at her insistence, replaced the floor covering completely. But tradition dictated the replacement was the same colour and pattern and the bloodstain was still there, spreading liquidly in her mind.
The Queen must live in the Imperial Suite: that was tradition too. But she needed to think. How could she be expected to think when she saw her father everywhere she turned? She had to get away.
On impulse she triggered the secret panel Comma discovered during the few days he played at being Emperor. It opened on to a passageway that had offered an emergency escape to Emperors down the generations. In the old days they'd been fleeing for their lives. She was running from a ghost. Blue stepped inside and the panel closed behind her.
The passageway emerged on the edge of the Imperial Island beside the broad sweep of the river. It was growing dark now and she sat on some rocks watching the lights come on across the city. Closer to hand, torchlit traffic was milling over Loman Bridge. There were tens of thousands of her subjects out there and she'd never felt so alone. A wrong decision could leave so many of them dead. What was she going to do? What was the right thing to do?
A large patch of moss slipped off the rock beside her and splatted on the ground with an audible thump. 'Damn!' it muttered crossly.
Blue was on her feet in an instant, one hand scrabbling in the folds of her dress for the lethal little stimlus she kept as her last line of defence. It was stupid, stupid, stupid not to have alerted the guards where she was going, but she still wasn't accustomed to being Queen.
'Is that you, Blue?'
She strained her eyes in the half-light. The voice was terribly familiar. 'Flapwazzle?' She blinked. 'Flapwazzle?'
'I cannot tell a lie,' Flapwazzle said truthfully. He began to undulate across the ground towards her.
For some reason the burdens of State responsibility fell away and she felt a small bubble of delight welling in her stomach. 'What are you doing out here?'
'Gathering the omron? It was something endolgs did at sunset. Blue had never really understood it. Flapwazzle said, 'When I was full, I fell asleep. Didn't think I'd find you here. Or anybody, really.'
Her problems came flooding back. 'I was trying to make up my mind about something.'
She thought he might ask her what - and wasn't sure she could tell him - but he only said, 'Must be tricky being Queen.'
It was almost funny. That was the very word for it -tricky. Not one of her courtiers or advisors would have used it, but that was the word exactly. For the first time in days she actually grinned.
'That's it, Flapwazzle. As tricky as it gets.' How did you decide what your uncle was up to? Tricky. How did you choose between war and peace? Tricky.
A thought occurred to her and flared into a rising excitement. 'Flapwazzle, would you do something for me?' she blurted. She couldn't order him - not that she would have anyway. Endolgs weren't strictly speaking her subjects, which may have been why she hadn't thought of something so obvious before.
'Sure,' Flapwazzle said at once.
Some of her initial excitement died, replaced at once by worry. 'It could be dangerous.'
Flapwazzle had draped himself over one of her feet, keeping it so warm she wished he'd move on to the other one as well. 'Danger is my middle name,' he said. Then added quickly, 'Just a metaphor, of course. Something I picked up somewhere. I don't actually have a middle name and if I did it certainly wouldn't be anything as pretentious as Danger.' He wriggled slightly. Endolgs lacked the capacity to lie, so metaphors were difficult for
The memories were too painful.
Everything reminded her of her father. She kept thinking she could catch a hint of his smell, the sound of his movements. Once, in the night, she thought she heard the low gurgle of his laughter.
She could see the bloodstain on the carpet, even though the servants had scrubbed out every particle, then, at her insistence, replaced the floor covering completely. But tradition dictated the replacement was the same colour and pattern and the bloodstain was still there, spreading liquidly in her mind.
The Queen must live in the Imperial Suite: that was tradition too. But she needed to think. How could she be expected to think when she saw her father everywhere she turned? She had to get away.
On impulse she triggered the secret panel Comma discovered during the few days he played at being Emperor. It opened on to a passageway that had offered an emergency escape to Emperors down the generations. In the old days they'd been fleeing for their lives. She was running from a ghost. Blue stepped inside and the panel closed behind her.
The passageway emerged on the edge of the Imperial Island beside the broad sweep of the river. It was growing dark now and she sat on some rocks watching the lights come on across the city. Closer to hand, torchlit traffic was milling over Loman Bridge. There were tens of thousands of her subjects out there and she'd never felt so alone. A wrong decision could leave so many of them dead. What was she going to do? What was the right thing to do?
A large patch of moss slipped off the rock beside her and splatted on the ground with an audible thump. 'Damn!' it muttered crossly.
Blue was on her feet in an instant, one hand scrabbling in the folds of her dress for the lethal little stimlus she kept as her last line of defence. It was stupid, stupid, stupid not to have alerted the guards where she was going, but she still wasn't accustomed to being Queen.
'Is that you, Blue?'
She strained her eyes in the half-light. The voice was terribly familiar. 'Flapwazzle?' She blinked. 'Flapwazzle?'
'I cannot tell a lie,' Flapwazzle said truthfully. He began to undulate across the ground towards her.
For some reason the burdens of State responsibility fell away and she felt a small bubble of delight welling in her stomach. 'What are you doing out here?'
'Gathering the omron? It was something endolgs did at sunset. Blue had never really understood it. Flapwazzle said, 'When I was full, I fell asleep. Didn't think I'd find you here. Or anybody, really.'
Her problems came flooding back. 'I was trying to make up my mind about something.'
She thought he might ask her what - and wasn't sure she could tell him - but he only said, 'Must be tricky being Queen.'
It was almost funny. That was the very word for it -tricky. Not one of her courtiers or advisors would have used it, but that was the word exactly. For the first time in days she actually grinned.
'That's it, Flapwazzle. As tricky as it gets.' How did you decide what your uncle was up to? Tricky. How did you choose between war and peace? Tricky.
A thought occurred to her and flared into a rising excitement. 'Flapwazzle, would you do something for me?' she blurted. She couldn't order him - not that she would have anyway. Endolgs weren't strictly speaking her subjects, which may have been why she hadn't thought of something so obvious before.
'Sure,' Flapwazzle said at once.
Some of her initial excitement died, replaced at once by worry. 'It could be dangerous.'
Flapwazzle had draped himself over one of her feet, keeping it so warm she wished he'd move on to the other one as well. 'Danger is my middle name,' he said. Then added quickly, 'Just a metaphor, of course. Something I picked up somewhere. I don't actually have a middle name and if I did it certainly wouldn't be anything as pretentious as Danger.' He wriggled slightly. Endolgs lacked the capacity to lie, so metaphors were difficult for
Similar Books
