Friday was left alone all through the day, all through the moving sun and the shifting light in her windows, all through the lighting of the electric lamps and the starting of fires and through the maids that brought her dinner and expressed apologies that the Doctors were still in conference and the ones that asked if she would like to have a bath. The rooms were still and quiet as they sat darkening in spite of the lights.
The hallway was deserted but Friday wandered it anyway. Friday thought amused that if ghosts existed, surely they would haunt these quiet places. She walked and walked along the galleries that held portrait after portrait all bright and colorful against the white walls. Above the slightly open doorway at the other end of the gallery was a magnificent work that stood out from the rest even in brilliance. It showed the figures of a crowned man and woman, their faces peaceful and their hands raised in blessing and between them a magnificent red bird with a crown and holding a scepter. The lights issuing from the room beyond were dim and Friday heard voices. She pressed forward, her tread not making a sound.
“We must push them out now, while they are still manageable.” Raine’s raised voice was clear in the stillness of the gallery. “Surely you can see the necessity of that, Aurora.”
A man’s voice was the next to speak. “He has spread his evil far more quickly than we ever could have calculated. The fact that he is even here in Pyrengard is proof of that. The last time we heard of his whereabouts he was in Lampton, 400 miles south. This will be a direct attack on you.”
Friday approached near the crack on the door and saw a woman slumped in a high-backed wooden chair. She cradled her head in her hand and covered her eyes. Tiredness emanated from her every slow breath. “I will not send the soldiers against the people when they are not in their own control.”
“It is precisely because they are not in their control that you must send them away. They are dangerous,” Andis said soothingly.
“They haven’t done anything outside their rights.”
“Your majesty,” the man replied, “They are growing in number daily. When they do decide to act it may be too late to defend the palace.”
The queen removed her hand and sat up in the chair. Her black eyes revealed that she had not slept. Her air was exhausted but her tone was regal. “I will not send the soldiers against them.”
Raine was angry, “It is for your own protection—“
“I will not act against my own people,” the queen interrupted with passion, “And I must beg you not to importune me further.”
She rose and from the scraping of chairs on the floor, the rest of the company must have rose as well. Friday retreated as the queen left her chair.
“Will you at least close the gate,” Andis asked.
The footsteps halted abruptly. “That gate has not been closed in over a century. I will not be the one the shut it.”
The footsteps resumed and a door opened and closed somewhere within. Friday felt a deep disturbing at this conversation. There was something here of great importance, and she was somehow caught in the middle of it, just since this morning, when she had still been a servant at an inn.
The man sighed. “She is set in her ideas. We had better leave it be until she has rested. In the meantime, I will move the army closer to the palace, and tell them to be ready for anything.”
He walked quickly towards the gallery door. He stopped when he noticed Friday. He stared at her intensely. This, Friday thought, must be the general. His hair was still black but streaks of gray ran through it. His posture was erect and rigid.
“Who are you,” he demanded.
“Friday Moore, sir,” she answered, “Assistant to Dr Silverwind and Dr. Hawkwing.”
He looked her over before relaxing a little. “Well then, you’d better go into them. It would be wise in these times not to walk the halls at night.”
He left her to navigate the gallery which now resembled nothing so much as a long mouth waiting to swallow him up. Friday went in to the doctors.
Stumble It!
