The Queen's Poisoner (Kingfountain, #1)(73)

His lungs burned painfully. He wanted so badly to breathe! He felt Evie’s hands slipping away. He needed to act quickly if he were to save them both. He pulled on the ring and dragged himself over the chest, so that he could plant his feet on either side of it. The chest was big, probably up to his waist. It slid a little on the ground when he jostled it, but it was too heavy to be dragged away.

Breathe.

The thought came to his mind and he started to panic. He felt he should just breathe in the water, but he knew he would die if he did. As Evie had told him, children drowned all the time. He needed air! He wedged the chest between his legs, freeing his hands, and then grabbed Evie’s arms and pulled her away from his belt. He pushed her up toward the surface, holding her by her boots. He felt the current tugging her away, but he held on fiercely, determined not to lose her.

She was screaming. Even under the water, he could hear her voice. Bits of blackness drifted in front of his eyes. He was fading. Falling asleep.

He was drowning.

He felt his muscles tingling and burning. They were near the opening where the water spilled out, he realized. A big square of light could be seen overhead. Owen felt peaceful as he stared at it. His lungs stopped burning. Everything slowed down and he felt one with the waters.

Breathe.

The thought didn’t sound so frightening now. Owen opened his mouth.

Evie was gone. He blinked in confusion. When had he let go of her? He heard the pattering of a fountain, could almost smell the scent of honeysuckle and other garden flowers. Strange that he could smell so deep underwater.

Then strong hands grabbed him beneath his arms and pulled him up. His face broke the surface and then air was suddenly filling his chest again. Delicious, yeasty air that made his bones sing.

“Up, lad! Up!” It was Mancini’s voice.

Owen spluttered dreamily and saw Evie clinging to the fat spy’s neck, her hair dripping into her face. Her dress drooped as well and she hung limply, looking too tired to move. She stared at Owen in relief and he could tell she was struggling not to cry.

Mancini hauled Owen up under his arm and started tromping back toward the stairs. The waters rushed around him, but enough had drained that it was down to his middle, and it appeared to have lost some of its power.

“Why the devil I should risk my life saving you two,” the Espion muttered darkly as he marched. “Reckless. Careless. Stupid little urchins. I thought you were a water sprite, girl, but you’re clearly not! A water sprite wouldn’t have almost got herself drowned. How did you even know about this place? It was walled off for a reason!”

Owen ignored the man’s rant and stared at the water. It was draining past Mancini’s knees now. Soon the treasure would be seen. He would prove to them it was real.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Mancini dropped Owen like a heavy sack before turning around and sitting on the steps, breathing roughly. “Too much work. This is too much. Goodness, children are always trying to kill themselves for naught. Why I should bother saving you is beyond me. We’re all wet and drippy now. Ugh!”

Evie rushed over to Owen and wrapped him in a tight hug. “How did you? How did you save us? What were you holding on to? It was like you had a boat anchor!”

“It was the treasure,” Owen gasped, wiping water from his face. He stared down at the draining cistern. The water had drained even lower than the steps.

“Treasure?” Mancini said eagerly, looking at the water.

There was nothing. Owen stepped off the stairs and searched the spot where they had originally landed. The cistern hole was above them. He kicked at the waters, splashing them, and saw nothing on the shimmering floor. Nothing.

“His wits are addled,” Mancini said, still chuffing for breath.

Owen turned and looked at Evie pleadingly. “I saw it!” he insisted. “I felt it.”

She stared at him, her face wilting. Then she rushed over and hugged him again and started to cry.





I think Ratcliffe intends to murder the boy just as the princes were murdered. When the two brats ran off, I felt uneasy about them, so I hastened to follow. They had apparently discovered the way to the palace cistern. Ratcliffe found me observing them, and when I told him what was going on, a strange gleam came to his eye and he hurried away. That made me even more uneasy, so I tried to call the children back, but they couldn’t hear me. Shortly after, I heard screaming and broke down the door. The cistern waters were being drained into the river. I saved the children, dragging both of their soggy carcasses out of that pit. It took an hour to catch my breath afterward. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it happened not long after Ratcliffe left me. And he meant, I think, to put the blame of their deaths on me. Well, two can throw the dice in a game of chance.



—Dominic Mancini, Espion of the Palace Cistern





CHAPTER THIRTY


Cursing





The entire palace was in an uproar when it was discovered that John Tunmore had escaped his cell. A search of the castle had been conducted throughout the night, and it was impossible for Owen to sleep amidst the torchlight and the racket of marching boots. His room was searched for the fugitive not once, but twice. He dared not visit Ankarette that night, for even the spy tunnels were being thoroughly searched.

The king was in such a rage that everyone was on tenterhooks. Owen and Evie were both feeling the aftereffects of the deadly peril from the previous day, and it was the first time Owen had ever known Evie to be quiet and soft-spoken. The two children stayed near each other during breakfast as the king ranted and raved, filling the air with blistering curses about the incompetence of his trusted servants, who stared at the king with open shock.