Claudio nods.

"Now this is the really important part. You said you knew about the other camp. But do you know who the prisoner is?"

"I expect you're about to tell me."

"Alexos, the king of Arcos."

In the dead silence that follows she hears Teo make a little noise, a quick intake of breath, then another, deeper one.

"What?" Aria asks, turning to her brother. "Do you know something about him?"

"No. The name just struck me of a sudden. Alexos. It feels familiar, but also sharp, like stepping on a thorn. That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

"I wouldn't discount anything, son. There must be some meaning in it."

"Well, there's nothing sharp about this Alexos, I a.s.sure you, Teo. He's very young, thoughtful, good of heart."

She hesitates now, worrying about what comes next. So far her father has been remarkably calm. But that's likely to change once Pyratos comes into the story.

"I had gone around to the other side of the clearing-being very quiet, Papa, very careful. I had made arrangements to speak with the king, but only after the guards were asleep-"

"Wait! You made arrangements? How could you possibly-?"

"The king has a manservant, Peles. He told the guards he was going into the forest to make water, but really he went there to talk to me."

"How did he know you were there if you were so quiet and careful?"

"I wondered that too. But Peles said he heard silence where there should have been crickets and frogs."

"This gets worse and worse!"

"It does, Papa, but not because of Peles. He told me who the prisoner was and that he was in mortal danger. I said I would like to help, but first I wanted to meet him. I also said I couldn't promise anything, that I'd have to consult with the others first. That's how I put it: the others. He doesn't know we are only three."

"Please don't drag this out, Aria. I am sick with dread waiting for the part where it gets worse."

"Well, as I said before, I had worked my way around to the other side so we could have our meeting. And I was sitting very still, waiting. Then Pyratos came into the camp. Papa, don't look at me like that! It was dark as pitch and I was well hidden behind a grove of trees. I couldn't see them, so they couldn't see me."

"Then how do you know it was Pyratos?"

"I could tell the moment he came into camp, by the way he talked. But also the guards called him 'Your Majesty.' And Alexos said, 'You are a dreadful man, Pyratos.'"

"I believe you."

"But it's what Pyratos said that's most important. And when you hear it, I'm sure you'll agree that we must rescue the king of Arcos."

"I have aged ten years just listening to this."

"All right. If Pyratos is able to leave this island and return to Ferra-which he fully expects to do-he will put the king of Arcos on trial for conspiring in the murder of a certain great n.o.bleman of Ferra. And though Alexos is innocent, he'll be found guilty all the same and executed on the spot. I heard Pyratos tell him so. He made a joke of it."

"Aria-"

"Wait, listen! This n.o.bleman was lost at sea. He was a duke. He was Pyratos' uncle."

Claudio's eyes grow wide, and for once, he is speechless.

"Papa, he is charged with your murder! And he will die for it, too, if we don't save him. Please, please, give me your permission to go to him again tonight, as I told him I would do, and say that we will give him safe hiding. Peles claims he can steal the key to the manacle. It's possible. It can be done."

"Yes, I agree we must help him. But this is my affair, Aria, not yours, my moral obligation. I will bear the risk."

Aria shakes her head. "You don't know the island as I do, and you're not nearly as stealthy. You'll make a noise or go the wrong way. Besides, they're expecting me."

He just sits staring into the middle distance, looking sad, shaking his head.

"I'm not a child, Papa. I'm seventeen and fully capable of doing important things, same as you."

Claudio notices the brown cap lying on Aria's pallet. He picks it up, turns it over in his hands, picks out a golden hair, and drops it on the floor. "Daughter," he says, as if to the cap, "is the king of Arcos aware that you are a girl?"

"He is not. I covered my hair. I spoke in a low voice."

"Well, thank the G.o.ds for that much anyway."

"May I go then, with your blessing?"

He opens his hands in a gesture of surrender. "May Athene protect you in your errand of mercy," he says. "But oh, my dearest child, do be careful."

28.

IT'S BEEN DARK FOR many hours and the guards are all asleep, but still there is no sign of the boy. They understand that he never committed to the rescue, but he did promise to come. Has he had second thoughts? Did the others convince him that it was too great a risk?

They're ready to go, just in case. Cloaks and boots are on. Alexos is wearing his brace, and his cane is close at hand. Now, being so far committed to action, it's especially hard to wait.

"I don't suppose," Suliman says softly, "that the young man is aware of your limitations-that you won't be able to creep away quietly and in haste, as he probably expects?"

"No, I don't suppose he is."

"I see."

"I'm afraid I shall have to travel in the same humiliating manner as I was dragged out of Arcos."

"Not dragged," Leander says. "Gently carried."

"I stand corrected."

"And I'm guessing," Leander continues, "that it'll be up a mountain this time, not through a fetid swamp-which I find infinitely preferable. But we're up for anything, eh, Peles?"

"We are indeed, Leander."

"All the same," Suliman says, "it's only fair to tell him how matters stand before there's any stealing of keys and unlocking of manacles. Much harm could be done if things go awry. He may not be willing to chance it once he learns of the complications."

"I know that, Suliman. I will tell him."

Alexos lies back and closes his eyes. He has no control over anything, so he might as well rest while he can. But he doesn't sleep, or not exactly. He slides into a state of half dreams; strange thoughts drift, lazy and unbidden, through his consciousness.

Most especially he thinks about the island. He's seen very little of it-just the beach and this clearing. Yet the perfectly formed trees, the remarkable softness of the gra.s.s, the ever-present fog-they are exactly like the Underworld as seen in his dreams. Is it possible, he wonders, that he is dead and simply doesn't know it? Was that the Stygian river they crossed during that terrible tempest? Was Charon at the helm?

He doesn't feel dead. His body aches, every inch of it, even the parts that don't move. But who can say if the dead feel pain? Probably they do, at least the wicked ones.

"You all right?" Leander whispers in his ear.

"Why do you ask?"

"You sounded rather nightmarish just now-gasping and moaning."

"I dreamed we were all dead and this was the Underworld."

"That's unpleasant."

"Oddly not. It was almost peaceful. Leander, was there anything particular you noticed about that boy?"

"Such as?"

"I don't know. Anything. Did he seem familiar to you in some way?"

"No. But he was awfully pretty for a lad dressed in rags. Not coa.r.s.e and ugly as peasants usually are-eh, Peles?"

This is a tiresome old joke that the two of them seem to enjoy, but Alexos isn't in the mood for it now. "Pretty?" he says, keeping to the subject.

"Yes. Like a girl."

And suddenly Alexos cannot breathe. He's feverishly working it out in his mind and his body is alive with the implications. His heart is racing, his gut is clenched, and he can't settle himself as he swings between wild joy and absolute terror. He thought he was long past such feelings.

Not really caring whether he lives or dies (except that his death would be a disaster for Arcos and contrary to Athene's inscrutable plans) has brought him a strange kind of peace. He accepts all pain and humiliation as his well-deserved penance, and that has been liberating too. He thought nothing could touch him anymore. But he never antic.i.p.ated this!

A frog croaks in the forest, then croaks twice more-and it's the worst possible time. Alexos isn't ready. He doesn't know what to do. But Peles is already giving the signal that all is safe. And then come the soft, careful steps of someone approaching, quiet but just barely audible if you're listening hard, which he is.

Suliman rolls over, as he did the night before, opening up a s.p.a.ce beside the king. The boy sits as noiselessly as he crept into camp.

"It's all right," he whispers. "The others have agreed. If you're ready, we can go tonight."

"Wait. First I have some questions."

"Then make it quick. We'll have to circle around to avoid the guards and Pyratos' camp. It'll take a lot longer that way and I want to get you hidden before first light."

"I understand. But there are things I need to know. It's important."

"Go ahead, then."

"Are there trees on this island that reach down their branches and offer their fruit? And winds that sing like a choir of heavenly voices?"

"How did you know about that? The wind has fallen silent since you came; and there are no fruit trees in this clearing."

"I dreamed it, a long time ago. I thought it was the Underworld. Perhaps it is and I'm already dead." He lays a warm hand-the one that isn't shackled-on Aria's arm. "You don't feel like a ghost," he says.

"That's because I'm not."

"Tell me, then: among your people, is there a family, a brother and a sister? He is dark, like me; she is older, with hair that shines like gold."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I dreamed them, too. There is also a kindly father-a bearded man, quite devoted to his children. Do you know such a family?"

"I might."

"You said there were only a few people here. Surely you must know them all."

"I'm not free to discuss them."

"But they are well?-you can tell me that much. Is the boy grown, healthy and happy? And the girl, she must be a woman now."

"They're both very well indeed. You will meet them soon. But we'd best go now while we can."

"And the boy," he says. "Has he also lived on this island all his life?"

"No," she says slowly, plainly growing uneasy. "He was four years old or thereabouts when he came to us."

Alexos catches his breath. "How? How did he come?"

"In a boat. Athene brought him here to safety."

"And he's been happy ever since? Content?"

"I told you before: yes."

Alexos swallows hard, tries desperately to control his voice. "And what is he called, the boy? Do you know his name?"

"We'd better go," she says.

"Just tell me his name. That's all I ask. Please."

Their heads are already close together as they speak in whispers. Now she leans closer still, her lips almost touching his ear. Her breath smells like clover. "His name is Teo," she says.