Chantress by Amy Butler Greenfield

Author:Amy Butler Greenfield [Greenfield, Amy Butler]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Speculative Fiction, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9781442457058
Publisher: Margaret K. McElderry
Published: 2013-05-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

PLANS AND QUESTIONS

“But what about the Shadowgrims?” I asked. “If Scargrave still has them, what does it matter if we destroy the grimoire?”

“Once the grimoire is destroyed, its works will go with it,” Lady Helaine said. “Including the Shadowgrims.”

“You are sure?” Nat asked.

“Yes. It is how our magic works.”

The mood in the room lightened considerably. Penebrygg and Sir Barnaby traded hopeful glances.

“Then we can begin to make plans,” Sir Barnaby said. “Lady Helaine, how long will it take to teach your goddaughter the song?”

“At least six months, I should imagine. And quite possibly more.” Lady Helaine ran her hand along the long strand of beads that hung around her neck. “Her progress will depend on how gifted she is, and how disciplined. But she is very inexperienced—and what little experience she has is of exactly the wrong sort. So one cannot expect miracles.”

This withering assessment took the wind out of my sails.

“Can she sing the song anywhere?” Sir Barnaby asked.

“No. She must hold the grimoire in her hands.”

I thought of the book I had seen, bound fast to the wall, when I was in Scargrave’s mind. My hand and his hand, blending . . . No! I must not think of that. I must stay myself, with no blurring at the edges. I forced myself back to the present, to the smoky room, and my godmother’s rasp, and the reassuring bulk of a slumbering Norrie against me.

Sir Barnaby tapped his fingers against his chin. “So we must find a way to send her into the Tower of London undetected—and into Scargrave’s Chamber in the White Tower, where the grimoire is kept. That will be a challenge.”

“It will be,” Lady Helaine agreed. “But I may be able to help there as well. Among the few song-spells that I remember is one for concealment.”

“A spell of invisibility, you mean?” Penebrygg asked.

“Nothing quite so powerful as that. The song makes it unlikely she will catch people’s gaze, but those who look carefully in her direction can usually see something—a glimmer, perhaps, or even a ghostly outline—and they may be able to track her down. But still, the song will help her, especially if she can be taught to move carefully and quietly and to seek shelter wherever possible.”

“We’ll have Nat train her, then,” Penebrygg said. “He’s done plenty of work for us at the Tower, and he knows his way around its secret places. What do you say, my boy? Will you teach her everything you can?”

“I’ll do my best,” Nat said, and for a moment, I saw enthusiasm in his eyes. Had he forgiven me, then, for reading his mind?

Perhaps not. Before I could respond, the guarded expression returned to his face.

But why should I have expected anything else? And what did it matter anyway? He wasn’t here to make friends, and neither was I. We were here to win a war. And to him—and to everyone here—I was merely a tool in that war.

“But, of course, your chief tutor will be Lady Helaine,” Sir Barnaby said to me.

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