The Amaranth Enchantment by Julie Berry

Author:Julie Berry [Berry, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Published: 2011-07-10T15:33:46+00:00

Chapter 18

I huddled on the wooden bench all through the scant hours that remained, rubbing my prickly arms and legs and rocking on my hips. I am alive now, I told myself. I must savor it, even in this cold, rat-infested place, for I, Lucinda Chapdelaine, am alive. I am not dead. Yet.

Only the people I'd loved were dead. Papa, proud and clever Papa, snuffed out in his prime; and Mama, whose laughing eyes saw into my thoughts; and Uncle Ernest, poor old browbeaten Uncle Ernest, who saved me tidbits of dinner when Aunt was in a rage.

All those I'd loved were gone. If Prince Gregor had cared for me, even for a moment, he was wise to abandon it, for caring for me could bring nothing but ill luck.

Gregor. He was a bitter taste in my mouth, the sourness left after sugar ferments on the tongue. They were

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wrong, those who babbled that it was better to have loved and lost. I wished I'd never seen him.

Didn't I?

What had I done to end up like this? It was Beryl who dropped that accursed gem into my lap. Aunt who made me carry it back. Peter who stole it from me, and Beryl once more who sent me to retrieve it.

The sky through the bars of my window turned from black to pewter gray.

I am not dead.

I am not to blame.

If I was not to blame, then why was I in prison?

No one robbed the prince but I. No one plotted to do it but I. I chose it, I planned it, and I did it. No one else can claim that distinction but me!

I ceased my rocking and digested this information. It was strangely exhilarating. I was to blame. I was audacious! Determined! Resourceful! I did an unspeakable thing, myself, alone!

I jumped up off my bench, heedless of the damp chill of the flagstone floor.

I was a marvel of ingenuity and nerve. If I'd been one yesterday, surely I could be one now. I did it! They're going to hang me for it. But first they'll have to make me hold still long enough to tie the rope. And I've got talents they don't know of. Maybe those talents can save me.

I climbed onto the bench and stood on tiptoe to see if 162

the window held any possibilities. Its iron bars were closely spaced and crisscrossed into a grate. I was able to poke my fingers through--there was no glass--but they didn't budge a bit. There was no wooden casement, only bars sunk deep into the mortar and rocks on every side. Undaunted, I grasped every bar and tried with all my strength to rattle it, to find some give to it, like a child examining her mouth for a loose baby tooth.

Sure as Gibraltar, all of them.

Another way, then. I hopped down and hurried to the door. The silvery sky afforded me enough glow to see the knob. I rattled it, finding more satisfaction as it made a splendid racket.

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