Chapter 81
THE SECRET OF THE PIGEONS, DIRK IS VERY UNWELL, AND DUCHESS REVEALS A WAY
Dirk botched the landing in the workroom, bruising more than just his ribs, but he didn’t care. “Get into that attic!”
Bradley scrambled up the ladder, Millie chasing after him. The pigeons cooed and rustled at their appearance but remained roosted.
“Piss and plagues!” The princess tried to spritz jasmine perfume onto a handkerchief, but she’d used the last of it to counteract Renaldo’s pheromones. She smothered her nose and mouth with the cloth anyway and turned to ladder. “Master Dirk? If you’re able to, bring fire.”
Bradley’s excitement was the only thing suppressing his gag reflex.
“I never noticed that little window before because I’ve never left the tower before, and when Dirk and I first arrived, we came in from the north.
The pigeons have always gone mad whenever I’ve approached this section of the attic, but I thought that was because they were just pigeons—neurotic little rats with wings. They’ve been guarding it.”
“But couldn’t you sense the magic?”
“Not when I was getting attacked—I was too preoccupied by protecting my eyes. But I have sensed it before,” he realized. “Down in the workroom. I couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from, and neither could Pocket with her hag stone. That’s because it was above us, not hidden in the clutter.”
It was so stupidly simple that Bradley wanted to throttle first Master Excelsior and then himself.
Millie swung a look around the room. “That’s a lot of beaks. How are we going to get past that?”
Bradley had already thought of an idea and was scrambling down the ladder. He rooted around in the cargo net of their luggage and extracted her parasol. “I promise I’ll get you another one.”
“Fiiine.”
Millie held her breath and secured her bonnet more tightly against her head. Bradley pulled the hood of his robe up over his head and opened the parasol. With both of them gripping the rod, they lowered it like a shield in front of them and advanced on the southeastern wedge.
The moment they crossed over the center point of the attic, the pigeons launched into the air.
A flurry of feathers, dander, and droppings choked the air.
Millie tucked in tight behind the parasol, drawing deep breaths from the handkerchief, and leaned her full weight forward.
Bradley braced a hand against the boning of the parasol as the pigeons buffeted against the fabric, ripping rents in the silk.
Together the two trudged deeper into enemy territory, muscles straining against the assault.
“Now!”
They swept the ruined parasol up and over their heads, directing the wave of attacking pigeons away from them, and Bradley rushed forward to the cupboard revealed in the wall behind the nests.
Only a simple latch secured it, but years of pigeon filth required he jam his elbow against it to break the glue seizing the latch.
By now the parasol was truly savaged, and Millie swung it through the air like her cutlass, bashing the birds away from her.
The moment Bradley yanked open the cupboard doors, the birds quieted. They returned to their roosts as if they hadn’t just been possessed, cooing and straightening their feathers. Bradley, hands scratched and bleeding, lifted the silver scroll tube from its pillow and cradled it against his chest.
“I’ve got it,” he whispered.
A moment later they were safe in the workroom, the attic door secured behind them, and huddled over Bradley’s old folding table. Balancing on his rear legs, Dirk braced his claws against the edge of the table and craned forward.
“Well?” he asked.
“The spell’s got to be inside.” Bradley gave the cap a twist, but it didn’t budge. He tried the other end to the same result.
The princess took it from him and examined the silverwork. “This is a Tianzi puzzle box, or tube, whatever. Crone’s Crooked Tits. Getting in there won’t be straightforward.”
“Shit.” Dirk slumped to the floor.
“Never mind that now.” She tossed the tube back to Bradley and picked Dirk off the floor like he was a child, propping him up on her hip.
“Let’s get you in the tub, okay, Master Dirk?
Water always makes you feel better. And we need to tell the others we’re back.
I’ll get them to help haul that magic water up from the spring. Won’t that be nice?”
“It does feel the best,” he agreed, albeit a smidge reluctantly.
“Bradley?” she prompted.
Bradley hauled the stuffed armchair out of the clutter and sat. “I’m going to stay here and try to figure this out.”
Millie squeezed his shoulder. He covered her hand with his, squeezed back. “Hurry,” she mouthed.
When she reached her room and nudged open the door with her hip, two heads popped up from beneath the feather duvet on her bed like inquisitive whistle pigs.
“Bestie,” Pocket cried as Duncan shrieked, “Miss Millie!”
Millie’s gaze cut to the flurry of cards spread across the duvet.
Smirking, she moved towards the adjoining bathroom and the large claw-foot tub inside.
“I don’t care what you’re doing so long as you change the sheets before tonight.
Also, you need to take a break and haul some water up from the spring for Dirk. He’s not well.”
“You sick, Shorty?” Pocket scrambled out of bed and padded—in looted lingerie—into the bathroom behind them.
Millie eased the Mini Red into the tub and started the water. Regular tap water would have to do until they could collect some from the spring.
Dirk only grunted.
“Never has that dragon not answered me without a string of run-on sentences.” Pocket darted out of the bathroom and snatched a fresh dress from her side of the closet. Then she donned all her purses.
Duncan hadn’t moved from the bed, frozen in place, so Pocket scooped up his shirt and threw it into his face. “Come on, Duncan.”
The gnome quickly put on his shirt, scurried out from under the duvet, and hopped from one foot to the other, putting on his boots. “Nothing happened, Miss Millie, I swear.”
“Don’t I know it,” Pocket groused. “Out!”
Millie followed them out, suppressing a smile. “Also, where is Prince Henri? I didn’t see the birdcage in the workroom when we arrived.”
“He’s been relocated to the kitchen,” Pocket answered.
“He’s become a bit addicted to the mead after the defeat of the Tianzi Toad, I’m afraid.
But he’s so much nicer when he’s tipsy, so we all decided that, for the sake of morale, we’d let the little lush get as snockered as he wants.
Fink’s in there making sure he doesn’t drown or anything. ”
Millie’s laugh cut off when she heard Sir Eustace’s bugle. “Go on,” she urged the others. “And get Sir Roger to help you. I’ll handle this.”
She retraced her steps to the workroom, pulse quickening. It was too soon. Dirk could barely move, let alone fly. How could he defend the tower from another Hero?
Bradley was already at the western balcony railing when she reached the workroom, and she hurried to his side. She looked out instead of down, searching for the Hero.
“Back from our little illicit holiday, are we?” the ministry official snarked, gesturing to the dune skiff with his spyglass. “And where is the dragon?”
“He’s down for his morning nap,” Millie answered. “And as I don’t see a Hero in the vicinity, are you contacting because you’re holding on to some mail for us or something?”
“No, I don’t have any of your mail. I am merely confirming that you both are staying put for the duration of the DDP, that is, the next three days.”
“Yes, I do believe we’ll be in residence.”
“Excellent, because there is a vast number of Heroes on their way and I’d hate for Dirk the Dangerous to disappoint them.”
Bradley and Millie paled.
The princess schooled her expression with an efficiency that frightened the apprentice, and she asked sweetly. “Is Duchess there with you?”
“She is. I’ve been keeping her properly brushed, by the way.”
“You’re a saint, Sir Eustace. Would you send her inside for a moment? Mummy needs a quick snuggle.”
“That alabaster goddess does what she likes, but I will convey your request since you have been a reasonable caretaker up until this point.”
“Thank you, Sir Eustace. And your cousin Renaldo says hello.”
“Renaldo? Disappeared to the Library of Xandria, did you? Well that rake can keep his hellos. They’re probably laced with STDs.
I hope you’ve treated yourself to an expensive healing potion after the encounter.
” The little man disappeared into his tent with a flap of his coattails, presumably to retrieve Duchess.
The moment his back was turned, Millie raced for the trapdoor with Bradley hot on her heels. “Dirk can’t defend this place,” she said in a rush. “We have to slow the Heroes down.”
“And how are we going to do that? We can’t even leave this place without Dirk’s help.”
“Yet my sweet little kitty has been doing it all this time.” She flattened against the wall to let Pocket, Duncan, and Sir Roger pass with pails of spring water. “When you’re done, I have need of you three,” she told them. “Join me in the dungeons, if you would.”
She didn’t wait for a reply, just hiked up her skirt and continued her mad dash down the stairs.
Duchess was waiting for her on the sandy floor at the bottom of the stairs, fluffy tail curled around her paws.
Millie extended her hand in greeting, waiting for the cat to acknowledge her with a touch of her nose, which she did.
Pleasantries exchanged, Millie got straight to the point.
“Duchess, how is it that you’ve been sneaking out all this time? Do not even try to play coy and mysterious with me. This is for Dirk.”
The tip of her tail flicked once, twice, then Duchess rose with a little trill and padded away.
She led them up the stairs and pawed open the room stuffed with all the armor and weapons.
Weaving a well-known path through the disorderly heaps of steel, she went to a section of the wall and disappeared behind a circular shield so large it must’ve belonged to a giant. It took both humans to roll it away.
“Are you kidding me?” Bradley crouched down to peer through the sizable hole in the wall.
“Well you’ll never fit. Not with those shoulders.” Millie nudged him to scoot over. “But I will.”
“Don’t you dare. Hang on.” He disappeared and reappeared with some rope. “Arms up.”
“I can tie a suitable knot myself, you know. The dungeon cots are just a short walk away if you need a reminder.”
Bradley’s cheeks burned like freshly lit torches. He’d often wondered how the princess had tied him to the headboard. How close she must’ve been.
His voice had a rough edge. “Just let me do this.”
The sorcerer apprentice knotted the rope so it wouldn’t pinch or constrict, testing its tightness by slipping his hand between it and her stomach. His fingers itched to clamp down and tug the rope, and by extension, the princess, much, much closer.
“Be careful.” His voice was low and intense. “We have no idea where that leads.”
“Yes we do, just not the route it takes.”
He rolled his eyes, and she flashed one of her signature mischievous smiles.
Then the princess eased herself feet-first into the hole.
Duchess had the good manners to wait for her at a tricky bend and mewed encouragement.
The stone was as coarse as sandpaper and often crumbled under Millie’s hands or feet, causing her to slip.
That made the security rope go tight, which earned her a worried shout from Bradley, and she knew if she didn’t answer quickly, he’d yank incessantly on the rope and bruise her ribs until she did.
Worming through the wall was much easier for the cat than it was for the human, but Millie managed with only a few bumps and scrapes. And she discovered the reason for the tunnel—the grandmother of all hermit crabs.
She had to be the size of a watermelon, and her young had honored her by carving designs into her shell.
Its spiral still glowed with bioluminescent light, but it was dimmer now with age.
She had to take many naps. This grandmother watched Millie scuttle by, and Millie paid her respects with a polite nod.
Another turn and a slant of sunlight warming the manila stones almost blinded her.
Millie squinted, letting her eyes adjust, then scooched down to the sand of the desert.
Duchess meowed and slipped through the narrow opening into the sunlight.
Millie had to shove the sand back with her hands to carve out a wider exit, but she managed it.
She was also out of rope now, so she undid the knot and pinned it beneath a stone before venturing outside.
A natural slope of sand carved by the wind had created a shield wall, blocking the little tunnel from sight unless you knew exactly where to look.
That wind seemed to blow in perpetuity, whisking Duchess’s paw prints away almost as quickly as she made them.
And as the tunnel faced southwest, it was out of sight of Sir Eustace’s camp.
Perfect.
Millie gave the cat an affectionate scratch behind the ears. “Thank you, sweetie.”
Duchess mewed and trotted off to the tent for some caviar, and Millie reattached the rope and scrambled back up the tunnel.
Bradley quickly checked her over for wounds. “You’re alright?”
“Come on.” Flushed with excitement and purpose, Millie grabbed his hand and darted back into the stairwell.
Her friends were gathered in the dungeons as instructed.
Without explaining the details about Dirk’s sickness, Mutineer Millie very quickly told them the dragon was unable to defend the tower, how it was up to them to sabotage the incoming Heroes until he could be healed, and exactly how they were going to do it.
“Also, is anyone familiar with Tianzi puzzle boxes?” When everyone shook their heads, she waved that inconvenience aside. “It doesn’t matter; you’ll all try anyway. Quick march, now!”