Free Chronicles of the Red King #3: Leopards' Gold by Jenny Nimmo Page B

steps, his brother had gone. “Sometimes I think he can fly,” he said to himself.
    In the courtyard, Guanhamara and Elin were tidying Zeba’s hair. She was wearing a dress of buttercup yellow, with tight sleeves that were a little too long, and a green velvet hem that she kept tripping over. But she was hardly recognizable as the ragged waif of yesterday.
    Petrello noticed his brother Cafal watching the girls. He had a strange, gentle smile on his face, as though he were entranced by the scene. Poor Cafal, he had to try so hard to control his unhappy affliction. Petrello had only once seen the were-beast that his brother could sometimes become. But he had heard him, howling in the forest like a creature in great pain.
    So much for the gifts that the realm of enchantments had bestowed on the king’s third son. It didn’t seem fair. But as their father had explained, it was a matter of luck whether his children received a useful talent, or something they’d rather be without.
    “How do I look, Prince Petrello?” asked Zeba.
    “You look … almost beautiful,” Petrello answered lamely.
    “Don’t say ‘almost,’” Guanhamara complained. “Zeba is transformed. She looks gorgeous.”
    “Yes, of course,” Petrello agreed, wishing he knew how to pay compliments.
    “It’s just for today.” Zeba ran her fingers over the bright skirt. “And then I must wear something less splendid.”
    “She’s to work with the seamstresses,” Elin explained. “And the others might be jealous.”
    Zeba twirled around in her new dress, smiling broadly. “I’m going to sew,” she sang. “I always wanted to, but in Castle Melyntha they’d only let me sweep and scrub.”
    The breakfast bell rang out. Today it was Selgi’s duty. All the children waited impatiently for their turn to ring the bell, but Selgi was the best. He had a way of swinging the bell so that the brass clapper hit the sides in a series of long, rhythmical peals.
    As children and courtiers hurried to their breakfasts, they didn’t look as happy as usual. The bell reminded them of the vanished Rigg, and now there was news that the Seeing Crystal had been stolen. People didn’t feel safe anymore.
    “Have you seen Vyborn?” Petrello asked the girls.
    “He was taking my brother to see the helmets,” said Zeba.
    “But they’re kept in a locked room,” said Petrello, frowning.
    Zeba shrugged.
    “Save me some breakfast,” Petrello told Guanhamara as he sped toward the armory. “And for Tolly as well!”
    “Where is Tolly?” she shouted.
    “Who knows? But I don’t think Gunfrid should be alone with Vyborn.”
    Petrello caught a glimpse of Zeba’s anxious face, and then he lost sight of the girls as people hurried past them to the dining halls.
    “Helmets,” muttered Petrello.
    The helmets were kept in a small room just off the armory. Petrello found the guard who was supposed to be on duty slumped beside the grilled door. He had a dazed expression on his face, and Petrello noticed that the grille was partly open, with the key still in the lock.
    “Have you seen my brother?” asked Petrello, peering closely at the man.
    “I saw a goat,” mumbled the guard. “It had the horns of a devil. When I refused to let it in, it winded me. Butted me right here.” He touched his stomach. “There was a boy with it, a scrawny lad. He said, ‘This goat wants you to unlock the door; if you don’t, he’ll butt you again and put his horns right through you.’”
    “A goat?” said Petrello.
    “What could I do?” groaned the guard. “I mean, what harm can a goat do in an armory? It can’t steal weapons, or put on the armor. And I didn’t want to feel those horns in my stomach again, so I unlocked the grille and the door.”
    “And did they go in?”
    “Of course they did,” the guard replied sourly.
    Before the man could stop him, Petrello slipped through the open grille and took two steps down to a wooden door studded with iron bolts. A great key