Free Wednesdays in the Tower by Jessica Day George

that.”
    “Embroidery?” Impossibly, Wizard Arkwright’s eyebrows went even higher. He looked down his long nose at the cushions.
    “Epic poetry,” Celie said, thinking of the poem she’d transcribed a few weeks ago.
    “I see,” Arkwright said. “Perhaps you should take these things to the schoolroom, then.” He looked around at the crates of decorations. “This room has other purposes.”
    “How do you know we have a schoolroom? Or that this isn’t it?” Celie stuck her chin up, not caring if she sounded rude.
    “I assumed that you didn’t sit on dusty crates to do your sums. Your Highness,” Wizard Arkwright said just as rudely.
    “The schoolroom’s a bit crowded with some other things at present,” Rolf said, poking Celie in the back. “We’ll just leave them here for now and see what Master Humphries wants to do with them later.” He stopped poking and took Celie’s arm. “Come along, Cel, nearly time for bed.”
    “May I take these cushions?” Arkwright asked. “I merely wish to look at them.” There was a sly tone in his voice.
    “I’m sorry,” Rolf said brightly, “but I’m sure Master Humphries will be along in minutes to see them. Good night!”
    “Good night, Your Highnesses,” Wizard Arkwright said, bowing his head just a fraction of an inch.
    “Good night,” Celie said from between gritted teeth.
    “And if I may suggest, the poetry of Karksus is quite … evocative,” he said as they walked by.
    “Good to know,” Rolf said, giving him a jaunty salute.
    “I don’t like him,” Celie whispered as they walked across the main hall to her room.
    “Nor do I,” Rolf said cheerfully. “But the way I see it, he can’t be worse than Khelsh and the old Emissary, and we got rid of them.”
    “No,” Celie said. “Rufus and the Castle got rid of them.”
    Rolf just shrugged. “We still have the Castle,” he pointed out. “And if we need to, I suppose you could summon a new Rufus!” He winked at her and said good night.
    She went into her room, locking the door carefully behind her. Then she went up the wide spiral steps to Rufus’s new tower. He was savagely tearing apart one of his leather balls, but when he saw her he dropped it and came running. He looked like he’d grown during dinner, but he was still ungainly and nearly tore the hem of her gown in his exuberance.
    “We already have a new Rufus,” she said aloud. “But I don’t know how much help he’ll be!”

Chapter
13

    Celie could not stop thinking about what Wizard Arkwright had said about the holiday feasting hall. Of course it had other purposes; it had never occurred to her before, but now it seemed quite silly to think that there was an enormous room in the Castle that existed only for one week a year.
    But it reminded her of what she and Rolf and Pogue had talked about when the hall first appeared, and what Bran had said at dinner that same night, about where the rooms of the Castle were before they were in Sleyne. Celie couldn’t shake the feeling that the rooms were not only some where else, but with some one else.
    Who had put the decorations in the boxes? Who had provided the food at the winter holidays? She’d always thought of it as just being “the Castle,” but what did that mean? Somewhere, in a distant, exotic place, was there akingdom where they had the other rooms of the Castle? Was there another throne room, another main hall … other towers … other kitchens?
    She thought about the new kitchen, and the new stables. Had those other people used them until one day they were suddenly gone? Did they need the kitchen? The stables? Why had the Castle brought them to Sleyne, then?
    Did these other people know about Sleyne?
    She had been throwing a ball for Rufus up in his tower. She tossed it as hard as she could, so that it banged against the far wall, to give herself a moment to think. Was the Castle stealing from the other people for her family? Did it like them better, so it took away