Free Chantress Alchemy by Amy Butler Greenfield Page A

the same reason. “I saw Penebrygg pushing you out the door.”
    “He wanted to say a few words to me about caution and moderation. Which I suppose were warranted,” Nat admitted. “A fine show I gave the Council, after all my advice to keep quiet. But moonbriar, of all things! I wasn’t expecting that.”
    “Nor I.”
    “And then the fire . . .” He cast a wary glance around the echoing room. “Look, it’s not really safe to talk here, but I know a place nearby that’s better. Will you come?”
    “Of course.”
    He grabbed a taper from a candelabra and guided me past the pillars into a maze of rooms. Though substantial, these rooms were not airy and graceful like some of the others I’d glimpsed in my wanderings. Lower and squatter, they had dark paneled walls and arched doorways and figures carved in stone: a hound, a hare, a woman’s face covered in leaves.
    In the last of these rooms, Nat stopped short, listening. All was quiet. It felt as if we’d reached the ancient heart of the palace, the core of the labyrinth.
    At last Nat walked up to a panel and fiddled with the decoration. With a muffled thump, the panel swung inward, revealing a small, hidden chamber.
    “How did you find it?” I marveled. In truth I hardly needed an answer. The first time I’d ever laid eyes on Nat, he’d been coming out of a secret door. The same curiosity that made him a born scientist also had made him a born spy.
    “Oh, this place is full of hideaways,” Nat said. “And I’ve had some time on my hands since we got shut up here.”
    His hand touched the small of my back as he ushered me in. Even after he turned away and tugged the door shut, my whole spine tingled.
    “We’ll still need to keep our voices down,” he warned me. “The walls are quite thick, and not many people come by, but there’s always a chance someone might be listening.”
    I nodded and looked around in the light of the lone taper, which he’d wedged into a battered candlestick. Tiny and windowless, the secret room was almost bare, boasting only a three-legged stool and a small, iron-banded chest.
    “What’s in there?” I pointed to the chest.
    “Nothing much.” Nat flipped the lid open. “Another candlestick and a flint. They were here when I found the place.”
    When I leaned forward to look, my sleeve brushed his. I glanced at him, and his wide hazel eyes held mine. He was so close I could feel his sweet breath on my cheek.
    Just as I was sure he was about to kiss me, he turned away and banged the chest shut. “How are we going to get you out of this?”
    I was bewildered by his sudden change of mood. “Out of this?”
    “Away from this court and its dangers. That fire could have killed you.” He gave me a sharp look. “Unless maybe you sang it up on purpose? To destroy the seeds?”
    “No,” I said. “It was as much of a surprise to me as to you.Something really was wrong with those seeds. I just wish I knew who tampered with them—and how, and why.”
    “I wish I knew too. But the fire’s only part of it. It’s not safe for you to be here, not when the Court’s in the grip of this alchemy madness.”
    I looked at him in surprise. “You think it’s madness?”
    “Of course!”
    “You didn’t say so at the meeting.”
    “Only because I’ve said it too many times before.” Frustration darkened his eyes. “The Inner Council voted to throw me out if I brought it up again, so now I have to keep quiet. But not by choice.”
    “You don’t have to keep quiet with me.”
    He smiled then, though his body stayed tense. “There is that, I guess. The one silver lining to this disaster.” He let out a deep breath. “I’ve missed you, Lucy.”
    It helped to hear that, but I noticed he didn’t come any closer. Was it shyness keeping him away? Well, that I could understand. I felt shy too. Although it was thrilling to be so close after our months apart, it was also unnerving. Maybe talking would help.
    I sat down on the