In this rat hole there is only gray light, no telling evening sun from high midday heat. I feel as though I've been down here for days, but perhaps it is the pain stretching seconds into minutes, minutes into hours, because no one has brought me food and my body does not crave it.

I am cold, shivering, which doesn't help the pain. My throat is raw and dry. My mouth bloated. I lie on the steel cage bars, unable to find any position even mildly comfortable and think of my father. He used to always tell me I could do anything I set my mind to. He used to tell me I was strong. I wonder what he would say if he saw me now.

Footsteps ring down the tunnel. Fear thumps through me. I reach towards the mind that approaches, and the wild battering of my heart softens.

The soldiers who dragged me here, and who have been left by Commander Linx to keep guard, stand to attention. I pull myself like an injured crab across the bars towards the door.

"Halt!" a soldier says. In the gloom, the white apron worn by the court maid stands out against the gray blouse and skirt. Calmi wears her hair in a handkerchief, pulled back from her face. Her head is lowered as she manages to curtsey and balance a tray. But if I recognize her, so will the soldiers.

"Who has sent you?"

Calmi's eyes rise and shift across to my prison. I watch breathless, desperate to talk to her, to find out whether Tug is still alive. Whether the Prince has a plan to free him.

"I have been sent from the kitchens with soup for the prisoner," she says coolly, defying them to question her, even when their postures stiffen, taking in her distinct blue eyes.

"Commander Linx made it clear the prisoner was an imposter and a traitor."

"Then why isn't she in the dungeons with the other prisoners? Why is she in a cage?"

"You'll have to put your questions to Commander Linx."

"Were you posted in the Royal Court last summer?"

"I was, My Lady," the second soldier says, stepping forward. He has recognized her.

"Then you know the treachery Commander Linx is capable of towards the Prince. Do you choose to question your sovereign's will now?"

"But Lord Strik—"

"What about my grandfather?"

"Five minutes," the second soldier says. He must outrank the first because the man clenches his jaw and steps aside. The second soldier slips a key in the lock and turns. My pulse pounds against my neck, as Calmi moves into my prison and is locked in with me.

"I have been sent to look at your injuries," she says, loud enough for the men to hear, but the urgency in her eyes says she also brings news. I lean on her and she helps me to the wooden palette at the back of the giant cage.

With our backs turned to the men she slips me a necklace. At first I do not understand, then I notice the pus-liquid in the round glass pendant: Nocturne Melody. I am so happy the tears of pain in my eyes turn to ones of joy.

"Is Tug alive?" I whisper.

She nods, helping me down on the pallet. I moan, but if Tug lives, the pain is bearable. Lady Calmi takes a small sachet of herbs from the pocket of her apron and pours them into the steaming teapot.

"Sixe has been drawing endless towers for the carrier pigeons," she says. "I think he wanted you to know that when Tug sent the carrier pigeon that was shot down, he sent two others that were not. His capture was a necessary decoy to ensure two of the birds lived."

Now I really am crying. My head spins and my chest froths with giddy bubbles. Tug got a message to the Duchess! She will be informed of the imminent attack on Lyndonia. She will realize Kel serves her no purpose. Keeping Kel safe and under her protection is more advantageous than breaking her word.

Lady Calmi stirs the herbs in the tea and pours a cup. "Drink this," she says. The veil of indifference has fallen and I'm surprised to read concern in her gaze. I do not want the Prince hearing about the state I'm in and worrying when he needs all his wits about him.

"I didn't think you'd be so fast to take up the offer of poisoning me," I say, taking the cup, trying to lighten the mood.

"You are a rival to be reckoned with," Lady Calmi quips, playing along. "It is arnica," she adds. "Now drink."

"Will the Prince free Tug?"

"We are working on it. Grandfather thinks Tug is a mercenary who has posed as your guardian while you postured as a Lady to get close to the Prince. For now he believes the Duke and Duchess are behind the ruse."

"When he questions me he will learn the truth."

"After I leave you, take the Nocturne Melody. There is enough to knock you out for six or seven hours. This will give us time to get your friend out."

My throat grows tight. Hearing her speak of Tug as a friend, I am hit by the realization that I am no longer alone. I am imprisoned in the Ruby Palace, I may die here, I am about to face a man who plunges souls into darkness, but there are others, not only Ma, Pa and Kel, rooting for me.

I never imagined my closest friends would be a mercenary and a prince, or that my life would be in danger so often because of them, but in different ways, Tug and Jakut have bridged the enormous chasm that locked me out of the world.

One of the guards rattles on the door. "That is enough, Lady Calmi."

"When your grandfather questions me," I whisper, "I will not be able to resist the power of his voice. He will discover I am Uru Ana and the Prince has lost his memories." There is no point trying to hide anything from Lady Calmi. Anything the Prince has decided not to tell her, she would have been told by Sixe.

Lady Calmi retrieves an ointment and some cloth. "I need to clean her wound," she calls to the soldier. She rolls up the sleeve of my shirt until she reaches the arrow wound. "The Prince's memories are coming back," she continues in a low voice. "When Grandfather discovers the Prince took the mist-berries, he will see it as an act of remorse and weakness. It will confirm his belief that the Prince is feeble, troubled, all the easier to manipulate. And when he understands the purpose for your presence, he will lose interest in you."

The ointment stings my flesh. I suck in my breath. "But if he discovers Jakut performed the cleansing, he will realize the Prince is unreliable, capable of changing his mind. Jakut will never have the opportunity to kill him. He will become your grandfather's puppet, if it has not happened already."

"I came to the Ruby Court last spring. Before then I lived in my grandfather's house for thirteen years. I am not his puppet. And do not forget, as I told you before, the Prince is different."

"Why?"

Calmi dabs the wound with the cloth, then pulls down my sleeve. "It is safer for him if you do not know," she says, standing. My stomach dives to the floor and panic floods me. She is going to leave and the next person in here with me will be Lord Strik. Just the thought of the mind-world swallowed up with his black hole, sucking everything into hellish darkness, terrifies me.

"But what if Lord Strik questions whether the Prince is loyal to him? What if I do something that gives away the Prince's true intent?"

"If Grandfather harbours doubt concerning the Prince's ignoble ambitions, doubt enough to ask you such questions, then it is over for us all, and we have already lost."

"What will your grandfather do when he discovers I am Uru Ana?"

"He assumes people are weak. Your people in particular have a reputation for passivity. He will not consider you a threat. He will assign you to the next tundra expedition to work in the mines, or as a slave in his household."

The key turns in the prison latch. Lady Calmi steps across the metal rungs to the door. At the bars she pauses a moment, then without looking back, vanishes into the tunnel.

The cage rattles as the soldier locks it. I pop the cork from the round glass bottle on the end of the necklace, fingers shaking. My body hums, anticipating the pain relief. I think of Tug confiscating the Nocturne Melody when we reached the Red City.

If I take it, I will be oblivious to all goings on in the palace for the next seven hours. Much could happen before I wake. Much could go wrong and I will be powerless to see anything, or warn anyone. But whom am I fooling? I am already powerless.

I raise the cloudy yellow liquid to my lips. The revolting smell holds a sweet promise of oblivion. I tell myself that Tug would understand. As long as I am unconscious Strik will believe Tug is of no interest. This is his chance to escape.

I hold up the round glass as though I'm raising a champagne flute in a toast. To Tug! Then I drink until it is all gone, and sink down, welcoming the fog on my mind's horizon.