Ruth was installed in Pat's room, but there was the question of a bed.
"Gargoyles do not sleep at night," Ruth informed them when the topic was brought up. "We turn to stone and rest during the day."
Pat cringed. "So you're going to be a statue in here? I don't know how I'm going to explain a moving statue to the other ladies who dress me."
"Maybe the necklace works so she doesn't have to sleep," Fred suggested.
All three of them looked down at the trinket. The glass glistened in the light of the room's candles. Pat frowned. "Maybe you'd better go ask Ned. It's still a few hours until sunrise, and I would like to know now."
Fred slunk out of the room and down the hall. He jumped when Lady Martley rounded the corner of the connected hall and they nearly collided. She smiled at him. "Greetings, young sir. What has you up at such an hour?"
"Oh, um, just, well, just helping Ned," he replied.
Lady Martley smirked and leaned down. Her breasts swayed in her loose-fitting dress, and he watched them swing back and forth like a child watches the swinging of a swing in a breeze. "You are a terrible liar, young sir." She gently clasped his chin in her fingers and pulled his face up so he stared into her eyes. "I won't ask why you truly walk these halls, but try be more careful in the future. There are others here who would not be so kind as I."
"Like Sturgeon?" he guessed.
Her eyes crinkled up with her smile. "Clever boy, so you know of his wanderings?" Fred tried to nod, but she had a strong grasp and sharp nails. Her expression lost her humor and for the first time Fred witnessed her concern. "Be mindful of him. I believe he means to do you and your friends a great deal of harm." Fred frowned. That was the same warning Percy had given them. Martley released him and stood straight; her smile returned. "Until we see each other again, be in good health, young castor."
Fred blinked and watched the woman retreat down the hall. He'd never showed her his abilities as a castor. When she disappeared into her room, Fred hurried to his. He found Ned standing at the window with his gaze on the stars in the bright sky.
Ned turned at his entrance, and smiled. "Was your mission a success?" he asked the young lad.
"What? Oh, yeah, we took her back," Fred answered.
The old man frowned. "You're distracted. What have you seen?"
"That Martley lady and Percy both told us to beware of Sturgeon," Fred told him.
Ned raised an eyebrow. "You've spoken to both?" Fred nodded, and Ned leaned heavily on his staff in thought. "It seems the troubles in Tramadore have followed us here as surely as Canavar's influence."
Fred blinked. "What about Canavar? Didn't we escape him when we crossed the bridge?"
Ned closed his eyes and shook his head. "The Priests of Phaeton hoped his influence was weak enough he wouldn't dare cross into the Sterning region, but we find him here in Galaron."
"Here?" Fred's eyes flitted over the walls as though they'd grown ears and eyes.
Ned nodded. "The chaos brought about by your young friend's appearance shows that the fear instilled by Canavar's power has permeated the walls of this great city. I have seen this white madness too many times not to recognize its affects."
"White madness," Fred repeated. The words brought up the memory of the peoples' glowing skin. "When I was on the roof I saw white smoke and some of the people had skin that glowed white."
Ned's hands shook so bad he nearly lost his hold on his staff. "Then it is true, your sighting confirms it. Canavar seeks to influence the people and, I fear, the king. It bodes ill for us, and particularly for Pat's ascension to the leadership of Galaron's army."
"Isn't there a way to stop his influence? Can't we blow away the bad air with our magic like you blew away all the fires?" Fred asked him.
"I blow away the fires?" Ned repeated, and shook his head. "That wasn't I, but this Lady Martley. She has great skills for a castor of whom I've never heard."
"Martley's a castor?" Fred wondered.
"Yes, but that mystery is for another time. We were speaking of Canavar's power, which is not so much a spell as a curse."
Fred's face drooped. "What's the difference?"
Ned walked over to him and wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders. "A curse has no time limit and is very powerful, while a spell is less so."
"Oh. Then how are we going to break the curse?" Fred wondered.
The old man paused, scrunched up his face, and shrugged. "I haven't the slightest idea, especially at this late hour. Did you come here to retire?"
Fred remembered his mission. "Ruth got permission from her father to pay her life-debt to us, so she's in Pat's bedroom. We were wondering if her amulet keeps her awake during the day or if she'll turn to stone."
Ned pulled at his beard and led Fred over to the door. "If my memory serves me then yes, it will prevent her from turning to stone, but only if she retains her human form. If she tries to return to her original body she will sleep as any other gargoyle."
"Right, I'll go tell them." Fred left the room and returned to the girls. He passed on the information. Pat was relieved and Ruth was ecstatic.
"I cannot wait to see the sun over the sky!" she eagerly told them.
"Speaking of sun, I would like to get some sleep before that rises," Pat spoke up. The hour was well past midnight, and a thought struck Fred.
"Does that mean it's your birthday right now?" he asked her.
Pat furrowed her brow and finally shrugged. I suppose it does."
Fred grinned and held out his hand. "Congratulations on living this long."
Pat rolled her eyes, but took his hand and gave a hearty shake. "I couldn't have done it without you and Ned."
A pair of hands broke in between them, and the humans looked over to their gargoyle friend. She smiled back. "Congratulations to you both."
Fred laughed. "It's not my birthday today. Mine is in a month or two."
Pat raised an eyebrow. "Or two?" she repeated.
Fred shrugged. "I'm not really sure. My parents would celebrate it around this time and mention how I was born under a shooting star, but I lost track of the exact date a few years ago."
"I still wish you both a happy birthday," Ruth insisted.
"And to you, also," Pat returned. They all shook hands and congratulated one another on living to such a great age. The friends parted, with Fred returning to his room. He found Ned retired and asleep, and soon joined him.
The next day broke bright and early, and there was a great crowing in Fred's ear. He bolted upright and his face flew into the wispy hair of Ned's beard. The boy struggled to free himself of the great mass of hair, and Ned pulled them apart. Ned fell back on his butt and Fred glared at him. "Were you trying to strangle me?"
Ned chuckled and raised himself to his feet. "I was merely awakening you for your first full day as my servant."
"Apprentice," Fred blandly reminded him.
Ned tapped his chin and wrinkled his nose. "I suppose we may use that title."
Fred rolled his eyes, rolled out of bed, and into a fresh pair of clothes. They went downstairs for breakfast, and Fred had his first glimpse of the dining hall. The room was three times larger than that of Tramadore, and more decadent. Tapestries hung from the walls between the stained-glass windows, and the four dozen wood chairs around the long, thick wood table were as large as the Uncomfortable Chair.
The pair found the long table crowded with the other guests. Percy and his father were of the party, and they nodded politely at the castors. King Stephen was at the head of the grand party, and he gestured them over. They heeded his call and found the seats on either side of him to be empty. "Please be seated," he commanded them, and they obeyed. Fred noticed the king looked carefully at him. "This morning I was given some astounding news by residents of Tramadore concerning this boy here." The noisy table grew quiet as they listened to the king's words.
Ned raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? What news was this?"
Stephen reveled in the attention and puffed himself up like a peacock. "That he is none other than the boy who sat on the Uncomfortable Chair." The guests gasped and whispered among themselves. Fred shrank beneath all those eyes staring at him. "Why did you not inform me of this sooner? I would have shown him the honor due to such a destined individual."
Ned bowed his head. "My apologies, Your Highness, but we sought to protect Lady Lamakin first, and fulfill his destiny second."
"Perhaps they are closely connected," King Stephen pointed out. "And as such, I must insist on his being one of her guardians."
Fred perked up at the demand, and Ned smiled. "That is very gracious of you, Your Highness, and as his master I accept your offer."
The king's eyebrows crashed down. "Master? What means this?" Fred winced at the royal's displeased tone.
"I have taken him on as my apprentice, Your Highness," Ned replied.
"Without my permission? Unconscionable!" King Stephen exclaimed. He stood up and pounded his fist against the table. The other guests froze. "At whose table do you reside? Under whose roof do you now find comfort?"
Ned bowed his head. "Yours, Your Highness, but an apprentice does not cease to be nor is created an apprentice merely by location."
Stephen's face reddened and he sputtered out his words. "You dare advise me on my rights! I am king here and-"
"-and Your Highness is frightening his guests," a calm voice interrupted. The party swung their heads toward the door and watched Lady Martley walk up to the king's throne. She curtsied to him and seated herself opposite the two men. "Surely you will not object to Ned here helping this young man, ordained by the Chair himself, to fulfill his destiny as a great man,? she scolded the royal. She took a goblet in front of her plate and poured herself a healthy quantity of wine from the pitcher. "It would be as though you were trying to stop the Lady Lamakin from taking charge of her duties as leader of your army."
Stephen's face cooled and he fumbled for his words. "What? No, of course I would not prevent such a thing. I merely wished to instruct Ned here on the proper respect he should show to me."
Martley sipped on her wine, and smiled over the brim. "A true king would not need to remind his subjects of his power," she schooled him. Stephen's mouth flopped open and shut like a fish, and before he could think of a reply Martley glanced around at the guests. "But where is the lady of honor? Is she not down yet?"
"I'm here," Pat's voice called from the hall, and she entered the room dragging Ruth behind her. The gargoyle girl was enamored with the light from the windows and bumped into chairs and walls. Pat wore a long dress, and she occasionally tripped over the shoes and the hem on the way to her seat beside Martley. She stood before the king and curtsied to him. "Good morning, Your Highness," she politely greeted him.
Her polite manners pleased the royal and soothed what anger was left. He took her hand and kindly led her back to her seat. "Good morning to you, my dear lady and future captain. I hope you slept well, regardless of the city's slight touch of panic last evening."
"I slept very well, thank you," Pat replied as she seated herself. The dark bags under her eyes told a different story, and seeing Ruth's energy told him the gargoyle was the reason behind the lack of sleep.
Stephen returned to his seat, but stood over the table and glanced at those seated at the head. His face was filled with admiration, but Fred didn't trust the man's moods. They changed course faster than the course of a flooding river. "What honor you all do me by appearing at my table." He raised his glass and his guests followed suit. "To the future Captain of Galaron, and this young lad-" He forgot the boy's name.
"Fred, Your Highness," Martley reminded him.
"Ah yes, to Fred, the future leader of a great change." Fred cringed at the wrong reading of his destiny. "May you both bring Galaron and the world prosperity." The king drank from his goblet.
"Here, here!" were the muffled replies from the other guests, and they joined in the drink.
As Fred looked over the rim at the table, his eyes fell on Ruth. She couldn't look away from the sun, and her eyes blinked constantly to keep from watering. Pat sat opposite him and ruthlessly pulled at the collar of her dress. Beside her was Martley, who winked at him. He snatched a glance at the mad king, but the man was deep in talk with Ned about the celebration supper that night. Down the table sat Percy and Sturgeon, and the elder watched them with a careful eye. Fred wondered what sort of a madhouse he had joined.