Thrice Upon a Marigold Read Free Page B

to be delivering any messages in his condition. You may have to do it.”
    â€œYou keep massaging the pigeon, then,” Sebastian said.
    Phoebe took the bird in her hands and felt the fast beat of its tiny heart under her fingers. “Come on, birdie,” she whispered. “Don’t give up.”
    Sebastian worked at unrolling the wet paper. “The ink is running, but I think I can make it out.” He spread the strip of paper on the hearth and read:
    Â 
M. Do not wait. Take the baby instantly.
Leave the ransom note.
We will wait in the agreed-upon place.
B. and V.
    Â 
    â€œWhoa!” he said, sitting back on his heels. “Look at this. What do you think it means?”
    Phoebe bent over the note, the pigeon still in her hands, and read the blurry words out loud. “Oh, my,” she said. “Is that what you read, too?”
    â€œYes.” He paused. “Which is the only baby in the kingdom worth kidnapping?”
    â€œPrincess Poppy, you mean?”
    â€œCan you think of another one worth a ransom?”
    â€œBut who’s M.? And who are B. and V.?” She felt a terrible sense of dread.
    â€œI don’t know who M. is, but I’m pretty sure who B. and V. are. I told you who my father is, and he’s probably part of this. He wants revenge. He was pretty outraged that he was exiled.”
    After a long pause, Phoebe said quietly, “So was mine.”
    Sebastian gave her a close look. “Why would
your
father be outraged about
my
father’s exile?”
    â€œHe wasn’t outraged about your father,” she said, unsure why she was telling him this. “He was outraged about himself.” The pigeon began to stir in her hands.
    â€œYou mean . . . you mean, your father is Boris? As in ‘B.’?”
    She nodded, trying to soothe the pigeon, who was struggling to work his way out of the cloth wrapped around him.
    â€œYour father is Boris, the torturer-in-chief?” Sebastian sounded unbelieving.
    â€œYes, yes,” she affirmed. “Do you want to make something of that?” Maybe telling him had been a mistake. She unwrapped the pigeon, who was beginning to move his wings.
    â€œNo. Not at all. I’m just . . . surprised. I knew he had a daughter. We may even have played together a few times when we were little. But I never knew what happened to you.”
    â€œI’ve kept a low profile. Like you have. My father wasn’t the most popular person in the kingdom, you know. And the library was perfect for me. I love to read and I needed a job where nobody would have to work with me. People are scared of me.”
    â€œI do know. I know all about that. Even if you’ve never done anything to make anybody fear you, they still do. Just because of what someone else has done.”
    They studied each other, forgetting all about the pigeon, who was rapidly regaining his strength and fluttering his wings.
    â€œYou
do
know,” Phoebe murmured, almost to herself.
    With a great flapping, the pigeon rose into the air and flew around the library, the open message cylinder hanging from his leg.
    â€œOh, no!” Sebastian yelled, reaching toward the fire and then yanking his hand back.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œWhen the pigeon took off, his wings blew the p-mail message into the fire.”
    â€œBut isn’t that a good thing?” Phoebe asked. “Now M., whoever that is, won’t get the message and so won’t kidnap the baby.”
    â€œMaybe not
tonight,
” Sebastian told her. “But do you think that will stop B. and V.? We need to report this, but now we have no proof to take to the captain of the guards.”
    â€œWe can just tell him. Can’t we?”
    â€œEven if we could get in to see him—which is doubtful, considering who we are—why would he believe us without any evidence? We don’t have much credibility, thanks to our fathers.”
    â€œBut a threat