Thrice Upon a Marigold Read Online Free PDF Page B

we’re going to do,” Marigold said. “Immediately.”
    Christian stood up. “Mrs. Clover will have a list of everybody who works in the castle. I’ll have someone fetch it while we get over to the nursery. And we must tell the others.”
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    When they opened the door to the throne room, the card players looked up.
    â€œPoppy may be in danger,” Marigold said. “We’re on the way to the nursery to check on her.”
    â€œThen we’re coming, too,” Swithbert said, throwing down his cards.
    As they made their way through the corridors, Chris said, “There must be fifty people here whose first or last names start with
M
, beginning with Meg, the kitchen maid who’s married to Rollo. I can just imagine how he’d take to the suggestion that his wife might be planning a major crime.”
    Phoebe and Sebastian exchanged a glance as each of them thought,
Thank goodness we never got to talk to Rollo.
    â€œWe have three new staff members with access to the nursery,” Marigold said, alarmed. “Mrs. Sunday, the laundress, and the secretary. I don’t know if any of their names start with
M
. We need to have the crier announce this threat. The whole kingdom has to be on the lookout for any strange behavior. We cannot let this happen.”
    Christian was thinking about how much strange behavior seemed to go on in the kingdom even on the most unremarkable day. For one thing, there was a great white elephant parked in the stables next to the unicorns, who had never really gotten used to him and tried to stampede away whenever he raised his trunk and trumpeted, ramming into whatever got in their way. The stalls were pierced with unicorn-horn holes.
    There was also a wizard who would cheat at cards with a retired king, a current king, the kingdom’s architect, and a troll. And Christian himself had once been a servant in this very castle. Zandelphia-Beaurivage wasn’t exactly an ordinary kingdom.
    Chris put his arms around Marigold and said, “Perhaps, my love, we need a little more information before we tip our hand. Don’t you think that for now it’s better that the culprits don’t know we’re on to them? They may not be as careful if they think their plot is still a secret.”
    Something flipped inside Phoebe’s chest when she saw how tender the king was with the queen, even right on the heels of an argument. She must have made a little sound as she thought about this, because Sebastian said quietly, “What? Do you dispute?”
    â€œHuh? Dispute? No. I mean, I don’t know. He’s the king. He knows better than me. Doesn’t he?”
    â€œBut we know our fathers.” Sebastian coughed to get the king’s attention. “Excuse me, sire,” he said. “I know Vlad—and Boris, too, though not as well—and I haven’t forgotten that they’re clever and ruthless and impatient. Once they get an idea, they’ll want to get it done.”
    â€œBut we intercepted the message,” Phoebe said. “M. doesn’t know anything about the plan.”
    Sebastian turned to face her. “Do you think they would have sent that pigeon out into the storm if they weren’t in a hurry? What makes you think they sent only one pigeon? Wouldn’t your father make sure there was a backup, just in case the first one didn’t get through? I know mine would.”
    â€œAnd so would mine,” Phoebe agreed miserably.
    Without a word, Marigold picked up her pace, and the others followed.
    The crowd burst into the yellow and purple nursery expecting to find a surprised Mrs. Sunday and a sleeping infant.
    They found an empty room.
    No Mrs. Sunday.
    No baby in the cradle.
    Nothing.

5
    M ARIGOLD WAS ON THE verge of a scream when she heard muffled sounds coming from behind the curtained doorway that led to Mrs. Sunday’s sleeping quarters. She pulled back the curtain and saw Mrs.