Celie wanted Queen Amatopeia to like her, because she loved Lulath like a brother and she knew it was important to Lilah that they impress her future mother-in-law. But when you spent at least part of your day rolling around in the grass with a griffin, it was hard to see the point in changing one mostly clean gown for another, just because the clock struck a certain hour.
It was hard to remember, too, that even the dinners with just Lulath’s parents and one or two of his siblings counted as official state dinners, and not family dinners. In the Castle, state dinners were rare, and though Glower family dinners included Lulath, Pogue, and often several members of the Royal Council, King Glower himself often sat down with his collar askew and ink splotches on his sleeves.
It was nearly an hour before they were rolling down the smooth-paved roads of Taran, the seaside capital of Grath. The Sanctuary sat on the southern cliff that overlooked the sea, and Taran was laid out on the sloping hill to the north and west, extending to the grasslands north of the ocean and the low docks on the west.
The buildings were higher and the streets wider than in Sleyne City, but the people seemed no less friendly. They stopped and waved to the royal coaches as Celie and her family passed through the streets. Children shouted out, asking where the griffins were, and Celie waved and pointed upward. Far above them the griffins circled, and the children screamed in delight when they spotted them.
The road along the docks curled to follow the line of the shore, with the city on the right side of the coaches and the long wooden docks full of ships on their left. Celie climbed over Lilah and stuck her head out the window to look at all the ships. Some were narrow and sleek with blue sails, while others had yellow sails and little hatches close to the waterline, where oars would be put out and the ship could be rowed in calm winds.
They passed ships from every country, except for landlocked Sleyne, and then they came to a long beach, where no docks were built but a rocky construct jutted out into the water. Rolf called something back from the coach in front of them, but Celie couldn’t understand.
“Those are the ruins of the old palace,” Lilah said. “Apparently the first palace of Grath was built right on the water, but a huge storm destroyed most of it.”
“Oh,” Celie said.
She couldn’t blame them for wanting to build the new palace so high on the cliff, then, if all that was left of the previous palace was part of a wall. If Lilah hadn’t said something, she would have just assumed it was a pile of rocks that happened to be there, not the ruins of an entire palace.
Then they were passing docks again, but these were patrolled by soldiers in the blue uniforms of the Grathian Guard. The buildings on the right side of the coaches were all official looking, and the ships on the left were all of the same design: sleek and tall, with blue sails and the names of Grathian kings painted in gold on the bows.
At the end of the row of Grathian ships was a great deal of lumber and a great many men shouting and swearing and swinging things around with ropes and pulleys. Off to one side were the huge carts that had been used to haul the parts of the ship from Sleyne.
Perched atop the nearest cart was Bright Arrow, Pogue’s griffin. When he had realized that they were going to change their clothes and ride in carriages, Pogue had left for the docks on his own. Now he climbed down from a wooden support frame and bowed to Queen Celina.
She smiled fondly back. “How is the building going, Sir Pogue?” she asked.
“Well enough,” he said. “As far as I can tell.”
“Is there something wrong?” Lilah asked anxiously. She looked at the ship, and then back at Pogue. “I mean, I know you’re working very hard, but you’ve never built a ship before . . .”
“Lilah,” their mother said in a warning tone.
“Is that what this is?” Pogue asked. “You’re checking to make certain I don’t ruin your ship?”
“Where is Master Cathan?” Lilah demanded. “I thought you were just here to help the shipwright, not actually build the ship.”
“Is this what happens when we leave the Castle?” Celie asked Rufus, who had landed beside her. “We just bicker and act awful and feel awful?”
Her own unease—that feeling she had had at the Sanctuary that she didn’t belong and needed to go—was actually worse now. She felt even more strange and feverish, and she could tell by the way Pogue and Lilah were arguing that they felt it, too. Arrow, from his perch on the cart, began to shriek in distress, and Juliet wouldn’t land at all; she just circled above them in agitation.
“What is that?” Celie said to Rufus. He cocked his head to one side, and she could see that his attention was on it as well.
There was an enormous wooden frame all around where the ship was being built. Inside the frame, the ship was already a sort of wooden skeleton, much farther along than Celie would have thought it could be in a week. To one side were enormous timbers, smoothed and planed and carefully stacked, ready to make up the sides and decks. One of the carts still held large crates of sails, carefully packed instruments, and the canvas-wrapped figurehead that had started all of this.
Celie had found the figurehead, a beautifully carved and gilded griffin, in a storage room in the Castle, along with the original sails and many of the parts of the Builder’s Ship. The Builder of the Castle—the ancient king who had ruled a country called Hatheland and fought alongside griffins and created the Castle that Celie loved—had also been known for his ship, which was being re-created now for Lilah and Lulath.
Sleyne was nowhere near the ocean and didn’t have a lake large enough to sail such a ship on. Celie had to grudgingly admit that it would be better to give the new ship to her sister and Lulath than to keep the figurehead propped up in the corner of the throne room.
But during the last few months, as Celie and her family had chased an evil wizard through passages inside the very walls of the Castle, Celie had found that parts of the Castle had been created not by the Builder but by his enemies from the Glorious Arkower. Rather than destroying these things, Celie had hit upon the idea of using them—of creating a ship that would have parts from Sleyne, Hatheland, Grath, and the Glorious Arkower.
Which, Celie saw, was the current problem.
The figurehead would be the very last thing to be put on the ship, except for the sails. Even Celie, with no experience in building ships, could see that. So she could understand why those things were off to one side. But what she and Rufus had seen was a big pile of doors, doors that had once concealed the secret passages the Arkish had built. They weren’t stacked neatly, the way the other materials were. They were tossed aside, and men were walking over them, looking irritated, as they went about their jobs.
“Pogue,” Celie said.
But Pogue and Lilah were now in a heated argument, and Queen Celina was doing nothing to stop them. Arrow had flown up to join Juliet and Lady Griffin, but they weren’t playing, they were circling around and around in agitation, screeching at each other. It was making the workmen nervous, and Celie didn’t blame them. Even if you didn’t know anything about griffins, there was no mistaking the sound of an animal that was growing angry.
“Pogue!” Celie said again, louder and more insistently.
“What? What do you want?” he snapped.