Fortune's Fool - Mercedes Lackey [121]
“What?” The sparkle in her eyes made Katya think that it was probably a very mad idea—and in this case, the madder, the better.
“Come on! No skulking, no hiding! Everyone laugh and talk! We’re making cakes!” She seized Magda by the hand and hauled her out the door, laughing and chattering more than enough to cover up Magda’s astonished silence.
“Oh yes!” said, of all people, Guiliette. She clapped her hands and began to giggle, in a little silvery laugh, and glided out the door after her. Whatever Klava had thought of then dawned on Marina, who also laughed, grabbed Lyuba, and ran after. The rest followed, though it was clear that most of them had no idea why they were making so much noise. Still, Klava seemed certain of her idea, and both Guiliette and Marina had also figured out her plan and liked it, and that was enough for Katya.
The mob of young women streamed down the corridors, occasionally meeting with some of the Jinn’s hired guards. To each of them, Klava cried merrily, “We’re making cakes!” and somehow this pronouncement turned puzzled and suspicious looks and even frowns to indulgent smiles.
“You go right ahead, dearies,” said one grizzled old veteran, and “Make some for me!” cried a younger man.
Then they ran right into the mercenary Captain, and Katya’s heart went cold. If there was anyone in the Castle who could and would stop them—
He eyed them as they approached. “And what—” he began in a rumble.
“We’re making cakes!” Klava cried, dropping Magda’s hand and dancing up to him. “We’ll make some for all the men, too!”
And to Katya’s astonishment, that hardened veteran paused, and slowly smiled. “Well now, and that’s more like it, acting like real girls and not all this moping about,” he said with a nod. “Time you brightened up. You go on, have your fun, and don’t worry if them cakes don’t come out. I’ll make the mess right with the cook in the morning.”
“Thank you!” Klava cried, and jumped up to peck the man on the cheek like a child. The Captain actually blushed, and waved them all past. Katya and the others managed to gather their wits enough to chorus “Thank you!” as they passed him, and a few corridors later, they swarmed into the kitchen where Klava shut the door and put her back against it.
“By the saints! I thought that would work!” she said, looking very well pleased with herself. “What’s more, if the bottle is in one of those ovens, now we have an excuse to take it out.”
“What, exactly, did we just do?” Katya asked.
It was Marina who replied. “Village girls, girls in big schools, sometimes in convents if they are not yet novices—this is something that we just do. Usually at night, when kitchens are clear; it often happens that everyone has been gossiping or telling fortunes, and everyone has gotten a little hungry, and someone says, ‘Let’s make cakes!’ and everyone goes and does it.”
“Exactly,” Klava nodded. “I went to a big school for girls for a while before my wizard asked my parents for me as an apprentice. Now, we really will have to make cakes, but don’t worry, it’s easy, I know how, and I’ll show you while Katya looks for the bottle.”
The soft sound of a hoof on the outer door made them all start except Katya, who ran to it and opened it. Sergei stood there with his ears up and his eyes wild with curiosity. “We are covering our subterfuge with noise,” she explained. “I need to start checking ovens—”
“I can explain,” said Guiliette, “since I will be of very little help in the cooking.”
So Guiliette explained what was going on to Sergei, while Klava apportioned the tasks in cake-making, and Katya began cautiously peering into the banked ovens.
And there it was, tucked into one side of the third oven—well out of the way of any actual baking that would go on, but safe enough from someone who didn’t know where to look for it.
“I’ve found it,” she called softly to Klava, who was instructing a bemused Yulya how to sift flour. “How do I get it out?”
The apprentice left her pupil and came to peer into the oven, then looked around the kitchen for something. “Ah!