I followed the guard back down to the kitchens. I was conscious of my bulging pockets but he didn't seem to notice.

"Took your time, didn't you?" barked the Cook. "Now get back to those potatoes before I give you the beating you deserve!" She jabbed one of the profiteroles she'd been filling with cream threateningly in my direction.

Healing always took it out of me and I had to exercise a great deal of will power to stop my hands from shaking as I peeled with the other slaves until the pile was done. Next the kitchen hands brought baskets of apples for us to peel. My eyelids were getting heavier, I had to grip the apples hard to stop them slipping out of my tired hands. When we'd finished one basket, the kitchen hands would bring another. Just when I was beginning to think it would never end, the bell rang for dinner.

Dinner, it turned out, was the same vegetable broth as lunch but watered down now and without the bread. I thought of the food in my pockets and looked forward to the time when I would be unobserved for long enough to eat it.

The guard from outside Jemima's room barrelled down the stairs, came up behind the cook and slipped his arms around her waist.

"Get off me you soppy so and so!" She giggled and batted him away. "If the Head Cook catches you down here, he'll have your guts for garters."

"Like to see him try," he snatched a profiterole from the tray Cook was working on and stuffed it into his mouth. "Dog's better," he mumbled through a mouthful of pastry.

"Is it now? I thought that mutt was a goner."

"It looked that way, that's for sure. But you should see it now, running around in circles and jumping up and down. Princess Jemima says he must've just been tired."

I smiled to myself.

After dinner we were led to a big stone trough full of water and an enormous pile of dirty pots and pans.

"I want that lot so shiny I can see my face in 'em," snarled the cook and threw a wooden brush at each if us. We scrubbed till well after nightfall and by the time we'd finished my fingers were raw, my whole body ached and I was soaked in dishwater and sweat.

We traipsed wearily behind the guards into the courtyard, where barrels of water had been set out for us to wash in. I cupped my hands and splashed my face. It felt so good to wash away the caked on salt and soothe my sore arms in the cold water. I collapsed down on the grass and lay spread eagled on my back to dry off, all my muscles aching, taking in great gulps of fresh air. Just as I was about to doze off the guard shouted, "Alright, that's enough. Back down into the dungeons with you." They herded us back through the kitchens and down the steps into the mouldy-smelling dungeons.

"Two to a cell. No talking." The guard's voice echoed through the cavernous space and Meghan took me by the arm and led me into one of the cells. There were no beds; just a pile of straw on the floor and the ceiling was too low to stand, so we sat down. The guard's key rattled as he locked the barred door behind us. It was too dark in here for the guard to see us so I took the napkins out of my pocket and silently shared the food with Meghan. We gulped it down, filling out empty stomachs. Food had never tasted so good.

When we'd finished every last crumb, I wiped my mouth on my napkin and leaned in close.

"Meghan," I whispered. "Something bad's happened back home." She cocked her head towards me and listened intently while I told her all about the plague in Merlax and how I'd come to get the Plaguesbane fruit from the Imperial Garden but I needed the Head Gardener, Ilfred, to tell me where to find it.

"This Ilfred — does he have a long white beard?"

"Yes."

"His cell's that way," she whispered, pointing along the corridor in the opposite direction from the stairs. "Only yesterday, I saw Morwain striding off down there with a couple of guards. A few minutes later he came back and the guards were dragging an old man with a long white beard. That must be Ilfred. He looks very frail. How will you get to him though? We're watched all day and at night we're locked up."

"I'll find a way I told her. Now get some sleep, Meghan." We lay back to back on the floor. Meghan curled up into a ball.

"Daisy," she whispered. "After you've found the Plaguesbane and taken it back to Frailing and saved the people there, will you come back and rescue us?" I was silent for a few breaths, listening to my heartbeat. My heart gave me the answer.

"I will, Meghan. You can be sure of it. I'll come back and rescue you, I promise." She sighed a satisfied sigh which soon turned into a soft snore.

I was exhausted, every muscle ached but I knew I had no time to sleep. I sat up, crossed my legs and slowed my breathing. I stilled my mind and body and hoped. Before long my hopes were fulfilled. There was a rustling in the straw in front of me and a little mouse's head popped up and looked at me. I reached out and gently touched it's furry back. By now I was getting used to the wave that rippled through me, from my feet to my head, the lurching in my stomach, the dizziness in my head as my body shrunk and changed shape. Next thing I knew I was mouse-sized. I snuffled my nose, twitched my whiskers and swept my tail from side to side, then scuttled out of my empty tunic.

In the darkness my tiny eyes could only make our blurred shapes but my sense of smell was excellent. The discarded napkin gave off a rich and heady aroma of cheese and seed cake so powerful it was almost intoxicating. My hearing was sharp. Snores and rustlings from several cells away were loud and clear to me. The other mouse came over to sniff me, paying me only faint interest before scurrying away.

I crawled through the straw and under the bars out of the cell. In the corridor, I turned left and scampered along the wall in the direction Meghan had pointed. I could hear voices up ahead and I headed towards them. Suddenly I smelt something which I knew instinctively meant danger.

I froze, my fur standing on end, my little heart racing. All my senses screamed at me to run but before I could escape, the greyhound's wet black nose was in my face, the jaws and teeth beneath dripping with slobber, his warm breath engulfing me. I braced myself to feel the jaws close around me.

But they didn't.

Instead the greyhound lost interest and trotted back to his lying-down spot against the opposite wall.

Now my whole body was trembling, my little lungs panting for air. I took a couple of deep slow breaths and composed myself before carrying on along the wall. The voices were closer now. They were coming from a corridor off on the left hand side. I turned into it and scurried towards them. Two men were sitting on the ground outside one of the cells, talking. Staying close to the wall so they wouldn't see me I moved closer and peered inside the cell. With my weak eyes I could just make out two men in the red and gold guards' uniform. Between them, lying on the ground was a man with a long white beard.

With guards on either side there was no way I could change back to my human form and ask him the whereabouts of the Plaguesbane without being spotted. Even if I was to get a note to him somehow, how would he be able to reply? No, this avenue was closed to me. I would have to find one of the Secret Gardeners and ask them. Surely they couldn't all be as heavily guarded. It was then that I noticed what the two guards outside the cell were saying.

"I don't like it. Makes me nervous."

"Why? Makes our job easier. Since Morwain gave the Secret Gardeners that Long Sleep Draft, they haven't woken once."

"Yeah!" agreed one of the guards inside the cell. "There's no better prisoner than a sleeping prisoner."

"I know but what if he did it to us? You know how angry Morwain gets. What if we displeased him in some way and he made us drink that Long Sleep Draft too. It's like being dead but you're not actually dead, you're just really fast asleep. Makes me nervous."

"Oh give over and pass me that wine. You think too much!"

Oh dear! I thought. Another avenue closed. Morwain had used magic to put the gardeners to sleep indefinitely. What could I do now? I headed back to our cell, my little brain feverishly trying to think of a plan. If I stayed with the slaves maybe I could find another way to get to Ilfred. At that moment I heard two more voices. Two guards were walking down the corridor towards me.

"Aren't you pleased?" said one of them. "It'll get us out of this dingy dungeon for a bit."

"What are you talking about?" asked the other one.

"Haven't you heard? We're taking all the slaves out of the city tomorrow. The farmers in the royal orchards at the bottom of the hill need help harvesting the apples. We've got to take the slaves down there and stay with them until it's done."

Uh oh! What now? If I stayed with the slaves I'd be taken out of Jamain tomorrow and I'd never get to Ilfred. I'd never find out where the Plague Tree was. Now I needed a Plan C. I was aware time was passing by. The sun rose early this far south. Soon I was going to have to change back and when I did I'd need something to wear, something that wasn't slave clothes.

I had an idea.

😉

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