"Wine and the aging thereof," he whispered back.
The room was all stone, stinking of yeast, casks lining the walls and glass bottles filled with infusions of various flowers. There were rose petals, violet petals, whole heads of marigolds, nettles floating like organic space ships, and other herbs she could not identify.
"What are those?" she whispered. There was no one in the room.
"Wormwood, yarrow, cowslip, gillyflowers, agrimony, fennel—"
"I bet you drink a lot of herbal tea," she said.
He did not smile as he directed her toward the smaller of the two doors in the room. She wondered if he even realized it was a joke.
"Laundry," he said.
The next room was filled with as much or more steam than the kitchens. It wafted up through small vents in the ceiling. In the room were several large tubs filled with soapy water. One pale woman with dark eyes was wringing out a white cloth while another was stirring the contents of a tub with a long crooked stick. A man with long arms and a hunched back was adding some granules to the mix, making the water hiss.
It was a small space, and Kaye cast a glance at Roiben. There was no way they could get through the room without anyone seeing them.
"Maigret," Roiben said, grinning as he opened his arms wide.
One of the laundry women looked up, her grin showing she was missing a tooth. "Our knight!" She limped over and gave him a highly ordinary hug. Her feet were hidden beneath the long skirts of her dress, and Kaye could not glimpse to see if there was something actually wrong with them. Across the room, the man and woman looked up from their duties and smiled too. "You're one I thought sure never to see again."
"I'm looking for a boy," Roiben said. "Human. With your new King."
The woman made a disgusted sound. "That one… King indeed! Yes, there's a boy about, but I can't tell you more than that. I've learned better than to draw the eye of Gentry."
Roiben smiled wryly. "And I as well."
"They're looking for you, you know."
He nodded. "I made a rather spectacular end to my service here."
The old laundress cackled and bid them farewell. Roiben opened a small door and they emerged into a hallway of shimmering mica.
"How do you know they won't tell anyone they saw us?"
"Maigret thinks she owes me a debt." He shrugged.
"Is something wrong with her feet?"
"She disappointed one of the Unseelie Gentry. He had iron shoes heated red-hot before he made her dance in them."
Kaye shuddered. "Does that have something to do with the debt she thinks she owes you?"
"Perhaps," he allowed.
"What about through there?"
"There's the library, the music room, the conservatory, and the chess room."
"Chess room?"
"Yes, chess was well loved by the Queen. They gamble with it like mortals gamble with cards. She once used it to win a consort, as I recall."
"Corny loves chess—he was on the chess team in high school."
"We must go through the library to get there." He hesitated.
"What's the matter?"
"We've seen no guards. Not at the entrance and not even here."
"What if that means we're just doing really, really well?"
"Of a surety, it means something."
The door to the library was mammoth and elegant, clearly different from the plainer doors in the lower chambers. It was dark wood, banded with copper, carved with a language she could not read. Roiben pushed the door, and it opened.
Bookshelves were arranged in a maze, so tall that it was impossible to see across the room to whatever exit there was. The shelves themselves were intricately carved with faces of gargoyles and other strange beasts, and there was the overwhelming scent of turned earth. Whenever Kaye looked in one direction, something seemed to shift in the corner of her eye. The books themselves were in such varied sizes that she wondered who read them all. As they walked, she tried to scan the titles, but they were all in strange languages.
As they turned a corner, she saw a shape slide between the shadows. It was slender and vaguely human.
"Roiben," she whispered.
"The keepers of secrets," he said, not looking back. "They will tell no one of our passing."
Kaye shuddered. She wondered what was written in the tomes that lined the shelves of the library if the idea was to keep secrets. Were the shapes custodians or guardians or scribes?
As they came to a crossroads in the bookshelves, she saw another dark shape, this one with long, pale hair that started too high on its forehead and large, glittering black eyes. It slipped into the shadows as easily and soundlessly as the first one.