Page 19 of Chained Knight

It figured, just when she was feeling halfway competent her body had decided to register a complaint at all the bullshit she’d put it through. Still, this could be a good sign. Lungs and heart didn’t usually go wonky on her until the worst was over. All she needed was a few quiet moments, but there was no bathroom door to lock—even one with Wanda Lee cawing on the other side would work, or Mike banging because he justhadto have her attention all the time.

Maybe her husband was afraid he’d vanish if someone wasn’t looking. Who knew?

“Hold her steady.” Jazarl was good at managing things. He sounded a little like Mom when there was a crisis to deal with—firm, calm, no-nonsense. Someone had Ari’s shoulders, keeping her upright, and at the moment she didn’t care that she was alone with a group of strange men.

If they were going to do something awful, now was probably the time. She could just disconnect, let whatever would happen wash over her.

“Hewould not like this,” Sarle commented darkly. “I swear to you, the water was?—”

“We all drank, ’tis not the water. You see the light as I do, my friend.” Majan, quiet and practical. “She is but recently mortal, and bore the appearance of the Golden with much courage. No wonder she is faint—but we should move. I like not how quiet it has grown.”

Recently mortal. Golden. Thank goodness for the invisible translator, Ari thought, dreamily. If she had to resort to drawing pictographs, this entire situation might be even more bizarre, not to mention terrifying.

Though it was certainly winning awards on both fronts. The real question was if this was truly better or worse than what she’d left behind?

And would she be catapulted back if there was another rainstorm?

What a gruesome thought, thanks. Another wave of galvanic shakes poured through bone and muscle, her heartbeat blurring like hummingbird wings. She tried to focus on breathing, achieving steady sips of cool, night-fragrant air.

“The forest renewed, the Moon arisen once more,” Alzarien weighed in. His voice was near her left ear, so she knew who was holding her up on that side. “The faithless accursed will know what has happened as well. He does not lack eyes.”

Silence. Ari fought to even out her breathing, telling herself there was enough oxygen, she just had to keep dragging it down her windpipe. Thankfully nobody was yelling at her. In fact, they all seemed to regard being a bit shaky as a reasonable response to current events, which was… nice, she supposed, if not exactly comforting.

“We make for the Road, and Gesthel,” Jazarl said, heavily. “We will hear the abominations if they approach. Our aim is not to offer battle but to protect our lady. If she cannot walk we will carry her.”

That would be so fucking embarrassing. Which meant Ari had to force her eyes open, finding a moon-silvered clearing, a ring of anxious faces, the sound of wavelets lapping at a pond’s shore, and a breathless hush among the tall grey pillar-trees. “I can walk.” She had to say it slowly so the invisible translator would work, and the words slurred as if she’d been at whiskey shots instead of pondwater. “I’ll go.”

Being left in the woods with those metalthingswas too much to contemplate. So she stiffened, leaned into Alzarien’s grip, and told her legs they were just going to have to get with the program, however outlandish it turned out to be.

This entire lunatic situation was indeed better than what she’d escaped, Ari finally decided.

But not by much.

13

KNIGHTS OF THE KEEP

Stone blocksglowed yellow in moonlight. The vista could be a landscape print hung in a spare room—if guests didn’t mind a persistent sense of unease, either from the slight alienness of foliage or the eerily flawless silvery orb hanging above. Or maybe it was only current events turning a pretty view into something far more sinister; Ari couldn’t tell.

Jazarl waited for what seemed an eternity, crouched and staring at the road from behind a screen of leather-leaved bushes, before motioning them all forward. Walking helped; Ari was finally able to breathe deeply again, and each lungful of cool clear air put a little more of the terror and uncertainty behind her.

Maybe having other people around helped as well. Humans were tribal creatures, and there was a certain comfort in being part of a group. She’d almost forgotten—for so long her world had been that awful white mansion, the town simply enemy territory she had to navigate with an apologetic smile and quick steps.

That’s Mike Hardison’s wife. Got her in the big city, she don’t talk to anyone. Stuck-up, I guess.

Christ, she would be glad to never see or even think of that shitty whistle-stop burg ever again. Like any wish, though, it carried a terrible price tag. At least big, shiny, murderous robots didn’t pretend to be friendly.

The guys traded off positions, keeping her surrounded—one on either side, one before, one behind, as if she was some kind of VIP to be ushered along Secret Service-style. Unease at being hemmed in warred with cautious relief, especially as the big blank-faced moon sank gently to the horizon.

When the sky was half-full of grey and traces of mist crept between the trees, Jazarl called a halt. Off the road, safe behind a screen of undergrowth, they offered her more water from their oddly shaped canteens.

Ari turned it down as politely as possible, and they were back to hiking shortly afterward. Then, at dawn, came another shock—the daylight here, bright but reddish, turned out to be that way because the sun was a giant exhausted crimson orb.

There were limits even to doubting one’s own perceptions, Ari discovered; the big gold-armored robot was one, and the sun was another. Was it a red giant, on its last hydrogen legs?

Now she had to worry about the sun going out, too.Should’ve gotten a degree in astrophysics instead, she thought, and couldn’t restrain a tired, hiccuping chuckle.

“My lady?” Majan’s forehead wrinkled. He was trooping along on her right again; her arm still remembered his grasp during the wild flight from the robots. The feeling was familiar, a bruise deciding if it wanted to rise to the surface.

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