Page 33 of Chained Knight

The thatched house’s interior was pure medieval cottagecore except for large metallic globes held in branching wooden stands or jutting from the walls, providing steady golden light. Ari half expected to see antique switches and outlets, but none were apparent; a prosaic wood-fueled blaze crackled merrily in the big stone fireplace. Three chunky wooden chairs with heavy overstuffed cushions sat nearby, accompanied by mismatchedottomans; long benches crouched on either side of the front door, the left with a row of pegs over it and the right under a heavily shuttered window with a thick wooden bar. An honest-to-gosh spinning wheel stood in one corner; a butcherblock table laden with bunches of herbs, a black iron cauldron, alembics and other paraphernalia lingered along the back wall, and every window, not just the front, was shuttered as well as barred.

Except for that little detail, it could have been a Pre-Raphaelite stage set. Especially with the inhabitant’s graceful skirts and sweet heart-shaped face. Rosetti would have loved her, though she didn’t have Siddons’s lush mouth.

“’Tis homelike, at l-least.” The Grey Lady coughed delicately, the back of one hand held to her lips; her cheeks glistened with fresh tears. “Oh, pay no m-mind to my weeping; joy is difficult after s-so much sorrow. Let me…” She threw her arms around Ari again, squeezing hard, and it wasn’t so bad to have the shakes if someone else was trembling too.

“It’s all right,” Ari repeated, faintly. Why couldn’t she have met this woman first? The relief of another female creature was almost as overwhelming as the fear. “I, uh… I don’t know…”

“You must be so c-confused.” She cleared her throat, and only let go of Ari to hold her at arm’s length, stepping back and examining her from head to toe with swift thoroughness. “Recently mortal, our lord prince said? And arrived but a few nights ago. Come, this way.”

The guys evidently had no problem having this lady deal with the problem Ari represented. A hot shameful burst of gratitude almost made her stupid knees buckle again.

A staircase reared behind a thick fall of heavy dark-blue cloth. The Grey Lady beckoned her along, and Ari found herself obeying with the dazed feeling of a good dream instead of nightmare. “I woke up in a pond.” It didn’t sound completely outlandish, which was great; still, if this woman didn’t believeher, what would she do? “And I don’t know anything. Mortal, Underdark, faithless accursed—they keep saying these things, and I don’t… I don’t…”

“Men.” The other woman held her skirts with one hand as she climbed, an easy natural movement. Her voice was far less hoarse now, an instrument regaining flexibility after much-needed tuning up. “Once they s-stable the equines they will r-return, and Keners will bar the door. He is quite—but forgive me, I was never so ch-chattersome before. Come, come. You are d-dressed most oddly; we shall remedy that.”

Oh, great. Ari had to keep a hand on the plastered wall since there was no banister, and she climbed slowly, getting both boots on a step before attempting the next one. “You’re very kind,” she began, diplomatically. “But I was thinking, maybe I should just?—”

“And your accent is so charming! S-so quaint.” The Grey Lady reached the head of the stairs and turned, almost hopping on slippered feet as she made balletic hurrying movements with her pretty hands. She coughed again, dryly, and Ari thought maybesheneeded some magic pondwater. “We will have long ch-chats, just as w-we used to.”

Used to?“I’m very sorry.” Ari halted on the next stair, bracing herself against the wall. “But I’m not what you think.”

For Chrissake, just play along,the voice of self-preservation howled inside her head. But she couldn’t lie to this very nice woman, and if she was going to make any sort of move on her own instead of being dragged along in a fucked-up fairytale the time was probably now.

Like what? Come on, Ari.Just like her hazy fantasies of escaping the mansion on Hardison Hill, any attempt to improv against the script these people operated from was doomed to failure.

The scenery was different, but she was still trapped.

“You don’t r-remember.” The Grey Lady became somber, her big dark eyes glistening. The red rims of her eyelids looked as if she’d sobbed so hard something was permanently damaged, and a sharp thin pang speared Ari’s chest. “That is n-natural. But you are our lady Moon.Hewould not b-be here otherwise.” Funny, how the stress on a pronoun could make the subject so clear.

“All I did was get his sword,” Ari mumbled, and immediately wanted to kick herself. She’d been so careful not to breathe a word of finding the chained man in the Keep—although it seemed faintly ridiculous now, since he could very much tell the guys himself.

Had he? The thought made her feel vaguely unsteady. Not so much as the horrible bone-bridge over the canyon, though. Her knees, not to mention her stomach, werestillunhappy about that—and what else was lurking on this terrible planet?

She should be counting her blessings, really. What if the landslide had knocked her somewhere there wasn’t breathable air instead of this terrifying, beautiful place?

“And do you think any but the Moon herself could have freed that blade?” The Grey Lady shook her head. “Come, m-my queen. A few more steps, a bath, and then we shall have you in some more c-comfortable cloth. We are friends of old, and you will remember soon enough.”

Will I?When was the last time she’d had a female friend? She and Mom had moved so often, then graduation and Mike had separated her from college roommates. Women weren’t automatically trustworthy, of course—look at Wanda, for example. But still…

Ari hesitated, and the Grey Lady stepped down once, twice. She reached for Ari’s free hand, cradling it in both of hers, and had to hunch slightly to do so, slim shoulders curving inward.

“I am Hannixe,” she said, in that husky, broken little voice, gazing into Ari’s eyes. “I have n-not spoken since you left. Do you think I would now, if I did not r-recognize what you are?”

Ari’s mouth crumpled.Oh, crap. Don’t cry, don’t you dare cry.

But it was no use. The tears came anyway, and she let the other woman draw her up the final few steps.

20

HAVE THE HONOUR

A bathtubof bright coppery metal crouched in a small tiled room, and though Ari would have never believed it, the house seemed to have enough plumbing to bring hot, faintly floral-scented water from a curved pipe set in the wall when Hannixe pulled a chain.

The other woman even turned politely away while Ari struggled out of every stitch—jeans, T-shirt, flannel, underthings, socks—to clamber into the tub. At least she hadn’t had to put up with an underwire during all this, and the chained man’s magic laundry-and-shower service meant her socks weren’t overly ripe. Her hiking boots looked sadly battered; even though high-quality they were also old, and had seen service she was certain they hadn’t been designed for.

The Grey Lady settled on a small three-legged stool beside the tub; Ari sat in silken-hot water, hugging her bare knees. How long had it been since she’d taken an actual bath? The copper container was luxuriously deep, but she still felt… vulnerable.

“’Tis goodhedid not see these.” Hannixe peered at the healing bruises on Ari’s arm—some from being yanked aroundduring the fight against the clockworks, the dim shadows of older ones layered underneath. There were more up and down her ribcage and on her thighs; apparently the magical pondwater eased pain and sped healing, but couldn’t completely erase damage. The back of her head wasn’t tender anymore, though, and no scabs met her questing fingertips when Ari poked under her hair. “And on your throat, I did not notice those before either. The mortal realm is cruel.”

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