Page 34 of Chained Knight

This one seems pretty violent too. “It was an accident.” The lie was reflexive, even in their strange language. “Did you… Are you mortal too?”

“I was awakened in the Whispering; some of your companions are thus. Others were found in the mortal realm long ago.” Hannixe’s large dark eyes, thickly lashed, widened a bit. She searched Ari’s face, and her expression was like an emergency room nurse who knew very well what had happened but was constrained from comment.

Okay. So some are native, and others are… well, at least we’re all bipeds. Ari quickly shifted her gaze to her wet knees, bearing their own ghostly healing bruises and scrapes from God alone knew what. Making her own face a mask to fend off interest or sympathy was an old habit as well. Water lapped the tub’s sides as she shifted. The heat was delicious, soothing faint aches and threatening to turn her into a puddle.

It was the nicest thing about this place so far. But the question of just precisely where she was—another planet, an alternate dimension, Tir nan Og—wouldn’t go away, a nagging pebble worked into a sandal’s sole. And the termfound in the mortal worldwas thought-provoking as well.

If the wormhole or fairy door was two-way, that was certainly a new piece of information. She couldn’t decide if it was comforting or terrifying.

“Well,” the Grey Lady said, finally. Her stutter, like the hoarseness, continued to ebb. “You are here now, and our lord prince will n-not allow further misfortune. He is your first companion and eldest servant.”

He what, now?“Ah.” Ari wished she could press a rewind button on the invisible translator. “Maybe he should find a different job?” The final word was more likeoccupationsince there didn’t seem to be a term approximate tocareer.

Hannixe’s laugh was bell-like, beautiful as the rest of her, echoing against the tiles. Why didn’t they nominateherfor the position of whatever-the-hell? She was certainly more equipped than one tired, battered runaway murderess.

It was self-defense, Ari told herself. The enormity of what she had done hung over her, a wave ready to crash at any moment. Of course, guys who carried bows and rapiers were probably a little more forgiving of her desperate act than, say, a county judge.

Hannixe’s merriment faded; she tilted her head slightly. “Do you think that would please him?” A few small beads of steam-moisture clung to her glossy grey hair. “But let us speak of other things. How has the mortal realm changed? It has been long indeed since we rode to find new companions, or even simply for our queen’s amusement. I wonder at their dreams—have they gone sour?”

Sweetie, you have no idea. “It’s really different than here.” Ari tried to imagine any of these people seeing a car for the first time, or a high-definition flatscreen. A smartphone.

Now she really wished she hadn’t lost the revolver. Jazarl and his guys would probably be all-in on gunpowder, assuming it would put a dent in the big robot-things.

“Well, no matter, there is plenty of time to find out. The Underdark is renewing, and when you visit the Mere…” Hannixe’s broad, happy smile was a wonder, even if her cheekswere still damp and eyelids swollen. “But before that, we must make you comfortable. I have a gown that will suit, brought from the Keep. I have also kept something for you, and will return it anon.”

“That’s really kind of you.” If they started giving Ari heirlooms, it was going to get super awkward. This wasn’t the first mention of the ‘Mere’, either, and apparently something was supposed to happen in that vicinity. Maybe some sort of guerrilla gathering? “But all I need is…”

What? What exactly did she want? Well, staying in this bathtub forever would be a good start, though hardly rational or achievable.

“I can barely believe it.” Hannixe’s fingers were cool and dry, brushing a wet curl resting on Ari’s shoulder as if touching something precious. “So long, waiting and never speaking. How could I, with my queen gone? And in such t-terrible circumstances; there is not a sword sharp enough to p-punish the faithless accursed for what he has done. But I suspect our lord prince will find one to suit, and you need only stay with us. S-say you will, my lady Ari.” Her eyes shone, and her accent on the name was slightly different than Jazarl’s. “Do not leave us again.”

They kept using the wordqueen, and Ari was good old-fashioned melting-pot American, not a drop of blue blood in the entire family tree.

When these people found out, what would happen? Could she afford to let that be a problem for Future Ariadne, who was already looking at a whole tsunami’s worth of trouble?

“I’ll try,” she mumbled, and also tried not to see Hannixe’s brightening, like a child promised early Christmas.

The dress was far paler than Hannixe’s though sewn on the same lines, and both too loose in the bust and too long in the skirt until the other woman bent, her fingers flicking. A burst of strange musky non-perfume, a humming sound, and suddenly the hem was at Ari’s ankles. Another soft thrum, and the bodice became closer but not overly snug.

If it wasn’t magic, it was so close as to make no difference. Or maybe it was an incomprehensible technology, like steam engines or silicon chips might be for these people? Except if there was an entrance-or-exit and companions were ‘found’, had anyone fled intoherworld to escape the Bright King and the Golden?

Were there old stories about the hills near town? The Hardisons would never have talked about such things except to scoff and Ari hadn’t had time or inclination to research local folklore. Imagining Jazarl or Alzarien strolling down Main Street might’ve been amusing if not for the likely reaction of cops to rapier-bearing strangers with Kool-Aid hair.

Even the underlayer and shift Hannixe bundled her into were comfortable, and Ari wished she’d taken a few history-of-fashion classes. It would be nice to know if this was from a particular era; the V-waist looked medieval and the square neck was lower than she liked. Still, it was pretty, tiny pearls sewn in patterns along the neck, hem, and the long belling oversleeve cuffs. A few more bursts of that shower-and-laundry magic, Hannixe’s brow furrowed with concentration, and the gown fit as if it had been tailored.

Actually, the dress was flat-out lovely. The only problem was Ari couldn’t believe it looked even close to reasonable onsomeone likeher. The urge to spin like a little girl in a princess costume, just to hear multiple heavy skirts move with that soft sweet sound, was overwhelming.

She quashed it, ruthlessly.

“There,” the Grey Lady said, nodding sharply. The two thin braids framing her face swayed with the motion, and this close Ari could see they were tied with grey ribbon matching her dress. “Slippers for my lady queen, too. First, though…”

A small table—it looked very much like polished rosewood—next to a pair of scarecrow-armed clothing racks held a dark wooden coffer, opening under Hannixe’s slim fingers. A bright silver gleam burst free, casting sharp shadows on the heavily timbered ceiling.

It was a necklace—or more properly, a torc. A restrained silver curve held a single large clear gem full of white light; Ari’s jaw felt suspiciously loose for the umpteenth time since landing in this dimension. The piece looked heavy, plainness of design barely saving it from overdone barbarism. Yet only that weight could possibly balance the jewel’s glow, not merely throwing back available light with magnificent prodigality but luminous in its own right, like a star caught in crystalline glass.

“It’s beautiful,” she managed, accents finally falling in the right places.

“The Carcanet.” Hannixe’s smile was nearly as bright. “Let me have the honour, my queen?”

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