Page 37 of Chained Knight

So the stripe-headed guy was good at killing clockworks, which made sense. Were there other small groups hiding elsewhere? Maybe at this Mere, with this Leshe. That was good to know.

“They were taken by stealth, not overmatched in strength.” Keners shot an uneasy glance Ari’s way as well. “But still, the purpose was served.”

The chained man stirred, one of the cables hanging from his arm rippling. “My lady’s handmaiden was well-guarded,” he murmured, and that seemed to be what everyone was wanting to hear.

“Oh indeed, Keners fusses endlessly.” Hannixe presented the flagon in the chained man’s direction. “My lord prince, if it p-pleases you?”

He didn’t move. Yet there was a sharp cracking noise of breakage, and Hannixe smiled as if answered. She turned to pour, concentrating and biting her lip gently while filling a wooden goblet. It had a twin, sitting companionably close, but the other four containers were smoked, bubble-streaked glass, all shot-sized.

However, she only filled the one goblet, swept it from the tray, and presented it to Ari, sinking into a graceful curtsey. “My queen.”

You guys have got to stop. This is ridiculous. But what did it matter?

The bath had maybe sluiced off some of her old life. Her working theory had been admirably proved unless something better came along. The chips and cracks on much-used items or plaster walls, the individual hairs, the creases and small worn spots on clothing—there was no way she could come up with a vision or delirium so detailed.

Ariadne was stuck here, for however long. The problem now was impersonating this queen of theirs; could she claim amnesia forever? Hannixe seemed to believe, but who knew what the others truly thought? Ari’s position depended on the chained man, so she had to keep him happy.

More disturbingly, she didn’t want to go home. This was terrifying and bizarre, true. But it also felt… strangely comforting? And at least the dangers were overt.

Unless she just didn’t know the real ones yet.

“’Tis the greater drink.” Did the chained man sound faintly anxious, or was it her own uncertainty projected onto his flat, just-the-facts-ma’am tone? “It will not have turned as mortal vintage does, nor is it harmful. And your companions may this time share the blessing instead of waiting for the lesser, or the slow restoration of clear water.”

Maybe she was supposed to chug since it was her first time at a party? Ari took the goblet, and didn’t wait.

There was no point.

Cool liquid, vaguely spiced though she couldn’t untangle all the different components. The drink poured down Ari’s throat in a rush, hit her stomach, and spread in a warm velvet hazefar different than the burn of alcohol. An almost-stinging thrill expanded all the way out to fingers and toes, and her scalp tingled as if her hair had joined the party and was attempting to speed-grow.

Ari lowered the carved goblet, exhaling in wonder. The remaining liquid trembled, clear as water, but faint hints of cinnamon, capsaicin, and cardamom simmered in its scent. “Oh, wow,” she breathed, but thankfully the invisible translator swung into operation. “What’s in this?”

“’Tis a mystery. Perhaps Leshe knows, but will not say.” Hannixe beamed, turning back to the tray. The stripe-headed guy held it steady, watching her closely as she poured again—half-filling the other goblet, and dolloping splashes into the collection of small glass containers. “I know ’tis not a knight’s duty, Keners, but will you carry to?—”

“Of course.” He didn’t even wait for the rest of the question, and no hint of irritation was visible at all. “An honour to perform such service, my lady.”

Wow. He’s really gone over her. It was nice to see romance wasn’t dead, though Ari would have to watch carefully to see if he was really even-tempered as he seemed. She took another hit off her drink.Good Lord. This would make millions back home.

Each guy took a shotglass, raised it gravely in her direction, and toasted Hannixe as well before tossing the contents far back. The other woman curtseyed once again before sipping steadily at her own goblet matching Ari’s. Keners settled the tray on a small table near the stairs and went through the motions, lingering over lifting his drink to the Grey Lady and watching her while he swallowed.

The chained man simply stood there, making no move to down a slug.

Ari decided she shouldn’t swill the rest of hers just yet. “Aren’t you going to have any?” A completely uncharacteristic sense of well-being swamped her, along with fresh unease.

Nothing that felt this good was legal, or lasted very long.

“Pleasant, but I do not require.” His dark head tilted, a listening look. “We shall tarry here long enough to regain your strength, then travel to the Mere. It will be easier, now.”

That’s good, I guess. Ari held the goblet up, an offering to his looming; her arm didn’t want to shake. The drink burrowed in, much more filling than the pondwater.

The good feeling of being full, warm, dry, and reasonably safe had to be transitory, but at least she had a breather. “Are you sure? I don’t mind sharing, and you’re probably…” Would he takeyou’re probably tiredas an insult? She didn’t know the rules well enough; this was a risk.

The offer earned her a long considering look, his chin down and that strange, hot gaze resting first on her outstretched hand, then moving to her face. It was unsettling, being watched so closely.

“If my lady offers,” he said softly, “I cannot refuse.” His metal-clad fingers closed around the goblet, brushing hers, and it was also super strange that the armor wasn’t cold but instead skin-warm.

Did he ever take it off? Or was he burning with fever inside its embrace?

He turned the cup slightly, and Ari had the bizarre idea he deliberately rested his lips where her mouth had touched the rim. A single swallow, those dark eyes half-lidding as his throat moved, and he returned the goblet to her numb hand—which had forgotten to return to its proper place, just hanging in the air.

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