Page 38 of Chained Knight

“My thanks.” His mouth curved, a smile blooming, and it was official, she was transfixed.

Wow.No doubt she looked completely ridiculous. Ari’s cheeks were flaming hot, and she couldn’t blame it on the bath or the drink. “You’re welcome,” she managed, faintly.

Everyone was silent, as if embarrassed for her. She stared into the cup’s depths, and the longing to be invisible was a familiar half-friend, half-enemy.

At least the chained man didn’t let her suffer long; clearly, it was time to get on with business. “A Conjunction approaches,” he said, gauntleted hands crossed before him, all sharp edges and dark metal amid the softer shadows and more organic textures. If this were a painting, he would definitely be the cynosure; the artist would have to be at the corner near the stairs to arrange each element properly. “I intend to be at the Mirrored City to meet it, which will break the last of the fetters placed upon me after the… misfortune. Of far more importance is our queen’s renewal of the Mere, and the traitor will do all he can to deny that event. Upon every knight present rests the duty of giving him no success in further blasphemy.”

Renewal of the Meresounded like a religious ritual. Mirrored Citywas new—no, wait, she dredged a mention out of memory. That was where the Bright King lived.

The traitor who had strangled the real queen, Ari’s predecessor. Clearly this wasn’t a constitutional monarchy with largely ceremonial duties. She continued staring into the remainder of her drink. Was she supposed to know about the Mere thing? Should she down all of the extra she’d been given, or pour a bit out for the gods of this weird place? Was she required to transubstantiate?

Hannixe set her goblet on the tray. She approached the big chair with a rustle, and sank onto a small ottoman to Ari’s left, a breath of sweet perfume spreading from her skirts. Then, as if it were quite natural, she touched Ari’s elbow. “Come, my lady.” Her eyes sparkled and only a bare trace of huskiness remained inthe words. “A little more, if it please you? It will do naught but g-good.”

Now Ari had to finish the goblet. She was very aware of the stares while she took down more spice-smelling medicine—or was it a wine? These people didn’t seem to eat.

“He will send many Golden,” Jazarl said. “And other, fouler things.”

“Mere dolls will not trouble us overmuch.” The chained man didn’t quite give a dismissive wave, but Ari suspected it was close. “Of far more concern are the restless dead of his Law, for he has gained some slight puissance. They must not be allowed to approach our lady in any wise.”

“Restless dead?” Ari didn’t mean to interrupt, but the phrase was disconcerting. Especially when it called up the memory of those wet slapping footsteps and cold, despairing moans.

Like damned souls,she’d thought, and didn’t it just figure she’d be right about the most horrifying possibility?

“Our old companions.” Keners was back to leaning against the wall near the door, new color in his cheeks. His pale gaze rested on Hannixe, and his hand on rapier-hilt. “Not all, though. I think some of them unlucky mortals; Sarle disagrees.”

“I do.” Sarle stared at the fireplace, tense even while seated. “But wherever they hail from, they are dangerous.”

“Only one fetter remains upon me.” The chained man’s tone remained even, businesslike. “While it does, there is some small difficulty in dealing with those particular abominations.”

A series of alarmed glances exchanged between the men. Even Keners looked a little taken aback. Ari tried not to stare, but their open shock was thought-provoking.

“They are infectious,” the chained man continued, as if not noticing. “So you must take care, and above all do not let them near her.”

“My lord.” Jazarl shifted uncomfortably. His seat squeaked a bit; the small noise was another reminder of this place’s terrifyingly detailed reality. “Should you miss the Conjunction, there might be… further complications.”

“In that event, we will retreat to the Keep and stand a siege.” The chained man didn’t sound particularly worried at the prospect. Nobody mentioned the ‘ten thousand mortal years’ thing again, so maybe that was a figure of speech. “This is not the first war I have fought, my friend.”

Well, that’s comforting. Sort of.Ari’s fingers creaked on the goblet. Hannixe was still watching her, a worried line between dark eyebrows. Was the grey in her hair natural aging, or the result of lingering stress? The rims of her eyelids remained red and faintly swollen. At least her cheeks were soft and unmarked now, and her nose wasn’t pinkened-raw. She still looked way too young for that hair.

“A little more,” the Grey Lady pleaded, quietly. “Please, my lady Ari.”

Even a magical drink couldn’t erase the lump in Ari’s throat. “This traitor—the Bright King, right? What exactly did he do?”

Alzarien studied the floor. Maybe he was grateful she was playing dumb. Even the fire was hushed; the expressioncould hear a pin dropdidn’t quite work in their language, but Ari could think it in English.

That was a relief.

“He placed violent hands upon my lady Moon.” The chained man’s tone could only be described asforbidding. “The fault is mine; I was not present to stop him. He laid his plans well, giving report of a strange irruption near one of the doors to the mortal realm?—”

Nowtherewas a piece of news; she’d been operating off the assumption of a single wormhole or gap. Ari didn’t quite sitbolt-upright, but she certainly stiffened. “There’s more than one entrance?”

It was also confirmation that her theory was entirely sound. Folklore and fiction were full of the idea—openings to fairyland, alternate dimensions, whole other worlds. There were historical reports of people visitingother placesand sometimes returning, and where there was smoke fire couldn’t be far behind.

This still could be a completely different planet, and Ari wasn’t sure about all the stuff that seemed to be magic. Advanced technology couldn’t be ruled out. Did these people onlylookhuman? If they were an alien species…

Worry about that later.The reassurance of finally, for once in her life, having guessed right when it counted was so intense she downed the rest of the goblet; when the drink hit her stomach its warmth could barely compare to that consolation.

“Thereweredoors, yes.” The chained man turned his head, gazing down at her, and he sounded almost pedantic. “The… misfortune closed them, and more cannot occur without a truly blasphemous effort.”

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