Fire In The Blood (Shards Of A Broken Sword Book 2) (8 page)

To Rafiq’s eyes, Kako looked distinctly pale.

“Oh, at least,” she agreed. “But the sashes will stretch just the same. Space in Faery is different when you’re on a quest.”

Prince Akish sniffed. “I’ve not heard any such thing.”

Kako, busily tying one his sashes around her waist and draping the remaining sashes over one arm, said: “It’s simple addition: one Enchanted Keep, one quest, and one required item, equals a warping in space and sometimes time.”

The prince began to look distinctly annoyed, and Rafiq, to hide the grin he could feel spreading over his face, seized Kako by the elbows and carried her over to the closest wall.

Kako said: “How rude!” at him, and went back to knotting sashes. When she was finished she looped the other end around Rafiq and tied it tightly around his waist, leaving a bare ten yards of sash between them.

“It won’t be long enough,” said the prince, sauntering toward them through the foliage.

Kako shrugged and said to Rafiq: “Boost me up, will you?”

Rafiq linked his fingers to make a stirrup, and when Kako put her bare foot in it he tossed her up on the wall.

“You’ll have to come up here too,” she said, treading lightly along the bricks. “Straddle the wall: one leg here, another there.”

Rafiq did as he was told while Akish made remarks about the length of the sash-rope from below, and Kako knelt briefly before him.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” she said: “And I’ll probably disappear as soon as I hit the grass. Don’t worry about that. Don’t
untie the sash for any reason, even if you think I’m not coming back. Don’t believe everything you see. And be ready to haul me up again very quickly if I come on the run.”

Rafiq, frowning, said: “Is it really that dangerous?” but Kako had already slithered down the other side of the wall, grasping his arm to let herself down lightly. Then she was gone.

              Rafiq wasn’t sure when he became aware of a small thought in the back of his mind that said Kako could break the spell that bound him to Akish. He was straddling the wall with one leg precariously in Faery and the other scarcely less precariously in the Enchanted Keep’s domain, looking vainly to see Kako in the smooth greenery of Faery, and he could feel the bouncing tension in the line of sashes that told him she was still there. The thought came in so softly and quietly that he wasn’t even sure of the veracity of it. He
was
sure, however, that she’d taken an interest in the spell; and he was even more sure that she knew far more about magic in general, and his spell in particular, than she pretended. Could she be persuaded to break it?

He was still pondering the point when there was a strangled shout from Akish.

“Look to the sky!” the prince yelled.

There was a bruising to it, a storm riding in; and in the centre of that storm was something big and bad and...toothy.

It was a basilisk. Rafiq gave it one horrified look and hauled desperately on the line of sashes, hand over hand.

“Cast the wench adrift!” shouted Akish. Rafiq heard the rattle of sword clearing scabbard as the prince took his stance in the garden below, and grimly braced himself to endure the pain of ignoring a Command. If he could hold out long enough, Kako would be back in the garden.

“Untie her and join me in the garden, you son of a lizard!” roared Akish. “Take your dragon form and prepare to fight!”

Rafiq reeled in the sashes, panting. He was certain that there was more sash than there should be, and still Kako was invisible– still the basilisk galloped furiously toward them. Then he felt a sudden tension in the line, a definite weight on the end, and heaved for dear life.

The basilisk snarled its fury into his face, but Kako was in his arms with a wrenching thump, and they were falling backwards into the garden while the storm passed over their heads.

***

              In a certain library somewhere in Shinpo, dissatisfaction was brewing.

“Where
is
she?” said Dai impatiently. “She said she’d come tonight!”

Zen shrugged. “Maybe they passed through another Circle. Stop pulling my hair, Dai!”

“Well, I’ve got to do
something
, and you’re here.”

“Stop pulling Zen’s hair,” said Suki wearily. “What’s so dreadfully important, Dai?”

Dai shrugged, abandoning Zen’s hair for more interesting pursuits. “Kako asked us to do something for her. We did it and found out something she’ll want to know.”

“Something to do with Faery, I suppose?”

“Yes. Do you want to know about it?”

Suki said: “Not really, no. Is it dangerous?”

“Oh,
very!
” purred Dai. “Well. It is for the Fae, anyway.”

The Fourth Circle is ended.

              Rafiq fell with Kako caught up in his arms. Instead of hitting grass, they hit stone, Kako’s forehead cracking painfully against his chin as he tasted fiery blood. He cupped her head automatically as he sat up, murmuring his apologies into her hair.

Kako groaned miserably, but said: “Why are you sorry? I hit
you
.”

Rafiq laughed and spat blood. “I’ve had rougher landings. Was that a real basilisk?”

“Ah, so that’s what I appeared as!” said Kako, her face lighting up. The motion of her face evidently caused her to feel the quickly swelling lump above her right eyebrow, and she winced.

Rafiq ran his eyes over it, grinning.

“That bad, is it?” said Kako, untying the sashes that bound her to him. “Never mind, I can feel it. No, it wasn’t a real basilisk: it was Faery playing tricks with you to see if you’d judge by appearance instead of knowledge. Or maybe it wanted to see if I trusted you. Who knows? You’re bleeding.”

Rafiq shrugged and lifted her with him as he rose, absently wiping his bleeding lip against his sleeve.

“Inside again,” he said, flicking a glance up at the rough-hewn walls around them. This interior was subtly different from the usual interior of the Enchanted Keep, from the closely curving walls to the slits that cut slivers of daylight through the stonework. This was a real keep, one that didn’t have the advantage of being enchanted. Whoever lived here had to physically fight off their enemies with arrows, slings and spears.

Kako was turning in a thoughtful circle, her gaze fluttering over the sparse room. “Where’s the prince, I wonder?”

“He can’t be far away,” said Rafiq. “I’d know it if he was.”

“Perhaps not,” said Kako. She was prowling around the room, examining the furnishings. It was a small common-room with three doors leading from it and a few low, backless settees arranged around a large fireplace. “What sort of range can you get from the spell?”

“Three miles or so,” he said.

“I thought so,” Kako said, sounding pleased. “Well, the Keep must be interfering. You’re more than three miles from the prince every time you come back home with me.”

“You’re lying to me,” Rafiq said experimentally.

Kako’s eyes widened very slightly. “Excuse me?”

“You’re lying to me,” he repeated, more sure of himself.

“Oh.” Kako appeared to think about this. Then she asked: “About what?”

“What?”

“What am I lying about?”

“I don’t know,” said Rafiq, refusing to back down. “But I know you’re lying.”

“Well, that’s just rude,” said Kako, but her eyes were glowing with amusement. “If it makes you feel better, I’m not
technically
lying to you.”

“It doesn’t make me feel better.”

Kako’s shoulder slid up and down in that familiar half-shrug. “I have my moments of guilt. Oh, look! There’s the prince.”

“We’ll discuss this later,” growled Rafiq, as Prince Akish began tremulously to appear in the room.

              At first they could see right through the prince, but by and by Akish grew more solid, though he didn’t seem to be aware of his surroundings. In fact, he almost seemed...frozen. His sword was still drawn and in his hand, and he was still in the same fighting stance he’d taken when Kako tumbled back over the wall in Rafiq’s arms.

When the prince had completely solidified there was a tiny magical
snap!
and Prince Akish looked around swiftly, his eyes wild.

“What happened?”

“We finished the Fourth Circle,” said Kako. “Well, actually, Rafiq finished it. Now we’re in the Fifth, and you almost didn’t make it.”

“Whatever it was, it was intensely unpleasant,” said the prince. “Don’t do it again.”

“There’s a fine thank you!” Kako said indignantly. “Rafiq was the one who broke the Circle, after all. You were going to let me be slaughtered!”

“The Keep was testing to see if we’d trust our eyes or ourselves,” Rafiq said, at Akish’s enquiring look. “If we’re now being tested on worth instead of puzzle solving–”

Akish slid his sword back into its scabbard and said testily: “I fail to see why you’re concerned. She’s only a servant, but I’m a prince and you’re a dragon. Between us we’ve got enough nobility to pass any amount of tests of character.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” said Kako in a soothing manner. “With such superior gentility we’re sure to breeze right through these character-type Circles. I’m just lucky to be with you, aren’t I?”

The prince gave her a hard look, but just as Rafiq thought he might be on the point of seizing Kako by the throat once again, there was a knock at the door.

“Lovely!” said Kako, darting to open it. “It’s beginning!”

“My lords, my lady,” said the man at the door. He was young and thin, with a slightly harried look that Rafiq instantly associated with a sheep well aware of its function as dinner and rather worried about the whole thing.

“Welcome to Hawthorne Keep. We’re so pleased that you’ve agreed to help us. Would you like a tour of the keep?”

“What is this nonsense?” said Akish, eyeing the man unfavourably.

“I’m almost certain we’re in a Constructed environment,” said Kako, surprising Rafiq with her openness. “All of this– none of it’s real.”

Both Akish and Rafiq turned a mistrustful look on her: Akish possibly because he didn’t believe her, and Rafiq because it was highly suspicious of Kako to be so suddenly helpful. He wondered what that unusual honesty was in aid of.

Prince Akish said: “Why do you say that?”

“And what about him?” Rafiq asked, indicating the young man. He was waiting patiently for the three of them to finish talking, his face as worried as ever but somehow nothing more than slightly worried. Where was his confusion at their response– or his irritation at their rudeness for talking about him as though he wasn’t there, for that matter?

“He’s a Construct, too,” Kako said. “And just have a look at the chairs, your highness. Look really closely. This settee has an inkstain at the front right-hand corner and a loose staple in the upholstering at the side.”

“Bad workmanship and careless guests,” shrugged Akish.

“Well, yes,” admitted Kako; “But now look at the settee over by the wall.”

“Look at the settee, Rafiq.”

Rafiq, with another wondering look at the man who simply stood and waited for them, crossed the room to examine the settee. It had an inkstain in the front right-hand corner where the material pinched in, and a loose staple at the side just as Kako had described. Frowning, Rafiq checked the third settee. It was exactly the same.

“They’re all copies,” said Kako. “The Keep copied them all from one original. I’d lay odds on the fact that every settee around this Construct looks exactly like these three.”

Prince Akish’s eyes were narrow and thoughtful. “In that case, what does the vassal want?”

“I don’t know,” said Kako, shrugging. “Ask him.”

“What do you want, vassal?”

The young man, as though released from a spell of silent politeness, said: “I’m here to welcome your honours to Hawthorne Keep. Would you like to be shown directly to the War Room, or would you like to be shown the extent of the keep and a view of the opposing army?”

Prince Akish turned a steely-eyed look on Kako. “He speaks as an ordinary vassal. The Keep has evidently confused his mind, but he’s human enough.”

“You think so?” said Kako, her eyes bright with challenge. “Ask him about the opposing army.”

“Who is this opposing army?” demanded Akish.

The man, looking slightly less worried, hurried into speech: “The opposing army is the horde of the Arphadians, your honour. They covet our land with its rich pasture and plenteous waterways, and for many years now they’ve been encroaching upon our borders. Now at last they’ve launched a full attack, and outnumbered as we are, we’ve no certainty of deliverance unless your honours can–”

It was at this point that Kako grabbed him by the ears and kissed him full on the mouth, startling an exclamation from Prince Akish and a slight, fiery choke from Rafiq.

The young man neither accepted nor repulsed the embrace, and when Kako released him and stepped back, he merely continued to speak as though he’d never been interrupted.

“–help us. Hawthorne Keep will hold for a few days, but we’ve not enough food to hold out for much longer and the Arphadians are desperately cunning.”

Rafiq wasn’t entirely certain as to the reactions that human courtship was supposed to evoke, but he was rather certain that if Kako had been kissing
him
, his reaction would have been very different.

She said: “See? The Keep didn’t program him for romance. He’s only programmed for interactions that are supposed to occur during the Story.”

“Very well, I concede,” said the prince. “We’ll continue with the Story: no doubt if we rescue the people from their enemies it will send us through to the sixth Circle. The Keep is testing our courage.”

              An hour, one lengthy tour, and one short flight later, Rafiq had a very good idea of what was going on. The whole of Hawthorne Keep was one giant story construct into which the Enchanted Keep had deposited the three of them as somewhat dubious heroes, players in a game that seemed to hinge upon whether or not they could save Hawthorne Keep from the army at present encamped outside it.

Or at least, he thought, frowning, that’s what Kako had suggested and the Prince seemed to believe. Knowing Kako a little better than he had in the beginning, he was highly suspicious of her helpfulness: moreover, he was just as mistrustful of the idea that the Enchanted Keep was testing their courage. The last Circle had tested something far more nebulous: that it was testing something so obvious as courage seemed unlikely.

The prince, however, was right in his element, planning and strategizing with the inmates of Hawthorne Keep. Rafiq, after reporting back from his flight to survey the Arphadians—a curiously spiky race of humanoid creatures that surrounded the keep like so many ants around a sugar lump—sat on one of the copied couches with Kako and watched Akish giving orders.

“He’s very good at this, isn’t he?” Kako said, in a congratulatory tone of voice. “Knows exactly what he’s doing, how to use a fortress to the best advantage– I’m learning an awful lot.”

Rafiq gazed down at her for long enough to make her eyes narrow slightly with amusement.

“What? You’re not going to say I’m lying again, are you? I’m not.”

“No,” he said. “But you’re like a fledgling in the sun, warm and complacent.”

“Oh, you think I’m up to something!”

“No. I think finishing the story triumphant isn’t what will take us to the next Circle.”

Kako thought for a moment, and then said: “That depends on what you mean by triumphant.”

“Is it what Akish would think of as triumphant?”

“I doubt it,” she said, and offered him the plate of fruit she had been steadily decimating. If there was one thing Rafiq appreciated about this Circle, it was the sheer abundance, realness, and non-Faery quality of the food to be had. Even fresh fruit, which he would have scorned in his dragon form, was delightful to his human body.

“It’s fun to watch him try, though, isn’t it?”

And it
was
fun to watch him try. It was also convenient, since when Akish joined in war-talks he tended to talk through the night and forget everything else, including Rafiq.

              Rafiq left the room once the candles began to gutter and the fire was low, in search of warmth and perhaps a bed. A helpful servant was nearby to show him back to the common-room they’d arrived in that morning, and he was ushered through one of the doors around the room. It proved to be a spacious bedroom with its own fire, smaller than the one in the common-room but just as cheerful: no doubt Kako had been given one of the others that led from the common-room.

That was, Rafiq thought, if she was still in Hawthorne Keep. Kako had slipped away from the war-talks earlier than he had, and she
had
stayed with him all last night when her family was expecting her back. She was probably already in that warm, pleasant library talking secrets with Dai and Zen. He tried to ignore the flat edge of disappointment that pressed down on him at the thought and stretched out rather listlessly on the beautifully made bed. After all, what exactly had he expected? That she would come to fetch him?

He might have lain there all night feeling sorry for himself if the door to his room hadn’t snicked softly open an hour or so after he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to sleep.

Rafiq knew her footsteps, light and quick, and found himself smiling.

“I know you’re awake,” Kako said, bouncing down on his unused pillows. “Are you coming?”

“That depends,” said Rafiq, rolling to face her. “Will there be more food?”

              It was harder to get into the library that night. It was almost as though something was dragging at Rafiq’s limbs as he walked; but it wasn’t until they reached the library and Kako said: “What on
earth
have you done to my entrance?” that he knew it hadn’t just been his imagination.