Warrior Queen (Skeleton Key) (3 page)

B
ryce followed
the priest through winding corridors, the guard at his back. When people saw him they stepped back. Did they really think he was one of those Southerners? Were the Southerners that dangerous? He was aware that he hadn’t been outside yet. They were still in what he guessed was the palace.

How big was this place?

He knew he had no chance of finding a way out on his own. He had to make these people believe that he wasn’t the enemy, but he had no idea how to do that because he didn’t know anything about them or their enemy.

Every time he blinked he saw the maps of the strange world. Maybe their maps were wrong…or showing a really small area and that was why he didn’t recognize the shapes of the landmasses.

But when he opened his eyes he saw the priest’s pointed ears, and when he lowered his gaze he saw the skirt with the split sides. Men and women wore exactly the same. The close fitting top and the skirt.

Bryce was sweating in yesterday’s suit and shirt. His tie was probably at the bar. Maybe. He had no idea. His head was pounding and he could barely swallow his mouth was so dry.

The priest pushed open a door and they went down a few stairs. Windows high up let in the light. There were unlit lamps on the walls. In from the wall there was a small fire on one side. A glass bowl of water on another. Colored rocks on a third, and on the last side an arrow with feathers hanging from it. Four sides. Four elements.

This was their sacred space.

Him being here didn’t feel good.

Was he going to be sacrificed? He worked at the knots in the rope around his hands. The rope chaffed his skin, yet fear took away the pain. There was no way he was going to stand around and let them slit his throat. However, the only way he could get home was with the key, and the priest had that.

He obviously wasn’t dead. This was like no afterlife he’d ever heard of. That meant that somehow he’d stepped through a door to somewhere else. And just like on TV, they all spoke English…unless they didn’t and he was only hearing it as English. His brain couldn’t handle that possibility. The idea that he was on another world, or in a different dimension or something was hard enough to hold onto.

The priest walked around the edge of the sacred space and led him into a smaller room. There was a low table in the middle set with refreshments. Including a jug of water. It took every ounce of will power not to race over and guzzle directly from the ceramic spout. He didn’t have the strength to take his eyes off the jug, or refrain from licking his lips.

“Sit. Talk.” The priest gestured to one side of the table.

The guard remained by the door, while the priest sat.

The idea of drinking was too tempting, so Bryce sat. “Can I have a drink?”

The priest poured him a cup. Bryce drank it and then held the cup out for more. He drank the second cup while the priest smiled in amusement.

“You have the desert mouth from too much alcohol.” The priest fingered the glass key.

“Yes. And the headache to match.” He didn’t want to be sitting here. He wanted to be waking up in his own bed from a truly bizarre dream. He worked at the rope around his wrists. The skin raw and painful in places, and he knew that he wasn’t going to wake up from this. He was awake.

“That will not kill you.”

It just felt that way with every heartbeat that thumped the inside of his skull.

“Tell me about the key.” While the priest’s voice was friendly, there was no warmth in his eyes. Bryce didn’t like being on the wrong side of the table during questioning.

“I told you. I found it. I didn’t mean to use it.” But he remembered the way it had ended up in his hand as though it had wanted to be used. No, he’d been drunk and clumsy, that was all. “I don’t know anything about it.” He wished he’d left it in the grass for the lawnmower to destroy.

“You will be in trouble when they find it missing?”

Bryce shook his head. “I don’t think anyone would believe me if I told them.”

Who would he tell? The people he’d worked with? The cops he’d called friends, but really if it hadn’t been for the uniform they wouldn’t have spent any time together. His ex, his parents? The people with fake names that he played against online? Actually they might think this was cool. They’d want to know what quest he was on and if he’d developed and special powers.

That would be no to both. There was no quest and no magic powers.

“Your master, your queen?” the priest pressed.

Bryce laughed. “I have no master. And the Queen is a figurehead who lives in another country.”

The priest regarded him for a moment. Then he got up and left the room. Bryce sipped his water. They believed the key had magic. Hell, maybe it did, but he needed the key to get home.

Yeah, because he had so much waiting for him.

He’d wanted a new adventure, and now that he was living it he wanted to run away. If this was a dream or a near death hallucination—maybe he’d been hit by a car—or even if this was reality, and he still couldn’t quite believe that was the case, he should make the most of it.

Treat it like a game.

There would be clues and tasks and eventually he’d find his way out.

That his brain understood.

He was willing to bet that if he died here then the game would finally be over. There would be no second chance. Best not die then. He needed to find out everything he could about where he was and work out what he needed to do to survive. Even if this was all in his head, he was here for a reason. Maybe there was a quest that he needed to complete before he could go home. He knew he was trying to apply logic and reason to something that made no sense, but it made him feel better.

The priest returned with a roll of cloth and a stick of charcoal…and the queen, Keleti, was right behind him.

The cloth was laid on the table.

“I would like to see your world.” Keleti knelt opposite him and held his gaze.

Now he noticed more of the differences. It wasn’t just the points on the ears. Their eyes were wider, rounder. Her cheek bones were more angled. She had two cuts on one cheek and a circle on the other. Ritual scars. He had no idea what they meant.

The priest had none. None that Bryce had noticed anyway.

He broke the hypnotic hold of her stare and picked up the charcoal. It wasn’t easy to draw on the cloth, and he was pretty sure that his high school geography teacher would not be impressed with his rendition of the continents.

“Australia.” He pointed to the largest and best drawn shape. “North and South America, Africa, Asia, Europe.” He was sure that England wasn’t the right shape and as he pointed out the continents he realized that he’d forgotten Antarctica, not that these people were going to know that. He glanced up at the Queen.

She looked as blank as he had when looking at their maps. “Australia plans to invade us too?”

He shook his head. “No. I picked up the key. It was in my garden.” Why had he picked it up? If he’d left it there, he could be enjoying his hangover in front of the TV. Or looking for new jobs.

He looked at the two people opposite him.

He was on the ultimate holiday, or out of his mind, either way he should start enjoying it. If they kept him tied up, he wasn’t going to be enjoying much.

“This is all a mistake. I’m not part of your war. I don’t even know who you’re fighting. I’m just lost and want to go home.” Except he wasn’t sure he did, not yet anyway. He was intrigued about what was going on and where he was.

“Who cut your ears?” Keleti pressed her lips together and frowned.

“No one. Where I am from everyone has ears like mine.” It was
their
ears that were odd. However, he seemed to be the only one without pointed ears so to them he was the freak.

“Rat ears are normal?” There was a golden glint in her eyes for just a moment. A trick of the light?

“Yes.” Not that he liked being called rat-ears. “See.” He turned and tugged his ear so she could have a better look.

Keleti reached out and ran her fingers over his ear. The priest then did the same on the other side. That was weird. He’d never had so much attention paid to his ears.

A glance passed between the Queen and the priest.

“Show me how the key works,” she said. Her voice had that edge that left no doubt that she expected to be obeyed, and yet her clothing didn’t look that grand. She didn’t wear a crown or jewels.

Bryce glanced up at her. “I’ll need a lock.”

A
s far as
Keleti was concerned, if the man with rat ears opened up a magic doorway and vanished that would be fine, but he wasn’t taking the key with him. That was far too dangerous. If the enemy got hold of it and got in, the city would fall.

She fingered the cool glass key, half tempted to try it herself to see where she’d end up, but her people needed her here, so she handed the key to the man. He wiped his hands rather awkwardly given he was still tied up, and didn’t look at all certain.

“What’s on the other side of the door?” He glanced at her, still not sure if he should look her in the eye or not.

It was a very strange mannerism, and while she would have said it was usually only affected by liars, with him she wasn’t so sure. Maybe his people thought looking someone in the eye was rude. Maybe a person of his standing shouldn’t lift their gaze. She wanted to know why. Didn’t everyone deserve the respect of being acknowledged?

“It doesn’t matter. All that matters is if this key will open the lock and prove you are telling the truth.” If it didn’t, she was going to have to lock him up and deal with him later.

“Don’t you think I tried that when I got here? I’m still here.”

She smiled. She had no idea. It was hard to read him because he didn’t follow any of the usual behaviors. Not even those that she knew belonged to the Southerners.

He put the key in the lock. The priest was ready to grab the key back, and possibly the man too.

Keleti watched. Her eyes focusing intently on the lock, she listened for the click as the key turned. The key worked even though it appeared fragile. The door opened.

There was nothing but the medicinal stores.

The man bit back a curse. His shoulders were tight. “I don’t know how to get home.”

“You don’t know where home is,” said the priest. For a moment Keleti was sure that he wasn’t talking about the strange map. The priest went into the now opened room and handed the man two leaves. “For your headache.”

The man took them but didn’t see to know what to do with them.

“You chew them.” What kind of place did he come from when they couldn’t cure a simple headache?

She made him sit with the guard. He didn’t seem like he was going to run, and he didn’t appear to have anywhere to run to, but she didn’t trust him either.

She walked with the priest to the doorway so she could see the elements. Today the balance didn’t calm her. Her gaze drifted to the woman in the center, laying down praying. Eyes closed palms up. She would love to find that kind of peace. “What do you think of this key?”

“It has magic. That I don’t doubt. He is either a very skilled mage or he did steal it and got here by luck.”

Keleti drew in a breath. “Have you ever heard of any of the places he speaks? Is there anything in the myths about rat-eared travellers?”

“Myths are not my specialty, Heavenly, but I will consult. What are you going to do with him?” His gaze flicked to the man who was tasting the leaves as though they might be poisoned. “He isn’t unwell, merely sick from too much alcohol.”

“No one starts a mission drunk.” Which meant it was either an act or he was telling the truth. “Pack some bread and water and we’ll lock him up for a night and see if he feels more like talking in the morning.”

The priest smiled and walked away.

“To the cliff door.” Keleti led the way not bothering to check to see if the guard and the man were following.

The weather was mild and the doors were open. There was a railing so people didn’t accidentally fall into the ocean far below. She breathed in the salty air. The sun was dropping and turning the ocean gold.

She needed to scout soon. They needed to know how much ground the army was covering as they drew closer and she needed to know if her cousin had managed to raise one of their own. Nadri must be with the army, that was why she hadn’t returned. Keleti couldn’t ignore the dropping of her stomach whenever she thought of her cousin. She was sure something had gone wrong. She’d scout tonight and hopefully see a friendly army.

In a few quick moves she stripped off her clothing and threw herself over the railing and into the air. She heard the man swearing then his voice was lost in the rush of air and crashing of waves against the white cliff.

“
F
ucking hell
.” Bryce ran forward to the railing. What had just happened? One moment she was dressed, the next gloriously naked, then she’d jumped and no one seemed to care. He peered over the edge. The base of the cliffs was churning ocean and the sheer drop made him dizzy. He couldn’t see her at all.

A huge golden brown hawk with a flash of white on the neck flew straight up at him. He stumbled back away from the huge bird of prey as it landed at the railing. A railing that he now noticed was covered in scratches, obviously from giant bird talons.

The bird watched him. Its head tilted to the side and its eyes wide and golden and almost familiar.

Were they going to throw him over? Were they going to feed him to the bird? He’d seen the way hawks pulled apart their prey and he had no desire to die that way. He’d rather jump.

“I can’t fly.” He didn’t want to die either, but at least the fall would be instant.

The guard laughed. “Of course you can’t. Only the Heavenly can.”

Right.
No. Not right at all. That was the Queen. She’d turned into a bird. A dangerous looking bird with a beak that looked as though it could remove the heart from his chest with a single peck. He stared at the hawk unable to look away. How had she done that?

If this was a dream, he’d really like to get a hold of it or wake up, because it was getting stranger by the second. However the wind was cold on his skin, the rope on his wrist was chafing because he’d kept working it—with no success—and he could taste the salt on the air.

This was all very, very real.

The priest nudged him forward.

“I’m not a spy. You can’t throw me over the edge.” Or feed me to the hawk or whatever other nasty things they had planned.

“You aren’t going to die. You are going to sit in a cell. Lift your hands up.” The priest tried to raise Bryce’s arms, but he resisted. The hawk was going to pick him up by the rope.

“I’ve been working the knots. They won’t take my weight.” He did not trust the bird not to dump him into the ocean, and who know what was in there waiting to eat him, and that was assuming he survived the fall.

The priest tightened the knots, and attached a small bag. “I’d have been disappointed if you hadn’t tried. Tell me, would you have gone through the door to your own world if the key had worked?”

Bryce opened his mouth, but he couldn’t readily say yes. He should be able to. He wanted to go home. He knew home. At home he wouldn’t be tied up and about to be taken somewhere by a shape shifting Queen. At home he was unemployed and trying to work out what to do next with his life.

He hadn’t been disappointed when nothing had happened when he’d unlocked the door, because he knew that nothing would. Maybe the magic was used up or maybe he was here for a reason. Whatever. For the moment he was here and he needed to ride this out. He’d wanted a new adventure and here it was. Stranger and wilder than he could have ever dreamed.

He stepped closer to the bird, her brown feathers caught the sinking sun and gleamed gold like her eyes. Then he lifted his hands. He didn’t have time to draw a breath and get ready for what was going to happen.

As the great hawk launched into the air her talons caught the rope and jolted him up. He made the mistake of looking down to ensure his feet cleared the railing, but the world fell away from him with a sickening rush. He couldn’t breathe. While he’d never been afraid of heights…this was…he didn’t finish the thought at the hawk swept down. He was sure that if he’d had the breath he’d have screamed.

The descent was rapid. The wind was harsh on his face. He opened his eyes as the hawk leveled out. Before him was the stark white cliff face. It was dotted with black shadows. He stared as they approached much too fast. Caves. The shadows were caves.

Oh shit.

They were the cells. He glanced up at the buildings perched on the edge of the cliff. Then down to a narrow strip of beach at the base. The sand was white, but there were tide marks along the cliff face. To his right the cliff jutted out into the water, and the surf crashed into the rocks. If he managed to free climb down and he mistimed it, he would drown. He tried to see where the beach went to his left but they flew into a cave.

Or rather he was tossed into the cave and the hawk flew up and away.

Bryce rolled a couple of times then lay on his back sucking in air. He couldn’t have been flying for more than a minute. Probably more like thirty seconds. But his eyes were stinging and his arms were aching.

And he was elated he wasn’t dead.

Adrenaline was hitting hard as he sat up. No, he wasn’t dead, but he was now in a cave, in a cliff and the only way he could get out was if Keleti came back as a hawk.

He looked at the small bag attached to his hands.

This wasn’t at all awkward. He stood, and went looking for something to cut through the rope. However, if he did that, how would the hawk carry him out?

Maybe he wasn’t ever getting out.