Date Knight

by Bridget Essex

  If Charaxus is an icy inferno, Calla is the calm at the center of the storm. Queen Calla regally glides over to come stand beside us, and all eyes move from Charaxus and focus on the queen, her noble bearing obvious, awe-inspiring. She steps with grace and dignity, and her chin is raised high, her eyes flashing brightly. And dangerously.

  Since I've met Calla, I've come to sympathize with her. I really like her, and I think we would make good friends, if I get to have that chance. Never, in the moments since our meeting, have I seen her act with anything but gentility, calmness and kindness.

  But, in this moment, there is a rampant, blazing strength that billows around her like a shimmering cloud of lightning, dazzling and bright...and just as deadly as Charaxus.

  The queen doesn't look at us as she draws herself up to her full height. She's gazing at Charaxus with a frown that makes the corners of her mouth downturn severely.

  She leans forward, her arms loose and dangling at her sides as the storm of energy seems to swirl around her. She bends toward Charaxus.

  “Charaxus, stop,” she commands, and—like Charaxus' voice—Calla's makes the ground beneath us seem to shift and rumble, just a little, the floor quaking with the raw power of her words. I wonder if she and Charaxus are using magic to do this, and I'm worried that, if they'd use magic so casually, what else might they use it for in this tense situation?

  When Charaxus' eyes alight on Calla, a great deal of the fire in them fades—all at once. The sword's point lowers as if it's been forcibly pushed down, and then Charaxus' head is bowing forward, her hair falling on either side of her face as she lowers her entire body. “Your Majesty,” she murmurs, and she's kneeling deeply, dropping to one knee in a fluid, graceful movement that makes her cape—I didn't realize she was wearing a black cape over her armor until this moment—flare out around her; she sinks to the ground. “Your Majesty,” she repeats from where she kneels, her eyes flashing again, her jaw clenched as she places a gloved hand over her heart. “Have you been kidnapped?” Charaxus asks, her eyes roving over the queen as if to search for any sign of damage or hurt.

  Calla's gaze tires as she looks at Charaxus, regarding her wearily. “No,” she says simply, shaking her head as she spreads her hands. “I came here of my own free will. Rise, please, Charaxus.”

  Charaxus' eyes flash again, her fist, made over her heart and kept there in honor of the queen, tightens as Charaxus turns her gaze from Calla to Virago...as if it was Virago that put her up to this, I realize. She rises instantly, flowing upward, her eyes narrowing further.

  “Magel thought it best, since the attack happened so recently,” says Calla firmly, and Charaxus looks back at the queen, thunderstruck. She obviously thought this was all Virago's fault.

  Why would she think that?

  I remember Virago telling me that she and Charaxus were schoolmates as they trained to become knights, and that they “didn't get along,” whatever that means. But this is much more than not getting along.

  This is two very powerful knights at odds.

  And it can't possibly be good.

  “We came in search of Virago,” Calla says formally, inclining her head in Virago's direction while still holding Charaxus' gaze, “and we have found her. And she will kindly return with us to keep me safe during the Hero's Tournament.”

  Charaxus' eyes narrow at that, and her hands fall to her sides. The sword is lying on its side on the ground where she set it when she knelt in genuflection to the queen, but she keeps it there for a long moment as Virago and Charaxus stare at each other with sharp eyes.

  While said knightly staring contest takes place, I am highly aware that one of the bartenders has brought the cordless bar phone to her ear and is calling the cops, whispering into the phone as quietly as she can. I can't blame her: an extra-tall, super-imposing lady just walked into her establishment wearing spiky black armor and carrying a pointy sword. I would be calling the cops, too, if I didn't know we weren't in danger.

  I mean, I don't think we're in danger. I hope we're not in danger. But, at that moment, Charaxus turns to Virago again. She bows down, picks up the sword in a gloved hand, and she raises the sword level with her heart.

  She's pointing the tip of the blade at Virago, the sharp thing flashing from the lights overhead.

  “Your Majesty knows that you are not in the best state of mind to make emotional decisions,” says Charaxus, her voice low. “That you would risk your life to pass through the portal, to come all this way to another world to find a knight hardly worth finding...this leads me to believe that you are not thinking clearly.”

  Virago snarls at that, her jaw clenched, her teeth bared, her hands curled into tight fists at her sides. I can feel her entire body tensing beside me, but Virago surprisingly says nothing.

  Instead, Calla draws herself up to her full height again, her shoulders back, her chin up, her hands in fists at her sides, too. And though she's wearing my formal gown—and a purple one, no less, complete with frills and lace—in that moment, I've never seen her look more queenly. She lifts her chin, eyes flashing with a raw, green fire that's as potent as any blaze.

  There is pure power in her bearing as she stares at Charaxus.

  “You will address me more formally, Charaxus, and you will not question my judgment,” she says, voice steady, the floorboards beneath our feet shaking just a little, as if a tremor is passing through the earth. Her words are so soft, I almost can't hear them, but the gravity of them is a strength I can feel in my bones. “You will have respect for the decisions I make,” Queen Calla growls.

  For a long moment, Charaxus' blade does not waver; she holds it, strong and still, aimed at Virago's heart. But then the point of the blade falls, resting against the floor as Charaxus takes a deep breath, as her noble face pales, her lips downturning into a pained frown.

  And then, surprisingly, Charaxus kneels again, folding elegantly forward and pressing one knee to the floor as she places her hand, curled into a fist again, over her heart. She sets the sword on the ground beside her.

  “Please forgive me, Your Majesty. I was concerned for your safety,” she murmurs. This time, the floor doesn't quake beneath us as she speaks the words. There is pain in her tone, but she keeps her voice ceremonial as she gazes up at the queen.

  There's something in that gaze, something I can't quite place, as Charaxus stares at Queen Calla—but then, whatever it is vanishes as the rest of the bar seems to wake up from its trance, women coughing and murmuring amongst themselves as the singer glances at the bartender and shrugs, tapping the mic.

  “Hey, guys,” she says into the microphone, squinting against the lights trained on her. “Um...everyone remain calm, okay?”

  Kell hops down off the bar in a surprisingly fluid motion for someone so very, very drunk. She turns and grabs the woman she was dancing with around the waist gently and helps the woman down off the bar, too, lifting her easily and setting her on the floor as if she's a large doll. The woman smiles up at Kell, but Kell isn't even looking at her. Instead, Kell is staring and glaring at Charaxus, anger quite evident on her features as her mouth downturns into a particularly snarly frown.

  “Party's over,” Kell mutters to the woman she was dancing with, and then she turns away from her, striding over to us, her hands on her hips as she sneers at Charaxus, who remains down on one knee in front of Queen Calla.

  “Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence. The queen's pet,” Kell mutters to Charaxus, obviously to Charaxus, and Charaxus' eyes glitter dangerously as the two women stare at one another. But then Kell lifts her chin and moves in front of us almost casually. I think she's aiming to go stand beside Alinor, but she kicks Charaxus' sword, lying on the floor beside her, away from the knight.

  It was just a little kick with the toe of Kell's boot, a kick that made the blade spin around. It was made to look accidental, but I'm pretty sure I know enough about Kell at this point to realize that this was one-hundred percent intentional
.

  And Charaxus seems to know this, too, because she is on her feet in a heartbeat, sword somehow already in her hand, pointing the blade at Kell's heart as her eyes flash with a cool fire.

  Charaxus is crouched in a fighting stance, and Kell is almost too drunk to stand, but she somehow manages to turn on her heel. Kell's obviously laughing at Charaxus as she shakes her head, daring Charaxus with her mocking gaze to try something. But then Kell is reaching over her back for her own sword...

  But Kell is wearing clothes she borrowed from Virago. The sword that she came through the portal with is back at home, neatly stacked on my couch alongside Magel, Alinor and, yes, even Virago's swords.

  So Kell is weaponless.

  The woman at the bar hangs up the phone and holds onto the receiver nervously. If she really was calling the cops, then they are on their way here right this minute.

  And it's going to be awfully difficult to explain to the police who exactly these women are, why they have no ID or passports, or, really, anything that marks them as citizens of Earth...

  Because they aren't.

  In that moment, my already overactive imagination takes over, and I'm starting to imagine all of the ways that this could go horribly, horribly wrong. Like, for instance, the knights and queen (and, hey, maybe me) being detained in jail or sent to the FBI for questioning. Or what if they press charges and something terrible happens and Virago ends up in prison on our world because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time without any ID?

  I have a very overactive imagination, but the terrible thing is that any of those scenarios are possible in this dangerous situation we're all participating in.

  “Oh, my God, we need to go,” I whisper to Virago, gripping her arm as I turn to look up at her. “Right now, baby,” I mutter, gripping her even tighter, trying to put a tremendous urgency in my touch. Virago glances down at me in surprise, and I whisper into her ear, “I think the woman at the bar called the cops. We need to get the hell out of Dodge.”

  Virago nods and doesn't waste another moment. “Your Majesty,” says Virago immediately, smoothly, stepping forward. Her voice lowers as she inclines her head toward the queen. “We need to go.”

  Calla, too, seems to understand the urgency of the situation, because she casts a single glance around the room, at all the women staring at us, at the band no longer playing, and realizes the danger this has put us in.

  “Kell. Charaxus,” she says immediately, pointing out a single finger. “End this immediately. We are done here.”

  The blade of Charaxus' sword drops, but she and Kell are still glaring daggers at one another as Virago crosses the room quickly, tapping Magel on the shoulder and helping Alinor—who's currently having a little bit of difficulty standing upright—back to the group.

  “There's a back door,” I tell Virago, inclining my head toward the hallway that leads to the kitchen, the restrooms...and eventually a way out to the alleyway between Queenie's and another bar, Murphy's. The alleyway perpetually smells like pee and rotten lobster, but it'll probably be the easiest way for everyone to leave this bar quickly.

  “This way,” says Virago, then, her voice quiet enough for all the knights to hear her, but low enough that the rest of the women in the bar do not. Blessedly, the bartender is signaling to the lead singer of the band to start up again, and she does, crooning into the microphone as the rest of her band members fall into sync haphazardly behind her, the drummer last as she drops her drumsticks and picks them up again, fishing for a new, unbroken one under her seat.

  The knights and the queen fall into single file behind me and move swiftly through the bar as the music starts to fill the space. Soon we're in the bar's hallway, and I'm leading the way, my heart pounding loudly in my throat, shoving blood through my veins in a much-too-quick manner that's making me feel a little lightheaded.

  We all tumble out into the alleyway as Charaxus sheaths her sword over her head, staring with a displeased grimace at Virago. I inhale a breath of fresh air (that smells a little like pee and rotten lobsters, but then beggars can't be choosers).

  “We both know that the queen would never have risked coming to another world if it was not for you,” murmurs Charaxus, and she comes close enough to Virago that they're facing off, the air crackling.

  “I said, enough,” says Calla, and then she's stepping between them, a hand at both of their chests, pushing them away from one another with surprisingly strong arms. The knights oblige their queen, but it's obvious, painfully obvious, that there is no love lost between Virago and Charaxus.

  “If you say again that I came for any other reason than my own free will, there will be consequences, Charaxus,” says Calla, lifting a finger as if daring Charaxus to argue with her. The knight's lips close into a thin, tight line, and again, she surprisingly listens to the smaller, daintier woman, bowing to her wishes as Calla turns, then, bright green eyes just as sharp as she looks at Virago.

  “Your rivalry is starting to impede upon your work, Virago,” she says, her voice low. “Do not allow it to continue.”

  I blink, but—like Charaxus—Virago acquiesces to the queen's wishes and softens her gaze.

  “We must leave here right now, yes, Holly?” asks Calla, turning to me with wide eyes.

  I can already hear police sirens, faint but getting closer out on the street, and I stiffen, watching the red lights reflect off of the brick walls that tower overhead. We're going to be found soon—very soon.

  “Um...that's not good,” I mutter, glancing behind me at the equally solid brick wall. The alleyway is a dead end full of Dumpsters, no way out other than the mouth of the alleyway and entering the club we just exited—the club that will, at any moment now, be swarming with cops.

  We're trapped.

  Charaxus opens a small leather pouch that's tied to her thick black belt. She reaches in with gloved fingers, and then she's holding a tiny shard of glass. She sighs and lifts her hand. “Milady,” she says quietly to Queen Calla.

  Calla gasps, crossing the space between them to stand close to Charaxus, looking down at the wickedly glinting, sharp bit of glass in the knight's hand. “Where did you get this?” she whispers, gazing at the black-armored knight with wide eyes. “How did you get this?” she asks, lowering her voice.

  Charaxus shrugs smoothly, but for half a heartbeat, a small smile flits across her naturally downturned mouth. “I have no time to explain,” she tells the queen softly, her tone kind, but then she glances at the rest of the knights around her, and her expression hardens. “Be ready,” she murmurs to them.

  “Wait, wait... Be ready for what?” I ask, stepping forward.

  Charaxus gazes down at me bemusedly, as if I'm beneath her notice, but then she holds up the little shard of glass. “We will use this to open a portal between worlds and enter Agrotera once more,” she says simply.

  Virago glances at me with alarm. “Wait, we can't do that!” I tell Charaxus, my mouth suddenly dry. Charaxus now stares at me as if I'm a cockroach that has invaded her space.

  “And, pray tell, why not?” she asks calmly. “Are we not being pursued?” She gestures to the red lights. “Is it not best that we retreat, with haste?”

  “Yes, and yes. But we can't go to Agrotera right now. The knights... They don't have their swords,” I tell her quickly.

  And, more importantly, I don't have my dog.

  I have had no chance to ask Carly or Aidan to watch Shelley for me, and I don't know how long I'm going to be gone in Agrotera. I can't leave my beloved pet in my house without food or water.

  I might have to fight to the death for this, though, because Charaxus is about to open her mouth, her frown turning into an impatient smile. She's about to tell me tough luck about those swords—but Calla reaches up and gently touches Charaxus' arm.

  “Charaxus,” she murmurs softly. “Can you focus the portal to also be anyplace in this world?”

  Charaxus sighs, lowering her gaze, but she nods. “Yes, milady
,” she says, almost tiredly.

  “If you have the shard, it costs you nothing to return to Lady Holly's home and let her...gather what she needs to gather.”

  When Calla glances over Charaxus' shoulder at me, I can see the small smile flit over her face.

  Does she know that I want to bring Shelley? Does she know the panic that was about to fill my heart when I realized we might be leaving Shelley alone? Something passed between us when she spoke to Charaxus.

  I think Calla and I are going to be good friends.

  “Yes, milady,” says Charaxus, and then she glances at me with narrowed eyes. “If you would but take my hand,” she whispers, proffering her gloved hand to me.

  Okay, a little over a month ago, if a super-sexy lady knight had asked to hold my hand, I'm not going to lie: I would have been all over that. But there's something about Charaxus, something that rubs me the wrong way...

  I don't know; maybe it has something to do with the death glare she's currently aiming at my girlfriend.

  But, “Sure,” I mutter, and I take Charaxus' hand.

  Her grip is strong, but it's not painful (for some reason, I thought she was going to break my fingers or something), and then Charaxus is turning the shard of glass so that it catches the red, spinning lights from the police cars.

  A guy on a megaphone—I'm assuming he's a policeman—is yelling back into the alleyway, “Put your weapons on the ground!”

  “Oh, crap,” I mutter, swallowing.

  Absolutely nothing seems to happen for a long, terrifying moment—the kind of moment that takes an eternity to pass (and ages you about a hundred years in the process)—as Charaxus holds up that shard of glass and narrows her eyes, concentrating on turning the shard just so. It reflects a bit of light from the police cars onto the brick wall opposite us, a bit of light in the same shape as the shard...

  “Cooperate,” says the guy, shouting over the megaphone.

  My heart is in my throat as I stare at the light on wall. I hope, hope, hope that Charaxus knows what she's doing...

  One second, the tiny shard of light is just a reflection. And the next instant, it's a a dazzling portal the size of two wide doors. It's a bright, pulsing light, just like the portal that my brother opened for Virago.