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

by Gingell, W. R.

  “I have two questions,” he said, unwilling to allow her to slither out of her obligations.

  Kako said: “Pushy!” but she didn’t seem to be offended. “Go on, then.”

  “How did you stay alive when I killed you?”

  “Hm. I was actually hoping you wouldn’t ask that.”

  “Why?” asked Rafiq; and then, realising his mistake: “No, that’s not my question!”

  “You have a lot to learn about this game,” said Kako happily. “I stayed alive when you killed me because I haven’t got the kind of fire in my blood that you’re used to. When I change to dragon I keep my human form as well: my human body falls into a deep sleep while my consciousness goes into my Constructed dragon form. And I was hoping you wouldn’t ask because I was afraid the answer would inadvertently give away something else I don’t particularly want you to know.”

  “What–”

  “And before you ask, you’ve used up both your questions, and I won’t answer any questions asking exactly what I don’t want you to know.”

  Rafiq glared at her. “Why not?”

  “Because there are some things I don’t want you to know,” said Kako, perfectly logically. “Also, I make the rules for this game, so I’m allowed to change them when I want to.”

  “Does that mean I can refuse to answer questions too?”

  “Of course,” she said. “When we’ve both refused to answer three questions each, the game is over. My turn, I think!”

  The game was a pleasant way to spend the night. Rafiq was so caught up in trying to ask the right questions and in studying Kako to guess if she was lying to him, that he didn’t notice the sun was coming up until Prince Akish appeared, pulling uncomfortably at his chainmail.

  “Is the lizard well again?” he said briefly.

  “I think so,” Kako said. “He stopped fidgeting with the handkerchiefs an hour or so ago, and he’s been leaning back against the tree for the better part of half an hour. It should be safe to untie him now.”

  “Good,” said Akish. “I’ve solved this Circle while you were twittering away together. Untie him.”

  Kako said agreeably: “How nice!” and untied Rafiq, who hadn’t realised that she’d been watching him– or that he hadn’t had the desire to climb over the wall in quite some time now.

  “What’s the solution?” he asked Akish, while Kako’s fingers tickled around his wrists.

  “The water is fae water,” said Akish, his eyes gleaming. “And when I went around the garden this morning I noticed that there were some fae plants here as well. In fact, they’re all fae plants: every morsel of food or sustenance to be had in this accursed place is fae and inedible to us.”

  “I’m sure they are if you say so,” said Kako amiably. She’d gone on to the knots of sash at Rafiq’s chest. His struggling must have made them distinctly hard to untie, because it took her some time, tugging at the knots and wriggling the free ends, to loosen them.

  “And what, I asked myself,” continued Akish impressively; “Is the use of myriad sources of food, if we cannot eat of them?”

  “Did you answer yourself?”

  Rafiq flicked a look up at Kako as she untied the last of his knots, and found that her eyes were laughing down at him.

  Akish, unperturbed, said: “It was evident. The plants and fruits must have another use.”

  “And do they?”

  “Each of them is an ingredient in a Door-opening spell between worlds. We can open a Door from here in Faery to the human world with the ingredients found here.”

  “Is that so?” murmured Kako. “Are you sure?”

  For the first time, Prince Akish looked slightly uncomfortable. “All except for one: there isn’t a petty-pink to be had in the garden.”

  “Never mind,” Kako said soothingly. “It was a clever thought!”

  “I say there aren’t any in the garden because they’re outside the garden!” said Prince Akish exasperatedly. “I can see them when I look over the wall.”

  “Well, it may as well be in one of the other Circles,” said Kako. “It’s still Faery out there, and if you think we’ll be able to get back in after being out there, I’ve got a horrible surprise for you.”

  “Perhaps not if we all went together,” said the prince. “But if only one of us went? If one of us was harnessed to the others in the garden?”

  Rafiq thought Kako sighed slightly as she untied the last of the knots that bound him to the tree. “That would probably work.”

  Akish, looking rather more satisfied that Rafiq liked to see him, nodded. “Very well. Rafiq–!”

  “Don’t bother to tell Rafiq,” interrupted Kako. “He’s part of your little rescue attempt and the Enchanted Keep will probably choose to consider he’s taken a Door Out if he leaves the garden. I’m not part of the group, so if you tie the sashes around my waist and drop me over it should be safe enough.”

  There it was again, thought Rafiq. That unwillingness for either himself or Akish to climb over the wall and into Faery. Why was Kako so set against either of them venturing into Faery? He wished he’d thought to ask her that last night.

  “The sashes aren’t long enough,” said Akish. “The petty-pinks are at least fifteen yards from the wall.”

  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.

  The Fifth Circle

  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 tal
king 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–”