The Red Knight (37 page)

As he floated Between he sifted through the writhing mass of patterns in the Arth, a hungry spectre lurking on the edge of life.
There.
The red cord led to a particular maggot squirming amid its kin. He pushed through the veil between the mortal world and Between, and slipped into the Arth like a shadow. He held his breath, waiting for the alarm to wail, and battle to be joined, but the Ward did not wake to his presence; his spells had succeeded in hiding him.

Other than his quarry, there were only a handful of noteworthy patterns within the Arth. One in particular caught his attention.

“A dirt mage, how delightful,”
he hissed. He should take the Queen and go, but it had been such a long time since he’d matched power with a mortal mage, so long since he’d felt the cold rush of blood. The Obsidian Prince sent a vicious barb of energy at the dabbler; an introduction delivered in the sharpest terms. The barb struck. The mage’s pattern writhed in agony and vanished. He laughed. Whoever they were, they immediately cloaked their essence rather than accept his challenge.
It isn’t like the old days,
he concluded with regret.

The weight of ages fell on him like a tombstone. The Clan mages and his misguided kin had been fools to choose death over immortality. Their knowledge and skills had been lost and all that remained of the Great Art was illusion. They would surely weep to see their magic debased by the likes of this worm, too cowardly to muster even a token defence, let alone an attack. If he hadn’t a task to perform he would have taken great pleasure peeling this pathetic excuse for a mage to its core.

Just then, a tiny throb of magic pulsed into the Arth. He laughed a curse as the Ward woke and lashed him with its terrible scream.

Talin thought he’d have to let Oli win the game of Stones he’d been badgered into playing. He was therefore surprised to find he had to play his best game just to stay on the bloody board.

“Do you think we’ll be home for Midwinter?” Olin asked as he slid another stone into an attacking position.

“Er…yes, of course—at least you will be. I’ll be at Trelanlith.” Talin was struggling to concentrate on the game and talk at the same time; he’d no idea his brother was this good.

“Ah, yes. Juliana told me you’d commissioned a goldsmith to make a special gift for someone. I wonder; is it a Midwinter gift? Or a promise of betrothal?”

“Juliana should concentrate her energies on being a good lady-in-waiting instead of a gossip. Does anything happen in the Arth that your friend doesn’t know about?”

Olin laughed, his hand hovered over a stone. Too late, Talin spotted the danger, but there was nothing he could do about it now. After a moment’s indecision, Olin changed his mind and moved another stone.

“I don’t know what has happened to Juliana,” said Olin. “The soldiers took her away, she was crying. I suppose they killed her.”

Talin was shocked. It wasn’t like his brother to be so cold, so matter of fact about what might have happened to his friend. “You mustn’t think that, Oli. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“It’s alright Tal; if she’s dead, she’ll go to Sestrian and I’ll see her again when I die. It’s your move, by the way.”

It was clear that his brother had been more affected by what had happened than anyone had realised.

“I yield, little brother. That was a bold attack, well done.”

Olin laughed. “Thank you for letting me win, but you made it a little too easy. You’re going to have to put up a bit more of a fight to fool me these days.”

Talin opened his mouth to bluff a lie when the Ward began to scream. Startled, Olin leapt up. The board and game pieces went flying. The door to their mother’s room burst open. Talin was up in an instant, sword in hand. He barged past the Queen’s maid who’d opened the door and into the adjoining room. His mother was sitting up in bed; she looked alarmed, but unhurt.

“Lock the door and do not open it until I tell you,” Talin ordered the maid before rushing back into the other room.

“Oli, get that!” he shouted, pointing to an old axe hanging on the wall. Olin was shaking, but did as he was told.

“Stay in here and hit anything that comes through that door that isn’t me.”

Olin nodded vigorously. Talin threw open the door to the hallway. Two knights were standing outside, back-to-back. The tallest of the pair raised his visor.

“You should stay within, Highness,” he suggested firmly.

Talin was about to protest when the other knight shouted a warning to her comrade and pointed down the hall. He didn’t see anything unusual at first, but then he noticed the air was shimmering like heat haze, roughly twenty feet away. To the amazement of all three, a shadowy figure appeared through the shifting wall of air.

The figure was tall, almost skeletally thin and dressed in flowing grey robes. Talin took a step into the hallway but one of the knights shot out an arm and pushed him back. The robed figure extended its arm towards them with a languid flourish. The air crackled, a rippling cone of air coalesced at its fingertips. It flicked its wrist.

The twisting cone flew at the knights and struck them with bone-jarring force, hurling them against the wall at the end of the hallway. Talin was thrown back into the room. He hit the floor hard, his head slammed into the table. White light exploded.

The Obsidian Prince had prepared himself for the Ward to attack when he entered the Arth, but aside of the shrill warning, nothing else had happened. In the past he’d fought the formidable magic of the Wards many times, but there was no fire this time, no dragons or griffins, no immortal warriors. There was only the pitiful alarm.

Two mortals defended the door to the Queen’s chamber. He wove a spell of air. When he raised his hand, they braced.
As if they can resist me.
He released the spell and smashed them against the wall. A swell of malevolent joy rose within him, he had cast a harming spell, and the Arth had done nothing. He smiled.
I’m going to enjoy this.

Bear took the last flight of stairs three at a time. Stenna had fallen behind, but she couldn’t wait; something terrible was close to Tal and the Queen. In the corridor outside of the Queen’s chamber two knights were lying in a heap against the far wall. Between her and them was a tall, hooded figure. It turned to face her. She felt a primal rush of fear and revulsion as she locked eyes with the creature. The stench made her gag.
Nothing living smells this bad.

“Well, well, an Unmaker. Not quite what I expected.” Its laughter sounded like metal scraping stone. “Come, pup—let’s see your fangs.”

“I won’t be drawn by the likes of…whatever you are. And do you ever bathe? You smell like a cesspit.” Bear drew her sword and advanced.

“Why, look! It’s going to attack me with a sword. What other tricks have they taught you? Can you sit up and beg? Roll over perhaps?”

Whatever it was, it knew her true nature, but she wouldn’t let it provoke her.

“You refuse to reveal yourself? Have it your way, foolish creature. If you wish to mimic your masters, you shall suffer like them.”

The Obsidian Prince summoned his powers and warped the air around him. Twisting its pattern to suit his purpose, his magic hammered the air into a blade and he hurled it at the werebeast. The creature was almost upon him when the blast struck her in the chest, and sent her flying back. She hit the wall, cracking the masonry and slumped to the floor. She did not get up.

“Too easy.”

He walked towards the Queen’s chamber, his prey within reach. The sound of footsteps echoed up the stairs. “More fools charging to their doom.” He sighed and prepared to destroy the stairwell…

A shiver ran down his withered spine. He lowered his hand. “If it isn’t the
demon slayer…”
he hissed at the woman who charged into the corridor. When she saw him she skidded to a halt. One look at the Unmaker and the broken humans should have set her feet to flight. But she held her ground, her pretty emerald eyes blazed with anger. She was not what he’d expected. “How did
you
slay one of the Order? You’re just a child, an un-tempered blade…and who gave you an imbued sword? You could hurt someone.”

“Funny you should say that,
demon,”
she said.

There was confidence here, steel in her voice. The sorcerer extended his hand towards her. “Bravely said. Come, child—let us play.”

Alyda charged but the minute he raised his bony hand, she knew she wasn’t going to reach him. A moment later, it felt like she’d run into a wall. An invisible force enveloped her and squeezed the air from her lungs. She couldn’t draw breath, couldn’t move. She fell to her knees, stars dancing before her eyes. The sorcerer took a slender dagger from his robes and glided toward her.

“So here you are, come to save your Queen, but who will save you, bright eyes? I think I will take them, to remind me of you. Don’t worry, I’ll let you keep them long enough for you to watch me feast on your heart, and this time, no one will save you.”

The crushing pressure increased, her ribs felt like they were about to break. The sorcerer stopped. From behind her she heard a low, rumbling growl. Alyda managed to crane her neck round. It was Bear. She was crouched by the wall, her inhuman eyes shining with an inner light. Ensnared, Alyda could only watch as Bear underwent a horrific transformation.

The noblewoman’s armour flexed, the metal groaned. Claws burst from the huge paws that had been her hands and long yellow fangs tore through the skin of her elongating jaw. Armour straps snapped, rivets burst, and the metal shell buckled and fell away. What emerged from the debris was a creature that bore little resemblance to the woman it had been scant moments before. The beast let out a roar and charged the demon. A blur of claws and fur, it leapt, missing Alyda by inches.

Bear swung a huge taloned paw at the demon. It threw up its arms, the heavy swipe snapped bones. The sorcerer screamed and staggered back. Bear crouched, ready to leap again. The sorcerer thrust out its hand. An icy blast of air struck the shapeshifter, slamming her against the wall.

The invisible bonds that had been squeezing the life out of Alyda fell away and she hit the floor. The sorcerer shouted something in a tongue Alyda thought she recognised. The air behind it began to shimmer.

Bear leapt again, this time her claws tore into the wounded sorcerer’s chest, spraying the corridor with ichorous blood. It stumbled back into the shimmering wall of air and vanished. When Bear pounced again her claws slashed empty air. She roared her fury; her great shaggy head swung round and her baleful gaze fell on Alyda.

When he opened his eyes, Talin was somewhat alarmed to see Olin standing over him with an axe, and then he remembered what had happened.

“Tal! Thank the gods, you’re alive!” Oli cried. It sounded like all the demons of the Void were loose in the corridor.

“What hit me?” Talin groaned, tentatively feeling the egg-sized lump on the back of his head.

“Something threw you back and you hit your head on the table. When I saw you were hurt I locked the door. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You did the right thing.” Talin got up, unlocked the door and opened it a crack. He expected to see the skeletal creature, but it was nowhere in sight. Instead he saw Bear, and she had changed.

On seeing his friend transformed, he guessed what had happened to the creature, but there was little cause for celebration. There wasn’t a body in the hall, and Bear was stalking Alyda, who was on her knees with a sword in her hand.

“Bear, no! Ali, please don’t—” Talin ran into the hall and put himself between them.

“I don’t want to hurt her, Talin…” Alyda warned.

“I don’t want either of you to get hurt.” He raised his hands and edged towards Bear. “Bear listen to me,” he pleaded. “It’s me—Talin. Try to remember who you are.”

“Never mind try!” Alyda snapped.

Bear snarled.

As if the situation wasn’t bad enough, two terrified-looking guards appeared at the top of the stairs. When they’d recovered from the shock of seeing a shapeshifter, they levelled their crossbows at Bear.

“Lower your weapons!” Talin commanded.

The guards exchanged a look of confused resignation, and put up their bows.

“Bear,
Iris
. It’s me, Talin. For the love of Asha! Snap out of it.”

Talin slowly inched closer, keeping his hands raised. Bear gave a low rumbling growl that he felt more than heard. She took a step towards him. Alyda got up, drew back her sword. This was the worst situation he could possibly imagine. Two of the people he loved most in the world were on the verge of killing each other.

“It’s alright, Iris…” said Talin in a soothing voice.

Bear glared at him, her lips peeled back in a snarl, but Talin was sure he could see the ghost of the woman in the beast’s features. For several tense minutes she held him with her sulphurous gaze before lowering herself onto what was rapidly becoming a hairless, human elbow.