Shards of a Broken Sword

by W. R. Gingell

  “Of course,” said Fancy. “Isn’t it the part of a good dog to die by its master’s side? Will you begin, or must I?”

  As leisurely as they had been before, were the Fae lightning fast when they had decided upon action. The first lunged forward, light and deadly, his blade darting for her heart, and Fancy spun in a scraping of blades. The Fae saw his blade slicked up and away just far enough to slice past Fancy’s neck by a hair’s-breadth, his eyes following as she curled in close with him, shoulder to shoulder, but he never saw the second blade that sliced off his head as Fancy completed her spin and embraced his shoulders from behind. The Fae’s body stood still for a moment, held fast about the shoulders in the grim parody of a friendly embrace, before Fancy let it drop. The Fae’s head bounced across the carpet, spurting blood, and came to rest at Carmine’s feet.

  “Fancy!” howled Carmine. “There is blood on my breeches!”

  “I apologise, my lord,” said Fancy, her knives moving very slightly in the air. She turned back to face the other Fae fully, her eyes locking with his, and he smiled.

  “Come to me, sister,” he said, and there was a surprised sort of respect to his voice.

  This time, Fancy made the first move, a swift feint to the right that didn’t shift the Fae. Instead, he caught her back-slashing left knife, disengaged, and shoved her backward. Fancy moved with the shove and landed lightly, her blades dancing at her sides and her knees just a little bent. Carmine, who had been caught in horrified fascination by the head at his feet, now forgot about it entirely and sat down with his mouth open to watch Fancy.

  There wasn’t a great deal left to watch: the second Fae followed his shove with a brief, slashing sally that bloomed red as Fancy cut through it with one knife and slid her second up and between his ribs at the side where his chest-piece ended. The Fae vomited blood and fell forward as Fancy stepped swiftly back, disengaging her blades. She nudged him with the toe of her boot, but he was already dead, so she wiped the blood away on his short cloak and resheathed her knives.

  She looked expectantly at Carmine, but he was still gazing up at her, his face entirely fascinated. She prompted: “We should go, my lord.”

  “I think I’m in love,” Carmine murmured.

  “You can’t be,” Fancy said. “Remember that you don’t fall in love with women who aren’t beautiful. I could never match your plumage.”

  “That’s true,” agreed Carmine, “but isn’t it the female who has the brown plumage, after all? You–”

  “My lord,” said Fancy. “There are at least three other windows along this hall. If there are going to be two Fae climbing through each of them, we’ll shortly be outnumbered.”

  Carmine stood swiftly. “A very good point, Fancy. How many windows are there before we get to the stairs?”

  “Too many,” said Fancy, and led the way.

  Still, there were no more Fae between them and the stairs, and by the time the crystal landing was in sight, Carmine let out a breath of relief. “The stairs,” he said. “Nearly there, Fancy!”

  “I think not,” said Fancy, coming to a stop at the upper landing. Carmine, catching up with her, saw what she had seen: the hall below was already crowded with Fae. There were at least fifteen Fae there, mixed Seelie and Unseelie, and a good half of them were wearing the same magic-resistant armour that the other Fae had been wearing.

  Fancy hissed regretfully. “Oh, that’s unfortunate. Do stay behind me, my lord, and if it looks like they’re about to surround me–”

  “I’ll jump into the hall and run for the passage alone, leaving you to die?” suggested Carmine pleasantly. “Thank you so much. Just what I was thinking.” He leaned over the edge of the landing, and before Fancy could stop him, called out affably: “Isn’t this a charming sight? Seelie and Unseelie working together for the good of Faery! So unlike the Seelie Fae earlier: they tried to steal a march on everyone by sneaking through a window. Tsk tsk. Shocking.”

  The two lead Fae looked at each other, silver glowering and gold suspicious, and then up at Carmine.

  “You’re lying, traitor,” said the Unseelie Fae.

  “We can throw you their heads, if you like,” Carmine said. “Well, Fancy can. I don’t like to touch them: they’re a bit messy.”

  The Seelie Fae said, with the slightest glance at his Unseelie counterpart: “Seelie and Unseelie are working together.”

  “You should tell that to your men,” Carmine pointed out. “They look very uncomfortable to me. Oh, look! That one seems to be drawing his sword.”

  It was the Seelie Fae furthest toward the back who moved first. His sword was already half-drawn, and as his hand wavered, the slightest sound of sword against scabbard rasped through the silent room. Swords were drawn in an instant, and the floor below became an instant melee, silver clashing with gold, and scarlet staining the whole.

  “You’re welcome, Fancy,” said Carmine, and bowed. Fancy grabbed him by the wrist mid-bow and dragged him down the stairs, much to his protestation. “Fancy! Fancy, we’re supposed to go away from the Fae with swords!”

  “We need the passage,” Fancy said tersely, slapping away a blade that came too, and shoving Carmine behind her again. “This is the best chance we’ll get. Quick!”

  “Why do you know where the passage is?” groaned Carmine, tugged into a run again. “Am I master of this castle, or am I not?”

  Fancy said soothingly: “Of course you are, my lord. Duck, please. Oh, sorry.”

  “Blood again! If this doesn’t come out of my hair, Fancy–!”

  “I’ll wash it for you later,” said Fancy, with a commendable lack of exasperation.

  Carmine, brightening, said: “All right, then,” and allowed himself to be pushed through the closest door without objecting.

  “Quickly,” Fancy said, dragging him across the room. “Whatever Fae are left of that lot will be after us as soon as they pick themselves up.”

  “It’s all very well to say that when you’ve shut us into a room with only one exit,” remarked Carmine. “But since you’re suddenly a terrifying beauty with blades and know about my own personal secret escape passage, I suppose you have some way of getting us out of here.”

  “Everyone knows about your personal secret passage,” muttered Fancy.

  “Good heavens, not that one.” Carmine looked at her more closely. “You don’t know about the real one, then? What a relief! I was beginning to think I’d welcomed a spy to my bosom.”

  “You’ve always welcomed spies to your bosom,” said Fancy. “You say it’s the best place to keep them. And I do know about the other passage, but we haven’t got time to get there.”

  “Then how will we escape?”

  Fancy, who was busy pushing at spots on the wallpaper, said: “We won’t. We’re going to hide for a while, then we’ll escape. There’s another passageway closer by. Oh, here we go!”

  Carmine stared blankly at the hole that had so suddenly appeared in the wall. “This isn’t a passage. Not even for a brownie.”

  “That’s what I just said,” nodded Fancy. “We’re going to hide. In you get, my lord. Squash up, please: we both have to fit.”

  “If we must, we must,” said Carmine, wriggling his brows.

  Silence. Silence and darkness. Outside the hidey-hole, Fae searched Glasslight Castle, magic seeking and searching through nooks and crannies, passing from room to room.

  Inside the hidey-hole, the darkness remained, but the silence was broken.

  “How long have you been serving me now, Fancy?”

  A sigh. “Is it important, my lord?”

  “I suppose not,” said Carmine. “But I thought we might as well have some conversation if we’re just waiting around to die.”

  “I’ve been serving you for five years now,” Fancy said. “And we’re not going to die. We’re going to escape through to the human world and keep out of sight for a little while. I know that will be very difficult for you, but–”

  “There’s
no need to make such a small space stuffy with that amount of sarcasm,” Carmine protested. “I’m not sure I approve of your carrying knives, Fancy. It makes you too sharp.”

  “I was always sharp,” Fancy said. “You only notice it more now because you thought my tongue was the only sharp thing about me.”

  “Patently false,” declared Carmine. “I’ve always had an immense amount of respect for the sharpness of your elbows as well. Do you think they’ve gone? Shall I fetch us a little bit of light?”

  “You might as well,” said Fancy. “They won’t be able to sense it with all the other magic that’s going off in the castle at the moment. Goodness: they’re being a bit loud, aren’t they?”

  “Other ma– what other magic?”

  “All those little things I’ve been asking you to enchant for the past cycle,” said Fancy. “It’s like little firecrackers going off all over the castle. They’ve already stopped looking at the minor ones, I’ll wager.”

  She leaned forward to press her ear against the wall opposite the hidden entrance, just barely avoiding Carmine’s bare chest, and he said: “Not that I’m complaining, Fancy, but isn’t the entrance on your side? If you wanted to get closer to me, you only had to ask. On a side-note, have you always smelled of cardamom, or is this a special occasion?”

  “That’s probably because of the knives, too,” said Fancy callously. “I’ve heard it said that the senses become especially sensitive in the face of mortal danger. I’m wearing the same perfume I’ve worn since I was a little girl. And I’m listening to this side because this is the side we’ll need to leave by.”

  Their eyes met for a moment, and Fancy looked away almost immediately, shifting position so that she was gazing at the darkness behind Carmine instead. By contrast, Carmine continued to gaze at Fancy, his eyes thoughtful and slightly speculative, and Fancy’s shoulders grew tense.

  At last, his fingers leaving little dots of red magic where they tapped against the floor of the hole, Carmine said idly: “On another side-note, why are so many Fae and so much magic passing this convenient little hole entirely by?”

  Fancy gave the smallest snort, and relaxed infinitesimally. “Fae. Always thinking they’re so clever. They’re passing it by because they’re looking for magic: concealing magic, transport magic, tunnelling magic. They’re not looking for mechanical entrances and exits because it never occurs to their brilliant and highly intelligent minds that anything unmagical can possibly be as good as something magical.”

  “I’d object, but it’s true,” remarked Carmine, and a small ribbon of ruby magic flared up between them. “Fancy, am I sitting on a pack?”

  “Probably,” said Fancy, without looking. She was still listening intently at the wall. “I pushed it in from this side, and you were first in.”

  “You had a pack in here, ready for us?”

  “Ready for you. Do you mind not putting that flicker right in my face, my lord?”

  “Yes, I do mind. You’ve been a very deceitful serf, and I want to see if you’re hiding any more secrets.”

  Fancy continued to gaze at the space over his shoulder, ostensibly listening carefully. “I’m not hiding any more secrets. Check your pack to make sure it has everything you need.”

  “Unless it has champagne in it, I’m quite certain it doesn’t,” remarked Carmine, but he opened the pack with fingers that ran ruby with magic. “Where’s your pack, Fancy?”

  “I have everything I need with me,” said Fancy, shifting slightly. “It’s getting quieter out there, my lord. We’ll be able to move soon.”

  Carmine, who was investigating the contents of the pack, complained: “Why is there a shirt in this pack? You could have fit at least one bottle of champagne in here!”

  “Because I was quite certain that you wouldn’t have one on when it came time to run.”

  “When it came time to– and that reminds me! How long have you been colluding with Barric?”

  “That?” Fancy took her ear away from the wall at last. “A few years now, I should think. He was worried that something like this would happen, and took me into his confidence. We’ve had reason to fight together once, so he knows what I’m capable of.”

  Carmine, indignantly, said: “You belong to me, Fancy, and I won’t have you flirting with other Fae!”

  “It was fighting, not flirting,” Fancy said dryly.

  “With Barric, that is flirting. You’re not to fight with him any more.”

  “You’re the one who told me to keep him from the door if he came again.”

  “Then I take it back,” muttered Carmine. “Anyway, if the Seelie keep that lot up out there, it’s not very likely I’ll have a door to my name after today, so there’s no reason for you to be keeping my door.” An especially loud crash from somewhere in the extremities of the castle lent credence to his fears, and Carmine winced. By way of keeping his mind off the destruction outside, he said: “You’ve never told me why you decided to come with me that day, Fancy.”

  “You kidnapped me, my lord.”

  “Yes, I know that. But with the kind of irritating little charms you had sewn about your skirts and those knives—which I assume, Fancy, were hidden all the time in your petticoats!—you could have put up quite the struggle. You could have killed me without losing too many of those silver charms.”

  “No,” said Fancy slowly. “I’m quite certain I couldn’t have killed you. If it comes to that, my lord, why did you choose to take me? There were others in that room who were trying to break Parrin’s curse– prettier by far than me, too. I was surprised that you chose me.”

  “Obviously I chose you because I’m a masochist,” muttered Carmine. “I knew you wouldn’t let me get away with things I shouldn’t get away with, and you were so straight and tall that I wasn’t afraid of falling in love with you. I was quite sure you weren’t beautiful enough to tempt me.”

  Fancy gave a soft, unexpected snort of laughter. “I’ve always been useful that way. It was one of the considerations I had when I came with you. We can go now, my lord.”

  “Yes, but now things are more difficult,” complained Carmine. “I was quite sure that you weren’t beautiful, so I was quite sure I couldn’t possibly be in love with you, but now I’ve seen you dance with the Fae. It’s no use pretending you’re not beautiful, now.”

  “We can go now, my lord,” repeated Fancy.

  “Yes, but now I don’t want to go,” said Carmine, a sparkling red trail of his magic slipping silkily around Fancy’s wrist. “I want to stay and discuss–”

  “Carmine!”

  If there had been any remaining Fae in the next room, they would have seen a section of the wall mysteriously cave in on itself, and a shirtless Fae tumbling from the hole. They would have seen, moreover, a tall, flushed human woman climbing out behind him and unbuckling her sheathed knives from her legs as if absorbed by the task.

  “What are you doing, Fancy?” demanded Carmine. “There’s no reason to go drawing knives because I tried to kiss you. Let’s not be over-dramatic.”

  “The irony of you referring to anyone else as over-dramatic–”

  “I know,” agreed Carmine. “Astounding, isn’t it? Darling Fancy. Please don’t kill me.”

  Fancy threw him an exasperated look. “The knives aren’t meant to be sheathed at my legs,” she said. “That’s just where I’ve been keeping them so that no one could see them. I prefer a cross-draw from the back.”

  Carmine, not quite beneath his breath, said: “I liked them where they were.” Louder, he added: “Where to from here, Fancy? I only ask since you seem to know the secrets of my castle better than I do.”

  “It’s just down the hall, in the silver morning room,” said Fancy, fastening the last buckle of her sheathes. She shrugged her shoulders to test the fit and nodded decisively. “That should do it, I think. My lord! Wait! I have to check the hall first!”

  She was speaking to an open, empty door. Carmine, leaving his pack behind, had alr
eady wandered into the hall. Fancy muttered beneath her breath and scooped the pack up as she passed, stuffing Carmine’s shirt back in. She followed swiftly, but not so swiftly that she didn’t check the length of the hall, both ways, before entering the hall. The left was clear. To the right, a smiling Fae was softly stepping to move within throwing range of the oblivious Carmine, a knife already raised.

  “Carmine!” shrieked Fancy.

  Carmine, ducking instinctively, barely avoided the first knife. Fancy leapt for her lord, long and low, and tackled him to the ground with a solid thump, colliding with the wall. Carmine groaned, but Fancy gave him no time to bewail his wounds: before either he or the Seelie Fae knew what was happening, she had Carmine up and through the doorway, panting.

  “Bother!” she said, slamming the door. She looked left and right, and seized on a rather hefty easy-chair that was within reach, dragging it against the door. Outside, someone beat against the wood, shouting. “Now they know where we are. Quick, move as much furniture against the door as you can manage!”

  “Fancy,” said Carmine, his eyes very narrow, “you called me Carmine.”

  Fancy froze for the slightest moment, but made herself busy the next by tugging a display cabinet against the door. “Are you sure, my lord? I don’t think so. Do you think you could reinforce this with a little magic?”

  “I’m very certain,” Carmine said, his eyes glinting. “And you’ve done it three times, now. Fancy! Well, I never! That’s tantamount to a declaration of love, from your dour little lips.”

  “We’ll leave my lips out of this, thank you very much,” Fancy said, with a very slight pinkness to her cheeks again. “My lord, a little magic, if you please!”

  “All right,” said Carmine, helping her to move another display cabinet as his magic made bloody veins over the door. “But I want to discuss this further, Fancy! Where’s this passageway of yours?”

  “Here,” said Fancy, dragging another chair by its scrollwork top. Instead of taking it to the door, she kicked it into position against the left-hand wall. That done, she looked up and down the narrow room, measuring distance and looking with approval at the arrow-slits that were opposite the door, the only other opening in the room.