A Blade So Black

by L. L. McKinney

  Alice hit the wall of crystal foliage at full speed. Leaves smacked her face; branches scratched exposed skin and yanked at her clothes. When she emerged in a small clearing on the other side of the tree line, she stumbled to a stop. Odabeth dropped to her knees, whimpering around sobs of Xelon’s name. Alice’s chest heaved. Her face and hands throbbed. She fought to stay on her feet. Dee stood over the princess, eyes alert.

  Dem exploded from the bush, wearing half of it. He lumbered to a stop, his and Dee’s eyes asking each other if they were all right. Alice kept her eyes on the shimmering leaves, her chest tightening with every second that ticked by.

  The typhoon of emotion loosed inside her made her dizzy. “You two get Odabeth to the Gateway.” She darted back into the brush.

  “Alice!” one of the twins shouted, but she didn’t stop.

  She stormed through, running, praying. The brightness of the leaves blinded her, their edges like razors against her skin. She ignored the stinging, pushed through the aches coating her body. She broke through. Darkness hung thick on the other side, the haze of the Glow fighting for dominance. She blinked as her vision clouded to adjust, like trying to see the world through murky water. Her head whipped around, searching.

  Howling and cries of effort drew her attention. Xelon stood maybe fifty yards off, braced against a silver tree, one arm wrapped around her torso, the other gripping her sword as she swung. Two Fiends circled her, snapping shy of where her blade cut an arc in the air.

  “We’ll peel you out of your armor,” one Fiend snarled.

  “It will be quick and painless, dear one, we promise.”

  Xelon could turn, try to run to safety, but they’d get her before she made it, drag her into the black, and tear her apart. Alice darted toward them as one beast dove to the side and lunged, digging teeth into Xelon’s leg. She shouted.

  “No!” Alice screamed. Her hands went to Dem’s sword at her back.

  The Fiends’ heads snapped up. Their lips parted with fanged snarls. Xelon screamed at Alice to go back.

  She drew the sword free and gripped it in both hands so tight her knuckles popped. Heat suffused her arms, her hands, her fingers. Her pulse pounded like war drums in her limbs.

  Barking, the Fiends came at her, monsters charging in the night.

  She lifted the blade. The thrumming in her arms shot to her palms. Her hands burned, the sensation familiar from the ache when she killed the Fiend before. This time the pain was excruciating, and she nearly lost her grip on the sword. Shock locked her fingers around the hilt as her body leaped into action without her permission.

  “Be gone!” Her voice rang like a stranger’s in her ears as she twisted into a swing.

  Light erupted from her sword and sliced a clean arc into the air. Like some sort of lethal crescent moon, it slammed into an approaching Fiend, sending it flying with a yowl. The other Fiend peeled off, stamping the ground as it circled her instead of attacking.

  Alice swung again, and again, hurling blades of light at the monsters. They dodged and ducked, the arcs shooting off and vanishing into the night when they missed. Those that hit hammered their targets, flinging them to the ground.

  The beasts withdrew, their howls fading as they ran. She gazed after them, her lungs drinking in gulps of air that raked her throat like shards of glass. Every muscle ached. Her body swayed like a sail in a battering breeze. Her fingers finally loosed their death grip on the sword. It thudded to the ground, and pain radiated from her palms. She eyed the reddened skin where it rose in clustered welts.

  Someone called her name. She wanted to answer, but her lips remained closed, the words trapped in her cotton mouth. Her knees knocked. Fatigue flooded her system, soaking her like a sponge. It pulled at her, hauling her toward the ground, and she hit the grass knees first, sinking to sit. Dem dropped beside her, grabbing her hands to examine them, asking all sorts of questions that were a hum in her mind.

  What … what just happened? The sword. That light. Her head snapped up, and her eyes homed in on Xelon, who remained tilted against the tree. The surprise on her face equaled Alice’s own, and something more, something questioning.

  Xelon shifted, flinching as she gripped at red-stained armor.

  “We have to help her.” Alice made to get up, but Dem’s hold kept her still.

  “Are you all right?” he demanded, sounding concerned and a little annoyed.

  “I—I’m fine. Get Xelon.”

  “Can you move?” Dem asked.

  “Yes, go.” She waved him in that direction, and he jogged over, his voice quiet as he asked Xelon the same line of questions, no doubt.

  Alice took a few deep breaths before forcing herself to stand. The instant she was certain her legs would hold her weight, even though they felt like overcooked spaghetti, she joined the other two as quickly as she dared.

  As she approached, the severity of Xelon’s injuries became clear. Blood and dirt coated her armor. Deep grooves from claws and teeth scored the white plates. Pieces were missing, exposing rips in leather and broken links. Pale as she was before, all color had fled her face, slicked with sweat and blood, her expression pained as Dem examined her.

  “How is she?” Alice asked, her eyes following a trickle of red as it slid along Xelon’s thigh.

  “Not good.” Dem straightened from where he’d been looking over the bite in Xelon’s leg.

  “Can you walk?” Alice asked. Worry pitched her voice high.

  “With that leg, she’ll be lucky if she can stand.” Dem shook his head. “Here, get her on.” He spun around and knelt, arms out expectantly.

  Xelon shifted forward, and Alice helped her into position against Dem’s back wincing at the stinging in her hands. The younger Tweedle locked his arms under Xelon’s legs and stood with a grunt of effort.

  “You good?” Alice asked them both.

  Xelon, one arm draped over Dem’s shoulder, the other clutching his torso, nodded.

  “Da.” Dem shifted Xelon’s weight before heading into the glowing brush.

  Alice moved to follow, though she paused long enough to grab Xelon’s sword. She hesitated before lifting the one she’d borrowed from the Tweedles. It looked like a regular Figment Blade again, no glowing or shooting light. She grit her teeth against the pain—god, her hands hurt—and sheathed it on her back and hurried to catch up.

  As they stomped through the tangle of glass-like branches and vines, she ignored the looks Xelon threw her. She’d seen it, the light in Alice’s sword. Dem must not have, otherwise his mouth would be going a mile a minute. Thank goodness, because she didn’t have an explanation to offer.

  When they emerged, Odabeth and Dee stood waiting for them. The princess took one look at her knight and burst into tears, hurrying to Xelon.

  “I’m all right, milady.” Xelon smiled with a wince. “Alive and well.”

  “Define well,” Dem grumbled.

  “You were supposed to take her to the Gateway,” Alice said.

  Dee shook his head. “She refused.”

  “We need to hurry, get her through so she can get looked at,” Alice urged.

  “Need a hand?” Dee asked his brother.

  Dem shook his head and adjusted Xelon, who flinched. “Sorry. And no, at least not yet. But she’s not exactly dainty, so…” He nodded toward the Gateway, and Dee led the way, deeper into the Glow.

  As they hobbled along, the mist swirling between the trees parted for them. The bell-like laughter that usually filled the trees faded to whispers. No Flits or Sparks danced through the air, no flowers sang. The Glow itself seemed to recoil at their passing, the branches shifting ever so slightly, as if to move out of the way. Even the light itself was different, harsh and painful. Alice squinted and had to shield her eyes on occasion.

  Odabeth, still in tears, fawned over Xelon, going on about how she was sorry and she was going to make sure she got the best care possible. The knight took it in stride, reassuring her.

  As they mov
ed, Alice gingerly pulled her mirror free and knocked against it.

  “Open my eyes.”

  The surface shifted and warped until the Duchess’s face filled the frame. She looked Alice up and down. “You look like hell.”

  “We’re almost to the Gateway. Xelon’s hurt pretty bad; she’ll need to be looked at.”

  Maddi’s face appeared over the Duchess’s shoulder. “How bad? What happened?”

  Alice swiped at her forehead with her sleeve as words caught in her throat. “W-we were attacked. Fiends, they ambushed—”

  “Fiends?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Did they bite anyone?” Maddi demanded, yellow eyes wide, a panicked note in her tone.

  Alice looked over the five of them trudging through the Glow. From what she had seen, the only one to sustain any bite injuries was the knight. “Xelon. She was bitten.”

  Maddi grumbled something Alice couldn’t make out. Maddi’s head disappeared.

  “We’re preparing a room,” the Duchess said. “Is everyone else all right? The boys?” Worry was etched into her face, her tone pitched higher.

  “We’re fine.”

  “Be sure and keep it that way. See you shortly.”

  The image winked out, the surface of the mirror swirling to its original state. As Alice placed it in her pouch, she picked up the pace. Not since the battle at Ahoon had she so desperately wanted to leave Wonderland. And with those Fiends now running around, she wasn’t too keen on return trips anytime soon.

  Twenty

  THE BLACK KNIGHT

  As happy as Alice was to be back in the pub, her insides reeled from the journey between realms. She pulled in careful breaths, in through her nose and out through her mouth, as she clutched a small wastebasket to her chest, her face inches shy of pressing into it.

  “Uuuuuugh, I hate feeling like this,” she moaned.

  “That … is super gross.” Dem made a face where he stood over her. The two of them remained in the broom closet, the last ones through from Wonderland. She’d been eager to go after Xelon—who’d been taken away to be seen to—and check on Hatta, but first needed to be able to walk without throwing up.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong.” She squeezed her eyes shut and rocked a little, settled on her knees. “It hasn’t been this bad in a long time.”

  “Bad enough to shove your face in a trash can,” Dem muttered.

  “And bad enough without your commentary—shut up.” When she felt she could lift her head with no problem, she pushed the trash can away and hugged herself with mostly healed but still slightly sore hands. It was weird she hadn’t recovered yet. Hell, her other cuts and bruises were still fresh.

  Dem continued to pat her, unbothered by the hot mess she’d become. She released a low grown and murmured her thanks.

  “Knock, knock.” Maddi rapped her knuckles against the doorjamb. “Here ya go. Thought this might help.” She handed over a glass filled with a brownish liquid.

  “God, yes.” Alice reached for the potion.

  Dem took it and transferred it to her. She knocked it back like a woman dying of thirst.

  “Smells like dog shit,” he complained.

  Alice shut her eyes and focused on the feeling of the liquid slipping past her throat, fizzy and bubbling. It tasted like a Coke infused with Tang and was like magic for her nausea, dog-shit smell or not. It coated her insides and tamped down the churning.

  “Thanks.” Alice sighed, the empty glass warming her fingers.

  “Again. Gross.” Dem stood and helped her up.

  “This way.” Maddi headed down the hall.

  Now that Alice’s stomach troubles were over, worry for her friends took the place of the nausea, and she was still pissed at Hatta for lying about the Eye. Ass. “How are they?”

  “Xelon’s injuries themselves aren’t fatal,” Maddi explained. “Still looking her over.”

  “And Hatta?” Alice clutched the glass a little tighter.

  “He’s…” Maddi paused in front of a closed door, her hand on the knob. “Stable.” She didn’t glance at Alice before pushing her way in.

  Alice didn’t like the way Maddi said that. “What do you mean stable?” she asked, trailing after her.

  “The traditional definition, I’m sure,” Hatta said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He gazed at her with ringed eyes, the color all but drained from them. The rest of his face pasty and clammy, he managed a smile that was more a grimace.

  Her earlier anger at being lied to faded under relief, and Alice rushed to throw her arms around him, mindful of his weakened state. He felt thin, but at least he was awake and talking. She took a deep breath, reveling in his candied bourbon scent.

  “Glad to see you, too.” He curled an arm around her waist and gave her a weak squeeze.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked without letting go.

  “I’ve had better days.” He patted her back, and she finally withdrew, but didn’t go far.

  She planted herself on the edge of the bed beside him, eyes moving over every inch she could see. “We brought Princess Odabeth. We’re going to find the Eye, use it to find the Heart, and make you better.”

  “Hn.” Hatta leveled a dark look at Maddi, who busily packed up her mixing tools while meeting his glare. “I’m touched you went through all this trouble, but you shouldn’t have.”

  That was not expected. Alice glanced between the two of them.

  “What’s wrong?” Alice asked.

  “Madeline and Anastasia have brought me up to speed on this rescue mission you all planned. Hunting for the Eye? Planning to go after the Heart—you’re doing this imposter’s work for him.”

  “I think he may be more than an imposter,” Maddi murmured. “They were attacked by Fiends.”

  “What?” Hatta’s gaze flew to Alice, then back to Maddi.

  “I’ve never seen anything like them.” Alice chewed at her lower lip. That wasn’t exactly true. “Except the night we met. Outside the hospital. That one talked to me. These did as well. And Xelon said they were Fiends. She’d know, right?”

  “Damn it,” Hatta snapped. “How many were there?”

  “Three.” Alice held up that many fingers, as if that would help. “I killed one. I didn’t know…”

  “It’s okay. You did what you had to do.” Hatta reached to squeeze her fingers. She didn’t even flinch this time.

  “Addison,” Maddi started. “The signs are all there.”

  Hatta shook his head. “Impossible.”

  “What?” Alice asked.

  Hatta remained quiet.

  Maddi cleared her throat. “All remaining Fiends were either killed or cured after the war. Or so we thought.” She looked to Alice. “When you were attacked that night outside the hospital, we figured we missed one. Or something. But three?” Maddi glanced at Hatta, then back to Alice. “What if someone is turning people?” she asked quietly. “He has a Vorpal Blade—”

  “No. No, it has to be something else,” Hatta said.

  “There is nothing else.” Maddi stepped forward, almost pleading.

  “No!” Hatta snapped. “It’s not possible.”

  A hard pounding set in between Alice’s ears. Why was Hatta being so stubborn about this? “This guy can summon Nightmares, poison people with this Madness mess, and maybe even create Fiends, but you’re still convinced he’s some random wannabe.”

  “He’s not the Black Knight.” Hatta pressed his hands to the sides of his bowed head. “He can’t be.”

  “What makes you so—” Alice’s words dried up on her tongue when Hatta jerked and lifted his head.

  His eyes flew wide, the colors dark again. The black in them set off the burning amber.

  Alice shifted backward despite herself.

  Dem jolted where he still stood in the doorway, his hand on his sword, his body tense. Alice had forgotten he was there. His gaze bounced between her and Hatta as if asking her what to do.

  Hatta shut
his eyes and took a slow, shaky breath, a hand lifted. “Sorry, sorry, I can’t—I’m trying to fight it, but it’s hard.” He released a low groan, strained.

  Maddi moved forward, setting her hand to his forehead, then his chest, murmuring words too low to make out. She gave him a glass of something red that he swallowed without question.

  “I’m not convinced he’s an imposter—I know it for a fact.” Hatta spat the words from behind clenched teeth. “Because I’m the Black Knight.”

  Twenty-One

  BEST-LAID PLANS

  Alice didn’t believe one word that came outta Hatta’s mouth. What he said made a painful amount of sense, but wouldn’t compute. Her brain refused to accept the information, so she sat there, staring, waiting for him to say something else.

  “You’re the Black Knight?” Dem sounded as surprised and disbelieving as she felt.

  Impossible, she wanted to say, but the word stuck in her throat. Hatta was sweet and funny and got worried when you were hurt and made sure you got home safely at night. He laughed at bad jokes and preferred stories with happily ever afters. He put more effort into looking after lost strangers that wandered into the pub—like Sprigs—than some people put into looking after loved ones. He defended people, protected them, pushed them when they needed to keep going or held them when they needed to break down. He was gentle, patient, and self-sacrificing, everything the Black Knight wasn’t.

  So why was he nodding?

  “Rather, I was. The original.” Hatta smoothed his hands along his thighs. “Back when I was simply the knight, I served my Queen and her daughters. My duty composed all of me, and I excelled at it. Until I failed miserably.”

  Ice poured through Alice’s veins, numbing her from head to toe. But that didn’t stop the pain twisting in her chest. “Odette,” she whispered.

  Hatta nodded without looking up. Maddi withdrew her touch, backing away as he sank even farther into himself, back rounded, arms draped over his thighs. “I was supposed to protect them, protect her. I—I…”