“We could ask Ruth,” Jason said. “She knows an awful lot for a kid.”
“She’s loyal to the knight,” Shula said. “He’s like a father to her.”
Did that mean that the three of them were disloyal? Madeline didn’t like to think that. She wanted to think they were protecting themselves, doing what was best for them and the Elenil, checking in on the knight to make sure he was keeping those Scim artifacts safe. “We’ll start at his solar,” Madeline said. “We can work our way down the tower from there. If they’re not in his tower, we’ll regroup and try again.”
Jason tucked the cutting board under his arm. “You know I’ll tell the knight everything if he asks me.”
Shula winced. “Jason also has a bad habit of volunteering information he doesn’t need to.”
“It’s part of my charm,” Jason said, batting his eyelashes at Shula.
“Well,” said Shula slyly, “Madeline, why don’t you and I go look in the solar to see if the knight is there. We can chat with him and ask if it would be okay for you to go to the Festival of the Turning if I go with you. We can take care of all this artifact business later.”
Madeline frowned. “But he’s—” It dawned on her what Shula was doing. “Riiiight. Jason could stand at the bottom of the stairs and shout up if he finds the knight. If the knight asks what we’re doing up there—”
“We’ll say we’re looking for him.”
“You already know he left for the day,” Jason said. “This isn’t a loophole that will work. I know you’re lying to me right now.”
“Are we?” Shula asked, and she poked him in the nose with her index finger. “Bring your cutting board and let’s go.”
A quick stop in the kitchen and then they cut across the great hall toward the knight’s tower. A huge mirror was fastened to the wall at the entrance of the stone stairway. “Stay here,” Madeline told Jason. “If someone comes, shout up to us.”
“You mean if the knight comes,” Jason said.
“Anyone who comes might know where he is, so go ahead and shout up the stairs,” Shula said.
Jason slumped against the wall. “Uh-huh.”
A thick wooden door with iron bands blocked the entrance, but it swung open at a light touch. On the other side Madeline noticed a beam of wood which could be placed in an iron bracket to brace the door from the inside. The door being open at all was a good argument the knight was gone. Unlike the stairs to Madeline’s solar, there were no tapestries on the upward climb. There were small gaps in the stone, just wide enough to shoot an arrow from, which let in the pure light of the Sunlit Lands. Across from each gap, right where the sun would hit them full on, were mirrors.
“The Knight of the Mirror earned his name,” Madeline said.
“Yeah.” Shula paused to look out an arrow slit. “He’s a careful man, Madeline. We should be cautious when we enter his room. There may be traps or alarms. Even magic.”
“He doesn’t allow magic,” Madeline said.
“The artifacts are magic,” Shula pointed out. “Nothing can be taken from his hand—that’s magic too.”
They passed a small room that projected out from the tower over the moat. A garderobe, complete with the wooden stool with a hole in it. “No magic toilet, though, as I’m sure Jason would say. I don’t know about you, but if I were going to cheat on my no-magic rule, that’s where I would do it.”
“We should still be careful,” Shula said.
A fair amount of shouting came from downstairs. Madeline couldn’t understand what Jason was saying. She leaned down the stairs and shouted, “What?”
His words were garbled, but she heard “something in the mirror.” Madeline asked Shula if she had caught more than that, but she shook her head.
“Probably making a joke,” Shula said.
That could be. They studied the closest mirror, seeing only the backward versions of themselves. Madeline shrugged and started up the stairs again.
“Hmm,” Shula said. “I thought I saw something move in the mirror.”
“Maybe you saw me.”
“Or a bird flying past the window, I guess. Nothing to worry about,” Shula said.
They continued their climb. Jason shouted something else, and although they couldn’t understand his words, his tone of voice seemed calm. They debated turning back, but at this point turning back didn’t mean they wouldn’t be caught—there was only one stairway in the tower—it only meant they wouldn’t get a chance to check the solar.
The stairway rounded the final loop, and the knight’s private room stood ten steps ahead of them. There was no door, which made sense since there was nothing in the tower other than this room, and the door at the bottom of the stairs could be locked. Shula crouched, climbing the last few steps on her hands and knees, peeking over the top of the landing. Madeline joined her, marveling again at how wonderful it was to be able to breathe. Her heart was pounding, adrenaline pumping, but she could take full, quiet breaths without coughing. She felt energized and alive.
The knight’s room had open windows in the masonry. Sunlight streamed in. There were no curtains or anything to prevent his room from being essentially in the open other than the fact that it had a roof with a long overhang that would keep rain out. A bed sat more or less in the center of the room, the sheets twisted as if they had fought the knight to keep him from sleep. A sword leaned against the bed on one side. Between the windows stood full-length mirrors, and a simple table was pushed against the wall, empty.
Madeline entered and took in the whole room, turning in a circle. She saw a flash of white in one of the mirrors, maybe caused by the sunlight. She inspected the mirror more closely and saw something strange. “Shula, look at this.”
The rumpled, unmade bed was not rumpled in the reflection. It was perfectly made, with tight corners. She looked at the table’s reflection in the mirror. She put her hand against the glass. There, on the other side, lay the Scim artifacts.
23
THE KNIGHT’S SECRET
She weeps into the fountain. She lingers at her window and sobs to hear the silent streets.
FROM “THE DESERTED CITY,” A KAKRI LAMENT
The sword caught Madeline’s eye first. Nicked, rusted, and neglected, the sword could have been found in an archaeological dig or at the bottom of the ocean. Worn leather straps wrapped the pommel. A pristine black scabbard worked with gold sat beside it, though it was clear the sword hadn’t been cleaned, sharpened, or put into the scabbard in a long time.
A silver mask lay next to the sword, almost as reflective as the mirrors. Thick red ribbons spooled from the sides of it, and its empty eyes stared at the ceiling.
A robe, carefully folded to show off the finery of its design, sat in the center of the table. It appeared to be handmade and hand dyed. It was blue with gold trim, and oxen, eagles, humans, and lions danced up the edges and around the collar.
There was a stone, white and smooth. And a thin key. Madeline tried to reach through the glass, but of course she couldn’t.
“What are you doing?”
Startled, Madeline and Shula jumped. A woman stood in the mirror, her black hair swept out of her face, her olive skin flushed with anger. She wore a rose in her hair, and her white dress, long and beautiful, pressed against the glass where it billowed out from her waist. “You are not to be in this room of Westwind,” she said. “Nor should you attempt to touch these instruments. They are not yours to handle.”
Jason stumbled into the room. “There’s someone in the mirror!” he shouted. “A woman!”
Madeline pointed to the woman with her eyes.
“Oh,” Jason said. “I see you’ve met.”
“Who are you?” Shula asked.
“You break into the knight’s solar and demand my name? Who are you, thief?”
Madeline stepped forward. “I’m Madeline Oliver. We didn’t mean any harm.”
“We did know we shouldn’t be in here, though,” Jason added. Not h
elpful, but true. “I’m Wu Song.”
“My name is Shula Bishara.”
“All of them should have known better.” The Knight of the Mirror stood in the doorway. His long black hair hung in thick curls to his shoulders, streaks of grey cascading through them. His nose, obviously broken many times before, drew one’s attention more than the piercing brown eyes, or the white scars on his brown skin. His wide shoulders filled the doorframe.
“Who, me?” Jason asked.
“Silence,” the knight said.
“You can’t learn if you don’t ask questions,” Jason said reasonably.
The knight gave him a withering glare, and Jason fell silent. “I have invited you into my home. I have extended protection to you both, and you repay me by violating my privacy. I should send you back to Archon Thenody for this.” Madeline gasped. Jason’s hands tensed. They would have to run. They might be safe here in this castle, maybe, but she could not go back to the archon’s palace. But where would they go? They might be able to return to Mrs. Raymond. Or they could petition to enter the Bidding again. Gilenyia had offered to take Madeline, more or less. Maybe she could be convinced to take Jason, too, if he could keep his mouth shut long enough for Madeline to ask.
The woman in the mirror must have seen the distress written on Madeline’s face, because her own face softened and she said, “He speaks from anger. He would not do such a thing.”
“Has your anger passed so swiftly?” The knight moved past them and put his palm on the mirror. The woman put her hand on his from the other side.
The woman’s lips twitched into a gentle smile. “You of all people should know better.”
“Ah,” the knight said. “You use my words against me.”
“That’s not exactly what you said,” Jason said, and Madeline elbowed him.
The knight turned to them. “This is Fernanda Isabela Flores de Castilla. She is the greatest lady in the Sunlit Lands or any other—compassionate, kind, and generous even to those who would burst into her chambers uninvited.”
“Is she . . . your wife?” Madeline asked gently. The knight’s lip turned up in a half snarl, then fell neutral again. His eyes narrowed, softened, then closed. One of his gloved hands rose to hide his face.
“It is not your place to ask such questions,” the knight said. “That story is for those I trust and them alone. Today,” he said, looking pointedly at each of them, “you have lost what trust you had previously earned.”
“We’ll go, Sir Knight,” Shula said.
“Sir Knight?” Fernanda said softly. “Has he not told you even his name, then?”
The knight turned his face from hers. “They call me the Knight of the Mirror. It is name enough for one such as I.”
Fernanda dropped her face toward the ground. “What I would not give to see you in your glory once again.”
The knight said nothing.
Shula looked heartbroken. Although she didn’t fight in the knight’s company because she was a magic user, she often spoke of her respect for him. “It wasn’t Shula’s idea,” Madeline said.
“Or mine,” Jason chimed in.
Madeline continued, “Archon Thenody implied you might have given the Scim back their—well, whatever this stuff is—and that you were going to turn me and Jason over to them also. The easiest way to prove him wrong or right was to find these.”
The knight pushed his hair back. He sighed heavily. “Come then, the three of you. Come close to the table.” They moved over to the table, each of them on a side. Fernanda moved to the other side of the mirror, sitting down on the reflection of the bed. “Close your eyes,” the knight said. Madeline obeyed. When he told them to open their eyes again, the reflected artifacts were now on the table in front of them.
“Whoa,” Jason said.
Madeline felt almost light headed. It was such a strange thing to see. But then, why didn’t he allow Fernanda out of the mirror if he could pull these tools out of it so easily?
The knight picked up the mask. “This is called the Mask of Passing. It is filled with Scim magic. He who wears the mask appears to be what others expect. You can see why the Elenil fear it.”
“A Scim spy could wear it and walk into the city,” Madeline said.
“He could walk into the palace,” the knight said. “Into Archon Thenody’s bedchamber, should he desire. No one would think twice, for the spy would appear to be whatever or whomever made sense.” He handed the mask to Madeline. It was shiny on the front side, like a mirror, but dark as space on the other.
The knight took the mask from her and set it back on the table. “My lady cannot leave the mirror. Nothing can be taken from my hand, save her.” A sadness washed over his face, and hers, too.
“You can pull swords out of mirrors,” Jason said. “This is better than a Las Vegas magic show. Do you do card tricks?”
“Jason,” Madeline said, annoyed. When he felt uncomfortable he made jokes. This was not, however, the time.
“Why is this sword in such disrepair?” Shula asked. “Do you want me to clean it?” It was such a clear request for forgiveness it made Madeline wince. Shula wanted to show him she could be a good soldier, to serve him in some way. He ignored her question, though, and instead told them about the Scim artifacts.
“Long ago, the Elenil defeated the Scim in a great battle. They had been long at war, and in response to an attack on Far Seeing, the Elenil rode down upon the homeland of the Scim with great fury. They killed three Scim for every Elenil who had fallen at Far Seeing. When the Scim begged for mercy, the Elenil gave it. The terms of peace included taking away any magical items the Scim might use in war. These are the most significant of them. In time the Elenil grew concerned the Scim might try to take them back. In fact, the Scim have told us more than once they intend to do so. I had been given a certain magical boon which grants me the ability to hold on to anything that is given me. None can take it from my hand unless I allow it. So long as magic reigns in Far Seeing, these things cannot be taken from this room without my permission.” He paused. “This same magic protects you two.”
“How did Shula get kidnapped?” Jason asked.
“She has not been given to me.”
“She was one of your soldiers, though.”
“Jason, hush,” Madeline said.
“No! He’s trying to make Shula feel bad for being a good friend and coming in here with you, and at the same time he doesn’t take responsibility for her being kidnapped and gone for weeks while he did nothing about it.”
“She was not my soldier—she was a magic user! You say I did nothing? Nothing but ride into Scim territories, seeking for sign of her. Who brought her home at last?” The knight’s face flushed red.
“You shouldn’t have lost her in the first place!” Jason shouted.
Shula put her hand on his arm. “Peace,” she said. “What happens in a battle is not one man’s fault.”
“I almost died trying to keep the Scim from taking you, Shula,” Jason said. He looked at Madeline. “Some people did die. Didn’t they?”
Madeline’s heart dropped, still beating, into her stomach, falling like a star through her body. Blood rushed to fill every square inch of her skin. She wasn’t ready for this conversation, not now.
“No,” the knight said. “He is not wrong. I did not realize the Scim were taking our magicked soldiers until too late. It was a bold move, and one that cost them dearly. If not for the Black Skulls, they would not have succeeded. They did, however, succeed. That must fall to me and me alone.” He shook his head. “These Black Skulls. Wherever they have come from, may the Majestic One protect us. They fight like old hands but have the strength of youth.”
“It’s good there are only three,” Shula said.
“You will find a way to defeat them,” Fernanda said. “You always have.”
“So far,” the knight said.
Fernanda stood and moved toward the knight’s reflection. “It is time to let your anger sink
away,” she said.
The knight closed his eyes. “As always, my lady, I do as you wish.” He took Shula’s hand. “Shula Bishara, you must not clean this sword. It, too, is magic. The Sword of Years it is called or the Sword of Tears by some. The Sword of Ten Thousand Sorrows.” He lifted the sword. Rust covered the heavily nicked blade. “Some have called it Thirsty, for it thirsts for the blood of those who have wronged its master. It is an old blade and a deadly one. It must not be cleaned, nor must it be placed in its scabbard again, for on the day that happens, its magic will be renewed, and it will seek again to kill those who are on its list.”
“So it’s a blade of revenge,” Shula said quietly.
“Yes. An old magic in response to ancient wrongs. Some who would feel this blade’s bite would not know the origin of its fury.” He placed it carefully on the table, beside the scabbard. “This is why I do not allow you to clean it, not because of any wrong you have done me.”
“We did wrong you, though,” Madeline said. “We didn’t believe in you when Thenody made it sound like you might betray us.”
Fernanda smiled at her, but it was the pitying smile of an adult knowing there is no way to explain to a child how little they understand. “The Elenil are ancient creatures, and they think in craftier paths than we humans. Their thoughts wander in labyrinths, and they rarely reveal their deepest hearts. No doubt the archon expected you to search here and expected the knight to learn of it.”
“It may have been a warning,” the knight said. “Or merely a reminder that he watches me.”
“Or perhaps,” said the lady, “it is because these instruments are safe not only from the Scim but from the Elenil, too. Should Archon Thenody ask for one of these tools, who knows what answer he might receive?”
“I know what answer,” the knight said. “He would not take them from my hand.”
“Thenody wasn’t totally wrong, then.” Jason said this while sitting on the floor, tying his shoes. “You’re not completely loyal to him.”
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