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

by Gingell, W. R.

  Kako gave a tiny choke of laughter and said: “All right, then.”

  “You’d better get on my back now,” said Rafiq. “It’s going to get a bit crowded when my wings come out.”

  From the air the walled garden below looked distinctly small. Rafiq, circling lazily in the bright summer sun with the tiny weight that was Kako on his back, felt chilled despite the sun. There was no sign of the Enchanted Keep at all: the garden made its own solitary square against an unending plain of rolling green. The sky itself felt alien, the breeze shifting in an infinitesimally different manner than Rafiq was used to.

  “It is Faery,” said Kako in his ear, her voice stifled with unease. It was unusually easy to hear her: the rush of wind that should have been sweeping past Rafiq’s ears at the speed of his flight didn’t make a sound here. The unnerving silence made his scales ache in unease.

  To take his mind off his disquiet, he said: -You’re familiar with Faery?-

  “Not exactly,” said Kako. “But the princess likes me to stay current with my studies in magic, and a knowledge of fae magic and Faery is useful.”

  -Do your brother and sisters practise?-

  “You’ve been with Prince Akish a long time, haven’t you?” asked Kako, after a small pause. That was interesting. She was willing to put her own secrets in his keeping, but not those of her family. Rafiq was inclined to think that her reticence meant at least one of her siblings practised magic.

  -Almost as long as I remember- he said, willing to humour her. After all, it was due to him that they were now in the Fourth Circle. -Why?-

  “Well, you’re inured, aren’t you? You’ve given up.”

  Rafiq was conscious of an unpleasant twisting in his stomach. -I haven’t given up!-

  “Of course you have,” said Kako. “You wriggle around things and make as much of a nuisance of yourself as possible because you know you’ll never escape. It’s the only way you have of fighting back.”

  It wasn’t true, thought Rafiq, dipping into the wind. It wasn’t true. He still thought of escape and freedom sometimes. But when the old king had handed him over to Akish, the very first set of Commands the young prince gave Rafiq were ones that his father the king had passed on to him.

  Rafiq wasn’t to injure or bring about the injury of Prince Akish. He was never to murder, or bring about the murder of Prince Akish. He was never to collude with those conspiring to bring about the murder or injury of Prince Akish.

  The list of Commands was both extensive and comprehensive, and Rafiq had never found a loophole in them.

  He said: -I haven’t given up- again, and circled lower for landing.

  “Well?” demanded Prince Akish when they landed and Rafiq was once again human.

  “We’re stranded,” said Rafiq shortly. “Nothing around us but walls and grass.”

  “It’s definitely Faery,” Kako said. “Not this bit we’re in, but out there. It’s like a little mushroom of the human world has sprouted up in Faery.”

  “What happened to the Keep?”

  “I think we’re still technically in it,” said Kako. “This room is just a bit leafier than a regular one.”

  Prince Akish said: “I found a door in the wall further on, but it’s the Door Out. The rest is merely garden– and not so much of it, either. It’s barely fifty yards across.”

  “Anything edible?” asked Kako casually.

  Rafiq found it hard not to grin. Was she trying to get Akish to eat potentially dangerous Faery food?

  “Some fruit: a few nuts. Nothing that doesn’t look human. Better yet, there’s a spring in the centre of the garden: we won’t lack for food or drink while we’re here.”

  “That’s all right,” said Kako; “But if there’s only one door, how do we get on?”

  “Over the wall, I suspect,” said Prince Akish.

  “The wall?” Rafiq repeated, startled. “You’re going to go into Faery?”

  “We’re going to go into Faery,” corrected Akish. “You don’t think I’m going to leave you safe and warm here in the garden while I wander Faery alone, do you?”

  Kako sighed. This made the prince look sharply at her.

  “What is it, wench?”

  “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”

  “Speak!”

  “Oh well, if you want to get stuck in Faery, that’s your business,” said Kako. “But if you’re going over the wall, I’m staying here, thank you very much.”

  “Come now, it’s not so perilous!” protested the prince.

  “Well, it depends who you are,” Kako said. “But what it all really comes down to is that over the wall is the same thing as a Door Out, except you’ll be out in Faery instead of out in the human world.”

  Rafiq gazed at her long and hard. Kako wanted them out of the Keep, he was certain. That being the case, why was she trying so hard to stop the Prince from climbing over the wall and into Faery? If what she said was true, once Prince Akish and Rafiq were lost in Faery, they wouldn’t be able to come back.

  Kako’s eyes flicked up to meet his and slid away again. “In any case, you wouldn’t be able to get back to the human world. Your highness. But then, you seem to be quite comfortable with the fae, so it’s entirely up to you.”

  Prince Akish scowled down at her. “Very well: we’ll separate and explore the garden. Reconvene at the spring in the centre in half an hour.”

  Kako immediately vanished into the shrubbery, which made Rafiq wonder more than ever what she was up to. The prince was making a direct line for the footpath that ran around the outside of the garden, so Rafiq followed Kako into the foliage, where he soon lost her among the leaves with such a thoroughness that he suspected she was using magic to avoid him.

  Since he didn’t choose to lose her, he spent some time trying to seek out and follow her magic. This was less successful than he’d hoped: Kako seemed to have a considerable enough talent at magic to be able to hide the fact that it was considerable, and Rafiq couldn’t even catch a trace of it. He spent a little time making a grid of the small garden, but when even that didn’t turn up more than a brief flicker of pink scarf he took a slightly circuitous route to the spring at the centre of the garden. He’d seen it from the air earlier, and the gentle trickling sound it made meant it was easy to find through the foliage. The sound of running water also made him realise how thirsty he’d become after his short burst of dragon-ness, and by the time he did find the spring, Rafiq was parched enough to kneel by the water and scoop up frustratingly small sips of water in his cupped palm.

  When his thirst was sated there was still no sign of Akish or Kako, and Rafiq felt it good to prowl closer to the garden walls. He could smell a fresh breeze sweeping over the wall, pleasantly tinged with half-familiar scents: it seemed to promise freedom. He was right at the wall before he knew it, his palms pressed against the brickwork as if he could force his way through to Faery, and a wild frustration taking hold of his soul.

  Why was he always to be caged? Why could he never be free?

  The spring water bubbled in his stomach, frothy and light, and the idea grew in him that he could be free: would be free. All he needed to do was climb over this wall– this cumbersome, confining wall.

  Rafiq threw himself at the brickwork, silent and savage, and climbed. He heard a babble of noise that meant nothing, a mere birdcall of nonsense that tried to pluck at his reason and return it to him. Pink fluttered in his peripheral and made dashes at him, then hit him solidly, knocking him from his hold. Fire and rose dashed into the dirt together.

  He groaned and tried to draw breath, but the someone who had knocked the breath from his lungs was now sitting on his chest and unceremoniously shoving her fingers down his throat.

  Rafiq choked; retched. Pink silk tumbled off his chest as he spasmed and jerked sideways to empty the contents of his stomach in the dirt.

  “That’s better,” said the pink silk encouragingly, when the worst of it was over.

  “No,” said Rafiq in
a thick voice, lurching to his feet again with a dog-like determination. The pink silk seemed to tangle his legs and shove at his shoulders, and he found himself tumbling into the dirt again. He scrabbled to right himself, shaking his head to clear away the strange fog that clouded it, and heard a voice that made him struggle the more determinedly for the wall.

  “What ails him? Down, you son of a lizard!”

  “Oh, be quiet!” said the pink silk despairingly. “Can’t you see you’re making him worse? Look, help me tie him to the tree.”

  There was a frosty kind of silence while Rafiq attempted a fumbling ascent of the wall and was once more dragged back.

  Then the hated voice said: “I’ve Commanded him to lie down. Why isn’t he obeying?”

  “He drank water from Faery,” said the pink silk. “I don’t know how they got it in here, but it’s Faery all right; and it’s at least strong enough to give a Thrall spell fair fight if the Thrall Commands are opposed to the desire to climb over the wall.”

  “Why hasn’t he changed back to his dragon form?”

  “I’m not sure he’s thinking clearly enough for that,” the pink silk said seriously. Somehow or other she was twined around his wrists just as she’d twined around his ankles earlier, and that coupled with the stronger, metallic presence that hove him sideways, compelled Rafiq back into the garden against his will. He felt the wall receding from him and fought doggedly to get back, but there was no resisting the twin power of metal and silk, and before long Rafiq began to feel the tug of another wall.

  “Careful, or you’ll have him going for one of the other walls,” said one of the voices. And then, as Rafiq felt himself spiralling down into heavy darkness, he was shoved against something hard and rough, his legs collapsing under him.

  The first thing that Rafiq became aware of was the sad, aching desire to be gone from this prison and over the wall into Faery. That was a very odd thought for him to have, so he considered it carefully with his eyes closed. While he was considering it he became aware of a second sensation: that of a light breeze playing across his bare toes. Why were his toes bare?

  That particular question led on to the certainty that it wasn’t a breeze playing across his toes. No, somebody was tickling him. Something light and quick stroked across the pad of his foot, causing his toes to curl instinctively. Rafiq’s eyes snapped open.

  “Oh, you’re awake,” said Kako.

  “Why are my boots gone?”

  “I actually thought you’d ask why you’re tied up, first,” she said.

  “I suppose I tried to go over the wall,” Rafiq said impatiently. “Why are my boots gone?”

  “I took them off,” Kako said. “I wanted to see if you’re ticklish.”

  “You wanted to see if I’m ticklish?”

  “Yes,” she said. “You are, by the way.”

  “It was the water, was it?”

  Kako nodded. “I checked it quickly while you were unconscious. Faery water is being pumped into the garden through the spring.”

  Rafiq grimaced slightly. He couldn’t help feeling that it was thoughtless of him to have taken water from inside the Enchanted Keep without even testing for residual magic first. How long had he been unconscious? It was now night, but the moon shone so brightly that it was hard to tell the time.

  “Don’t feel too badly about it,” said Kako, as if reading his mind. “There’s also a glamour on it. It’s supposed to draw you in.”

  “Did you know?”

  “What? No, of course not!”

  “Do you know the way out?”

  “You’re very curious tonight,” Kako said, looking at him through her eyelashes.

  “Why didn’t you want Akish and me to go over the wall?”

  “As it happens, I do know the way out,” she said. “Well, to a certain extent. I know what’s required to get us through the Circle. These last four circles are the hardest: they’re not so much about solving puzzles as they are about testing character.”

  Rafiq’s chest expanded against his bonds in a huff of a laugh. If the last four circles were tests of character, Akish had no chance at all of making it through them.

  “Exactly,” said Kako. “These few circles should be interesting.”

  Interesting was one way to put it, thought Rafiq; but there was still a curl of amusement to the corner of his mouth. He flexed uncomfortably against his bonds, and said: “When are you going to untie me?”

  “Not for quite a while yet,” said Kako. She sounded slightly apologetic. “You’ve moved toward the west wall more than two inches since we’ve been talking.”

  Rafiq stared at her, then down at the dirt around the tree he was tied to. There was a distinct pattern of shuffled dirt from where he had been to where he now sat.

  “How long will the effects last?”

  “Possibly until morning,” she said. “You threw up most of it, but some of it was already in your system. When Dai ate a Faery plum it took a week to purge it– though she ate the whole thing, of course.”

  “Of course she did,” said Rafiq, with gloomy understanding. It was obviously going to be a long night. “You might as well get some sleep.”

  “I’m not going to sleep,” Kako said, surprised. “You’d be over the wall and away before we could get up tomorrow. I’ve already had to re-tie your hands three times while you were unconscious.”

  There didn’t seem to be much to say to that, especially since the information made Rafiq realise that the muscles in his shoulders were tight, his wrists straining against whatever it was Kako had tied them with.

  “What did you tie me with?”

  “There wasn’t much to work with,” said Kako, with her one-shouldered shrug. “You have two of my handkerchiefs around your wrists, and the prince used a few of his sashes around your waist and shoulders.”

  Rafiq found himself grinning. “Resourceful of you.”

  “He’s not very happy about it, by the way. Apparently all his sashes have a meaning and none of them are to be used lightly. He explained them all to me but I got bored and stopped listening.”

  “When do you get bored and stop listening to me?” asked Rafiq curiously.

  “You don’t say enough to get boring,” Kako said. “And quite honestly, you’re more inclined to be horribly startling than boring.”

  Rafiq tried not to look as pleased as that made him feel. He said: “You’re more inclined to lie to me than you are to tell the truth, so I suppose we’re even.”

  “Oh!” said Kako, looking hurt. Her dragon aura had vanished completely and it was hard to tell if she was really hurt or not. Rafiq had just come to the conclusion that she really was, and that he ought to apologise, when she began to laugh.

  “Your straight face is wonderful!” she said. “All right, let’s play a game. I’ll answer a question truthfully for every question that you answer truthfully. Neither of us will get any sleep tonight, after all: we may as well entertain ourselves.”

  “How will I be able to tell if you’re lying?” said Rafiq cautiously.

  Kako shrugged.

  “You don’t seem to have much trouble reading me,” she said. “Guess!”

  “All right,” Rafiq said. “But I get to ask the first question.”

  “Fine,” Kako said. “But if I find you too close of a questioner, I’ll dissolve into tears. Just a friendly warning.”

  Rafiq, distracted by the thought that he hadn’t yet seen Kako cry despite the roughness with which Prince Akish had attacked her, and Rafiq’s own violence toward her, said: “Did you cry when you got those scars?”

  “I cried for one of them,” said Kako. “My turn.”

  “No!” said Rafiq, startled. “That wasn’t my question!”

  “Too late now,” Kako said. “You asked, I answered. My turn!”

  Rafiq eyed her broodingly. “You tricked me. You distracted me just as I was about to ask my question.”

  “How did you become chattel of Prince Akish?” sh
e asked, acknowledging his accusation with a narrowing of her eyes in amusement. “I mean, Illisr is magically inclined and always up to date with the latest spells, but your Binding is something else entirely. I’ve never seen anything half so strong.”

  Rafiq’s head jerked up. “What do you mean, see?”

  “This is my question,” Kako objected. “I answered yours. Where did he get such a spell?”

  “That’s two questions,” said Rafiq. “You’ll have to answer two questions if I answer them both.”

  Kako’s brown eyes widened. “Finagler! All right then, I will: but you first.”

  “Akish had the spell from his father: I was given to him for his sixteenth birthday. His father captured me when I was a young drake, with a spell so sharp and strong I couldn’t fight it. Of the spell itself I know little: the prince always said it was fae magic, but it doesn’t feel like it. Strong and foreign, yes: fae, no.”

  “Very strong,” said Kako absently. She was teasing one of the tattered ends of her neck-scarf between her fingers, making a longer tail-end of frayed silk.

  Rafiq was hit with a sense of alienness and familiarity all at once. Kako’s dragon form had the same slit eyes that looked quietly and a little slyly on the world, giving away very little; but her human form in all its strangely pleasant alienness still made the hairs rise at the nape of his neck.

  “I only once heard the king speak of the spell directly,” he said, hunching his shoulders slightly to curb the feeling. “It was when he gave me to Akish. He said the spell was a burden not to be taken lightly, and that many protections were bound up in it.”

  Kako’s eyelashes dropped over her eyes as she looked down at the scarf she was playing with. Rafiq was certain he hadn’t imagined the sudden glow to them, but when she looked up again her face was bland.

  “Did the king mention where he got it?”

  “That’s another question,” said Rafiq, with the suspicion of fire and smoke in his voice.

  “So it is,” said Kako. She sounded surprised. “How badly behaved of me! What would you like to ask me?”