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

by Gingell, W. R.

  It was at this point that Kako grabbed him by the ears and kissed him full on the mouth, startling an exclamation from Prince Akish and a slight, fiery choke from Rafiq.

  The young man neither accepted nor repulsed the embrace, and when Kako released him and stepped back, he merely continued to speak as though he’d never been interrupted.

  “–help us. Hawthorne Keep will hold for a few days, but we’ve not enough food to hold out for much longer and the Arphadians are desperately cunning.”

  Rafiq wasn’t entirely certain as to the reactions that human courtship was supposed to evoke, but he was rather certain that if Kako had been kissing him, his reaction would have been very different.

  She said: “See? The Keep didn’t program him for romance. He’s only programmed for interactions that are supposed to occur during the Story.”

  “Very well, I concede,” said the prince. “We’ll continue with the Story: no doubt if we rescue the people from their enemies it will send us through to the sixth Circle. The Keep is testing our courage.”

  An hour, one lengthy tour, and one short flight later, Rafiq had a very good idea of what was going on. The whole of Hawthorne Keep was one giant story construct into which the Enchanted Keep had deposited the three of them as somewhat dubious heroes, players in a game that seemed to hinge upon whether or not they could save Hawthorne Keep from the army at present encamped outside it.

  Or at least, he thought, frowning, that’s what Kako had suggested and the Prince seemed to believe. Knowing Kako a little better than he had in the beginning, he was highly suspicious of her helpfulness: moreover, he was just as mistrustful of the idea that the Enchanted Keep was testing their courage. The last Circle had tested something far more nebulous: that it was testing something so obvious as courage seemed unlikely.

  The prince, however, was right in his element, planning and strategizing with the inmates of Hawthorne Keep. Rafiq, after reporting back from his flight to survey the Arphadians—a curiously spiky race of humanoid creatures that surrounded the keep like so many ants around a sugar lump—sat on one of the copied couches with Kako and watched Akish giving orders.

  “He’s very good at this, isn’t he?” Kako said, in a congratulatory tone of voice. “Knows exactly what he’s doing, how to use a fortress to the best advantage– I’m learning an awful lot.”

  Rafiq gazed down at her for long enough to make her eyes narrow slightly with amusement.

  “What? You’re not going to say I’m lying again, are you? I’m not.”

  “No,” he said. “But you’re like a fledgling in the sun, warm and complacent.”

  “Oh, you think I’m up to something!”

  “No. I think finishing the story triumphant isn’t what will take us to the next Circle.”

  Kako thought for a moment, and then said: “That depends on what you mean by triumphant.”

  “Is it what Akish would think of as triumphant?”

  “I doubt it,” she said, and offered him the plate of fruit she had been steadily decimating. If there was one thing Rafiq appreciated about this Circle, it was the sheer abundance, realness, and non-Faery quality of the food to be had. Even fresh fruit, which he would have scorned in his dragon form, was delightful to his human body.

  “It’s fun to watch him try, though, isn’t it?”

  And it was fun to watch him try. It was also convenient, since when Akish joined in war-talks he tended to talk through the night and forget everything else, including Rafiq.

  Rafiq left the room once the candles began to gutter and the fire was low, in search of warmth and perhaps a bed. A helpful servant was nearby to show him back to the common-room they’d arrived in that morning, and he was ushered through one of the doors around the room. It proved to be a spacious bedroom with its own fire, smaller than the one in the common-room but just as cheerful: no doubt Kako had been given one of the others that led from the common-room.

  That was, Rafiq thought, if she was still in Hawthorne Keep. Kako had slipped away from the war-talks earlier than he had, and she had stayed with him all last night when her family was expecting her back. She was probably already in that warm, pleasant library talking secrets with Dai and Zen. He tried to ignore the flat edge of disappointment that pressed down on him at the thought and stretched out rather listlessly on the beautifully made bed. After all, what exactly had he expected? That she would come to fetch him?

  He might have lain there all night feeling sorry for himself if the door to his room hadn’t snicked softly open an hour or so after he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to sleep.

  Rafiq knew her footsteps, light and quick, and found himself smiling.

  “I know you’re awake,” Kako said, bouncing down on his unused pillows. “Are you coming?”

  “That depends,” said Rafiq, rolling to face her. “Will there be more food?”

  It was harder to get into the library that night. It was almost as though something was dragging at Rafiq’s limbs as he walked; but it wasn’t until they reached the library and Kako said: “What on earth have you done to my entrance?” that he knew it hadn’t just been his imagination.

  “Oh, that,” said Dai. “That’s because of all the fae who’ve sneaked in lately.”

  “Fae in the c– house? Why haven’t I heard about it? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Dai looked slightly guilty. “Akira didn’t want to worry you. She said you were already busy trying to find a way to stop the fae.”

  “I was,” said Kako, with a sideways look at Rafiq. “Then a prince and his murderous dragon attacked me. I was distracted.”

  “I didn’t want to kill you,” said Rafiq stiffly. “I had no choice. I don’t make a habit of murdering females.”

  “You’ve hurt his feelings, now,” Zen said. He was stretched out on his back on the couch closest to the fireplace, his ankles crossed and his nose ostensibly in a book.

  Much to Rafiq’s surprise, there was a flicker of amusement in the boy’s eyes. That made him look more narrowly at Kako; and having looked, to realise that she was laughing at him.

  “I’ll be scarred for the rest of my life,” Kak said sadly, but he wasn’t fooled this time.

  “I didn’t get a very long look at the scar,” he said. “How can I be sure I was the one who inflicted it? Show me again.”

  “Kako!” said three scandalised voices together. As Rafiq softly closed the gap between himself and Kako, Suki’s voice won out to say in a squeak: “Has he seen your neck? Kako, you’ll have to marry him now!”

  “No, I won’t!” spluttered Kako, slapping Rafiq’s hands away from her scarf. “He didn’t know it was against custom. Stop it, Rafiq! You’re corrupting young minds!”

  “I don’t mind,” said Dai, ignoring Zen’s mutter of: “Of course you don’t!”

  Miyoko said, indignantly: “Raf has to marry me, not Kako!”

  “This is beside the point,” Kako said firmly: “Look, I closed the tear. How are the fae getting into Shinpo, let alone in here?”

  “Some of ‘em are coming through Llassar, some through Illisr,” said Dai. “And dad thinks that some of ‘em are coming through new Doors right here in Shinpo.”

  “I thought I had more time,” said Kako ruefully. “Zen, did you do what I needed?”

  “That? Oh yes, that was easy.”

  “What was easy?” demanded Rafiq. As disappointing as it was that his previous gambit had been overturned, the conversation had become distinctly interesting.

  Zen looked torn: he’d obviously done something he was quite proud of despite his dismissive attitude, and he looked as though he would very much like to share his cleverness. At last, however, he said: “Oh, nothing in particular.”

  “Sit down and have a cup of tea,” said Dai. “Later on we’ll talk about that thing you wanted me to look at. You’re going to like what I discovered.”

  Since it was obvious that they weren’t going to discuss whatever it was they were so jubilantly h
inting about in front of him, Rafiq heeded the small tuggings of Miyoko upon his cuffs, and allowed himself to be pulled to the opposite end of the room.

  “Sit,” said Miyoko, pointing at the hearth. Rafiq, much amused, sat. She sat down opposite him with her legs crossed and her stomach poking out, and looked expectantly at him.

  Rafiq said: “What?”

  “Burn it,” Miyoko said, as if to an imbecile, and he saw that she’d heaped dustbunnies and twists of paper in the otherwise empty hearth.

  “No,” said Rafiq.

  Miyoko whined: “But Rafiq...”

  “Kako will scold me.”

  She regarded him for a silent moment, then said with great craftiness: “Kako won’t scold. Dragons are supposed to burn.”

  “I’m not a dragon. I’m a man.”

  “Oh,” she said sorrowfully. And then, more cheerfully: “Matches? Magic?”

  “No,” said Rafiq, his eyes on Kako. Dai had very carefully passed her something that was wrapped in a handkerchief, and Kako’s eyes were shining with more animation than he’d ever seen from her. “Why is Kako happy?”

  “Presents,” said Miyoko, shrugging. “Kako likes presents.”

  Kako had brought something with her last time she visited her family. Something from the Keep, wondered Rafiq, or something she got from elsewhere– Prince Akish, for instance? If so, why? What could Akish have that was worth stealing to Kako? And when had she done it?

  He thought about it until she put the folded handkerchief in her pocket, and until Dai left the room, looking pleased. Then he trod lightly up behind Kako and said in her ear: “It was a very good performance. I thought the faint was real.”

  Kako jumped and made a stifled noise, which made him grin.

  “The faint was real,” she said, when her breathing became even again. “He was crushing my windpipe. Very uncomfortable.”

  “Then why needle him into attacking you?”

  “I needed to get him a lot closer than he’d normally allow himself to be to a maid,” Kako said, surprising him by being absolutely honest. “I can’t pick pockets from a distance. Are you choking? You’d better sit down.”

  “So you did pick his pocket!”

  “Yes. You really should sit down. You look a little strange.”

  Rafiq laughed aloud and sat down. He’d thought when he met Kako as a dragon that she was as deadly as she was small. It was surprising to realise that Kako in her human form was even more deadly than Kako in her dragon form.

  “What did you take from him?”

  “Something that wasn’t his. It’s not mine either, but it’s probably safer with me until the proper owner comes for it.”

  “You’re not going to tell me.”

  He thought that Kako looked regretful. “No. Sorry.”

  “You’re not supposed to tell him you’re hiding things from him,” said Dai, returning to the room. Behind her was a short, pleasant-faced woman with an elaborately coiffed head of hair but no head-dress or neck scarf.

  Kako’s mother, Rafiq realised, with a stab of dismay. He leapt to his feet as Kako rose gladly to embrace the woman.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” she said remorsefully.

  “You didn’t, my little clever one,” said the woman, hugging her tightly. “The day is done and we’ve all gone home.”

  Dai said: “I thought I was your little clever one!”

  “You’re my slightly smaller clever one,” said Kako’s mother. “Am I to be introduced to the dragon, my dears?”

  “Mother, this is Rafiq,” Kako said. “Rafiq, this is my mother.”

  Rafiq found himself bowing, which was something of a surprise. It was polite to bow to a woman, of course; but he’d worked with Akish long enough to know not to bow to servants.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Kako’s mother, inclining her head in return. “We were expecting you last night, you know.”

  “We had a bit of trouble with some fae water,” said Kako. “Rafiq was trying to climb over a wall into Faery and I had to tie him up.”

  “She tied me to a chair once,” said Dai. “What’d she tie you to?”

  “A tree,” said Rafiq. “Why did she tie you up?”

  “Fae plum. We were experimenting. Fae things pack a bit of a wallop, don’t they?”

  “Yes,” Rafiq said briefly.

  “Children, why don’t you talk amongst yourselves,” said Kako’s mother. “Rafiq and I wish to speak together for a moment.”

  Kako, looking rather startled, said: “Mama–!”

  “I have some questions for him,” said the lady, and though her voice was as pleasant as ever, Kako melted into the group of siblings without another word. It surprised and rather worried Rafiq, who watched her go with a feeling akin to abandonment.

  Dai allowed herself to be subsumed by the group as well, twitching a rueful and sympathetic brow at him, and Rafiq was left to the gentle smile of their mother.

  Hawthorne Keep became abruptly more serious the next day, when Rafiq made his first airborne attack under Akish’s orders. Neither had quite acknowledged the fact, but Rafiq thought they must have both expected the weapons of the spiky humanoids below to be as unreal as the Constructed story. When Rafiq swept low and swift over the army to lay down a blistering stream of fire, such a hail of arrows and spears hissed at him that he banked automatically: and in so doing possibly saved his own life. As it was, one of the spears tore through his right wing, slitting the stretched skin there and tossing him into a dangerous sideslip that ended heavily and painfully on the tower from which he’d begun.

  Kako, who had somehow managed to be one of the tower party, darted around the other humans and ducked beneath Rafiq’s awkwardly stiff wing to run her hands over the tear. He felt the snarl of pain rising through his stomach, mixed with fire, and fought back the urge to snap at her.

  “It’s not too dreadful,” she said. “But you should change to human again. Trust me. It’ll help.”

  Akish said: “Hmm. I did not expect their weapons to hurt us. Nor did I expect them to be immune to your dragonfire: not a one of them dropped! Wench, what is the meaning of this?”

  For once, Kako seemed to be entirely taken aback. “I didn’t– I wasn’t– I don’t know. I really don’t know. I didn’t expect this at all.”

  Rafiq changed slowly and painfully until he was somewhat familiarly human again, and said: “Taking your revenge, were you?”

  “Don’t be a baby,” said Kako, though her face was still pale. “You’re not even injured anymore.”

  Rafiq looked incredulously down at his arm, and instead of a bloody gash he saw a new scar. His eyes met Kako’s, his mouth working to form the right words; words that wouldn’t inadvertently betray her to Akish.

  At last, he simply said: “How?”

  Kako shrugged her shoulder. “I don’t know for sure. My theory is that the physical change from dragon to human rewrites the whole of your body every time.”

  “Why the scar, then?” asked Rafiq, unconsciously flexing the muscle.

  “I don’t know that for sure, either. I think it’s because the magic doesn’t know exactly what to do with it. It’s like a grain of grit in the workings: it doesn’t stop the workings, but it makes them move just a little jerkily. The scar is a flaw in the construct.”

  “We’ll have to change our plans,” said Akish, without heeding either Rafiq or Kako. “A close aerial assault is obviously out of the question. If this constructed environment allows us to be injured or killed, all my assumptions will have to be reassessed. Back to the war room!”

  He made for the tower stairs in an energetic swirl of cloak and sword, followed by an eager trail of armoured men and women.

  Kako, closely observing the new scar on Rafiq’s arm, said: “Do you think he wants us down there too?”

  “Probably,” said Rafiq. He was disinclined to move. The sunshine was pleasantly warm, Kako’s curious fingers were not unpleasantly running
over his new scar, and he had never felt either more human, or more content to be so.

  A warm summer breeze picked up, wafting over the turrets and confusing Rafiq with its sense of oddity until he realised why it was so alien.

  “There’s no smell here,” he said.

  “Yes, I noticed that,” murmured Kako, prodding at his scar. “It’s a bit off-putting, isn’t it? I don’t think the Keep knows about scent. Rafiq?”

  “Mmm?”

  “What did my mother ask you yesterday?”

  Too late, Rafiq found that he’d stiffened. No use pretending now that Kako’s mother had simply wished to become better acquainted with him.

  “She asked me what I’d do once you broke my Thrall to the Illisrian Crown.”

  The question had taken him by surprise at the time, and he had answered with the absolute truth: he would stay at the Enchanted Keep with Kako, of course. As the thought blossomed, it had seemed natural. Both Kako and the princess would benefit from the addition of another dragon, and it had occurred to Rafiq at much the same time that he would also benefit from the addition of another dragon. From there, perhaps it would be possible to convince Kako of the benefits of having another human in the Keep, too.

  Kako’s eyes were very wide: whatever she’d expected him to say, it hadn’t been that.

  “Really?”

  “Mmm. She said you had some ideas about how to do it.”

  She had also, very gently and in no uncertain terms, made Rafiq aware that Kako’s family could and would slowly take him apart piece by quivering piece if he so much as looked at her in the wrong way. Since relating that particular part of the conversation would have taken this conversation in a way that Rafiq wasn’t yet prepared for it to go, he thought it best not to mention it.

  Thus, when Kako looked enquiringly at him and demanded: “What else?” he merely shrugged.

  Her eyes narrowed very slightly, but she seemed to accept that. She tipped her head toward the tower stairs and asked: “Is he likely to come up with a good plan?”

  Rafiq considered this. With Akish involved, the merit or otherwise of the plan would depend entirely upon who you happened to be and how important the prince believed you to be. For Akish, the plan would undoubtedly turn out to be good: the prince had a way of looking after himself that was tantamount to genius. For Rafiq, it was also likely to turn out well, but not absolutely guaranteed: Akish was unlikely to want to see him dead or injured, but if it was a choice between himself or Rafiq, Rafiq knew who would come out safely. When it came to Kako, things were very much shakier.