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

by Gingell, W. R.

  “It wasn’t exactly held in there,” Kako said, reaching into one all-but-invisible pocket in her pink silk trousers. “It’s more that the sword piece has a specific kind of enchantment laid upon it, and the king was able to twist it a bit to make your Thrall. I untwisted it.”

  She passed him the small piece of metal carefully; almost reverently. Rafiq took it just as carefully, and hissed between his teeth.

  “It’s part of a Faery blade!”

  “Yes,” she said. “But the enchantment on it– it’s not Fae.”

  “No,” said Rafiq. “It’s not. I’ve heard stories of a blade once whole and then broken.”

  “What stories?” demanded Kako. “I think this piece of sword can help us get rid of the fae who’ve migrated here.”

  Rafiq turned it in his fingers, a smile playing on his lips. It was almost tangibly delicious to know something that Kako, pert little thing that she was, didn’t know.

  “I’m certain it can,” he said. He slipped the shard into his own pocket, ignoring Kako’s wrathful look, and added: “Since we’re here, we may as well rescue the princess.”

  “She doesn’t need rescuing,” Kako said, her cheeks dusky with annoyance. “She came here specifically to get away from that kind of thing. She’s been trying to find a way to get rid of the Fae and close the doors to Faery, and she couldn’t do that while suitors were calling.”

  “She ran away from suitors?”

  “There were a lot of them! And they would keep calling in the mornings, when she was trying to work on her theories and searching through the library. She couldn’t even travel to visit libraries in other countries without people thinking that a match between Shinpo and them would be a rather good idea.”

  “Beautiful, is she?” asked Rafiq, really looking around the room for the first time. It was a surprisingly small one, tiled with the same red tiles that Rafiq had come to expect of the Keep proper, but here the walls and the ceiling were also the same shade of vermillion. The effect, after the seventh Circle, was reminiscent of blood covering and subsuming the whole room.

  “Not really,” muttered Kako. “But Shinpo has a lot of nobles, and it’s a good match for any of their young men. Not to mention that she’s third to the throne, so the surrounding kingdoms don’t find it a bad match, either. And then there are princes like Akish, who think it’s useful to have a Shinpoan princess in their power.”

  “We’ve come all this way,” said Rafiq, unwilling to be swayed. The princess would be the one possible obstacle to his staying at the Keep, and he would rather have that obstacle out of the way as quickly as possible. “I’d like to see her. You said she’s usually under enchanted sleep anyway, didn’t you?”

  “Not exactly,” said Kako, moving with him as he walked toward the only door in the room. She was tugging on his arm ineffectively; almost amusingly. “Rafiq!”

  But he had already opened the door, impelled by his sense of curiosity as much as by his sense of mischief. He found himself in a large suite, its gently curving walls formed from the tower’s outer walls: this, then was the highest room of the tower.

  There were two heavily veiled sections—the powder-room and the bathing-room, Rafiq guessed—and one large canopied bed that should have been occupied.

  It wasn’t. And as he stepped further into the suite, his eyes sweeping over the room, the cobwebby disuse of it began to sink in. As magnificent as everything was, it was a decayed magnificence. There was deep, oily dust on all the furniture: it hadn’t been dusted in months, perhaps years. The rich veiling, seen closer to, proved to be full of moths and trailing threads. With each step that Rafiq took he made a footprint on the mildewy tiles and rugs alike.

  “It’s not a very comfortable room,” said Kako, with a sigh. When it became evident that she couldn’t stop him, she’d ceased to try, and had sat down glumly on a dusty wooden chair instead. “The wind shakes it so loudly that you can’t sleep, and the fire either roars so high it’s abominably hot, or dies away and leaves you to freeze. Besides, some of the challengers were bright enough to try to scale the tower from the outside. It wasn’t safe.”

  Rafiq only half heard her. He was remembering something Kako had said many days ago. She had said that the princess was kept under enchanted sleep while the dragon was out of the Keep. Akish had assumed that this was because the dragon didn’t want her to escape, and Rafiq, who didn’t at that stage know that Kako was herself the dragon, had found it a reasonable assumption.

  Now, however, he did know it. His eyes dwelt thoughtfully and a little amusedly on Kako, who was looking at the floor. What was it that Zen had said, later on? Kako had immediately silenced him, but during the game in the fourth Circle she had admitted that when she turned dragon, she kept her human form. That form, she had said, remained in a deep sleep while her consciousness inhabited the form of a dragon.

  The princess slept while the dragon was active because the princess was the dragon.

  Rafiq, slightly stunned, said: “You’re the princess! You’re the princess!”

  “Oh, well done!” Kako said, irritably sarcastic.

  “But I met your mother! Your sisters and your brother!”

  “Yes. Queen Shiori of Shinpo to almost everyone else. Oh, and Crown Princess Akira, second Princess Suki, Princess Dai, Prince Zen and little Princess Mee. I think the only one you didn’t meet was my father. He’s the king-consort, in case it wasn’t obvious to you.”

  “Then why did you–” Rafiq stopped the bewildered thought where it started, and began to laugh. It was obvious why she had pretended to be the princess’ maid. How else could she fend off would-be suitors? Much easier to go along with the men that made it past the first Circle, and sabotage them where she could.

  “Exactly,” said Kako. She was watching him again. “I’d appreciate it if you don’t spread it about.”

  “Who would I spread it to? Does the Keep get so many visitors?”

  “No, barely any. Wait, what do you mean by that?”

  “I like it here,” said Rafiq. “And as a dragon I’m faster, stronger, and deadlier than you.”

  “Well, there’s no need to be smug about–”

  “I want to stay here.”

  “Why didn’t you say so right away?” Kako demanded. She sounded slightly miffed. “There are dozens of free rooms, and I’m sure if you’re polite enough about it the Keep will arrange a dragon-sized one for you with access to the open air.”

  Rafiq, his heart glad, said: “You don’t mind?”

  “Mind? Why should I? You’re pretty easy to live with, after all. Besides I want to know about the sword.”

  “I see.” Rafiq, struggling between disappointment and amusement, said: “I’m to be useful to you.”

  “Oh, well, I’ve gotten used to you already,” said Kako, shrugging. “I’d rather have you here than anyone else.”

  All things considered, thought Rafiq, his smile a little less rueful, that wasn’t so bad of a place to start.

  “Where do you live in this bewildering old heap?”

  “Usually downstairs,” Kako said, springing lightly from her chair. She was significantly more cheerful than she had been earlier. “Though when there are no challengers I keep the passage open between here and home–”

  “The palace.”

  “–yes, the palace. Then we can come and go as we please. I always sleep here, though.”

  Rafiq, thinking of tiny Miyoko walking the halls alone, said: “You let that little scrap wander the halls here?”

  “Oh yes, the Keep loves her! Almost as much as it loves me, as a matter of fact.”

  “Me, on the other hand,” said Dai’s voice from the doorway; “It positively loathes!”

  “You shouldn’t have tried to force it to make new rooms in winter, then,” said Kako. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just making sure you’re not dead,” said Dai, smiling somewhat maliciously. “We all are.”

  “All?”

>   “We’re all here,” said Zen, ducking beneath her arm. “Even Father is here. You’re in a lot of trouble, young lady.”

  “But–”

  “Akira isn’t here,” Dai contradicted. “She’s still in a state meeting.”

  Zen, with a likewise gleeful malice, added: “A state meeting that Mother ran away from when the passage disappeared, by the way.”

  “By the way,” echoed Miyoko, kicking at Dai’s legs to make room for herself.

  “It disappeared?” Kako’s eyes found Rafiq’s: she looked surprised and very slightly uneasy. “It shouldn’t have done that!”

  “That’s what we thought,” said a familiar voice from the door.

  Dai immediately vacated the doorway, as did the other two, and Rafiq was left to wonder how he could ever have thought that Kako’s mother was a servant. She was entirely regal. Even if she hadn’t been wearing the royal seal in her head-dress, she would have been obvious as royalty today.

  “My dear little clever one, you could have found it in your heart to come over and tell us you were safe,” she said. She said it in a kindly—even a gentle—voice, but Kako went pink.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know the seventh Circle would make the passage disappear.”

  “What happened?” asked a deeper male voice.

  Kako’s father, Rafiq thought. The man’s eyes were on him, thoughtful and faintly challenging. If those eyes didn’t have ingrained lines of good humoured amusement beside them, Rafiq might even have thought them hard. Nor was he native-born Shinpoan—so that was where Zen had inherited his eyes—though he spoke Shinpoan like a native.

  Kako, who hadn’t noticed anything amiss, said: “We entered the seventh Circle. I’ve got an idea that the Keep did something very big while we were in there, because it wasn’t Constructs and copies of ourselves this time.”

  “I died,” said Rafiq. He was becoming rapidly more certain that it was the truth.

  “Me too,” Kako said, her mouth quirking in an involuntary grimace. “I think the Keep might have created several alternate timelines. That would take enough of its power to drain all the non-essential magics around the place.”

  “We should be able to prove or disprove that,” said Kako’s father. He had forgotten Rafiq in his interest. “It’s far more likely that it’s a simple case of timeline manipulation, though. What other non-essentials were drained?”

  “I haven’t checked yet,” said Kako. “And it can’t be manipulation, because–”

  “Don’t let them start talking, mother!” said Suki in despair. “They’ll never stop!”

  Rafiq found himself grinning. Nobody seemed to pay any attention to Suki’s plea: Kako and her father continued to argue back and forth about the relative merits of timeline manipulation and alternate timelines. Dai and Zen, who were both listening intently, occasionally interposed a question or comment. To Rafiq, it sounded like the same thing with a different name.

  Queen Shiori, who must have been used to the babble of almost incomprehensible debate in the background of her days, smiled at Rafiq and said: “I’m glad you came through safely, my dear.”

  Why was it, wondered Rafiq, that the queen always made him feel like a fledgling before its tutor? Not quite grown up and slightly gawky.

  He said: “So am I, your majesty.”

  “I’ve been drawing up citizenship papers for you. Do you still intend to remain here?”

  “Yes, your majesty.”

  “Well, we might have to go away for a little bit in a year or two,” said Kako, suddenly attentive. “Rafiq knows something about a magical artefact that might be very useful in chasing out the Fae. I just need to do some experiments on the bit I have, first.”

  “We’ll talk about that in a year or two,” said Queen Shiori, her eyes flicking from Kako to Rafiq. “Now that I’m assured you’re safe, my little clever one, I think I really must return to my meeting. My darling, will you walk with me?”

  She was addressing her husband, asking a question that Rafiq knew very well wasn’t the one spoken. He saw the brief passage of silent communication that passed between the two of them, and then Kako’s father nodded.

  “How could I resist?” he said. There was a smile in his voice, but it was less pronounced when he said to Rafiq in passing: “We’ll talk later, I think.”

  Rafiq nodded silently, very aware of the curious eyes of Dai, Zen, and above all, Kako.

  “And Mee has lessons,” said Suki firmly. “So does Zen.”

  Zen grumbled beneath his breath, but allowed himself to be shooed away to the door. “Wait for me before you start working on the shard,” he said beseechingly.

  Dai, catching the pointed look that Suki sent her, said: “Don’t even think about it, Suki! My tutor doesn’t want to see me again until he’s had a chance to see if he can prove me wrong about time-release mechanics in preservative spells.”

  Suki cast a look of weary long-suffering up at the ceiling and towed Zen and Miyoko away.

  Dai collapsed languidly into one of the chairs and said: “Ugh! What a nasty little room this is.”

  “I know,” said Kako, not at all offended. “Why do you think I don’t live here?”

  “Well, why not fit it out for Rafiq? Open out a few of the windows and turn the dressing room into a flight-run?”

  “Now there’s a thought,” Kako said. To Rafiq, she said: “So Mother has been drawing up papers of citizenship for you! She seems quite pleased that you’ll be here with me, actually.”

  “Well, you’re a sort-of dragon and he’s a sort-of human,” said Dai, shrugging. “It’s a good match.”

  “Match?” Kako looked startled and a little confused.

  Rafiq’s eyes sought Dai’s in silent pleading. She was looking sarcastic and more than slightly malicious, but after a moment her eyes dropped.

  She said: “Well, if you have to have someone in the Keep with you, he’s a good choice. He’ll be able to keep up with you, at any rate.”

  Kako laughed suddenly. “Oh, there’s no doubt about that! What do you think, Rafiq? Do you think you’d like to live up here?”

  Up or down didn’t matter, of course. So long as the Keep housed Kako, Rafiq would make his bed in the smallest and dankest of its rooms. But this room at the top of the tower– this room had enough space for a much larger dragon than Rafiq. Or perhaps, in time, two dragons.

  “This will be just right,” he said.