Arrow (Knife)

by Anderson, R. J.

  ‘Well, if it’s a choice between giving your name to someone you think is trustworthy, or having it taken away by someone who definitely isn’t…’

  ‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘But to let anybody have that much power over you – it’s huge, Timothy. It’s terrifying. You have no idea what it’s like.’

  ‘To put yourself at somebody else’s mercy?’ said Timothy. ‘You’re right. I don’t know. But maybe…some things are worth the risk.’ And with that he crooked a finger under her chin, and brushed his lips against hers.

  It was only the briefest touch, but the shock of it rippled through Rhosmari’s whole body. Her breath caught, and her eyes opened wide.

  ‘I know it’s not the same thing,’ Timothy said as he drew back, sounding a little gruff with embarrassment. ‘I’m not arrogant enough to think that. I just wanted you to know that if anything happened to you… it would matter to me, too.’

  In the dusky light of her glow-spell his face looked uncertain, and achingly young. There was no trace of the bravado with which he had faced the Elders, or the recklessness that had made him leap up the stairs to confront Martin and risk the Empress for her sake. And yet, as she gazed at Timothy, Rhosmari felt the knots of fear and mistrust that had bound her for so long loosen, and fall away.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’m ready.’

  ‘Really?’ He looked surprised, but also relieved. ‘Well, OK then. I’ll come back to the Oak with you, and we’ll find you someone—’

  ‘No,’ she told him. ‘I have what I need right here.’

  Then she slipped her arms around Timothy’s neck and turned her face up to his, and in the breath before she kissed him, she whispered her name.

  A few minutes later Rhosmari walked down the slope towards the meadow, alone and unarmed, with Timothy’s parting kiss still warm on her lips. In the garden behind her, faint but clear, she could hear Rob giving out his last-minute orders. ‘Llinos, you and the other Children of Rhys form a ring around the Oak. Don’t let anyone through. Rebels and Oakenfolk, you’re with me…’

  She wished she could tell them not to worry, that there would be no more need for fighting. But if they guessed what she was doing they would try to stop her, and she and Timothy had agreed that no one must know of their plan until it had a chance to work. With a flutter of her wings and a quick prayer for courage, Rhosmari leaped to the bottom of the slope, and began hurrying through the long grass towards the enemy camp.

  She had crossed the little brook that wound between the Oak and the wood, and was almost in the shadow of the trees, when the air congealed around her, trapping her like a butterfly under glass. Helpless, she could only watch as the Empress’s faeries came out of hiding to see who had dared to break the truce. At her small size they loomed over her like malevolent giants, and her stomach clenched at the gleam of their bared teeth, their hungry eyes.

  ‘I am Rhosmari daughter of Celyn,’ she told them, with all the confidence she could muster. ‘And I have come to make a bargain with the Empress.’

  ‘How brave you are,’ said the Empress, spinning herself out of shadows and moonlight and walking to meet her. With a wave of one hand she dispelled the ward that held Rhosmari prisoner, and waited until she had grown to full height before continuing, ‘I am glad to see that someone in the Oak has some initiative. Although it is a pity you did not come to me earlier, before so many lives were lost. How you must blame yourself now.’

  Rhosmari’s heart was pounding and her muscles felt like jelly, but she forced herself to look the Empress in the eye. ‘You offered to pardon the rebels if they laid down their weapons and handed me over,’ she said. ‘They are not ready to surrender to you yet, but I am. So I am asking you to stop fighting, and withdraw – and in return, I will stay with you as long as you have need of me, and show you the way to the Green Isles.’

  ‘Of your own free will?’ asked the Empress with an arch of her brows. ‘What a generous offer. I wish I could trust you to keep your word…but I think we both know better than that.’ She reached for the dagger at her belt, but Rhosmari backed away.

  ‘Not until you promise to withdraw,’ she said. ‘Unless you intend to show all of your followers that you cannot be trusted to keep your word, either.’

  Jasmine’s lips pursed, and a cold glint came into her eye. But then she said, ‘Very well. It is a bargain. Now give me your hand.’

  Fear dug its claws into Rhosmari’s spine. This was the moment she and Timothy had been waiting for, when their plan would be put to the test. ‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ she said, and turned her palm up towards the Empress.

  The dagger bit into her thumb, drawing out a gleaming pearl of blood. Jasmine tipped the point of the knife delicately towards her tongue, licked it clean, swallowed…and smiled.

  ‘What a lovely name,’ she said. ‘And what a shame you did not take better care of it. Now kneel and kiss my feet.’

  Rhosmari had known she would have to do whatever the Empress told her, to give at least the appearance of being controlled. For that much humiliation at least, she had prepared herself. But when her body moved of its own accord, knees folding as her head lowered towards Jasmine’s booted toe, nothing could shield her from the crushing weight of her own despair.

  She and Timothy had staked everything on the hope that a name given would be stronger than a name taken away. Now she knew they had been wrong, and that all the plans they had made were in vain. The Empress’s power over Rhosmari was as great as it had ever been, and she would leave the Oakenwyld not merely as Jasmine’s prisoner, but her helpless slave.

  And now that the Stone of Naming had been destroyed, she would be trapped that way forever.

  nineteen

  ‘We had a bargain,’ Bluebell insisted, as the Empress led them through the trees towards her camp. ‘You promised that if I brought you the Stone of Naming, you would make me Queen of the Oak—’

  ‘And so I shall,’ said the Empress. ‘In a few days’ time. But first we will go to the Green Isles, and collect the rest of my army.’

  Bluebell’s mouth twisted into an unhappy shape, but she must have known that it was folly to argue. With a little sniff she stepped back, and nearly bumped into Rhosmari.

  ‘Well,’ she said, drawing herself up and gathering her mud-stained skirts about her. ‘Look who’s here. Not feeling so clever now, I suppose?’

  Rhosmari ignored her, too weary and heartsick to answer. Even her hopes of getting a message to the Children of Rhys had proven fruitless, for the Empress had commanded Rhosmari to use magic only in her service. And now that she was sharing the same slow drain of energy that had weakened all the Empress’s other followers, it was an effort just to keep walking, let alone talk at the same time.

  ‘I imagine you had quite the time capturing Mallow again, after I let her out,’ Bluebell went on with a little laugh. ‘She was so angry! Especially after I told her that you were the one who made me report her to Valerian. I would never have done that on my own, you know.’

  Of course not. Unlike Martin or even Rhosmari herself, Bluebell had never learned how to act a part; her rejection of Mallow’s scheme to leave the Oak had been genuine, but so had her reluctance to see her former ally punished. Naturally the first thing Bluebell would have done after stealing the Stone from Garan was to set Mallow free…and if the commotion served to cover her own escape, so much the better.

  ‘We didn’t recapture her,’ said Rhosmari. ‘She got away.’

  Bluebell’s look of triumph faded. ‘But if she’s not in the Oak, and she’s not here – then where is she?’

  Rhosmari was about to reply, but the Empress gestured them to silence. A few paces ahead of them, the trees opened up into a clearing, where a host of faeries had gathered around a low-burning fire.

  ‘We have accomplished all that we came for,’ the Empress announced as she stepped in among them. ‘The Stone of Naming is destroyed, and Rhosmari is once more under my control. Tomorrow we fly for
the Green Isles…but for tonight, you may go and take your rest.’

  The branches above the clearing rustled, and in a rush of beating wings a hundred birds launched themselves into the sky. The remaining faeries retreated no less swiftly, until only the Empress and her lieutenants remained – including the Blackwings, Veronica, and, to Rhosmari’s distaste, Martin.

  ‘I have a special task for you,’ the Empress said to him, beckoning him over. ‘It will be your responsibility to see that Rhosmari never strays out of your sight. And to make that easier—’ She flicked her fingers, and Rhosmari winced as a spell like an invisible hook twisted deep in her chest. Martin grimaced as though he had felt it too, but in an instant he had recovered his cool poise again.

  ‘You think of everything, my Empress,’ he said. ‘Where do you want me to take her?’

  ‘You may follow me to the village, in a little while,’ she replied. ‘I am pleased with you, if not with Rhosmari, and I have prepared a comfortable place for all my loyal followers to stay tonight.’ She patted his face indulgently, then stepped past him to address the others.

  ‘We must reach the Green Isles by tomorrow night,’ she said. ‘The Children of Rhys should not be difficult to conquer, but the success of our plan depends on stealth and speed. Once we have passed through Gruffydd’s Way, it will be the task of Veronica and her soldiers to make our army invisible and soundless as we march. As soon as we reach the first household of Rhysians we will capture them, take their blood and add them to our ranks immediately; Corbin and Byrne will assist me in this. It is crucial that not a single one be allowed to escape and warn their neighbours, or communicate with their fellow Rhysians in any way.’

  Under any other circumstances, Rhosmari would have found it hard to believe that such a plan could work: there were so many things that could go wrong. But in this case she feared it would be all too successful. The Children of Rhys were capable of self-defence, but they had not been trained to face an organised assault. And they would expect any threat to come from the mainland, not from their very midst.

  ‘When we have taken over one island we will fly to the next,’ Jasmine continued, ‘our army growing with each conquest, until all twelve of the Green Isles are under my command. Then I will take up my throne in the Hall of Judgement, and our people will have a new homeland – a land of comfort and prosperity, from which we can never be displaced.’ The firelight flickered across her face, revealing flushed cheeks and eyes aglow with anticipation. ‘And to you, my lieutenants, who have chosen to serve me of your own will – you will each be rewarded with an island of your own to rule.’

  ‘And I shall be Queen of the Oak,’ breathed Bluebell, hugging her shawl about her.

  Rhosmari could not bear to listen any longer. She sank down onto a fallen log, and turned her face away.

  She must have drifted asleep, for when she opened her eyes again the fire had burned so low that only a few coals remained among the ashes, and the Empress was nowhere to be seen. Only Martin and Veronica stood together on the other side of the fire, conversing in low voices.

  ‘…must value you more than I thought,’ said Veronica. ‘You are very fortunate to have found your way back into her favour, Martin.’

  ‘But not, I take it, into yours?’ He spoke casually, untroubled by her scorn. ‘What must I do to persuade you of my worth, fair Veronica?’

  ‘I know your worth already,’ she said. ‘Very little. You care for nothing but your own amusement; you have no interest in the Empress’s ideals, or defending her empire—’

  ‘Neither do you,’ said Martin. ‘We both know that the Empress is old, and growing weaker by the day; she is feeding on her followers like a leech now, desperate to achieve total control over the faeries of Britain before she dies. What is so glorious about that?’ He made a contemptuous noise. ‘You pretend to loathe humans as much as she does, because you hope she will make you her heir. But do you think I hadn’t noticed that whenever you choose a human to prey upon, you always pick a good-looking boy, and steal his creativity with a kiss?’

  ‘Not always,’ Veronica retorted. ‘But that is besides the point. What you should know, Martin, is that I am watching you very closely. And at the first hint of treachery…’

  ‘Treachery!’ Martin laughed. ‘Why should I betray the Empress? Do you think the rebels love me any better than you do? If the Empress freed me this instant, there is only one company I would join, and it offers no threat to anyone.’

  ‘You mean that absurd little theatre in Cardiff?’ Now it was Veronica’s turn to sound amused. ‘How quaint. But I would not put much stock in that idea, if I were you. You may find that there is nothing worth going back to.’

  ‘And what do you mean by that?’ All humour was gone now; his words were sharp as dagger points.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Veronica, so quickly that Rhosmari could tell she had said more than she should, and was already regretting it. ‘I only mean that your loyalties belong here, with your own kind. And if you ever give the rest of us reason to believe you are forgetting that, then we will make it our business to remind you.’

  ‘Ah,’ Martin said. ‘Is that all. Well, you need have no fear on my account. I know my duty – and my limitations.’ His footsteps crunched towards Rhosmari, and his breath stirred her hair as he leaned over. ‘I know you are awake,’ he murmured. ‘Get up.’

  Rhosmari climbed to her feet, trying to ignore the crawling sensation that came over her at the touch of his hand. ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, as he led her to the centre of the clearing.

  ‘Up,’ said Martin. ‘What better way to travel?’ And with that he transformed into his bird shape and darted away, not even pausing to see if she would follow. But he had barely reached the treetops when agony wrenched at Rhosmari’s chest, as though there were a cord of nerves and flesh between them that had just reached its limit. With a gasp she transformed herself to Oakenfolk size, and flew after him.

  Martin led her up above the wood and over the fields and houses beyond, circling around her in an almost teasing fashion before swooping off again into the night. It took all Rhosmari’s strength to keep up with him, and by the time they reached the nearby town, her wing muscles felt as though they were on fire. They landed together on the drive of a tall brick house fronted by white pillars, and when Martin changed to human size and headed up the pathway, she did likewise.

  A middle-aged woman opened the door to them, looking as weary as Rhosmari felt, and showed them upstairs to a bedroom resplendent in gold and black brocade. At that point, Rhosmari had no energy left to care whose house it was, or what the Empress had done to commandeer it. She collapsed onto the mattress, dropped her head against the pillow, and sank into exhausted sleep.

  When Rhosmari woke again, it was morning. Her body felt rested, but her mind remained hazy, as though she were trapped in a nightmare. Even the sunlight that filtered through the blinds had a poisonous tinge to it, and the air tasted thick and cloying. And when she rolled onto her back she found a small black and white bird perched on the end of the bedpost, watching her.

  She sat up, drawing her knees protectively to her chest, as Martin dropped off the end of the bed and shook himself back into faery shape. ‘The Empress wants us to join her for breakfast,’ he said curtly. ‘Make yourself presentable.’

  He was angry now, though she could not guess why. He had worked his way back into the Empress’s favour, and she had promised him an island to rule. What more could he want?

  Breakfast was served by the woman who had opened the door to them the night before, with the help of a bearded man who Rhosmari guessed must be her husband. The food was the finest she had seen since Waverley Hall: scrambled eggs cooked to perfect fluffiness, served with thin slices of smoked salmon and flaky rolls rich with butter. The smell of it alone was enough to make her stomach groan with hunger.

  But as the humans moved about the table refilling the faeries’ glasses and bringing them fresh plates fo
r each course, the frustrated rage in the man’s eyes and the terror in the woman’s disturbed Rhosmari so much that she could not eat. It seemed like some twisted inversion of the hospitality Paul and Peri had shown her when she first came to the Oakenwyld, these humans’ brittle silence a macabre contrast to the laughter and conversation that had so surprised her that day. And when the woman’s hand trembled and a splash of orange juice fell onto the tablecloth, it was more than Rhosmari could bear. She stammered, ‘Please excuse me,’ and fled up the stairs to her room.

  Alone, she wrapped her arms around herself, stifling a sob. She had given Timothy her name, and now she knew – if there had ever been any doubt – that she had given him her heart as well. But love had not saved her, and it would not save him either. As soon as they returned from the Green Isles, the Empress would use the Children of Rhys to force the Oak to surrender. And then she would make good on her promise to kill Timothy, and likely Paul and Peri – if she was not dead already – as well…

  A hand clamped over her mouth. Out of nowhere, a harsh voice whispered, ‘Don’t scream. Or I’ll knock you silly.’

  Rhosmari’s eyes darted wildly in all directions. Hardly able to breathe, let alone speak, she went stiff as coral.

  ‘Good choice,’ said her invisible captor. ‘Now you listen. I’m taking you back to the Oak—’ Rhosmari made a strangled protest, and she stopped. ‘What do you mean, no?’

  Rhosmari gulped air as the other faery released her.

  ‘Mallow. I don’t know how you got in here, or what you think you’re doing—’

  ‘Followed you from the Oakenwyld, of course,’ retorted Mallow. ‘And sneaked in the door with you last night. I’d have nabbed you long before this, if it weren’t for that blighted Martin hanging about.’ She stepped back, feet noiseless on the plush carpet. ‘As for why I’m here, isn’t it obvious? It’s no secret I don’t think much of Valerian, but at least she doesn’t kill her own kind, or suck the magic out of them to make herself stronger. And I’ll be hanged before I let that treacherous little snake Bluebell rule the Oak, so…’ She seized Rhosmari’s wrist. ‘If I rescue you, that’s meat for my soup, and gristle in hers.’