by Kate Gragg
“He wouldn’t hurt them, would he?” I said to Lydia.
Lydia shrugged. “You can’t exactly say he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
We didn’t have time to check, so we pressed on. It wasn’t long before we heard more clanking and saw a tiny bright-red head bobbing above a field of reeds.
“Wart?” I called out.
“Present,” he wheezed.
Lydia ran up to him and parted the grasses so we could see him better. Wart was wearing a massive armored chest plate, too big even for me to wear comfortably. It hung down nearly to his knees.
“Goodness, Wart! The chest plate of strength? Is that what you got from the cave?” Lydia said.
“How do you know about the cave, miss?” Wart said, squinting at her. “It’s supposed to be only for knights.”
“I’ve lived on this island for a long time,” Lydia said. “Can’t you take that silly thing off? You’ll hurt yourself.”
“No way,” Wart said, shaking his carrot-colored head. “I won it. I’m a knight.”
“And nobody can tell you differently,” Lydia said. “You’re the youngest knight in history. But only if you get back before sunset, and at this rate I don’t see how you’ll make it.”
Wart nodded at the logic of this, but then he noticed me.
“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be in jail?” he said.
“I’m supposed to be hung from my neck until dead,” I said cheerfully. “That’s the punishment for con artists. That’s what makes it such an appealing profession. No mandatory torture, just quick, clean execution. Your family can even do an open casket in most cases!”
“Joe!” Lydia said.
“What?” I shrugged. “He’s a grown knight now. He’s responsible for meting out justice like that against scoundrels like me.”
“That’s true,” Wart nodded slowly, processing. “In that case Joe, I guess you’re under arrest.”
“Oh, am I?” I said, drawing my sword. “Well in that case, you’re dead.”
“Joe!” Lydia gasped, leaping between me and the boy.
“No, it’s only fair, Miss Lydia,” Wart said, “this is just the life of a knight.”
He extricated his own little dagger from somewhere deep underneath his steel carapace and staggered into what I’m sure was a textbook sword fighting stance.
“Engarde, you... blaggard,” he said with as much volume as he could muster.
“Huh, never been called that one before, actually,” I said. “I’ll make you a deal, Wart. I hate to kill you on your first day as a knight, especially since I’ve got a hanging crime on my head already. What say you we make this more sporting. First man to touch the other with his sword wins.”
“I’m the quickest in my class,” Wart warned.
“Oh, I have no doubt of it. And here myself, I have no training whatsoever. I’d say the odds are pretty even.”
“Agreed,” Wart said.
“I’ll count it off then,” Lydia said. “Three paces apart, gentlemen, advance when I say three.”
It took a while for Wart to drag himself three paces away, but I didn’t mind waiting. Lydia stuck out her hand between us.
“One, two, three,” she said, swinging her hand up. The instant she was out of the way, I stuck my sword out straight in front of me, tapping Wart gently on the top of his head.
He fell backwards, more from surprise than any force on my part, and rolled around in his armor, sputtering.
“You didn’t even advance!” he said.
“Didn’t need to,” I shrugged. “Got long arms.”
“That’s not a fair fight!” Wart shouted as I helped him up to his feet.
“Real fights are never fair,” I said. “Remember that before you get into your next one.”
Wart sighed. “Just tell me what you want as my forfeit. I haven’t got any money on me. My allowance isn’t until next week.”
“Sparing my life is enough,” I said magnanimously.
“And...” Lydia prompted.
“What?” I said, genuinely confused.
She pointed at Wart’s armor.
“Oh yeah! We need to get to the cave.”
“The cave is only for knights, and you’ve been disqualified,” Wart said, eying me suspiciously.
“We know. Someone dangerous is trying to eliminate the knights, and we need to stop them,” I said.
“Then I should help!” Wart said excitedly.
“You should!” I said, thinking quickly. I took out one of the feathers Gladys the learhen had given me and handed it to him.
“Toss this feather in the air and travel to the palace as fast as you can, to warn the others,” I said.
“Will the feather really do that?” Wart asked.
“If you’re pure of heart it will.”
Wart threw the feather up as high as it would go and closed his eyes like he was making a wish, disappearing before the feather hit the ground.
“That feather would work on anybody,” Lydia said.
“Eh, the kid needed a boost.”
Wart’s directions to the cave were confusing and contradictory, which was good, Lydia said. There’s no straight path to a magic cave, especially one that doesn’t want to be found. Wart would be safe with Gladys, but I was worried about what lay ahead. The murderer would probably be harder to take in a swordfight than the kid had been.
We found the cave entirely by accident, which was how I knew it was the right one. The opening was an unremarkable crevice, wider than it was tall, so I had to stoop to enter it. I had been worried there would be a maze or some kind of monster to fight, but the path inside was simple and led directly to a pale blue pool of water that seeped quietly out of the ground, glowing as if lit by moonlight.
“Huh, caves have teeth,” I said, running my hand down one of the huge conical stones hanging from the roof of the cave.
“All caves used to be giant monsters who got trapped in mountains,” Lydia said.
“What, really?”
“No,” Lydia laughed. “I don’t remember you being so gullible before.”
“In the city I know my way,” I said. “Out here, anything could be true.”
We stared at the pool. It looked safe enough, but it also didn’t look very magical. It was hard to imagine a ghostly man standing in it, as shallow as it was.
“How is this supposed to work?” I asked Lydia.
“How would I know?” she said. “I’ve never been here before.”
“WELCOME, TRAVELER,” a voice boomed, shaking the cave walls. We both jumped, and I drew my sword, looking in every direction for the speaker, but the cave was empty.
“YOU HAVE QUESTED FAR TO MAKE IT HERE, THE HALLOWED HALL OF THE MOST WORTHY,” the voice continued.
“Who are you?” I shouted. “Show yourself!”
“PLEASE, WASH YOUR HANDS IN THE WATERS OF THE ISLAND, AND BE BLESSED WITH A BOUNTY WORTHY OF THE MAN YOU ARE,” the voice said like I hadn’t spoken.
“Have you seen a ghost knight or anyone come through here?” I said, but the voice fell silent.
Lydia and I looked at each other.
“You first,” she said, giving me a shove.
I put my sword down and dipped a finger tentatively into the water. It was warmer than it looked, but not unpleasant. Kind of like the baths in Cheapside. I submerged both my hands, feeling around for the bottom, and touched metal. Familiar metal.
“God dammit,” I said, looking at the item I held in my palm. It was the coin. Again.
“I guess the island has a sense of humor,” Lydia laughed.
She ran her fingers through the water, and I saw her face go serious.
“Anything?” I said.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t think there would be. It’s only for men.”
Footsteps crunched on the gravel of the cave floor before I could answer her. I pulled Lydia behind one of the larger cave-teeth just in time to see Karsten Jandal walk in.
&
nbsp; “Ugh,” Lydia and I both said under our breaths.
“WELCOME, TRAVELER,” the voice boomed again. Karsten ignored it, plunging his hands right in the water and scooping up a pair of silver gauntlets.
“Sweet!” Karsten said, putting them on.
He winced.
“Do you maybe have these in a larger size?” he called out to the voice.
“YOU HAVE QUESTED FAR TO MAKE IT HERE, THE HALLOWED HALL OF THE MOST WORTHY,” the voice said.
“Ah, maybe they’ll break in,” Karsten said. He left the cave, whistling. I decided I hated him.
We gave Karsten a bit of a head start, and then left the cave with a plan to sneak up on him and just take the gloves. That was the plan, that is, until we saw Clifton.
Clifton emerged from the woods with his chainmail draped over his head, and a gleaming new chest plate. Wart’s chest plate. And Hughie and Dickie’s boots. There was an unearthly gleam in his eyes, and his sword was dripping blood. I felt sick.
Clifton advanced on Karsten, who barely saw him coming.
“No!” Lydia cried out, but it was too late. One thrust of Clifton’s sword and Karsten fell dead. Clifton shucked the gauntlets off him and ran off into the woods, faster than any mortal man ought to be able to run.
Lydia and I looked at each other. Her face was drawn with fear.
“What do we do now?”
I knew the coward’s way out. A coward would run, in the opposite direction, as far and as fast as he could. A coward would find some way back home, back to his old life. Back to cheating at cards and stealing bread. But somehow, with all that had happened in the last few days, I’d forgotten to be a coward.
I tightened my grip on my sword.
“Do you know any shortcuts back to the palace?”
Lydia took a deep breath and smiled at me.
“Are you still good at climbing?”
Chapter Eighteen
They had really put together a lovely party for the final night. Candles glowed in every window, and music from a lively band drifted out into the night. The rain had stopped, leaving the air with a faint mist that made everything look like a painting, or a memory.
Lydia’s route through the treetops had dropped us right in the central courtyard, past all the guards and the butler with his invite list I certainly wasn’t on.
I swung down, landing softly on the manicured grass, and held my arms out to catch Lydia. After miming a few directions to me, refining my position, she flung herself down with abandon, her white nightdress fluttering behind her like a pair of wings.
It was the first time I’d held her in my arms since that night she left. She was sweating from all the climbing, and her skin was flushed, but she still smelled like cinnamon bark and some flower I wouldn’t know the name of. I caressed the back of her head instinctively, marveling at the feeling of her cloud of black hair swallowing up my fingers and her delicate neck beneath it all, bare except for the lace trimmings of her nightgown.
“You have to put me down,” she said softly into my ear. “We’re catching a murderer.”
“Right,” I breathed. I set her down gently on the grass in front of me, her riding boots incongruously heavy underneath the ethereal linen she was swathed in.
I thought about what she’d just said, and then I realized that I might die. In a few minutes, dead. I’d been in a lot of scrapes, but I’d never really believed I would die before. Even when I was in Clem’s gullet. What do you do in a time like this? It’s enough to make a fellow wish he had religion.
I kissed her. She kissed me back.
“Alright, let’s go be heroes,” I said, brushing a strand of Lydia’s hair behind her ear and turning away from her so I wouldn’t be tempted again.
“Let’s go be heroes,” she said, smiling.
The great hall was absolutely packed when we slipped in, far too crowded for anyone to notice us. Everyone’s attention was on the dais, where all the luminaries were assembled, wine cups raised. Lydia’s father was in the middle of toasting the Duke, who had one arm clapped around Princess Althea and the other around Lord Saunders. He looked drunk. Althea looked like she was about to be sick.
“The hour is nearly struck,” said Argus, “and with no other competitors back yet I think this will be a simple one this year.”
The crowd fell silent watching the sweeping hands of the clock. As the hour ticked over, a cacophony of bells chimed, blending into uproarious cheers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your newest knight of the realm,” Argus said, throwing his hands wide, “Clifton Crome!”
Clifton bowed deeply to Althea and grabbed her by the wrist, so tightly that I saw her gasp in pain. Then he turned to the crowd, leering at them with a rictus grin. That strange light was still in his eyes, even brighter now.
“This has been a very, very long time coming,” Clifton said. “As you all know, I was once no more than a humble squire. To have started out so far below all you, and now to be up here as your equal, as one of you…”
His murderous gaze swept the crowd.
“It makes me remember exactly how you all treated me.”
He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Lydia said, reeling. I helped her over to a chair by the rows of columns that lined one side of the room, keeping my eyes on Clifton the whole time. He was pacing the stage now, enjoying his moment.
“Can I offer you a cold compress, miss?” said a steward, appearing out of nowhere.
“That sounds lovely, thank you Thane,” said Lydia, then her eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you supposed to be on strike?”
“Well, the funny thing about that is I’m not really a steward,” said Thane, “and this isn’t really a cold compress.”
“Barry?” Lydia whispered.
He nodded.
“But what did you mean by–”
The folded piece of cloth Barry held out to her sprang up in a little “ta-da!” move before flitting over to me, running itself in circles around my neck.
“Hank! How?” I said, dumbstruck.
“That little guy saved my life,” Barry said. “Clifton was lying in wait for the brothers, right behind that rock. He’d have got me too, but I used the pearl and turned into a fish. Jumped right into the river and swam away. And I’d be swimming still, if I hadn’t run into this guy. He somehow made it clear enough to my fishy mind that I was supposed to turn back into a man, so I did, and we legged it here as fast as we could.”
“I never thought I’d see either of you again,” I said, pulling him into a hug.
“Ah you can’t get rid of me that easily,” Barry said. “Quaerite aeternum, as they say.”
“Do they say that?” asked Lydia.
Barry thought about it for a second.
“I dunno, it just feels familiar,” he said.
“That seems familiar to me too,” I said, furrowing my brow.
“They have a lot of Latin carved into the walls of the Penny Mines?” Lydia teased.
“None a well-bred lady like you should be reading.”
Clifton laughed maniacally, reminding us all that there was a murderer to catch. We turned to see him tug the gauntlets on, wincing just like Karsten had, and then he put on the helmet and flung his arms wide, advancing toward the crowd, seeming to grow more powerful with each step.
The crowd recoiled. Althea screamed. The rich men said a lot of “what’s all the meaning of this” and “control yourself, sir!” while Clifton just laughed and laughed.
And then nothing much happened.
The crowd settled back down, looking confused. Even Clifton looked embarrassed. He took the helmet off and put it back on again, and then did the wide-arms pose. Still nothing. He drew his sword, the one he’d killed all the other knights with. Oh god, Wart, what had he done with Wart? And Gladys.
I drew my sword too.
But still nothing happened. Lord Saunders stepped forward and whispered something in Clifton’
s ear that made him whip around in fury.
“Of course I have all the pieces! Chainmail, chest plate, helmet, gauntlets, boots! One full set of enchanted armor, for ruling all the land. Maybe your stupid son forgot to do his part, Saunders.”
“My son is the only part of this I trust,” Saunders growled. “Your incompetence is standing in his way.”
The expression on Althea’s face changed.
“Titus? Does he still live?” she asked. She didn’t look like she’d be happy if the answer was yes.
Saunders patted her on the hand.
“Hold fast, dear. Your loneliness is almost at an end.”
“I’ve had about enough of everybody pining over that failure,” Clifton shouted. He spat at the portrait of Titus hanging on the wall.
“We need to get up there,” I whispered to Lydia and Barry, pushing through the crowd as discreetly as a man of my size could. Nobody was budging.
“My son was twice the man you’ll ever be, squire,” Saunders sneered.
Clifton held his sword up to Saunders’ throat.
“Your son,” he said, “is dead. Because he cheated. Because he killed.”
“Like you did!” Lydia screamed.
Clifton whipped around, looking for her.
“Oh, is that Lady Lydia? The spinster witch of Teems? This contest’s consolation prize? You know your father tried to bribe me to marry you last year, right? He was going to marry you off to a commoner just to get rid of you. Because you’re embarrassing.”
Lydia flinched, blinking back tears, and then punched Clifton square in the face. He grabbed her by the hair, twisting her neck at a painful angle, but it barely slowed her down. She kicked him in a place where I, personally, would have placed some armor before beginning any evil undertaking, and wrenched herself free while he groaned in pain. Lydia squared off, setting up another punch, but he lobbed a swooping right hook that caught her right on the jaw, his size advantage making up for his lack of skill.
That was it. I shoved my way through the last few rows of people and tackled Clifton, knocking him to the ground. Hank jumped out of my pocket and got a few licks in too, coiling himself into a rope to whip Clifton in the face.
Clifton yanked his helmet on tighter and rolled away from me.