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

              Rafiq flew high and sank again. It was no use trying to run, but the furious energy in him demanded to be spent, and it wasn’t until he’d expended it that he returned to Prince Akish in the courtyard below.

The prince threw him an impatient look when he landed. “Are you finished sulking?”

Rafiq spat a molten piece of fire and said: -
Yes-

“Good. I’ll have need of you once I’m in the Keep.”

-I won’t fit-

“You’re Burdened,” said the prince. “Be a man.”

Rafiq snarled an even bigger ball of fire but there was nothing he could do. Burdened he had been, and Burdened he was to Change. His wings dwindled and disappeared into his shoulder blades, sparking the faint sense of panic that changing to human always induced in him, and the courtyard around him seemed to spring up, growing at ridiculous speed. When it was done he found himself crouched on the flagstones, chilled and small, with one stupidly delicate human hand flat against marble where it made a brown blot against the white. Somehow, whether from familiarity with Prince Akish’s physiognomy or because of his own dusky scales, Rafiq always found himself as a vaguely earth-coloured human when he changed. It made him fit in with the general Illisran population, and if he’d assumed anything so specific, Rafiq would have assumed that he would take on the lighter caramel skin tone of the Shinpoan people when Changing in Shinpo.

He climbed rather unsteadily to his feet, aware that Prince Akish was waiting by the Keep’s massive front doors with impatient black eyes, his fingers tapping an irregular tattoo on the grand marble balustrade beside him. There was a similarly large and ornate bell pull within easy reach of the prince– not that he’d bestir himself to pull it, thought Rafiq, with an unfamiliar human grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He managed to climb the stairs on his second attempt, precariously off-balance by the loss of his two forward legs, and set a resounding gong bellowing on the other side of the doors by a vigorous pull at the bell-chain. Beside Rafiq, the prince straightened his chain-mail and adjusted his sword to a more convenient angle: preparing for either female welcome or male attack.

              Someone must have been watching for them, because the ringing tone of the gong had scarcely faded when one of the heavy double-doors groaned inward, spilling bloody light on the red marbled floor of the Keep’s grand hall. Rafiq saw bare feet first, one of them white-scarred in a line that vanished beneath a fluttering hem of light pink. It was a girl– a serving girl, if Prince Akish’s: “You there! Where is the princess?” was to be trusted.

The serving girl gave them a Shinpoan bow with her bare arms arms outstretched gracefully, displaying the top of her beaded head-dress for a respectful moment.

She drew herself upright again in a single, liquid movement, and said in careful Illisran: “Your mightinesses are well-come and apologies are offered.”

“Never mind that,” said the Prince, in impatient and effortlessly colloquial Shinpoan: “I don’t want your apologies, I want the princess. Bring her to me.”

“Well, that’s what I was trying to apologise about,” said the serving girl. Rafiq thought she looked relieved to be speaking her native tongue. “You can’t get to the princess. You’ve passed one Circle of Challenge, but there are six more to go. In fact, as soon as you step across the threshold the second Circle will begin, so you
really
might like to think about it before you– oh...”

Her voice trailed away as Prince Akish said to Rafiq: “Remove her,” and Rafiq seized her by the elbows, lifting her bodily out of the way. He’d always thought his human form was ridiculously small, but it occurred to him for the first time that it was only so in relation to his dragon self. The serving girl’s head only came to his shoulder, and now that he came to think of it, Rafiq found that he could see over Prince Akish’s head without rising on the pads of his feet.

“You’ll refrain from getting in our way,” said the prince, crossing the threshold in Rafiq’s wake.

The serving girl, flicking a look from Prince Akish to Rafiq, said: “I’m sure you’re right. There’s a Door Out if you need it, your highnesses. Don’t hesitate to call if you should require me: I’ll be in the next room.”

She left them in a flutter of pink silk, the long end of her neck-scarf wafting lightly behind her. To Rafiq, it seemed as though she was decidedly cross. That was intriguing, because he’d always found female humans particularly hard to read. The moods and features of the prince and other Illisran males he had come to read tolerably well, but he hadn’t had much of an opportunity to study the female of the species.

“Leave the serving girl alone,” said Prince Akish, following Rafiq’s eyes. “We don’t need her. The princess is said to be in the highest room of this accursed tower: we’ll ascend the main stairs and find our way from there. Be alert. Take the lead.”

They weren’t styled as Commands, but Rafiq felt the burden settle on him nevertheless. He crossed the hall in swift steps, his eyes darting into the bloody shadows that flanked it. It was hard to tell exactly how big the hall was, though it was clear that it was vast: the smudging of shadows far away were akin to an old oil painting. In fact, it didn’t seem as though the hall ended so much as became two dimensional. Rafiq felt his eyes slide away from the far end in discomfort and started up the stairs. His human legs were beginning to feel more able, and he took the stairs two at a time with one ear to the prince’s footfalls behind him. The curving balustrade framed the hall below, cool white against red, and rounded into a smooth bowl at the upper landing, from whence the front doors could be seen in the same kind of flat reality as the distant hall below. Rafiq grunted at that, missing the familiar heat of fire in the back of his throat, and passed ahead of the prince into the grand room that led on from the landing.

It was paved in the same red marble as the hall below. Rafiq grimaced in distaste, but the expression froze on his face as his eyes met the grand staircase at the end of the chamber– no, hall! He took several swift steps into the room and turned in a slow circle, his chin oscillating up and down in his study of the hall.

“It’s the same as the one below,” said Prince Akish. “It’s exactly
the same as the hall below.”

Rafiq, who had been systematically scanning the hall, said: “It
is
the hall below. We’re back where we started.”

The prince said flatly: “That’s impossible.”

“Yes,” agreed Rafiq, but he saw the prince’s eyes flickering wildly around the hall.

“Confusing, isn’t it?” said the serving girl’s voice. She was in the doorway of the next room: the same one that she had entered in the hall below.

“How did you get there?” demanded Prince Akish.

Rafiq managed to restrain himself from sighing, though one of his brows rose, and when he chanced to meet the serving girl’s eyes she was looking distinctly amused.

“I was here all along,” she said. “I told you: there are another six Circles of Challenge. This is the second. It’s a circular paradigm of two rooms and a staircase from which there are no exits except the way forward and the Door Out.”

“She must have sneaked up the staircase behind us,” said Prince Akish stiffly to Rafiq.

“She didn’t,” said the serving girl. “But don’t take my word for it. Climb the stairs again. I’ll wait for you.”

“Climb the stairs again,” said Prince Akish to Rafiq.

Rafiq’s instinct was to bare his teeth in a snarl but his human face didn’t know how to make the right shapes, so he grimly ascended the stairs without speaking. Trust Akish to do anything he could do to avoid being made a fool of!

This time he kept Prince Akish and the serving girl in sight as he climbed, guiding himself by the balustrade. As it curved out into the familiar bowl shape of the landing once again, Rafiq took one last look at the others and strode into the room. The serving girl and the prince stood there before him.

“Here we are again,” said the serving girl pleasantly. Rafiq gazed at her silently, then wheeled back to the stairs behind him. When he leant over the balustrade of the landing, the serving girl’s eyes were on him from her place in the hall below. She gave him an elegant half-shrug.

“Come back in,” said Prince Akish curtly, and when Rafiq crossed the landing once again, he added: “Close the doors. The other staircase is harping upon my nerves.”

Rafiq did so, glancing up at the double doors at the top of the grand stairs in
this
room. He couldn’t see them properly, but through the spokes of the balustrade he thought he saw wooden panelling. The top doors were now also closed.

Prince Akish turned on the serving girl. “What is this sorcery?”

“Just what I told you,” she said. “This is the second Circle. Unless you take the Door Out, these are the only two rooms you’ll see until you find the way forward.”

“Give me the room,” said Prince Akish, after a frowning moment of thought. “I need quiet.”

The serving girl looked indignant, but she didn’t resist when Rafiq took her by the elbow and ushered her into the attached room. Incongruously, it was a small library, the entrance to which was rounded and had carved into its lintel some form of text. There were four large windows on the outer facing wall, between which bookcases were built, stretching high into the ceiling and packed with books large and small.

The serving girl twitched her elbow away once they were across the threshold and threw herself onto one of the low, wide settees that decorated the room.

“I thought you were a prince at first,” she said. “You’re not, are you?”

Rafiq was surprised into a small, coughing laugh that would have sent sparks flying in his dragon form. “I’m not a prince.”

“No, you’re some type of human construct.” The serving girl crossed her legs, planted her elbows on her knees, and gazed at him with her chin in her palms. “Not Fae, so that’s a relief. What are you?”

Rafiq stared back at her impassively, his arms folded.

She narrowed her eyes, but said: “All right, then. Something easier. What’s your name?”

“Rafiq,” he said.

“I’m Kako. I’m the princess’ maid. Are you the prince’s squire? And are you always so obedient?”

There was an expectant silence which Rafiq declined to break. It was none of this pert little serving girl’s business what he was to the prince or anyone else, and his own servitude he absolutely refused to discuss.

“You don’t have to answer that,” said Kako, when Rafiq had made it very obvious that he wasn’t going to answer. “It was a trick question anyway. I can see the link from you to him: he has you in Thrall.”

Rafiq broke his silence to say: “You’re a very pert maid.”

“Yes,” said Kako, with the air of one acknowledging a universal truth. She thought about it for a moment and added: “It’s not polite to notice.”

“Doesn’t the princess beat you?”

“No,” Kako told him. “But she’s not your average sort of princess. What’s your prince doing out there?”

“Thinking,” said Rafiq. “He’s trying to figure out all of this.”

“Different from the usual type of prince, then,” said Kako thoughtfully. “Does he usually oust everyone at his pleasure? No, don’t strain yourself, of
course
he does.”

A step at the door saved Rafiq from having to respond. Prince Akish, striding into the room, said: “Rafiq, climb out the window.”

“Which window?” Rafiq asked wearily.

Kako said: “It won’t do you any good.”

To Rafiq’s surprise, this time the prince appeared to listen to her. “Why not?”

Kako’s eyes flicked toward Rafiq: he saw mischief there. “Oh well,” she said: “It’s easier to show you than to tell you, after all. Climb out the window, Rafiq!”

Rafiq sent her a smouldering look but since Akish didn’t repeal his order, he had no other choice than to try the window. The one he chose opened easily, but upon climbing out he was somehow not at all surprised to find himself climbing back into the library via another window with no sensation of missed time. Prince Akish looked sourly crestfallen: Kako, if Rafiq read her aright, was trying not to laugh.

“You,” said the prince suddenly, pointing at Kako. Her face sobered immediately: she looked distinctly cautious. “What function do you perform here?”

“Personal maid to the princess,” said Kako immediately. “Your highness.”

“Do you wander at will?”

“That depends, your highness. If there are no challengers in the Keep, yes. If the Circles are begun, no.”

“But you know the ways through the challenges.”

“Only the princess and the dragon know the way through the Circles,” said Kako. “At least, they know the way through the first six Circles: no one but the Enchanted Keep itself knows the way through the Seventh Circle. I know where they are and what they look like.”

“Does not the princess wander at will through the Keep?”

Kako gave that little half-shrug again. “She’s under enchanted sleep most of the time, actually. When the dragon is out and about she’s asleep all the time.”