The Forever Knight

17

We reached the Dovra river that first afternoon, traveling north along its bank until nightfall, where we camped and fell asleep to the sound of rushing water. All that day the landscape shifted, changing constantly from rugged hills to flowered plains. Our horses drank thirstily at the river, and I was glad to finally have a landmark to follow. The Dovra would take us nearly all the way to Diriel’s castle in the mountains of Akyre. That night as we slept by the river, I dreamed I was alone on a boat on the Dovra, being stalked in the water by Fallon’s monster. I tried and tried to outrun the thing, crashing the boat as its tentacles dragged me under.

I awoke with a gasp. Cricket was sleeping soundly next to me. The moon was high and morning was hours away, but I did not sleep again.

* * *

When day finally broke I was happy to be moving again. By now Cricket had grown accustomed to Malator’s voice in her head, and she spoke to him as if he were riding next to her, asking him questions about the life he had before he died, why the Akari helped the Inhumans, and all the other mysteries that I’d spent years trying to unravel. But Malator did not make himself visible while we rode. Instead he remained inside both our heads, sharing his voice with the two of us. When I half-jokingly asked him to conjure up a horse so he could ride with us, he sniffed at the notion.

“What if someone saw me?” he asked.

A fair answer, I supposed.

Nevertheless we were an odd threesome-me in my bronze armor, Cricket on her pony, and Malator, a disembodied voice popping in and out of our heads. But no one questioned us because no one saw us, even on that second day as we reached the mountains. Except for some abandoned homesteads, the road along the river was empty, a soulless highway leading, it felt, to nowhere. Though the day started out cheerfully, we all lost our smiles when we saw the black mountains.

Akyre. The flawed jewel of the Bitter Kingdoms.

I slowed my horse. Diriel’s castle lay in the mountains. The river would take us to him. I studied the river, shocked to see the way it forked both north and east, crashing against the rocks in a churning tangle. I had never seen the like before. Cricket guided her pony toward the bank, up to the very edge of the tumult. Her lips trembled as her mind searched for something. Then suddenly, she sighed its name.

“The Bloody Knot.” She nodded to herself. “That’s what it’s called.”

I’d never heard those words, nor had I ever seen Cricket recognize a place before. I rode closer. “How do you know that?”

“I remember,” she said. “This place where the rivers meet-it’s called the Bloody Knot.” She pointed east. “Kasse is that way. And behind us is Drin. This is where they border Akyre.”

“That’s good. You see? Coming here has helped your memory. Can you think of anything else?”

Her lips flattened into a thin smile as she strained to remember. She closed her eyes and held her breath. “I’m trying. .”

“You must have come here once,” I suggested. “Or someone told you about it. Your parents, maybe?”

“Maybe.” Cricket grunted in frustration. “I can’t think of it!”

“You will,” I said gently. “But this is good. It’s a start.”

She nodded as she stared into the river. “The water. That’s what makes me remember. Like the waterfall.”

“Water?”

“Lukien, when we’re done with Diriel, you’ll take me there, won’t you? I have to see it! I know it will help me remember.”

“I told you, Cricket, I could have taken you to Sky Falls yesterday.”

“I know, but it’s different now. I’m really starting to remember things, see?”

“I’m glad for that,” I told her. “Really, I am. I promise-if everything goes all right with Diriel.”

“No! That’s not what you said! You said you’d take me to Sky Falls when we’re done. That was our deal.”

“And I will,” I said sternly, “if I can. Don’t forget, Cricket, that you’re the one who insisted we see Diriel first. Our mission and all that. You’re the squire, and I’m the knight, remember?”

Cricket looked contrite. “I remember.” She pointed her pony back toward the road. “We should go.”

“You’re trying to make me feel guilty,” I said. “I won’t. Not this time. This is important to me, Cricket.”

“I know. Come on.”

“Damn it!” I rode up hard and cut off her pony, making her look at me. “You can’t act like this. We’re riding into the teeth of the tiger, and I can’t have a squire who just dabbles at the job. Think about the mission. Think about something besides yourself. Think about me for a change!”

Those last words slipped out before I could stop them. Cricket looked aghast, then hurt.

“Huh?”

“Are you brave? Or is it just an act? If you don’t have the stomach for this job you should have told me so back in Isowon.”

“What? No. .”

“I told you we’d go to Sky Falls when we can. I told you I’d try. But right now I have to go to Akyre. Not just so you can get your memories back. Not just for those condemned soldiers either.”

“Lukien, I’m sorry-”

“Just shut up and listen,” I snapped. It was all coming out of me now, and I didn’t want to stop. “This mission, this is my chance to do something good. That’s what knights-errant are supposed to do, right? But so far all I’ve done is get my neck broken and be tricked into helping Fallon fight his monster. But this is something big. Maybe Diriel will kill us on sight. But maybe he won’t. Maybe he’ll listen, and I can make peace for a change instead of war. Just once I want to be a diplomat instead of a soldier.”

Cricket said nothing. I couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or shocked. Malator was quiet too. At that moment I would have gladly left them both behind.

“I won’t leave you here, but I won’t turn back, either,” I told Cricket. “I’m going to Akyre. Right now. If you turn back that’s your choice. But don’t tell folks I sent you away.”

Here’s how Cricket reminded me how young she was: She didn’t cry but struggled against her tears. She didn’t argue or curse me. She just looked at me, helpless.

“I don’t want to leave,” she said, as her voice cracked. “I want to go with you.”

“And we can talk about Sky Falls after this is done?”

She nodded and wiped her cheeks with her palms. This is where I usually give in to her, I thought. Where I tell her I’m sorry. But not this time.

“Good,” I said. “Now follow me. From now on I take the lead.”

* * *

We rode for nearly an hour more, until the mountains cast their shade upon us. The river bent eastward but the road bade us north, so we parted with the water and drove deeper into a sparse forest of stunted trees and rubble. With Cricket following and Malator silent, I studied the mountains looming ahead of us, watching as the road wound up the granite face toward Diriel’s castle. Yet there was no town to greet us, no hint of anyone along the way, and I began to doubt we were really in Akyre at all. Until at last I saw the flag.

My one good eye is sharper than a hawk’s. I noticed the flapping bit of green long before Cricket did. Halfway up the mountain, upon what I realized now was a turret built into the stone, waved the flag of Akyre. A squint brought the castle into relief.

“I see it,” I announced, pointing the way. “There.”

Cricket looked harder, finally noticing the flag. “Yeah. You think they see us?”

“Maybe not yet, but they will.” Except for the thin trees, we were out in the open. “We don’t want to hide anyway. Make them think we’re friends.”

I didn’t ask Cricket if the castle looked familiar, or even if she was afraid. None of that mattered now. We rode straight and steady for the castle, each step drawing us higher as the road began sloping upwards. Now I could see the pitted walls of the place bulging out from the rock, the broken ramparts crenellated like old teeth. Two watchtowers stood at either end of the castle, one oddly shorter than the other and both caked with moss. A bridge connected the main gate to the road, a narrow passage of planks and ropes spanning a lethal gorge.

“We have to cross that?” asked Cricket.

Even from a distance, the bridge made her blanch. I pretended not to be bothered.

“It just looks small from here,” I said. “It has to be safe.”

“That place is crumbling, Lukien. Look at it.”

“They get across somehow, Cricket. If they’re not afraid of it, neither will we be.”

Cricket gave a groan but kept on following, up and up on the serpentine road. Finally the road leveled, spitting us onto a ledge high above the whistling gorge. Ahead waited the bridge, and beyond that Diriel’s castle. Now we could clearly see figures along the walls and watchtowers, armed men, mostly, staring at us. In the courtyard-if you could call it that-women toiled in a shriveled garden, their knees bloodied from the hardscrabble earth. A dozen naked men shoveled stones from an enormous ditch, each one chained by the neck to his neighbor. A one-armed sentry with a whip watched over the prisoners. At his feet a child drank from a water-filled hole.

One look at the place, and I knew I’d made a mistake.

“Cricket,” I said softly. “I want you to stay close to me. Don’t wander off, don’t say a word.”

Cricket barely nodded. I guided her toward the bridge. On the other side a man waved a burning torch, shouting of our coming. The women and prisoners looked up. Cricket and I paused at the very edge of the bridge, taking one regrettable look down. Had the road really brought us up so high?

“Lukien, if this thing breaks. . we’ll never survive!”

Well, you won’t, I thought.

More soldiers gathered along the crumbling walls, but all I could hear was the wind and the wild ululation of the man with the torch. I wasn’t sure if he was warning us off or inviting us across. But none of the soldiers moved to stop us. Sure the bridge would hold our horses, I urged Zephyr onto the span, then saw a figure scramble across the courtyard. A small, bizarre-looking thing, I thought at first it was a boy, running toward the bridge. He was dressed like a nobleman in a velvet cloak that didn’t fit him properly and a chain of office around his neck. His outrageous red hair reminded me of candy, but despite his clearly aged face he was barely taller than a toddler. He grabbed the ropes on the other side of the bridge, swung onto it like a monkey and stuck his face out.

“Who are you?” he cried.

Cricket peered at him in shock. “What is that? A man?”

I’d spent too long with the Inhumans to be surprised-or offended-by any aspect of the human condition. “Respect,” I cautioned. “Remember, Minikin was small.”

“Minikin was a friend, Lukien. That one looks like a lunatic.”

“I am Lukien,” I called back. “From Liiria. May we come ahead?”

“From the continent?” The man bounded onto the bridge, shaking it with his bouncing. “Yes, come across! The master will be happy and pleased! Most happy and pleased! Come! Don’t be afraid!”

“Ask him if the bridge will hold us,” said Cricket.

“And offend him? Don’t you think that’s implied by the invitation?”

“Fine,” said Cricket. “You first then.”

I had thought about surviving the fall. But I really didn’t think I could, not even with Malator’s help. Still, Zephyr didn’t blink at my order, putting one hoof in front of the other as I ordered him onto the bridge. The midget at the other end waved to encourage us.

“This bridge is over a hundred years old!” he declared.

“He’s bragging?” quipped Cricket. Halfway across, she hurried me by bumping the butt of my horse. I urged Zephyr a little more, eager to get across. The midget sent to greet us made way, taking the reins of my mount and looking overjoyed.

“I’m Grecht,” he said. “Lukien! Oh, I’ve heard of you. Yes I have! The Bronze Knight comes to Akyre! So lovely, lovely. .”

His babbling made me think Cricket was right. Insane. And starved by the look of him. All bones and skin and yellow eyes. Bands of cloth kept the velvet cloak he wore from tumbling down his legs and arms. I took a breath and tasted dust. The skeletal prisoners looked my way, wondering who’d wandered into their hell, barely able to carry themselves under the weight of their shared chain. Up along the battlements, the soldiers watched without blinking. Each wore an elaborate uniform of gray and crimson, some studded with ribbon, others threadbare and torn, their faces painted a skull-like white.

Cricket and I dismounted. The tiny man took my sleeve and pulled.

“Master knows you’re here,” he said excitedly. “No one ever comes here from the continent!”

“Your name is Grecht?” I asked. “What happened here, Grecht?”

The midget acted puzzled. “I don’t take your meaning. Is something wrong?”

“This is Akyre, isn’t it?” asked Cricket. “This is where the king lives?”

Grecht beamed. “Emperor! This is Diriel’s palace.”

I gestured toward the prisoners. “And those men over there?”

“Kassens.” Grecht spit on the ground. “Slaves now.”

Sariyah had told us Kasse had fallen to Akyre. “Are there many?”

“All of Kasse are our slaves now!” said Grecht proudly. “Working to rebuild Akyre after what they’ve done. Do not even look at them, Sir Lukien. Why should a nobleman soil his sight with shit?” He looked at Cricket. “My pardon, young lady. Who is your companion, Sir Lukien?”

“My name is Cricket.”

“Cricket?” Grecht tittered. “From Liiria as well?”

“No,” replied Cricket.

“But from the continent? Master craves news from the continent. He awaits! Please come.” He dragged at my sleeve. “This way, please.”

“Our horses.”

“Yes, yes.”

Grecht howled to the women in the pathetic garden. A pair of them dashed forward, brushing the dirt from their tattered dresses. The older one took the reins of my horse without even a glance, but the younger one, a few years older than Cricket maybe, locked eyes with her, her mouth falling open as she studied Cricket’s shiny hair.

“Move!” barked Grecht and gave the girl a slap.

“Hey!” hissed Cricket. “Don’t touch her!”

Grecht reared back. “Girl?”

“This is my squire,” I said quickly. “Too quick to anger, but she belongs to me.” I handed Cricket’s pony to the young one from the garden. “Take care of the animals. Hay and water if you have it. Grecht, please let us see your master now.”

Grecht pulled up his flapping sleeves. He nodded anxiously and led us through the courtyard toward the lopsided gate, hanging open on its rusted hinges. The ancient place looked every bit its age, with moss climbing up the walls and slimy water trickling down. The crooked turrets that had somehow been blasted out of the mountain’s dour face suffocated the sunlight and flaked dust onto our heads. Once past the gate, the oily interior of the castle warmed us with fiery torches. Dogs and filthy children crowded us. Grecht kicked them aside. The walls of the cavernous hall still had outlines where tapestries and paintings had once hung. Now weapons clung to the bricks, mostly morning stars and blood-stained axes.

And there were soldiers, lining the way to the open chamber at the end of the hall. Now I knew what had spooked that refugee boy. Now I knew why Sariyah had called them soulless.

The Legion of the Lost.

Their dead eyes watched us as we passed, their faces smeared with paint, their fingernails pale as they clutched their pikes and flails. White hair drooped beneath their battered helmets. No breath drew from their half-alive bodies, but there was sentience in their features still, some remaining spark of humanity that kept them in this world.

Malator, are they alive? I asked.

Their bodies live, replied the Akari. But their souls dwell elsewhere.

These were the men I’d come to save, and suddenly the folly of my mission came clear. Akyre was no longer a kingdom. Something-maybe war, maybe famine, maybe both-had eaten away its civilized self. This is what Cricket had fled: the tons and tons of sorrow that buried her memory. I could barely stand myself suddenly. I had dragged Cricket to this? The sight was barely fit for a grown man’s eyes. Surely a girl could only be scarred by it.

I dreaded reaching the end of the hall, and when we did I stopped to let Grecht enter the chamber. Inside were more of the soulless fighting men and slaves, the soldiers at blind attention, the slaves naked and piled one atop the other in some feat of grotesque sculpture. Muffled cries came from the human mound as children poked at it with sticks. Another pile, this one of skulls, crowded around the wooden throne, as though the man atop it had used the bones for stepping stones. King Diriel sipped from a goblet, his bloodshot eyes watching us over its rim. He listened as Grecht announced us. At his side stood the man who’d broken my neck.

“Master, this is Lukien of Liiria!” chittered Grecht. He bent all the way down to the base of the skulls, his little palms on the floor. “He’s from the continent, Unrivaled. He came all that way to glorify you!”

Diriel placed his goblet on the arm of his great chair. He wore no shirt, just a red robe open over his torso so the world could see his ribs. A crown of jewels capped his long, dark hair, but he wore no other gems or gold. Scuffed boots, the kind a military man would wear, slowly tapped the floor as he considered us. When he grinned, a mouthful of filed teeth displayed, pointed like a badger’s.

I wanted to flee, not out of fear but out of sheer revulsion. I had seen madmen before, but not like this one. Even Akeela at the worst of his madness-a madness I myself had driven him to-hadn’t compared to this. Diriel radiated lunacy. He leaned over and whispered to Wrestler, and the two of them gazed at Cricket. Wrestler nodded his bald head and folded his arms snake-like over his huge chest. He was exactly as he had been that day in Arad, shirtless, his stance full of challenge, and when he looked at me the grin he gave told me how satisfied he’d felt to break my neck, the way a man might feel when copulating.

“Come closer, Liirian,” said Diriel. “The girl, too.”

His voice was a syrupy lisp, the result of his self-sharpened teeth, I supposed. I made sure Cricket was right beside me before moving. My hand was ready for my sword. Grecht scurried away as we approached the throne, nearly tripping on a rolling skull. Wrestler kept his eyes on Cricket. His tongue poked out to lick his bottom lip.

“Great King, my name is Lukien,” I said. “But you already know this. May I ask how you know my name?”

I didn’t bow or avert my eyes. I looked right at Diriel instead. The king sniffed at my etiquette.

“The girl,” said Diriel. “What is her name?”

“Cricket!” answered Grecht.

“Did I ask you, dwarf? Let her speak!”

“Cricket is my name,” replied Cricket stiffly. “I’m Lukien’s squire.”

“Squire?” Diriel laughed, turning to share the joke with Wrestler. “What sort of knight chooses a girl for his squire? Unless you mean she takes care of your other sword.”

“She is my squire, and I am her protector,” I said calmly, but anger made my face hot. Diriel wasn’t a king-he was a creature, and being polite took all my will. “She’s come to help me in my mission, my lord, at great peril to herself.”

“What peril?” asked Diriel. “If you mean my bodyguard, yes, he has an appetite for youngsters. He’s already told me of your meeting. He offered a price for her and you refused.”

“That’s right, and I’ll refuse it again,” I said. “We’ve no slaves where I come from, my lord. It’s not our way. For me to barter her would be immoral.”

“The morality of the continent. Dog shit.” Diriel shifted and the crown on his head tipped forward. “You asked how I know you. I know you because I know everything, Lukien of Liiria. I know you’re in the employ of that sodomite Anton Fallon. I even know that Wrestler snapped your neck like a chicken bone before you ever reached Isowon. Wrestler doesn’t lie to me, so I ask myself how it’s possible for you to be standing here.”

“Then you don’t know everything, my lord.”

“But I believe in miracles. Seeing you makes me believe, Sir Lukien. I hear from Isowon that you are immortal.” Diriel shrugged. “So it must be true. Now I ask myself, why does Anton Fallon think to threaten me with an immortal soldier, when I have so many of my own? Unless you come to plead for him. Have you? I see no repayment for the money he stole from me.”

“We’re not in his employ,” I said. “Not any longer.”

“No?” Diriel got out of his chair with a great big frown. “I have an army barely a day’s march from Isowon. Does he know this? I will have the mummy powder he promised and the money he stole from me! And yet he sends no one to plead for mercy?”

“I do come to plead, mighty Diriel, but not for Anton Fallon.”

“Ah, so you want something!” Diriel’s deduction made him grin. “You come to barter after all. I will pay a good price for the girl. We won’t call it slavery if it offends you. A gift, let’s say.”

“Let me say it clearly. The girl is under my protection. She’s not for sale or gift, and if anyone dares touch her they will be dead before they hit the ground.” I looked right at Wrestler. “That means you. Don’t put me to the test.”

Diriel clapped with pleasure. “I would pay to see that if I had any money left.” He dropped back into his throne. “I have none, you see. That goat-fucking swindler took it all, but it doesn’t matter. My army will get back what is mine. You can tell Anton Fallon that for me.”

“No, my lord, I can’t do that. My business with Fallon is done. I’m here to-”

“Stop,” bade Diriel. “You will do this for me. It is the only reason I allowed you to cross the bridge.”

“You’re a messenger boy,” snorted Wrestler. “How do you like that?”

“Do you think I give a shit why you’re here?” spat Diriel. “Did my peanut-brained midget tell you I’d be happy to see you just because you’re from the continent? I wipe my ass with your courts and courtesies, Liirian. The last travelers who came here from the continent wound up with their organs on my dinner plate. The Liirians and Reecians should pray to their dead gods that I don’t march my legion across the desert to conquer them next.”

Wrestler grimaced with laughter. The mound of slaves whimpered. One of the children-a boy-moved from tormenting them to sit on the skulls at Diriel’s feet. Another simply picked his nose. I could feel Cricket bridling next to me, just wanting to get out of there. I wanted to go too, but there was the mission, and as stupid as it seemed I was going to speak my piece.

“Your legions are the reason I’ve come, my lord. I had to see them for myself, and now I know that they are slaves too, just like these wretches you make entertain you. I ask myself, what kind of king would steal the souls of loyal soldiers? Anton Fallon is no friend of mine. Indeed he is a dog for selling you such an evil potion as mummia. But you can still truly be great, King Diriel. You can free these men and give them back their souls.”

Diriel blinked his bloodshot eyes, pretended to give weight to my words, then shook with laughter-uncontrollable laughter that made him knock over his goblet and cry real tears. His jolliness spread like a contagion, first to Wrestler and then to Grecht and the filthy children. Only the slaves and soldiers were silent.

“You came all this way to ask me to free my men from the mummy powder?” chortled Diriel. He choked on his laughter, then spat a wad of mucus toward Grecht. He stood and picked his way down the pile of skulls to face me. “Help me figure this out,” he said. “When did nations of the continent decide they were so much better than the rest of us? You don’t come and ask me favors, Liirian. I am an Emperor!” He placed his palm on his naked chest. “My men love me. They love me. They’re not my slaves. They’re my children. They would do anything for me.”

“How can they love you?” I asked. “When they can’t even think for themselves? Do you want an army of mindless creatures, King Diriel, or men with the heart to choose their loyalties?”

Diriel smirked as though he’d been waiting for his chance. “Zursas,” he said with a snap of his fingers. “Come here.”

From out of the line of soldiers stepped a single legionnaire. White-haired like the rest of them, I knew from his pallid skin that he couldn’t be more than thirty years old. The silence of the grave followed him as he moved, his worn-out boots impossibly quiet against the sooty floor. I fought for a glimpse of his dead gaze, looking for any spark of life.

“Zursas,” said Diriel, “show these outlanders how much you love me.”

It happened so fast I didn’t have time to cover Cricket’s eyes. The soldier’s dagger flashed from his belt to his very naked throat, and with one deep and instant gash he sliced it. Blood sheeted down his neck. Cricket screamed and the soldier crumbled. The slaves in their sculpture began to squirm and wail, and the children scampered from the pooling blood. But Diriel didn’t move. He stood there as the blood seeped around his boots, looking at me.

“Now, don’t you wish your squire here was as loyal as that? This is what you’re asking me to forsake. I need more men like this, not fewer. I bargained for them in good faith with Anton Fallon. He owes me the mummia, but that won’t be enough to save him. He stole from me. An Emperor! Not even that monster will save him from me.”

I froze.

“That’s right, I know about the monster,” said Diriel. “He hired you to help him kill it, didn’t he? But it’s still alive, yes?”

I nodded, unsure how much to reveal. Diriel already knew far more than I suspected. Cricket stepped back from the pooling blood, pulling me with her. I wanted to kill Diriel for making her witness such horror.

“The monster is Fallon’s problem,” I lied. “I’m here to talk about your soldiers.”

“You have my answer about my soldiers,” said Diriel. “Did you fight the monster? They say it’s not of this world.”

“Who says that?” I asked, eager to learn all I could about the creature.

“The scum I employ to tell me such things. They say it comes from the world of the dead. The same world where the souls of my soldiers live. You’re a man of that world, too, Sir Lukien. An undead warrior. A forever knight! But even you couldn’t destroy it, could you?”

I tried to ignore the dead man at my feet. Cricket held her ground without looking down. “You see things very clearly, King Diriel,” I said. “I’m a stranger here. I know nothing of Akyre’s lore. The monster’s a mystery to me. You seem to know more about it than I do.”

“Are we testing each other? I don’t like contests, so let me tell you plainly-I do not know this monster or where it comes from. I only know it has power, and power is what I need. You faced the creature and survived. That intrigues me. If you could bring the beast to me, that would be worth something.”

“That thing is uncontrollable,” said Cricket. “It’s not a pet.”

“Or a weapon,” I added. “I know what you’re asking, King Diriel, and what you’re asking is impossible.”

Diriel stepped out of the blood, then wiped his boots on the dais around his throne. Wrestler came down to stand next to him. When I braced myself Diriel chuckled.

“You want to go,” he observed. “You want to take the girl out of here because you fear for her. You’re right to be afraid. Wrestler isn’t as loyal as my legionnaires, but I tell you this in truth-you are safe in this castle, much more safe then you will be once you leave. You’re under my protection here. Both of you. Stay. For the night.”

My insides clenched. “I came to see your soldiers and talk sense to you, my lord. But maybe we’re already done here.”

Diriel picked up one of the skulls around his throne. “A Kassen,” he pronounced. “Worthless. You should be glad they’ve been wiped away, but you’re appalled because you’re so moral and stupid.” He dropped the skull to the floor. “You came to haggle with me. We’re not done.”

“Are we back to bargaining for the girl or the monster?” I asked.

“The monster, of course. The girl is safe for as long as you remain in my castle. Outside these walls I have no control over Wrestler. Stay. Think of a way to get me that monster. If you do, I will consider sparing Anton Fallon.”

“Not a chance.”

“Then think of something else you want. The lives of the people of Isowon, perhaps. If I have the monster I will consider Fallon’s debt to me paid. Otherwise. .” Diriel shrugged. “Who can say what will happen to them?”

We were in a trap. When I couldn’t think of what to say, Malator spoke to calm me.

Agree with him. Remain here for the night. That’ll give us time to plan something.

Cricket?

She’ll be safe.

I had no choice but to believe him. “All right,” I agreed. “We’ll stay the night. If you’d make a place for us.”

“What?” cried Cricket. She pointed at Wrestler. “So he can rape me while I sleep?”

Diriel seemed offended. “Child, haven’t you heard me? This is where you are safe, not out there. Outside these walls you’re a deer to be hunted. Inside you belong to me, and no one touches what is mine.”

I looked at Wrestler. “Listen good, shit-eater. I don’t need sleep. I’m going to be up all night standing guard over her. You’re fast with your hands, I’ll give you that, but it won’t be a fair fight next time. You come after her, you’ll lose your head. Understand?”

Wrestler winked to mock me.

“Gargoyle, I asked if you understand me.”

“I understand.”

Grecht hurried forward and took Cricket’s hand, trying to lead her out of the throne room. She pulled free of him, glaring as though I’d betrayed her.

“Go with him,” I ordered. “I’ll be along.”

Pleased, Diriel relaxed as he watched Cricket taken from the chamber. “Think hard tonight, Sir Lukien,” he advised. “If you can get me the monster, we can part ways happy men.”

“And you’ll guarantee Cricket’s safety?” I asked.

“For as long as you’re here,” agreed the king. “After that, I guarantee nothing.”