Arrow (Knife) (13 page)

Silver cutlery gleamed on white linen, and candlelight washed the room in gold. The Empress sat at the head of the long table, with the two Blackwings at her right hand and a female with pale, feathery hair to her left. ‘Ah, there you are,’ she said as Rhosmari came in. ‘Our honoured guest. Please, sit down.’

Rhosmari pulled out a chair at the other end, as far from the Empress as she could get without leaving the room. No sooner had she sat down than the side door opened and Sarah came in, staggering beneath the weight of a steaming soup tureen. Setting it down on the table, she began ladling out the contents with elaborate care.

‘Bouillabaisse,’ said the Empress. ‘How splendid. Do you enjoy seafood, Rhosmari? Do your people eat it often?’

Rhosmari did not want to answer that question. She did not want to speak at all. She would rather eat a thousand silent meals at her mother’s table, or even starve, than make dinner conversation with the woman who had enslaved Llinos, and had now stolen her own freedom as well.

Fortunately, the Empress did not seem offended by Rhosmari’s silence. She turned instead to the female faery beside her. ‘Tell me,’ she said. ‘How have you fared today?’

‘I tracked down three renegades,’ came the proud reply. ‘They escaped, but not before I had taken their blood.’ She reached into her jacket pocket, but the Empress stopped her with a shake of the head.

‘Not at the table, Veronica,’ she said. ‘Think of our guest.’

Colour stained Veronica’s high cheekbones, and the look she shot Rhosmari was almost venomous as she crushed a handful of crackers into her soup. ‘Of course, Your Majesty.’

All the while the elderly woman moved about the table, setting out baskets of crusty bread on each end and pouring glasses of wine and water. Rhosmari watched her, puzzled and a little disturbed. Humans did not have true names like faeries did; they could be confused and made forgetful by magic, but not easily controlled. And not even the most powerful faery could enter a human house without invitation, so this woman must have welcomed the Empress willingly. Did she not realise how much the Empress despised her kind, or did she not care?

‘That will be all, Sarah,’ said the Empress, and meekly the woman retreated, leaving the faeries alone.

‘You have trained her well,’ said Corbin, sipping his wine. ‘I have not tasted such excellent food and drink in years. Still, does it not bother you to have her always shuffling around?’

‘She cannot help her age,’ replied the Empress. ‘Indeed, I am impressed that she carries herself as well as she does. Rhosmari, you are not eating. Does the meal not please you?’

Rhosmari stared into her soup. Its savoury smell made her stomach cramp with hunger. But she still could not bring herself to eat.

‘Or is it our conversation you find distasteful?’ the Empress continued. ‘Are you fond of humans, perhaps?’

‘I am not fond of humans,’ Rhosmari said. ‘I only think…’ But then she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. She was no longer sure what she thought.

‘Perhaps you have heard that I believe all humans to be worthless,’ said the Empress. ‘It is not so. I have known humans who are gentle and good-hearted, and who cause no harm to anyone. But sadly, there are many others who are not so self-controlled, and they bring shame and trouble upon all the rest. Humanity needs to be tended like a garden, and the bad ones weeded out, or else they will destroy themselves and us as well.’

‘I think we all know one human who could use some weeding,’ said Byrne, and Veronica made a face into her wine glass. Rhosmari was wondering who they could be talking about when the Empress said with a little sigh, ‘Ah, yes. Timothy.’

‘Why?’ The question leaped past Rhosmari’s lips. ‘What did he ever do to you, that you hate him so much? He’s just a boy—’

‘Ah, so you have met him,’ said the Empress, unruffled. ‘I wondered. A talented young man, not unattractive in his way, but regrettably prone to violence. Did he tell you, when he came to visit your people, that I had condemned him and his faery companion to death? It was not true. I sent the Blackwings after Timothy and Linden for the same reason I allowed Martin to go after you: because I wished to talk with them, and they would not come to me any other way.’

‘I know that Veronica tried to steal his music,’ said Rhosmari flatly.

‘She was charmed by his guitar playing, and wanted to taste what it felt like to be so gifted. And she was viciously attacked for it. Did Timothy tell you that?’ The Empress laid down her soup spoon and leaned forward, eyes holding Rhosmari’s. ‘Did he tell you how he and his friends repeatedly injured and abused my Blackwings, though they had done nothing to hurt any of them? Or did you know that at Sanctuary, Timothy knocked me down and attempted to strangle me, and so began the battle?’

‘I— I can’t believe—’ Rhosmari stopped, flustered, and then tried again. ‘There must have been a reason.’

‘I offered Linden and her people a bargain,’ the Empress told her. ‘An opportunity for the Oakenfolk to get back the magic they had lost, and to live peacefully ever after under my protection. I assured her that I would not harm Timothy in any way, only erase his memories of the past few days so that he would not be tempted to meddle with my people again.’ She touched her throat, her expression sorrowful. ‘Ask yourself this: even if they did not wish to accept my offer, did that justify assaulting me and starting a war?’

There was more to the story. There had to be. And yet… Rhosmari put a hand to her forehead, her thoughts whirling. Could it be that the Empress was not so evil as she had been led to believe? That Timothy and Linden had misunderstood her, as Rhosmari herself had done?

No. Wait. She had not misunderstood one thing, at least. ‘You captured Llinos,’ she accused. ‘You made him your slave, and then you sent him out to find other rebels and capture them as well. What excuse do you have for that?’

The Empress and her lieutenants all exchanged glances. Then the Empress turned back to Rhosmari and said, ‘I beg your pardon. But who is Llinos?’

Disbelieving, Rhosmari darted her gaze from Corbin to Veronica to Byrne, then back to the Empress again. Their faces looked genuinely bewildered, without a hint of anger or guilt. ‘He was with Lily.’ she said. ‘One of your most loyal servants?’

‘Lily, loyal?’ Veronica almost choked on her soup with laughter. ‘After Rob, Lily was one of the first faeries to touch the Stone. She is as eager to overthrow the Empress and seize control of her realm as he is. And if this Llinos was with her, then you can be certain that he is one of the rebels as well.’

A chill crept up Rhosmari’s spine. So Martin had lied to her even about that?

‘Do not be unkind to her, Veronica,’ chided the Empress. ‘Can you not see that she is in shock? Obviously there has been a terrible misunderstanding.’

Rhosmari felt a sudden urge to say something that would throw the Empress off balance. If she could break through that charming veneer, even for an instant, she would know the truth. ‘Martin told me that beneath the glamour you wear, you are old and wrinkled,’ she said, and then for good measure, ‘He thinks that you were once human.’

But the Empress’s patient expression did not alter. ‘He is right,’ she said. ‘In my youth I lost a magical contest with a rival, who thought the best way to humiliate me was to turn me into a human and send me away, helpless and friendless, into the world. It was many years before I had the chance to regain my powers and become a faery again, and in that time I learned such things about human cruelty as I hope you will never know.’

Her eyes turned wistful as she brushed her fingers down her cheek. ‘Forgive me my vanity. Since my own beauty has been lost, I wear instead the face of my old mentor Snowdrop, the faery who first showed confidence in my abilities and taught me what it meant to be a queen. She died a long time ago, and to see her in the mirror now…is an inspiration to me.’

Rhosmari bowed her head, the last of her defiance fading. Slowly she unfolded the napkin from beside her plate and spread it out upon her lap; then she picked up her spoon, and began to eat.

‘My dear, you look tired,’ said the Empress the next morning when Rhosmari came down to breakfast. The Blackwings and Veronica had left the house early, so the two of them were alone. ‘Did you not sleep well? Would another bedroom be more to your liking?’

Mechanically Rhosmari helped herself to a pastry, a shake of the head her only answer. She had lain awake half the night trying to think of ways to escape from the Empress, and the other half wondering if she ought to. Every time she thought of a reason not to trust the Empress, she was reminded of all the reasons she could not trust the rebels either.

Garan had stolen the Stone and disgraced his own family. Timothy had a disturbing taste for violence – among other things, she now remembered, he had admitted to hitting another boy at school for no good reason at all. And Linden had got all her information about the Empress from Rob, who had deceived and betrayed the Empress much as Martin had deceived and betrayed Rhosmari. There was no one she could be sure of, not any more.

But she had not forgotten that for all the hospitality the Empress had shown her, she was still a prisoner. Mustering her courage, Rhosmari looked straight at the Empress and asked, ‘When will you let me go?’

‘Go where?’ asked the Empress. ‘To the rebels? Surely you understand I cannot allow that. It would be folly to give you into the hands of my enemies.’

‘Then—’ Rhosmari’s fingers clenched around her fork. ‘Let me go home, instead. If I leave at once, there might still be time to convince the others not to come looking for the Stone. They may be willing to talk to you instead, and come to an agreement—’

Then she stopped, struck by a new and unpleasant thought. What if the Children of Rhys joined forces with the Empress against the rebels? What would happen to Garan and his fellow exiles then?

‘Others?’ asked the Empress. ‘You mean that more of the Children of Rhys have followed you into my domain?’

‘Perhaps not yet,’ Rhosmari said hastily. ‘My – one of the Elders believed that it would take a large party of our people to convince the rebels to give up the Stone, but when I left nothing had been decided. So if you send me back right away—’

But the Empress shook her head. ‘I need you here,’ she said. ‘You are my only source of knowledge about the Children of Rhys, and there is still so much I want to learn. If your people come looking for you, and some of them are willing to negotiate – then perhaps I could afford to spare you. But I need to be sure I can rely on the Children of Rhys not to interfere in my affairs.’

So she was not just a prisoner and a slave, she was a hostage. ‘I see,’ said Rhosmari. ‘Please excuse me,’ and with that she got up from the table and left the room.

The Empress retired to her study after breakfast, though with the double doors closed and only the occasional creak or rustle coming from within, it was impossible to know exactly what she was doing there. After a few minutes Rhosmari gave up listening and retreated to her bedroom. But, as the morning wore on she was startled out of her reverie by thumping noises and loud, wracking sobs coming from the direction of the stairs. She threw open her door to find two strange faeries marching into the study, dragging a wild-eyed, struggling female between them. But before she could ask what they were doing, the double doors slammed shut.

Rhosmari retreated and sat numbly on the end of her bed as the distant cries and pleas escalated to a shriek – then ended in abrupt silence. Rhosmari’s stomach convulsed. What had the Empress done to the other faery? Had she turned her into a slave, or something even worse?

Dreading the answer, but determined to know it nonetheless, she watched the study doors closely for the next half-hour. But when the familiar sweet voice called, ‘Rhosmari, would you come here, please?’ and she rose to obey, she found no one in the study but herself and the Empress. The other faeries – or the two males at least – must have Leaped away.

‘You should not spend so much time brooding in your room,’ the Empress chided her. ‘You have the freedom of the house; why not visit the library, or admire the paintings? There are some fine landscapes in the drawing room, and some excellent portraits as well.’

Like the one of Philip Waverley?
Rhosmari wanted to ask, but held her tongue. The violence with which the painting had been destroyed made her think it might be dangerous even to mention it. Especially after what she had just heard.

‘You must have found all that commotion quite alarming,’ said the Empress, as though she had guessed Rhosmari’s thoughts. ‘I apologise for subjecting you to it, but there are still a considerable number of renegade faeries who left my service after the Battle of Sanctuary, and who have little to do other than wander about and cause trouble. Many come quietly once they are found, having realised that they were happier and better cared for under my rule. But others are…not as reasonable.’

She twisted a ringlet of hair around her finger, her gaze distant. Then she straightened up and said, ‘But never mind that. Go and explore the house, and see what you can find to amuse yourself, until I am ready to speak with you again.’

Put like that, it was an order. Hating her own unhesitating obedience, Rhosmari turned and left the study, shutting the doors behind her.

Outside Waverley Hall the rain was falling, forming little puddles on the gravel and coaxing the lawn into a deeper shade of green. Rhosmari sat by the window in the library, gazing listlessly at the neglected garden. She had tried to read, but every book she chose seemed to be little more than a chronicle of human misery, and her eyes refused to focus on the pages for long in any case.

After a few minutes the little dog – Isadora – crept across the muddy gravel, thinner and filthier than ever. It turned appealing eyes to Rhosmari and lay down facing the window, chin resting between its stubby front paws. Why was it here? The Empress did not even seem to know that it existed, and Sarah had pushed it away from the door as though it were a nuisance…