But he did not know how to use a knife.
It dropped with a ringing clang to the floor. Mouse flew to the window, drew back the heavy curtains, and looked out. No use! The earl’s room overlooked the inner courtyard. Even if it weren’t three stories up, there would be no escape that way. The monster below stood in the center of a nightmarish horde. Men, women, and children were being dragged before him and forced to their knees.
Mouse let the curtain drop. He couldn’t watch whatever horror was taking place outside.
“Come out, little mouse! Come out and play!”
The great door rattled on its hinges. The iron bolt buckled, ready to give.
The boy wheeled about and grabbed a tapestry down from the wall. Cumbersome though the dense fabric was, it could do no good against that assault. But Mouse could not stand there and do nothing, and there was little else he could lift in the room. Jumping over the prone Alistair, he added the tapestry to his pile.
He did not notice the heavy door the tapestry had covered. And he did not, above the din of the onslaught, hear the croak and groan of its hinges. He was aware of none of this until a voice he had never heard before spoke behind him.
“I say, Imraldera, old thing, what by Lumé’s crown are you doing here? You let the Faerie Circle open! You let goblins into—”
Mouse screamed and swung about. An orange cat as large as a spaniel, tail raised in a questioning curl, stood in the dark doorway of the earl’s secret passage. Golden eyes fixed upon the boy. They were not animal eyes. They were more sentient than those of most humans.
The cat drew back his lips, and it was a man’s voice that fell from his mouth. “You’re not Imraldera!” he growled, leaping into the room. “Who are you?”
The bolt broke.
The washbasin, chest, and tapestry flew across the room as the door burst open, knocking Mouse from his feet. He landed atop prone Lord Alistair, his eyes unseeing, his ears unhearing in the overwhelming rush of terror. He felt the reverberation of goblin footsteps upon the stone, smelled the stench of goblin breath and goblin death.
With a yeowl like a panther, the cat leapt forward, flinging himself at the goblins. Mouse scrambled up from the floor and pounced for the knife he’d dropped. His hands grasped the hilt, and he spun about, prepared to defend himself to the last. But he saw a man, a tall golden man dressed in scarlet. In his hand was a long knife, darting like claws. Unlike the blades of the housecarls in the courtyard, his weapon pierced the goblins’ armor. Though they towered over him and must each have doubled his weight, he spun and darted, avoiding their stone swords and dealing wounds upon their rock hides. They screamed and Mouse heard one cry: “It’s the knight! The gate guarder!”
They retreated, howling, and the golden man pursued them into the passage. For one moment, Mouse believed he had gone for good. But the next, he sprang back into the room, his eyes wide and his hair bristling. He slammed the door, though the bolt was broken and it could provide no fortification. Growling, he took hold of a tall wardrobe and, without any apparent strain, pulled it on its side across the doorway. It would provide pause against whatever force with which the goblins returned.
Then he turned on Mouse.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
Mouse fell to his knees. “Please, please, glorious one!” he cried. “You must help us!”
The stranger trod on Alistair’s hand as he crossed the room. His knife upraised threateningly, he glared down at Mouse. “I am not glorious,” he said, and then he sniffed, his nose wrinkling. “Where is Imraldera? I smell her on you.”
Mouse cringed away like a cowering puppy before a lion. “Please!” he cried. “The Silent Lady is held prisoner beneath the Citadel of the Living Fire!”
“What?” Deftly sheathing the knife, the stranger grabbed Mouse by the shoulder of his tunic and dragged him to his feet. “I left her at the Haven to guard the gates in my absence, and I return to find goblins breaking through to the Near World, and you’re going to gibber about some citadel ?”
“She’s there, sir! I swear!” Mouse cried. “She sent me to find Etanun of the Faerie folk! She sent me to bring back Etanun’s heir!”
“Nonsense,” Eanrin snarled. “Imraldera wouldn’t leave the gates unguarded, and she hasn’t—”
The door rattled, and the heavy wardrobe inched away, leaving a crack opening. A great goblin hand struggled through, tearing at the rock wall. “Come out, little knight!” one of them roared. “Come out and face our brothers!”
Mouse shrieked, straining against the stranger’s hold. “Help me!” he cried. “Help me get out, and I will explain everything!”