Another pause. Then Alistair took Mouse’s hand and pulled gently.
“Wait! What are you doing?” she whispered frantically.
“Dragons eat it,” he muttered. “I’d hoped we were thinking along the same lines. Look, we can sit here until we rot, waiting for that cat to come back, or we can act on the information we have. Always was more a man of action myself. Come on!”
Mouse, however reluctant, followed his tugging, and they crept on up the stairs, moving as quietly as they could past the goblins in the room beyond. The passage opened into his uncle’s bedchamber, Alistair recalled. What he could not recall was whether or not they’d be able to get through that heavy door, which as he remembered it, was under lock and key. Were there other exits? Via the stables or some spy hole, perhaps?
He drew a sudden, hissing breath as Mouse’s hands clamped down hard on his arm. “Listen!” she said in a strangled whisper, and he didn’t need to understand her.
The sound of footsteps descending the stairway thudded in his ears. Heavy footsteps.
A goblin was in the passage.
“Back! Back!” Alistair whispered, and the two of them stumbled down the stairway, slipping as they went.
The thudding steps gained upon them, and a thick, gnarly voice growled, “I see you, blind little mortals! I see you in the dark!”
Mouse whimpered, lost her footing, and slid down the stairs, tripping Alistair. He caught himself, pressing his hands on either wall, preventing a plummet into darkness. He heard the goblin’s breathing behind him, could feel before it happened strong fingers latching hold of his neck. The snap, the break . . .
Instead, there was a dreadful thud, a groan, and then Alistair was knocked from his feet as the goblin, inert, rolled down the stairs. Its great body wedged into the narrow space, providing just enough buffer to prevent Alistair from tumbling interminably to his doom.
“Didn’t I tell you to wait for me?” Eanrin’s voice snapped like sparks.
Alistair, his legs pinioned beneath the heavy goblin, felt around. His hand landed on Mouse’s face, and both of them struggled not to scream. But the girl was all right, and her fumbling hands took hold of his arms and pulled, unable to free him of the goblin’s weight.
Eanrin, who could see perfectly well, stood above them, his knife upraised. He shook his head and snapped his fingers. The knife began to glow softly, enough to allow the humans dim vision in the stairway. The light outlined the contours of the goblin’s hideous face. Mouse pressed her hands to her mouth. A black trail of blood ran from the goblin’s head.
“Is he dead?” Mouse demanded when she could find her voice. She turned stricken eyes to Eanrin. “Did you kill him?”
“Would it bother you?” asked the cat-man, descending the stairs and stepping over the prone body.
“Yes,” she said, though she knew it was foolish. After all, the monster would have slaughtered both her and Alistair. Nevertheless, she repeated, “Yes, it would bother me.”
“Then he’s unconscious,” said Eanrin, and Mouse never knew whether he lied. The cat-man tossed her something he’d held draped over one arm, and it fell over her head like a heavy net. She scrabbled to get it off while Eanrin helped Alistair to his feet.
“The great hall,” Alistair said as he scrambled up and leaned against the wall. “We heard some of them talking. They’ve got the Chronicler in the great hall.”
“I know,” said the cat. “I found him. Here, help me strip down this goblin.”
“What for?”
“We have a plan now.”
“We do?”
“Yes indeed,” said the cat-man with a grin. “You’re a big enough chap. You’ll pass for a small man of Arpiar.”
“You expect me to disguise myself as a goblin?”
“Certainly do.”
“And what about Mouse? Is she supposed to sit here while we risk our necks?”
“Oh, I have a different plan for her.”
Mouse, who didn’t understand the conversation taking place, turned her attention to the brocade Eanrin had thrown at her. She held it up for inspection.
It was a gown.
13
I WAS CROWNED WITH MAHUIZOA’S CROWN on the peak of Omeztli, the Moon Tower. Kings and queens, lords and ladies, Faerie masters of many far demesnes came for my coronation, and Cozamaloti permitted their passing. I was small on the throne of my mother, and the crown was heavy upon my head. But I felt the surge of Etalpalli itself inside me, and I knew I would see my city rebuilt to the glory it had known before Cren Cru’s coming.
I saw the Brothers Ashiun standing quietly among the brilliant throng of fey folk, their weapons quiet at their sides. When the coronation feasting was at its height, they came to me and drew me aside.
“Reign long and well, Queen of Etalpalli,” Akilun said, then kissed my hand and departed.