A Red-Rose Chain

“Is this another kind of servants’ hall?” I asked.

Quentin nodded. “It’s a shallow standing illusion, like the kind we use to hide the mouths of some knowes, only it’s designed to remain static and buffered from the dawn, so it doesn’t take regular recasting. Coblynau work, probably. It’s usually part of the heating system, since air moves through but light doesn’t.”

“Sound also moves through,” hissed Marlis, shoving between us. Her left arm was cradled close to her body, and the smell of blood was getting stronger. “Please, be quiet.”

“If you wanted us to be quiet, you shouldn’t have pulled us through a wall,” I whispered. “Why didn’t you just come to our quarters?”

“Because I would have been seen. I’m sorry I had to intercept you this way, but I needed you to come with me, and this was the only method I had of contacting you without endangering us all.”

Right. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but startling Tybalt is absolutely a good way to endanger yourself,” I whispered. “Your arm needs medical attention.”

Marlis glanced at her wounded arm like she was seeing it for the first time. Then she shook her head, a small, wry smile creasing her lips. “Time was that bleeding in these halls would have been a signal to the Cu Sidhe and the Cait Sidhe and the Huldra that there was something wrong. Now it’s just an inconvenience. Come with me.” She turned on her heel and walked off down the hall.

Tybalt, Quentin, and I exchanged a glance. Tybalt raised an eyebrow, apparently leaving the decision of whether or not to follow entirely in my hands. Swell. I do so love being the one who has to choose to follow the maybe-ally, maybe-enemy people down dark hallways.

“Root and branch, I hate my life sometimes,” I muttered, and stalked after her. My skirt snagged on the heel of my shoe. I grabbed the fabric in both hands, yanking it upward until my knees were exposed and my walking was unimpeded. I might not have looked very dignified, but I wasn’t going to eat floor.

The light from the single globe faded behind us, only to be replaced by a dim glow from up ahead. I could make out Marlis, but barely: she was more shadow than woman, sketched on the fabric of the world. The light grew brighter as we walked, and Marlis continued to move up ahead, never coming fully back into the light. It was enough to make me nervous, but it was too late now; if we exited these narrow hallways, I didn’t know where in the knowe we would reappear. With my luck, it would be inside King Rhys’ private chambers, or worse, in front of his guards. We’d find ourselves arrested for treason a second time, and this time, it would stick.

Marlis stopped walking. She was easily twenty feet ahead of us by that point, and it took a few seconds before we caught up. A large door blocked the hallway, barring us from going any further. There was no knob or keyhole: its only feature was a gold plate set where the peephole should have been. Marlis turned, studying the three of us, before peering down the hall behind us, eyes narrowed, like she was looking for signs that we were being followed.

“Sir Daye, I apologize for placing demands upon you, but I understand that you are skilled at the art of wind-reading,” she said, in a low, deferential tone. “Can you please taste the air, and tell me whether we are alone?”

I blinked at her. “I’ve never heard anyone call it that,” I said. Then I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, breathing in deeply as I looked for signs that we weren’t alone.