A Red-Rose Chain

This time, I took the lead, crossing the room and heading down the narrow hall with Tybalt so close at my heels that if I stopped, we were going to have a collision. I didn’t let it slow me down. The smell of blood and magic might be lingering now, but it wouldn’t last forever; it never did. If we were going to find Rhys, we needed to do it soon.

My hand went to my belt, instinctively reaching for the knife that wasn’t there, and I realized that I was unarmed. Of course I was unarmed: who takes someone hostage and conveniently gives them weapons? Rhys was a bastard and a butcher, but he wasn’t stupid. He never had been, except possibly in who he loved. If he hadn’t been so fond of the false Queen, he would never have declared war on the Mists—but then, he would never have been King, either. Maybe he thought it had all been worth it. I’d have to ask him, before I let Tybalt voice his displeasure with the hospitality we’d received.

The hall was long and dimly lit by sconces set near the top of the wall. Their pale, steady glow was enough to keep me from tripping or walking into anything, but only just; my night vision isn’t as good as a pureblood’s. I forced myself to keep walking confidently forward, following the blood trail. Rhys was going to ground. He wasn’t going to be slamming into walls while he did it.

The trail ended at another blank wall. “Let me through,” said Marlis. Tybalt and I stepped to the side, and she repeated her earlier trick, spreading her fingers against the wood and pushing inward until there was a click and the wall swung open. The smell of wine vinegar and meadowsweet was stronger on the other side. Marlis shook her head. “He’s been doing this for years. He teleports around the knowe like we would have built it without doors, and he never asks himself why a place that wasn’t meant for him would come so perfectly tailored to his abilities.”

“Sounds like a King to me,” I said, and stepped through the newly opened door before Tybalt could push in front of me.

The smell of blood was basically gone now, only providing the faintest of undercurrents to the much stronger scent of Rhys’ magic. It trailed after him like a string, and I followed it without hesitation, seeking the minotaur at the center of my own private labyrinth. I could feel the weakness in my knees and the lightness in my thoughts; if I didn’t finish this soon, my friends and allies were going to be finishing it without me. Even I have my limits. My body was cooperating for now, but that was more a matter of stubbornness and shock than anything else.

“This way,” I said, beckoning the others on. I was so focused on the trail I knew, the blood and magic and the promise of a conclusion, that I didn’t check my surroundings the way I should have. Tybalt would normally have caught the scent, but he didn’t have my skill at distinguishing blood from blood: I was covered in the stuff, and that was hiding Rhys’ scent from him. I stepped forward.

Rhys lunged out of an alcove to my left and grabbed me, his arm locking around my neck, pulling me backward into his chest. I gasped as the air was knocked out of me. Then I tensed, bracing for an impact that didn’t come. Tybalt was still standing exactly where he had been before, not making any move toward me or the man who held me. It didn’t make sense.

“Move, and I break her skin,” snarled Rhys. I tensed more, my eyes tracing the line of his arm until they reached his hand, and the arrow he was holding just above my shoulder.

Oh. That made sense after all.

“You don’t want to do this,” I said. “I’m a diplomat. Any act of aggression toward me is an act of aggression toward the Mists.”

“And I am a King,” spat Rhys. “You disgusting little bitch. You could have cleansed your own blood long ago, but instead you choose to remain mortal, and for what? So you can come here and taunt me with your filth, even as you plot my downfall? Stay back!” I felt him stiffen behind me.

Tybalt, who had been inching forward, stopped. “Let her go,” he said softly. “If you let her go, I will not pursue you when you run.”