A Red-Rose Chain

“Here,” she said briskly. “Put these on the wheels of your wagon, and be quick about it. His Majesty doesn’t like things cluttering up the hall.”


That certainly explained the lack of knickknacks and portraits: aside from the velvet draperies in the throne room, the knowe seemed to be entirely undecorated. “Is this an extension of that whole ‘flying on yarrow branches’ trick I’ve seen some Tylwyth Teg do?” I asked. “I didn’t know you could use it on things other than yourselves.”

“Some of us have to work for what we receive in this world, miss,” said Marlis. “Some of us have to find ways of making that work easier.” She looked back to May and Quentin. Seeing that they had looped the wreaths over the hubs of both wagon wheels, she raised her hand and chanted a quick phrase in Welsh. The smell of ice and milfoil rose in the air around the wagon, which began to lift away from the ground.

May let go of her handle. Quentin did the same, releasing the wagon barely a second before Spike made a mighty leap and landed squarely in the middle of our luggage. It rode there, chirping jubilantly, as the wagon floated up to the top of the stairs and settled on the landing.

“Roller coasters for rose goblins,” I said, as mildly as I could. The smell of Marlis’ magic was still lingering in the air. I sniffed it, shooting Walther a sidelong look. His magic smelled of ice and common yarrow. Hers was ice and milfoil—otherwise known as fernleaf yarrow. With magical signatures that similar, there was no way they weren’t related, and yet she hadn’t looked at him any more critically than she’d looked at the rest of us. Something was going on here, and I didn’t like not knowing what it was.

“This way,” said Marlis, and followed our wagon’s trail up the stairs. The rest of us were close behind her, with me in the lead and Tybalt bringing up the rear. He’d be able to defend against any surprise attacks that way. Not that I was actually expecting King Rhys to go for us this soon—if he’d been planning an immediate double cross, I doubted that he would have let us past the front gates. It’s much easier to get rid of unwanted guests when you can say, honestly, that they never set foot inside your knowe. Besides, there was a lot of forest in Silences. That meant a lot of places to hide the bodies.

The upstairs hall was as stark and unornamented as the downstairs. The walls lacked the filigree and carving I was accustomed to in most noble knowes. Walther looked faintly sickened when he glanced at the places where the walls met the ceiling and floor, which probably meant that there had been decorative carvings here, once. Why Rhys would have had those removed while leaving the fountain and throne was anybody’s guess.

We walked through a pair of tall double doors and into a wider hallway. This one had a plush carpet patterned in pine green and rose red covering the floor, instantly muffling our footsteps. The doors swung shut behind us. Marlis kept walking, until we were halfway down the hall, where she stopped at a door set into a particularly ornate frame. It was carved with pine boughs and roses, and looked almost ridiculously out of place against its austere surroundings.

“The visitor’s suite is through here,” she said. “I apologize if it is finer than you’re accustomed to, but you left us little choice, with the size of your party. The main room is yours to do with as you like. I suggest your lady’s maid be given the room off the master bedroom, as King Rhys insists upon certain standards at his court functions.” There was an oddly pleading note to that sentence, like she was telling us more than she was strictly allowed.

“Cool,” I said. “Is there anything else we need to know?”

If I’d been hoping for more rule bending from her, I was going to be disappointed. Marlis shook her head. “No, miss,” she said. “Simply come when you are called, and communicate your situation clearly and without prejudice. I think you will find King Rhys to be a generous and compassionate ruler, and you will soon come to understand the reasons for his indignation.”