Chimes at Midnight

I had time to see the startled look on the first guard’s face before Dianda hit him in the throat, the sort of sucker punch that made it impossible for him to do anything but fall down. I grabbed his spear as he fell, whipping around and swinging it toward the other side of the door. Momentum turned me to face the second guard just as the haft of the spear hit her across the belly. The air rushed out of her as a loud grunt. Dianda promptly punched her three times in the face, and she went down beside her partner.

The door to the dungeons swung shut with a disturbingly final-sounding bang. Tybalt was down there, alone with the night-haunts. We had to hurry.

“Amateurs,” scoffed Dianda, and crouched to begin searching the fallen guards. “I’ve got a short sword here.”

“I’ll keep the spear,” I said.

“Suit yourself.” Dianda straightened, belting the guard’s sword around her waist as she held up a key ring. “Do you know how to get to the main receiving room?”

“That way.” I pointed.

“Good. Which way is the armory?”

I pointed again, in the opposite direction.

“Even better.” Dianda started toward the armory, bare feet slapping against the stone floor. “The treasury is likely to be near the place where they keep the weapons, but still reasonably close to where Court is held. That makes it accessible but defensible, and means the dungeon is nice and easy to get to if someone tries to rob you.”

“Logic in knowe-building. All right.” I followed, watching for signs of attack. The halls were quiet around us, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Even after years of dealing with her, I didn’t have any idea how big the Queen’s Court actually was. It could have been huge, staffed on a scale with the knowe she claimed. It could also have been tiny. She usually kept visitors confined to the main hall, and that meant she could have been doing everything with no more than twenty people.

“So Arden’s claim is declared, huh? Good. I’ve been looking forward to a brawl.” Dianda’s tone was casual, but her cheeks were flushed with spots of hectic red. “How’s Dean?”

“He and Patrick are both fine,” I said. “The Queen only arrested you.”

“Thank Oberon for that.” Dianda kept walking. “What are we doing, exactly?”

“We’re breaking into the Queen’s treasury so I can find the hope chest I gave her when Evening died,” I said. “That’ll let me change my blood back to normal, so I can save Tybalt.”

“I have no idea what any of that means, but it all sounds very epic and important, so I’m sure it’ll work.” Dianda wiped her forehead with the back of one hand. “And then I’m going to kick that white-haired usurper’s ass from here to Atlantis.”

“Just hold on to that,” I said, watching her anxiously. She was showing the classic symptoms of iron poisoning. Walther could treat that, but only if I could get her to him—and if she keeled over, I wasn’t going to be getting her anywhere.

Footsteps up ahead cut off any further conversation. Two more of the Queen’s guards came around the corner, stopping when they saw us. I threw my spear at the guard on the left. It bounced harmlessly off his chest, but it was a distraction. It bought us a few seconds. I drew my knives and Dianda drew her sword. Then, with no more civility than that, we charged.

The first guard never got a chance to do anything. Dianda’s swing caught him in the side of the head, the pommel of her sword impacting hard against bone. The second guard was faster. I slashed at him and he dodged, before swinging his own sword at my side. It was a good hit, the kind of thing Sylvester had tried—and failed—to teach me to avoid before I learned to depend on my own ability to recover from any nonmortal injury. The blade cut deep before it was withdrawn, and the smell of blood flooded my nostrils.

The guard pulled back for another swing. I summoned every bit of training I’d ever had, using it to dodge the hit that would have ended the fight for good, and pressed my iron knife against his throat. He froze.

“Drop the sword,” I said. It clattered to the hallway floor. “Which way to the treasury?”

“I will not betray—” he began.

“She’s not your Queen,” I snarled. “She’s a fake, and the real Queen is finally here. You’re betraying nothing, and you’re saving yourself from death by iron. Oberon’s Law doesn’t bind me. I’m too human for that, and it’s your beloved pretender’s fault. Now. Which way is the treasury?”

Something in my eyes must have told him I was serious. He raised one shaking hand, pointing back the way he’d come. I nodded.

“How many men are guarding the doors?”

“Two,” he whispered.

“Good answer.” I let go as Dianda hit him in the back of the head, sending him crumpling to the floor. I nudged his body with a toe. He didn’t move. “Did you just kill him?”

“No, but he’ll wish I had when he wakes up.” Dianda looked at me, and her eyes widened. “Toby, you’re bleeding.”