under the arms and pulled her out of her saddle. Archer, rigid and shaking, looking and feeling like he wanted to kill her. Then Archer went bright, and turned to black.
CHAPTER SEVEN
S HE WOKE TO stinging pain, and to the sense of a hostile mind moving down the corridor outside her room. A stranger’s mind. She tried to sit up, and gasped.
‘You should rest,’ a woman said from a chair along the wall. Roen’s healer.
Fire ignored the advice and pushed herself up gingerly. ‘My horse?’
‘Your horse is in about the same shape you’re in,’ the healer said. ‘He’ll live.’
‘The soldiers? Did any of them die?’
‘Every man made it into the tunnel alive,’ she said. ‘A good many monsters died.’
Fire sat still, waiting for the pounding of her head to slow, so that she could get up and investigate the suspicious mind in the hallway. ‘How badly am I wounded?’
‘You’ll have scars on your back and your shoulders and under your hair for the rest of your life. But we have all the medicines here that they have in King’s City. You’ll heal cleanly, without infection.’
‘Can I walk?’
‘I don’t recommend it; but if you must, you can.’
‘I just need to check on something,’ she said, breathless from the effort of sitting. ‘Will you help me into my robe?’ And then, noticing the skimpy sheath she wore: ‘Did Lord Archer see my wrists?’
The woman came to Fire with a soft, white robe and helped her to hang it over her burning shoulders. ‘Lord Archer hasn’t been in.’
Fire decided to focus on the agony of putting her arms into her sleeves, rather than trying to calculate how furious Archer must be, if he hadn’t even been in.
T HEMIND SHE sensed was near, unguarded, and consumed with some underhanded purpose. All good reasons for it to have drawn Fire’s attention, though she wasn’t certain what she hoped to achieve by limping down this corridor in pursuit of it, willing to absorb whatever emotions it leaked accidentally but unwilling to take hold of it and plumb it for its true intentions.
It was a guilty mind, furtive.
She could not ignore it. I’ll just follow, she thought to herself. I’ll see where he goes.
She was astonished a moment later when a servant girl observing her progress stopped and offered an arm.
‘My husband was at the back of that charge, Lady Fire,’ the girl said. ‘You saved his life.’
Fire hobbled down the hallway on the arm of the girl, happy to have saved someone’s life if it meant that now she had a person to keep her from flopping onto the floor. Every step brought her closer to her strange quarry. ‘Wait,’ she whispered finally, leaning against the wall. ‘Whose rooms are behind this wall?’
‘The king’s, Lady Fire.’
Fire knew with utter certainty then that a man was in the king’s compartments who should not be. Haste, fear of discovery, panic: it all came to her.
A confrontation was beyond her current strength even to consider; and then down the hall, in his own room, she sensed Archer. She grasped the servant girl’s arm. ‘Run to Queen Roen and tell her a man is in the king’s rooms who has no place there,’ she said.
‘Yes, Lady. Thank you, Lady,’ the girl said, and scampered away. Fire continued down the hallway alone.
When she reached Archer’s room she leaned in his doorway. He stood at the window and stared into the covered courtyard, his back to her. She tapped on his mind.
His shoulders stiffened. He spun around and stalked toward her, not once looking at her. He brushed past her and stormed on down the hall. The surprise of it made her dizzy.
It was for the best. She was not in a state to face him, if he was as angry as that.
She went into his room and sat on a chair, just for a moment, to still her throbbing head.
IT TOOK HER ages to get to the stables, despite a number of helping hands; and when she saw Small she couldn’t stop herself. She began to cry.
‘Now,
CHAPTER SEVEN
S HE WOKE TO stinging pain, and to the sense of a hostile mind moving down the corridor outside her room. A stranger’s mind. She tried to sit up, and gasped.
‘You should rest,’ a woman said from a chair along the wall. Roen’s healer.
Fire ignored the advice and pushed herself up gingerly. ‘My horse?’
‘Your horse is in about the same shape you’re in,’ the healer said. ‘He’ll live.’
‘The soldiers? Did any of them die?’
‘Every man made it into the tunnel alive,’ she said. ‘A good many monsters died.’
Fire sat still, waiting for the pounding of her head to slow, so that she could get up and investigate the suspicious mind in the hallway. ‘How badly am I wounded?’
‘You’ll have scars on your back and your shoulders and under your hair for the rest of your life. But we have all the medicines here that they have in King’s City. You’ll heal cleanly, without infection.’
‘Can I walk?’
‘I don’t recommend it; but if you must, you can.’
‘I just need to check on something,’ she said, breathless from the effort of sitting. ‘Will you help me into my robe?’ And then, noticing the skimpy sheath she wore: ‘Did Lord Archer see my wrists?’
The woman came to Fire with a soft, white robe and helped her to hang it over her burning shoulders. ‘Lord Archer hasn’t been in.’
Fire decided to focus on the agony of putting her arms into her sleeves, rather than trying to calculate how furious Archer must be, if he hadn’t even been in.
T HEMIND SHE sensed was near, unguarded, and consumed with some underhanded purpose. All good reasons for it to have drawn Fire’s attention, though she wasn’t certain what she hoped to achieve by limping down this corridor in pursuit of it, willing to absorb whatever emotions it leaked accidentally but unwilling to take hold of it and plumb it for its true intentions.
It was a guilty mind, furtive.
She could not ignore it. I’ll just follow, she thought to herself. I’ll see where he goes.
She was astonished a moment later when a servant girl observing her progress stopped and offered an arm.
‘My husband was at the back of that charge, Lady Fire,’ the girl said. ‘You saved his life.’
Fire hobbled down the hallway on the arm of the girl, happy to have saved someone’s life if it meant that now she had a person to keep her from flopping onto the floor. Every step brought her closer to her strange quarry. ‘Wait,’ she whispered finally, leaning against the wall. ‘Whose rooms are behind this wall?’
‘The king’s, Lady Fire.’
Fire knew with utter certainty then that a man was in the king’s compartments who should not be. Haste, fear of discovery, panic: it all came to her.
A confrontation was beyond her current strength even to consider; and then down the hall, in his own room, she sensed Archer. She grasped the servant girl’s arm. ‘Run to Queen Roen and tell her a man is in the king’s rooms who has no place there,’ she said.
‘Yes, Lady. Thank you, Lady,’ the girl said, and scampered away. Fire continued down the hallway alone.
When she reached Archer’s room she leaned in his doorway. He stood at the window and stared into the covered courtyard, his back to her. She tapped on his mind.
His shoulders stiffened. He spun around and stalked toward her, not once looking at her. He brushed past her and stormed on down the hall. The surprise of it made her dizzy.
It was for the best. She was not in a state to face him, if he was as angry as that.
She went into his room and sat on a chair, just for a moment, to still her throbbing head.
IT TOOK HER ages to get to the stables, despite a number of helping hands; and when she saw Small she couldn’t stop herself. She began to cry.
‘Now,
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