Black Night
Page 34

 Christina Henry

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I still hesitated, and Nathaniel read my hesitation correctly.
“It is a gift freely given. There will be no price to pay. I ask only that, if you return from the Maze, you think better of me. You cannot know how I regret what occurred last night,” he said.
I didn’t think I’d be thinking any better of his character anytime soon, and it was difficult for me to reconcile his apparent regret with the terror and helplessness I’d felt. Even if there was a strong possibility that he had been under a spell, the memory would stay with me forever.
But I appreciated any help I could get surviving the Maze, even if I didn’t know the first thing about swordplay. I just hoped that I wouldn’t cut off one of my own limbs accidentally.
“Thank you,” I said, and I reached for the sword.
As soon as the hilt met my palm, I felt something deep inside me sing out with joy. The snake seemed to writhe against my skin, and the blade noticeably gleamed brighter.
“It recognizes you,” Nathaniel said softly. “It has been waiting for you.”
There was a power surging in my blood, a power that had been buried so deep that only the sword could have drawn it from me. I looked up, and Nathaniel gasped.
“Your eyes,” he said.
I turned my head toward the mirror, and instead of the field of stars that manifested when I wielded my magic, I saw the burning heart of the sun, the light of the Morningstar.
“I think that when Focalor sees you, he will think twice about crossing Lord Lucifer,” Nathaniel said.
“Never mind Lucifer,” I said, and the new power inside me called out for battle. “He’d better worry about crossing me.”
15
NATHANIEL FITTED ME UP WITH A SCABBARD THAT slung across my body so that I could carry the sword on my back. Despite my growing suspicion that someone had been controlling Nathaniel during his attack, it was difficult to stand still while he touched me. Whether by his own power or another’s he was the one who had put his hands on me with the intent to harm.
When he was done—with a lot of apologies on his part and a lot of indrawn breaths on mine—he made me practice my draw.
“Better swordsmen than you have cut their own necks drawing their swords this way,” he said. “But you are so small that you would not comfortably be able to carry the blade at your waist.”
Despite my total lack of experience the sword leapt to my hand easily and smoothly every time.
Nathaniel stood back, satisfied. “It is coming to your call. That is good. It will help you when you face the unknown.”
There was a knock at the door, and I opened it. A servant stood there.
“Queen Amarantha requires your presence in the throne room, Ambassador Black.”
I glanced back at Nathaniel. “Showtime. Are you coming?”
He shook his head. He looked tired, and sad, and in pain, and I didn’t know how to feel about that. “Go with the grace of the Morningstar.”
I nodded, and then followed the servant to the throne room.
I tried not to think about what was going to happen. Nathaniel’s gift had given me a little more confidence, but the odds still did not look good. The fact that no one had ever survived the Maze was something I tried not to think about.
The courtiers were assembled when I entered the throne room. The wolves stood near Amarantha’s throne at the front of the crowd. Wade looked deeply troubled, Jude frowned like he wasn’t sure about how to feel, and James . . . There was a strange, almost bloodthirsty, light in his eyes.
I didn’t have time to wonder about the wolves’ feelings. I had my own skin to worry about.
I crossed the room, and as I passed the courtiers they whispered.
“Did you see her eyes?”
“Where did she get that sword?”
Focalor and Antares stood in front of Amarantha’s throne and they both turned to watch me approach. When Focalor saw my eyes, his jaw clenched, and I thought I saw a flash of fear in his demon eyes. Antares was too stupid to be worried about any threat from me. He looked pathetically eager.
I saw J.B. and Beezle standing a little to the side. Beezle rested on J.B.’s shoulder and I felt a strange pang of hurt. Beezle never did that with anybody but me. J.B. looked like he was going to be sick.
Amarantha clapped her hands together in satisfaction when she saw me. I was happy to see that she had put on something more substantial than the lingerie model getup she’d had on earlier, although the dress’s low cut still didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. Subtle, thy name is not Amarantha.
Gabriel was nowhere to be seen. I wondered if he was being punished for defying Amarantha earlier, or if she just didn’t want him anywhere near me before I went into the Maze.
“Ambassador Black, you will be pleased to hear that Lord Focalor has agreed to participate in the challenge of the Maze. His representative Antares will be entering the Maze with you.”
“Big surprise,” I muttered.
“The terms are as follows,” Amarantha continued. “Ambassador Black will enter from the east side of the Maze. Antares ap Azazel will enter from the west side at precisely the same time. The thrall Gabriel ap Ramuell is held at the center of the maze. Whoever reaches the thrall first will take him as their prize. Once you have successfully returned with your prize, I will commence negotiations with the winning court. Are these terms acceptable to you both?”
Focalor nodded. “I look forward to negotiating a treaty with you, my lady.”
So Focalor seemed to have gotten his confidence back. Apparently a little power of Lucifer manifesting inside me wasn’t enough to worry him.
“Are the terms acceptable to you, Ambassador Black?” Amarantha said.
“I have one term of my own,” I said.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw J.B. close his eyes in frustration. Well, I wasn’t going to get anything without asking for it, and even if I managed to get out of the Maze alive and with Gabriel, there was still the Focalor problem to deal with. The least I could do was to make this contest about more than Gabriel. If I could stop the demon uprising, then it was worth any amount of pain I might endure.
I turned to Focalor, who quirked his eyebrows at me, as if to say, “I’m listening.”
“If I find Gabriel before Antares and make it back here first, you drop your grievance against Lucifer.”
Focalor narrowed his eyes. “My grievance with Lucifer is long-standing and far-reaching. Why should I sacrifice my legitimate claim against him?”
“If a representative of your court is defeated by a representative of his—or vice versa—is that not enough to satisfy the laws of the kingdom without further bloodshed?”
Focalor showed his teeth to me. “You are implying that further bloodshed is something I wish to avoid.”
“Do you agree or not?” I said impatiently. “You seem to think I’m going to lose anyway so why not consent? If Antares comes back first, you get to be as mad at Lucifer as you want to be.”
He looked thoughtful. “But what if you come back first, as unlikely a possibility as that may be?”
“Then you go back to your court, apologize to Lucifer and hope like hell he doesn’t smite you off the face of the earth.”
“That is not a very appealing option,” Focalor said.
“Just stop dithering and be a man about it,” I said, impatient to get into the Maze. I wanted to get this over with. “Yes or no?”
Focalor took a moment longer, seeming to weigh all the options. I could see him calculating the long odds that I would actually survive the Maze.
“Very well,” he said.
“You have witnessed it, Queen Amarantha,” I said formally. “If I defeat his representative in the Maze, then Focalor will drop his grievance against Lucifer and return to the fold.”
Like Amarantha, Focalor would agree to anything because he didn’t think I actually had a chance. Then again, Beezle didn’t think I had a chance either. He was usually my biggest cheerleader, so maybe they were right and I was wrong.
Amarantha nodded. “And you agree to all terms as well?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Then let us proceed,” she said, and signaled to Violet. “You may follow Lady Violet to the entrance, Ambassador. Antares ap Azazel, you may follow Narke.”
One of the forest warriors stepped forward to take Antares out a side entrance. Violet indicated that I should follow her out of the main doors.
I looked at Beezle and J.B., but they both looked away from me. All right, that hurt a lot. The least they could do was say good-bye if they thought I was going to die.
I turned my back on the throne, and followed Violet to my doom.
Violet led me through the courtyard and out into the forest without a word. She found a path among the thick and low-hanging branches that I couldn’t have seen with a microscope. She didn’t try to make conversation and I was too busy trying not to hyperventilate to act polite.
After about twenty minutes of hard walking, we suddenly emerged into a clearing, and in front of us was the Maze.
A massive wall of stone rose in front of us, blocking out the weak early-winter sun. I realized I’d forgotten a coat and that it was maybe forty degrees outside.
The wall was covered in strange grayish green vines with enormous leaves. As I looked, the vines shifted like snakes across the surface of the wall. J.B. was right. The Maze was a living thing, and a faint pulse of energy came off it as we stood there: the questing tentacle of a blind animal.
The pulse moved through me from the tips of my sneakers to the crown of my head, and I shivered uncomfortably. I felt exposed, like my chest had been peeled back to show my beating heart.
A moment later an opening appeared in the wall of the Maze. The interior was dark and shifting, and I could see nothing beyond the doorway.
I stepped forward. “Okay, I guess this is my stop.”
Violet didn’t answer. I looked around and saw that she had already disappeared back into the forest.
J.B. could do a lot better than her. Seriously.