"I'm touched that you care." Adriana rolled her eyes, and took a seat on one of the battered stools.
"So what do we do now?" asked Manny, still standing in the middle of the room. There was nothing in here he wanted to touch.
"I'm thinking," replied Etienne, still pacing.
"Don't you have any kind of Sidhe ability?" Manny asked, even though he knew he sounded a little desperate. "Something that can help us escape?"
"Yes, now, wouldn't that be rather convenient," said Gaudulfus, his hands behind his head, his eyes closed. "Maybe you can produce a lock pick out of your nose, or a goodly amount of black powder out of your bum so we can blow the door to splinters."
Adriana chuckled, which earned her a frown from Etienne. "You're a thief," he said. "Do you have any lock picks secreted somewhere on your person?"
She patted her clothing. "Sorry, I seem to have put all my secret lock picks in my other vest. And that search was rather thorough."
Manny shifted uneasily, certain he saw something moving stealthily under the straw. To distract himself, he said to Etienne, "If only you had your crystal sword."
"Hah!" Gaudulfus waved a hand dismissively. "For all the good that fancy bit of Fae glass would do us."
"What do you mean?" Manny said, startled. "I thought it was magic." He was pretty sure it was magic, at least from the way it looked when he had watched Etienne fight the duel.
Etienne stopped pacing and turned to face him. As if reluctant to explain, he said, "Amechanteur is an enchanted blade, but it wouldn't help us escape, no more so than an ordinary sword."
Manny could tell Etienne didn't want to talk about it, but he had to ask. "What does it do? Besides skewer people, I mean."
Etienne said, "It's an ancient Fae weapon, said to have great power—"
"Don't fill the lad's head with such nonsense," Gaudulfus grumbled.
"Do me the courtesy of remaining silent, Gaudulfus," snapped Etienne.
The dwarf shrugged, then crossed his hands over his chest and pretended to settle in to sleep.
Etienne took a deep breath before continuing. "It was forged over a thousand years ago by King Oberon himself, and was given to King Childeric IX as part of the treaty that ended the Hundred Year War and brought peace to Albion and Aquitania. It was a mighty gift and proof that Oberon truly wanted friendship between his subjects and the people of Aquitania, Sidhe and human alike."
Manny frowned, confused. "Okay, so what great power does it have?"
"In a time of great need, it awakens and sings." Etienne's gaze was on the far wall of the cell, his expression distracted, as if he saw something else past the dirty stone. "But only when wielded by a swordsman whose cause is just and whose heart is true. The spirit of the blade bonds with the soul of that swordsman and he becomes a Blade Singer, a champion without equal."
Gaudulfus cleared his throat loudly and rolled onto his side, his back to the room.
"Why do you have it?" Manny asked, then thought, Okay, that didn't come out right. "Not that you aren't a champion without equal, I mean, but..."
Etienne straightened, his chin lifting. "It was a reward from His Majesty, a gift for saving his life during the War of Supremacy."
"This king? The one that's in danger?" asked Manny.
"No, his father, Clovis VI," replied Etienne. "After King Oberon's assassination, King Clovis threw his support behind Queen Gloriana during her struggle against her sister Mab for the throne of Albion. The violent civil war that followed almost tore Albion apart. Mab would have won the crown had we not mustered to the defense of the fair Gloriana." Etienne folded his arms and leaned on the cell door. "But those were different times."
Manny glanced over at Adriana and found her studying Etienne carefully. Turning his attention back to the Chevalier, Manny said, "But still, why would the king have given away such an amazing sword? Didn't he want it for himself?"
"Because," said Gaudulfus, suddenly sitting up on the cot. "The damn thing doesn't work. It's just a story, lad. It's not really magic. Which was why the king didn't hesitate to part with it. He had enough pretty baubles, and a pretty bauble that doesn't do what legend said it should is an embarrassment." He eyed Etienne. "Such a gift is no mark of favor."
Etienne gave Gaudulfus a hard look but kept silent.
Gaudulfus sighed. "Although it's still a very fine blade," he added.
Manny knew he should probably stop prodding this sore point, but he couldn't help it. "Has it ever worked?"
Etienne looked down, tapping his boot against the wall to dislodge some mud. "Not for me. Not yet, at least."
Manny could hear the self-reproach in the elf's voice, and recognized it in his downcast eyes. His father had had the same telltale signs when he had been guilty about something he had done. Or in this case, not done. But it's not his fault, Manny thought. It can't be.
Manny was about to say that when approaching footsteps caused them to face the cell's door.
Through the small grill, Manny saw the jailor, a nervous spriggan with few teeth, unlocking the door. Behind him stood Vasseur and several Minister's Guards armed with muskets. The jailor yanked the cell door open and four of the guards moved in and fanned out, aiming their weapons. Etienne and Gaudulfus stepped in front of Manny and Adriana.
Smiling as if he was enjoying this situation far too much, Vasseur stepped into the cell. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"What do you want, Vasseur?" said Etienne.
"His Eminence, the Chief Minister, wants a word with one of you," Vasseur said.
Etienne and Gaudulfus exchanged a look, then Etienne stepped forward.
"Oh, the audience is not with you, Chevalier." Vasseur held up his hand. Then he pointed at Manny. "It's with the little goblin pickpocket."
Manny's heart sunk.
"No!" Adriana snapped, grabbing Manny's shoulder. "He's not going anywhere with you."
"I'm afraid he doesn't have a choice," said Vasseur, his smile vanishing. He drew a pistol, cocked it, and aimed at Etienne. "I can see what you're thinking, Chevalier. You and that fat dwarf think you can rush us."
Etienne and Gaudulfus hadn't moved, but something in their stance had turned predatory.
The guards in the cell knelt and cocked their muskets.
"The boy is not to be harmed," Vasseur said, watching them carefully. "But if you resist, I have orders to shoot all of you."
"Contemptible coward," Gaudulfus growled, scowling fiercely at Vasseur. "Take one of us, not the boy."
"What good is the word of an assassin like you?" Etienne said, his voice tight with tension.
Manny could see that the Minister's Guards were nervous. Some of them looked ready to fire at any moment. He bet that Vasseur wanted an excuse to shoot, he wanted to be able to say that Etienne and Gaudulfus had forced his hand. It's me, or we all get killed.
He didn't want to do it, but he made himself step forward, pulling away from Adriana. "I'll come with you. Just don't shoot them."
"Manny, don't!" Adriana lunged, reaching for him, but Manny ducked past her hands. Vasseur grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around, pressing the barrel of his pistol to his ear.
"There's a sharp lad," Vasseur said easily, his eyes still on Etienne. "It's not surprising the wisest of your number is a street urchin."
Gaudulfus started forward, but Etienne caught his shoulder. "Be still, Gaudulfus," said Etienne. "And you." He moved to block Adriana as she tried to shoulder past him.
"No! They'll kill him! I know they will!" Adriana sounded furious, but there was real fear in her eyes.
"Don't worry, Adriana," said Manny, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I'll be okay. You'll see." He tried to sound brave but he knew he mostly sounded sick.
Manny lost sight of his friends as Vasseur dragged him out of the cell. The Minister's Guards backed out after them, their weapons still trained on the prisoners.
As the jailor locked the door, Etienne looked through the bar
red window. "If you harm him in any way, Vasseur, I swear on my life that I shall kill you."
The level of menace in the Chevalier's voice startled Manny. Behind him, he could feel Vasseur stiffen. Even the Minister's Guards backed away.
Etienne's expression was tight with anger. "I will come for you, Manny. You have my word. I will come for you."
As Manny was taken away, he couldn't tear his gaze away from those blue eyes. He could no longer see Etienne, the King's Chevalier, or even an elf from a magical realm. All he could see was his father.
Chapter Twenty-One
Holding Manny by the scruff of his shirt, Vasseur hauled him up the stairs, angrily knocking him into stone corners. They took Manny out through the tower door, into the inner courtyard, and Manny winced at the suddenly too-bright cloudy morning light.
Vasseur hauled Manny toward the gate to the outer courtyard, the spriggans and other workers staring. Manny tried to pull free of Vasseur. "You don't have to drag me!" Vasseur just tightened his grip and gave Manny a violent shake.
"Keep still, you Unseelie rat!" Vasseur snapped.
An immense black carriage with thick drapes pulled tight across the windows sat in the now deserted outer courtyard. Vasseur headed straight for it and pulled open the door.
"Where are you taking me?" Manny demanded, still struggling.
Vasseur lifted him by his scruff and the seat of his pants and tossed him into the carriage. Manny landed hard on the wooden floor, and the door slammed shut behind him.
The rank odor inside hit Manny immediately. He scrambled to his feet and pressed himself back against the cushioned seat closest to the driver.
Opposite him, a big shape loomed in the darkness, but Manny didn't need to see it to know who it was. Lothair leaned forward into the dim light falling through the gaps in the curtains. He smiled, his lips pulling back to show his sharp tusks. "Well, ain't you the slippery one. We've been looking all over Lutetia for you, runt."
Manny glanced at the doors of the carriage.
"Oh, you're fast," said Lothair, reading his intention. "But you ain't that fast. Just try and make a run for it. I'll bite your fingers off." He licked his lips with his warty purple tongue.
Manny swallowed, and managed to find his voice. "Vasseur said I was going to see Minister Magneric." Didn't he?
The troll laughed. "Now what would a minister want with an insignificant lump of dung like you? No, runt, you've got another audience in your future. Morrigan misses you so. She's eager to see you again."
Fighting off a shiver, Manny pushed himself up into the seat and took a deep breath. "So Morrigan is interested in lumps of dung?" He eyed Lothair from head to foot. "I guess that makes sense."
Lothair's expression went flat with anger. His clawed hands balled into fists, his knuckles popping.
Uh oh, thought Manny in a panic. Yeah, that was probably a mistake.
Lothair grabbed Manny's arm, his sudden movement causing the carriage to rock violently back and forth. Manny was stunned. He had no idea something that big could move so fast.
"Have a care," Lothair snarled, "how you talk to me, rat!" Manny cried out as the troll squeezed his arm. It felt like it was going to break.
The door opened and a tall, slender figure slid into the carriage.
"Drop him."
Lothair turned to the cloaked and hooded figure, squinting at the light. "This runt can't mouth off like that—"
"You heard me," the voice said.
With a growl, Lothair released Manny, who dropped to the seat and huddled in the corner. Lothair eased back, watching the figure warily.
The figure closed the door, shrouding the interior of the carriage once more in shadows. He took a seat next to Manny.
It took several moments of deep breathing and rubbing his arm for Manny to get the pain to subside and some feeling back into his fingers. The carriage jolted and started to move. He could hear the driver's whip and muffled voice spurring the horses forward.
The figure slipped off the hood. It was the tall pale goblin Manny had seen in Gassot's.
"It's not wise to taunt a troll," he said, studying Manny with those opaque eyes. His expression was so cold and neutral, as if nothing that happened here was his concern.
Manny rolled his shoulder and flexed his elbow. "Tell me about it." His voice sounded hoarse and strained.
"I understand you are quite an interesting creature," the goblin said. "Why is that?"
"You got me." Manny shrugged, trying to sound tough and brave. "Maybe it's my sparkling personality."
The goblin smiled. "You speak in a strange manner. I cannot place the land of your birth. I have traveled extensively and am familiar with many languages and many modes of speech. But yours... Most peculiar. Tell me, who are you and where do you come from?"
Manny's mouth clamped shut. You idiot. Stop talking. He'll know something's wrong with you.
"I suggest you answer my questions," said the goblin. "Or I may allow Lothair to persuade you."
The troll snarled, leaning forward. Manny shrank back.
"Who are you and where do you come from?" the goblin repeated.
"My name is Remy. I'm from Lutetia," said Manny. "Where else would I be from?"
"You are most definitely not Remy. Although I must confess both of you have a similar spirit."
Manny frowned, looking up into those cold yellow eyes. "Have we met before?"
The eyes widened in surprise. "You don't recall?"
Stop talking! Stop talking! You're making things worse! Manny squirmed. "Uh, sure. Of course I remember."
"Then describe it to me."
Manny chewed his lip. "Uhm, I met you... in Morrigan's lair." He held his breath and hoped that hadn't sounded too much like a question.
The goblin tilted his head thoughtfully. "We've never met before today."
Manny slowly released his breath, his shoulders slumping. Crud... He couldn't believe he had fallen for the oldest trick on TV.
The goblin said, "So allow me to introduce myself. I am Thomas Grim." He inclined his head. "Formerly of Albion."
Manny blinked. Albion? He had managed to piece together enough from Etienne's story to know that Albion was a land inhabited mostly by Sidhe. That was the kingdom that Oberon once ruled, and it was also the enemy of Aquitania.
Grim arched his brow. "And you are?"
Manny just stared. He had done a bad job of lying to Grim so far, and he didn't think continuing to try would do him any good. And he had no intention of telling him the truth.
The goblin studied him. "Very well, keep your secrets for now. But allow me to offer a little counsel. When you are brought before Lady Morrigan, I suggest you loosen your tongue and tell her everything she wishes to know. She is neither as patient nor as kind as Lothair."
The troll snapped his teeth and snarled.
Manny drew his legs up underneath him. Why did he call her "Lady" Morrigan? He couldn't imagine such a hideous hag being called a "lady" by anyone, even a creepy goblin like Grim. He knew that there was much more to that Unseelie witch than met the eye; maybe she had been the one responsible for bringing him to this world.
And that thought scared him more than anything.
****
The journey down to the sewers and into the depths of the Undercity was even more oppressive in the company of Grim and Lothair. Manny couldn't stop thinking of the story in his mythology book of Orpheus and his descent into Hades, the Greek Underworld. He wished now that he'd read that story much more carefully because he couldn't remember how Orpheus had escaped that gloomy place.
He knew that he had no chance of eluding both Lothair and Grim, even if he tried to ghost. The goblin especially gave off vibes that he would not only be able to see through his glamour, but could easily catch him. Whenever Manny dared a peek, the goblin had been watching him, his strange eyes unblinking.
The vast subterranean chamber appeared abandoned and was no longer lit by a fire. Instea
d, shafts of sunlight shown in from several barred grilles high overhead. Manny was surprised to realize that the chamber actually had openings to the surface, though the bright bands of light made the shadows at the edges of the room darker. He knew that Lothair had no love of the sun and wondered if the troll found that annoying. He hoped so.
Morrigan, her winged figure a series of shadowy coils in the dark, reclined on her fur-covered throne on the raised dais. Her owlish eyes followed Manny as he made himself cross the chamber toward her.
Manny could sense her smiling, could feel it raising gooseflesh on his arms. He froze about fifteen feet from the dais. Grim pushed him closer to the witch. Lothair hung back in the darkness, growling.
Morrigan leaned forward, her wings creaking like an old leather jacket. "My dear boy, why have you been such a bother to your old Auntie Morrigan? I was starting to think you were avoiding me on purpose." She sniffed, her lips set in a mocking pout. "And that hurt your Auntie's feelings."
Manny's throat closed and his legs shook. Don't be scared. Stay calm. She'll use your fear to control you, his shadow voice urged.
"There's no need to be afraid of me." Morrigan easily read his terror. "I only want to have a few words with you. That's all. Just a pleasant little chat."
Grim put his hand on Manny's shoulder, making him jump. Manny managed to croak, "I—I don't have anything t—to say."
"You'll have to speak up," said Morrigan. "I'm afraid I'm not as young as I once was. They say your hearing is always the first sense to go."
Manny braced himself and tried to speak again. "There's nothing to talk about." Although his voice quavered, he was pretty sure she had heard him that time.
"Quite the contrary," she corrected. "Your presence here is certainly portentous, and, in my learned opinion, no mere coincidence."
Manny looked down at his feet. "I don't know what you're talking about." He really didn't.
Morrigan rose from her throne. Manny stepped back in alarm and bumped into Grim. With delicate grace, the hag stepped down from the dais and stood towering over Manny. "Oh no, we shall not begin like this," she hissed. "If we are to proceed, and I assure you we will, then we must be completely honest with one another."