Black Moon Draw(44)
“I believe it to be possible. You arrived here by some means. As you pointed out, if you could return, would it not be by the same means? Mayhap you need to remember it.”
“That doesn’t usually happen when you’ve drunk that much,” I say with a frown. I shake my head. I’m tipsy. Before I lose my ability to focus, I change the subject. “The Shadow Knight. Why is he obsessed with reclaiming his lands? What happened?”
“To discuss a past era is to invite tragedy,” the Red Knight warns, a note of discomfort entering his voice.
“So you won’t tell me?”
“I am an ally to all. Do not turn to me for such knowledge.”
“That reminds me. I found the Brown Lake coins in your carriage and he found them on me. He doesn’t really consider you an ally right now.” The words come out before I can stop them, the side effect of buzzing.
The Red Knight stiffens. I study him with effort, the world fuzzy and unsteady. He says nothing in what feels like forever. I know it’s because I’m no longer sober that time seems to slow, but I quickly grow tired of waiting for him to respond and pour more wine for both of us.
“’Tis not so simple,” he replies finally. “Your arrival complicated our alliance.”
“I mess up everything. There has to be a reason I’m here.” I sigh.
“To become the last great battle-witch.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re right. I am a terrible battle-witch.” Whoa. I should not have said that.
But it gets worse. I have the urge to tell him everything, from the time my parents divorced to the way the Shadow Knight makes me feel when he’s close enough for me to smell brownies. The compulsion isn’t natural; that much I know. I’ve been drunk enough times to know what it should feel like.
“Is something in this?” I ask, setting the goblet down and staring at it.
“’Tis strong wine.” He sets his down as well. “I know you have some magic. I saw it.”
“I do. I guess it’s not what it’s supposed to be. Maybe because I’m not a damn witch to start off with!”
“You are.” His calm, firm assurance makes my brows furrow. “There is a legend about Black Moon Draw, that if the last great battle-witch fell into the hands of the Shadow Knight ruling the dark kingdom, he would know victory over all. Reclaim the lands of his ancestors, break the family curse, and all war would end for an era.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” I say, thinking about the horrible battle I witnessed yesterday. I wish I knew more about the curse; it seems like everyone has his or her own understanding of it.
“If you are a knight of this world, it does,” the Red Knight says dryly. “No one wants to lose his kingdom.”
“Ah. Makes sense.” I’m starting to understand a little more about what’s going on in this world. “What happens if he fails?”
“The eternal fog of Black Moon Draw consumes all.”
I stare at him blankly for a moment. “So you do know what happens. And you’d rather have that happen than be ruled by someone like him?”
“That is the position of many of the Knights. They want to kill him in order to stop him and his curse from spreading. ‘Tis just a legend after all. No one knows if it is true. They are wagering ‘tis not. He is the last Shadow Knight with no son to succeed him. If he is gone, many believe the curse will be gone with him.”
I listen, soaking up the information. It’s not what I expected to hear. The Shadow Knight is sounding more like an underdog, someone who needs more support than I thought. Hearing about the alternative – that his death might also stop this – leaves me a little more interested in his welfare than I am ready to admit. I can’t escape the image of him saving my life and those of his men in battle or the instinct that there is more to him than I’m willing to consider right now. I don’t want there to be some part of this place that makes me want to stay, no matter how my body responds to seeing him.
It’s getting harder to concentrate. I shake my head.
“The best way to kill him is to first eliminate his battle-witch,” the Red Knight continues, drinking more wine.
“That sounds smart,” I agree. It takes a moment for his meaning to register. “Oh. But that’s me.”
“It is,” he agrees with a smile. “Which is why we’re talking.”
“Because . . .”
“I was paid by Brown Sun Lake to ensure that happened.”
I hear the words, but they’re competing with some random thoughts about how strong the flowers smell here. When they click, though, a shot of adrenaline blows away everything but the idea the man before me was paid to kill me.
“But . . . why . . . I mean . . . you had a chance to do that.” I stand. “You didn’t. And you haven’t. Or . . . maybe you did?” I lean precariously to glance into the wine once more.
“Not yet,” he admits softly.
I struggle to focus on him. I’m fevered from the alcohol, my vision too blurry for me to make out the finer features of his face. “And why not?”
“You have something I need: a way back. I and the Shadow Knight are all that stand between you and the other eight knights out there that want you dead.”