Obsidian Ridge (4 page)

She gasped as she took it from his hands. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

Lifting it over her head, she let it drape from her neck. It caught the moonlight and cast it onto the Claw’s face. “I will never take it off.”

“I hope that’s true,” he said, admiring it around her neck. “The locket holds inside it an enchantment. If you are ever in trouble, just open the clasp, and I will be able to find you—no matter where or how far away you are.”

The princess wrinkled her nose. “How romantic,” she said, sarcasm echoing in her words. Its—

Mariko laughed. “I love it,” she assured him. “Besides, I’m not going to need it.” She put her hand on her hip. “I’m able to take care of myself.”

“Of that I’m sure.” The Claw looked down. “It’s for my peace of mind.”

The princess put her finger under his chin and lifted his face until he was looking into her eyes.

“Then I will wear it forever and ever.” Taking his hand, Mariko turned it over so his palm faced the sky. “But you must let me do something for you—for my peace of mind.”

Unfastening the straps along his wrist, the princess removed the gauntlet on his left hand. Placing it on the ground, she took hold of him, examining his palm. His hands were twice the size of hers.

The Claw looked down on her, watching as she ran her fingers over his, her smooth skin caressing the calluses and bruises. He took a deep breath and let the moment wash over him.

The princess traced a figure on his palm, making the same lines over and over again. As she did, she spoke a few soft words, and the shape on his palm lit up brightly.

He recognized the symbol she had drawn. Her personal rune.

The Claw pulled away. “Did you just brand me?” he asked, rather incredulous.

“Of course,” she said, hardly able to contain her laughter. “I do this to all my men.”

“Very funny.” The Claw shook his hand, hoping it was an illusion. But the light remained.

The princess gave him a fake scowl. “Hold still. I’m not finished yet.”

Pulling him forward, she took another firm grip on his hand. Waving her palm over his, she spoke words that made no sense to him. When she finished, the light went out.

The Claw examined his hand. It looked the same as it always had. “What… what did you do?”

“Repeat after me,” she said. “As you wish, Princess Mariko.”

The Claw tilted his head. “As you wish, Princess Mariko.”

The rune on his palm came back to life, glowing like a mage-lit stone.

“Now close your palm.”

The Claw did as he was told, and the light extinguished itself.

“Now you’ll never get lost on your way home in the darkness,” she said.

“As you wish, Princess Mariko.” His palm illuminated again. “I’ll be…” he said, impressed by the usefulness of such a gift. “I’m touched.” He closed his palm and picked up his gauntlet.

“I’m sure a man in your position will find it… helpful.” She reached up and gave him another quick kiss. “I must be off now. I have much work to do.”

“Yes,” said the Claw. “As do I.”

“Same time tomorrow night?”

The Claw nodded. “Same time.”

Princess Mariko turned and disappeared into the darkness, her form of light dismantling as it slipped off into the shadows.

The Claw smiled as he watched her go. After taking one last look at his palm, he too turned and headed off into the night, toward the seedy darkness of Erlkazar’s underworld.

+++++

In the corner of the courtyard, where the shadows from two intersecting walls overlapped in complete darkness, a figure watched. Mariko had tried very hard not to be followed, doubling back more than once, traveling in the shadows, and checking her tracks.

But the figure was good at watching her. He knew her patterns and where she would look for trackers. The figure knew how to observe her without being observed. He knew that she frequently left the royal palace late at night. He knew that she would often be out until just before sunrise. What he didn’t know was where she went or with whom she met.

That was why he had followed her here, to the northernmost courtyard outside the palace.

The princess crossed the open space, stopping halfway across to speak with someone. From the darkened corner, the concealing walls blocked part of the figure’s view. He could not see who Mariko had met here in the middle of the night. The moon was high and bright, leaving very little room to move without being revealed. So the figure waited.

He watched her cast a spell on something, then she leaned back, pulling another person’s hand—a man’s hand—into view. She cast another spell, then, after some further conversation, she leaned up to give the man a kiss.

Knowing what was at risk, the figure leaned away from the wall, craning his neck to get a better view. Had the princess turned at that moment, she would have seen the figure’s dark hood, lit by the moon’s rays, would have seen the smooth, pale skin of the figure’s forehead illuminated by the unusually bright night.

But the princess did not turn, and the figure pressed himself back against the concealing wall.

“The princess and the Claw,” the figure whispered. “This is bigger than I had thought.”

The princess turned away from her evening rendezvous and returned to the shadows on the eastern edge of the courtyard.

Just as he had before, the figure slunk away, following the princess into the shadows.

+++++

From the rooftop, a man in a cape and wide-brimmed hat watched the princess and the Claw being watched by a figure in the shadows. It was not easy to see the figure, for it had taken great care to conceal itself in the darkest part of the courtyard. But the man in the hat had followed the figure here just as it had followed the princess.

High above all the action, the man chuckled quietly. This was a strange turn of events. Never would he have thought he’d find the Claw as part of this. He suspected the figure had been equally surprised to learn of the princess’s relationship with the king’s assassin. Who would have thought it? The kingdom’s most beloved royal paired with the kingdom’s most-rumored and least-understood figure. Maybe there was something to this tall, dark, and handsome bit after all.

This night might turn out to be much more interesting than he had thought.

The rendezvous below broke up, and the princess disappeared back into the shadows.

“Go on,” he said, talking to the figure, though he knew it couldn’t hear. “Follow her.”

Predictably, his quarry did, skirting the edge of the high wall, following the shadows to the edge of the courtyard and out of sight.

“Time to go.” Getting up from his perch, the man in the hat crossed the rooftop to stand at the edge of the building.

From here he could see the slowly winding road and the fields to the east of the palace. In the far distance he could see the waves in the harbor, gently pressing against the docks.

The moon’s light illuminated everything in stark contrast, and he watched the princess drift in and out of the small, concentrated shadows. She was a smart one, Mariko. She navigated her way toward the docks with the caution and confidence of a well-trained rogue. It was a wonder that the figure was able to track her at all from the street. It wouldn’t surprise him if there was some magic aiding the figure’s success.

The princess disappeared at the end of the road, and the figure appeared, as if on cue, from the shadows near the palace.

Reaching into his vest pocket, the man in the hat pulled out a small wooden charm, a feather tied to one end by a slim piece of leather. Squeezing it in his hand, he stepped over the edge and began to fall, quickly at first, then much slower as he approached the ground. His cape lifted over his head, and the wide brim of his hat undulated softly in the breeze.

His feet touched the cobblestones of the courtyard with no more force than if he had just walked off a single step. Opening his hands, the charm was gone, consumed by the fall. Brushing off his palms, the man in the hat started after the figure.

Clearly the figure was not concerned with being followed or not wise enough to guard against such eventualities. Tracing its steps was quite easy, and the man followed it all the way into the heart of the underworld—the docks, storehouses, and seedy businesses that cluttered Llorbauth’s waterfront.

The man caught sight of the princess once again—atop a small stable used to house the workhorses that pulled heavy freight off of incoming trade ships. From where she was perched, she could see people approaching from any direction.

The man in the hat smiled. People were predictable. They spent most of their time looking at the road, watching where they were going. Very rarely did they look up, to see what was directly above them. Mariko was hiding in plain sight.

5”

“Nice trick,” he said quietly.

Her gamble paid off. The figure reached the intersection and stopped, consulting some object in its palm. After a moment, the figure darted down the road to the north. Getting to the next intersection, it turned around and darted back the other direction.

The man in the hat settled up against the side of a storehouse to watch as the figure’s frantic searching continued. Finally, unable to locate the princess, the figure headed east, toward the Shalane waterfront and the docks.

Glancing up at the rooftop as he followed, the man confirmed what he had suspected. The princess was nowhere to be found. But that was none of his concern.

The buildings were tightly packed here, giving the moon’s light less of a chance to penetrate the confines of the city’s most corrupt district. The tight corners and long, dark shadows made tracking the figure much harder, but the man managed despite the difficulty.

The figure turned down an alleyway, one block up from the water. Coming around a final corner, the man in the hat stopped cold in his tracks. The alley dead-ended in a single, wooden door. It was a door like any other door in Llorbauth, except that this one was adorned with a small crest—the golden profile of a beautiful woman, a simple tiara on her head, her long hair flowing around her face.

That crest could only mean one thing. That it was time for the man to take his hat and get far away from this place.

+

As the sun rose over Llorbauth, Princess Mariko dangled from the edge of the palace wall, counting footfalls. The guards had been doubled since Tasca’s death threat on her father. The patrols on the roof had also doubled, making it harder for her to return home unseen.

Two guards walked past her, silent except for their footsteps.

“Ten, eleven, twelve…” The princess pulled herself onto the roof and tumbled across the stone, coming to rest behind a gargoyle perched beside a chimney stack. Hiding behind the stone creature, she waited.

A second patrol appeared in her view, marching just slightly behind the first. The moment they disappeared from her sight, she moved again, slipping around to the opposite side of the chimney. Lifting a small, stained glass skylight, Mariko silently lowered herself down into her private chamber.

The room was dark, except for the slight trickle of light through the skylight. Crossing to her dressing cabinet, Mariko stripped off the tight garments she had been wearing and tucked them neatly into a wooden box. Placing her hand on the lid, she closed her eyes and whispered the words that activated the rune permanently placed on its surface. In a blink the box vanished, and the princess closed the doors of the cabinet.

Knock-knock-knock.

“My lady,” came Genevie’s voice from the other side of her chamber door. “Are you awake? May I enter?”

Turning to her bed, Mariko unmade the blankets as best she could, crumpling and tossing them to the side. Then grabbing a simple gown from a hook in the cabinet, the princess hurriedly pulled it over her head.

“Yes, Genevie,” she replied, trying to settle the rumpled fabric against her skin. “You may enter.”

The door opened slightly, and the aging half-elf pressed herself through the narrow space. She closed it behind her as quickly as she could, as if she were trying to avoid letting anything in or out of the room.

In her right hand she carried a candelabrum, and the lit candles filled the chamber with an orange glow. Once inside, Genevie set about lighting the other candles in the room, slowly chasing away the nighttime shadows. When she finished, she set the candelabrum down on the heavy wooden table and turned to the princess.

She smiled. “Good morning, my lady. Sleep well?”

Princess Mariko rubbed her hands over her face and brushed her hair back, opening her mouth in a fake yawn. “Not so well,” she replied. “I was a little restless last night.” She sat down on the edge of her bed. “I didn’t get much sleep.”

The half-elf frowned. “Yes, not much at all.” Stepping around the princess, Genevie shooed her off the bed, pulling up the wrinkled blankets and smoothing them down in an orderly fashion. “I’ve not seen you so restless in a long time.”

The princess let out a long sigh. Time to play Good Princess, she thought.

“Yes,” she said. “It’s because I haven’t felt this way in a long time.”

Genevie stopped her tucking and folding. “Why, Princess.” She put her hands on her hips and gave the younger woman a stern smile. “Am I to understand that you are lusting after this gentleman suitor of yours ?”

Mariko giggled, continuing the “good princess” act. “You make it sound so…” She couldn’t find the right word. “So wonderfully unladylike.”

Genevie sat down on the bed, all but forgetting about her task of making it again. “So you saw him last night?”

The princess nodded.

“And what did he say?”

Mariko cocked her head. She rather enjoyed teasing the older half-elf. “Say?”

“You know,” replied the half-elf without missing a beat, “did he tempt you with promises of his undying devotion?”

Mariko shook her head. “Don’t be silly, Genevie. You and your romantic fantasies.”

“No, really, what did he say? He must have said something… something to make you so restless.”

The princess wandered over to her dressing cabinet and began examining the robes and gowns, looking for something appropriate to wear. “Well, he didn’t recite me poetry or compare my beauty to that of the moon, if that’s what you are asking.”