LITMIR.BIZ

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Inq said, watermarks flying over her skin. “No, Joy—you don’t know what you’re asking.” She looked to her mother with desperate, wide eyes. “He doesn’t know. He’s never known. It’s kept him safe...”

      “It’s kept him out,” Joy said. “It’s kept him alone.”

      Inq’s face flushed, a swimming montage of watermark glyphs. “No,” she said, looking close to tears. “That’s not true. He’s had me...”

      Joy shook her head, adamant. “That’s not enough,” she said. “It’s not enough and you know it. Not when she’s here, now, and he doesn’t know. “

      Inq spun angrily away, her hands curled tight into fists. Joy guessed that perhaps this was one of the few things Inq had kept for herself—the identity of their creator, their mother, who depended solely on her daughter to be her one confidante, her link to the larger world. Inq had kept the secret for her mother’s safety, but also for herself, something precious that made her unique, individual, different from Ink. But that was no excuse.

      “I mean it, Inq,” Joy said, pushing the point. She thrust out her hand. “Everything. Do we have a deal?”

      Inq scrunched up her face, petulant, stubborn. “I get to say how,” she said. “And I get to say when.”

      “But it will be soon,” Joy said.

      “Soon is a relative term,” Inq said. “But it will be before the Imminent Return.”

      It sounded as if that had always been Inq’s intent, but she’d never dared to think it could be this close. Joy mutely shook her outstretched hand. Inq finally took it. “Deal,” she said, giving Joy’s knuckles an extra squeeze, and then she suddenly brightened and beamed at her mother—the transformation was startling. “See? I told you she would agree,” Inq chirped, winking at Joy. “You’re so refreshingly simple.” She smiled and skipped toward the stairs with a spring in her step. “Now come along. Let’s get you up to speed before the Bailiwick’s tongue dries out.”

      It was a long moment before Joy figured out she’d been played.

      “We’ll return with news,” Inq said to her mother. “And some new company.”

      The princess smiled. “I look forward to it. Go, and be safe, both of you.” Inq and Joy left her standing at the edge of the stair as they climbed.

      Joy welcomed the familiar burn in her muscles as she followed the sound of Inq’s footsteps, catlike in the dark.

      “So you’re blackmailing me to help you find and kill an unknown traitor in order to free your mother, the princess, and reunite the Folk with their King and Queen,” Joy said aloud and shrugged. “You could have just asked.”

      Inq laughed, bell-like and genuine. “Now you know why I was so upset that you undid all my hard work when you took on your True Name,” she said. “That glyph armor I made for you was a great piece of work and your best protection against the rest of the Folk, including whoever is the traitor. Now my greatest weapon is both unprepared and unprotected, sworn to abstain from wearing any armor at all—brilliant. We could be up against just about anyone in the Twixt.”

      Joy refused to feel badly about the choice she’d made; the sacrifice of her magical armor was a small one compared to giving up Ink or her eyes. “Do you have a list of suspects?” she asked.

      “Kurt and I have some theories.”

      Joy paused. “Kurt knows?”

      “He’s originally human, remember,” Inq said matter-of-factly. “Now he’s mostly human-with-benefits, but, yes, he does remember. And he’s twice as cautious as me.”

      Joy snorted. “Only twice?” she said. Inq smirked. “Why don’t you have him kill whoever it is? He’d do anything for you, and you know it.”

      “Everything except go against the Council,” Inq said. “It is part of his contractual servitude to the Bailiwick, else he would have killed Aniseed years ago. Besides, we’re not talking about killing someone—you can erase them. I figure that’s got to be the best way to make sure that whatever was done is undone as completely as possible...if they don’t agree to undo it themselves, of course.” Inq said, acknowledging their terms of agreement. “No killing unless strictly necessary.” Joy felt a small pat on her arm. “Thank you for helping us, Joy.”

      Inq was haloed in the light at the end of Graus Claude’s tunnel, giving her a strangely benevolent glow. She looked unlike herself, something holy, divine. Joy averted her eyes.

      “You were threatening to blab my secret,” Joy muttered. “What choice did I have?” Joy didn’t like having the fact that she’d erased the Red Knight hanging like a Sword of Damocles over her head.

      Inq smiled knowingly. “You always have a choice,” she said. “But, knowing what you know, you would’ve said yes, anyway.”

      “Yeah,” Joy said, continuing to climb. “Probably.”

      Of course, Inq didn’t know that Joy had her own reason for agreeing to find the King and Queen and open their secret door as soon as possible.

      Joy was about to change the rules.

      Inq stepped gingerly over the edge of Graus Claude’s teeth. Joy followed close behind, carefully keeping her hands away from the walls. She tried to ignore the creepy, freakish feeling as she stepped off of the deep stone stairwell onto the fleshy lower lip. Another ruby-red line of fire zipped past her feet. She shuddered as she hurried out onto the rug—the safe, normal, perfectly ordinary rug. Joy had never been so thankful to stand on a rug in her life.

      Kurt stood rigidly at his post like a soldier.

      “Take a seat, Joy. Breathe a little,” Inq said. “What is it my brother always says? ‘It only takes a moment?’ Time does funny things when you fold it over twice.”

      Inq walked with a self-satisfied strut that carried her across the room, where she stopped briefly to press a hand to Kurt’s cheek. Only his eyes moved, but they spoke volumes as she smiled.

      “Be sure she gets out okay,” Inq said. Dropping her hand, she spoke over her shoulder. “I formally withdraw from the Bailiwick.”

      Graus Claude’s mighty jaw trembled and began to contract. His tongue detached from the roof and slid like a pink python over his teeth. Kurt crossed the room in swift strides and took Joy by the arm, setting her quickly in her chair. He tapped the tablet, waking the screen, adjusted the keyboard, set the jeweler’s loupe in one set of his master’s slack fingers and strode back to the doorway, grasping both door handles in his hands. Before Joy had a chance to collect her thoughts or speak, he was gone.

      The jaw reset with a click. Graus Claude’s eyes faded from milk to ice-blue. He blinked like a yawn and set the eyepiece back near his face. Joy jumped in her seat as Kurt swung the doors open as if in midmotion. Graus Claude rolled a pearl between his fingers and palmed it as Kurt gave a perfunctory bow.

      “Yes, Kurt?” Graus Claude said without looking up.

      “Apologies for the interruption, sir, but the hour grows late,” he said in his surprisingly soft tenor. “Miss Malone said that she had an appointment this evening.”

      Joy nearly dropped her tablet. Her brain scrambled, trying to sort out what was real. Then she remembered: Kurt was human. He knew everything. And he could lie.

      “Oh, very well,” Graus Claude said with a huff and set down his jeweler’s loupe. “Ready the car. Miss Malone, I expect that you will commit your notes to memory as I will endeavor to commit my memories to these.” He gestured at the piles with two hands. “Pearls of Wisdom,” he said slyly. “Let them be not before swine.”

      “Excuse me?” Joy stammered, still collecting her swirling thoughts.

      “Matthew 7:6,” he said with a sigh. “I wonder whether

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