Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Benedict paced across the clearing on the Court of Knowledge side of the Tanglewood.
Ariadne, the swordmaiden who had turned up at his door that morning and handed him a tiny red primrose, leaned against a tree at the edge of the clearing, not so much as a twitch or a fidget to betray if she felt any similar nervous impatience.
Her long black hair had been braided and wrapped around her head while a sword and several knives festooned her person.
And those were just the weapons Benedict could see.
They were supposed to be meeting Munch there before they continued the mission. Not that they could go without him. He was the one supplying the glamour necklaces.
With a crunch and a slight crash, Beatrice stumbled into the clearing, her blonde hair somewhat tamed where it was tied back. She wore a subdued dark green dress with gray leggings beneath and tall boots, looking more like her forester brother-in-law than the petite librarian she usually did.
“Beatrice, what…” His brain stuttered to a halt.
“Munch isn’t coming. Brigid is having her baby, and of course Munch has to be with her, and Meg is staying to help.
So I’m the only human available on short notice.
” Beatrice spoke in a rush, her shoulders hunched but her hand dropping to an iron rod tied to her side with a brown sash.
“And sorry I’m late. It took me a while to find the clearing. You know how the Tanglewood is.”
As enchanted forests went, the Tanglewood was more benign than most. But one couldn’t exactly stroll through it and expect everything to be where it always was. Paths shifted. Trees moved. The forest drew you to where it thought you needed to go.
“Yes. Hopefully the Tanglewood doesn’t prove too tricky to our endeavors this morning.” Benedict crossed the clearing toward her. “Do you have the necklaces?”
Beatrice nodded, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a handful of necklaces. Each one had an amber pendant with some kind of flower in the center hung on a leather cord. “Did Brigid or Munch explain how these work during your planning session?”
Benedict nodded as he claimed one of the necklaces. These necklaces were pixie-made, and the glamour was strong enough that it would disguise a person’s voice as well as their appearance. He’d seen how well they worked when Brigid had worn one to appear to be a fae male.
But the downside was that if anyone touched a person wearing one of these necklaces, they’d see right through the glamour, unlike the far stronger, high-fae-cast glamour currently worn by the imposters.
The necklaces would have to be enough.
As Ariadne claimed a necklace, Benedict glanced between her and Beatrice. “I’ll be Claudius since I’ve actually seen him. Have both of you seen my father and brother?”
Ariadne nodded. “I will be Lord Jonlius.”
“Then I’ll be Borachio.” Beatrice grimaced, and he couldn’t blame her. Neither his father nor brother were exactly pleasant, especially to humans.
Once all three of them had activated the glamour and tucked the necklaces beneath their shirts, they set out through the Tanglewood toward the Court of Revels.
Since both Courts were Summer Courts, there wasn’t a visible dividing line between Courts. The forest looked the same—just as dense, moss-covered, and shadowed—in one Court as the other.
Yet Benedict had a sense when they crossed the border. One moment he was in the Court to which he was bound, and the next he wasn’t.
Instead of heading straight across the Tanglewood, Benedict angled slightly, hoping the Tanglewood would be benevolent for their mission and dump them in the Court of Revels where he intended.
This whole rescue mission would get terribly awkward if they stumbled right into King Oberon and Queen Titania’s palace.
After a good half hour of walking, the forest thinned, and the sunlight ahead showed where the forest ended.
Benedict eased his way into the shelter of a tree and peered out. An overgrown garden, tangled with roses, sprawled down a hollow toward the ivy-covered stone cottage nestled among a handful of willows.
He released a long breath. It seemed the rumors that the forest was especially charitable to humans held true.
“What is this place?” Borachio—Beatrice—crouched behind a thick stand of ferns nearby.
She might look and sound like his brother, but her cadence and facial expressions remained hers.
The light tone and pursed expression broke his brain for how odd they appeared on his brother’s face.
“It looks rather cute for the Court of Revels.”
“This is Chauvlyn Manor.” Benedict pressed his hand to the rough bark of the tree as he drew in a shuddering breath. “The thin spot that leads to the secret prison is anchored to a door in the basement.”
“Chauvlyn Manor? As in…Lord Chauvlyn lives there?” Beatrice-Borachio gestured toward the cottage, though she kept her hand low. “It’s just so…cozy.”
It was rather cozy, for a lord who was well known for capturing humans and working with the evil Claudius.
Still, the dungeon inside belied the picturesque outside.
“Do you think Lord Chauvlyn gave Claudius permission to use his manor as a prison?” She made that gesture again. “After all, Lord Chauvlyn was a prisoner of the Court of Knowledge for a year.”
“Or Claudius just presumed to make himself at home.” Benedict forced his stiff shoulders to roll in a shrug.
To the others, this discussion likely sounded rather odd, considering he currently looked like Claudius, even as he spoke about the fae in third person.
“Claudius is the type to assume that, since Lord Chauvlyn is his minion, he is allowed to use anything that is Lord Chauvlyn’s as if it is his own. ”
“With an attitude like that, one wonders why Lord Chauvlyn is loyal to him.” Beatrice-Borachio sighed and shook her head, his brother’s appearance softened by her rather feminine gestures. Hopefully she remembered to act more like his brother once they strode inside.
“It is curious.” Benedict rolled his shoulders again, trying to work out the tension shooting up his neck.
“Are we going to do this or not?” Ariadne—looking like his father—rested her hand on the sword at her side. Given that her flinty expression appeared rather similar to his father’s dour, disapproving frown, she wouldn’t have to do much in the way of acting.
“Right. Of course. Let’s go.” Benedict drew in a deep breath. Think arrogant, evil thoughts. He strode around the tree, his head high, his shoulders back. He tried to twist his mouth into that egotistically charming smile that had grated against his spine when he’d been held prisoner here.
While he didn’t turn, he heard Beatrice and Ariadne follow, their footsteps only faint scuffs against the thick mossy ground. The footsteps grew noisier as they strode onto the graveled path between the roses.
He was Claudius. He belonged here. No one would dare question his presence.
At the door, he didn’t knock. Knocking indicated that he believed he needed permission to enter.
Instead, he flung the door open and strode inside.
“S-sir!” Two fae males dressed in black came to attention. “We weren’t expecting—”
“Of course you weren’t expecting me.” Benedict tried to growl with Claudius’s annoyed dismissiveness. “I wish to inspect the dungeon one more time. Nothing can go wrong today.”
The fae males exchanged a look. “You inspected everything last night.”
“Then I will inspect everything again!” Benedict would have shoved past them, but he didn’t dare get close enough where he might accidentally brush one of them.
“Yes, of course, sir.” The fae males stepped aside.
Benedict strode past them, trying not to cringe away from them. Beatrice’s and Ariadne’s footsteps rang behind him as they followed.
He led the way through the halls toward to the stone stairs that led downward. As he descended the stairs, he struggled to keep his breathing even, his hands from trembling. When he opened the door at the bottom, he stepped into the small room.
Two more fae males guarded the door on the far side, the one that led through a rip in the barrier between the realms to the pocket of the Realm of Monsters.
Facing that door and those guards, it was all Benedict could do to keep a hold of his stomach and his arrogant stance. He couldn’t break. Not now. Not until he returned to the Court of Knowledge with the rescued members of his Court.
Beatrice stood behind Benedict with her shoulders thrown back, her hands at her side.
Stand like a man. Walk like a man. Sneer like a haughty man.
At least she didn’t have to talk like a man. Since Benedict was pretending to be Claudius, he was the one who did all the talking.
Within a few minutes, Benedict had talked their way past the second set of guards. Because she knew him so well, she saw the slight lift and fall of his shoulders before he opened the door and stepped into the black, gaping hole on the other side.
Beatrice swallowed and hesitated for a moment. She’d never stepped through a tear into the Realm of Monsters before, though she’d heard it was painful.
Ariadne gave her a subtle nudge to her back, and Beatrice jumped forward. Before she could give herself any more time to contemplate it, she dove into the blackness.
For a moment, her world turned inside out with an accompanying shredding pain.
Then she tottered out the other side into a gloomy stone passageway, lit only by the occasional smoking torch. A few of the torches had gone out, leaving only the choking stench of burned tar in the air.
Benedict stood in the passage a few feet ahead of her, his feet seemingly rooted to the spot. Thanks to the glamour, she couldn’t see if his face had paled, but his eyes were wide.
She rested a hand on his arm, and his false face disappeared, leaving his pale features visible. “Take a moment and just breathe.”
Benedict nodded and drew in a shuddering breath.