“Yes!” he said, squeezing her hand. “And you are that woman!”
“You’re sure of that?”
“With all my heart.”
“You know me that well?”
“I’ve known you since before I met you!”
“What’s my favorite color?”
His face went blank. Then, he smiled softly and said, “I remember the green ribbons you wore in your hair. Green is your favorite color.”
In fact, she hated green. She didn’t enlighten him, however, hitting him quickly with a second question: “What’s my favorite food?”
His face brightened. “Cake!”
“A good guess, but the correct answer is fried monkey.”
He furrowed his brow, trying to figure out if she was joking. He waved his hand dismissively. “We shall have years to learn this trivia.”
She shook her head. “I know I’ve been giving you mixed signals. You ran into me at a very confusing time. I’m still mourning the death of someone I truly loved, wondering how to move forward without him. Plus, I’ve been given some unexpected news about my future, and you seemed like you might, maybe, be a candidate for helping fulfil a little prophecy. Any daughter I had with you would at least have pretty eyes.”
“Any son you had with me would some day be king!” Tower said. “Think of your destiny!”
“I don’t really do destiny. I escaped from my father’s plans for my future. The Black Swan told me something about my future that messed with my mind a little, but I really don’t have any reason to take her seriously. I thought maybe you played some role in my future, but you care far more about potential kings that might fall out of my womb than you care about me as a person. I’m sorry, but I’m just no longer interested.”
“But… but… but…” said Tower, his voice trailing away.
“I should have told you this earlier, but Aurora thought you might have the Jagged Heart and I played along to find out if it was true. Now that she’s gone, there’s really no need to humor you.”
Tower set his jaw as his eyes hardened into an angry stare. “Yes,” he said, his voice low and trembling. “Yes, my princess, there is a need for you to humor me. You’re still a fugitive, accused of crimes beyond imagining. I’m your sole path to forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness is a vastly overrated commodity,” she said. “Also, are you really trying to win me over with blackmail?”
Tower said nothing as he put his helmet back on.
“So, what, we fight now?” asked Infidel.
“Yes,” said Tower. There was something strange about his voice. I poked part of my face into his helmet for a look. He was crying. “Yes, we fight now. But not each other. Not yet. My first mission is to slay the dragon. Then… then I will return to my sacred duty of smiting infidels.” His shoulders sagged. “Flee if you wish. I won’t pursue you.”
“Flee?” Infidel cracked her knuckles. “There’s more proof you don’t have a clue who I am.”
Flashing a grin, she jumped down the shaft.
Down below, the Truthspeaker had carved out a hundred-foot circle of calm stone amid the chaotic false matter. The cavity seemed even larger than it had before, as if the false matter of the walls was retreating from the holy man. The heat was as horrible as ever; Father Ver’s armpits were stained with dark circles of sweat. The second Menagerie spider monkey had rejoined the group; the two tiny primates were fanning one another with triangular wedges of shoulder bones to keep cool.
Infidel dropped from the shaft, landing on the stone island. She looked around, her eyes wide. I floated toward her, wondering if the veil between the spirit world and the material world was as thin as Zetetic claimed. I placed my lips by her ear and whispered, “Your favorite color is black, even though that isn’t really a color. I could have answered the monkey question in my sleep. Tower might know your family tree back a dozen generations; I know ten thousand things that make you smile. And when you smile, I smile.”
She didn’t smile. She didn’t respond at all, other than to look toward the shaft just as Lord Tower flew through the opening. He shot off sideways at blinding speed, slamming face first into a wall, sending out a rainbow spray of undulating false-matter gravel. He rose on hands and knees, perpendicular to the others, and said, “By the sacred quill! What madness is this?”
A huge stalagmite grew beside him; he placed his hand upon it to try to rise. The stone fell away just as quickly revealing Zetetic, his hands behind his back, looking amused.
“You’ll find it difficult to fly. If you’re not in contact with a surface, up and down don’t really exist. The Gloryhammer has no objective gravity to resist.”
The steel spikes in Tower’s boots sprung out and dug into the rock. He rose to his full height, using the Gloryhammer as an impromptu cane. He sounded nervous as he asked, “This cursed landscape is where we fight the dragon?”
“Not exactly,” said Zetetic. “This is where I send the Truthspeaker into the spirit world, and open a tunnel for you to launch a sneak attack.”
“When?” asked Tower.
“I can cast the spells at any time, but I assume you wish to pray or meditate or drink some holy water. Whatever it is the righteous do to prepare themselves for battle.”
Tower looked toward Infidel. With his faceplate down, there was no way to tell what he was thinking. After a gaze that lingered long enough to make everyone uncomfortable, the knight said, “I’m as righteous at this moment as I will ever be. Let’s do this.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
Zetetic crossed his arms. “Is there some reason to rush? Maybe you feel ready to fight, but the rest of us are hot, tired, and hungry. Let’s set up camp, rest a little, get some food in our bellies.”
“Let’s not talk about food right now,” said Menagerie.
“Agreed,” said Tower. “This is no fit place to make camp. The less time we linger, the better. Open the portal.”
Zetetic grumbled something beneath his breath, then reached out to grab Tower’s gauntlet. He turned toward the calm stone island where the Father Ver stood and towed the knight over the shifting stone to join the others.
“Maybe I’m not hungry,” said Menagerie, “but I wouldn’t mind a little rest before we face the dragon. What’s the hurry?”
“Zetetic is no doubt gambling that more of you will die if we delay our mission,” said Father Ver.
Zetetic pursed his lips tightly together.
Father Ver continued, “His powers draw on the beliefs of others. Tower and I offer him no fuel for his corrupt arts. If only the three of us had made it this far, he’d be powerless, since the Deceiver doesn’t truly believe his own lies. And, if he were powerless, we’d be unable to open the doorways to the dragon. He imagines this would save his life.”
“That’s a pretty elaborate theory,” said Zetetic.
“We both know it’s the truth,” said Father Ver.
“Whatever,” said Zetetic, with a dismissive wave. He faced the monkeys and No-Face. “I want the two of you to give me your full attention.”
The mercenaries turned their heads toward him with weary stares.
“I have… I have the power to open gateways that lead from this chamber to anywhere I wish, even other dimensions.”
The monkeys nodded simultaneously. No-Face, in his expressionless stare, also seemed convinced.
The only one who looked doubtful was Zetetic. He studied the ground at his feet, taking a deep breath, before stepping up to Tower. His face was mirrored in the knight’s gleaming faceplate as he said, “I’m going to send you to Greatshadow’s lair. So far, my mental shields haven’t detected any of his telepathic probes. He won’t know you’re coming, but you only get one shot. Make it count. If you merely wound the dragon, you might condemn the entire world to burn.”
Tower nodded. “I’ve prepared for this moment my whole life. Though some among us may doubt the purity of my intentions, I will not shirk from my duty… or my destiny!”