“The tomb. Remember? Marilius didn’t want you to see it. If that’s where the creature came from, there’ll be clues.”
I thought about it, liking the idea. “It wouldn’t waste much time,” I agreed. “Just a short detour, less than half a day. We’d have to enter in the daylight, though. I wouldn’t want to face the creature with Cricket there.”
Malator nodded but never got the chance to answer. All the while I thought Cricket had been sleeping. I jumped when she spoke.
“Face the creature?” she said suddenly.
She looked bleary-eyed, half-asleep. She leaned on her palms to keep herself upright.
“We’re just trying to find out what is it,” I told her. “We have to go.”
“Like we had to go to Akyre?”
“It’s all connected, Cricket,” I said. “The monster, Diriel’s legion, even you. I’ll go in the tomb by myself, but I am going. We’ll get you safely to Isowon after that.”
She looked disinterested. She nodded, tried to smile, then closed her eyes and went back to sleep. Maybe she’d been dreaming, just talking in her sleep. I didn’t know, but I remember thinking she wouldn’t be the same any more. As it turned out, I was right.
20
When I finally awoke the next morning, it was Cricket who was standing guard.
My sleep had been so deep, so complete, that I couldn’t even remember dreaming. Though I’d struggled to stay awake, I had finally succumbed at some point in the night, opening my eye to the sight of Cricket beside our readied horses. She’d already packed our things and doused the fire I’d built in the road. She stood with her back toward me, looking southward and considering the sky. The Sword of Angels lay at my side, but all my other belongings had been strapped to Zephyr. I looked at the sun and realized it was hours past dawn.
“You should have woken me,” I grumbled. I wobbled to my feet then remembered the night before. “You all right?”
Cricket nodded but didn’t smile. “My head hurts a little. I let you sleep because you needed it.”
I looked around, toward the hills and up and down the barren road. “See anything?”
“It’s been quiet.” Cricket came toward me, picking my sheathed sword from the ground and handing it to me. “Here. We should go. It’s at least a full day to the valley.”
“You mean the tomb?”
“That’s where we’re going, aren’t we?”
“We are.”
She thrust the sword at me. “Then we should go. You can eat on the road.”
I took the sword and began belting it around my waist. Cricket walked toward her pony. I watched her movements, looking for a trace of dizziness, any hint of a concussion. She was arrow-straight as she walked. Even her mood seemed fine. Maybe a little icy but nothing like the night before.
“Good that you rested,” I said. “You seem better.”
“Better?” She turned to look at me. “Better than what?”
“Than yesterday,” I said. “Than last night.”
“What happened last night?”
I was about to laugh until I realized she wasn’t joking. The bruise on her head suddenly looked a lot bigger. “You fell off your horse. We were arguing. Don’t you remember? You said your head hurt.”
She probed her forehead, wincing when she touched it. “I do remember falling. . kind of. Last night, we talked about going to the tomb. Malator was there.”
“That’s right.” I went to her and studied her bruise in the sunlight, taking her chin in my hand. “Do you remember what you said to me?”
“I was angry?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Just parts,” she answered. She bit her lip. “Oh, my memory’s getting worse!”
“You remember where we are, don’t you? Do you remember Diriel’s-”
I stopped myself. Cricket blinked at me. “What?”
Had she forgotten? I was afraid to ask. Part of me hoped the trauma of the castle had been wiped away, pushed out of her mind like the memories of her childhood. “We were in Akyre,” I said.
She nodded. “I know.” Then, blankness. I could almost see it, like a curtain coming down. “We should go, Lukien,” she said in a hurry. “We’re too out in the open here. I don’t like it.” She spun back toward her pony. “Let’s make it to the river at least. We can follow it till it’s dark. We’ll get to the valley by tomorrow noon that way.”
She mounted her horse, waiting for me to do the same. Zephyr looked perfect. She’d even brushed him.
“You don’t mind going to the tomb?” I asked.
“I’m your squire, Lukien,” she answered. “It’s not my decision, it’s yours. I’m not afraid. I know you’ll protect me.”
I smiled at her. My squire. She’d cleaned the horses and the camp but hadn’t even brushed her hair. She had no idea how strange she looked sitting there on her pony, oblivious, her face still smudged with ash. She broke my heart.
“Good,” I said, faking confidence. I got on my horse and told her to lead the way south. “We should sing something,” I said as we trotted off. “Anything. No one’ll hear us. Just any song you can remember.”
* * *
We camped that night by the river, near a stand of withered olive trees strangled with vines. With Akyre behind us and the thought of Anton’s palace ahead, we relaxed beside the burbling water, passing the time by finding pictures in the stars. All that day, Cricket had said nothing more about Diriel’s castle or her strange behavior, occasionally falling into long silences while we rode. The day had been a good one, and I was happy to have Cricket acting herself again. I pointed out all the constellations I could recall from my life in Liiria, remembering how Akeela had taught them to me when we were boys. Cricket leaned against me, sharing the tree trunk and staring up through its bare branches.
“That one is called Kolervas,” I said. “The sculptor. He lived a long, long time ago in old Liiria.” I traced the star pattern with my outstretched finger. “He’s chiseling. If you look closely you can tell.”
Cricket tried very hard. “I don’t see it,” she sighed. “None of them really look like anything.”
“You have to use your imagination,” I told her. We’d kept our campfire small so we could see the stars. “There. . there’s a good one.” I moved my finger west and down toward the horizon. “See that big star? That’s Adreana. That’s her head.”
“Who’s Adreana?”
“The Chained Lady.” I smiled when I said it. “She was a princess. She was captured by King Lekara. When she refused to marry him, Lekara chained Adreana to an olive tree. Like these olive trees.”
“Why?”
“To feed her to a giant raven.”
“What?” Cricket sat up. “So, what happened?”
“The raven came and broke her chains and carried her back to her homeland. After that Lekara’s country went to war with Adreana’s. Those stories are called ‘The Tales of the Reecian Wars.’ I read about them when I was young. Mostly just legends. Fun, though.”
“No giant ravens?”
“I don’t think so.” I leaned back and stared at the constellation. “Cassandra told me that story about Adreana. Akeela taught me all the other constellations, but Cassandra showed me Adreana. She told me she felt like Adreana, chained to the tree. Being here with these olive trees reminds me of her.”
Cricket leaned back next to me. “She felt like a prisoner?”
“She was a prisoner. Akeela kept her in his castle for years. No one was allowed to look at her, not even Akeela himself.”
“Because of the amulet?”
“That’s right. The Eye of God that Gilwyn wears now. It kept Cassandra alive. She had a cancer.”
Cricket listened, wanting me to go on. My past was still mostly a mystery to her. “You don’t talk about Cassandra much since we left Jador,” she remarked. “I like when you talk about her.” She grinned. “It’s a love story.”
“I did love her,” I sighed. “I still do. She’s still out there, waiting for me. I just have to die to be with her.”
“You promised Gilwyn you wouldn’t.”
“What? Let myself die?” I shook my head. “Not yet. Someday, though. I told Cassandra that in the Story Garden. She told me it wasn’t my time yet to be with her but one day I will. One day when I’ve done enough. I’ve got a lot of bad things to make right.”