11. The Apprentice Meets a Lady and He Is Given a Quest

On the fifty-fifth day of Kew's imprisonment, Thirty Robin and her friend Twenty-Nine joined him after breakfast and took him to the garden. It was a beautiful sunny morning, and the flowers glowed like gems amid the enamel-green grass. Fruit trees bloomed here and there, wafting their fragrance about as they stirred in a gentle breeze. Above the courtyard roof, Black Tower shone as dark as a snake's scales, its windows bright as eyes. Banners broke from its spires, yellow and red and white, echoing the flowers below.

In the midst of the garden, the hives wandered. They varied somewhat in size, but all of them were more than a head taller than Kew. The fur on their bodies was glossy and smooth, but shaggy at the neck and tail. Dainty ebony hooves flashed in the sunlight. All of them had pyramidal spires for heads, as tall again as themselves. They were pierced with small windows through which bees came and went like lanterns from the tower.

"Ladyship should be here soon," said Thirty Robin.

"And you can leave," said Twenty-Nine Robin to Kew. She scratched her beard in agitation.

"Don't mind Two Nine," said Thirty Robin. "She just don't want to get back on Her Ladyship's bad side."

"How did you get on her bad side before?" said Kew.

"Harbored a traveler through the West Passage," said Twenty-Nine. " They were a no-name from Yellow, whilst you claim to be an apprentice from Grey, but still. Everyone from outside's a ‘spy' to Her Ladyship. She thinks you'll keep her from ever reaching the tower." She made a reflexive gesture of her right hand, aiming middle and ring fingers at the black mass above the rooftops.

"Reaching the tower?" said Kew.

"A moment," said Thirty. "Under the apple tree. It's dropping."

She ran back inside. Twenty-Nine ran forward. Kew whirled between them for a moment as if pulled by two opposing ropes, then followed Twenty-Nine to see if he could help. She was headed for the tree, where a fat dappled hive was spreading its back legs.

"Bucket bucket bucket bucket," Twenty-Nine was saying as she got behind the hive. She cupped her hands below its rear. "Bucket bucket bucket."

"Bucket bucket bucket," came an answer from behind Kew, and he dodged aside just as Thirty ran up with a wooden pail in each hand. "Bucket bucket bucket."

The hive's bees buzzed in unison, like a groan. Twenty-Nine held the bucket with one hand and patted the hive's flank with the other. The bees buzzed again. With a wet splut, the hive's urethra opened and a stream of thin, clear honey oozed down its fur and into the bucket.

"Good girl," said Twenty-Nine. "That's it."

"Looks a bit early," said Thirty, bending over to look at the trickle. "Kind of pale if you ask me."

"Nobody did. Still—" Twenty-Nine swiped some up on her index finger and held it up to the light critically. "Could be thicker and goldener."

"They should've held on to it longer." Thirty leaned over to the hive's head. "You should've held on to it longer."

"Oh, hush," said Twenty-Nine. She licked her finger and hummed with pleasure. "Still good. Could be better, but still good. Her Obsidian Ladyship'll be pleased."

"Aw, shit," said Thirty. "Aw, shit . Just remembered. One had a message before breakfast."

"What of it?" said Twenty-Nine.

" She'll be here tonight! She'll want her proper sip!"

Twenty-Nine huffed a sigh. "Get her cup then. No, you soothe the queen, see if we can keep this coming. You, Kew. Go inside and ask anyone where the Lady's cup is and bring it here directly."

Kew looked at Thirty, who nodded. He obeyed. Frin was just inside the door with a diagram of bees, mouthing words to himself as if memorizing. Kew explained the situation to him.

"The cup is in the safe," said Frin. "Come with me. We'll see if Fifteen will open it for you."

Fifteen Robin was very old and a little hard of hearing, and she nearly tripped over her own white beard when she went to open the safe, but open it she did. Inside, amid a lot of objects of clearly ceremonial use, was a simple wooden cup.

"Careful with it, Grey apprentice," said Fifteen. "Thank North I won't be responsible for the consequences if you lose or break it—or worse, drink from it."

Kew and Frin ran back to the garden. The bucket was about half-full, and the trickle of honey had slowed to a thread of sticky droplets. Twenty-Nine took the cup and dipped up a little of the honey. When that was done, she and Thirty sighed with relief.

"It'd never do if you told Her Ladyship a hive had dropped and there was none for her," said Thirty. "Not even if you sang it to her with a golden voice."

"Ah, why'd you come, Grey-boy," said Twenty-Nine. "She'll think you came from Ebony, she will. And Obsidian and Ebony aren't exactly sisterly-loving at the moment."

The wind had been steadily rising as she spoke, which at first Kew took no notice of, but soon it was whipping everyone's clothes about and playing havoc with the trees' blossoms. A horn blew a deep call that throbbed in the stones of the walls and the very ground itself.

"Ah," said Thirty calmly. "She's early."

Twenty-Nine thrust the cup of honey into Kew's hands as if it were too hot to hold. "Here," she said. "Her Ladyship'll know you're not one of us, but if you offer her a treat she won't bite your head off. Immediately."

"She what," said Kew.

"Hush, hush!" said Thirty. "Follow us!"

On their way inside, Twenty-Nine paused a moment to leave the bucket of honey in the kitchen. Grabbing a towel to clean her hands with, she led the other beekeeper and the two apprentices through the mess hall and into a large cobwebby hall of polished but dusty stone. At its end was a great wooden door studded with bronze. Two guards stood on either side of it, sheathed in black chitinous armor like Sparrow's, and they held thin needly spears. The other beekeepers and apprentices were filing in as well, some of them still getting dressed or toweling themselves dry after a bath.

There was a change in the air. It did not come from the crowd, though at first it seemed to. A kind of hum or drone vibrated in the floorboards and into Kew's very bones. It grew louder and stronger until the door itself seemed to be shaking.

"What is that?" he whispered to Thirty. His voice was very loud in a room gone suddenly quiet.

Her, Thirty mouthed.

The door opened. Two immense hands crept into the hall, sleek and black as stag beetles. There was a suggestion of transparency at their edges, as if they were molded of glass. They moved like hunting jackals, attached to slender arms jangling with jewelry. One hand contracted until its index finger pointed down the length of the hall. All the beekeepers and apprentices turned their heads to follow it, and stepped aside as they did so, until Kew stood alone at one end of the hall, cup in hand, with that gigantic finger aimed directly at him.

"You'd better go in," said Thirty. "Don't worry. We'll go after."

He swallowed. Forcing his feet to walk was the hardest thing he had ever made himself do. To go farther into that sound… But the Lady might punish the beekeepers for his disobedience.

Sworn to protect.

The crowd closed in behind him as he walked toward the hands, which withdrew behind a veil of gauzy black curtains. He passed through the door, and the crowd followed him. Beyond the curtains was a room even higher and broader than the first, which now seemed reduced to the status of vestibule. There were tall, narrow, diamond-paned windows, but their light was baffled and scattered by many hangings of more black gauze. The hands retreated as Kew advanced, shifting the hangings aside but never revealing more than the long, glassy arms and the immense bangles at the wrists. Finally, the hands halted. One faced him, palm up, and he stopped walking. After a moment, the other came toward him, thumb and forefinger extended. Kew held out the cup. The great fingers closed on it delicately. An odor rose from them like cedar and lavender. At that proximity, the gems in the bangles were clearly visible. Each was a crystal orb inside which tiny red and yellow birds fluttered ceaselessly.

The hand took the cup and slipped into the shadows beyond the hangings. Slurps resounded throughout the room, and the beekeepers looked at each other nervously, like students awaiting the results of an exam. Soon the hand set the cup down on the stone floor, heavily slimed.

It is sufficient, said the Lady, but it tastes foreign. It is like the dust of graves. Who has given it to me?

"An apprentice from Grey," said One Robin. "We took him in for a night, and—"

Oh? said the Lady. How interesting. How unexpected . Especially after the last time.

Quick as thought, her hand shot back out and grabbed One Robin around the chest and began squeezing. She swelled up like a bubble. In a moment, the beekeeper would burst from the pressure.

"They rescued me," said Kew.

The hand paused but did not release One Robin.

I see, said the Lady. I must punish them anyway. They have been bribing Ebony behind my back. As if I could not defend my own fief, they buy her off with my honey .

"I am traveling to Black Tower with a message for the Willow Lady," said Kew. "I will give it to you if you like."

I have no interest in messages from Grey, said the Lady.

One Robin looked about to faint.

"It is of vital importance to the palace," said Kew. "You will be the first of the Ladies to hear it."

First of my sisters? said the Lady. I see what you are doing. But happily for you, my curiosity is piqued.

She set down One Robin, who immediately collapsed, gasping and choking. Nobody went to her aid, but Frin and Thirty stepped an inch or two forward as if they were on the verge of doing so.

Come in here, Grey apprentice, said the Lady, beckoning to him with one finger. It slipped away; Kew followed. The beekeepers murmured among themselves as he passed them. One Robin nodded to him, her face purple.

Beyond the last hangings was a great palanquin of black glass ten or twelve yards high, and nearly as wide as it was tall. Its roof was a web of spun glass rising to a flowerlike finial. Its linings and curtains were black lace and blacker velvet. Almost a tower in its own right, it was staggering to think of the power that could move such a thing.

In ranks on either side of the palanquin stood people in yellow robes. Obsidian plaques festooned their necks and wrists, and many of them wore long surcoats or veils of black. Three or four wore tall, spire-like hats, lined with openings in which goldfinches perched. None of the courtiers said anything to him, or even acknowledged his presence. The only sound in the room was a little dragonfly, buzzing in the window above the palanquin to land on the glass.

As he approached, the curtains parted. There was the Obsidian Lady. She wore a simple shift of black, but around her neck was a court's worth of gold. Her head was a cube of some dark substance like a talon, and many yellow eyes opened in its sides. Its base rested on three ornate pillars of the same substance. Three corresponding shoulders sprouted beneath them, leading to three arms, though one was severed just above the elbow and capped with chased gold. The parts of her that were not talon-like were the same glassy material as her hands. She sat cross-legged (or perhaps her lower body was naturally tetrahedral) upon mounds of black and purple silk, fringed with gold. On a perch dangling from the palanquin's roof, a bird with a long yellow tail swung to her left.

Kew averted his eyes.

"I will speak to you like this," said the bird in high, silvery tones. "I cannot hide my proper voice, and I do not wish this conversation to reach other ears than ours."

"I understand, Your Ladyship," said Kew.

"What is your news?" said the Lady.

"The Beast rises," said Kew.

Her several eyes blinked with a dry sucking noise. "I had wondered."

"Apologies, Your Ladyship, I had thought my news was fresh."

"Winter lies over Grey and spreads toward Blue. That means that either the wheel has been turned, or the Beast has awakened once more. You have confirmed this. I am in your debt."

"Surely your sisters must know." At the same time, he thought Winter?

The bird's voice carried some dry amusement. "The fiefs of Obsidian are outermost. I hear what happens in the palace long before them, if they ever hear at all. Those that do hear, likely do not care. I do not care either, except that I can use this to my advantage. Tell me. You taste of books and the grave. To whom are you apprenticed?"

"The Guardian of the West Passage."

The Lady sighed with her natural voice. The blood in Kew's body grew thick for a moment. The courtiers' eyes rolled back in their skulls. Some of them licked their lips.

"And she has sent you here."

"Yes."

"She did not come herself?"

"She is dead."

The Lady sighed again. "I am too young to remember the last gap in the chain of succession. It is not good to let the guardianship lapse."

"I had hoped—" Kew swallowed. "I had hoped an edict from Black Tower would instate me to the office and name of Hawthorn, in—in gratitude for my fulfillment of her order."

Her eyes narrowed in a kind of cosmic merriment. So might the stars be amused by a flash of lightning. "A small concern for a small person. What a mayfly you are. By the time I next draw breath, you will be dust."

"I know, Your Ladyship. And I am sorry to bother you with my concerns."

"You say I am the first Lady of Black to receive this news. If you complete one task for me, I will grant you what you seek."

"Yes, Your Ladyship, anything." The instant he spoke, Kew regretted it. Used to dealing with his own Ladyless Grey, he had forgotten: a bargain with a Lady should not be undertaken lightly. Promise them nothing, accept no promises from them: either obey only, or run. And yet, if winter lay over Grey… The courtiers whispered behind upraised hands.

She sighed a third time. Kew's vision swam with white spots. "Go to the next fief. Tell the Ebony Lady that the Beast rises and has granted my wish, and that I will ride it to the conquest of Black Tower."

"Will she believe me?" said Kew.

"She will believe that you believe it. She will pass you along to the next Lady, and the next, and so on, and so you will confuse my sisters in the tower" (her hand made the same gesture as Twenty-Nine in the garden) "and they will be unprepared, and I will follow in your wake, and they will be too distracted to oppose me."

"How can I believe it when I know it is not true?"

The silks beneath the Lady shifted aside. A long, wet, pink tongue emerged, studded along its length with pale beads or blisters. The scent of honey breathed throughout the chamber. Many courtiers gasped. Kew shuddered as the tongue came nearer.

Do not run, said the Lady. And Kew could not run.

The tongue-tip touched his head, right where Frin had stared earlier. A drop of her saliva slid down his forehead. With a murmur of delight, the courtiers admired the tableau.

"You bear a stain of our lantern light," said the Lady. "One of the oldest miracles. They say it makes one malleable and receptive. And so I can make you believe it."

Of course. So powerful and beautiful a Lady, so alive to the doings of the palace, unlike her insular sisters, would naturally know of the Beast and how to ally herself with it. So clever and wonderful a Lady, and so merciful. How fit to become the highest Lady of Black Tower, to rule the palace. The Beast was no danger. She had it on a chain like a fierce dog, and it would bite only at her command. He was honored to stand in the presence of such power.

"Oh, not so much as all that," said the Lady, and her tongue touched him again. His head cleared a little. What rubbish he had been thinking. She would ride the Beast, but it of course had its own plans and appetites, ill-suited to her own.

"I will use the Beast's wish to conquer the tower. And when you are Guardian," said the Lady, "you will rid me of the Beast. That is the truth."

"That is the truth," said Kew. The bird's feathers rustled. The dragonfly whirred out the window.

"Now go and deliver your message," said the Lady. "And do not be distracted by the delights within the tower. You will become everything you dream if you keep your wits about you."

"My Lady," said Kew. "You are the best and cleverest of Ladies."

I am, said the Lady.