23. The Apprentices Meet a Lady

23. The Apprentices Meet a Lady

The next morning, Frin got up first, moving slowly and painfully. The alchemist had bruised him more than he'd let on. The aches worked themselves away, though, or so he told Kew, who woke up with another headache and a fuzzy, dusty taste in his mouth. One set of miseries was enough for the both of them. After a quick bite of bread and dried apples, they were off again. The tower was very close now, stretching up into the mists, so tall it weighed the air down.

When you come to a red archway, take the stairs up to Last Lily . A long onyx walkway arcing over the North Passage, Last Lily had the form of a person stretching out with her toes on one walltop and her fingers on the opposite. The story went that the last Lady of the Lily Era had turned herself into this bridge, escaping the violent downfall of her dynasty and the rise of the Hellebores. She had done a poor job of it; the hills and valleys of her clothes must have been nearly impassable in those early years, until generations of feet wore a track through them. Kew paused in the small of her back to gaze up the North Passage. At one end was Grey Tower, half-shrouded by snow. He turned around.

When you have crossed Last Lily, you will be in Ebony. Don't linger there, but go down the grand staircase to the tower.

Kew went up the stairs.

"What are you doing?" said Frin, running after him. "One said down the stairs." He caught at Kew's hand, but Kew jerked it out of his grasp.

"I'm to deliver my message to the Ebony Lady," said Kew.

"I can't go with you," said Frin. "I'm one of Her Ladyship's crofters. If Ebony and her people catch me here, I could be killed."

"I'm here with you, though," said Kew. "You're under my protection, I suppose."

They stared at each other, neither comprehending. To Frin, the patchwork of fiefdoms around the tower was a maze of shifting allegiances whose constantly redrawn boundaries brought death with the stroke of a pen. To Kew, who knew only how things worked once upon a time, the battles between the outer Ladies of Black Tower were nothing more than the little rivalries between Guardian and mother, or between the north and south cloisters of Grey. Frin gave in, believing that Kew was far better informed. Kew was acting on behalf of the Obsidian Lady. That surely gave him some kind of immunity, as these things went.

At the top of the stairs, a wide mezzanine overlooked a rectangular courtyard. Tables had been laid there, and people were eating. By a white balustrade stood a person in a black kirtle, gazing out over the meal. They turned when Kew and Frin left the stairs. One side of their pale face had burst open to show smooth ebony, carved with butterflies and flowers, and amid the traceries was a quatrefoil window holding four blue eyes. The air crawled with holiness.

Who are you? said the Ebony Lady. And why are you here?

One of her eyes swiveled and focused on Frin, who grabbed Kew's arm.

"My Lady," said Kew, bowing. "I'm Kew of Grey Tower, apprentice-Guardian of the West Passage, and I am here to inform you that the Beast comes; more than that, your sister Obsidian has aligned herself with it, and will use it to conquer the Great Tower."

The four eyes blinked.

Come, said the Lady, eat with us.

She led them down into the courtyard and stood behind them as her people set places, setting out trenchers and ladling on thick stews and boiled, buttered vegetables. But with the Lady right there, smelling of hot steel, neither of them could eat.

Finally she took a seat in a high-backed chair carved all over with leaves and thorns. Please, she said, have a bite. Little beekeeper, you have nothing to fear from me—the Robins and I have an agreement, and you are my guests.

Kew worried down a pinch of something in a sour brownish sauce. Frin ate a leaf of spinach.

Ah, I see that you are what you say, said the Lady. She folded her hands together. I do not see why you are saying it. I do not like this news. The balance of power is delicate. Your coming signals a dangerous shift in the fiefs, whether or not what you say is true. What of the Guardian? Is she prepared to do her duty?

"The Guardian is dead," said Kew. "Many days ago now. I will take her place."

The Lady looked at her hands.

We all know nothing can tame the Beast except the Guardian, she said. The Guardian herself would not have done it for Obsidian. You are not the Guardian and cannot have done it. It is obvious that this is a lie on Obsidian's part. If she truly had possession of the wish, she would have built her own tower. She is foolish and does not know the ancient mysteries. She wants to sow doubt among us. I will not let that happen.

"The Beast is rising," said Kew. "Hawthorn knew it, and winter's fallen on Grey. I must tell the others as well."

You will not, said the Lady; Kew's forehead burned as she spoke. Obsidian was always too quicksilver. It is those instincts that have led to the fall of dynasties. Her chaos ends with me.

While her voice whispered in the air around them, their vision began to go dark. Only her four eyes were visible like a cluster of blue stars.

I am sending you to the tower, said the Lady; her cold hands came out of the darkness and a thumb touched each of them on the lips as if wiping away a bit of sauce. You will speak to nobody except the Willow Lady. She will decide what to do with you. The line of Guardians is too valuable to lose; you had better hope she does not punish your companion in your stead. I will see to Obsidian myself.

Her eyes closed, and the boys' vision brightened. Kew and Frin were at the bottom of a broad onyx staircase in a black hall. Rubbish and the remains of banners littered it. Dust and spiderwebs were everywhere. The staircase swept upward to a huge bull's-eye window, split, and ascended to galleries on either side of the room. Beyond the glass was one of the piers.

They were inside Black Tower, and they had a long way to go.