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She nodded. “At least some hint. Instead I’ve a puzzle to unravel.” She had thought it sounded obscure, something like what an Eletian would say, and now it occurred to her that maybe the one person who could help her figure it out was Lhean. If so, that meant it was more important than ever for her to retrieve him from the hands of Dr. Silk.
“Thank you,” Cade said.
“What? What for?”
“I am told that while I was unconscious, you were willing to defend me.”
Now that Karigan thought of it, it had been rather rash, challenging virtually all those Weapons when she hadn’t even the bonewood to hand. “You can return the favor some day,” she said, trying to sound light.
“I will,” he replied with a fervor that surprised her. He leaned closer to her, their shoulders almost touching. “If you cannot find your way home, I will do my utmost to see you comfortably settled and safe. Not that you can’t protect yourself, but our ways here are different, harder for a woman. You understand that a woman here is not allowed to own property?”
Karigan nodded. She had gathered as much.
“That means not even her clothes or any wages she might earn. It all goes to her nearest male relative. Here, you are practically owned by your uncle.”
“Who is not really my uncle, but I see your point.”
“And if you married—”
“I’d be owned by my husband.”
“It is a coarse way to look at it, yes, but it is the emperor’s law that it is so. It would be difficult for you on your own. I would see that you were not simply left to fend for yourself.”
What exactly was he saying? That he’d be willing to take her on as his property? “Won’t you have your hands full with Arhys?”
There was a fierce glint in his eyes. “Of anyone, you would understand that duty.”
“I suppose. But Cade, I intend to reach home or—die trying.” And she would not be owned by anyone, not even Cade.
He hung his head, trailing his fingers over Scruffy’s fur. “I selfishly wish you would stay. Or fail in your endeavor without dying.”
Karigan stared at her knees. “I’m afraid it would kill me to stay.” And, she wondered, would he even be allowed to leave the tombs this night? Would he even be there for her in the outside world if she couldn’t get home?
“I would hope that I could make it worth living for you.”
She gaped at him, but before she could gather her thoughts, the Heroes Portal swung open, and she stood hastily. Maybe too hastily. Cade rose more slowly, depositing Scruffy on the log. When Cade swayed on his feet, she grabbed his arm to steady him.
“I’m fine,” he said. Then he whispered, “It would look better to the Weapons if you weren’t holding me up.”
She let go, wondering if it would look better if he fell flat on his face, but he managed to remain upright. They met Chelsa, Serena, and Joff by the portal, the other Weapons returning from the misty woods to surround them.
Chelsa’s hood was up again, but Karigan detected a smile. “This has been a most extraordinary meeting,” the caretaker said, “and one that shall be recorded in our histories and be preserved for as long as . . . for as long as the tombs survive.” Her smile faltered. “If only the opposition could act to truly halt Silk’s excavation.” She shook her head.
“I will try to encourage Professor Josston to do so,” Cade said, “without giving you away, of course.”
Karigan glanced at him in surprise. He had told the Weapons the professor’s name, and of his link to the opposition?
“I trust that is so, Mr. Harlowe,” Chelsa said. “As a matter of fact, I have just been discussing you with Joff and Serena.”
Karigan shifted her grip on the bonewood. Just in case.
“They told me that you claimed some interesting things—that you are training in the arts of a Weapon under Professor Josston, and why.”
Karigan glanced again at Cade, now doubly surprised. He would share the secret of Arhys?
“We had lost hope and believed the royal line had succumbed,” Chelsa continued. “We lost track of the line after Queen Estora’s escape with her son. It gladdens us to hear that the line is not lost. I do wonder how it is you felt you could trust us with this information.”
Karigan wondered, too.
“Because.” Cade swept his hand through the air at the portal, at the Weapons. “Because you are who you are. You are of the old realm. The Weapons of the old realm would believe in protecting the royal heir.”
“As we discussed earlier,” Joff said, “it is more than the royal heir we protect.”
“Yes, I know.”
Karigan wondered what exactly she had missed while she was inside with Chelsa. She’d always had an inkling that Weapon loyalties were not necessarily tied to the sovereign, but to whatever other secrets they were sworn to keep and protect. From the bits and pieces she had picked up, it had to do with shielding the realm from the misuse of magic. The Order of the Black Shields had originated, after all, during the Long War when such terrible magicks had torn the land apart.
“You have gambled by trusting us,” Chelsa insisted.
“A gamble, perhaps, but one with excellent odds,” Cade replied. “Miss—Sir Karigan revealed her true identity to you. That, too, was a huge gamble, but you have not threatened her in any way, and you treat her as befitting her station. If you were worthy of her trust, you are worthy of mine. You are of the old realm. I see it, I believe it.”
