The Dark Remains Read Online Free Page A

hand. Then, as if remembering in whose company he stood, he hastily changed the motion and straightened the yellow sash slung over his shoulder instead. “It is not my place to suppose the mind of Her Good Majesty.” His voice was overloud, as if he believed it might be overhead.
    “Of course,” Lirith said. “Thank you for this service, guardsman. We shall attend the queen at once.”
    Aryn felt a firm tug on her left arm as Lirith pulled her through the gate.
    “What is it?” Aryn whispered. “Do you think she knows that we went to see the Mournish?”
    “Don’t be foolish, sister. Ivalaine doesn’t have a magic mirror. There’s no way she could know where we went. If she is displeased with us, then it is merely for answering late to her summons. So let us make haste.”
    Aryn swallowed, wishing she could be as confident, but she said nothing more as they hurried through the castle. Unlike the dark, smoky corridors of Calavere, the vaulted halls of Ar-tolor were airy, lined with slender arches and rows of high windows that let in the silver-gray twilight.
    “My ladies,” said a rumbling voice behind them.
    The two women skidded to a halt, then turned to gaze into somber brown eyes. Aryn winced. They had completely forgotten about Durge.
    “If my assistance is no longer needed, I believe I shall retire.”
    “Of course, Durge,” Aryn said breathlessly.
    The Embarran gave a stiff nod, then started to turn away.
    “My lord,” Lirith said, halting him with a touch. “Thank you for accompanying us today.”
    He nodded, then disengaged his arm and walked down the corridor, his sooty form melding with the gloom.
    Inwardly, Aryn groaned. Why hadn’t she thought to thank Durge? After all, she was the one who had dragged him to see the Mournish against his advice. Now, if they got into trouble, it was likely the blame would fall on him. How could she be so cruel and forgetful?
    But perhaps it was not so unusual after all.
    You have forgotten about one who bore pain for you
.…
    It was true, there were those who had suffered for her sake, but Aryn had not forgotten them. She would never forget dear Garf, who had died trying to protect her from a mad bear. Or the brave and broken Sir Meridar, who had sacrificed himself to save Tira and Daynen, and to prove himself worthy in Aryn’s eyes. And certainly she would never forget Leothan.
    A chill stole through her, as it always did when she thought of last Midwinter’s Eve, when the handsome nobleman she had fancied had drawn her into a side chamber and kissed her. For a moment it had seemed all her dreams had come true. Until he had forced himself against her, revealing himself as an ironheart. Then had come the fury, and along with it a power she had never known she had, flowing from her and turning Leothan’s brain to jelly. She had always believed evil was something that dwelled in the hearts of others; never until that moment had she known it resided within her own as well.
    No, she would never forget that night—
could
never forget it. More likely the old Mournish woman was simply daft.
    Then what of the card, Aryn? It was just the same as the vision you saw when Ivalaine bade you look into the water that day in Calavere. How could the old woman have known about that?
    Before she could think of an answer, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
    “Come sister,” Lirith said. “The queen is expecting us.”
    As servants lit torches, filling the passages with warm light, the two women hastened through the castle.
    High, bubbling laughter rang out.
    Aryn and Lirith skidded to a halt as a gangly form clad in yellow and green sprang from an alcove, turned a flip in midair, and landed before them with a chiming of silver bells.
    “Master Tharkis!” Aryn gasped.
    The scrawny man flashed rotten teeth in a grin, spread his arms, and bowed so low his pointed chin touched the floor. “Two evening birds, one brown and one blue, fly to their lady’s nest.” He