Blackveil Page 7


“My daughter, Rider Sir Karigan G’ladheon!” He grinned. Then sobering, he said, “Karigan, I understand the Coutre award, but this is above and beyond. What aren’t you telling us? Did you save the entire kingdom again?”

Karigan squirmed in her chair. “Well, Lady Estora is the king’s betrothed ...” When she saw this wasn’t going to mollify him, she added, “I helped stop the Second Empire thugs in the castle. The king was very pleased.”

Her father sat back in his chair. Wind gusted down the chimney, scattering ashes on the hearth and causing the fire to flare. The juices of the roasting goose hissed.

“That’s it? You’re not going to tell us how? Is it a secret?”

She almost said, Well, after I helped rescue Lady Estora, the death god’s steed came to me and led me through the “white world,” where we bypassed time and distance to reach the castle. I was then made an honorary Weapon and got to wear black, so I’d be permitted to enter the tombs without being forced to become a caretaker and live out my life dusting the dead. I chased the thugs through the royal tombs while pretending to be a ghost. I fought them and rescued a magical book that may or may not help us repair the breach in the D’Yer Wall. If it does, then we’re all saved!

I then took a nap in the future sarcophagus of our future queen because I was very tired and bleeding all over the place—oh, did I mention almost having my hand chopped off earlier? But that’s a whole different story! Anyway, I dreamed about the dead rising. That’s what I remember, and is it surprising considering where I was? When I woke up, the magic book gave us quite an eyeful.

And that, she reflected, was not the half of it. However, rather than reveal her true thoughts, she asked, almost pleading, “Can’t you just be happy for me?”

“I am, I am!” he replied. “I just worry, and you never say much about your work.”

“She’s got another land grant with the knighting,” Aunt Brini broke in, as she scoured the king’s letter. “Anywhere in the realm.”

Karigan saw the light flicker in her father’s eyes, the slight smile, as if he calculated to what advantage he could use her land grants for the clan business. It was a wonder he wasn’t rubbing his hands together. The diversion, however, proved short-lived.

“Will you not tell us how you inspired such notice from the king?” he asked.

If only her father knew how loaded a question that was, and how much she wanted to pound her head on the table. “There’s not much to say about it.” The lie rang hollow even to herself.

“I don’t believe it for a minute,” her father said. “You are keeping things from us.”

Karigan squirmed in her chair. Why couldn’t he leave off? He certainly kept his own share of secrets, so how dare he demand that she reveal her own?

“Like how you never bothered to tell me you crewed a pirate ship?” she blurted.

Ominous silence followed.

Oops, she thought. She hadn’t meant to broach the subject so abruptly, but there it was now, right out in the open. No preamble, no gentle prodding, no hiding.

Cook hastened to the cutting board and her parsnips, and her aunts scattered, making themselves busy elsewhere in the kitchen, but all within earshot even as they pretended not to be listening.

“I planned to tell you about that,” her father said after a few moments.

“When?”

“Well, I ... Soon. I wanted to wait till you were old enough.”

“How old? Like when I’m eighty?”

“No, of course not. I—How did you find out?” He glanced at his sisters in accusation, and they filled the kitchen with loud denials, waving spoons and knives in emphasis.

Before someone got hurt by an errant utensil, Karigan said, “You don’t realize how close this information came to damaging the clan. The king knows.”

That quieted everyone down.

“What? How?”

“The Mirwells dug it up, a crew list for a known pirate ship, the Gold Hunter. Timas—Lord Mirwell—sent it to the king.”

“But why? Why would he?”

“I’m not sure,” Karigan said. “Except Timas Mirwell hates me. He has since school, and he probably decided to get back at me by trying to disgrace the clan.” He’d given her the message to deliver to the king. She, of course, had no idea of what she carried at the time. It was only after the knighting ceremony that she learned of it from one of the king’s advisors.

“Damnation,” her father muttered. “Aristocrats. Aristocrats and their games of intrigue.”

“We’re fortunate the king thinks highly enough of your service to the realm that he’s dropping the matter,” Karigan said. “But if Mirwell, or someone else, decides to make public accusations, it could be embarrassing. I destroyed the crew list, but it could still look bad even without the proof.”

“I see.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry you learned about it this way. I should have told you.”

“I wish you had,” Karigan murmured.

“At least you know now,” he said.

“Yes, but none of the details.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Then you should have no trouble telling me all about it now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I see knighthood has done little to gentle your tenacious curiosity.”

“Father.”

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