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\chapter{Lies}\label{chapter-8-lies}}



\epigraph{``Invading? Good Gods, of course not. We're merely manoeuvring.''}{Dread Empress Sinistra II ``the Coy'', after being hailed by the
garrison of Summerholm}



Archer hadn't changed at all since I last saw her. Fine white chainmail
went down from her throat to her knees, splitting in a skirt. Over it
she wore a long leather coat that came up in a hood that was currently
down. The dark green linen she'd covered her face with last time had not
been brought up, leaving open her exotic dark ochre face and hazelnut
eyes. Only people across the Tyrian Sea had that skin tone: not the
Baalites or the Yan Tei but those from some faraway land whose
inhabitants were known only as the tigermen. The pair of longknives at
her hips were sheathed and her ridiculously large longbow still strapped
to her back, along with a quiver full of arrows closer in size and
thickness to javelins than anything else. Even under the armour faint
curves could be glimpsed, and there was no denying she was almost as
good-looking as she thought she was.

``Lady Archer,'' Hakram greeted her respectfully.

She'd pretty much mauled him effortlessly on their first encounter,
which tended to leave positive impression on orcs. I brushed off
Archer's arm, frowning at her.

``Why are you here?'' I asked.

She ignored me, to my irritation. Huh. I wasn't used to people doing
that anymore. Whether they were my enemies or my friends, everyone paid
attention when I glared these days. That had a way of happening when
you'd killed as many people as I had.

``Sweetcheeks,'' she grinned at Masego. ``How are we?''

``Less than pleased by the appellation,'' Apprentice replied.

``It's a compliment,'' she assured him.

``Stop verbally molesting my people and answer the question,'' I said.

She glanced at me, still grinning.

``What's the magic word?'' she prompted.

For a heartbeat, I seriously debated ordering Masego to cast something
on her. Nothing lethal, just unpleasant. Her hair turning into snakes,
maybe. Would that be \emph{magic} enough for her? Ultimately I sighed.
This wasn't worth getting into a pissing match for.

``Please,'' I said.

``Well, since you asked nicely,'' Archer shrugged. ``I was headed for
your little city -- what's it called again, Marching, Mossboard? -- when
I spied with my little eye a bunch of very lost villains.''

She knew what the name was, I thought, meeting her eyes. She knew I knew
she knew what the name was. She was just pulling my strings because she
could. It was good to know that even if the better part of a year had
passed she was still a major pain in my ass.

``You are the poison ivy of people,'' I told her. ``Why were you headed
for Marchford?''

``Your boss called in her marker for the Hunter incident,'' Archer
replied. ``Asked Lady Ranger to send a fae expert.''

I smiled thinly.

``So where are they?'' I said.

Hakram snorted. Masego looked like he wanted to inform me Archer was the
expert even if he knew I was being sarcastic, but barely managed not to.

``That's hurtful, it is,'' she said, sounding pleased. ``My turn to ask
the questions then. Why in the all the bloody Hells are you lot this
deep in Arcadia?''

I blinked.

``How deep are we, exactly?'' Masego asked.

``Not as deep as yo could be, sweetcheeks,'' Archer replied without
missing a beat, wagging her eyebrows. ``But to put it in laymen's terms,
you're pretty close to Skade.''

``The seat of the Winter Court,'' Apprentice said, sounding surprised.
``That shouldn't be possible, we haven't wandered long enough.''

``This place seems to have a very loose definition of possible,'' Hakram
grunted.

``The orc gets it,'' Archer said.

``There's rules even in Arcadia,'' Masego said flatly.

``The rules in this neck of the woods are whatever the King of Winter
says they are,'' the woman shrugged.

``The implication being that the King wants us in Skade,'' I said
quietly. ``\emph{That's} going to end well.''

``Yeah, I meant to ask,'' Archer said. ``What did you guys do to piss
off the Winter Court? Did you abduct some of their people?''

``We didn't \emph{do} anything,'' I complained. ``They just showed up
one day, started invading my city and got really condescending about not
telling me why.''

Archer rolled her eyes.

``A few warbands is hardly an invasion,'' she said.

``Squire's not exaggerating,'' Hakram said. ``They've stated their
intention is to conquer Marchford.''

The ochre-skinned woman raised an eyebrow.

``That's\ldots{} unprecedented, as far as I know,'' she said. ``Fae mess
around with mortals outside Arcadia all the time, but they don't
\emph{stay} there as a rule. Are you sure you didn't piss them off
somehow?''

``I honestly can't think of a way I would have,'' I replied.

``Huh,'' she said. ``Well, you're still lucky in a way. You're stuck
with Winter and they're shit at fighting. Whatever poor bastard is stuck
with Summer is in for a rough ride.''

``The ones I've fought so far weren't pushovers,'' I said.

``If you'd been in a scrap with the host of High Noon you'd have a lot
more holes in your armour, Squire, and they'd still be smoking,'' she
said. ``Summer's the season of war. They always win the round against
Winter if it gets to a pitched battle.''

Ah, the familiar feeling of being in over my head and yet still
glimpsing another peril over the horizon that would be even worse. I was
depressing how used to that I'd gotten.

``That's a nightmare for another night,'' I said. ``If you were headed
for Marchford then you know a way out of here?''

``Sure,'' Archer said, and pointed towards the city.

It was still insolently glistening, but at least I had a name for it:
Skade. It was also apparently the seat of the Winter Court, so the way
my instincts had been screaming \emph{trap, trap, this is a trap} was
once again justified.

``Do you have a way out that \emph{doesn't} involve us dying
painfully?'' I asked.

``I was headed towards a gate before I saw the lot of you,'' Archer
said, ``but that's meaningless now. This close to Skade we're going
wherever the King wants us to go.''

``So if we walk in the other direction\ldots{}'' Hakram said, trailing
off.

``We'll get back here in a few hours,'' she said. ``Though if he's
pulling that sort of stuff at least he'd not meddling with time.''

I sighed. Was I ever going to meet some sort of all-powerful creature
that wasn't a real prick about it?

``So to Skade we go,'' I grunted.

Archer nodded.

``Better keep off the road,'' she said. ``Otherwise they'll see us
coming. Wait until night time and try to sneak through?''

I clenched my fingers, then unclenched them.

``We're taking the road,'' I said. ``Apprentice, you have parchment and
ink?''

``Oh thank the Gods,'' Masego muttered, then cleared his throat. ``Yes,
I do.''

``We're going to caught pretty early,'' Archer pointed out.

``Caught?'' I smiled. ``Why, we're not hiding. We were, after all,
invited.''

---

About an hour in we ran into a hunting party. Not in the sense that they
were hunting for us, but in the way that Callowan nobles hunted deer and
rabbit. There were a dozen fae, all mounted on too-perfect white horses,
but among those only four mattered. Two men and two women, colourfully
dressed where the others were in drab blue-grey and armour. The nobles
-- for I was relatively certain that was what they were -- immediately
took the lead and diverted their party towards us. Of them the first to
speak was a man dressed in a tunic of woven shade and starlight which
hurt to look at if I did it for too long. My companions spread out
warily, but as I'd told them to did not reach for their weapons.

``Well well well,'' the noble began. ``What have we-``

``\emph{Finally},'' I interrupted. ``You there, the ugly one. Dismount
immediately and give me your horse.''

I was careful not to point at any guard in particular, letting them
decided among themselves exactly who I'd been speaking to. There was a
flicker of surprise across all their faces. This was not, it seemed,
going the way they'd thought it would. Good.

``Pardon me,'' the man said. ``But what did you just say?''

``I \emph{ordered} your attendant to give me his horse,'' I corrected
haughtily. ``I have to say, the reception so far has been most
disappointing. I expected envoys to meet us at the border, not for us to
have to walk like peasants.''

``You are mortals,'' one of the ladies said, tone bemused.

``I am the Lady of Marchford,'' I sneered. ``Here at the personal
invitation of the King of Winter. Obviously you were sent to welcome us,
so surrender horses for myself and my retinue. We've wasted enough
time.''

There was a heartbeat of silence as they all stared at me. I offered
back my best impression of Heiress, silently conveying that to such a
hallowed personage as myself their mere presence was almost offensive.
One of the ladies smiled, her teeth looking more like a crescent moon
than bone.

``We welcome you to Arcadia Resplendent, Lady of Marchford,'' she said.
``I am the Marchioness of the Northern Wind. Please forgive the manners
of my uncouth companions.''

``There is nothing to forgive,'' I said, my frown heavily implying that
there \emph{was}.

``It will be our pleasure to escort you, my lady,'' the man who'd not
spoken added. ``Though it pains me to be so direct, may we see the
King's invitation? Since Winter has gone to war, none are allowed to
wander without one.''

``Of course,'' I replied dismissively. ``Servant, show them the
invitation.''

I gestured at Archer, who raised a mutinous eyebrow at me.

``Do not tarry, sullen wench,'' I said, savouring every syllable. ``Or
it's a smart blow to the ear for you.''

She glared at me and grit her teeth but took out the folded sheet of
parchment, handing it to a guard. Said guard rode closer to the nobles
and presented it. They looked at the parchment, then at us, then to the
parchment again. It was fake, of course. I'd known it would be pointless
to try to forge something that would pass muster, since we had no idea
if invitations like that even existed and what they \emph{would} look
like if they did. So I'd gone the other way and made it a
\emph{ridiculously obvious} fake. It was even signed `the King of
Winter', since none of us knew what his actual name was. I could see the
nobles wanted to immediately call us out on it, but they hesitated. I
smothered a grin. It was just like dealing with Praesi. It was a
transparent lie, so naturally there had to be something they were
missing. Was it a trap aimed at them, perhaps? A true invitation made to
look like a fake so they would offend and give pretext for execution?

``This is a false invitation,'' the first fae to have spoken finally
said, tone wary.

My companions stirred, preparing for a fight, but I'd bluffed with
thoroughly empty hands often enough to know not to react.

``Aleban, don't be obtuse,'' the Marchioness laughed. ``Of course it's
true, look at the signature.''

Aleban looked about to protest, then his eyes suddenly narrowed at the
Marchioness. The other male fae began to grin nastily and the other
woman steered her horse subtly away.

``Since the Marchioness of the Northern Wind states it is true, then it
must be,'' he said sneeringly. ``I am sure His Grace will be pleased
when you bring them to him for audience.''

``Oh, I would never dare overstep my station in this manner,'' the
Marchioness smiled. ``The Lady of Cracking Ice is the darling of the
Court, surely her hand is best suited for this task.''

Said Lady had been the one edging away and even as her face went
thunderous as the sudden swerve in conversation I could not help but
notice she was quite stunning. Most fae were subtly wrong, with faces
too narrow and eyes too large, but this one was outright ethereal. I was
almost reminded of Kilian by the cast of her face, though she had
sharper cheekbones and paler skin than my lover.

``I simply could not claim this privilege in the face of so many nobles
of superior rank,'' the Lady demurred. ``The Baron of Blue Lights
humbled us all with his singing last night, surely introducing such
hallowed guests would be another feather to his cap.''

``You are too kind, my lady,'' the fae who'd been grinning replied
smoothly. ``I am but a paltry courtier compared to the might that is the
Duke of Sudden Rime. Would it not be best for him to have this honour?''

Aleban, who was apparently a duke, smiled serenely.

``You are too humble, my good Baron,'' he said. ``No one but you is a
match for this task. Do you not agree, Marchioness?''

``Oh, most definitely,'' she said, deploying a fan of pure ivory with a
flick of the wrist and hiding her vicious smile.

``It is agreed, then,'' the Lady of Cracking Ice murmured.

See, that was my favourite part of dealing with schemers. They always
thought too deeply, and when it made them uncertain they immediately
began passing the potential backfire to someone else. Fae were supposed
to be the trickiest creatures in existence: if there was even a speck of
uncertainty they'd make sure none of the fallout could mar the hem of
their dress. We weren't out of the pit yet, of course. Even if they went
along with it now that didn't mean they wouldn't turn their cloaks the
moment we entered Skade and claim they'd been toying with us all along.
Got us in the city, though, and that was the first step.

``All of you show me such favour,'' the Baron said calmly. ``I will not
soon forget it, I assure you.''

The guard returned the `invitation' to Archer, who looked like she
really wanted to stab someone in the face. I hid my glee behind a
dignified façade. Ignore me, would she? My vengeance would be as swift
as it was petty. Our escort ordered guards to dismount and I paused a
moment when I realized that unlike mortal riders, none of them used
spurs or even a saddle. There was just a beautiful silk blanket.
\emph{Not using the horse for a getaway then}, I thought. I was a more
than decant rider these days, but I'd never tried it without a saddle.
My companions mounted after I did, with varying degrees of success.
Hakram was pleased his horse hadn't begun blindly panicking the moment
he approached and Archer was a better rider than me by the looks of it.
Masego, on the other hand, was hugging his mount's flanks and looking
pale.

``Apprentice,'' I said, bringing my mount to his side.

``This is unnatural,'' he muttered back. ``Mages walk or fly. This horse
business is just asking for a broken neck.''

``Sounds like you've got it under control,'' I lied.

``Is there an issue, Lady of Marchford?'' the Baron asked.

I smiled blandly.

``None at all,'' I said. ``By all means, my lord baron, take us to
Skade.''

``It will be my pleasure,'' the fae replied darkly, to the amusement of
the other nobles.

We set out down the road, the fairies leading the way, and Archer rode
closer to me.

``\emph{Sullen wench}?'' she hissed.

``You're right,'' I replied pensively. ``That was a bit much. I take
back the sullen.''

---

I'd seen quite a few beautiful places, in my time.

I'd seen the Silver Lake under moonlight, when it was most deserving of
its name. I'd seen the royal palace of Laure, stone and tapestry and
centuries of power. I'd walked the halls of the Tower, where opulence
was a given and horror lurked behind every drape. Even the Wasteland had
been beautiful in its own harsh way, flickering from storm to blinding
sun in the span of a bell. None of them held a candle to Skade. Arcadia
was not Creation, and so not bound by its rules. The Winter Court had
taken this to heart when it had built its seat. Archways carved from
snowstorms, streets made of solid glistening water and even auroras
turned into lanterns: it was madness, but a madness utterly bewitching.
I could see trees made of ice with leaves of stone that shook in the
breeze, bridges of mist linking towers that were solid a moment and gone
the next. The gate into Skade was an archway of ever-shifting ice, a
high relief that changed the stories it depicted with every look. And in
front of it, in two unmoving rows, stood Swords of Waning Day. The same
soldiers I'd fought in Marchford, made a silent honour guard. Our party
rode up a gentle slope, headed for avenues inside.

Then the first soldiers unsheathed their swords.

For a moment I panicked, but kept my face calm. If this came to a fight
we weren't making it out alive: Hakram and I had struggled enough with
two, two hundred were far beyond our capacity to handle. Any notion they
were taking those out for a salute was dismissed when they turned
towards us. No, I noticed after a moment. Not \emph{us}. Archer. Who did
not look particularly surprised.

``Soldiers, what is the meaning of this?'' the Duke of Sudden Rime
asked.

``This one smells of the Darkest Night,'' one replied, pointing his
sword at Archer.

The woman cleared her throat, gave me a sideways look.

``The Lady of the Lake has visited Skade in the past,'' she said. ``She,
uh, might have left an impression.''

The deadwood soldiers hissed like angry cats when she mentioned the
Ranger's title. From the corner of my eye I could see the fae nobles
exchanging glances. They looked surprised, then cast very wary looks in
my direction. Oh, right. I'd called a pupil of the Ranger a sullen wench
and threatened to slap her around. They had to be wondering who the
Hells I was to be able to get away with that. I smiled prettily in their
direction, which seemed to unsettle them even more.

``She's with me,'' I said. ``And will not fight unless provoked.''

``Her mistress took the Prince of Nightfall's eye and \emph{set it on a
ring},'' the soldier barked.

``It makes for very tasteful jewellery, if that's any consolation,''
Archer said.

``So this is what dying stupidly feels like,'' Hakram mused.

``I'm sure Lady Ranger will give it back if he asks nicely,'' I lied.
``Regardless, Archer is part of my retinue. She is not to be touched.''

``Who are you to-`` the soldier began, before a fracture line ran along
the length of his body.

His eyes widened, then he fell into a shower of shards.

``I am bored with this interlude,'' the Lady of Cracking Ice said.
``Shall we proceed?''

We did, and the soldiers gave us a wide berth. I leaned towards Archer.

``And Summer is worse?'' I asked.

``Way worse,'' she said grimly, then lowered her voice. ``So we're in
the city. What's the plan now?''

``The situation is fluid,'' I replied. ``We're keeping our options
open.''

``I was afraid you'd say that,'' Hakram cursed.

I smiled winningly at my companions.