A Mother's Secrets

by Tuppence Van de Vaarst

  She didn’t have the patience to fumble with a light for her candle. She reached inside and twisted, snapping her fingers. A small spark and the candle lit. She grabbed the shawl beside her bed with shaking hands and wrapped it around herself. Taking the candle, she started for the library, her bare feet padding softly on the floor.

  One of Niara’s tales, that was what she needed. Or maybe her father’s book. Studying: that would distract her.

  The fire in the library was still burning, though it had died down from the blaze it had been during the day. Only small embers remained, dancing with the occasional pretty flame. It was still enough to illuminate the room, though, and with her candle, enough to read by. She sat her candle down on the small table next to her chair with a sigh of relief.

  “Vinet?”

  She whirled. Who would be the library at this hour?

  Nazir rose from one of the chairs where he had been ensconced with a book and candle. His face was full of concern. “Vinet, are you alright? What’s wrong?”

  She stepped back a pace, her heart still pounding. She couldn’t face him now. Not like this. Gwyn had been right. This was too dangerous. She fancied him. But she couldn’t talk to him now! Not like this!

  He took a step towards her, and she flinched. “I’m fine.” She cursed inwardly. Her voice was trembling. Nazir was far too observant for his own good. He was sure to notice.

  Nazir stopped and tilted his head to the side. “Vinet,” he said softly. “You don’t have to tell me. But you’re as pale as a ghost. I almost thought you were a ghost. Maybe I can help?”

  His kindness was too much. She covered her face with her hands and headed for her chair by the fire. Its familiar comfort enveloped her as she sat. She stayed there for a moment, trembling in every limb, letting the heat from the dying fire warm her. She heard, more than saw, Nazir make his way hesitantly to the chair next to her.

  He didn’t speak. Why didn’t he speak? Why didn’t he ask? If he had, she could have defended herself. But this… she couldn’t withstand this.

  “I’m cursed,” she said softly.

  She heard Nazir start, and looked up into his startled eyes. “I’m not being melodramatic. I am. I had an… accident. I got in over my head. And it left me with… these…” she shuddered, “nightmares.”

  Nazir reached hesitantly towards her shoulder. She grasped his hand with her own, grateful of any human contact. It anchored her, stabilized her. She could remember which world she lived in.

  “What kind of curse?” Nazir asked. “If it’s a simple one, there are mages who specialize in removing such things.”

  She swallowed. “If only it were that simple,” she whispered. She met his eyes again. “Nazir, it… this curse…” she couldn’t get the words out. He was a devout Mazdian. He had found sanctuary in the Temple of Mazda as a child. How would he react if he knew?

  His eyes were kind and understanding. “Vinet, it’s alright,” he said softly.

  She looked down. Then slowly, she stood up, leaving her shawl in her chair. She felt Nazir’s eyes on her as she turned her back to him and started unlacing the back of her shift.

  “Vinet?” Nazir’s voice was startled. Vinet ignored him until the laces were untied past her shoulders.

  “Between my shoulder blades,” she whispered.

  She heard Nazir stand up and walk closer. She wrapped her arms around herself, bracing herself for any reaction, for shouts, questions, curses, and demands for information. But all she heard was a quick intake of breath.

  She waited, trembling, but he said nothing. Finally, she couldn’t stand it and looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m no Manyu-worshipper,” she said. “But he marked me. I’m protected during the day, but at night…”

  Nazir’s face was blank, a picture of shock. She waited for him to say something, anything, but he just stood there, unmoving. She turned away and tried to lace up her shift again. She nearly cried as her hands shook so badly that she dropped the laces.

  Suddenly she felt other hands on hers, warm, steady hands that took the laces from her and deftly tied them. She stood still, shaking slightly, until Nazir gently tugged her shoulder to get her to turn and face him.

  “Is there any way to remove it?” he asked.

  She risked a glance at his face. There was no judgment there, only concern and sympathy. She nearly collapsed in relief. He believed her.

  “The most powerful mage I know could only place those protections,” she said. She swallowed. She knew nothing of AeresThonEsia’s motivations. “Or else, that’s all she wanted to do.”

  He nodded slowly. “Maybe there is knowledge out there that we do not have.” He smiled suddenly, and despite herself Vinet felt her spirits lifting. “There’ll be a way.”

  She managed to return the smile, although even she could tell it was small and shaky. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He smiled at her a moment longer. “Will you be able to sleep now? Would you like something? Tea, perhaps? Or something stronger? I can raid the kitchens for you.”

  She managed a laugh, feeling her tension draining away. She was exhausted. “I think… I actually think I might be able to sleep now.” She blinked, surprised. “This helped.”

  Nazir nodded. “I’m glad,” he said.

  They stood there together, a little awkward. Vinet knew she should head back to her room. She should heed Gwyn’s warning and not get too close to this strange outcast scholar, but something held her there.

  Nazir moved first. “I should let you get to sleep,” he said. “Goodnight, Vinet.”

  Before she could react, he leaned down and kissed her briefly on the lips. She stared at him in shock as he turned and walked out of the room. The sensation lasted, tingling as she brought her fingers to her lips.

  Feeling more unsteady than before, she carefully lowered herself into her chair. She couldn’t sleep now. She fumbled briefly for the book her father gave her. Study, that would take her mind off things, she would be able to ignore what had just happened, she would…

  She sat there for hours, staring at the fire. When Gwyn found her in the morning, her father’s book was still unopened on the table next to her.

  Chapter 13: A Secret Trip

  “Vinet, are you certain about this?”

  Vinet didn’t look up from her packing. “I’m certain,” she said firmly. “Pack a small bag. We’re going in secret.”

  She could see Gwyn’s trepidation, but she didn’t back down. She’d had steady nightmares for the past week, and she could no longer stand the cries of the screaming baby. They were going to Venia.

  Gwyn sighed. “I wish you’d take a guard.”

  “I am. You.” She did not want an escort that would draw attention to herself. Some of the other council members surely employed spies. The Faithful, if they weren’t all involved in the southern conflict, also. The Unfaithful probably did as well. She didn’t want anyone to know where she was going.

  Gwyn sighed. “Mazda’s light, Vinet, you’re worrying me.”

  Vinet finally looked up to meet Gwyn’s eyes. “There’s a newborn child somewhere in Venia,” she said. “Somehow, it’s connected to this darkness from Mount Halon. I do not want anyone else finding out about this until I’ve had a chance to verify whether it’s a threat or not.” Her voice cracked. She didn’t think she could stand it if a small child truly was a threat.

  Gwyn looked at her sadly. “It wasn’t your fault, Vinet.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. Although she hadn’t seen it, the assassination had been described often enough. Kianna, three arrows in her chest and throat. And the unborn child.

  She opened her eyes again as Gwyn walked across the room. She blinked as a packet was thrust towards her.

  “Commoner’s clothing,” Gwyn said. “If we’re going secretly, we’re going in disguise.”

  Vinet blinked, feeling her eyes start to sting. “Thank you, Gwyn,” she whispered.

 
Gwyn shook her head. “Don’t thank me yet,” she said. “We’ve got a long way to go. How do you plan on getting to Venia? The road will be full of soldiers, and someone is bound to recognize you, commoner’s clothing or not.”

  She smiled grimly. “We’ll go to Hillsdale,” she said, “and take a ship from there. The trade blockade is over, ships have been going in and out of Venia for months now. Providing us quite the trade revenue.” She added that last sentence with bitter satisfaction. She had fought tooth and nail for trade, and the peace and prosperity it was bringing to the west was welcome validation.

  Gwyn sighed again. “You’ve planned this all out, haven’t you? Does your seneschal know?”

  “I told him this morning,” Vinet said. “He knows to cover for me for two weeks. It shouldn’t take us any longer than that.”

  “Three days ride to Hillsdale, two days sail to Venia… we should be fine,” Gwyn muttered. “Very well. I’m ready.”

  Vinet glanced up, startled. She’d been so absorbed in her own packing she hadn’t even seen the small pack Gwyn had slung over her shoulder.

  Gwyn shrugged. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to convince you not to do this if you’d thought about it.”

  Vinet smiled in relief. “Then let’s go.”

  They walked side by side through the castle. Vinet had already said goodbye to Niara. Her daughter wasn’t happy about her mother disappearing for two weeks, but had accepted it.

  They had reached the gates when she heard Nazir hail her. She turned to see him walking up to join them. Tall and dark, he was dressed in his old travel garments, a small pack on his back.

  “Nazir,” Vinet couldn’t deny the relief that filled her chest.

  Gwyn glared at him. “What are you doing here?”

  Nazir seemed determined. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Absolutely not,” Gwyn hissed.

  Vinet held out a hand to Gwyn and met Nazir’s eyes. “Do you know where we’re going?” she asked.

  Nazir shook his head. “No. But you’re going in secret, and it’s probably dangerous, so I’m coming with you.”

  Gwyn opened her mouth to argue, and Vinet waved her to silence. She looked into Nazir’s eyes for a long moment. There was sincerity there and concern, but also understanding and determination. If she didn’t let him come along, he would follow.

  She nodded. “Alright,” she said.

  “Vinet!”

  Vinet turned to whisper in Gwyn’s ear. “It’s either this or he follows us. At least this way you can keep an eye on him.”

  Gwyn looked at her suspiciously, then transferred her gaze to Nazir. Nazir let out a sigh of relief before falling into step with them.

  “So where are we going?” he asked.

  “Venia,” Vinet said.

  He raised his eyebrows. “What for?”

  “To find a child I saw in my visions,” she answered. “When we get there, I’ll use the Sight to…”

  “Absolutely not!”

  Vinet turned at Gwyn’s sudden outburst. “What?”

  “The last time you used the Sight, you took two days to recover,” Gwyn said fiercely. “I won’t have you using it again so far from home.”

  Vinet opened her mouth to protest.

  “I agree,” Nazir said quietly.

  Vinet transferred her startled gaze to him.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You need to practice more. Preferably under the guidance of your father. Do you know what he meant by grounding?”

  “Yes, I…”

  “And you haven’t slept for a week,” Gwyn cut in. “No Sight, Vinet. Not unless it is desperately necessary. You said she’s in a hovel, yes? We’ll search on foot.”

  There was no way she was going to win an argument with the two of them united. “Alright,” she agreed unwillingly.

  “Good,” Gwyn nodded in satisfaction, and Nazir looked relieved.

  **********

  “There’s something following us. Something in the sky.”

  Vinet looked curiously at the ship captain. The two-day voyage to Venia was nearly over. Why would he only mention something following them now?

  He shook his head ominously. “My men have seen a dark shape. Been strange reports on these waters. Makes them nervous.”

  Gwyn laughed. “How many times have you done this voyage, captain?”

  He tugged his mustache. “Oh, I don’t know. At least twice as many times as you are old, miss.”

  “Then you have absolutely nothing to worry about,” Gwyn said with all appearance of confidence. “Besides, we’re almost to Venia, aren’t we?”

  The captain nodded, not looking reassured in any way. “Aye, that’s true. Time to get the lads on the oars, then!”

  He strode off, grumbling to himself under his breath. Vinet raised an eyebrow at Gwyn.

  “Sailor’s superstition,” Gwyn muttered. “They can’t have an uneventful voyage. There always has to be something wrong.”

  Instinctively, Vinet turned her eyes to Nazir. He shrugged, but she could see the uncertainty in his eyes.

  “These are the trade routes that explorer, Jimesseran, sailed, yes?” Nazir asked.

  She hesitated. “He left from Venia and went north,” she said finally. “Past Hillsdale, up the coast.”

  Their eyes met, and she suppressed a shudder. Jimesseran had written about something dark in the sky, convinced it was a dragon.

  She glanced skyward. They were only a few hours from Venia. Surely Gwyn was right. It was only sailor’s superstition.

  Gwyn’s opinion seemed to be born out, as they landed without any trouble. As they disembarked, Vinet took the captain aside for a quiet word.

  “Would it be possible for you to stay here a day longer and head back to Hillsdale tomorrow rather than this evening?” she asked.

  The captain blinked. He knew her identity. She’d paid him well to conceal it.

  “Of course, my lady,” he said quietly.

  She smiled and fished out a few coins from her purse. “Thank you,” she said. “And remember…”

  “No one knows you’re here,” the captain laid a finger against his nose and winked. “Aye, my lady. I’ll remember.”

  She gave him a smile and disembarked with Gwyn and Nazir. They were heading to a district she’d never been, not even during her last foray in Venia. The hovels and slums were not an area where a noble lady usually went.

  She tried not to feel awkward in her borrowed clothing. It wasn’t that she hadn’t worn commoner’s clothing before. In fact, whenever she negotiated trade deals, she preferred to do so, as it usually helped her relations with the merchants. But those were still high-quality dresses that emphasized the wealth of Ninaeva. This was common-spun linen, and she had to keep herself from scratching the back of her neck. It helped them blend in, at least. Nazir still got strange looks, but neither she or Gwyn warranted a second glance. Well, Gwyn did, occasionally. But she couldn’t help her striking looks. Evalynna is a lucky woman, Vinet thought.

  Vinet winced as her foot sank several inches into the mud, grateful she’d worn her proper traveling boots, at least. She’d hate to be going barefoot, like most of the people who lived in this quarter. She tried not to look too hard at the children running about. They were skin and bones and barely half-dressed, even though Manyu’s Time still wasn’t over. Papsukkal, the new year, wasn’t for a month yet.

  She hadn’t left herself much time to get back to the capital before the next council session. She’d have to leave almost immediately after getting home, assuming they found the woman in this maze-like slum. It didn’t help that the hovels looked the same. All of them were ramshackle places that looked like they were held together by straw and thread. It must have rained that last night, as well. The mud was six inches deep in places. Vinet was grateful for the wool cloak wrapped around her shoulders. That was the one clothing item she hadn’t compromised on. Then again, neither had Gwyn or Nazir. Gwyn’s, at least, had the additional benefit
of concealing her sword.

  “Do you have anything to help us narrow down the search?” Gwyn asked.

  She shook her head. “If I used the Sight…” she began.

  Both Gwyn and Nazir shook their heads in firm disapproval. Vinet sighed and looked about. She did not like their chances of doing this on foot, not when she had only a vague image of what the woman looked like.

  Still, she followed Gwyn, slogging up and down the back streets, meeting the eye of every young woman of childbearing years. Each time was a disappointment. She was getting tired. But she couldn’t give up without finding the woman!

  She slowed her walk. Gwyn and Nazir were both ahead of her. For the moment, they were focused on their surroundings, not on her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The world spun, and everything seemed to crash loudly together.

  She was by a lake, a calm mirror of trees. Rich grass cushioned her bare feet. A soft green dress, made of a fabric she couldn’t identify, was her only garment. Ancient trees loomed over her. She could hear their whispers despite the whirlwind; the whirlwind that didn’t disturb the water of the lake, or the leaves of the trees, or her dress or hair. It was only sound.

  Then, a single ripple in the center of the lake. A hundred lily pads broke the surface, forming a path out to the lake’s center from the shore at her feet.

  “Approach.” The voice was firm, female, demanding, and commanding.

  She hesitated a fraction of a second, then placed a bare foot on the first lily pad. As she did, it withdrew, and she fell face first into the water.

  It was neither cold nor warm, nor did it feel like any water she’d ever swum in before. She wasn’t floating. She couldn’t float. A rising panic caused her to open her mouth, and a distinct taste of copper, of blood, consumed her. The color of the lake went from easy blue to angry green to empty blackness. She was sinking, sinking. There was a sharp pain between her shoulder blades, over and over again, settling to a consistent throb.

  “Pawn.” The voice echoed dully in her mind. More pain. Two voices…no, three…in her mind, in the darkness all about. Each was filled with fury and surety, a pulsing argument. She couldn’t understand anything. The argument was threatening to tear her in two!