by Emma Miles
She nodded, staring at the torn paper as though to force it to give up its secrets.
Azrael melted slowly out of the fireplace so as not to startle them.
‘Anything?’ Jorrun asked.
Azrael made himself small. ‘He fell asleep almost at once.’
Jorrun sighed. ‘I suppose that’s a good thing. Okay, let’s get started.’
Jorrun lit his candles and with a thin-lipped smile at Kesta, threw some herbs onto the fire and lay down in the centre of his symbolic star.
Kesta watched him breathing for a while, it was some time before the muscles in his body relaxed. The wood in the fireplace snapped, making her jump, and she quietly moved Dryn’s ledger and opened it, looking for any names she knew. She stopped when she got to Feren, running her finger down the words and leaning closer to the page. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Azrael move over to one of the lamps to drink the oil. Feren seemed to be of pure Chem blood. She flicked through to Dryn himself, feeling a sense of revulsion as she touched the page. Dryn’s mother had been of Fulmer descent. Another stolen woman. She shuddered.
She jumped up as Jorrun stirred, going to the nearest candle on the carpet and kneeling down. His eyes moved beneath his closed lids and the fingers of one hand twitched before he sat up with a gasp, his blue eyes going straight to Kesta’s.
‘You’re all right?’
He nodded, a frown on his face. ‘I need to think a moment, that dream was somewhat … foggy.’
She fetched him a glass of water and he waved at her to step inside the star set out on the carpet. Kesta sat beside him and Azrael hovered closer.
‘Anything?’ Kesta prompted, her concern growing.
‘Yes, actually.’ Jorrun tapped at her leg. ‘Our guest has a certain amount of loyalty to Feren, but there is no friendship there. His mission is actually as he says, to give a personal invitation to Arkoom, but he has his own motivation to look out for a Seat he can steal for himself. Thankfully he has decided we are much too strong and has taken our threat of Elden and Fulmer support seriously.’ He glanced at Kesta, his fingers clenching and uncurling. ‘He is disgusted, furious even, at our giving women power and protection. I … I won’t tell you of his thoughts, he has been wise in keeping them to himself.’
‘Sadly, I’m sure he isn’t the only one thinking them.’ She sighed. ‘This is going to take a very long time.’
He touched her jaw with two fingers to turn her head to face him. He kissed her, then took her hand to pull her to her feet. ‘But it’s not impossible. Come on, let’s try to get some sleep.’
***
Thankfully Gerant left before midday and Kesta selfishly left Osun and Jorrun to deal with him, sticking to her usual routine of getting the women to practice their magic. Five of them could now quickly call fire and a further two had just opened up their minds to let in magic, including Kussim. The young woman was still somewhat reserved but had begun to speak more when there were no men about. Kesta could see how much her reticence hurt both Jorrun and Osun, but she knew that rushing her would do no good.
Kesta got them to start trying to summon wind so they could form protective shields. Normally a walker wouldn’t start such training for months after developing magical ability, but they didn’t have the time to refine each small skill to perfection. It was a frustrating time for all of them. Jorrun came in to help with the lessons on a couple of occasions, but his presence proved to be more disruptive than helpful.
Farkle lost his battle against his illness on the same day a letter arrived from his son to say it wouldn’t be safe for him to travel to Navere. Osun locked himself away in his room that day, leaving Jorrun and Kesta to run things with Calayna and Jagna. Twice Kesta went to Osun’s door and raised her hand to knock, but both times she stopped, her disgust at the man’s past behaviour getting the better of her. Osun emerged the next day, quiet but composed. He made swift arrangements to have his friend buried in Navere. Kesta wondered what Osun wrote in the letter he sent to Farkle’s son.
The time of Jorrun’s departure came painfully quickly. Osun arranged an elaborate dinner the evening before to which even Captain Rece and two of his sergeants were invited; it was strange to see them out of their uniforms and looking so human. Kesta could understand Osun’s reasoning, however she couldn’t help but feel some resentment that her precious last hours with Jorrun were being shared with others. She forced herself to smile through the meal, but her stomach tightened with every minute that passed.
Osun stood and tapped at his glass with a spoon. He grinned, making him look so much younger. ‘I have a surprise for everyone. Follow me, please.’
Kesta looked at Jorrun but he took her hand without saying a word and they followed Osun down the hall to the largest room in the palace. Music spilled out through the open double doors and the curious murmurs increased in volume. When she looked at Jorrun again, a slight smile played about his lips and she glowered at him in annoyance.
‘What are you up to?’ She demanded.
He squeezed her hand tighter, but still said nothing.
When they entered the room, Kesta saw nearly all of the servants and a few of the guards were clustered around tables on which lay food and carafes of alcohol. The far doors stood open into the starlit garden, but fires blazed in the two fireplaces. In one corner musicians played a lively melody that Kesta didn’t recognise.
‘Come in, everyone!’ Osun turned to face them with his arms open wide. ‘My people of the Raven Coven!’
Kesta stared at Osun wide-eyed as people pushed past them into the room. It was a brilliant move, one that would bring the palace together, inspire loyalty, despite their strange and foreign ways.
‘It was his idea,’ Jorrun said, seeming to read her thoughts. ‘To keep you safer. Will you dance with me?’
‘Dance?’ She stared up at him in shock.
‘You know, moving your feet to the music? You Fulmer heathens do dance, don’t you?’
She punched him in the shoulder. ‘Of course, we do! Just not to boring Elden music.’
‘Boring Elden music?’ He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at her. ‘You barbarian women have no refinement.’
‘Luckily for you.’ She took a step forward, not breaking eye contact even to blink. She saw his pupils dilate and his skin flush, she grinned.
‘Witch,’ he said, grabbing her right hand and putting his other to the small of her back to pull her into a dance.
‘I didn’t know you danced,’ she said seriously.
‘I haven’t in a long time.’ He frowned. ‘But Osun thought it would be important we did. Look around.’
Kesta did so and realised most of the people in the room had stopped to watch them, there was little conversation above the music. She immediately blushed scarlet and missed a step to stand on Jorrun’s foot.
‘Why are they staring at us?’ she hissed.
‘Dance is a rare thing in Chem.’ He leaned forward to speak softly in her ear, his breath tickled the corner of her jaw. ‘And men and women don’t dance together. Look again.’
She did so and saw Osun was now also dancing with his young niece, Kussim. With them were Jagna and Estre and Calayna with young Cassien.
‘They’ve been learning.’ Jorrun grinned down at her. ‘Small steps, but meaningful.’
Kesta swallowed, letting Jorrun lead her as she peered past him to try to watch the others. Calayna stepped away from Cassien to invite Captain Rece to try, Cassien in turn held out his hand to Rey.
Without warning a sob broke up from Kesta’s chest and escaped from her. She turned to hide her face against Jorrun’s neck and shoulder; his skin was warm and soft.
‘Come on, let’s go.’
She looked up at him, wiping one cheek with her fingers. ‘What abou—’
‘They are happy, the don’t need us.’ Keeping hold of her hand he led her along the hall and up the stairs to the library.
***
She awoke slo
wly, feeling Jorrun’s chest rise and fall beneath her cheek, his arms still wrapped around her. He must have felt her eyelashes against his skin as she opened her eyes as he spoke at once.
‘I was just thinking of waking you. I didn’t want to, but I have to go soon.’
Sitting up a little, she realised it was light in the library despite the fact the stained-glass window faced westward. They hadn’t slept until very late – or very early. She smiled to herself, stretching slowly, but her smile quickly faded and a frightened feeling, close to grief, gripped her heart. She sat up to look down at Jorrun.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘Sorry to put you through this, sorry to leave you with this burden.’
‘Jorrun.’ She touched his lips with the tips of her fingers. ‘We went through all this last night. We chose to be here, to do this.’
He placed a hand on her chest, just below her throat. ‘If anything goes wrong, take my ship and get yourself safely to Fulmer. Save as many of the women as you can. Don’t try to hold Navere; it’s the people that are important, not the place.’
She nodded, not able to take her eyes from his beautiful blue ones.
She gave a shriek as he pulled at her arm, causing her to fall across him. He hugged her so hard she could barely breath. ‘Promise me you won’t risk yourself.’
‘Only if you do the same.’
She felt him nod. ‘I’ll scry to you as often as I can, but it might not be every night, I’ll have to be careful.’
She found she’d lost her own voice. Her throat was painfully tight and pressure built behind her eyes, but she blinked rapidly to stop herself from crying. ‘I finally understand why you shut yourself away in the Raven Tower that day you made me leave. It wasn’t because you didn’t care, it was because you loved me so much.’
She felt his chest still as he held his breath. Despite her best efforts, tears escaped from her soul.
‘It took all the willpower I had not to give in and go down,’ he said quietly. ‘But I did give in.’
‘What do you mean?’ She sat up to look at him.
‘You didn’t see then?’ He searched her eyes.
She shook her head.
‘I lit every candle in the Raven Tower.’ His voice broke. Kesta lay back down, holding him tightly and kissing his neck. She felt him swallow. Without a word he slowly untangled himself from her to get dressed. She didn’t move, couldn’t move, as he picked up the small bag he’d packed.
‘No risks, Kesta,’ he said in a hoarse whisper. ‘I’ll come back to you.’
She listened as he made his way down the steps and out of the secret door to the library. She heard the soft tread of his boots across the thin carpet and the click as the library door closed behind him. She waited until her heart hurt too much to bear it, then she jumped up and got dressed, running from the library and up the stairs to one of the old coven members’ rooms that overlooked the gardens. She was in time to see Jorrun, Osun, Cassien, and Jagna ride away out of sight.
She’d never felt so alone, so vulnerable, in all her life.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ayline; Kingdom of Elden
Ayline shifted in her seat. Her back ached abominably. Beside her, Bractius barely said a word, in fact there was little conversation at all in the King’s private dining room. Adrin didn’t seem to notice the mood of the others, his arms making large gestures in the air as he told of a sea skirmish he’d fought against Borrowmen. The witch queen, Dia, scowled down into her plate. Ayline supposed Dia was offended, having demanded the freedom of Temerran and allowing his escape, she obviously still considered the Borrowmen allies. She snorted to herself. Temerran was quite handsome she supposed, although some ten years younger than the witch, knowing Fulmer women Dia had probably seduced the Bard to do her bidding.
‘Something wrong?’ Bractius glared up at her from under his reddish eyebrows.
She glanced about quickly to see if anyone else had noticed her indiscretion. ‘No, my love, it’s just difficult to get comfortable. I can’t wait for our child to be born.’
She smiled, but he barely looked at her, pushing some chicken through the gravy on his plate and then stabbing it several times with his fork. His eyes were red and bloodshot, and he hunched over the table.
‘Your majesty, something troubles you?’ Dia asked.
Ayline gritted her teeth, it was hard not to snarl.
Bractius sighed. ‘My stupid nightmares have come back.’
‘I thought they’d gone?’ Ayline demanded. ‘When did they come back?’
Bractius dropped his fork and leaned back in his chair. ‘About a week.’
A week! Ayline stared at Dia. Inari had been right. She’d refused to see or even acknowledge the young servant since Larissa’s death and his awful behaviour. She didn’t want to admit he’d really frightened her.
Bractius shook his head and picked up his wine goblet. ‘It’s hardly surprising since I got that letter from Jorrun requesting a ‘discreet’ ship full of warriors to guard his palace while he goes gallivanting off to secure his power in Chem. I should never have let him go, he is needed here.’
‘Have you told him about your nightmares?’ Dia asked.
‘I’m a grown man!’ Bractius snapped at her. It was hard for Ayline not to grin. She saw Arrus stiffen defensively.
‘He is a dream-walker though,’ Dia replied gently, totally unphased by his uncharacteristic temper.
‘I’m fed up with advice.’ Bractius stood up and stormed out of the room.
Ayline glared at Dia before standing and dropping her napkin on the table. ‘Excuse me,’ she said.
She followed her husband, the ungainly bulk of her body making it difficult for her to hurry.
‘Bractius! Wait a moment. Please.’ She stopped to lean with a hand against the wall. Surprisingly enough he turned to wait for her. ‘I don’t mean to offend you,’ she panted. ‘But I am worried about you.’
Bractius gestured almost violently toward the young page who had followed him, and the young boy darted away. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes almost going straight through her to the empty corridor beyond. Ayline shivered, wondering if he saw the ghost of dead Larissa.
He seemed to shake himself and rubbed at his face. ‘Let’s talk in my room.’
Ayline straightened her spine and hurried to catch up with him. As soon as they entered, Bractius poured himself a drink. ‘I’m sure these dreams will drive me insane,’ he muttered.
‘What do you dream of?’ Ayline sat carefully in one of the chairs.
‘Different things, each time worse than before.’ He swallowed the honey-coloured spirit back in one gulp and poured some more before sitting down. ‘I’ve dreamt of Jorrun, of blood pouring from his mouth as he speaks to me of his plans for Chem. I dreamt of Temerran, of snakes wriggling free from the end of his flute, another after another, until the castle was full of them and they wound about my body and neck.’ Ayline stared at him in growing horror, wrapping her arms about her stomach. ‘I dreamt our child was born a monster with no head and arms like waving tentacles.’
Ayline gasped, her hand going to her mouth as nausea gripped her.
‘Last night,’ Bractius went on in a whisper, feeling his way around his desk as though he were blind, to slump in his chair. ‘Last night I dreamt that birds filled the air, hundreds, thousands, turning the day to night. The sun cracked like an egg, bleeding into the sea and Taurmaline castle turned to dust.’
Ayline sat completely frozen, her heart beating loud and fast in her ears. ‘I had no idea it was so bad.’
Bractius shook his head and took another sip of his drink. ‘Sometimes I think the only way to escape would be to die.’
‘No!’ Ayline cried out. ‘You can’t let them beat you.’
Bractius sat up straight and glared at her. ‘Them?’
She swallowed. ‘Don’t you think it strange your nightmares came when Larissa was here, stopped when she died and then starte
d again when Dia arrive—’
He slammed his glass down. ‘Nonsense!’
But she could see the doubt in his eyes.
‘Think about it though,’ she urged. ‘Who else could do this to you? It was happening before Temerran came.’
Bractius rubbed at his beard and throat, his eyes narrowed, but he shook his head. ‘No. No, that makes no sense. If it’s the walkers doing this to me, why would they kill Larissa?’
Ayline opened her mouth, but she couldn’t think of an answer. She sighed. ‘We must think of this some more, husband. Be careful.’
He surprised her with a smile and reached across the table to hold his hand out for hers. ‘Thank you, Ayline.’
She let him squeeze her fingers, his palm was warm and clammy.
‘I should check on our guests and get myself to bed.’ She pulled her hand free to stand. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
He nodded, his eyes already distant.
She stepped out into the hall and found the King’s young page waiting patiently outside, he gave her a polite bow. She hesitated, considering fetching some guards to stand outside her husband’s room. On the one hand there was no point, this vile magic couldn’t be stopped by any guards. On the other, it might improve her husband’s view of her still further. She nodded to herself. Instead of returning to the private dining room, she found a guard and ordered him to ensure at least two men stood watch outside whatever room the King was in from now on.
She returned to her own rooms and was relieved, though hardly surprised, to find none of her ladies were present. Lerra’s mattress was empty though and there was no sign of the girl. Ayline frowned in annoyance and pushed open the door to her bedchamber. She let out a gasp. Inari was sprawled out on her bed, one side of his mouth pulled up in an impertinent smile.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded, glancing around quickly. ‘How dare you!’
Inari tutted and rolled over to prop himself up on one elbow. ‘You can do better than that for the man who is offering you a throne.’
She stepped slowly into her room, jumping as the door slammed shut behind her. Inari pushed himself up with fluid ease to sit cross-legged.
