Relic

by Bronwyn Eley

  ‘What do you want?’

  I want information on this Bellamy to take back to Lord Rennard. Whoever he is, whatever he’s done, doesn’t matter to me. I’m just looking to avoid more pain. Help a girl out?

  Definitely the wrong approach.

  Who was Bellamy to the man before me? Family? Friend? Lover?

  And then another word came to mind: follower.

  It was loyalty that rolled off this man, stronger than any odour in this tavern.

  Think. What mattered to Lord Rennard? Power was definitely at the top of the list. Did this Bellamy threaten his power?

  ‘A cause.’ I swallowed as the words leapt out into the space between us. ‘I’m looking for a cause.’

  Another lie, yet they came more easily by the second.

  The man dipped his head, hiding the smile I glimpsed tugging at the corners of his mouth. He leaned an elbow against the wall and rested his head in his hand. ‘Not a fan of our esteemed ruler?’

  I pursed my lips. ‘Is anyone?’

  His gaze darkened. ‘You’d be surprised,’ he said, so softly I nearly missed it. I stepped forward, cocking my head and shifting my gaze to the people around us, as if on guard for outsiders listening in.

  ‘Can I buy you a drink?’ The confidence pouring out of my mouth seemed misplaced. Embarrassment flooded through me as the man shook his head.

  ‘No,’ he almost snapped. ‘Loose lips.’ He closed his eyes and brushed a finger over his lips quickly, once in each direction. When his eyes opened, they had turned curious.

  ‘Irey’s,’ he muttered. ‘A week today, at sundown. Bring anyone else and I’ll ensure you’re never able to blurt out the B word again.’

  He didn’t wait for my agreement or confirmation. Instead, he pushed his way through the crowd with impressive speed and disappeared.

  Placing my drink roughly down on the table near me, I sunk back against the wall.

  I had done it.

  There was no logical reason that this man would have indulged me, unless he was offering me an opportunity. Either that or, as I left the tavern, shadowy figures would be waiting to grab me from behind and smash my head against the stone walls. I tossed up the likely scenarios for a moment before a more pressing dilemma dawned on me: what would I tell Rennard?

  Would I tell him about the vague invitation? Or was it better to risk his disappointment, and potential wrath, by coming back empty-handed? With a sigh, I pushed off the wall and headed for the door.

  The warm evening air seemed light after the tavern. I quickly assessed my surroundings, looking for evidence of an ambush. I saw none, but figured no decent ambush would be so obvious anyway.

  What are you going to tell him?

  My bottom lip started to sting and I released it from between my teeth. With each step, my mind scrambled faster for a decision. And then it was too late.

  Lord Rennard straightened like a city guard caught sleeping on the job. He had brought out his Relic. It now dangled forgotten against his chest, looking darker than ever in the even darker alley.

  He reached for my arm and dragged me into the cover of the quiet alley. ‘That was quick. I hope you didn’t waste my time.’

  I tried not to react as the Relic’s poison leached back into my body. ‘No, my lord.’

  ‘Well?’ He squeezed my arm.

  Don’t say it. You can’t say it.

  But what choice did I have? If I came back empty-handed, this madness could simply continue until I found something. The information I had: Irey’s, a week today, at sundown. What would be waiting there? If I told Rennard and he turned up, whose lives would I be risking? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But I had to give him something or this might never end.

  ‘There was a man named Min.’ The words came too easily. I hated myself more with each one. ‘He didn’t say he knew Bellamy, but I could tell.’

  Lord Rennard nodded, mulling over the information as he chewed on his lower lip. Rolling his neck, he tucked the Relic away as I explained what Min had looked like when he asked, but beyond that, I claimed to know no more. I wasn’t sure why I stopped there. I had already condemned a complete stranger to unknowable suffering, that much I could tell. But my mouth refused to open and tell him about the man with the cold voice, or about next week’s meeting. What did I intend to do with that information? Just sit on it? Act on it?

  I shook my head at the ridiculous idea.

  ‘What is it?’ Lord Rennard asked, eyebrows furrowed.

  ‘Nothing,’ I blurted. ‘My lord, I just wonder at the people inside that tavern. I wonder about this man, about what crime he’s committed against this city.’

  ‘That’s none of your concern.’ He dropped my arm. ‘Don’t mistake this for something it’s not, Kaylan. You are my servant; you do as I say. Tonight, I told you to find information. Now, I’m telling you to forget the last few hours.’

  I willed myself to meet his eyes.

  ‘Forgotten.’

  Chapter 9

  I didn’t forget. In fact, I dreamed about it. Let my mind wander back to it while waiting idly by Rennard’s side. I was sick with myself for what I had done, betraying a complete stranger. What made it worse was not knowing why. Beyond the name Bellamy, I knew nothing.

  Maybe Lord Rennard had done nothing, but since I certainly wasn’t privy to his every action, Min could very well have been arrested immediately for ... whatever Rennard believed him guilty of.

  And who was I to say otherwise? I knew so little about this city and what its ruler had to deal with every day. Maybe Bellamy was a bad man and Min, his accomplice.

  My ignorance sickened me.

  My feet dragged, scraping against the stone floor. Another sleepless night. At least that was how it felt. My dreams made me wish I hadn’t slept at all. They went beyond dreams of Min locked in a dark dungeon.

  It was as if it had a voice of its own. The Relic. It had no words, but it mocked me.

  In my dreams I had wandered the gardens with Jesper. It was just like the other day, the same sun, the same warm air, the same confusion. I picked at a flower. One by one the petals fell to the ground. The more I let fall, the stronger my pain became.

  Jesper walked beside me, none the wiser. She held a hand to her stomach, fingers curled as if in pain, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I asked her questions, but I couldn’t hear her answers. I picked the last petal, but it wasn’t the end of the flower, as it should have been. My hand stung. Looking down, I saw that I held the Relic, its yellow seeping onto my hand, staining it. I tried throwing the stone away, but my arm wouldn’t let me. Or maybe it was the Relic. Jesper and I continued to talk as if nothing was wrong.

  Grateful when the dream ended, I opened my eyes to a dark room. My hand tingled. Heart beating hard, I dared a look. There was no mark. Eventually the tingles lessened and I dressed for the day.

  The hallway stretched, growing longer each time I walked it. Loud steps ahead caught my attention. My heart reacted to the sight of four city guards on approach. My legs jarred and I stumbled against the wall.

  But the guards weren’t looking at me, just straight ahead. I moved aside to let them pass, welcoming silence with a loose breath. They were so focused: their eyes blank, faces void of emotion. True soldiers. How Rennard had trained that kind of loyalty into them was something I’d rather not know. Just like those guards in the Square. The ones who took away Mr Alarn.

  Resting against the wall, I slid my hand over the smooth stone. I hadn’t thought of him since that day, with so much going on. Mr Alarn would be here in this castle. Many floors down, locked away as a criminal. Paying off his debts through suffering and starvation.

  I wasn’t so alone, after all.

  My stomach twisted. With us both in here, who was left to care for his family? I couldn’t do anything to help him that day, but I’d known I could at least help them. But now I was just as trapped as he was. My mother wouldn’t forget them, but she had three boys of her own
to look after.

  In a way, Mr Alarn’s family was my family, too. His wife, Layla, was much younger than him, and in the beginning there was a strange tension between the two of us. The way he doted on me, introducing me as his almost-daughter, lit a fire in her eyes. I sensed her possessiveness, saw it in the way she casually linked her arm in his. I didn’t begrudge her. She was young and in love, wanting her own family. She didn’t agree to me when she took him as her husband.

  Over time, Mr Alarn and I wore her down. I knew it the moment she let me hold her newborn baby. She rubbed my back, resting her chin on my shoulder, as she looked down at those sparkling new eyes, just as I was. She had seen the way I cared for my brothers. In that moment, I felt her trust.

  I had let her down now. Though I had no control over what happened to him or to me, I still felt responsible.

  A scream echoed down the hall. I shot away from the wall and stared down the now deathly silent stretch before me. Nothing more followed. My breath turned to shudders as I moved forward, wondering if it had all been in my head.

  Then a second scream came, like a slap to the face.

  I halted, listening.

  The girl was in pain, sobbing and pleading, her words tumbling incoherently down the hall toward me. My breath caught in my throat as I hurried ahead to the Grand Hall. The doors were wide open.

  I hadn’t been in the room since the day I had arrived. Lord Rennard sat on his throne, although no one ever really called it that. The Lords were not royalty. The Lords spat on royalty, proud that they now sat in power instead.

  The chair creaked as he shifted back, resting his head and closing his eyes. I spotted Thorn hovering against one wall, with three city guards standing behind him. They all watched Lord Rennard. The only one not looking at him was the small woman curled on her knees on the floor in front of him. Head in her hands, she wrapped herself in a tight ball. Her sobs and pleas went unnoticed.

  Was this another one of my hallucinations?

  I only caught a few of her words. Please. Stop. My lord. I looked at Rennard. His eyes were still closed; he sat unmoving in his chair. The way she writhed in pain – it was as though he skewered her with a blistering iron poker.

  The stories I had heard about his magic were endless. Some said his powers were infinite, that he could move the clouds to bring rain, but only if we deserved it.

  Others said he burrowed into your body and mind, taking what he pleased, leaving just enough to keep you breathing.

  One story claimed that he bent to the will of the Relic, not the other way around. That its control over the possessor was marked by black eyes.

  I took in the Relic, its dark honey-yellow colour glowing as if trying to make a point. He is mine. He is mine. He is mine.

  ‘Ah, Kaylan!’ Rennard’s voice boomed. The woman’s cries subsided briefly. All eyes turned to me, except hers. ‘Don’t linger at the door, it’s not polite.’

  I stepped into the room and squared my shoulders. Lord Rennard gestured for me to join him. I approached at a steady pace, clenching my fists. My breath caught in my throat as the Relic’s power crashed into me and I fought, once more, to ignore it.

  ‘Kaylan, do you know Lise?’ he asked with a nod to the woman. She looked at me now with bloodshot eyes, more red than white. Tears streamed down her face and her lips trembled.

  It was Layla. Mr Alarn’s wife.

  Her kind eyes were so familiar and yet coated in a terror I knew she had never experienced. I took a step forward. Of course she was afraid. The way Rennard’s magic tore into me was one thing. If he was actively seeking out her suffering, I could only imagine what kind of pain she was in.

  And just like that, the facade melted away. Whatever delusion my mind had created fled, and the woman before me was now wholly unfamiliar.

  I let out a grateful breath as I realised it wasn’t Layla before me. Of course not. Rennard had called her Lise. Seeing her clearly now, she did resemble Layla somewhat, in her youth and complexion, but it wasn’t her.

  Rennard waited with raised brows, twiddling his thumbs.

  ‘No, my lord,’ I responded. ‘I’ve never seen her before.’

  He nodded. ‘That’s a shame. Wouldn’t it be nice to have seen a friend today?’

  I tried not to frown, but I knew some of it crept into my expression. ‘Probably not the best circumstances, my lord.’

  I inhaled sharply, cursing my stupidity. He remained silent and I could feel the tension rise, a pressure coming from all sides. I glanced at Thorn, whose expression would have frightened me if I had not been closer to Lord Rennard.

  Rennard barked with laughter. His grin was bigger than any I had seen on his face to date. He eyed me and nodded. Lise let out a whimper and all attention turned back to her.

  ‘Now, Lise,’ he began, but was interrupted by footsteps. I looked toward the entrance to see Jesper gliding toward us. Her skin and hair shone in contrast with her black gown. The sleeves travelled fully down her slender arms, ending in points covering the backs of her hands. Her white hair curled around her face, hanging neatly over her breasts. I noticed all the men staring.

  Lord Rennard stood and, leaning over Lise, held out a hand for Jesper. She stopped in front of the suffering woman on the floor, her eyes on her husband as she reached for his hand. He led her into a kiss. I averted my eyes to Thorn and his men instead. They were all watching the interaction.

  ‘Lise, this is my wife.’ Lord Rennard bent down, trying to catch Lise’s eye. When she peered up at him, her lips began to tremble. ‘Pay your respects to her.’

  Lise let out a sob, which almost sounded like a laugh, but sat up straighter. Jesper turned her eyes to the woman. They were cold and detached, very unlike how I had seen her before. I barely knew her, but I knew that look on her face and the stiffness in her stance weren’t natural.

  ‘My lady,’ Lise sputtered, bowing her head. Lord Rennard raised an eyebrow and sighed. A flash of darkness blanketed his eyes, just as the rumours had described. I blinked away the delusion. I knew better than to listen to the gossip of the backstreets.

  Lise flicked her attention to him before returning to Jesper. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ Her voice was a little stronger.

  Jesper said nothing. With a curt nod, she let go of Rennard’s hand and moved to stand by his chair. She placed a hand on the top, curling her fingers around a small spire.

  ‘Think very hard,’ Rennard continued, ‘about what we discussed. About whose side you’re on. Because, believe me, they won’t do anything to help you.’

  There was so much fury in his words. The Relic seared into us. I spat out a breath and stepped back. Jesper tensed, curling forward slightly, but didn’t move from her spot. Rennard didn’t notice or didn’t care; he was too focused on Lise.

  ‘I don’t know where he is, my lord,’ Lise whimpered.

  ‘But the rest?’ Rennard pushed. ‘Where do they meet?’

  Lise curled over and sobbed into her hands.

  ‘Lise,’ Rennard called loudly, as if speaking to a petulant child who didn’t want to eat her dinner. ‘Answer the question, Lise, or it’s off to the dungeons for you.’

  She rose, sitting so stiffly it looked as if she were fighting to stay upright. ‘It’s off to the dungeons either way,’ she said bitterly. Her tears had stopped but the remains glistened on her cheeks and lashes. ‘So don’t bother trying to intimidate me with your threats!’

  Silence.

  Where had the whimpering woman gone all of a sudden? What had changed in the last few seconds to suddenly make her so bold?

  Rennard chuckled. ‘Thorn.’

  The captain sprang into action, pulling Lise up roughly by her arm. She didn’t fight him, but her impulsive bravery continued as she was dragged from the hall.

  ‘I can’t wait for the day Bellamy tears your heart out!’ she yelled. ‘You do your best to hide what’s going on, but you don’t realise how big his following grows every day!’
<
br />   Rennard launched from his seat and hastened after her, the blazing heat of the Relic chasing after him. He said nothing, simply followed them out of sight, leaving the rest of us in stunned silence.

  I didn’t want to raise suspicion by running down the halls, but I pushed as fast as I could. My chest was tight, the air stale. I needed to be outside.

  Eventually I found myself in a part of the grounds I didn’t recognise. Steadying my hands on my hips, I tipped my head back and wished for relief.

  What am I doing here?

  Why was I putting up with this? I made no protests – none when they dragged me up here, and none now that I was trapped in this nightmare. I didn’t know what Lise had done but I knew I didn’t want to be in her place.

  I can’t wait for the day Bellamy tears your heart out.

  Who was Bellamy?

  I blew out a breath.

  You don’t realise how big his following grows every day.

  An interesting choice of word: following. People who follow require a leader. What was Bellamy the leader of? A group that somehow threatened Rennard. A rebellion? I moved forward, hoping to put distance between myself and the castle.

  Rennard was killing me. I stopped as the word hung heavy in my chest. He was killing me, so why was I suddenly filled with nerves at the thought of a rebellion?

  It wasn’t the thought of someone opposing Rennard, or taking him down, that unsettled me. It was the thought of what might happen if someone tried to take him on. It wasn’t just Rennard versus Bellamy. He had his Relic and the power of an army behind him. What did Bellamy have? A following?

  The whine of dogs reached my ears as I crested a mound. I spotted around twenty of them up ahead, in a small fenced area attached to a modest, wooden house. Some of the dogs leapt to their feet when they saw me approach, noses pressed eagerly through the wooden slats.

  There was no movement or sound from the outhouse. I didn’t know where Markus was, but I was relieved to be alone.

  Smiling, I stretched out my hand to one of the gentle beauties. Her brown eyes were soft and she licked my hand eagerly. ‘Is that tasty?’ I asked her. Her wide eyes and lolling tongue were focused on my hand. ‘Why are you trying to eat my hand? I need that, you know.’