Relic

by Bronwyn Eley

  ‘Rennard has this superstition.’ Markus gestured for me to continue walking, and we settled into a slow stroll. ‘That the Relics hold an imprint of all past owners. He believes that his father is still around, in a way.’

  ‘Why would he think that?’ It was an interesting assumption to make.

  ‘There was this night,’ Markus began, his eyes far off. ‘It was really late, but I was with my dogs, and Rennard just showed up. He wanted to talk, because I had lost both my parents and now he had too. I think he was lonely. His siblings were gone; some had moved away, others he sent away – and this was before Jesper. But he came to me because he said that he saw his father, that he kept seeing his father. I guess he wanted to tell me because …’ He shrugged.

  ‘You were his friend.’

  The idea didn’t upset me. Rennard was a human being, after all. It was harder to deny that now. No one person was all bad or all good. Despite what he was doing to me, I still believed that.

  ‘I still am.’ Markus gauged my reaction with a quick side-glance. I gave him a soft smile. ‘I don’t know if I like him because I like who he is, or because I’ve known him my whole life and having him around just seems normal to me. I know he’s flawed. He makes mistakes all the time. And the Shadow is something I have never been able to support –’

  I pressed my lips together.

  Markus let out a breath. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be saying this. I don’t mean to upset you –’

  ‘You’re not,’ I said quickly. ‘I get it. My old boss, Tosh?’ Markus nodded. ‘He’s highly unpleasant and has many flaws. But he’s Tosh, you know?’ I shrugged. ‘He taught me everything I know about working in a forge, about hard work and resilience.’

  ‘He doesn’t sound too bad.’

  I laughed. ‘Don’t be fooled. He taught me hard work by working me to the bone.’

  ‘Forge,’ Markus murmured. ‘So you were a Blacksmith?’

  ‘I am a Blacksmith,’ I replied automatically.

  ‘It makes sense.’

  I found myself chuckling. ‘Why?’

  ‘Your physique, for one thing.’ Markus eyed me. ‘The ladies of the court don’t have shoulders or arms like that.’

  My lips quirked. ‘I suppose I was built for it. Tosh always preferred me as his Striker because I had the best swing.’

  ‘Striker?’

  ‘The Striker delivers a heavy blow with a sledgehammer when we’re working on bigger pieces in the forge.’ I found myself imitating the movement, imagining the large hammer coming down onto metal. ‘It was kind of fun.’

  ‘What is it about being a Blacksmith that you love the most?’

  ‘What do I miss the most, you mean?’ I said the words lightly, but they fell heavy on my chest. I missed it every day. ‘I’ve thought about this a lot. At first I thought it was about the skill and accomplishment. Making a farming tool that’s sturdy and functional, or fixing something that otherwise might not work again. But since coming here, I’ve realised that what I miss most about it is the control.’

  Markus turned to look at me as we walked.

  ‘I was good at my job. Great, even. Tosh was grooming me to take over. It was the one place I felt safe, because I could completely control the outcome. I could control everything in that room. The fire, the hammer, my strikes. If something was broken, I could fix it. I created things out of nothing. And now –’ My voice wavered. ‘Now I have no control.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Kaylan.’

  I didn’t want his pity. We weren’t going to do this. Not now, not here. I wiped my eyes and focused ahead.

  ‘Where are they from? The dogs.’

  Markus looked around before answering. ‘The merchant comes with Lord Oldar’s warmest wishes.’

  My eyebrows rose. ‘They must be something. He only sends his merchants if he knows how irresistible his goods are.’

  Markus nodded. ‘Seems to be the way of it. These dogs would make amazing hunters. Put Q and the rest to shame.’

  I frowned, thinking of the sweet, lively dogs being replaced by mongrels from Oldar. Traded in for something better. ‘You won’t get rid of them, will you?’

  Markus jerked his head back, disbelief on his face. ‘Do you honestly believe I could just give them up?’

  I smiled. ‘Of course not, but Rennard?’

  He shook his head, eyes flashing closed for a moment, rejecting the idea. ‘He listens to my advice when it comes to these matters. They won’t be going anywhere.’

  ‘Not just these matters,’ I said. ‘That day in the hall, when I was released from the dungeon …’ I hated that he had seen me like that, hated that that was how he found out who I was – because I attacked someone. ‘You spoke in my defence. He listened to you, even when you blamed it on his Relic.’

  ‘He listened because he knows it’s the truth. It’s not the first time something like this has happened.’

  ‘What happened to them?’ I was whispering again. He knew who I meant. The others before me, the other Shadows. ‘Did they lose their memories too? Did they turn – violent?’

  Nothing. The look in his eyes told me he wasn’t going to give me anything. Nor would Keithan, or the books in his library.

  ‘Markus, please.’

  He searched my expression for a few moments, perhaps assessing if I could handle what he knew. Then said, ‘Everyone reacts slightly differently.’

  I wanted to hug him. If he had lived on the castle grounds his whole life, he would have seen things. If his parents were close with Rennard’s, perhaps they were privy to such information. As horrible as that was to comprehend, it meant he might have insight for me. He might be able to prepare me.

  ‘But you said you had seen things like this before?’

  A nod. ‘The mind becomes unstable, very much like –’ He caught himself just in time, but he didn’t need to finish the sentence.

  Very much like Rennard.

  ‘A simple sliver of fear can become terror. A spark of anger bursts into vicious rage.’

  ‘You think that’s what happened to me?’

  Another nod. ‘The Relic doesn’t make you mindless. It doesn’t create emotion. It plays with the things that are already there, amplifying them. Something must have set you off.’ Would Palark’s hands on Shae have been enough to do it?

  Markus seemed to follow my thought. ‘Has it always upset you? To see Shae as a Companion?’ I looked ahead. ‘You know Companions are nothing to be ashamed of.’

  ‘I’m not ashamed of it,’ I muttered. It was true; I wasn’t ashamed of her. I was angry at them for what they did to our lives. ‘They took her from me. We were just children – she was just a child. They didn’t care. They never care. They just take what they want.’

  She was fourteen when they came for her. Things had been different since then. I always blamed them, but what if I had been the one to change things between us? Shae never spoke of her work, kept it hidden like some dirty secret. But it wasn’t. We talked about my work at the smithy, a job some would see as far less respectable than hers. What if she never spoke about her work not because she was ashamed of it, but because she thought I was?

  The idea made me sick.

  Whatever anger I was holding onto had ripped its way to the surface that night at the celebration. Anger in knowing that no matter how well trained she was to lie to her clients, Shae could never lie well enough to me.

  ‘That’s the way it is here,’ Markus said. It wasn’t a defence. He looked just as disappointed as I felt. ‘We’re not asked. We’re assigned.’

  Something I knew well enough. Some small flare in his eyes made me wonder if things were so different for Noblemen. Did he have any say in where his life went? He was, after all, another subject of Edriast.

  ‘Maybe you should talk to her,’ Markus said softly. ‘The fewer things the Relic can feed off, the better it will be for you.’

  Unable to bring myself to speak, I simply nodded.

  ‘Where
are you going?’ I asked, pointing to the right. ‘Northern Gate is that way.’

  ‘I know.’ Markus jerked his head, telling me to follow. I kept up with him. ‘We have a stop to make first.’

  At first I assumed it had something to do with the dogs, but the more turns he took, the more I realised where he was heading. I reached out and grasped his arm, pulling him to a stop.

  ‘Don’t.’

  ‘You have to see them, Kaylan.’

  I closed my eyes. The way he said my name was like a cool breeze on my too-hot skin. But that wasn’t the point right now. My eyes shot open. ‘No,’ I said firmly, planting my feet. ‘You can’t just do that. I’m not ready.’

  ‘They deserve to see you again, Kaylan. To say their proper goodbyes. Don’t let their last glimpse of you be some stranger taking you from your home.’

  ‘How did –’

  ‘Shae told me,’ he said. ‘Told me where to find your house. Told me about your family. Told me how much they love you, how much they need you. It’s not always about you. Let them have this, Kaylan.’

  ‘I didn’t realise you two had become so close.’ I cringed at the bitterness in my voice, but pressed on. ‘You figure you can just pry into my life? You should have asked, Markus. Is this why you asked me to help?’

  ‘I do need your help, but I figured …’ He shrugged. ‘I’d give you this chance.’

  I didn’t want him telling me what was right. Still, how could I say no? My family did deserve a proper goodbye.

  ‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ I said quietly. ‘You shouldn’t –’ be so nice to me. ‘You can’t –’ stay with me. ‘Please, just –’ make this easier on us both and ignore me until I die.

  Without a word, he took my hand and pulled us along.

  ‘But what about Rennard?’ I kept my voice low, unwilling to draw attention from passersby. The streets were still filled with people.

  ‘He doesn’t have to know,’ Markus said. ‘I won’t tell him if you don’t.’

  I wouldn’t, of course, but what of everyone else? Rennard had eyes everywhere.

  Soon enough, my legs started to burn. I looked around at the street I grew up on. Passing Shae’s house, I looked in the window, as always, and saw her father crouched by the fire, tending to the pot hovering above it.

  Then he was gone, and we were outside my front door.

  It was me who stopped us. I moved my fingers in Markus’ hand, feeling the sweat gathered between our palms.

  ‘Do you want me to wait outside?’ he asked.

  ‘No.’ I locked my grip. If he was going to make me face them, I wouldn’t do it alone. Markus would be a distraction. He had a younger sister; perhaps he could help me manage Kye and Rhey if they – when they – broke down. ‘You got me into this.’

  Markus chuckled. ‘That I did. Go on, knock.’

  I expected it to take longer, but my hand flew out and struck wood. It felt strange, knocking on my own door. But somehow I felt as if I had lost the right to just barge into their lives.

  It was my mother who answered the door, her eyes brimming with tears and hostility.

  Was she already upset?

  Like flames doused with water, her face fell slack, tears finally spilling onto her cheeks. Wordlessly, we embraced. My hand remained in Markus’, unwilling to let him slip off into the night and leave me alone in this.

  ‘Kaylan!’ A shriek from my youngest brother brought me back. My mother and I parted just as Kye slammed into my stomach and I reeled back into Markus. From the way we shook, I thought Kye was crying, but then I realised it wasn’t Kye. It was me.

  I released my grip on Markus and sank to my knees, cradling Kye as close as I could.

  ‘Come inside,’ came my mother’s wary voice. My plan was to silently scoop Kye into my arms and carry him inside, something I had done many times before. But he was heavier than I remembered. A muscle in my lower back seized at the movement. I clamped my mouth shut and pushed up despite the protest from my muscles.

  Gentle fingers brushed against my back. Markus. I couldn’t bring myself to look back, but I felt him following close behind.

  My mother was looking at him, though.

  ‘Would you care for a drink?’ She was always polite, but I could tell from her tone that she knew Markus was nobility. Years of working in the markets had taught her to read individuals incredibly well.

  ‘Water would be nice.’ Markus spoke quietly. ‘Thank you, Mrs Rove.’

  Shae certainly had told him a lot about me. Part of me mourned the chance to tell him myself, talk to him about my life.

  I knew I couldn’t hide behind Kye all night, so I reluctantly placed him down. His eyes were red, nose leaking, lips parted. I brushed my hand through his hair as I stood, permitting myself a small smile, just for him.

  ‘Where’s my Rhey?’ I asked gently, knowing full well where he was. I turned and took in the sight of calm, hesitant Rhey tucked against the far wall, curled beside the fire. I tilted my head and held out my hand.

  Rhey was different. I had learned that he needed to be coaxed out. I never wanted to coddle him and, even now, I refused to walk over to him. I knew he wanted an embrace just as much as Kye had, but I needed him to make the first move.

  My persistence paid off. He shuffled forward enough to put his hands behind him on the wall and push off. My hands scooped around the back of his head and drew him in.

  ‘Here you go,’ my mother said.

  ‘Thank you,’ Markus murmured. They were all quiet, still – giving me a moment with my brother.

  ‘Who are you?’ Kye sucked in through his nose and I cringed at the sound. Rhey pulled back and went to our mother. I snatched Kye’s handkerchief, which was drying on coarse rope near the fire, and passed it to him.

  ‘I’m Markus, a friend of Kaylan’s from the castle.’

  ‘Do you work for him too?’ Kye frowned.

  ‘I do,’ Markus confirmed.

  ‘Markus is the Master of the Hunt, Kye,’ I explained, pulling as much excitement into my voice as I could muster. ‘He has thirty-two dogs, and horses and eagles.’

  Wide eyes assessed the towering man before us, but it was my mother who spoke. ‘I’m glad you’re making friends, Kaylan.’

  I couldn’t help but look at Markus now. Was that what we were? He simply smiled, but my heart clenched a little when it didn’t reach his eyes. I turned back to Kye, who tugged on my hand.

  ‘What’s it like?’

  ‘It’s alright.’ I waved my hand and pulled him down on the seat next to me, pushing out a happy sigh for him. ‘I wish you could see the gardens, though.’

  With a sharp intake of breath, Kye jumped from his seat. ‘I have something for you!’

  ‘Go get it, then!’

  Kye’s face lit up as he sprinted from the room, tumbling along the wall as he vanished into the bedroom he and Rhey shared.

  ‘Rhey, why don’t you go with him?’

  Rhey slipped away from our mother and moved after Kye. They wouldn’t be long; this house was too small sometimes.

  I wasn’t sure what I needed from my mother. For her to cradle me, remember that I was still her little girl, as I wept? I couldn’t do that in front of the boys. There wasn’t enough time for it, anyway.

  ‘Are you well fed?’ A frown dominated her brow. I could tell her that I was, but then I would have to explain the reason I was so thin – that my body was succumbing to the Relic. If I told her I could barely keep my food down anymore, she would usher a plate in front of me, forever my mother.

  I simply nodded.

  ‘Are you in a lot of pain?’ she asked, so quietly, shoulders tense, face held as if waiting for the final blow. Despite her fragile, soft appearance, I knew she could handle it.

  ‘Only a little. When I’m around Lord Rennard.’

  ‘What’s he like?’ Everyone was curious about the ruler they rarely saw. I exhaled. What was he like?

  ‘Intimidating,’ I respond
ed, and my mother nodded. Everyone found him intimidating, even if they had never met him.

  ‘He let you visit us?’

  I peered at Markus, who feigned interest in the fire. Kye’s rushing voice drifted from his room, Rhey’s quiet mumblings barely a whisper alongside it.

  ‘Not exactly,’ I said. ‘Markus has business in town and needed help. I’m not meant to be here. Markus –’ I looked to him, his head slightly turned toward us, acknowledging his part in this ‘– brought me to you, to –’

  I froze on the words as Kye and Rhey came stumbling into the room. My mother barely noticed them, her watering eyes on me.

  To say goodbye.

  I dragged my gaze from her as a blurry purple object entered my vision.

  Kye, about half my height, grasped a small ceramic pot between his fingers and held it high so the flower inside wobbled in front of my eyes. Now in focus, the tall stemmed flower was white in the centre, bleeding out into a vibrant pink. There were six petals in total; the bottom one, the smallest, was stained an even darker shade of pink.

  ‘It’s beautiful.’

  The words came out in a rush of air as I took the small pot from even smaller hands.

  ‘I’ve been growing them with Master Bedford,’ Kye beamed. ‘He said if I could keep one alive, I could have it. But I want you to have it.’

  ‘You’re already so talented,’ I pulled him into a hug. ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘But you can’t let it die!’ he said sternly, pushing back from me. ‘It took me ages to grow it! I can tell you how to keep it alive.’

  The words nearly tumbled from my mouth. How could I keep it alive if I were dead? In this sweet moment, he had forgotten what had happened to me, to us. If only it were as simple as forgetting.

  ‘Why don’t you keep it here, tend to it, and I’ll come see how it looks when I can?’ The chances of coming back here again were non-existent. I came to say goodbye to my mother, but I didn’t intend to ever say goodbye to them.

  Kye considered my proposal with a serious twist of his mouth, finally giving a curt nod.

  ‘Good plan.’ The smile that broke on his face crumpled my heart. I refused to let it show, though, winking instead. Only Kye and Rhey would be willing to let themselves believe I would be coming back after tonight. My mother knew the truth, and there was certainly no fooling –