Relic

by Bronwyn Eley

  Gently, I pushed Markus away. It was too late for us.

  I wouldn’t make it out of here alive, but if I could be the last Shadow, whatever followed would be worth it.

  I closed the gate behind me, ignoring the cold whipping around my body, painfully aware of Markus’ absence. My hands itched to touch him again, but I wouldn’t allow myself to be weak.

  ‘Kaylan.’

  He said my name so quietly, I thought I imagined it. But he said it again, louder this time. I just kept walking.

  ‘Kaylan!’

  I wouldn’t let myself turn around. Turning around would give him, give us, hope. Turning around would give him the opportunity to say or do something that might change my mind.

  ‘Kaylan.’

  He sounded less sure of himself this time. Was he coming to the same conclusion? Slowly letting his hopes fade with each step I took?

  My stomach twisted painfully and my heart pounded, begging me to turn. The tips of my fingers tingled at the thought of touching him again. But I wouldn’t allow it.

  Setting my jaw, I pushed into the darkness of the grounds, leaving Markus behind.

  Chapter 21

  Time was irrelevant now. The pain was constant, as if I had a rusty axe embedded in my head. My left hand was all but useless, making all my tasks difficult. Rennard had noticed it but said nothing.

  ‘It’s just – how can he not care at all?’ My question was directed at Keithan, who sat with a book and a piece of parchment, trying to ignore me. ‘How can he not care that I’m in pain?’

  The soft scrawl of ink on parchment was his only response.

  ‘Does he care that he’s hurting Jesper?’ If I kept asking questions, eventually Keithan would have to answer one. ‘Surely he must care about her somewhat. She is his wife, after all.’

  I tucked my hands between my knees, trying to stop the twitches, and glanced down at the parchment in front of me. I had just finished writing my second letter to Jesper. The first I had given to Lirr the day after Markus had kissed me. I omitted that piece of information from my letter, unsure I wanted Jesper’s take on it.

  Late last night, Lirr had passed on Jesper’s response to me.

  I had eased into it at first, but now that our correspondence was underway, I wanted to try to coax information about Bellamy out of Jesper. In mentioning that Rennard’s mood grew worse every day, my hope was that she might offer some information as a form of comfort – a hint that Rennard had a plan. That he was gathering forces to go after Bellamy. Anything that I might take to Bex.

  ‘And what about his friends?’ I pushed. ‘Markus said he had friends.’

  Markus. I had purposely avoided him for nearly two weeks now, not that it was difficult. He had his work and I had mine. Our paths rarely crossed, and when I did see him – well, I had developed a knack for hiding in tight spaces. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see him. I hid because I did.

  On the matter of the rebellion, nothing had happened. I couldn’t figure out a way to help Bellamy achieve his goals. I didn’t have the power or skill to get his followers inside the castle, and Rennard rarely left the safety of his high walls. The only way I could help them was by relaying important information. So far, I had nothing. I felt useless, standing idly by, preparing to make way for the next Shadow.

  I couldn’t let it happen.

  My eyes flicked to Keithan. He would help me. I debated telling him about the rebellion. Unlike Markus, Keithan had a strong reason to despise the Ediann line. But telling Keithan would put his life at risk.

  Still, I was determined to get his help with the Relic. I wanted to know more. Maybe there was information that would be helpful to someone like Bellamy ...

  ‘Why won’t you tell me about the Relic?’

  Nothing.

  ‘Or even just more about Rennard. I think it would help. What about his family? Why did Rennard succeed and get the Relic? Was he firstborn or just the favourite?’

  Keithan scoffed, bringing a smile to my face. He was listening. Sooner or later, I would get him to speak.

  ‘Maybe it’s all a lie,’ I pondered. ‘Perhaps Rennard killed his father for it, seizing the power for himself. He would have had to plan it well, though. So that he was the first to pick it up after his father’s death. It would have been terrible to go to all the effort of killing his own father, only to have one of his siblings pick up the Relic first.’ I laughed at the idea, even though it wasn’t at all amusing.

  Keithan slammed his fist down, the table legs scraping against the ground.

  ‘Please tell me this is part of your insanity,’ he exclaimed. ‘I should kill you myself for saying stupid things like that out loud.’

  ‘Would you prefer I whisper them quietly in your ear?’ I mocked, raising an eyebrow.

  Keithan rolled his eyes. ‘By all means, keep going. In fact, why don’t you go ask Thorn those questions? I’m sure he’d be thrilled to lock you back in the dungeon. You clearly don’t care what happens to you, so why not go ask?’

  I turned my head to the side, hoping to hide the tears in my eyes. I squeezed them shut and pursed my lips, hoping Keithan would see anger – not fear – in my actions.

  I heard ink on parchment again. Keithan’s head was down, and he sat relaxed against the back of his chair.

  You will not ignore me.

  ‘I ask these things because I do care.’ I nearly spat the words.

  Keithan sighed and dropped his quill. ‘Will you please stop?’

  ‘All I’m asking for is a little bit of information on the man who has ruined my life.’

  ‘Kaylan.’ His voice softened. ‘Even if I knew these things, even if they were true, would it make a difference?’

  The door to the library suddenly burst open. Keithan and I turned to see Lirr approaching us.

  ‘There you are!’ she whispered violently, grabbing my arm and hauling me to my feet. ‘Where have you been?’

  I gave her a blank look and gestured to the room. ‘Here.’

  ‘Well, Lord Rennard has been looking for you. He even went as far as to send for me to come and find you.’

  ‘I haven’t been here that long, have I?’ I met Keithan’s blank stare. Sighing, I turned back to Lirr. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll come now.’

  I snatched up my letter and folded it carefully. Lirr grabbed my arm, pulling me forward. ‘You’d better have an explanation ready,’ she said. ‘You’re lucky he didn’t send Thorn to find you.’

  I froze. The thought of Thorn dragging me to the dungeons again made my chest tighten.

  Lirr placed a hand on my shoulder.

  ‘Kaylan?’ she asked tentatively. ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘I don’t have a good excuse.’ My voice was quiet, near breathless. ‘Is he mad? Will Thorn –’

  ‘Stop,’ Lirr commanded. She lowered herself to look into my eyes. ‘Thorn? He’s a bully. And an idiot. I can handle him.’ She sighed harshly. ‘I don’t even know why he’s here so much lately. Hanging around Lord Rennard like a fly.’

  ‘Isn’t that his job?’ I asked.

  ‘He’s usually out with the guards – training them, leading them. But lately he’s been a busy homebody. I’m sick of seeing his ugly face.’

  Keithan chuckled from behind me.

  ‘Don’t worry, alright?’ Lirr said. ‘He might look scary, but he’s useless.’

  I nodded, and we moved toward the door.

  ‘Wait,’ Keithan called, catching up to us. He held out a book. ‘Lord Rennard requested this book yesterday. It took me a while to find it. Tell him that I sent for you and asked you to deliver it to him.’

  He pressed the book into my hand and nodded. I squeezed it to my chest.

  Lirr gingerly plucked the letter from my grip. ‘Is this for me?’

  I nodded.

  ‘I’ll make sure she gets it.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said breathlessly.

  We continued to Rennard’s chambers in silence. I drew in a s
low breath, trying not to think of all the things that would get me killed if he found out. Elias’ dealings with the rebels. What I had agreed to do for them. The fact that I had gone to see them and my family in the first place.

  Thoughts of helping them destroy him.

  Lirr knocked on the door, pushing it open after the briefest pause. Rennard looked up at us from his bed. His legs were crossed, feet bare, his head back on the pillow. Lirr and I froze at the sight. He was so calm and serene – so entirely at odds with the scene around him.

  Shredded fabrics littered the floor. The insides of pillows dusted the room like the snow on the tops of the White-Fanged Mountains. Deep grooves decorated the wooden furniture. White, dusty marks scratched the stone walls.

  And among it all: our Lord, one of his decorated swords – now blunt – resting on the bed beside him, where Jesper was meant to lie.

  Lirr nudged me forward. The look I shot her was laced with confusion, but she merely shook her head and focused ahead.

  I found my voice. ‘My lord, forgive my absence. Keithan sent for me and asked me to bring you this book.’

  Rennard rose from the bed. The dark Relic taunted me as he approached. I held out the book for him, willing my hand to stop shaking. He took the book, flipped it open and shut it quickly, the noise sounding around the large room.

  ‘I wondered where you’d got to.’ He was so serene, his voice as gentle as a whispering wind. He reached for the sword. ‘Here,’ he said, thrusting it into my hands. ‘Take this to the Blacksmith for sharpening.’

  My muscles caved slightly under its weight. Slowly, I lifted the sword up to my shoulder height – once an easy movement for me. It was a beast of a thing, gold laid into the double-handed hilt. Most men opted for a smaller sword, preferring to be able to swing it with one hand. This sword made a statement.

  Rennard passed a look over the mess surrounding us. ‘And clean up this mess.’

  He flicked his hand at Lirr, who left silently. I expected him to leave too, but he merely moved to the chair by his desk and sat quietly. He folded his arms and leaned back, looking around the room as if curious about what had happened to it.

  Placing the sword gently by the door, I set to work. Nerves itched across my skin every time I caught him watching me.

  ‘You have brothers?’

  I dropped the pillow I had been holding. It landed with a soft thud on my feet. I bent down to retrieve it. ‘Yes, my lord. Three younger brothers.’

  ‘Do you get along with them?’

  I hesitated. ‘My two youngest, yes.’

  ‘And the third?’

  I drew in a breath. ‘He and I don’t always see eye-to-eye.’

  Rennard nodded. ‘But would you protect him from harm?’

  ‘Of course I would. He’s my brother.’

  Rennard considered, unfolding his arms and leaning forward in his chair. ‘Even if he had done terrible things to you?’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  He clapped his hands on his thighs and stood. ‘Very well. Don’t forget the sword.’

  And with that, he left.

  Just over an hour later, I pressed deep into the gardens, the blunted sword in my grasp. Despite its useless state, I had still wrapped it in a spare strip of cloth I had found in the laundry room.

  Warren wasn’t there when I arrived at the smithy, but the fire was strong, telling me he wasn’t far. I made my way to the wall lined with tools, admiring the number of tongs, chisels, hammers and punches.

  My fingers lingered on one of the chisels. It was long, thin and sharp, best used for work on heated metal. I took it off the wall, twirling it in my fingers. This felt normal.

  I pocketed the tool, hoping Warren wouldn’t miss it.

  There wasn’t enough time to wait for him. I flashed a look at the grindstone. It was a simple job, one I had done a hundred times. After all, Rennard hadn’t specified that I couldn’t fix the sword myself. He had said to get the Blacksmith to fix it – and I was exactly that.

  I hurried into position. Unsurprisingly, Warren’s grindstone was in better shape than mine had been. I ran my hand over the stone’s round edge. Then I placed the edge of the sword against it, my foot on the treadle below, and pressed. Up and down my foot went – a motion that I had done a hundred hundred times, and yet it felt strange. Like a memory trying to be forgotten. But I wouldn’t let it. I dragged it back to the surface, pushing faster as my movements became surer, the stone gaining speed, rotating into a blur. The crank moved with us, too. Up, forward, down. Round and round it went.

  I turned the blade in my hand, moving it back and forth, flipping it and pressing the edges until the dull metal fell away and a new sword shone up at me. My arms shook, exhausted by the unfamiliarity of these movements. The tremble in my left hand had worsened.

  ‘Wish I had more like you around,’ came a deep voice. Of course it was Warren. ‘You’ve obviously done that before.’

  ‘Only a few hundred times,’ I said flatly, turning the blade in my hands. Warren chuckled and pushed into the room. ‘That’s all I needed. I’ll clear out.’

  ‘Good,’ he said curtly. ‘Didn’t have time for it anyway.’

  I nodded, wrapping the sword up more carefully than before, and moved for the exit, hoping the shape of the chisel wasn’t bulging from my pocket. Warren stepped aside, throwing on his apron.

  ‘It’s a shame,’ he said, reaching behind his back to tie his apron. ‘That you’re here for the wrong reason.’

  I simply nodded, backing out of there as quickly as possible.

  I couldn’t let it sink in that this would likely be the last time I ever set foot inside a forge.

  Chapter 22

  Rennard had been at the barracks all day. I was not welcome on this errand, he had said. I tried to hide my relief.

  While he was gone, I ran back to my room to read the letter Lirr had slipped into my pocket. Jesper’s response was pleasant, but held no helpful information. I knew I would have to ask her directly, not expecting an answer even if I did.

  When Rennard returned in the afternoon, the blazing heat rolling off the Relic told me his mood had deteriorated. I hurried after him, cursing his long legs for working me so hard.

  Rounding a corner, he slammed into one of the household staff. I didn’t recognise the man, but I felt for him as Rennard pushed him roughly out of the way. Perfectly timed, Thorn slid into view and fell into step with Rennard. I slowed my pace, putting distance between us.

  I watched Thorn’s thick arms swinging heavily by his side. I wondered how he could be so controlled around the Relic. His face gave nothing away. I looked at his fists; they were balled so tight his skin looked ready to burst.

  ‘The men have been confined to the dungeon, my lord,’ he reported, like the lap-dog he was.

  ‘Let their mistake sink in for a few days. I will deal with them later. They had one job,’ Rennard spat, his own fists clenching suddenly. I flinched, wondering who the men were and what they had done. Thorn remained silent, his head hanging lower than usual.

  ‘This is unacceptable, Thorn,’ Rennard growled through gritted teeth, leaning in as they walked. Thorn’s restraint impressed me again – I would have leaned away. ‘Count yourself lucky you aren’t locked up with them.’

  Thorn glanced back at me and I averted my gaze, biting my lip to stop a smile forming.

  ‘With respect, my lord,’ Thorn began. The fool was going to defend himself. ‘They were greatly outnumbered, and perhaps if they had known the stakes –’

  ‘The stakes?’ Rennard halted. Thorn and I followed suit. ‘It’s not their place to know the stakes, Thorn. But you …’ His voice dropped. ‘You knew the stakes.’

  Rennard glanced quickly to me, then back to Thorn. ‘You know what this means. This isn’t just unacceptable. This is sedition.’

  Sedition.

  What had these men done?

  Suddenly, Rennard’s fist collided with Thorn’s face.

>   The man barely moved, but he spat a mouthful of blood, a sound almost like a whimper escaping with it. I jumped back, as if I had been struck too.

  With a long sigh, Rennard rubbed his eyes. ‘I’m going for a ride.’ He looked to me. ‘Set out my clothes for the morning and then go. I don’t want any interruptions for the rest of the night.’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  Rennard stalked off down the hall. Suddenly aware that I was alone with Thorn, I took a silent step back, hoping to slip away.

  His head snapped up, cruel eyes finding me, and I froze. He took a step toward me. My feet mirrored his, moving back, until he drove me into the wall. I felt along the hard surface, searching for something to grip.

  Thorn was very still for a moment. Then he spat blood onto the wall, right next to my face. I flinched away. With a chuckle, he sauntered away, leaving me to contend with the sudden lightness in my head.

  The hall swayed before me; my eyes fluttered, then the next thing I saw was the stone floor coming toward me. Darkness blanketed my vision. I wasn’t unconscious, but everything hurt. I couldn’t move but to squirm with pain. Waves and waves surged through my body, unrelenting in their torment.

  When the pain eventually faded to a dull throb, I pushed off the floor. I held one hand to my chest as I brought in a deep breath, to make sure my lungs were still working.

  ‘Kaylan.’

  Warm breath tickled my ear and I shot forward on my hands and knees, scrambling away.

  I knew that voice.

  I kept moving forward, hands and knees working hard to get me as far away from Palark as possible.

  A chuckle.

  Then a hand latched around my ankle and pulled.

  My body collapsed, heat bursting across my face as it collided with the stone floor. Palark’s greedy hands grabbed higher and higher, until he had enough purchase to flip me onto my back.

  He moved so quickly, his hands a blur of motion. My muscles were so fatigued as I clawed at his face. He leaned back, hands still pinning me down, arms taut. He laughed at my useless attempt to stop him.