Without a word, he turned and walked deep into the maze.
Inside, it was different. Smooth white pebbles crunched beneath his feet. But after a few minutes of walking, it was clear to Dash that only the first few metres into the maze were maintained for appearances. Beyond the first twisting pathways, the hedges became thick and overgrown, encroaching onto the footpath, and above him, they closed over, blocking out the sky in magnificent, unmanicured arches. Dash knew he should be marking his movements somehow for the way back, but he was already disorientated. The further into the maze he walked, the more he realised what a huge mistake he had made. Three whole silvers. He’d get a flogging for this, and the squires would tease him mercilessly, forever. As he worried, he turned left and then right, with no idea where he was going or what he was hoping to come across. On either side of him, the hedges quivered in the cool breeze, their dark leaves rustling. The maze was dark and chilly, despite it being near noon outside. Dash folded his arms across his chest, trying to keep his body heat in. He could no longer see the sky; the sunlight filtered in through the dense hedges in thin streams, leaving the pathways before Dash dim and daunting.
Will they ever find me in here? He felt the panic rising in his chest, and he had to fight to steady his breathing. He continued to put one foot in front of the other, slowly, cautiously. The paths before him were narrowing, and splitting off into more and more walkways. Soon, the hedges on either side of him were brushing against his shoulders as he ventured deeper still. The maze had well and truly swallowed him.
Dash didn’t know how long he’d been walking, but his legs felt like lead, and unease had settled, a permanent stone in the pit of his stomach. A continuous, gentle wind blew through the passageways, sending loose, dead leaves rushing across the white pebble path, which split into two. Dash rubbed his eyes. All these forks in the path looked the same.
He stopped – he had heard something. A whisper. He scrambled, backing into the hedge, wishing he had brought the wooden practice sword with him. The whisper sounded again. One word.
What is it saying? Dash strained to hear, even though the voice seemed to sound as though it was coming from all around. It was in his ear, and far away at the same time.
Oremere.
Dash’s breaths came fast and shallow, and his palms were clammy as he clamped them over his mouth, trying to smother the terrified noises escaping him.
‘Who … Who’s there?’ he managed.
Oremere. The voice sounded again. And this time, Dash felt movement by his boots. He jumped, shrinking further back into the hedge. He gasped. Green shoots rose up from in between the white pebbles, unfurling from themselves, heart-shaped leaves growing slowly from their sides. The dark buds at their apex flowered, and red velvety petals opened up to reveal a black centre that seemed to hold Dash’s stare with one unblinking eye.
Magic? There wasn’t supposed to be magic like this left in Ellest. He straightened himself, and the flowers continued to sprout and blossom, their growth spreading across the white pebbles and inching towards a fork in the path. Mesmerised, Dash found himself following. The flowers, as though they had a mind of their own, waited until he had caught up before they continued down the left passageway. Dash was no longer scared. He knew he was nearly at the heart of the maze; he could feel it somehow. The flowers bloomed faster, and Dash had to jog to keep up with the trail they were leaving him. The twists and turns were dizzying. He turned corner after corner, each hedge looking the same as the last, the wind still sending shivers across the stretches of deep green. The narrow path opened up abruptly. Thousands upon thousands of red blooms greeted Dash. They covered every surface at the heart of the maze. What once may have been stone garden furniture and statues, similar to those outside the maze, had been taken over by the vibrant blooms, with only glimpses of pale-grey stone to be seen beneath petals and greenery.
What is this place? Dash thought, utterly perplexed. He walked to the centre of the space. A stone water fountain, that’s what this once was, he realised, taking in the height of the structure and the way its base, even covered in flowers, looked like a giant goblet. He ran his fingers along the ledge; the petals and stems were like silk against his skin, or at least what he imagined silk would feel like. But at his touch, the flowers shrank back. Dash frowned, and then plucked one from the mass before him.
Around him, the rest of the flowers vanished, leaving him in an old, empty water garden. The benches were similar to the ones on which he and Olena often sat in the gardens. The fountain was dry, but with the flowers gone, Dash could now see the statue of a woman at its centre. Her face was chiselled to perfection, with hundreds of freckles covering her smooth stone skin. Long, luxurious scarves covered her head and flowed down onto her gown, which in turn flowed into what would once have been the fountain’s water. She was magnificent, was probably one of the goddesses Dash had forgotten.
The flower in his hand pulsed gently, and somehow, he knew it was time to go. Something on the outside called to him. Dazed, he let himself be pulled along, the force he followed invisible. He wasn’t cold on the way back, nor did the maze seem so daunting and untamed. He was calm.
I did it. He clutched the single red flower tightly.
When he emerged from the maze, the courtyard was quiet, and the wooden practice sword stood proudly in the soft earth, as though it had awaited his return.
Chapter 12
Soft, gold light filled Tilly’s lodgings, and Bleak gaped at the jars filled with glowing beetles that lined the windowsills and shelves.
‘Valo beetles,’ Tilly said, dropping her pack by the door and rubbing her shoulder. Tilly had offered to share her apartments with Bleak while she adjusted to ‘the Valian Way’, whatever that meant. Bleak still had no idea how long she’d be here, and although she would have preferred to stay with Athene, Tilly seemed nice enough. Plus, Bleak was just happy to be off the road for a while. The seemingly endless travel in confined spaces had taken its toll on her; she was exhausted.
She marvelled at the space before her. The thick branch of a tree had grown through one window and out the other, and Tilly apparently used it as a place to hang her spare leathers and weapons. The apartment was striking in its simplicity, drawing inspiration in a practical sense from the nature that surrounded it. Tilly moved to the counter that lined one side of the room, and took two goblets from the shelf above.
‘Feel free to look around,’ she said. ‘Probably the first time you’ve seen a place like this, right?’
Bleak nodded, and found herself walking to one of the doorways.
‘Bedroom,’ Tilly’s voice followed her. Inside was a large mattress in the centre of the room, sitting on a frame that had been designed to look like it was floating just above the floor. A small set of drawers in the same style sat on either side of the bed, all made from the same timber as the entire apartment.
‘I like it,’ Bleak called back.
Tilly laughed from the doorframe and offered her a goblet. ‘There’s not much to it, and I don’t spend a lot of time here, but it’s still home.’
Bleak was hardly listening as her fingers closed around the stem of the goblet, the aroma of the wine inside it hitting her nostrils. Saliva filled her mouth as she brought the cup up to her lips. Gods, it had been forever since she’d had a real drink. The first sip, the moment the rich crimson liquid spilt across her tongue, was momentous. It took all her willpower not to guzzle the whole goblet then and there.
‘This is …’ she started.
‘Good, right? Valian wine is revered all around the realm – sweet but not overpowering.’
‘Hmm.’ Bleak took another gulp, closing her eyes. The flavour was incredible: smooth, rich and vibrant. She remembered herself. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
Tilly shrugged. ‘There’s plenty of it to go round.’
‘No, not just for the wine – for letting me stay with you.’
‘Oh, it’s nothing. Don’t mention it.
I’ll set the bedroll up in the spare room.’
‘Thanks.’
Tilly led her to the other room. It was much the same as the bedroom but with a desk and bookshelf instead, though there weren’t any books. On the shelves sat dozens of carved wooden creatures. Bleak took one in her hand. It was … Well, she didn’t know what it was – some kind of large, predatory cat, like in the children’s bedtime tales.
‘A teerah panther,’ Tilly said, taking the figurine from Bleak and examining it herself. ‘It’s something of a hobby of mine, carving these mythical animals.’ She reached for another piece, a serpent. ‘When I want to forget about training and Valian politics, I make these for the children out in the Sticks.’
‘They’re good,’ said Bleak, taking in the various forms on the shelves.
Tilly shrugged and placed the two she held back in their places. She gestured around the room.
‘This was designed to be a study of sorts, but as you can no doubt tell, I’m not really one for academics. Anyway, the elite kindred all live in this section of apartments. You’ll find a washroom and a number of privies down the end of the south-east path. Though, most of the kindred prefer to bathe down at the Stream of Rheyah, where the water’s always fresh.’
She retrieved a bedroll from the cupboard and unhooked the tie around it; the mattress sprang free. It was the most luxurious bedroll Bleak had ever seen.
‘Blankets are in here.’ Tilly pointed to the cupboard. ‘Help yourself to the wine and anything in the kitchen. You’ll find we Valians have a very communal way of life. As for the lights, when you want them out, tap the top of each jar – the beetles respond to vibrations.’
‘Thank you.’
Tilly nodded. ‘First meal’s at dawn.’
The warrior left Bleak standing before the shelf of wooden creatures, her goblet now empty. As soon as she heard Tilly’s bedroom door close, she headed back out to the kitchen and filled her cup. After another full goblet, she conceded defeat and swiped the bottle from the counter, taking it back to her room. There’s plenty, Tilly had said.
Bleak undressed, untying Fiore’s dagger from her calf and placing it beside the bedroll. She rubbed the back of her neck and looked around the room. The past few days felt surreal. She still couldn’t quite believe where she was and how she’d got here. Her knees cracked as she sat down on the bedroll, lifting the bottle to her lips and downing the wine. She thought about Bren. Where is he? What’s he doing? She wished she’d stayed out on the wharf with him longer. If she had known it was their last night together, she might have done things differently.
Hours later, she was still thinking of him when she passed out, naked on the bedroll.
Bleak woke to the sun warming her face, and for a moment, she thought she was back in Angove, waking up in the sand. Her head spun as she sat up and knocked over an empty bottle. At her feet were three more empty bottles, the goblet lying discarded on the other side of the room. Her face flushed in shame. Stifling a moan, she scooped up the bottles and hid them in the back of the cupboard behind the linens, hoping Tilly wouldn’t notice the missing wine in the kitchen. She tugged on her clothes, her head feeling foggy, her stomach queasy. In that sense, life felt like it normally did, with a hangover keeping her company.
Tilly had already left. Bleak managed to find her way down to the camp below, and swiped a slice of toast from one of the buffets.
‘Bleak,’ Athene called, buckling her sword belt around her waist. ‘I want you to meet my daughter, Luka.’
Athene pushed forward a young girl, around sixteen years of age, with the same fiery-red hair as her mother. In fact, Luka was the spitting image of Athene except for the height. Luka was short, and her arms and legs were corded with thick muscle, whereas her mother remained tall and lean. Perhaps Luka hadn’t finished growing yet, or perhaps her father had been of smaller stature. The girl grinned and gripped Bleak’s hand in an enthusiastic shake.
‘Nice to meet you, Bleak, I’ve heard a bit about you.’
‘Hi, nice to meet you, too.’
‘My mother said you might want some showing around?’
‘Uh, yeah, that’d be great, if you’ve got the time.’
‘Sure. I’ve got training this afternoon, but I can spare an hour or so now?’
Bleak shrugged and bit into her second piece of toast. Athene and Luka embraced, looking more like sisters than mother and daughter to Bleak, before Athene left, looking as though she were going off to battle.
‘Is everything okay?’ Bleak asked Luka, watching Athene stride off, weapons swinging.
‘Oh, sure. The elite kindred just take their training very seriously.’
‘She’s just going off to train?’
‘Yep, nothing to worry about. Come on. I’ll give you the grand tour.’
Luka strode through the forest like she owned it, waving her hand casually towards the main residences and the training grounds of Valia, greeting everyone she passed by name. Clearly, being the daughter of the kindred’s first-in-command had its perks. Bleak contained her shock as they took to the treetops and passed children as young as six wielding weapons against one another in the training circuits. Bleak tried to ignore the angry shouts of the instructors, but she couldn’t help wincing at the slap of the hard blows finding their mark. There was no crying, no complaining. Those who were struck down either got back up, or they didn’t.
‘Luka,’ Marvel called out from the ground below. ‘Mother Matriarch wants to speak to the Angovian. You’re due at her quarters in ten minutes.’
‘Ten minutes,’ Luka breathed, looking apprehensive. ‘Hope you can run, Angovian.’
Bleak’s chest burned as she tried to keep up with the young Valian darting through the trees. By the time they reached the Mother Matriarch’s tree, Bleak needed to vomit.
Luka slapped her heartily on the back as she threw up into the dirt. ‘Eight minutes. Not bad,’ she said, grinning. ‘Can’t say you look fresh, though.’
Allehra was waiting for them at the foot of her tree. Bleak didn’t trust herself to bow, so she nodded as best she could.
‘She’s a bit outta shape,’ Luka explained as she bowed low.
‘Thank you, Luka,’ Allehra said. ‘I believe you have training to get to?’
Luka bowed again and left them. Bleak tried to catch her breath before looking at Allehra.
‘Are you alright?’ Mother Matriarch asked.
Bleak nodded. ‘Should be fine in a sec.’
‘Take your time.’ Allehra sat down on a moss-covered bench by the door of her quarters.
Bleak shifted from foot to foot, unsure of what was expected of her, oblivious to any protocols that needed to be followed when it came to a queen of Valia.
‘Please,’ said Allehra, ‘sit.’
Bleak did as she was told, and took her place beside the Mother Matriarch.
‘How do you like it here?’ Allehra asked, smoothing out the skirts of another flowing gown.
‘It’s nice.’
‘Nice?’
‘Yeah. Nice.’
Allehra looked amused. ‘And you settled into Tilly’s apartments well, then?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘Good, I’m glad to hear it. Now, I wanted to talk to you about your training.’
‘What about it?’
‘We should start today.’
‘Today?’ Bleak tried to tame her fidgeting hands.
‘Yes. We are working with borrowed time. The sooner the better, I believe.’
‘Alright. What sort of things will we be doing?’
‘Leave it with me,’ Allehra said.
Sweat stung Bleak’s eyes as Queen Allehra circled her, training spear in hand. The two of them stood at ground level, in the centre of a mossy clearing, with Henri’s elite kindred looking on from the outskirts, trying to appear disinterested.
‘Use it, use your power. Pre-empt my strike,’ the queen commanded.
Allehra had removed a l
eather pouch from around her neck before they started sparring. She had told Bleak that it contained powerful Valian herbs to protect her mind from being breached; Henri and her personal kindred wore them as well. They grew the herbs themselves in the forest, though where exactly seemed to be a secret kept tight-lipped.
‘I’m trying.’ Bleak ground her teeth. While the queen’s mind was indeed open to her, her thoughts raced so quickly they were impossible to distinguish. It was as though there were a hundred voices buzzing from the Mother Matriarch.
‘Not hard enough.’ The queen’s spear struck her legs out from underneath her, and Bleak landed hard on her backside.
‘Again,’ the queen said.
‘Your mind,’ Bleak panted, ‘your mind is going too fast.’ She adjusted her grip on her own spear, and blocked one and only one of the queen’s blows. The queen, in her sixties at least, hadn’t even broken a sweat.
‘You have to find something to centre yourself, something to block out all the other noise, and use your gift. It’s a natural instinct.’
‘Not for me,’ Bleak said, hitting away the queen’s spear before it landed on her shoulder. A drink. A drink would make this so much more bearable, especially since even though she couldn’t see Henri, Bleak could feel her watching. Always watching. She tried going on the attack, but the queen moved like water, dipping and arching effortlessly. Bleak went at her with all her strength and speed, jabbing the spear at Allehra, frustrated. The queen knocked the blows aside as though they were struck by a child brandishing a twig. Finally, Allehra’s face softened and she lowered her spear. ‘Perhaps we’re going about this the wrong way.’
Heart of Mist Page 12
