The Hidden Witch

by A C Rae

  He thought he heard movement through the doorway, but dismissed it.

  Pryce ran into the room, stricken at Quinn's obvious distress. “Quinn!” He yelled. Quinn pushed himself backwards against the wall.

  “He has come to punish me...” He whispered in horror.

  Pryce, immediately assessing the situation correctly, strode forwards and pulled Quinn into a gentle hug. “I'm here, Quinn, I'm real. Feel me.”

  Quinn took notice then. “But...how?” He took a deep, steadying breath.

  “Turns out my sister had placed a warding spell over my heart. She had called on the power of my family's ancestors to protect me, just this once. Jacob told me. She placed the spell on me, knowing I was in a dangerous profession.” He smiled. “Just this once, I am glad for her over protectiveness of me.” His forehead puckered. “I'd better not have anyone else try to shoot me there though. Jacob has told me the spell can only be cast once, otherwise it would take the life of the person who tried to cast it a second time. That, I will not allow.” He reached for the mug that was by the bed, half filled with water. “Here, drink some of this.”

  Quinn gratefully swallowed the water. “Thanks.” He shut his eyes and drifted back to sleep under Pryce's watchful eye.

  Quinn clenched his teeth. Balling his fists, he managed to swing both legs towards the side of the bed. He ignored the twinge of pain that twisted in his shoulder, and braced himself.

  Shakily, he placed both feet on the floor. He pulled himself upright by sheer determination. Sweat had already begun to bead on his forehead.

  He placed a foot forward, and then pitched forward onto his other foot, lurching towards the open door.

  Pryce caught him just as he was about to collapse in the doorway. His voice was angry and sympathetic in equal measure. “What are you doing out of bed, boy?”

  “I can't just lie there anymore. It's driving me insane!” He sagged against Pryce, panting.

  “Jacob said it would take time, I would listen to him if I were you. He knows a lot more about this than you!” He supported Quinn as he half walked, and half dragged him to the bed. Quinn lay back down, now panting hard, and soaked through with exertion. He closed his eyes for a moment.

  “Pryce, I thought he'd killed you.”

  “I know. You were talking about it in your fevered state.”

  Quinn opened his eyes and stared at Pryce intently. “You don't understand. I really thought you were gone and I blamed myself. I... I have never thanked you for all you've done for me, and I'm going to say it now. Thank you. Since my father passed, you have become like a father to me. Well, maybe a crazy caring uncle, but, you're the best.”

  Pryce fought hard to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat. Before he had a chance to respond, Quinn had already fallen asleep.

  Jacob came in while Pryce was watching over Quinn fondly. “He's a remarkable young man.”

  Jacob smiled with the wisdom of age. “As are you, dear friend, as are you.”

  When Quinn next woke, Eira was sat in the chair opposite his bed, biting into an apple. Seeing that he was awake, she opened the window and called to Bessie. She passed the rest of the apple to Bessie. Loud crunching noises emanated from the open window as Eira sat nervously.

  “So...” she smoothed down the leg of her breeches. Gathering fortitude, she grinned at him. “How are you feeling?”

  Quinn, still slightly groggy, groaned and shifted in his bed. He shuffled up to a seated position, hiding his wince. He smiled shyly at her. It was a smile Eira had never seen before, and it caught her completely off guard. She smiled shyly back. “I have you to thank for still being alive,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

  Flustered, Eira waved non-committally in the air. “It was nothing. Honestly.”

  “One thing is puzzling me. How did you know we would be in trouble?”

  “Oh, well that one's obvious,” she said lightly. “Of course you would be in trouble, highwaymen always are!”

  Frowning slightly, Quinn decided to let the matter drop. He smiled. “Anyway, I've been trying to think of a way to repay you, at least in part.” He raised his hand to cut off her protestations. “Honestly, I want to do this. I am going to find out why your father is trying to force you to marry Lord Cassian. It wouldn't surprise me if it was blackmail. And I will unmask him for the traitor he is, like he unmasked Pryce. So in a way I'll be helping you, and revenging what he did to me and Pryce.”

  Eira swallowed. “Um, thank you, but really, that is not necessary.” She shifted her chair closer to the bed, and to the side, so she could hold his hand.

  She leaned forward, and gazed intently into his eyes. He held still. It felt like she was somehow reading deep into his soul, measuring him, but gently. Her eyes, deep brown, seemed flecked with amber that seemed lit from within, softly thrumming with a song that held him in its power. His lips parted a fraction, as she moved hers closer to his.

  They jumped apart, the spell broken as the door opened with a bang, Pryce merrily whistling. Cheeks flushed, they sat trying to compose themselves. Quinn felt as though there was something about Eira that he had been about to grasp.

  She whispered to him. “Thank you. I accept.”

  Quinn smiled to himself, yet deep inside, a small voice whispered that if he freed Eira from her forced engagement to Lord Cassian, she would be free to leave him.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “The nobility prize bloodlines most of all, but they also prize knowledge. It is so highly prized that they have often been known to outshout each other at the theatre to show off, often to the detriment of any Avarrian trying to watch the show.”

  Book II, A Guide to Avarria

  P ryce was not at all happy with Quinn's plan, despite how well thought out it had seemed to him. Thankfully Eira was not in the room.

  “I never thought I would say this to you about her! It's obvious that your true motive is not honour, not revenge, but love!”

  Quinn winced. “I am not in love with her.” he mumbled. He kneaded his blanket between his hands, head bowed.

  “Good!” Pryce threw his hands in the air sarcastically. “Because any sensible person knows a common highwayman has about this much chance,” he put his finger and thumb so close together they were touching, “This much! Of being with a noblewoman- even one disguised as a boy! And especially one whose father believes you to have kidnapped!” He sucked in a deep hiss of air. “And that is without considering the chances of success of your hare brained little scheme! Out of the frying pan and into the fire indeed! You really believe you can trick your way into Lord Cassian' inner circle and get him to reveal all his deepest darkest secrets?”

  He moved closer to Quinn. “Lord Cassian is a very dangerous man, Quinn. I would have thought recent events would have taught you this!” He sat down on the chair, exasperated. “And yet I know I could rant until I'm blue in the face and you will proceed anyway.” He sat back, and ran his fingers through his hair. He sighed. “The least I can do is help you. Eira saved my life too.”

  Quinn smiled. “Thank you, Pryce. I was hoping you would come round!”

  Pryce glared. “Against my better judgement, yet again boy!”

  Quinn sat back and waited for Pryce to calm down again.

  The plan was simple, but would be very hard to execute.

  Lord Cassian, as any gentleman of standing, would go to the theatre regularly. Once there, gentlemen would show off their latest fashion and fashionable knowledge in an attempt to outwit each other.

  It would be here where Quinn would have a chance to infiltrate Lord Cassian's inner circle. He would pass himself off as a nobleman's son, looking to gain influence in Aelin. Eira would school him on what to say, and when. Protocol was very strict. He must tread carefully, particularly since the impersonation of a nobleman often carried the sentence of exile if he was lucky, and death more often than not.

  Eira had a cousin in Tallyn who Quinn was to pose as- Lord Framwich. He
was a gentleman of great means and standing, but by reputation and wealth alone. He was a recluse, and no one had seen him since he was presented to the King aged five.

  They would involve the actors in their plan. Quinn would pose as their patron. In return for a small fee, the actors would place him on the play bill as their patron, which would give Quinn an automatic place in the gentleman's box.

  It would take a lot of work. Quinn knew how to conduct himself around nobility as a coach driver, but there were a different set of rules and protocol altogether if you were one of them, including what it was acceptable to wear. Luckily their tailor in Aelin would be able to help with that.

  Quinn would be expected to be well versed in science, mathematics and several languages, as an absolute minimum. He would also be expected to read and appreciate the latest music. Luckily Lord Framwich would not be expected to know people by name, since he had been in seclusion for so long. However they would need to provide a cover story for why he had remained away from Aelin for so long.

  It was decided they would pretend he had suffered from a seemingly incurable disease, and had been miraculously cured.

  Eira would have to pose as his young manservant. Pryce had wanted this role, until Quinn had pointed out that Lord Cassian had seen his face. Instead, Pryce was to be his coach driver. He could wear his hat over his eyes in this role to escape detection.

  And so Quinn commenced the task of studying. He would not be able to learn several languages in the short time of two months they had allocated themselves, so it was left to Eira to teach him key phrases he could use to bluff his way through. Failing that, she would be able to whisper translations in his ear, as she was fluent in every fashionable language and would often be by his side to serve him drinks during the play. He could also pretend to be engrossed in the play to skip conversations.

  He already knew rudimentary mathematics and science but was astonished at what he didn't know. He decided the nobility had a lot of spare time on their hands if they apparently spent it learning things that had no personal practical application. Luckily Quinn was able to read- his father had spent a lot of time teaching him when he was younger, judging Aelin to be a dangerous place for an illiterate person. In Aelin you could be taken advantage of at every turn if you did not know how to read the small print on a contract.

  Eira also spent her time with Quinn teaching him about Tallyn and Lord Framwich's estates. Quinn had never been anywhere outside of the route from Dern to Aelin. He had never had the money to do more than survive.

  Tallyn was a coastal town south west of Dern. This Quinn could grasp but he struggled to understand the concept of a coastline even though he had seen ships pass through the docks at Aelin. In the end Eira settled for drawing from the analogy that the sea was like a river that stretched out as far as the eye could see. She used a bowl of water to demonstrate what waves would look like, blowing on the water hard to generate high ripples. She still wasn't happy with this analogy, and offered to take Quinn to Tallyn one day. Maybe they could set off in a boat off the Tallyn docks to sail to the New Lands only discovered fifty years ago.

  Jacob came in twice a day to force a tonic down Quinn's throat. Quinn didn't like the slimy feeling it left behind in his throat but drank it anyway. Lord Cassian's blade had been covered in a poison that had weakened his muscles. Jacob warned that if they had not reached him in time he would have been left paralysed. He predicted Quinn would only just make a full recovery and prescribed a combination of his tonic with gentle exercises that kept his muscles working while he recovered. He was also confined to bed for large portions of the day- time which Quinn spent studying, hard.

  Eira was impressed. Quinn was learning vast amounts within weeks that would take most people years. When she asked Quinn how he managed it, he grinned and explained he had always been a quick learner. Dissatisfied with this answer, she cornered Pryce, who was not surprised but pulled her to one side. “Honestly, Quinn doesn't seem to understand just how quickly he is learning and I'd rather you didn't draw attention to it.”

  Eira, unimpressed with this answer, put her hands on her hips. “Why shouldn't Quinn know...”

  Pryce put his hand over her mouth, muffling the rest of her sentence. “You know they would take him if they had the slightest inkling, so shut up!”

  At the hurt in Eira's eyes, Pryce softened his tone. “I made a promise to his mother and I intend to keep it.” Eira nodded, and he removed his hand slowly. “Please don't ask me anymore.”

  She smiled gently. “I understand Pryce. Really, I do.”

  Pryce smiled. “I expect you do. Jacob has already told me he sensed the gift in you.”

  Eira grimaced. “I thought I'd hidden it well.”

  “Not much gets past Jacob I'm afraid.”

  Eira rubbed her lips nervously. “It's small in me- I did not have to spend long in the Witches Guild before I had learned all they could teach me but it made me attractive to Lord Cassian nonetheless.”

  “Quinn has enough of the gift for them to lock him up for decades if they could.”

  Eira shuddered. “Perhaps it is better if he doesn't know.” She paused on her way out of the doorway. “But then it is a shame for him not to be given the choice for himself.”

  She left Pryce to his thoughts alone in the darkened room.

  Quinn was finally strong enough to ride Bessie back to Aelin. They were to borrow a cart from Jacob so Pryce and Eira could be pulled along by Pryce's horse. Green eyes glowing, Jacob told Pryce's horse he was to bring the cart back.

  Quinn leaned on a make-shift stick as they said goodbye to Jacob. Gazing intently into Jacob's leafy green eyes, Quinn shook his hand vigorously.

  “This is the second time you've helped me.” Quinn said, “Please, if you think of anything I can do to repay you, anything, I swear I will do it.”

  Jacob smiled at him deeply. “One day, I may hold you to your word.” His eyes blazed a vivid green as he held out his hand again. Eira bit her lip as Quinn's hand joined his.

  Quinn's hand seemed to tingle when he let go. He instantly knew he had made a promise that had been bonded with magic and could not be broken.

  He shook away his odd sense of foreboding. What reparation would Jacob, a man of nature and forest want?

  They made a slow pace back to Aelin, Bessie riding gently to avoid tugging on Quinn's shoulder wound. Thanks to the poison, it had not quite healed and would leave an impressive scar.

  On the way, Quinn and Eira revised on protocol, a matter which Quinn, as fast a learner as he was, still couldn't quite grasp.

  “When a noblewoman of a higher rank enters a room, you are expected to stand to attention and give her a slight nod of the head- it is the nobleman you must bow to, not both!” Eira fought to keep the tone of exasperation from her voice.

  “But how is it fair to treat a lady with a nod if her husband is granted a full bow?”

  “I know it doesn't seem fair, but that's how it goes- it's been that way for hundreds of years. Only the Queen gets a full bow.”

  Quinn sighed. “Perhaps we should move onto table manners again. Why you would need so many different pieces of cutlery is beyond me! A raspberry would surely not require a different spoon to tallynberry! And they could both be easily speared on a fork!”

  Pryce shrugged at Eira. “You're lucky he knows what a knife and fork is- many people of our standing just use their teeth and fingers.”

  Eira's exasperation rapidly turned to disgust as they neared closer to Aelin. “What in the name of the Ancestors is that smell?!”

  Quinn opened his mouth then closed it as Pryce cut in, smirking. “You really wouldn't want to know.”

  Eira tried to avert the smell by holding her breath. When that failed, due to the necessity of breathing in order to live, she tried holding her nose.

  Realising the impracticalities of spending her time in Aelin holding her nose, she settled back into the cart with a resigned and pained expression,
one worn by many a visitor to the City.

  In hushed tones, Pryce warned her of a few of the dangers of Aelin. She would not be wondering around the streets alone so they would be able to keep an eye on her.

  Quinn glared when Pryce told her of the breeches that had been stolen from him, as both of them rolled around the cart creasing up with tears and laughter.

  They had to leave the cart behind when the streets became too narrow. Pryce's horse pulled it down the street, back to Jacob. Quinn, stared down the road open mouthed. Jacob had powerful magic indeed.

  Quinn stayed on Bessie, and Pryce and Eira followed behind on foot. Pryce kept his hood low- he didn't want to take the slightest chance, even if Lord Cassian believed he was dead.

  When they reached the house, they found it had been broken into. “Not surprising.” Pryce sighed. “People around here seem to sense opportunity.” He stepped in through the doorway.

  It looked like a small storm had been in and ravished the room. Paper was strewn across the floor. Their books had been stolen, along with anything else portable or considered worth something. When he scouted upstairs, he found even the bed sheets and the door knobs were missing.

  Had they been gone much longer no doubt they would have lost their furniture as well.

  He walked back downstairs. “It's safe to come in, no squatters.” He called.

  Eira timidly walked in, followed by Quinn, who swore sharply.

  “No worries,” Pryce grinned. “This is the fifth time this year this has happened. We can easily replace it all. It's part of the price you pay for an anonymous neighbourhood.”

  Eira looked far from reassured, but was silently pleased when Quinn put a calming hand on her shoulder. Warmth from the palm of his hand soothed her. She smiled. “Quinn can take me shopping.”

  Quinn groaned, and picked up his stick.

  They returned several hours later at dusk, laden with several paper bags. Eira had decided to take the opportunity to prepare clothing for Quinn's visit to the opera. She had sat chatting away while he grimaced, stiff as a wooden doll as the tailor measured him and made amendments to his clothes befitting a nobleman.