by M. J. Haag
“What?”
“In your hand. Why are you holding ribbons like you want to rip them apart?”
I looked down at the forgotten items and tossed them onto a side table.
“Never mind the ribbons. I’m going mad. Nothing is making any sense, and I need your logic.”
She closed her book.
“What is it?” she asked.
I sat in a chair across from her.
“Remember the old woman I told you about?”
“The one who gave you the pig?”
“Yes. She was in the market today. She grabbed my hand and started asking me questions. She said I had been touched by magic. But she didn’t think it was from Mother’s death. It was more recent. I was thinking it might be from Judith and Anne’s deaths, but then I saw Hugh’s eyes.” I leaned toward Kellen. “They flashed green like the boy’s. But Catherine didn’t see it. How could she not see it?”
“Slow down, Eloise. Tell me everything you saw, said, and heard from the beginning. And keep your voice down. Maeve is resting with another headache.”
Kellen listened intently for several minutes. When I finished, she looked out the window.
“Having logic is only useful when the situation is logical,” she said. “What purpose would the Prince have to marry a woman and kill her with a magical necklace within weeks? And for her death to be kept quiet? It doesn’t make sense. We must be missing something vital. Something we’re not seeing. What could possibly connect Mother, Judith, and Anne to the prince’s wife?”
“Judith and Anne? They didn’t die like Mother.”
“Didn’t they? Perhaps not from the necklace, but certainly all three died by magic. They all came from different stations in life, with the exception of Judith and Anne. And the princess, while also dying because of the necklace, met her untimely end far from here.”
“Kaven,” I said slowly. At some point I’d started doubting his guilt enough that I’d stopped looking for it. Yet, there it was.
Kellen pinned me with a stare.
“You still believe it’s the king’s servant who is at the retreat?”
“He’s the common thread. He admitted to seeing the princess, and he’s here now.”
“But why? What motive would he have to kill any of them? We could suppose the princess’s death was an act against the Crown. Maybe because of resentment for having to serve his betters. But, that wouldn’t make sense for Judith or Anne. Nor would the idea that he was a spurned lover. Mother was too old for him even if she had left the house in the last several years.”
I sighed and leaned back in the chair.
“I’m frustrated to the point I want to throw caution to the wind and march over there to demand answers.”
“Perhaps we could start a little closer to home and question Hugh.”
I shook my head.
“He wasn’t very receptive to any questions I asked during our ride home.”
Kellen stood.
“Catherine was there. Perhaps what he had to say couldn’t be said in front of her.”
Anger beat at me at the amount of speculation surrounding the deaths and now Hugh.
“I will agree to this on one condition,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“If we learn nothing useful from Hugh, we go to the retreat yet today. I’m done waiting.”
“I agree.”
I grabbed the ribbons and followed Kellen to the kitchen.
Catherine stood by the oven, her face flushed from the heat, as she kept watch on whatever was inside.
“Are the pair of you hungry?” Heather asked. “The biscuits will be out of the oven in just a moment.”
“No, thank you,” Kellen said. “We’re going to walk the pig around the yard.”
“These are for you and Catherine,” I said, setting the ribbons on the block by Heather. “I noticed you didn’t have any.”
“Thank you, Miss.”
With a smile, I grabbed my cloak and followed my sister out the door. We went straight to the shed.
“Hugh?” I called.
He didn’t answer. Remembering what I’d seen through the boards the last time I’d peeked, I kept my gaze properly focused on the panel when I knocked on his door.
“Just look inside,” Kellen said when we heard nothing.
I pulled the door open and quickly snuck a look inside his quarters before closing the door again.
“He’s not there.”
“Perhaps he’s cleaning the pig’s pen,” Kellen said, uncertainty lacing her words.
However, he wasn’t there either or raking the chicken yard or doing any of the other numerous tasks he would typically be doing this time of day. I stood in the middle of the drive and looked around.
A tingle shivered its way down my back, and I struggled not to let my temper take control.
“Not again,” I said. “I won’t. I refuse.”
“He wasn’t at the grave,” Kellen said, joining me.
“We have to tell Maeve. We need to get the guards to look for him.”
“Eloise, there’s no sign Hugh was taken.”
“He doesn’t wear a cap or an apron to lose. What are you expecting to see? His pants on the ground?”
Kellen gave me a dry look.
“Well, that would certainly indicate something amiss, wouldn’t it?”
“Kellen, I have an itch between my shoulder blades and something akin to a rock sitting in my stomach. I tell you, something is very wrong.”
“Maeve went upstairs because she wasn’t feeling well. I don’t think we should disturb her because you have a bad feeling.”
I saw it then. The fear in Kellen’s eyes she was so desperately trying to hide. All my frustration left me. To acknowledge the fear trying to overtake her meant she would need to acknowledge the danger.
“You feel it too, don’t you?”
She closed her eyes.
“Bad doesn’t begin to capture what I feel. Like a knife in my breast, this growing feeling of foreboding is attempting to claim what I am.” She opened her eyes and met my gaze. “Evil comes, sister. And I fear that we can no longer hide from it.”
“What do you want to do, then?”
“Run,” she said softly.
I pulled my sister to me and hugged her hard.
“Then that is what we’ll do. Saddle the horse.” Releasing her, I stepped back to pull the tack from the walls.
“Are we abandoning the rest?” Kellen asked.
I handed her the items and shook my head.
“I will collect a change of clothes for both of us and tell Maeve we’re leaving. They can do as they choose.”
She nodded and went to one of the stalls while I strode across the yard. It took all my control not to run. Whatever was taking the help had to be near. If it was near, it was watching. How else would all three disappear without the rest of us seeing something.
Fearful, I looked back at the shed. Was it wise to leave Kellen alone? Given that we’d just searched for Hugh separately and had both returned unharmed, I thought it was. Yet, I wouldn’t chance Kellen’s safety longer than necessary.
I entered the house quietly through the front door, not wanting to panic Heather and Catherine until I had a chance to speak with Maeve. Lifting my skirts, I rushed up the stairs.
I knocked lightly on Maeve’s door. When there was no answer, I let myself in to wake her.
A familiar barrage of sounds, muffled grunts and groans along with slap of skin against skin, reached my ears. My steps slowed but did not stop. Drawn by the spectacle of my own foolishness, I approached the nursery door and soundlessly nudged it open an inch.
Maeve sat upon Hugh as she’d done the night before, her hands braced on his chest. Her breasts swung with each unseat and reseat of her hips over his. Hugh grunted and thrust upward to meet her, his face an expression of pleasure.
“Tell me who you serve,” Maeve said.
“You. Always, you, Maev
e.”
“Tell me who you need.”
“You. Don’t leave me. I will do anything to keep you.”
“Then, give me what I want.”
The speed of her endeavors increased with her words. Hugh grabbed Maeve’s hips and jerked into her. She grinned, a triumphant look, and her movements became frenzied. Hugh stiffened and threw his head back with a groan.
A thin stream of green light emerged from his mouth and merged with the glowing green amulet swinging between Maeve’s breasts. Hugh’s cheeks began to shrink in, giving him a familiar gaunt appearance.
Mother.
Judith.
Anne.
The answer to my question had been before me the whole time.
Maeve killed them all.
Silently, I backed away from the door and fled the room. How could I have been so blind? How could I have been such a fool?
At the bottom of the steps, I veered for the kitchen unable to leave Heather and Catherine to the same fate as Anne and Judith. Bursting into the kitchen, I startled the new help.
“Get out now,” I whispered harshly.
Catherine’s surprise turned to worry.
“What did we do, Miss? Please. We’ll do better.”
“There’s no time. You did nothing wrong. You need to leave now before she—”
The door opened behind me, and I whirled to face the threat.
Maeve walked in, pulling the sash of her dressing robe snug about her trim waist. My heart hammered in my chest, and I took a step back. The amulet hung exposed on her chest. It didn’t glow now, but neither was it a dull, lifeless rock. That she wore what had killed my mother ignited something inside of me. Anger, laced with a deep pain, flayed me within.
Hugh entered behind her, bare except for the pants clinging to his hips. His eyes flashed green when he looked at me.
I retreated further.
“Are you trying to dismiss our help, Eloise?” Maeve asked. “While I agree their backgrounds are questionable, their work has been satisfactory.”
“Thank you, Lady Grimmoire,” Catherine said from behind me.
“Catherine and Heather, you both need to leave now,” I said calmly.
Maeve made a sound of impatience.
“Eloise, your dramatics are beneath you. Yes, you found me having intercourse with the help. It’s nothing to run from. Catherine, dear, can you fix some of the tea that Hugh brought in earlier? I think we all need to have a cup while we talk.”
“You can’t hide behind your lies anymore, Maeve. I saw the amulet and what it did to Hugh. You killed Judith and Anne. You killed my mother. I will see you punished.”
I turned and ran for the door but didn’t make it more than a few steps before I was pulled back by my hair.
“Your ignorance was your protection,” Maeve said a moment before Hugh hit me.
Pain exploded in my face. My knees buckled, and I fell to the floor. Maeve’s next words penetrated the buzzing in my ears.
“Hugh, go outside and fetch our lovely Kellen, would you?”
“No,” I whimpered, my mind clouded. Mother’s last message to me rang through my mind. I needed to protect Kellen.
The door opened, and I filled my lungs to scream one word.
“Run!”
Something collided with the back of my head, and I fell into darkness.
Chapter Nineteen
Pain pulled me from the depths of darkness. It radiated throughout my body, throbbing in time with my heart, only to return to my head threefold. I moved my hand to grip the offending fixture, but something rattled loudly. I winced at the sound and the unexpected weight straining my arm.
“Lie still, Eloise,” Kellen said softly.
With effort, I opened my eyes and met my sister’s worried gaze. Her usually pale skin was even more so. As she set a cool cloth on my brow, the momentary respite from the ache in my skull enabled me to note the fear that flickered in her gaze.
“What happened?” I asked, wincing at a new burst of pain. Why did speaking hurt my cheek? Why was I lying on the kitchen floor?
“What do you remember?” Kellen asked.
Snippets flashed in my mind. The messenger boy who delivered a cursed necklace. Mother dying and Father leaving. Judith and Anne going missing and finding the bodies, shriveled by magic. My suspicion of Kaven and the Crown. Seeing Hugh with Maeve while she wore the necklace. The same necklace that killed Mother.
A different kind of pain bloomed inside of me. A regret so deep that it bled. My mother’s killer had crept into our house under the guise of comfort and support. How could I have been so blind?
“I remember enough,” I said.
Closing myself off from the memories, I looked at my wrist and the metal encircling it. My gaze followed the links of heavy chain from the cuff to the source imbedded in the stone of the hearth.
“I don’t recall how I became chained, though. Or why my head aches so dreadfully.”
My sister turned the cloth over, replacing it on my forehead, and the coolness relieved some of the ache once again.
“I heard you yell for me to run,” she said. “The horse was ready. I made it into the saddle before Hugh reached me.” She swallowed hard and looked away.
I followed her gaze and saw Heather and Catherine sitting at the table, listening. Catherine’s gaze met mine, and I saw her pity for me.
“For your safety, I cannot leave,” Kellen said, reclaiming my attention. “Your current suffering serves as a warning to never disobey again.”
Catherine stood.
“I will tell Maeve that Eloise is awake, now.” She glanced at me. “I’m sorry, Miss.”
Heather stood, too.
“Come, Kellen. Remove the cloth and help me start the meal.”
Kellen leaned down and pressed her lips to my forehead.
“I’m sorry, sister,” she whispered before standing.
My mind was too fogged with my aches for me to understand why Kellen was sorry. Especially when I was the one who’d failed us.
While Kellen followed Heather, I gingerly tried moving. My thighs ached but my knees and ankles worked without pain. My hip hurt, and I hoped it was only from laying on the stone hearth. However, when I attempted to push myself upright, the agony in my side intensified. Since sitting up wasn’t an option, I rolled to my back. The contact with the stone made me hiss, and I returned to my original position.
The door swung open, and Maeve strode in. She wore the same kind expression she always had as her gaze flicked to Kellen before landing on me.
“How are you feeling, dear?” Maeve asked.
“Like I was beaten,” I said, unable to keep the resentment from my tone.
“Oh, you poor thing.” Concern and pity fill her gaze, sincere in every aspect of her expression and her tone.
For a moment, I was confused. She’d killed my mother and had me beaten. I couldn’t breathe properly without it hurting. Was she truly apologetic?
My silent question was answered with the slow curve of her lips. The malevolent smile set my anger smoldering.
“I tried to warn you,” she said. “Your inquisitive nature brought you to this. A beaten heap of human flesh before a fire.” She walked toward me and squatted down, her skirts brushing my wrist.
“You could have lived a life of comfort had you only continued as you were,” she said softly, her words only for me. “What you now know complicates things for you.”
She lightly brushed away a strand of hair from my face, a gesture any observer might see as comforting. I now knew not to listen to my eyes.
“You’re bruised and look as awful as you feel, I imagine.”
She stood and primly clasped her hands in front of her.
“Life is all about appearance, Eloise. I’m afraid I cannot allow you to leave the kitchen until you once more look the part.”
Maeve glanced at Heather.
“Has she said anything?”
“She asked why she
was beaten and why her head hurts, My Lady.”
“Nothing else?” Maeve pressed.
“No, ma’am.”
“Please leave us.”
Heather scurried from the room. At the block, Kellen continued to chop something.
“Look at me, Eloise,” Maeve said, her voice commanding. As soon as I met her gaze, the necklace glowed, and an uncomfortable warmth wrapped around me.
“The price of your knowledge is your silence. You will not be able to speak of what has happened here. Not a single incriminating word will leave your lips. You will protect me with every remark. You may know who killed your mother, but you will never utter the words to anyone. In this, my will is your will.”
The glow stopped, and Maeve turned to Kellen.
“Do what you will for her. But remember, her continued recovery lies in your obedience.”
With that, Maeve left the kitchen. Kellen set the knife aside and hurried to me.
“What was that?” I asked.
“We can no longer speak of what we know.”
“That she—” My throat tightened painfully, and I winced.
I tried several more times to speak about magic, Mother’s death, or anything that might implicate Maeve. However, as soon as I thought what to say, my throat closed before I could speak it.
Kellen nodded as I began to understand. Maeve had cursed us both.
I wanted to rage against what had happened, but I was too weak and sore to do anything but lay by the hearth and hate. Kellen knew me well and left my side only to return a short while later with cold water fresh from the well.
“You should run,” I said after taking a long drink.
She shook her head. “She vowed—”
Kellen winced and rubbed her throat, and I could well imagine what Maeve vowed if Kellen couldn’t speak it. I wouldn’t leave my sister either if our roles were switched.
“We must do something,” I said quietly.
“You must rest,” Kellen said just as the door opened once more.
Heather and Catherine shuffled in, giving us both sympathetic looks.
“Can they speak of it?” I asked Kellen, remembering I’d accused Maeve in front of them.
Kellen shook her head.
“They are silenced like us.”
Catherine looked up from whatever she’d been about to do at the block.
