by Casey Odell
But that was an obstacle for another time.
“In any case, you should leave.” She pulled Claire toward the back door once again.
“Are you coming with me?” Claire asked as her mother put her hand on the door to push it open. Her mother paused, her expression falling.
“I don’t think…” Marion said softly.
The door flew open then, and even the dim light in the alley was blinding. A tall shadow of a man stood in their way.
“That would be a very good idea,” the shadowed man said, completing her mother’s sentence. “Now, would it?”
Marion stopped in her tracks, clasping Claire behind her once again.
“Bertrand,” her mother whispered.
“Hello, Marion.” The man’s grin came into focus as Claire’s eyes adjusted. Middle-aged lines decorated an attractive, if rather plain face, his most striking feature being the pair of gray eyes that leered down at her mother. Peppered sandy blonde hair was cropped close to his head. “I do believe you have found something of ours.”
“No!” Marion gasped, pushing Claire back into the room. She slammed the door closed in the man’s face. “Run, Claire!”
Before she could fully process what had just happened, Farron grabbed her right wrist and pulled her toward the door opposite from them, heading into the tavern. But instead of the boisterous crowd she’d heard earlier, a mob of men surrounded the doorway, brandishing weapons varying from swords to maces, trapping them. Farron and Marion surrounded Claire, both at the ready. Claire searched the crowd for Alan or Zeriod, but they were curiously absent. Had they been disposed of already? Claire’s stomach twisted into knots. Had she gotten them all killed?
Farron drew one of his daggers from under his cloak and held it at the ready, his other hand still gripping her wrist hard. Marion held her other wrist, just as tightly. It had been a trap, just as they had all expected. She’d been foolish to think she could come out of this unscathed. She had finally found her mother, but at what price?
Deep laughter sounded from the hall behind them. Bertrand emerged from the storage room, a few men in dark clothing flanking him. “I see that you have received my message,” he said, his eyes settling on Claire, looking her up and down, studying her. “Though I must say, even I didn’t think it would actually work.”
Marion stepped between them, blocking his view of her. “Let her go, Bertrand.”
He laughed again. “Or what?” He motioned to the room around them. “You are outnumbered. Your friends…” He came around so he could look at Claire again, then looked past her to Farron. “Well, let’s just say they were easier to spot than you were.”
“What did you do to them?” Guilt ate away at her insides.
“They’ve been dealt with,” Bertrand said, his voice icy cold. He settled his gray eyes on her once again. “Now, be a good girl and come with me before we do the same to your… mother, here.”
“I won’t let you!” Claire wrenched her wrists free. Anger started to take over. The necklace grew warm around her neck, and the scar along the mark began to itch. Her magic came easier to her now. A blue glowing orb formed in her right hand as she held it up in front of her.
The men surrounding them took a step forward, readying to attack, but Bertrand stopped them with a hand. He grinned. “Even with that, you can’t hope to win against all of us.” More men streamed in from the back room and from the front door, down the stairs from the upper levels.
Claire swallowed. The man had been prepared, that was certain. Their odds weren’t looking good, but she had to try. At least to ensure the safety of Farron and her mother. If anything happened to them… Well, she tried not to think about that.
Archers lined up on the stairs and drew their bows, aiming at Claire and her companions. Farron faced away from her, keeping the majority of the mob in his sight.
Claire tried her best to feign confidence, but sweat had already broken out across her skin. “Apparently you don’t know what me and my friend here are capable of.” She let the blue sphere grow bigger.
“I assure you, that we are well aware, my dear,” Bertrand shot back. “And I guarantee you that we are willing to kill your friend, and your sweet mother, to get what we want. Is that what you want? Are you willing to risk their lives?”
Claire faltered for a moment, her expression surely betraying her. It wasn’t what she wanted at all. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m giving you a choice.” Bertrand stepped forward, his eyes narrowing on her. “Your life in exchange for theirs.”
“You would let them go?” The words spouted from her mouth before she could stop them. The blue ball faded from her hand and she let it drop to her side.
“Don’t listen to him, Claire!” Marion sneered from behind her.
“In exchange for me?” she said softly, her eyes on the floor as she weighed her options. If she went with him, her freedom, that her mother had fought so hard to give her, would be gone, possibly forever, but at least she would know Marion and Farron would be spared, for now. Of course, there was no guarantee that he would even keep his word. If they fought, Claire risked losing both of them, forever. Either way, she would lose. “Do you promise?” She raised her chin, gathering her strength and courage.
“Claire!” Farron shouted.
She took a deep breath and stepped toward Bertrand, her knees shaking. “My life for theirs.”
“Claire, don’t!” Farron shouted again. She heard the stomping of boots on wood and she turned just in time to see a group of men restraining the elf, driving him down to his knees, but not without a struggle.
A few men came forward to take Marion by the arms but didn’t touch her when they saw the glare she shot at them.
“Wise choice, young lady,” Bertrand said, a leering smile on his lips. He motioned to the two dark-clad men that flanked him and they sprang forward to grab her by the arms.
The two men started to pull her to the back room, but Claire dug her heels into the floor. “Wait!”
Bertrand frowned.
“At least, let me say goodbye,” she said, pleading.
He narrowed his eyes at her again, studying her, but nodded. The two men released her and she almost stumbled to the floor.
Claire raced into her mother’s arms, hugging her as if it were the last time she would ever see her, knowing that it could very well be.
“Claire, oh, Claire, no!” her mother whispered into her ear. She squeezed Claire so tight she could hardly breathe. “Don’t do this!”
The decision had been made. She was doing this to save them, to return the favor. She had to pry herself out of her mother’s embrace. She gave Marion’s hands a reassuring squeeze before turning to Farron. She dropped down to her knees to join him on the floor. His expression was hard to read, blank like the mask he used to wear, but with hints of anger and worry showing through. He was seething, she could tell, his shoulders tense under the men’s hands.
“Fare,” she said, framing his face in her hands. He remained silent, almost glaring down at her. He was angry at her and it was understandable. She kissed him then, long and deep, not caring who saw, not even her mother. It took him a few moments to give in to her, to soften up, but soon he was returning her passion with his own, making it hard for her to tear away. When she was finally able to, she hugged him, bringing her mouth close to his ear. In the quietest whisper she could muster, she said, “Find the others.”
The two men grabbed her again and dragged her up to her feet. She looked back at Farron and her mother as she was pulled away to be a prisoner once again. Farron glared back, his eyes showing he understood, however, he didn’t look at all happy about it.
It wasn’t until after she had offered her life for theirs that the thought had occurred to her. She still had a mission, to find the other Star Children. She would be in the Syndicate’s clasp, but she would be that much closer to learning where they kept the others of her kind hidden. At least, that
was what she hoped. If that failed, her mother would probably know, or at least have hints to their whereabouts. It wasn’t the best of plans, and she didn’t even know if it would work, but it was the best she was able to come up with given the circumstances.
She just hoped Bertrand would keep his word and that this wasn’t the last time she saw the two people she cared about the most alive.
Claire was slammed onto the coach floor, and Bertrand and his two lackeys held her down. The little door shut, plunging the carriage into darkness, only slivers of light peeking through. The carriage jerked and plunged through the streets. The horse’s hooves were soft thuds in the mud.
“Hold her,” Bertrand boomed. He rifled through a small box at his side on the seat.
The two men clamped hands down on her shoulders and hips, tearing her jacket and cloak away to reveal her arm. A flash of silver chain glittered in the dim light, linking a series of silver bands with intricate symbols etched into the metal together in an elaborate fashion. Bertrand reached for her right arm and slipped the first band around her wrist, the next one on her forearm, the last two on her upper arm. He turned her arm over and slipped a key out of the box and locked each band in place.
“What is this?” Claire asked, her eyes wide.
Bertrand smiled, and it wasn’t friendly. “A little something that will make you more… compliant.” He released her arm and held the key up in front of him so it dangled in a sliver of light. “The elves used to use these to keep their servants and slaves from causing any unnecessary trouble.” He tucked the key away in his shirt before reaching toward her neck and touched the pendant. “This could also cause some trouble.” He grasped the blue gem and yanked, the already weakened clasp breaking easily.
“No!” Claire exclaimed. She tried to raise up but the two men pushed her back down onto the floor. Claire winced. There was surely going to be bruises later. “No, please,” she pleaded. “I need that.”
Bertrand held the necklace up in the light, the stone sparkling brilliantly. “Yes, this little thing could be troubling, indeed.” He tucked it away in his shirt pocket to join the key.
Claire’s breath quickened as fear swept over her. How could she convince him that she needed that necklace to live? That it was the only thing slowing the mark down? She could feel the magic inside her swell. Already she felt unstable, her emotional state definitely not helping anything. She took a couple of slow, deep breaths, closing her eyes. She needed to calm herself. The silver bands and chain grew warm against her skin and she could feel the swirling storm of magic inside of her start to diminish. She let out a sigh of relief. Well, sort of a relief. She didn’t know what the contraption he’d put on her was, but it seemed it was to stop her from using her powers. And although not ideal, perhaps it could help keep the mark under control as well.
“That’s a good girl,” Bertrand said as he relaxed against the cushions. The two men released her then.
Claire slumped on the floor and glared up at him.
“If you would have just come to us sooner, we could have avoided all of this,” Bertrand stated, motioning around him with his hands.
“And miss the royal treatment?” Claire shot back.
Bertrand’s deep laugh filled the carriage. He leaned forward on his knees and looked down at her. “I suppose you get your stubbornness from your mother.”
“She taught me well.”
“Unfortunately,” he said, leaning back again, a frown on his face. “It took us weeks to find her after the incident in Stockton. And when we finally did, we find out that she had conveniently lost you.” A short burst of laughter escaped him. “We knew she cared about you as if you were her own daughter. To think that she had somehow just lost you, well, I wasn’t the only one who was skeptical.”
“So how did you find me?” Claire asked. “Did you torture her?”
“Of course we did,” he stated matter-of-factly.
Claire started to launch herself at him, but the two men grabbed her again, slamming her back down. “You monster!”
“She betrayed us!” Bertrand growled. “If she would have just handed you over to us like she was supposed to, all of this could have been avoided! She broke the rules— she wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you, to care for you. I told Deliah that she was too emotional to watch you, that she was too soft, but she didn’t listen.”
“Good,” Claire said, not even trying to hide the bitterness in her voice. “I was a child. Not some sort of thing to be kept. To be hidden away. I’m a person, and she gave me a chance to live my life. She gave me my freedom.”
“Hmph,” Bertrand snorted. “You think you deserve freedom? That you deserve to live a normal life? No one deserves anything in life. You are a weapon, that is all. You are gifted with enough power to destroy entire cities. It is because we hide you that we are able to keep the balance in the world. What is it, do you think, that King Líadan and that Council of his wanted to use you for? Or that General and Lord you made such close friends with? I hear rumors from a few of my men that the newly crowned Philip of Lendon is starting up a search for your kind. Not to mention what the elves would have done with you if their mission had succeeded. Your freedom has made a mess of things— something we’ve managed to avoid for all these years, since the Great War. So no, you do not deserve your freedom. The cost of it is too high.”
“You can’t hide all of us forever,” she said softly. Lianna and Razi were proof of that.
Bertrand snorted, glaring down at her. “Not if it was up to me.”
Claire just returned his glare, thankful that he took orders from someone else, someone with a little more compassion, or at least not as ruthless as this man.
“Will you keep your word?” she asked after several moments of silence.
“I always keep my word,” he replied, his eyes watching the world outside through a small gap in the curtains. “The swords for hire, however— they are not as honorable.”
The fact that he seemed to think he had any honor himself was almost laughable, but her anger swelled up inside of her once again. “You gave your word that they will be unharmed if I came with you freely!” She shifted towards him as far as the other men’s hands would allow. “If you do not keep up your end of the bargain, why should I?”
“Calm yourself!” he commanded, his eyes turning to her once again. “I do not have anything to gain with their deaths. As long as they are alive, I have a way to control you. I assure you they will remain alive, but I cannot promise you they will be unharmed.” He grinned, probably thinking himself clever. “And I’m confident my men are just itching to have fun with that elf of yours. The Sin de Reine, is it?”
Claire could feel her eyebrow twitch. Farron’s reputation stretched far and wide. But if her mother had heard of him, certainly this man had.
“You seem surprised. Of course, I know who he is. I’m just curious as to how he got his hands on you in the first place since he went missing.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sure his intentions were the same as the others.”
Claire tried her best to remain silent. He was trying to get a rise out of her. She knew the truth, and that was all that mattered.
“Now, as much fun as this is, I would appreciate some silence, as well, I’m sure, as these fine young gentlemen.” He nodded towards the men in question.
Before she could protest, a hand clamped down over her mouth and nose, pressing a damp, foul-smelling cloth hard against her so she had no choice to breathe it in. The world around her grew dimmer as the drug burned down her throat. Her body grew limp and slumped against the floor. It wasn’t long before darkness took her completely, and then she had no choice but to be compliant, and to trust that they wouldn’t do any more unscrupulous things to her. Her life was in their hands, these men with such questionable honor.
She had ruined her mother’s gift of freedom, and she had no one to blame but herself.
The pain in her head was the first thin
g she felt as the darkness started to subside, followed by the aches throughout her body, the bruises that had surely formed along her side. Her body felt sluggish as she tried to stretch, the silver chain and bands on her right arm pinching her skin. The crackling of a fire registered in her left ear and it was then that she realized she wasn’t on the hard floor of the carriage anymore. She lay on something softer, though still considerably firm. She cracked her eyes open at last, slowly, to ease the pain of light. Orange flickered across a new ceiling, belonging to yet another new room. But she wasn’t as alarmed as she would have been a few months ago. It seemed normal now. Another room, another place. She had wanted to see the world, right?
She remained calm as she stared at the ceiling, wondering how long she had been out this time, where she was. She looked over at the fire and reveled in its warmth, the flames hypnotizing in her state, and realized that she was still on the floor after all. Only a thin cushion separated her from the wooden floor; and a wool blanket from the cold.
“Good, you’re awake,” a commanding female voice said from behind her.
Claire jumped and whipped her head around as fast as she could manage at the moment. She hadn’t heard the woman come in at all, not that it was hard to sneak up on her. She looked up at the tall blonde looming over her.
And it was then that she noticed a second woman sitting on the floor by the door across the room, still as a statue. Had she been there the entire time? The sitting woman remained silent, her eyes downcast, her long brown hair in a single braid over her shoulder. Claire stared at the woman. She seemed familiar somehow, but she just couldn’t place it.
“That fool, he gave you way too much,” the blonde giant said, sighing. “You’ve been out for days.”
Well, at least she had the answer to her first question, and she didn’t even have to try.
“Selene, thank you, you may leave,” the blonde woman said over her shoulder.
The other woman nodded, silently stood, and slipped out the door, sliding it closed behind her.
