by Dawn Peers
“He’s asked me before. It doesn’t matter what I say. They beat me.”
“Why don’t you just work?”
Jason whispered, not looking at Quinn. “I’ll die if I work on those trucks. I had friends…they used to work on the wagons. They died so quickly. I don’t want that to happen to me.”
“You’ll die anyway. Look at yourself. Do you ever eat?”
“I…sometimes. It’s better this way. At least it’s my choice.”
“Taking a job can be your choice, too. Then the guards would at least leave you alone?”
Angry tears sprang to Jason’s eyes. “You don’t understand. You’re just like everyone else. You sound like one of them. Do you know what it’s even like to have a job?”
“I was forced to have a job. I didn’t have a choice.” Quinn didn’t tell Jason that she had been a maid; by comparison that job was a joy. Quinn didn’t want to agree with Rowan, but she understood the prince’s point of view. This boy wasn’t helping himself. His mood had turned from fear to obstinate anger, and his own attack on Quinn had riled her.
Quinn couldn’t identify which part was making the boy act the way he was. He wasn’t scared of work. It had been the prince that Jason was wary of. And why was it important to Rowan that the boy worked voluntarily?
Quinn thought back to the ship, and her first crossing over the Sighs. She hadn’t shared emotions directly with the mercenary. His actions had made her hate every facet of him, and with every fibre of her being, Quinn had wanted the man to die. On the crossing back, above and beyond all things, she had desired Eden, in that moment. It seemed important, even essential, that for this new element of her ability to work, Quinn had to strongly desire a result.
As she stared at this boy, Quinn quickly realised that she resented his attitude, even with his emaciated state, she couldn’t care less whether or not he worked. Even if she did care, she didn’t know what part of him she should change to make him change his mind.
Quinn got to her feet, wiping at her trousers and ignoring Jason’s protest. She didn’t want to help someone that would not help themselves, but she felt like she’d discovered something important about herself that Shiver needed to know. It would be useless if they kept sitting her in front of criminals like Jason. Quinn couldn’t affect him. She didn’t want to.
Rowan dashed over to her when he saw her move. “Yes? Are you done, already?”
“I’ve not done anything to him. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I understand what the king wants me to do, but with him,” Quinn waved back at Jason, “it’s not going to work.”
“Why not? The task is simple. He will not work. You must make him work.”
“But…that’s not an emotion. That’s just the way he is. I don’t think that’s something I can change, and I don’t believe my abilities work like that.”
“You don’t know how they work.”
“But I am starting to see how they can’t. The only times I’ve been able to do this before, I really wanted something to happen. I was desperate to change the other person. I couldn’t care less about that boy. His attitude frustrates me, but it doesn’t affect me enough to want to change his mind.”
Rowan sucked at his lower lip as he mulled over Quinn’s words. “That makes a modicum of sense. What do you suggest?”
“I need someone I can react to.”
“In what way?”
“The first time I was able to do this, it was someone I hated.”
Rowan clicked his fingers. “Perfect. I can see why an idle boy perhaps wasn’t the best choice, then. I have a much better idea. Come with me.”
"Come with me. If you think you need have a strong reaction to be able to affect these people, and let’s give you a reason to have a strong reaction.”
Rowan grabbed Quinn by the fabric at the shoulder of her shirt, throwing her in the direction of the corridor. Quinn stumbled, putting her hands out to break her fall. The heels of her palms scraped along the ground and she cried out in pain. Rowan hauled her back to her feet.
“Where are you taking me?”
“What were the rumours about you, when you worked for father back in Everfell?”
“He built a persona for me. He called it the Satori, and he used that as a decoy to keep people guessing I really was.”
“And what did the Satori do”
“I questioned people for my father. Anyone he asked me to. There were so many different ones that I couldn’t really tell you.”
“Did they have anything in common?”
“Only that most of them were unpleasant.”
“Indeed. And I should imagine that, after a childhood full of being pressed into service questioning men like that, you have quite a distaste for men of ill repute. Can I go so far to say that you’re scared of criminals? Especially mercenaries?”
“I’m not afraid of many people these days your highness, but I do question the way they lead their lives.”
“What a very polite way to phrase it. I have a theory Quinn, and I think you’re going to react very well where I’m taking you. Something else my brother mentioned as well, though it wasn’t exactly a secret, that you passed out in groups. When you were younger you couldn’t control your ability, didn’t you say? Well, you can’t control your new ability now, so let’s try and bombard you with that."
“Your highness, you don’t know what you’re doing. I nearly died before, so many times."
“Then why aren’t you dead?"
“Because there was a Sha’sekian healer there, skilled enough to bring me back from the Beach of Bones.”
“Well as you can guess, we don’t have any more of you freaks lying around, so you’d better get a handle on that power as quickly as you possibly can.”
“You think it’s that easy? You threaten me and I respond? It’s not like that, your highness. I can’t just be exposed to these men and instantly be able to do what you need me to do. You could kill me!”
“To be honest, I think really if my father would admit it to himself, he’d rather you were dead. So, I do this to you, and you either become in full-control of your abilities or you die. Either way, in my father’s eyes, I think I win. I’m willing to take that risk.”
Quinn shook her head in disbelief. “You’re just as insane as your father!”
“We’re not mad, Quinn, we’re the only rational minds in a sea of chaos.”
Rowan directed her through various corridors as she was taken through the bowels of Sevenspells. The architecture here was no different than Everfell, and Quinn found herself despondently reminded of the time she was guided to empty rooms by Elias, with usually another mercenary the side of her, waiting to question some beleaguered stranger. She was back here, and she’d always be brought back in this kind of place. What did she need to do to take control of her own life finally? Why couldn’t she just be normal; no one wanted to use a maid like this. She could have just gone with her life, been a nobody, and done nothing. How delightful that would have been.
“Wait out here, I’m going to have a word with the captain.”
Quinn didn’t know whether Rowan meant Harn or some other man in charge of the prison specifically, but she stood stiffly near a wall and didn’t dare to move. The desperate part of her brain wished Eden would walk past then, somehow saving her from this horrible situation. Quinn had a sinking feeling that Rowan had edged over to the further side of madness, and Quinn would be lucky if she got out of this situation alive. Perhaps death would be the better way out. No one could control her if she was buried six feet under the ground.
Quinn was looking down the corridor that Rowan had come from, so she jumped out of her skin when she saw him emerge from some steps just to the right of her. His face was unreadable, but given Quinn’s level of trust of this man, she looked further. Rowan was almost joyous, and given there were very few reasons why men man like him would feel emotions like that, Quinn did begin to fear for her
life.
“Come with me Quinn. We’re going downstairs.”
“What’s down there?”
“I think you can guess what’s down here Quinn. That wasn’t a request, it was an order. You going to have to do this, whether you like it or not, so you might as well make things easier for yourself. I won’t think twice about throwing you down the stairs if I have to.”
Quinn did believe him. She pushed herself off the wall, the propulsion the only way she could make herself move more than a few steps without stopping. Rowan stood to one side, expecting her to go downstairs first. It was dark, and the damp corridor smelt of decades of moss and a lifetime of neglect. Quinn put her arms out on the walls, but recoiled when she felt something moist and squishy. She didn’t want to know what it was. Rowan’s hand brushed on the back of her neck. Quinn shuddered.
“Keep moving. You can go quicker than this. The stairs aren’t shallow. Hurry up, otherwise I’ll push you the rest of the way.”
Gulping, Quinn tried to take more confident steps. It was difficult, but the farther down she got the more she could see a shallow light laying across the bottom of the stairs. At least they didn’t keep their prisoners in pitch black, although Quinn wouldn’t have been surprised if that had been the case. Quinn hesitated at the bottom step, and this time Rowan overtook her without any aggression.
“Come on, this way.”
Quinn felt like grabbing on the prince for safety and guidance, but pulled back from that foolish action at the last moment. Rowan was not Eden. It wasn’t completely pitch black down here, though the corridors were narrow. She wondered how it felt to be a miserable prisoner taken down here. What kind of life did Jason have in the city of Sevenspells, that this would be a preferable option for him?
“Are you using your ability yet?"
“No, why?”
“You need to start."
“But there’s no one here.”
“That’s not the point, and that’s not what you’ve been told. I told you I want you to start using your ability, so do it.”
Quinn did as she was asked, and all she could sense was Rowan’s ire. He carried on walking forwards, and Quinn assumed that she needed to keep herself open to all comers. They came to another door, and Rowan thumped at the solid wood. The door rattled in its hinges, and a frightened yelp came from within. Quinn felt a sharp stab of fear then, from more than one direction.
“You in there, approach the bars.”
Quinn dropped her eyes as she waited for the face to reveal itself. She partially expected it to be someone she recognised, perhaps someone she had seen once upon a time in her role as the Satori. It was just a man though, and even by the standards of castle prisons, it was a filthy one. A greasy bedraggled beard hid the majority of a face that was otherwise caked in grime. The man shot a grin at Rowan, showing two uneven rows of stumpy, black and yellow teeth.
“What can I do for you, my lord?”
“Your highness, I think is the title you are looking for, but I can forgive you the slip. Look over there.”
Rowan pointed at Quinn. The man’s eyes darted towards her and his pupils dilated a little. The man’s tongue darted out and wet his lips, and a shudder of revulsion ran through Quinn’s body.
“What do you think of her?”
Pins and needles ran over Quinn’s body when she felt the man’s lust hit her. It was a disgusting sensation, and one she’d always hated feeling involuntarily. Reacting in self-defence, she shut off her abilities. Rowan must have seen the look of relief on her face, because he walked up to her, slapping her roughly across the cheek.
“I told you to use your abilities. I didn’t tell you to stop.”
“Please, you don’t know what this feels like!”
“No, but the sooner you start complying, the sooner it will end. Don’t shut this out.”
More reluctantly than she’d ever done anything in her life, over and above everything Sammah had every ordered her to do, Quinn complied with Rowan’s wishes. The man’s lust hit again and she dropped to her knees. It was a disgusting feeling. Quinn started scratching at her arms. She wanted nothing more than to be out of that corridor right at that moment, preferably in a bath. Rowan was giving her no choice.
“If you want to get out of here, you need to stop this man from feeling the way he feels about you. In fact, you’re going to have to stop a few of them.”
Rowan hammered on more doors, though the commotion had already brought numerous men to the small window bars. Dashing back over to Quinn he grabbed her again, pulling her up and crushing her against the wall. The back of her head slapped sickeningly against the stone wall. Quinn felt bile rising up into her throat, and she swallowed it down.
“Please…” she began, but Rowan slapped her.
“Focus on them, not on me! Do what you’re told!”
It was hard to concentrate on anything else when he was right in her face. The pain he caused her, the way he was attacking her, everything boiled to white heat in Quinn’s mind. There was only one way out of this, Rowan was making it clear. Quinn couldn’t blame the men that he was forcing to look upon her, men who had been down here suffering for who knew how long. When had they even last seen a woman?
No, Rowan wasn’t going to make her hate these men, but he was making Quinn wish that Rowan himself was dead. She stared into the prince’s eyes, seeing for the first time the cruel pitch-black pools of hatred they really were. Shiver had been bad, but his progeny Rowan was something altogether worse. He was every concentrated ounce of hatred within Shiver, with no redeeming features. Shiver thought he was doing some good for the kingdom, whereas Rowan was just following his father’s orders mindlessly, causing pain to anyone he encountered. Men like Shiver could be reasoned with, but men like Prince Rowan needed to be stopped.
Quinn narrowed her eyes, concentrating, trying to block out the horrible feeling creeping over her skin. Rowan’s eyes contracted when he realised what she was doing. His mouth opened to scream, though no sound came. Quinn’s nose started to bleed, and a ringing filled her ears. She couldn’t block everything out, and the pressure of what she was doing to Rowan began to overwhelm her. Her vision narrowed to a grey pinhole, though she was gratified to see blood running from the prince’s eyes before she did finally pass out.
13
“Your brother is going to be okay, but the empath hasn’t woken up yet. She’s been put in the same quarters as the man you brought from the ship. It doesn’t look like he’s ever waking up either. You see what she is now, Eden? What she is capable of?”
“She shouldn’t have been down there in the first place, father. I don’t know what Rowan was thinking.”
“At least he’s going to live for me to ask him, which is more than I can say for that girl when she wakes up. I am going to have her executed for this.”
“Did you see the state of her? He tried to kill her father, or did you not see that!”
“I couldn’t care less if he did! You heard what those guards said, he was doing it for Sevenspells. Whose side are you on, anyway? I am taking you to meet your betrothed. Start acting like you care. I know this is hard for you, but now that she’s properly out of your way, you can start thinking straight again.”
These were common phrases that his father had been using to him, and Eden was becoming used to them. Shiver had decided his son had been under a malaise when he’d fallen in love with Quinn. Shiver had convinced himself that Eden had been bewitched, either by Sammah or by Quinn herself, and that now Sammah was in Everfell and Quinn was unconscious, he could finally start the healing process for his beleaguered son.
The first stop in that, was arranging a wedding with the Lady Isabella. No man in his right mind would have objected to marrying her, and Shiver had told him that repeatedly. Shiver had also pointed out that he wouldn’t mind taking such a lady as a mistress, and Eden’s hackles had gone up. No matter how much he tried to stay motivated and loyal for his father, he reminded h
im time and again that, despite his noble intentions towards the kingdom as a whole, he was still, overall, a very despicable man.
“Thank you for your patience with me father, this has been so difficult for me.”
This was another familiar phrase for Eden, and one that he’d been trotting out in various permutations in conversations with Shiver. His father liked the fact that he was atoning for his mistakes, and Eden did want to try and rectify his standing in the eyes of his family. Shiver was easily convinced, though Eden himself was still in so much turmoil. This would be the first time he’d seen Isabella since the ball in Everfell, and as she was the daughter of a province loyal to the new regime, it was no surprise she was here at court.
With Shiver looking to make matches for all of his sons, the nobles had gathered around Sevenspells like bees searching for pollen. On the way to his first formal meal with his betrothed, he felt like a trussed-up turkey in the ridiculous garments favoured by the seasoned courtiers. He wished he was back in his captain’s garb, but that had been given to Harn and it didn’t look like his father would be releasing Eden back into that kind of position any time soon. Apparently Eden was far more useful to Shiver right now as a producer of grandchildren.
“We are going to take dinner with Lady Isabella and her father. You are going to be polite, Eden, because as I have to remind you, he has requested you as his daughter’s husband. As he has met Rowan and heard of River, I am hardly surprised, but keep in mind that this is still an honourable match for you. In a time of peace you would never have been capable of this kind of match, so start looking grateful for it.”
“I am grateful father, I will be on my best behaviour.” Eden’s response was wooden, though Shiver didn’t seem to notice, so long as his son sounded pliable and agreeable.
“You’d better be, otherwise you’ll never make it to Prince Eden.”
“What’s going to happen, father, when you defeat Sammah? Vance is still the rightful king.”
