“That’s all in keeping with what I’ve heard.”
“May I ask where you got your information?” Therese asked. “You see, if you know about me, then I have to assume that I’m not as safe as I’d thought.”
Her question was fair enough, but Mara wasn’t ready to concede any information. “Well for now, I’ll tell you that the source of my information doesn’t know you still live. You’re in no greater danger than you believed yourself to be in before I told you what I know.”
Therese looked carefully at Mara, a question in her eyes. Stifling it, she resumed her story.
“As I said, some Oathtakers, and members of the Select, helped me. I learned they’d been working for a long while with Rowena, secretly, to prepare a safe place for her and the child she was expecting. But now, with the news of her death . . . Well, it looks as though their efforts were in vain.” She sighed. “What a terrible, terrible loss.”
“Is that why you asked after Dixon? Do you think him responsible for Rowena’s death?”
“Oh no, it’s not possible.”
“What’s not possible?”
“Dixon would never ever harm Rowena. I would stake my life on that.” Therese sweetened her tea. A faint ting rang out as she set her spoon down on the saucer.
“That’s not what the fliers say. I read the various accounts, and it seems some believe he may have been behind Rowena’s death.”
“Impossible.”
“You are so sure?”
“I’m certain.” Therese tore a teacake in half, then ate one piece. “I’ve known Dixon for years and I have the greatest respect for him. He would have done anything for Rowena—anything to keep her safe.
“Rowena was in regular contact with us—you know, with the group I mentioned. She didn’t know about me. We thought it best to keep my presence a secret from everyone, even her. But she knew we prepared a place for her.
“She was trying to rendezvous with us, but had been unable to free herself from some thugs who were dogging her trail. She didn’t want to risk leading her enemies right into what we were trying to create as a safe haven for her.”
“How did you manage to keep Basha from knowing your whereabouts? Wouldn’t she be drawn to you through her bond to you?”
Therese nodded. “Yes, well, the place we are preparing is . . . Suffice it to say, when I was there, the bond couldn’t be felt.”
“But whenever you left there, it could be.”
“That’s right.”
“And you left there from time to time over the years.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, that’s right.”
“And you’ve been away from there now since sometime before Rowena’s death?”
“That’s right.”
“And Dixon. Did he know you kept in contact with Rowena, or if so, how you did?” Mara reached into her pocket and grasped the compact she kept there.
“I don’t know.”
“And how did you all communicate with her?” The Oathtaker’s fingers traced the engraved filigree design on the compact. The cool of the silver warmed to her touch.
“I can’t really say.” Therese fidgeted.
“Can you tell me who is in charge of your group of friends?”
“Ahhh . . . I can’t really say.” She looked carefully at Mara. She cocked her head. “Why do you ask?”
Everything Therese had told her so far fit with the facts as Mara believed them to be—based on her dream. Some small gamble might pay off big rewards.
“Tell you what, Therese, you tell me the name of the person in charge of your group, and I’ll tell you how you all kept in contact with Rowena.”
She sat up straighter. “I don’t know.” She started to her feet, then sank back down in response to Mara’s hand held out in an unspoken demand that she remain seated.
“It’s simple really. If you can answer my question, I’ll know if I can trust the rest of your story. If you can be trusted, then I agree to tell you my story.”
Therese looked deeply into the Oathtaker’s eyes as though trying to assess her character. “I guess it’s only right then that I should turn your own question back on you: Who are you?”
“Answer my question correctly and you’ll find out.” Mara grinned. “And Therese—you won’t be disappointed.”
“Well, I don’t know.”
“It’s perfectly fine by me if you should choose to say nothing further.”
“It’s just . . . Well . . .”
“Go on,” Mara encouraged after a moment of silence.
Therese glanced Nina’s way, opened her mouth as though to speak, then stopped.
Mara followed her visitor’s gaze. “You may speak freely.”
Therese looked embarrassed to have had her thoughts studied. “Very well then. I’ll chance you would bear our group no ill will, that you would take no risks with our safety.” She paused as she warmed her tea. “Our leader is Lucy,” she said as a flash of lightning shone through the curtained window. Shuddering thunder followed.
Mara smiled and turned to Nina. “Would you kindly step out for just a moment?”
She stood, handed Reigna off, then exited.
Mara reached into her pocket and clasped the compact. “This is how Lucy and the rest of you stayed in contact with Rowena,” she said as she pulled her hand out and opened her fist.
Therese gasped. “Where did you get that? That belongs to Rowena!”
“Belonged to Rowena.”
“Yes! But where— How did you come to possess it?”
Mara turned the compact in her hands, admiring again the beauty of the workmanship of the object. She returned it to her pocket. “I’d like to invite Nina to return. I only sent her out so that I could respond to your question.”
“She doesn’t know about it then?”
“No. It seemed best to keep this particular detail to myself—at least for now.”
“How did you come by it? It’s a most crucial, most secretive, most powerful item!”
“I’m aware of that.”
“You’ve used it?”
“Yes.”
“And . . . you’ve spoken with Lucy?”
“Yes.”
“Again I ask, ‘who are you?’”
“I’m Mara. I’m Oathtaker to this child and also to the other lying just there.” She nodded toward Eden.
Therese looked at the infant. “Two charges? I’ve never heard of such a thing. And pray tell, who are these children?”
Mara took hold of the blanket swaddled around Reigna, then lifted away the portion covering her face.
“Therese,” she said as she bowed first at Reigna, then at her visitor, “I would like you to meet your niece, Rowena’s daughter, a seventh seventh, Reigna.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Rowena’s daugh— My niece! Oh!”
“But there’s more.”
“More?”
“Yes. You see, I also need to introduce you to another.” Mara placed Reigna on the bed, then crouched down for Eden.
“Therese,” she said as she moved the blanket from the child’s face, “I’d also like to introduce you to another of your nieces, Eden. She is also Rowena’s daughter and—and don’t ask me what to call her!”
“I . . . I . . .” Therese stuttered. Her eyes darted from one of the children to the other.
“You seem to be at a loss for words.”
“Why,” she gasped, “I am!” She held her hand to her throat. “When I heard the news of Rowena’s death, I guess I just assumed the child hadn’t survived. Oh, but this is wonderful! Two babies. How is that even possible? Does Lucy know? How’d you get the compact? Did Rowena tell you of it? How well did you know her? Where did you meet her? When—”
“Stop!” Mara held her hand out. “I told you I’d fill you in, and I will. For now, let’s just agree to say nothing further of our means of communicating with Lucy.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Fine. I’ll have Nina ret
urn. Then I’ll tell you my story—that is, the girls’ story.”
The Oathtaker invited Nina back into the room, then resumed her seat.
“Oh, they both are so beautiful!” Therese exclaimed.
“Would you like to hold them?”
Her eyes glossed with unshed tears. “Oh, may I?”
Mara placed Reigna in her aunt’s arms.
Therese touched and petted the child. She inhaled deeply of her fragrance.
Mara then placed Eden in her other arm.
“They are both so lovely!”
“Yes.”
“Oh, what I wouldn’t do for these little ones! You have my word, Mara, I would do anything to protect them.” Therese looked adoringly at the twins. “I swear, I would . . . I would die to protect these girls!”
Just as her words were spoken, the ground shook. The windows rattled and the lamplight flickered.
Her eyes opened wide. “What was that?”
“Well,” Mara chuckled, “if I hadn’t trusted you before, I would know I could trust you now. You’ve just taken an oath to protect them.”
Therese’s brow furrowed. “Of course I meant it, but—”
“But you’re no Oathtaker, is that what you were going to say?” Nina asked.
She shot a look her way. “Exactly.”
“I’m not either. Yet the Good One accepted my oath, just as he accepted yours.”
Therese eyed Nina carefully, as though trying to discern the truthfulness of her words. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Nor have I,” Mara said. “But rest assured, you just witnessed the Good One’s acceptance of your oath.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.” Mara smiled. “But Reigna and Eden are gathering quite a little army of protectors.”
“Who?”
“Well, I’m their official Oathtaker, but two others also have sworn their loyalty, and both experienced the same acceptance. Dixon, and Nina here.”
Therese stared. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve never heard of such a—”
“Yes, well, that’s the truth of it.”
“Tell me more. How long did you know Rowena? Where did you meet her? How did you come to be Oathtaker to the girls?”
“So many questions. Have you time for the whole story?”
“Certainly.”
“Very well then.” Mara began her story with the day she’d come upon Rowena in the wayfarers’ hut. She told of her battle with the grut and of Rowena’s last moments. Therese held the girls more closely as the story progressed.
Before long, Reigna let out a healthy wail. When Nina reached for Reigna to feed her, Therese reluctantly released her hold.
As Nina nursed the infant, Therese’s eyes held a question.
“We found Nina in Polesk,” Mara said. “Dixon and I headed there as quickly as possible after your sister died. The Good One chose me as the girls’ Oathtaker, but he didn’t provide me with the means to feed them.” She laughed. “What is it they say? ‘The Good One provides every bird his food, but He doesn’t throw it into the nest?’”
“And that ended up being my blessing,” Nina said.
Mara continued her story. As the rain abated, she told of how she and Nina had left Polesk.
Therese interrupted. “Who was the woman?”
“I didn’t know then, but I think I know now. I believe it was your sister, Lilith.”
“Hmmm. Did you believe yourself to be in danger?”
“Me? No. Reigna and Eden? Most definitely. My attendant magic seems to include some sort of powers relating to my dreams, and it’s because of things learned in my dreams, and the reports in the local fliers, that I suspect her.”
“How so?” Therese asked.
“I’d say the things I dream are very . . . real. In some cases, such as when the woman who I believe was Lilith came to Polesk, they seem to be visions of things to come. Other times . . . Well, it’s almost as though I’m present in the same moment in which the events happen.”
“Physically present, you mean?”
“It feels like it.”
“Have you tested it?”
Mara was taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?”
“Just that I’ve heard of many different types of attendant magic. I’ve even studied some of the best writings on the subject in the official sanctuary library in the City of Light. You shouldn’t be afraid to test the limits of your powers. They were given you for a reason—to use.”
“I’ll give that some thought.”
“So then what happened? After you left Polesk?”
By the time Mara completed her story, Reigna and Eden were both satiated and asleep, and the storm had moved on.
“And that is everything,” she concluded.
A knock came at the door.
“Who’s there?” she asked.
“Samuel and Jules.”
Therese handed Reigna back to Nina’s waiting arms. She went to the door and stood there silently, then turned back to embrace Mara.
“Thank you. I am ever so grateful. I’m sorry Rowena didn’t make it to a safe place, but I’d like to help you to see to the girls’ safety. May I return tomorrow to discuss this with you further?”
“That would be good. We’d expected Dixon and I’d hoped he’d help walk me through these early days, but . . .”
“So you and Dixon made fast friends, huh?”
The Oathtaker shook her head slowly. “I wouldn’t say ‘fast friends,’ exactly.”
“Oh?”
Mara chuckled. “We had a rocky start. But we came to an understanding.”
Therese grinned. “I’ll be back then, come morning.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Nina, with the twins cradled near her, slept. She breathed softly. The smell of the last of the burning beeswax candles that Mara had just blown out, infused the still air with the sweet smell of honey and smoke. Slowly, the orange glow at the tip of the candlewick died away.
She laid her head back onto her goose down pillow. The richness of the bedding was not lost on her, particularly since she’d had so little sleep over the past days.
Spira sat on the bedside table just inches from her hand. With the door locked and a chair wedged beneath the doorknob, she felt fairly secure. She knew, above all, that she needed rest.
She had so many questions and felt such uncertainty. Her charge was utterly unique. Every Oathtaker’s charge was important, that was true, but to have two, and for them both to be so very needy, was unprecedented.
The evening was remarkably quiet. The occasional raindrop, cradled in the leafy treetops, fell.
Mara closed her eyes. She willed herself to relax, first her neck, her face, and her brows. Then came her shoulders, arms, wrists, and fingers. Concentrating on breathing in and out, slowly and steadily, she felt her body slacken, her mind loosen up.
Colors began to prance and shimmer before her eyes, lazily changing hue, modifying and altering in intensity. Now and then she caught a whiff of one of them—now yellow, now mint, now indigo, now . . .
A moving picture took shape. The colors coalesced and melded into forms and shapes. With relaxed concentration, the Oathtaker sharpened her focus. Slowly the swirl of tint and hue, shade and tone, became a solid scene before her.
She found herself on the floor of a small room with walls of burnt orange. Sheer curtains covered its single window. No light came in, confirming that nighttime was underway. Three iron bars ran vertically from the window top to its sill.
There was a single small bed covered with a loosely knit blanket of muted earth tones. A rag rug lay on the floor. To Mara’s right stood a three-paneled room divider. Over the top of it hung articles of men’s clothing.
A lamp sat at a nearby table, its flame flickering sporadically. It shed inconsistent patterns of light, then shadow, around the room. On the wall near the door was a sconce, its candle unlit.
Mara got up
. She looked around for anything by which she might identify her whereabouts. Hearing the shuffle of feet at the door, the springing whine as the handle turned, she quietly stepped behind the divider and then peeked through an opening between its sections. The door opened.
“. . . to go in the morning,” came a voice from outside the room as a man entered.
There was something familiar about his silhouette, but the light was insufficient and the subject too far away for Mara to identify him.
The door closed from the outside, following which came the sound of a key turning.
Am I asleep? Or awake? she wondered.
The man reached up toward the wall sconce and fumbled with a flint to light the candle. He turned her way.
“Dear Good One!” she gasped.
He crouched instantly in preparation of defending himself.
She stepped out from behind the divider, one hand at her throat, the other held up, palm out. “Dixon!”
His brow furrowed. “How did you get in here?” he whispered.
“I’m not exactly sure that I am here.”
“What are you talking about? You’re standing right in front of me.”
“Are you sure? Really, I don’t know.” She held her head in her hands. “Gracious, I’m so confused!”
“Shhh.” He held his finger to his lips.
Sounds of shuffling came from outside the door, then a solid knock. “Is everything all right in there?” came the same gruff voice that had sounded out earlier.
“Yes, all is well. I just . . . stubbed my toe.” Dixon turned to Mara and whispered, “Keep your voice down.”
Now it was her turn to scowl. “What’s going on?”
His eyes opened wide. “You show up unexpectedly in my room and ask me what’s going on? And the girls, entrusted to your safety, are nowhere to be seen? Huh! Now, I’m confused!”
He sat at the table and directed with a wave of his hand for her to sit next to him. He tapped the tabletop with his flint—once, twice, thrice.
She gazed around the room. “Where am I?” She hesitated. “Am I asleep? Or awake?”
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