by Wendy Wang
“This will be your fate if you don’t do as the commander wants,” Trygg whispered against her ear. “Look at him.”
She shook her head. Maybe if she didn’t look, it wouldn’t be real. Maybe. He grabbed the back of her neck and tilted her head up. His touch shocked her and her eyes flew open just long enough to find herself staring into a strange, mask-like face, its mouth caught in a scream. Flies lit on the mask’s half-closed eyes. Her knees gave out and she fell to the ground, unable to stop the wave of tears threatening to drown her. This was real. Somewhere in her fear-induced haze she felt Trygg’s hand lightly on her back, stroking gently. Maybe she should have jerked away, but instead she let it stay, breathing in the comfort of his touch and the respite from the silence of his thoughts.
Three
Trygg led her back to the governor’s mansion in silence. It was so strange how being with him seemed to silence everyone else around them. Was that a Water Kael trait? She wasn’t exactly sure how to ask him. In the distance, she could see the wide, marble steps of the mansion. Peter would be expecting an answer from her. Did she want to join him or did she want to join the traitors in the square? How hard would it be to take care of Y’Ana? She wasn’t sure, though, what Peter’s plan for the girl was. The only way to know would be to spend time with them, to let Peter read her and to learn. Trygg pulled her aside one more time before they got too close to the mansion.
“You understand what he’s going to ask you to do?” Trygg asked.
“I think I know my cousin better than you do,” she said.
“You’ve seen what he’s capable of.”
“Yes,” she said. She was choosing life, not death. “Let’s get on with it. I need to see my cousin.”
A few minutes later, they walked through the doors of Peter’s office again and Peter looked up, his face triumphant.
“So, Mouse, what will it be? “
“You already know, Peter.” Her voice cracked. “You’ve won.”
“I just want to hear you say it.”
“I will join you.” She ignored the bile at the back of her throat.
“Good,” Peter said, standing. He walked around the desk opened his arms and embraced her. Leaning in close, his lips touched her ear. “If you betray me, I will drag you to the square myself and flay you. Do you understand?”
Eryn’s breath caught in her throat at the bloody image of her body being skinned. She nodded.
“Good,” he whispered and placed a kiss as soft as the landing of the butterfly on her cheek.
“Let’s go tell Y’Ana she has a new teacher,” Peter said. He ran his hand down her arm and entwined his fingers with hers, pulling her back out into the garden.
Eryn threw a glance over her shoulder at Trygg, aware of the heaviness of his eyes on her back as she and Peter passed through the glass doors.
******
Eryn lay in the tiny bed in the governess’s quarters just off of Y’Ana’s bedroom, staring at the ceiling. The girl had latched onto her much easier than she’d expected. Eryn learned all the names of Y’Ana’s dolls and her favorite stuffed rabbit — Mr. Thistlenibbler.
The child snuggled with the rabbit as she slept fitfully, crying out but never fully awakening and Eryn had gone to comfort her several times. This last time, Eryn had sung to her and that calmed the girl the most. It was almost as if she had never heard music before. She could not get a complete picture of the child’s thoughts. Some of the girl’s dreams were disturbing — her latest about a giant frog catching her with its sticky tongue and gobbling her up.
There were also dreams about burning to death and drowning. Dreams that any six-year-old shouldn’t be capable of having — still, she dreamed them in vivid detail. Sometimes the girl’s dreams infected her own.
Finally, the girl was asleep and dreaming about a meadow full of candy flowers and Eryn could try to get at least a couple of hours of sleep if her mind would just be still. It had been nearly two weeks since her father passed through the Zoie, leaving her behind.
Caring for the child was demanding, her only free time coming when Y’Ana was either asleep or with her mother. Harbee didn’t like having her around when Y’Ana spent time with her, which was just fine with Eryn because she didn’t like being around Harbee. Harbee’s disjointed thoughts sometimes felt like little shards of glass in Eryn’s head. The more emotion tied to the thought, the deeper and more painful the glass dug into her mind. The only problem was after spending time with Harbee, Y’Ana was often angry and a child with so much power could prove dangerous to them all.
Something tapped the little window in her bedroom, pulling her out of her thoughts and she got up to see what had made the noise. Down in the garden, she could see him, his blond hair illuminated by the moonlight. Trygg. Her heart skipped a little at the sight of him. He picked up another stone and tossed it. It hit the window frame and Y’Ana grunted in the other room.
Eryn unlocked the window and pushed against it with her shoulder. As soon as he saw her head, he waved, motioning for her to come down to the garden. Her mouth curved into a smile and she sat back on her heels. What did he want? She hadn’t seen him much since the day he took her to the square. Maybe she should have hated him for scaring her so badly, but he had also been kind to her.
From her time spent in the mansion, she noticed guardsmen came and went — some were sent to fight, some stayed in the capital and patrolled the streets and others were strictly guards for the mansion. She thought maybe he’d been sent to fight because he’d been gone so long.
Waving her hand, she let him know she would come down. She pulled the window shut as quietly as possible, clicking the lock back into place.
Slipping a knit shawl around her shoulders, she stepped into the darkened corridor. Avoiding the guardsman’s posts, she took the back stairs to the empty kitchen and slipped into the night. A path wound around a lovely kitchen garden full of fresh beans, tomatoes, herbs, eggplant, squash and lettuces. The scent of rosemary and sage filled the air as her nightgown brushed past them. Trygg waited for her in the little twig gazebo at the back of the kitchen garden.
“I wasn’t sure you would come,” he said, pulling her inside the darkness of the pretty structure. She took a seat on one of the benches and he sat on the bench facing her.
“I almost didn’t.” She pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders. “What are you doing out here?”
“I just wanted to check on you. See how you were doing.” He leaned forward with his hands on his knees, never taking his eyes from her face.
“I— um.” She didn’t know what to say. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
He nodded. “I was sent to Tamarik.”
“You were?” Eryn leaned forward. “Why?”
“To spy,” he said bluntly. Should she have been surprised? She wasn’t sure.
“Did you…did you see the new queen? Or Peter’s brother?”
“I saw the chief. The queen wasn’t in Tamarik,” he said.
“She wasn’t? Where was she?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. The chief wasn’t exactly forthcoming. I’m just a pair of ears while I’m there. That’s all.”
“Oh,” she said. Disappointment filled her chest. “So, you’re passing on information to Peter about Cai.”
Cai. Did he even think about her being stuck in Ethavia? They were once very close. He was her favorite cousin. If her father had gotten through to Tamarik, to Cai, maybe he would come for her. Maybe there was still a chance to get away from this place.
“Yes,” he said. “The chief can’t read me.”
“Neither can Peter, which must drive him crazy. He’s not a very talented Wood Kael, no matter what he tells you. He’s good at skimming thoughts, and even better at reading body language. But deep thoughts are not his forte.” She laughed then slapped her hand over her mouth.
“It’s all right,” he chuckled. “I’m aware of his abilities, or lack thereof.”
“Yo
u’re a Water Kael, aren’t you?” she asked softly.
“Yes, I am.”
“I thought so. There’s a mist around your mind. It’s almost impenetrable, even for me.” She shrugged apologetically.
“You’ve tried to read me?” He grinned.
“Of course. I thought you were going to kill me. It scared me to death when I couldn’t read you,” she said.
“I wasn’t going to kill you.”
“Even if he ordered you to?” she asked.
He clucked his tongue and chuckled, not answering her question. “So, how is caring for the girl working out?”
“It’s all right for now. It’s keeping me alive,” she said.
“I’ve heard she’s powerful.” His voice dropped low, as if saying the word powerful increased the girl’s power.
“She definitely has at least three affinities, wood, water and fire. I haven’t seen evidence of the other two, though,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
“You know what’s happening to people with more than two affinities, don’t you?” He shifted closer.
“I… I know they’re disappearing.”
“Yes. Some have been culled. But that hasn’t worked out very well. Most are being bled, especially those with four.”
“What?” she said. “Why?”
“There’s something about their blood. He’s using it somehow. I don’t know exactly why.”
“Oh, sweet Jerugia.” Her hand went to her throat.
“You probably know him best,” he said. “But maybe you should keep a close eye on the girl.”
“Peter would never harm her,” she said.
“Maybe not. But it can’t hurt to be—vigilant. That goes for you, too. Keep your head down. I wouldn’t want to see anything happen to…either of you.” He rose from his seat and brushed his hand over her shoulder before he got up and left the gazebo. She watched as he melted into the darkness of the stables. She stood and her foot knocked against something. In the moonlight, it glimmered—a folded piece of paper, sealed with wax. Had he dropped it? Her fingers grazed the engraved seal before she picked it up and tucked it inside the pocket of her nightgown.
A few minutes later, she climbed into her little bed, placed the note on the tiny side table and stared at it. Had he meant to drop it or was it an accident? Her finger traced the Declan crest stamped into the wax. This must have been a note Trygg intercepted from Cai. Her heart thrummed in her ears. If she gave it back to him, she could possibly be hurting Cai. Hurting the new queen. But if she didn’t give it back to Trygg, and he went to give it to Peter, he could be the one hurt. Peter had plenty of Fire Kael in him and his temper had become more unpredictable than ever. Even more than after his father died and his mother had sent him to the warden’s academy at ten years old for setting things on fire.
Maybe if she read it, she would know what to do with it. If anyone could hide it from Peter, she could.
She reached inside the drawer and took out a kitchen knife she’d taken from her meal tray. She didn’t know why she had wanted it, but as she carefully lifted up the edges of the wax, she was especially glad she had taken it. It peeled back easily and she was grateful it didn’t crack. Unfolding it, she held it close to the light so she could get a better look.
Her breath caught in her throat as she began to read.
My Dearest Mouse,
I hope this letter finds you, and finds you well. Your father made it to Tamarik and I’m so sorry it has taken this long to reach you with the news.
I understand why you have joined Peter’s household, although I do not know if this is because you wanted to join him or because you have been coerced. Either way, I will love you no matter what, little Mouse. If it is coercion that keeps you there, know I will find a way to get you to safety.
Tears welled in her eyes and Eryn put her hand over her mouth so her crying wouldn’t wake Y’Ana. Safety. How could Cai get her to safety? How long would it take? Rubbing her eyes, she finished reading the letter.
If you write me, your notes will always find a way to me. Hang on tight, Mouse. I have not forgotten you.
With great affection,
RVN
RVN — Raven. Cai’s nickname. She was Mouse. Peter was Bear and Cai was Raven. He had not forgotten her. Her heart sang. He was going to come for her. She closed her eyes and held the note close to her chest. When her eyes began to finally feel heavy with sleep, she folded up the note and hid it under her mattress, vowing to find a better place to hide it in the morning.
Four
“That’s very good,” Eryn said as she watched the girl trace the letters of her name. Y’Ana’s small hand gripped the thick pencil, slowly moving over the lines Eryn had drawn on the paper. When she was done, Y’Ana’s eyes flashed to Eryn’s face and then back to the paper. Eryn stroked the girl’s hair. “Excellent, Y’Ana.”
A smile broke across the girl’s elfin face and her pale skin glittered in the morning sunlight. She was such a quiet child. Eryn had never seen her just laugh and play the way other children did. Instead, the girl watched—blending into the background, observing everything the adults around her did. The only time she came alive was when she was with Peter, but he wasn’t around very much. It couldn’t have been good for her to spend all her time without other children, but convincing Peter to let his daughter have playmates would take some time. For now, Eryn would have to do.
Harbee appeared out of nowhere. Usually, Eryn sensed people’s thoughts, almost like her own built-in warning system, before they came too close. Harbee was a study in how wide a pendulum could swing within one Kael. One moment, her mind was so silent it was as if she was invisible, and the next moment her thoughts became so erratic and emotionally charged, they stabbed into Eryn’s mind. Eryn didn’t like to spend much time with Harbee if she could help it, simply because most of the time, it hurt — physically and mentally—to be with her.
“Harbee.” Eryn’s hand went to her chest. “You frightened me.”
“I want Y’Ana,” Harbee said flatly. Eryn frowned. There would be no apology, evidently.
“All right,” Eryn said. The girl’s eyes widened as she looked up at her mother.
Harbee held out her hand for her daughter and the child stared at it. “Come, Y’Ana. Let’s go paint.”
Y’Ana laid down her pencil next to her stack of paper and reached for her mother’s hand. Y’Ana glanced back over her shoulder once as Harbee led her away to the little studio Peter had set up for her on the other side of the garden. Eryn waved and gave the girl as reassuring a smile as she could muster. It was just so hard to tell sometimes if what the child wanted was reassurance. Like her father — her true thoughts and feelings did not hover close to the surface for easy skimming. The two of them disappeared through a passage of two large hedgerows and Eryn turned her attention to tidying up.
The guardsman’s thoughts reached her before he did. Peter wanted to see her. She sighed. What did he want? The guardsman, a tall, lumbering fellow with greasy black hair and a vacant look on his face, took her by her arm and led her towards Peter’s office. Why did they all feel the need to touch her, and treat her like a prisoner?
“You’re hurting my arm,” she said softly. She tugged away from his grip, but made sure not to move too fast. No need to make him think she might try and run. She had no desire to be bound and dragged to Peter’s office. He grunted and put his hand on her shoulder, still guiding her. “Is that really necessary? I’m not going anywhere.”
He shrugged. “Commander’s orders.”
A few minutes later, they passed through the heavy pair of doors and the guardsman delivered her.
“Cousin! How are you doing?” Peter slipped from around his desk and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close.
“I’m fine, Peter. You don’t have to treat me like a prisoner,” she said against his shoulder. Her heart beat a little too fast at her statement. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Peter pulled out o
f the embrace, but his hands lightly gripped the tops of her arms.
“Oh, don’t think of it that way, little Mouse,” he said. “It’s more for your protection than anything else.”
“Do they have to touch me? It makes my skin crawl.”
“Oh.” He frowned. “I am sorry about that. I’ll change my order. Happy now?” His hands rubbed up and down against her arms. She sighed, and nodded and he smiled. “Good. I wanted to talk to you about Y’Ana.”
“Good.” She nodded. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, too. I’m worried about her.” Peter nodded, his eyes narrowing. She could feel him trying to skim her thoughts.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, frowning. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“Do what?” He laughed.
“Oh, come on, Peter. I know when I’m being read. You need to practice stealth more,” she scolded.
“And will you be the one to teach me, Mouse?” he teased and for a second, it felt like old times between them. She shrugged and couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Tell me your worries about Y’Ana.”
Eryn’s smile melted away. “She doesn’t talk much.”
“Neither did you at her age,” he said.
“Yes, but I had just lost my mother. It seems she gets worse after spending time alone with Harbee.”
“I can’t take the child away from her mother,” he said, crossing his arms.
“I’m not saying you should. But I don’t know what happens between them when they’re alone together. What I do know is Y’Ana comes back either more withdrawn or violent.”
“Violent? How?”
“I caught her touching her fingertips to one of her doll’s naked belly. Her fingers were aflame. She burned holes in the cloth. It’s lucky she didn’t burn the nursery down.”
“Really?” Peter said and his intrigued tone made Eryn’s skin break into gooseflesh. His lips curved up a little at the corners.
