by Wendy Wang
She walked into the breakfast room to find Y’Ana in her chair, and Mrs. Gilstrap smiling and watching the child eat her porridge of oats.
“Good morning,” Eryn said, serving herself some scrambled eggs and bacon from the sideboard. She took her seat on the other side of Y’Ana.
“Good morning, Miss,” Mrs. Gilstrap said. “You’re looking better.” When did Mrs. Gilstrap see her?
“Thank you, I’m feeling better.” Eryn called up a smile.
“Glad to hear it,” Mrs. Gilstrap said. “I’m sure Miss Y’Ana here would rather spend her time with you than with me.”
“I hope she wasn’t too much trouble,” Eryn said.
“No, no trouble a tall. She’s quite a sweetheart.” Mrs. Gilstrap rubbed the center of the Y’Ana’s back as the child crunched on a piece of bacon.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Eryn smiled down at Y’Ana. “I think I’m strong enough to take care of her today.”
“Well, that’s wonderful.” Mrs. Gilstrap grinned. “If you need me, though, you know where to find me.”
“I do. Thank you so much for all your help,” Eryn said.
“Anytime, my dear,” Mrs. Gilstrap said, pushing to her feet. “Well, I’m going to get back downstairs and start preparations for luncheon.”
“Y’Ana, can you tell Mrs. Gilstrap thank you for taking care of you?” Eryn prodded gently. The girl looked up at Mrs. Gilstrap and managed a small smile.
“Thank you,” she said softly. Mrs. Gilstrap grinned wide.
“You are quite welcome, my dear. You come visit me anytime.” Mrs. Gilstrap leaned over and kissed the child on the top of the head. “You look after yourself, now,” she said, looking at Eryn.
“I will,” Eryn nodded.
Mrs. Gilstrap scurried through the door leading to the kitchens.
Eryn took a bite of her eggs and grabbed a piece of toast from the plate. She swallowed and leaned forward. “What would you like to do today Y’Ana?”
Y’Ana scrunched her face, thinking very hard, before finally answering. “Go walking with you.”
“Go walking with me where?”
“Away.”
Eryn glanced up to see if anyone else had heard the child’s words. Trygg stood silently by the door keeping watch. They were the only three in the dining room this morning. Eryn’s eyes met Trygg’s. Away? Eryn projected the thought, hoping Trygg would hear it. He gave her a slight nod. And she knew she had gotten through. Another guardsman pushed open the breakfast room door and stepped into the room, heading straight for Trygg, speaking in a low tone so Eryn couldn’t hear him. Trygg’s eyes never left her. Even as he spoke to the other guardsman, a feeling of cold dread wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl. Trygg nodded and the guardsmen left.
Trygg walked around the table and knelt down between Y’Ana and Eryn.
“As soon as you finish breakfast, Peter wants to see you. Alone,” Trygg said. “I’ll take Y’Ana down to Mrs. Gilstrap and she’ll look after her till you’re done.”
Panic tightened like corset strings around Eryn’s chest, and she nodded. “All right.”
“Be careful,” Trygg said quietly. A mix of loving concern washed through her. She nodded and cupped his cheek, reassuring him that everything would be all right — one way or another.
Ten
A guardsman she didn’t know led her into Peter’s office, bowed to Peter without a word then left them, closing the doors behind him. Peter sat behind a desk, looking over some sort of correspondence.
“Almost done,” he said. He dipped the nib of his pen into an inkwell and signed his name. He blew on it for a moment before rolling it tightly sealing it with the piece of binding rope. He pushed it aside and looked up at her, a smile on his face.
“It’s good to see you up and around, Mouse.”
“It’s good to be up and around,” she said warily, crossing her arms.
“Take a seat,” he said, not getting up. Eryn hesitated before finally sitting in the leather chair across from him.
“Where’s Harbee?” she asked not wasting a moment.
Peter chuckled. “She’s away for now.”
Eryn nodded. “I don’t think she should be allowed to see Y’Ana anymore. I don’t think it’s good for her.”
Peter sat back in his chair and brought a finger to his lips, tapping. His eyes narrowed in on her and she could feel him trying to poke around her head.
“You know I can teach you to be better at this.” She smirked and shook her head.
“I never claimed to be a Wood Kael.” He chuckled.
“Well, it’s definitely not your strongest affinity,” she said. “If there is something you want to know, just asked me.”
“You remind me of Cai,” he said, a shadow darkening his face.
“How so?” She chuckled.
“He is one of the strongest Wood Kaels I ever met.”
“You could be stronger if you practiced.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“You don’t practice,” he said.
“I don’t have to,” she said matter-of-factly. “It’s my nature. It’s also my only affinity, so nothing else is competes with it. Sometimes I wish I was more like you.” The words sounded false in her ears but there was some truth to them. “If I had an affinity for fire or water or anything else, maybe I could have stopped her from hurting Y’Ana.”
Peter nodded. “I do have an affinity for fire and I couldn’t stop her,” he said. Pain clouded his eyes and his words were tinged with regret. “I can’t stop Harbee from seeing her, though.”
“Why not?” Eryn said.
“You know, I’ve been trying to figure out your real motivation,” he said, ignoring her question.
Eryn took a deep breath and leaned forward, looking deeply into Peter’s eyes. “My only motivation is to keep Y’Ana safe. Period. And as long as she is with Harbee, she is not safe. You know what she’s capable of.”
Peter walked around the desk and knelt down in front of her. He took one of her hands in his and his dark blue, stormy eyes locked onto hers. “You are the only person here who really knows me and who seems to love me anyway.”
Eryn squeezed his hand. “I know.”
“I need Harbee. There are things only she can do for me. And Harbee needs Y’Ana to do those things. If I take her away, it would kill her.”
Eryn looked down at Peter’s hands holding hers. She didn’t agree with Peter’s cause—it wasn’t her cause. “You know you’ve always been like a brother to me. Made me feel safe when I was little.” She sighed. “Don’t you think Y’Ana deserves to feel safe, too?” Peter nodded and rested his forehead against her knees. Eryn pulled one of her hands from his and placed it softly on the back of his head. “Is this because of the paintings?” His head rose slowly and his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Yes,” he said.
“What do they do?”
“The paintings are passageways. To other realms and they are very, very important.”
“More important than your daughter?” Eryn said softly. Peter grimaced, pain washing over his face. “I’m sorry if this hurts you. But she is just a little girl. She needs your protection. Otherwise, one day you may need protection from her.”
Peter quirked one eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”
“She’s powerful, Peter. She may be…” She searched for just the right words. “She may just be a mouse right now but one day she will transform into something else. Something destructive if this course she’s on is not changed.”
“So you’re a prophet now?”
“No,” Eryn shook her head. “I am someone who loves her, though, and I’ve seen her channel her energies in to destruction when she’s hurt or angry because she has no other voice.”
Peter sat back on his heels and stared into her eyes for a long time. Finally, he whispered, “I am her father.”
“Yes,” Eryn nodded. “You are and she loves you so much.”
Peter
sniffled and cleared his throat. “You’re good for me, Mouse. Everyone else is afraid to be honest with me.” A slight smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “But not you.”
“As you keep saying, I know you. Better than anyone else here,” she said.
“I need you to continue being good for me. Reminding me of what’s important.”
She called up a smile and touched his cheek. Sometimes when she looked at him, she saw the monster staring back at her, and sometimes she saw the boy who tickled her till she squealed when she was a child, and sometimes, like now, she saw a man – broken by the world, staring back at her. How could he be all of them? How could she sometimes love him, despite being all of them?
“I will always remind you of what’s important.” She brushed his bangs from his forehead. “Just promise me you won’t kill me for it,” she chuckled, teasing him. But there was some truth to the words. He grasped both of her hands together and kissed them.
“I will never hurt you, Mouse. Not as long as you’re loyal to me.”
“And I will always be loyal to you, Peter.” Eryn forced her smile wider. Her stomach twisted into a knot, reminding her not to believe her lie.
******
Eryn rushed down the steps to the kitchens where Trygg had taken Y’Ana. Her breath sounded harsh in her ears. She had just told the biggest lie of her life, had somehow managed to convince Peter of her undying loyalty. All she could think of now was getting away from the mansion for a few minutes, maybe hiding among the tall hedgerows so she could think.
Eryn rounded the corner into the butler’s office where Mrs. Gilstrap had set up some toys and a small drawing table for Y’Ana. The tiny chair lay on its side, and a cold shard of panic stabbed through her heart. She walked forward, almost slipping and her eyes drifted down to her feet. Bile rose in her throat. The floor was slick with blood, spreading in a pool from beneath the butler’s desk. Eryn walked around and found Mrs. Gilstrap lying face down, her eyes staring into nothingness. Blood spread from beneath her body. The scream sounded distant, as if it was coming from someplace else, someone else. Then it grew louder, filling the room, echoing around her.
******
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Trygg asked for the twentieth time. She held a glass of water in her hands and she couldn’t look away from the ripples. Even Trygg’s attempts to calm her were not working.
“I’m fine,” she said, but her voice sounded strange to her, flat and ugly. She took another sip of water.
Peter entered the room, his face solemn and serious. He pulled up a chair and sat next to Eryn, putting his heavy hand on her shoulder. “I talked to the kitchen maid and two of the footmen. No one seems to have seen anything.”
“They’re lying,” Eryn said. “I should read them. Try to get inside their head. Someone knows what happened here.”
“You’ve had quite a shock, Mouse,” Peter said.
She raised her face and glared at him. Had he forgotten about her trip to the square? “Shock or not, I can do it,” she said, rising to her feet. “This was Harbee’s work, I know it in my gut. She’s the only one who would’ve taken Y’Ana. She’s also the only one the guardsmen wouldn’t question if she tried to leave. Let me talk to them.”
“Talk to them. Be my guest.” Peter glanced at Trygg. “Lieutenant, bring in Alma.” Peter snapped his fingers. Trygg bowed his head, turned and disappeared into the hallway. A few minutes later, he brought the tiny kitchen maid to Peter’s office. She couldn’t have been more than fourteen. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she wore a scarf wrapped around her head. Her wide, brown eyes tried to look everywhere at once, to take it all in. One thought was pervasive. Why am I here? I don’t know anything. Eryn barely had to try to read the girl. Even Peter could’ve read her without much effort. A small leather settee, under the window at the far end of Peter’s office, was the perfect location for her interrogation.
“Hello, Alma,” Eryn said, patting the settee. The girl shuffled towards her holding her hands together until her knuckles were white. She gave off a different energy from most of the Ethavians Eryn knew. “It’s all right. You’re not in trouble.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Alma said, taking the seat next to Eryn.
“You’re not from Ethavia, are you?” Eryn asked, giving the girl a smile.
“No, ma’am,” Alma said, shaking her head. “I was born in Iberebeth. But I’ve been here most of my life.”
“I see,” Eryn said. “And how long have you worked here?”
“Since I was thirteen.”
“And how old are you now?”
“Fifteen.”
“Alma, can you tell me what you saw? In the kitchen?”
“Nothing. I didn’t see nothing. I swear it.” The girl dug her fingers into the back of her hand, her knuckles turning even whiter.
“I know you think you didn’t see anything.” Eryn gave her as reassuring a smile as she could muster. “But my guess is you saw more than you realize. Our minds are funny things. I want to see, if you don’t mind playing a game with me.”
“All right,” Alma said. Her eyes flitted to Peter. He sat perched on the end of his desk, his arms crossed, watching them with great interest. Eryn felt him evaluating her. This was just another test for him. To see what she was capable of.
“Good,” Eryn said. “I want you to close your eyes.” Alma’s dark brown eyes widened and Eryn reached out and took her hand. “It is all right. You are completely safe here. Now, close your eyes.” She stroked the girl’s hand and the girl did as she was told. “Alma, I want you to picture what you’ve done today in your mind. Start from when you got to work. Everything you’ve done this morning.” Memories began to flash through the girl’s mind. Eryn closed her eyes and concentrated on rooting into every thought, every nuance, every second of the girl’s day. When the girl arrived, it was dark outside still. Mrs. Gilstrap, with her kind face, appeared and told the girl what she needed her to do. To help her with breakfast. Most of her memories were mundane until Mrs. Gilstrap came from upstairs. Alma went outside to get wood for the stove and when she returned, Mrs. Gilstrap was leading Y’Ana into the butler’s office. Alma went about her duties starting the fire. A shiver went down the girl’s back, and spilled over onto Eryn. Something had flashed by the corner of her eye. Something pale in the ethereal. A ghost. Eryn turned that over in her head. The girl thought she’d seen a ghost. She went back into the girl’s head for another moment. There was no scream or cry, no other indication anything had happened to Mrs. Gilstrap. Alma showed her the memory of looking at a clock and wondering where Mrs. Gilstrap was. She needed to know what to do to start helping with luncheon. Then a piercing scream went through the girl’s memories.
Eryn knew what the scream was. Recognized it as her own. She opened her eyes. “Very good, Alma,” Eryn said, patting the girl’s hand. “That helps. Thank you.”
“Thank you for your help, Alma. You may go,” Peter said. Eryn pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her brow and the back of her neck. The handkerchief came away wet. Peter waited until Alma had left the room completely before moving to the settee and taking a seat next to her.
“Well?”
“She didn’t lie, exactly,” Eryn said. “She saw something but her mind made it out to be something silly and superstitious. A ghost. It looks blurry to me but I think it was Harbee.”
“But you didn’t see anything else? Where she might’ve gone?” Peter leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together.
“No, she didn’t see anything after that. There was no noise. However, Harbee killed her, it was silent.”
“Do you want to interview anyone else?”
“Who was in the courtyard?” Eryn asked.
“We can find out,” Peter said. “Or we can start searching.”
“We could start searching, you’re right,” Eryn said. “But if we do that it will be like picking up stones and throwing
them against the wall to see which ones make holes.”
“What’s your suggestion?” Peter asked.
“I think we should question a couple more people. Grounds people, footman—someone had to have seen her,” Eryn said.
“All right, then,” Peter said.
“Peter,” Eryn said softly. “Is there a chance she might have taken Y’Ana through one of the paintings?”
Peter formed his fingers into a steeple and sighed. He pressed his forehead against the tip of his fingers. “I hope not, but it’s always a possibility.”
“Was there a place she’s gone before? Some place she felt more comfortable?” Eryn asked.
Peter shook his head. “Not the I’m aware of.”
“We should be prepared to go through the paintings, passageways.”
“I agree,” Peter said nodding. “I am hoping it won’t be necessary.”
“Me, too,” Eryn said. The thought of Harbee taking Y’Ana into another realm sent a wave of nausea through her. If she disappeared into Nydia or Iberebeth or Tamarik, they would be almost impossible to find. Eryn steeled her heart against the possibility of never seeing Y’Ana again.
Eleven
“Thank you,” Eryn said to the young man seated next to her. “That is incredibly helpful.”
“I would’ve stopped her,” the young man said, searching her face. “I just — I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to see them together.”
Eryn patted his hand. “I know. It’s all right. You’re not in trouble. At least we know where she’s going.”
“Thank you, Gareth,” Peter said. “You may go now.” The young man stood up, bowed his head to Peter and disappeared into the corridor. “She could be anywhere now.”
“But she’s not,” Eryn said, standing. “She may have gone out through the back gate which means she could’ve done two things. She either went around the perimeter into the city or she took the path into the forest. You know her best, Peter. What would she have done if she felt threatened and scared?” Eryn folded her arms.
