Maray ignored him and balanced herself against Jemin’s shoulder. “Sorry.”
He didn’t comment but simply blinked at her over his shoulder before he knocked on the door in front of them.
A deep grumble sounded at the other side of the wooden planks.
“Cardrick, it’s me,” Jemin said and waited for a sign whoever was on the other side of the door had understood, but there was silence. “I’m coming in,” he warned and slowly pushed down the handle. “I’m not alone. I brought Maray and Heck.”
As the door swung open with a small squeak, a beam of brighter light fell into the tunnel, making it hard for her to see inside. Jemin stepped over the threshold, sword in hand. Maray saw his silhouette mostly and the outline of a rectangle—a bed maybe—on the other side of the room they were walking into.
“Cardrick, are you in there?”
He held out his hand behind him, finger raised, cautioning her to stay put.
A booming bark ripped the air, making Maray stumble backward and almost fall had Heck not caught her by the arm. Jemin’s silhouette blurred with the shape of a Yutu, and for a moment, she thought the animal had attacked him. Then she realized it must be Cardrick Langley in his Yutu form.
“It’s okay,” Jemin called. “You can come in.”
When she cheerily entered the room, Langley was standing by a small table in a corner, an old man clothed in rags, hair long and silver and covered in grime.
“The similarity is astounding,” was the first thing she heard from his mouth. It was an almost friendly tone. “Come in, come in.”
There was the moving of chairs, and when Jemin finally called them in, she could see the entire room; a small, windowless room with a single bed covered in plain sheets, and a heap of straw in the far corner. There was a table at the opposite wall from the door, right behind a small stove, and a few cupboards which seemed put together randomly.
“Hello.” Maray took a slow hesitant step closer to the man. “I am Maray Johnson.” She held out a hand and hoped that type of greeting was formal enough for a former ambassador in Allinan. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She wasn’t sure of those last words. By the way Cardrick Langley was staring at her, she was reminded a lot of that first moment Jemin had laid eyes on her. His lips were twitching in fury, and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides. He appeared surprisingly dangerous for a man in his seventies.
“So, you are the mythical child,” said the man and closed the distance between them in a couple of strides. He grabbed her hand and shook it. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Despite his polite words—‘That’s diplomacy,’ her father would say—his face remained filled with hatred.
“You have to forgive me,” he asked when he noticed she was staring at him with more than a little fear. “I am not used to seeing this face for real… and the last time I saw it, it laughed at me while I was writhing in pain.”
“It’s fine,” she mumbled, intimidated to the bone. She had seen what a Yutu was capable of, how fast and silent it could attack. How could she know if this man—no matter how trustworthy Jemin and Heck claimed he was—wouldn’t attack her the same way? Neither of them knew the limits of what this shifter could do.
“It’s not fine.” He let go of her hand, expressions smoothing as he stepped back and sat down at the table. “Please, sit with me.” He gestured for her to take a seat in the second chair. “And for God’s sake, Heck, come in,” he added in a rough voice, “I won’t bite.”
Heck cautiously joined them and leaned toward the kitchen cupboard next to where Jemin was standing like a statue with one hand holding onto the cupboard, the other one clasping his sword beside his thigh.
“I know you won’t,” Heck murmured and picked a piece of bread from the wooden cutting board that was sitting there behind him.
“I thought you were coming tomorrow, earliest,” Langley clarified, suspicion replacing his initial fury.
“Technically, we weren’t supposed to come to you at all, but deliver her to Scott,” Jemin corrected, and Langley nodded.
“So what happened?” the old man wanted to know and ran his fingers over his beard, eyes both curious and cautious.
“I decided it was better if Maray never got to Allinan.” Maray felt Jemin’s eyes on her. “Well, her father thought it would be safer,” he corrected, and Heck disguised a chuckle in a cough. “We all thought it best,” he clarified and didn’t express any doubts that he meant it.
Langley watched, to a certain degree amused by his struggle.
“And why is she here, then? If you all decided it was better for her to stay in the other world?” He challenged Maray with a penetrating look. “It was you,” he assumed and seemed to read her answer from her eyes.
Maray nodded sheepishly. “I don’t want to be left behind when my father is fighting for all our freedom.” As she spoke, she realized how much she meant what she was saying; and that she wasn’t thinking about her life in the other dimension but her life here—the life she might have had, had it not been for Rhia. She meant the freedom of her family, of her new-found friends—she glanced at Jemin and Heck, one a graceful statue, the other a speck of sunshine in a dark place—and her heart filled with gratitude. “If it weren’t for these two—” she pointed at the boys with her chin and shook her hair back over her shoulder in the same gesture, “—I wouldn’t be alive. That first Yutu would have gotten me there in the tunnel, and I would never have even known of Allinan, my mother’s difficult decision, or…” She lost her train of thought.
Jemin was returning her gaze, eyes as bright as when she’d first seen him along with a hint of blue fire behind his irises, giving away how much more there was buried under his serious features.
“That’s our job,” he said and pushed the sword in its sheath as if to prove a point.
Maray wanted to object. Their job? A couple of days ago, neither Jemin nor Heck had known she existed. Their ‘job’ had started when they had made it their job to protect her. No one had forced Jemin to take her to Allinan in the first place—at least not the first time. Now, it had been her choice, and her new bodyguards had accepted her request, driven by their obligation and their loyalty to the crown—her crown if her father was right. Her stomach squirmed. The concept of her being an heir to a throne she, until a couple of days ago, hadn’t even known existed made her mildly nauseous. Maybe the uproar in her stomach had something to do with the idea that Jemin’s choice hadn’t been driven purely by the motives of a soldier but by that blue flame in his eyes.
As she was losing herself in them, he averted his eyes, addressing Langley. “Anyway, if we manage to get to the queen before the revolutionaries get into the palace, no one needs to be harmed—except for the queen.”
Maray swallowed. Rhia was dangerous, and she knew that her life was at stake. If Rhia had it her way, Maray may as well sit in a dungeon for the rest of her life; a walking, talking blood-bag, at the disposal of the monarch. But, Rhia was her grandmother, too.
“Are you all right, child?” Langley interrupted her thoughts, and Maray forced a nod. “You are lucky to have those two young men looking out for you.” He winked at her, and she hoped Jemin wouldn’t notice her blush. She sure could feel it burn under the skin of her cheeks.
The longer Langley was looking at her, the more relaxed his features got, almost as if he was beginning to believe she was who she was saying she was.
“Have you heard from my father?” she asked, eager to find out if he was okay, but Langley shook his head.
“He hasn’t shown up,” he informed her. “I’ve been hoping to see him sooner, but all I know is that since the attack in the palace gardens, the palace is more heavily guarded than ever. There are two more people positioned at each gate. East and west entrances are locked, and they let people in only for appointments.”
Maray’s chest tightened at his words. What were the odds that he was going to locate Rhia and sneak to Langley’s hi
deout to help the revolutionaries into the palace? With that new piece of information Langley had just shared, they seemed to puff up in smoke.
“Dad can handle this,” she said, more to reassure herself that he would be all right. “He is a diplomat. All he does is find ways through impossible situations.”
“He’s probably just settling in,” Heck helped. “The ambassador’s chambers in the palace are ready at any time in case he wants to stay longer than just for a visit.”
Maray listened to him but couldn’t fully relax.
“He should get in touch tomorrow morning at the latest,” Langley said, crushing what little ease Heck had infused into Maray’s mind. “It’s way past midnight.” He glanced at a clock behind him on the wall. “The three of you should stay here overnight. There is no point in bringing her to Scott now, and we can talk tactics tomorrow when Gerwin is here.” He watched her with weary eyes as he spoke to the boys. “There are spare rooms along the corridor. Pick where you want to stay,” he offered and got to his feet.
Maray did the same and, from the corner of her eye, saw Jemin and Heck push away from the counter.
“Thank you, Mr. Langley,” Maray said.
“Cardrick, for you.” He smiled at her. The first authentic smile she’d seen on his face. “It’s the least I can do,” he added and strolled past her to the door, gesturing for the three of them to follow.
“Sheets are in the cupboard in the first room. And the bathroom is at the end of the corridor.” He led them a little further along the torch lit corridor. The floor was paved with tiles made of natural stone, and the walls were covered with wooden planks. Maray followed him, the boys at her heels, to the room with the cupboard.
“Grab what you need.” Cardrick walked into the small room that looked like a large broom cupboard and pulled a blanket out of a shelf. He threw it at Jemin, who caught it with one hand. “Pillows are in here.” He pointed at the second cupboard door before he walked out of the room, making space for the three of them to get what they needed.
“Sleep well.” He turned around and walked back toward his room.
“Cardrick,” Maray called after him, and he stopped to look over his shoulder. “Thank you, again.”
She didn’t mean just for the bed he offered to sleep in, but that he had made it possible for her mother and father to still see each other even after Rhia’s health had made it necessary for her to transfer to Allinan.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said as if he understood every single one of her thoughts, and with a smile, he vanished through the wooden door.
While she was still staring after Cardrick, Jemin’s hand touched her arm. She spun around, startled by the almost gentle way his palm rested against her biceps.
“Ready?” he asked, surprisingly calm.
Maray wasn’t calm. She didn’t know if her father had made it into the palace safely.
She eyed the two boys and noticed that they had gathered enough pillows and blankets for all three of them.
Heck took her lack of objection as a yes, started toward the first door, and popped his head in. “I’m taking this one,” he informed them and disappeared into the room.
Maray followed him, Jemin close beside her. His hand had let go of her and was holding a pillow instead. Maray peeked into Heck’s room as they passed by. It was small and had a wide bed in the center, a metal dresser on the side, and a drawing of the palace hanging on the wall behind the bed.
“Nice,” she commented and continued walking.
There was a single bed in the next room, a tiny desk, and one wide, leather armchair. No windows like everything down there. She continued strolling down the corridor, taking a glance into all of the rooms—six of them—and found two more with a wide bed and three more with a single bed, all of them clean and neat like the first two.
“Are you taking this one?” Jemin eventually asked when she returned to the one with the armchair.
“I guess so.” It didn’t really matter where she would stay tonight. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep anyway. Fear for her dad was making it difficult to even feel the tiniest bit tired.
With a sigh, she stepped inside. “Good night, Heck,” she called then turned around to say the same to Jemin.
“Good night,” Heck’s voice replied, and his door fell shut.
Jemin, however, wasn’t showing any sign he intended to leave. He had followed her into the room and dropped one pillow and blanket on the bed. The other one he was taking to the armchair. With an unreadable expression, he sank into the chair and stuffed the pillow behind his neck. “Good night, Maray,” he said as if that was an explanation for why he was still there and not in one of the other spare rooms.
“What are you doing?” Maray inquired with disbelief, earning a frown from Jemin as if asking her if he really needed to explain. She waited, tempted to impatiently tap her foot against the floor but resisted.
“I promised your father I’d protect you.”
“Can’t you protect me from next door?”
As a response, he matter-of-factly folded his arms across the area where his shirt had been torn, leaving no doubt that there was nothing Maray could do to get him to sleep anywhere but in that armchair.
“Okay, then.” Maray unhooked the cloak and hung it on the bedpost, not caring that it laid half on the floor. Then she pulled her scarf off and dropped it on the bed on her way back to the door.
“Where are you going?” Jemin was right behind her by the time she turned the doorknob.
“He said the bathroom is down the hall.” Her hand was still resting on the doorknob, and she intended to make that trip whether Jemin was coming with her or not. He’d have to wait outside, of course. A grin stole itself onto her lips, and she bit it down with her teeth before she opened the door and stepped out.
Jemin’s silent footsteps followed her down the corridor, but he didn’t speak, and Maray didn’t turn to look at him until she reached a rusty iron door behind the last bedroom.
“I assume you’ll take a couple of minutes,” he said and pulled the door open for her, calm and polite, but there was a hint of something there under his contained demeanor… annoyance?
Maray nodded and stepped inside, letting him close the door behind her. The second it was shut, she leaned against it and took a deep breath. Again, she was sweaty from running. Her legs were shaky from exhaustion, and she didn’t even want to know how many dead leaves and twigs were stuck in her hair.
As she looked up at a small mirror, she had the immediate answer. Her hair had a halo of underbrush she’d collected on their journey to Cardrick’s hideout. Her face was paler than normal in the almost fluorescent light of the small, granite-tiled room. A little shower-head was sticking out of the dark wall, a drain underneath; No bathtub or confined shower area. Not even a curtain. And, there was no window, of course. A short stack of brown linen towels was sitting on a sideboard with one of those magical basins. She eyed it with frustration. Unless her magic had magically developed and her mere presence would make the water flow, she needed Jemin to turn it on.
Reluctantly, she turned around and opened the door.
“That was fast,” Jemin said from the other side of the corridor, where he was leaning against the stone wall, hand on his sword. He eyed her for a second, head to toe, before he pushed away from the wall and came toward her. “You need my help,” he noted with an unexpectedly smug tone.
Maray nodded sheepishly, for some reason feeling caught. “With the water.”
Jemin crossed the corridor and slid past her over the threshold. As he touched the basin, the water started flowing. “The water will continue running for a couple of minutes,” he informed her. “Or, did you mean the shower?”
Maray considered for a moment. She was craving to wash off the sweat but didn’t have any fresh clothes to change into. She mumbled a curse under her breath for not thinking ahead more. It would have been easy to bring a backpack and at least a spare set of
underwear. “No, that’s fine.” For now, a rinsing of her face, neck, and arms would have to suffice.
Jemin retreated back through the door, face unreadable, and closed it behind him, leaving her to a limited water supply.
She pulled off her Norwegian sweater and stuck her face and hands under the trickle, watching the grime drip into the basin. The water lasted just long enough for her to get cleaned up a little. She grabbed one of the linen towels and rubbed her skin dry, the rough fabric leaving her looking flushed. With a few moves of her fingers, she twirled the forest out of her hair before she tucked her black strands behind her ears. On her way to the door, she picked up her sweater.
When she stepped into the corridor, Jemin was standing where he had been before, greeting her with a bright, blue glance which made her stomach flutter.
“Done.”
He tore his gaze away and started walking without comment, rushing ahead, and got the bedroom door for her.
Maray felt a tingle as she stepped past him into the room, an echo of the electric current his hand on hers had caused.
“Do you need anything else?” He wanted to know, sounding a lot like room-service in some of the hotels where Maray had stayed with her Dad.
“Thank you.” She shook her head, and without another word, Jemin returned to the armchair where he curled up like a half-sitting cat.
Maray took off her shoes and laid down herself, pulling the blanket over her chest.
“Jemin?” She blinked into the light above her.
There was a rustle of fabric, and then he appeared beside the bed.
“How may I assist you?”
Maray felt like asking if he was seriously going to play that servant and bodyguard game, but Heck’s words were echoing in her head. ‘Jemin is always serious.’
“I have no idea how to turn off the light.”
A chuckle escaped his lips. It sounded sweet; different from how she had known him before, like a streak of golden light across a clouded sky. He snapped his fingers, and the room went almost dark. She couldn’t tell where the remaining light came from, but it was a low glow in the background, reminding her of soft moonlight.
Two Worlds of Provenance Page 17
