Shadow and Thorn

by Kenley Davidson

  “I have no idea how to talk to anyone,” Zara retorted. “And after a few more months here I might lose the ability to talk entirely from lack of practice.”

  “Don’t be melodramatic,” Athven said sternly. “You have begun very well with three out of five companions. Now you simply need to win over the others.”

  “Then I hope you are reconciled to a long wait,” Zara said with a sigh. “Alexei is not going to forgive me anytime soon.”

  “He must,” Athven replied simply. “There is no time for a quarrel. The two of you must work together to find the Rose.”

  “Then why are you telling me? I’m not the one starting arguments.”

  “I have already told him,” the woman admitted. “It might take him a little longer to realize that I am right. So I am asking you to be the one to set aside your quarrel. To forgive his misunderstanding for the good of you both.”

  “I have spent my whole life being the one to forgive!” Zara argued angrily. “It is always my part to set my feelings aside and put someone else’s happiness first. I am always the one who waits. The one who makes room for the tender egos of others. Why, Athven? Why would you ask this of me? Why must I give and give again?”

  Athven suddenly looked tired. “Because you are here and no one else is. Because we deal with the situation we have, rather than the one we wish we had. And because we can none of us forgive on another’s behalf. If you can find it in you to move past this, I believe that someday he will understand.”

  Zara woke, her retort still on her lips, but Athven was gone, and the room was dark, except for the moonlight streaming in through the window. She thought about going back down. She considered the warm fire and her blankets. And then she considered the company.

  She removed her boots, tucked herself under the blue coverlet and went back to sleep.

  She was awakened by the very last thing she would have expected—a knock on the door. It was gentle, almost tentative, and she was so alarmed at being found that she almost didn’t answer.

  By the third knock, however, it became clear that whoever it was, they weren’t giving up.

  “I’m coming,” she called, and muttered to herself about early risers all the way to the door.

  It was …

  “I’m sorry,” she told him, “I don’t remember your name.”

  It was the short, stout man with the nervous-looking mustache. In fact, he appeared rather nervous all over, except for his eyes, which just looked like a disappointed puppy’s. “It’s Gulver,” he said. “And I was wondering if you would join us downstairs, Miss Zara.”

  “It’s just Zara,” she informed him. “And why should I? No one wants me, and I’d like to think I’m not foolish enough to keep turning up where I’m not wanted.”

  “But you’re needed.”

  She saw the pleading look in his eyes and groaned. How had he known just what to say? She sat back on the bed to pull her boots on.

  “Gulver,” she asked suddenly, “why are you here?”

  “Because Silvay asked me to find you,” he said earnestly, before adding, “and because I followed the cat.”

  “No, I mean why are you here. In this place. Right now. Why did you come?”

  “Oh.” He walked into the room and sat down tentatively in the chair under the window, rocking a bit to test whether it would hold his weight. It was probably a wise precaution when using furniture that kept disappearing and appearing again.

  “There are too many stairs for a man my age,” he began with a smile, which made him seem a little less nervous than before. “I used to keep a tavern, you know. It was a terrible place. You’d have hated it. I hated it. The floor was always dirty, and the people were always fighting. But I didn’t know what else to do. My people have been hiding from the world for years. When they find out who we are and what we can do, they are not always kind. I’ve seen…” He swallowed and ducked his head. “Terrible things, Miss Zara. So I kept my head down and tried to make a living. Until Alexei came.” His expression became rather embarrassed. “You should know, he is not as bad as he seems. He carries so many sorrows, plus the weight of his people’s future, and finding you here…”

  “Crushed his soul and disappointed all his hopes?” Zara allowed her sarcasm free rein.

  “It is not an excuse, I know. When he came to my tavern, he was so grim and distant, so determined to pretend he didn’t care, but all I could see was that here was a man who could help us. Who might be able to give hope to those of us who are left. We have had none for so many years, I couldn’t help but follow him here, to see if I was wrong.”

  “And now?”

  “I don’t know,” Gulver said, his mustache drooping. “I know he still wants to make things right, but… I think he’s lost. And I know that unless we find the Rose, there is very little we can do. That is why we need you.”

  “I can’t find it,” Zara protested. “I’ve been trying. For days. But I can’t feel it and even Athven can’t help me.”

  “Please just come and talk,” Gulver pleaded. “We have to try.”

  Against her better judgment, Zara followed him down the tower and back to the kitchens, where two fires roared and Malichai presided over an enormous pot of something that smelled delicious.

  When he saw her, Malichai put down his spoon, crossed the kitchen in five or six enormous strides and actually hugged her before she could react. “We were all wondering whether you might have frozen last night, off somewhere in this cold, drafty place,” he scolded, smiling despite the censure in his tone. “Come and sit and have some breakfast.”

  A little stunned, Zara rubbed her ribs carefully and glanced around at the others before moving towards the table. Wilder waved from where she sprawled before the fire, drawing on the floor with a piece of charcoal. Silvay gestured to the place next to her, and Gulver sat down across from them, beaming at her as if to prove that she was not entirely unwelcome. Alexei sat at the head of the table and did not look at Zara at all.

  After Zara took her place, Silvay reached out and squeezed her hand. “I am very sorry,” she said softly, though she didn’t look at all surprised. Perhaps seers never did. “You are welcome here, you know.”

  “No, I don’t know,” Zara replied. “But thank you for saying so. Now what would you all like to discuss?”

  She could feel her face burn as Alexei lifted his head to look at her, and though he wore no particular expression of disgust or censure, she was convinced his one-eyed gaze went straight through her and found her wanting.

  Not surprising really. She’d been forever without a bath, and hadn’t bothered to re-braid her hair in days. And those were probably the least of her transgressions in his eyes.

  “Tell us what you know about the Rose,” he demanded.

  “Say please,” she shot back. She hadn’t really thought about it, the words just slipped out.

  “Please.”

  Zara raised a cynical brow. So he did know how to control his temper.

  “Not much,” she conceded. “You’ve mentioned it numerous times and I’ve gathered it is used in defense of the castle. Probably a magical item, and small, considering that it has been hidden. The traitor you brought with you was responsible for stealing and hiding it and you are worried that he may find it before you do.”

  “Accurate enough,” Alexei allowed. “It is against my better judgment to share this with you, but we can no longer afford caution. Our need is great and our time is short so I am choosing to trust that Athven herself can prevent catastrophe if you prove untrustworthy.”

  “I’m overwhelmed by your compliments,” Zara replied, showing all her teeth in a fake smile.

  “You should be. They’re probably kinder than you deserve.”

  “I’m sure no one will ever accuse you of the heinous crime of kindness.”

  Malichai’s booming laugh startled them all. “This is as good as a play,” he observed happily, as he set a full bowl in front of each of them.
“And Miss Zara, I’ve finally realized who you are, so verse seven will be completed soon.”

  “Well, I won’t be the swooning maiden waiting to be rescued, so you can just take it back now if that’s what you think,” she informed him.

  “Why not?” Alexei asked, eyes on his bowl, his expression studiously bland. “You did swoon, after all. And you were waiting for someone to rescue you.”

  “Seems to me I’m not the one here who needs rescuing.”

  Alexei’s mouth had already opened on another retort when a low rumble filtered up through the stones, just before the floor began to shift under them. Wilder yelled and dashed for Silvay, who pulled them both into a crouch beside the table. Malichai growled and stared at the ceiling, while Gulver went white and hunched into himself.

  Zara and Alexei did not move, but locked eyes until the rumbling and swaying stopped.

  “I don’t know if you’ve realized this yet, but your enchanted castle is really nothing but a giant bully,” Zara announced into the ensuing silence. “I don’t know why you would think I have even the smallest desire to stay here. The minute that door opens, I am leaving and never coming back.”

  It hit Alexei finally that when he had said she didn’t understand, it was a gross understatement. And a bit of an injustice. How could she understand? She might have a wisp of magic, but no one had ever told her what to expect. What her bond with Athven truly meant.

  Yes, she had intruded in a place she didn’t belong, and that fault was hers alone, but he could not continue to judge her for what she didn’t know. He needed to make her see. It wasn’t going to go well, he was certain. He’d believed she had to have known the truth when she proposed marriage the night before, but perhaps he had misjudged that as well. The proposal simply didn’t make any sense the more he thought about it.

  Now she was standing, as though she meant to leave again. He needed to convince her to stop running away whenever they had a disagreement.

  “Please,” he said, as courteously as he could manage. “Sit. Eat. I think…” The words were hard to force out. “I may have been too hasty in my statements before. Further explanation might resolve at least a portion of the tension between us.”

  Her blue eyes widened. She glanced at his companions. “Is this a trick?” she demanded, as Silvay retook her seat.

  “I think not, and I concur with Alexei,” Silvay said pleasantly. “We are allies, after all. We should at least try to work out our differences whenever possible.”

  “Then I will listen,” Zara allowed, “but that doesn’t mean I will agree.”

  “Believe me, no one expects it of you,” Alexei returned dryly. When she shot him a glare, the corner of his mouth twitched. It had almost been a smile.

  “When you talk of leaving,” he began, “I am afraid you don’t grasp the nature of the bond you and Athven share. It isn’t simply you being bound to her as a servant, to do her bidding. It is a two-way bond, giving and taking, and you share as much with her as she shares with you. I believe it is a weak bond, considering the limitations of your magic, and the fact that neither of you knew what you were doing, but given that Athven has been able to sustain an avatar and restore some of what she has held in stasis all these years, it is a true bond as well.”

  “Yes,” Zara agreed impatiently. “She told me that much. She said if I left, she would die. That it is our bond that makes it possible for her to do what she does. Like rattle the floor and scare us half to death.” She shot a glare at the ceiling.

  “Then…” Alexei was stunned by this revelation. “If you know, how can you still threaten to leave? You would sentence her to death!”

  “I realize you think I’m a monster,” Zara snapped, “but can you accept that I may not be quite as bad as you imagine? I would not leave until I transfer the bond to another. That’s why…” She fell silent and blushed furiously. “That’s why I said what I did last night. Athven told me it was the only way. That if I married, the bond could be transferred and I could be free. But I had to marry someone with magic. An Erathi. Or it wouldn’t work.”

  Alexei stared at her, momentarily shocked speechless. She had to be lying. Had to be trying to convince him to marry her by whatever means possible. If she didn’t know his heritage, if she didn’t think he could make her a queen, why would she have proposed to tie herself to a hideously scarred stranger who didn’t even like her? Surely a treasure hunter would never purposefully leave behind the greatest treasure of them all.

  She couldn’t be telling the truth. Because that would mean…

  “She’s telling the truth.”

  Alexei looked blankly at Wilder. Who was looking back with a solemn expression far beyond her years.

  “I know you don’t want to believe her, but she’s not lying. Auras change when people lie. Hers stayed the same. She still has thorns, and—”

  “Thank you, Wilder.” Silvay interrupted the girl with a beaming smile.

  Alexei shot her a glance of deep suspicion. Thorns were hardly surprising for a person as prickly as Zara, but the girl had been about to say something more—something Silvay already knew and didn’t want her to reveal. Which probably meant it was important. Not as important, however, as what he had just learned about Athven.

  She could lie. He had never considered it possible, but if Zara was telling the truth, Athven had lied to her. Probably more than once. The avatar may have simply used misleading language, but either way, it had to have been deliberate, and the realization made Alexei feel like a worm. Or worse. Zara had been manipulated by a creature far older and more experienced than she, and Alexei had been grossly unfair.

  He would not—could not—like her. She was still a thief. One who had, inadvertently perhaps, stolen far more than she would ever know. But, he could almost admit that it might not be entirely her fault. Perhaps if he remembered that, he could bury his anger deeply enough to work with her until this was resolved.

  “I am… sorry,” he said at length, and every head in the kitchen turned to look at him. “Yes,” he confirmed, trying not to grimace, “you heard me correctly. I am sorry. I thought…” He didn’t quite have the nerve to admit what he’d thought.

  “You thought I was a mercenary who saw a chance at a bigger prize and went for it,” Zara said flatly. “You thought I wanted to marry you because it would give me some sort of position. A name, to pull me up from the disgrace of my heritage and my profession.”

  “Yes.”

  “And what do you think now?”

  Her blue eyes met his, cool and level.

  “I think you were lied to.”

  She did not flinch. “What’s the worst of it?”

  “Your bond… Your bond with Athven might be described as similar to that of marriage, at least for an Erathi. When we marry…” He paused. Looked for an easier way to say it. “You say that you know the connection goes both ways, but it is not only Athven who would die if you left Erath.”

  He saw her absorb this and blanch.

  “When Athven spoke of transferring the bond, if that is the word she used, she misled you. The bond can be expanded, to include another, but the process does not technically require marriage. And whether the bond is between two or three, your own connection with Athven cannot be broken without resulting in death. If Athven is strong enough, she will survive, but you…”

  He could see her begin to tremble. Her eyes went wide, but no tears fell.

  “And when you say the marriage bond is the same…” The firmness of her voice belied the anguish on her face.

  “Yes,” Alexei said softly. “The bond between Athven and her guardians is usually an intimate one. She is able to speak to them mind to mind, and anyone added to your bond would be able to do so as well. The relationship would not be one you would care to share with a stranger. But if you were to marry that person, in the Erathi sense, the two of you would be bound to each other as tightly as you and Athven are now. You could not be separated for long, and not
by very far. It is a lifelong partnership that cannot be dissolved, and partners are known to follow one another into death.”

  As difficult as it was to admit, Alexei found that he admired Zara’s courage in that moment. She sat alone in a room full of strangers, and she may have blinked back tears as she absorbed what he had to say, but she did not break. Her breath hitched, but only for a moment, and when her eyes finally cleared, Alexei could read nothing—not fear, not anger, not hatred.

  “I see,” she said slowly. “Then perhaps you will acquit me of whatever crimes you believe I have committed, considering how dearly I will be paying for them.” She straightened in her seat and lifted her chin. “And now we’d better set about finding this rose, hadn’t we?”

  “Yes.” It wasn’t over. The pain would come later, but for now, Alexei had enough tact to leave behind the subject of bonds and forever. “We have searched, but I am hoping your relationship with Athven may give you an advantage. The item we are looking for is a piece of pink baryte crystal, somewhat larger than a man’s head. It might appear flower-like, but it is solid and in its natural form.”

  “I can assure you right off that I haven’t seen it,” Zara told them. “Until you came, there was nothing here but the stones and the kitchen stores, and what few items I brought with me. It wasn’t until yesterday that other things began to appear. I suppose it’s possible the Rose has appeared somewhere as well.”

  Alexei shook his head. “The things that are appearing are original furnishings, objects that I believe Athven has held in a sort of magical stasis while she awaited our return. They were merely hidden from sight. The Rose was concealed before Athven’s retreat. I doubt that it is simply lying about somewhere to be seen.”