by N. C. Hayes
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I was in darkness, my feet bare and cold.
In the distance, a light. A doorway. I walked forward and looked in on a room filled with desks and tables covered in papers and books. A man with long auburn hair in a low ponytail was sitting at one of the desks, his head propped on his fist while he read from one of the open books before him. After a moment, he shoved the book away and put his head in his hands. He sat up and took a deep breath. His lips moved but I could not hear him, and he held his hand out before him.
A white cloud started to form, floating inches above his palm.
Fascinated, I stepped forward and slowly the cloud turned gray, then black. Lightning flashed within it, and then, though I couldn’t hear it, I felt the vibration of thunder shake the room, shake the blackness beneath my feet. Was there even a floor beneath me? When I glanced down to check, I couldn’t tell. I looked back up.
The man stared directly into my eyes. I gasped, and felt my body begin to fall.
When I landed, my eyes opened. I was in a bed, in a room I didn’t recognize, sitting up straight. I began to cry. In the corner, a strange woman stood from her chair and approached me. “My lady, I’m a healer. My name is Jemma—”
“No,” I cried, scrambling away and tearing the blankets from my lap. I stood and immediately my legs gave out, sending me crashing to the floor. The woman reached for me but I slapped her hand away. “No!” I crawled backward until I hit the bedside table and I hurled the first thing my fingers grasped—a book—at the woman’s face. “Get away—”
The door opened and Kenna swept into the room. I panted as she helped the healer stand and then looked at me, searching for something. Her brow furrowed, and she didn’t take her eyes off me as she called out, “Gerridan!” My body ached and didn’t feel wholly mine. I struggled to breathe and could feel that my heart was beating much too quickly. The nightdress I wore was so soaked with sweat that I could nearly see through it.
Gerridan appeared and crouched in front of me before taking my face in his hands and looking into my eyes. His fingers made small circles at my temples. He held my gaze, taking deep, slow breaths, then released my face to take my hands, without breaking eye contact.
My breathing slowed. I blinked a few times, adjusting my eyes. The room became clearer, and my heart settled into a normal rhythm. Kenna murmured something to the healer, Jemma, who then left the room. Gerridan scooped me into his arms and laid me back down onto the bed.
“Thank you,” I rasped as he pulled the blanket over me. My throat felt like I had swallowed glass. “What did you do?”
“You aren’t the only one with extra gifts.” He half smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I can calm people down, remove fear, that sort of thing.”
“What happened to me?” My voice was almost a whisper. “Why aren’t I in my room?”
“We were hoping you could tell us,” Kenna replied. “I can’t see anything that happened in that room. All we know is that Elise came running, saying there was something wrong. Your door was locked, and she could hear a man’s voice, and you yelling for him to leave.”
“Alastair and Aydan broke the door down,” Gerridan continued. “The captain pulled a knife on Al. They fought. The captain was injured, but he’ll heal. Aydan said the room was filled with smoke and you looked dead. Your face was covered in blood, and you were unconscious. He carried you back here and brought in the healers to stabilize you.” I touched my face, then hissed at the sharp pain.
“How long have I been here?”
“It’s been three days,” Kenna said. “Whatever you did, it was an enormous drain on your power. We thought we lost you a couple of times—”
“You’re awake,” said a soft voice from the doorway. I looked and saw Aydan, who appeared fatigued. He looked me over. “How do you feel?”
“Awful,” I replied honestly, and winced as I shifted to sit up straight. “My face burns.”
“Jemma is working on some sort of salve that may help,” Aydan said. “None of the normal remedies are working.”
“Why?”
“The cut was made with silver.” Gerridan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bundled handkerchief. He unfolded it, revealing a ring I recognized as Stefan’s. He held the ring closer to me, careful to keep his fingers covered by the cloth. I peered closely at the loop and saw a metal spike, like a small thorn, protruding from it. “This type of weapon is banned in Medeisia. They’re circulated among the mortal rebels. They put a gold coating on them so sorcerers don’t notice, but the spike is exposed silver.” He folded the ring back into the cloth and returned it to his pocket.
I stared at my lap. “Has a . . . sentence been carried out?”
“I haven’t decided yet what that will be,” said Aydan. “Until we knew you would survive, we didn’t know yet what his crimes were limited to. I also wanted to offer you final say on his sentence, as is your right.”
“What were you thinking?” Weighing in on sentencing criminals was not a task that I had prepared for.
“When he is well enough to travel, banishment seems appropriate.”
“Is he so badly injured that he cannot travel?” I asked. Aydan appeared hesitant to answer. I looked to Kenna, who was giving Gerridan a sidelong glance. “Stop that,” I hissed. “Stop coddling me. No more secrets.” I met Aydan’s gaze. “If I’m to be your advisor—if I’m to be of any use to this court—then I need honesty. Complete honesty.”
To my surprise, Aydan did not object. “I’m afraid the captain’s condition is best understood when seen,” he said. “You have my word that as soon as you’re feeling stronger, I will take you to see him myself if you wish.”
I folded the blankets back and moved to stand, but Gerridan placed a hand on mine. “You need rest, Shaye.” Kenna shooed him away and offered me a hand to help me out of bed.
“Let the lady decide how she feels.”
“I’ll need help dressing,” I murmured. My muscles were screaming. Without a word, Kenna motioned for Aydan and Gerridan to leave the room. They obliged, and she shut the door behind them before walking to the wardrobe and pulling out one of my dresses. Confused, I said, “That’s mine.”
“This is your new room,” she said. “Your suite isn’t usable anymore. The servants moved your things here yesterday.” Flashes of memory played in my mind—the utter destruction pouring from my body, demolishing everything in the room. I stood gripping the post at the foot of the bed for balance while Kenna helped me out of the nightdress. She did not gasp or otherwise indicate that she saw what was impossible not to notice covering the entirety of my back. She merely pulled the new dress over my head and began lacing up the back, leaving it loose. I was grateful that she did not ask questions.
I held Kenna’s arm as we entered the foyer, where Aydan waited with Gerridan and Hannele. She hugged me briefly.
“It’s good to see you on two feet,” she said in my ear. I smiled even as I winced at the touch. When she pulled away, I looked over her shoulder at Aydan.
“I’m ready.” He nodded and offered an arm. I took it, grateful for the stability, and he led me to a spot on the wall in the foyer where he pressed, opening a hidden door that revealed a tunnel lit by orbs of light.
“This might be less taxing than effuging for now,” he explained, guiding us forward. We walked in silence until we reached a dead end, where Aydan once again pressed into the wall. We stepped into a corridor; on one end was a group of four guards blocking off the passage to anyone who might try to enter, and on the other was a door with two guards in front of it, listening as Alastair gave them instructions. The Lord General looked up at the sound of the secret door and frowned. He excused himself and approached us.
“Are you serious?”
“Lady Shaye would like to observe our prisoner.”
“I really don’t think—”
“Open the door, general.” Alastair stiffened, but he obeyed the command
anyway, leading us to the door and pulling a key from his belt. I let go of Aydan’s arm.
“I’d like to go in alone,” I said. The king’s hand clenched, then opened again.
“Alastair will wait in the doorway,” he said, “and I’ll wait for you here.” I nodded. Alastair pushed the door open and stepped aside to let me through.
The room was a disaster.
It was a generous choice for a holding cell, the other option being a dungeon. But being a lord of the king’s court had perks, even when one stood accused of attacking the Chief Advisor and Lord General. However, though the room had once held a plush bed, a desk, even a wardrobe, it was all demolished now. The linens were shredded, clothes strewn about, and the wooden frame of the bed was cracked, with an entire leg splintered in half that sent the whole thing off-kilter.
There was only one clear path in the whole room, where Stefan now paced, disheveled and muttering to himself. “Stefan?” I called out softly. He kept pacing, chewing on his fingers. “Stef,” I said, louder this time. He looked up.
“Oh, Shaye, there you are. Hello. Have you been waiting long? I didn’t hear you over all the noise.” The room was silent. I took a step forward.
“Are you all right? Do you remember what happened?”
“I think so.” He frowned. “I’m not sure. We were talking, and then . . . and then I woke up here. You got hurt—did you get hurt? I don’t . . .”
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Do you remember what we were talking about?” Stefan ran a hand through his hair, which was stringy and greasy, and he frowned deeper, thinking. He looked like he hadn’t slept or bathed or even eaten in the time that he’d been here. The discarded trays of untouched food on the desk confirmed as much.
“The king,” Stefan said finally. “And the prince. And her—we were talking about her. Or—to her. She—she told me. When the king was dead, he told me—she said . . . yes, it was her. I can see her, but—but I can’t see her. She’s right there and I can see her and she’s right next to me and I can see . . .” He started muttering again, restless.
“Stefan, what are you talking about? Me? Who is she?”
His attention snapped to me again.
“It’s her, Shaye. She’s right there and I can’t see her but she’s right next to me and her face is right there but I can’t see her and she—she’s RIGHT THERE SHE’S RIGHT THERE BUT I CAN’T SEE HER—” I watched in horror as Stefan crumpled to the ground, curled himself around his legs, and began to weep. “I can’t see her I can’t see her I can’t see her . . .” A hand rested on my shoulder and I jumped. Alastair was behind me.
“We should go now, Shaye.” He guided me out to where Aydan waited with a grim expression. My vision blurred.
“Shaye . . .” I swayed, my knees buckling underneath me, and I would have hit the floor if Aydan had not caught my arm.
“I’d like to go back to my room now,” I said softly. I took a step and lost my balance again.
“May I help?” Aydan asked. I was too tired to do anything but nod, so he scooped me into his arms and walked back through the hidden tunnel. He carried me in silence while I lay my head against his chest and drifted in and out of sleep, and when we reached the bedroom, he laid me down and covered me with a blanket. I was drifting again when I felt his hand press gently against my hair. Maybe it was a dream.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I spent the next two days in and out of sleep, only waking to sip on the herbed broth Jemma had prescribed. On the third day, I woke from a nap to find a leather-bound book on my bedside table, wrapped with a green ribbon, and a note attached that read:
Something to help pass the time. Get well soon.
Fondly,
–A
It was a new copy of Enchanted, Enchanting. My books had all been destroyed along with the furniture. My only belongings that had survived were my clothing shut in the wardrobe and Catchfly, who remained completely unscathed. She’d quickly grown bored of watching me sleep all day in our new room, demanded to be let out, and was now making herself at home elsewhere in the king’s chambers. I ran my fingers over the fine leather cover before cracking the book open and smiling to myself as I began to read the first chapter.
Two more days passed by in this way before I decided that I had to get up.
I dressed myself easily, to my own surprise, and walked without difficulty across the empty dwelling to the other end of the king’s chambers, where I found my friends eating lunch and talking amongst themselves. Aydan was slouched in his seat, picking at his food. It was Hannele who saw me first.
“Shaye, you’re up,” she said. Aydan straightened.
“I am. I thought I might join you, if that’s all right.”
“Of course it is,” Aydan said quickly. He gestured to the empty chair next to Alastair. A plate piled with steaming chicken, buttery potatoes, and roasted vegetables appeared in front of it.
“Thank you,” I said as I sat. Their plates were nearly empty, but no one moved to excuse themselves. I felt Aydan and Alastair watching me. Gerridan’s eyes were on Hannele as she bickered with Kenna about a dress Kenna wanted to borrow. After a few minutes, I turned to Gerridan and asked, “Does your offer still stand?”
“I’ve made you many offers, my lady. To which do you refer?” He winked.
“I’m already regretting getting out of bed.” I sighed. He laughed. “You offered to train me. To fight. I want to start as soon as possible. Today, if we can.”
Interested, Gerridan leaned back in his chair. “Do you feel up for it?”
I nodded. “I never want to feel this weak again. If I can, like you said, help understand my body’s limitations, protect myself, protect others—I want to do that. Even train for combat if you’re willing to teach me.”
“Well, I can certainly teach you self-defense. But as far as combat training . . .” He jerked his chin toward Alastair. “He’s the one you’ll want.” The Lord General and I locked eyes.
“Can you teach me?”
He looked thoughtful. “Start with Gerridan this afternoon. I have meetings today. Tomorrow, you can join me. I train at sunrise.”
“Thank you.” I inclined my head before turning my attention to Aydan. “I suppose if I’m training with them, I should return to my studies with you as well,” I said. “If you’re willing.”
“I am,” he replied with a contented look on his face.
“I’m afraid I’ve been in that room so long that I’m unsure of your schedule.”
“We’ll make time after dinner, if you feel up to it after handing Gerridan his ass.” Aydan smiled and reached for a glass of water. The man in question looked offended, while Kenna and Hannele broke into fits of laughter. I nodded, silently thanking Aydan, before returning to my food.
~
“If you stand like that your opponent is going to knock you on your ass.” I glared at Gerridan and adjusted my feet for the fifth time.
We’d been out here for two hours. After lunch, Hannele had offered to loan me a set of training leathers and boots, which she then had to show me how to get into. The jacket was laced over the top of a padded shirt designed to absorb any blows I might fail to block, and was easy enough to figure out myself once I’d managed to stop fumbling with the laces. The trousers, with all their buckles and straps to fit the wearer and provide storage for extra weapons, were not like the simple linen things I had worn while gardening with Uncle Gideon as a child. They were snug. Hannele explained that this was so they wouldn’t catch on anything and an opponent couldn’t grab onto any loose fabric. This made sense, though I couldn’t help but feel exposed as I stood in the sparring ring, listening to Gerridan’s instruction.
When I’d entered the parlor room earlier to find him, Alastair and Aydan were there, looking over some documents spread out on a table while Kenna lounged on a sofa, reading. She glanced over from her book and looked me up and down with a low whistle.
“You look good in leather.
” She smirked.
“Thanks,” I replied, resisting the urge to cross my arms. Gerridan straightened from where he’d been leaning against the arm of a chair and squatted in front of me to tug a strap on one of my boots.
“Good. Ready?” he asked.
“Yes, just . . .” I looked at Aydan, who was watching us. “I need you to remove my blood shield. I don’t want Gerridan getting hurt if I fail to block him or something.” For a second, I thought he might argue or reveal some reason that he couldn’t do so, but instead, he stood and straightened his jacket before approaching me. Without a word, he placed his hands on either side of my face and pressed his lips to my forehead. Warmth shot from my toes, through my body, and out of the top of my head. I told myself that the fluttering in my chest was just part of the process.
In the sparring ring, Gerridan had been showing me how to escape from various holds, and the best spots to strike a person to weaken their grasp. He’d get me in position before grabbing me from behind, and it was my job to try and free myself. I had not succeeded yet.
“Can I just hit something, please?” I asked angrily as he threw me a canteen.
“No,” he replied once he’d swallowed. “You need this lesson first. Then blocking. Then sparring.” I started to protest, but he continued, “If you know how to escape but not how to fight, you can still survive an attack. If all you know is how to hit but not how to keep yourself from being injured—”
“Yeah, I get it,” I snapped. His eyebrows rose.
“No one’s forcing you to be here, Lady Advisor. You asked me for this lesson.”
