[fan] diviners trilogy - complete series

by Nicolette Andrews

  I turned to face the crowd once more as she was escorted off the stage in tears. “Lords and ladies, the veil has closed, and with it, I must end our time together and bid you all a fair night.”

  I bowed, extending my arm, as I recalled Adair doing so often, and glided off the stage. In the wings, I felt as if I would tumble off of my feet. Elenna caught me, however, and I managed to remain standing.

  “You have a knack for dramatics,” she said.

  I shook my head. “It was luck.”

  “You read them all right. You have a knack for seeing inside people’s hearts.”

  I lowered my gaze. She could not know what memories those words stirred. Adair had once complimented me that way. Maybe it had been no more than shameless flattery. However, now that I did not have all their eyes on me, the thrill was leaving me, and I shook and felt too weak to stand.

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  There was no further time for idle talk. The play proper had begun, and the players filed onto the stage, and I was expected to wait in the antechamber. I headed in that direction before diverting and going down a long hallway. I was fortunate that servants were not about. Perhaps they were helping attend to the duke’s guests; regardless it was a stroke of good fortune. Though I was weary, I pushed myself to hurry. I started by trying different doors. The ones that were unlocked were linen cabinets or unimportant-looking guest rooms stripped bare of linens until guests were to arrive.

  I kept an ear cocked for sounds and tried to keep my movements precise. I had only until the play ended before I would be expected back. I would need to return to the antechamber lest I be caught spying. I was trying a locked door when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stiffened and turned slowly as I held my breath. Beau nodded his head towards the hallway behind him, and I saw a body lying on the ground.

  I exhaled deeply and then scolded him. “Do not do that. I almost jumped out of my skin,” I whispered.

  “I found his study,” he said.

  My heart rate jumped. I had not planned on his assistance, but I had to admit it made the task much simpler. “Show me.”

  We headed down the opposite end of the hall and again we were lucky to come across none of the servants. After seeing that prone body, I wondered if Beau had anything to do with it. Eventually we arrived at the double doors at the end of the long hall. We were on the opposite side of the plaza, and I could no longer hear the sounds of Jon’s fete. I took the doorknob with shaking hands. It turned without resistance.

  “It’s unlocked,” I commented to Beau. “Perhaps he trusts his servants?”

  Beau answered me by unsheathing his sword, which rang out in the stillness of the night. I opened the door. The chamber was dark, and beyond the blackness I saw the shape of a desk. I headed straight for it, and Beau was at my heels. I opened a few drawers, looking for a parchment or anything that coincided with my theories. I found nothing but parchment, quills and a bit of sand with which to dry ink. On the tabletop, the duke’s seal rested. I picked it up and rolled it around in my palm and let my gaze slidever the room. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and at the far end of the room, a large stone fireplace lay unlit. I could search through the books, but there were too many to go through. I needed more time.

  “Maybe he does not use this room. He did not appear to be a studious man,” I said.

  Beau did not respond. He was overturning vases and pulling out random books. I joined him along the bookshelf, and as I was running my hands along the numerous tomes that lined the wall, a gust of air brushed against my cheek. I stopped and looked at a crack in between two vertical pieces of wood on the shelf. I glanced at the other shelves; none had this crack. It ran up and down from floor to ceiling.

  On a whim, I pulled on it. It wiggled a bit, and with another tug, it swung open and revealed a dark passageway. Beau came over to investigate.

  “A secret passage?” I said.

  “The walls are covered in dust and cobwebs. I doubt it has been in recent use. It’s nothing of our concern.”

  I closed the hidden door and turned back around. There was a chair by the fire, and stuffed between the arm and the cushion, a scrap of paper was poking out. I hurried over and plucked it out. I unfolded the parchment and moved closer to the fire to read. At first glance it was innocuous. The writer had asked Jon of his health and the weather in Neaux. Something about the neat even scrawl seemed familiar, and while I was puzzling over it, Beau had taken out the drawer in the desk and dumped the contents on the desktop. The quills and parchment clattered on the polished wood and drew me away from my reading.

  I craned my neck, fearing someone may have heard the commotion, but no one came to stop us. I looked down at the letter once more and skimmed to the signature and gasped. I clamped a hand over my mouth.

  “Did you find something?” Beau asked. He had a dagger and was prying at the bottom of the drawer.

  “No, I just thought I heard something,” I lied and shoved the letter into my bodice while Beau’s attention was focused on the drawer. “What are you doing?”

  “This has a false bottom, the inside is too shallow.” He wriggled his dagger under a small seam, and then it popped, and a hinge revealed the real bottom of the drawer.

  He set it down on the table and pulled out several correspondences, all with a blue seal of a circled tree, the Order of the Oak. I picked up a letter, if it could be called such. There were no salutations, just a few hastily written lines that read:

  In Sanore, look for the count of Dumore, and give him the enclosed letter.

  The letter was not with it, and I could only assume it had already been delivered. I sifted through a few more letters. All of them had similar encrypted messages, nothing that proved what Jon, Adair and the Order were planning. A cry rang out from down the hall, and Beau lifted his head and looked towards the door. Someone had discovered the unconscious man. They sounded close by, we couldn’t go back the way we had come or we might be spotted.

  “We should take the letters and flee through the secret passage,” I whispered.

  “No, if we take anything, he will know and grow suspicious.”

  I bit my lip. He was right, but this was the best proof I had. Even if it made no sense to me, perhaps it would to someone else. But who? I hated to do it, but Beau was right. I tossed the letters back into the drawer as quickly and neatly as I could. Beau closed the lid, and we slid the drawer’s contents back on top. Jon was sure to notice the disarray in his drawer, but we did not have time for much else.

  We slid over to the secret passageway. Beau opened it, and I ran into the darkness. It was pitch black, and I had to feel my way along the wall. Beau closed the secret door from the inside, and the darkness only seemed to deepen. We hurried down uneven stairs as fast as we dared, and I got tangled up in spider webs on more than one occasion. The descent ended, and I was surprised to find level ground. I stumbled but prevented a fall by throwing my arms out. A short distance away was a door. I could see light spilling out through a crack on the floor.

  Beau went in front of me and approached the door. I hung back, waiting. I could not see much but a faint silhouette as he drew farther away from me. After a few minutes, he pushed the door open a crack and peered outside. He waved to me, and we emerged in a brightly lit storeroom. Links of cured sausages hung from hooks in the ceiling, and sacks of grain were piled on the floor. The ‘door’ we had come through was lined with shelves, which hosted some cheese and bread.

  We crept out into a kitchen. A scullery maid was scrubbing a large iron pot and shrieked when she saw us. Beau ran over and clamped a hand over her mouth.

  “Do not say what you saw here.” He pressed a gold coin into her hand. “Do you understand?”

  She nodded, eyes wide.

  We slipped out of the kitchen and into the hall beside the room where the players’ things were waiting. I went inside, and Beau waited outside. Once I was back, I heaved a sigh of relief. I went over to a corner of th
e room by a pile of discarded costumes. I wiped the dust off my gown and pulled some cobwebs that had gotten caught in my hair, lest someone realize where I had been. On the other side of the wall, I heard the excited voices of Jon’s guests. If I had done everything right, he would never suspect that I had been here at all.

  I peered at the door. Beau was still outside, playing sentinel. I reached into my bodice and removed the letter I had stolen. Perhaps Jon would not notice such an unimportant letter had gone missing. The writer was what drew me to it, and I stared at the signature and the seal pressed with wax. Just above it, I read the final lines of the letter.

  ‘Do not forget your promise to me, Jon. I am counting on you to find out more about Sarelle.’

  Signed by Sabine, Queen of Danhad.

  Chapter Six

  I dreamed of Sabine. She lay on a bed draped in heavy crimson curtains gathered along the bedposts. She was reclining, propped up by pillows, and a sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. Beneath the blankets red as blood was the swell of her pregnant belly. She moaned and clutched at the blankets, tearing them with her ferocity. She leaned forward, and her knees drew in to her stomach. I stood at the foot of the bed, watching. The magiker was there with her, leaning on a bedpost and barking orders at flustered servants.

  “I cannot do this,” Sabine groaned and collapsed back on the bed, panting.

  “You will if you want this child born alive,” the magiker snapped at her.

  Sabine glared at him. Her curls were damp with sweat and clung to her forehead.

  “Ester,” Sabine called, and Duchess Magdale came to her bedside. The duchess’ face was pale as milk, and she held her hands up as if she did not know what to do with them. “I need you—” Sabine did not finish her sentence because she was howling in pain.

  “The pains are closer together now. It will not be much longer,” the magiker said to no one in particular. “You, girl, hold the queen’s hand.” He pointed at Duchess Magdale.

  Duchess Magdale sat down hesitantly on the edge of Sabine’s bed. Sabine grabbed her hand in a vice-like grip, and the duchess winced with pain.

  Sabine shouted as another contraction rippled through her.

  “It’s time. Hold her legs,” the magiker said and waved over a pair of servants.

  One had blankets, the other a basin of water. They dropped their burdens and came forward. Each one took one of Sabine’s legs. I went and stood by her head, watching with an odd sense of detachment. It has been only two months since I left Keisan. This must be a vision of the future.

  Sabine pushed when the magiker instructed and rested when she was able. I was not sure how much time elapsed; it was hard to tell in the dream space. After much pushing and resting, Sabine gave one final push and screamed before falling onto the bed.

  A baby wailed, and Sabine lifted her head to look at the child.

  “A boy, Your Majesty,” the magiker announced.

  He cut the cord and then brought the child to her, wrapped loosely in swaddling. Sabine stroked his red face and brushed back his shock of black hair.

  “He’s beautiful, isn’t he, Maea?”

  Her head lolled in my direction, and she offered the child up to me. I took him with some hesitance. I held him in the crook of my arm. His face was covered, and I pulled aside the blankets. On top of his small head was a crown of silver and gold split down the middle. The silver side was inset with sapphires, and the gold with rubies.

  “On the day the moon swallows the sun, the child of two crowns shall be unleashed to the destruction of man. Enemies, wedded and intent on a common foe, will stand no chance against his might. All shall fall, all shall perish, if the daughter of the blood does not smite the moon’s child.”

  I turned to face the speaker, the babe still in my arms. Elenna was standing there, wearing a long, white, flowing gown. She tilted her head and regarded me.

  “The answer lies within your grasp,” she said.

  “What do you mean, the answer is within my grasp? You know how to save him. Why will you not tell me?”

  “He is coming. Run!”

  She disappeared, as did Sabine’s son. I was standing at the end of a long hallway. A figure silhouetted at the other end came towards me. His footsteps echoed off the walls and rang through me. Johai came into view and regarded me with a wicked gleam in his eye.

  “You know what you must do, Maea.” He took a step towards me, and I took a step back. I ran down the hall and out a door. I exited into the garden, and through the bushes and over flower beds, I fled. Wind was whipping through my hair, and I stopped at the cliff side. Johai approached me at a relaxed pace. “Who shall it be, you or me?”

  “I cannot,” I said, but the wind seemed to steal the words from my mouth.

  He took another step towards me, and I backed up but found no cliff left. I looked over the edge, the sheer height making me dizzy. When I turned back, Johai was upon me. He pushed me, and I fell from the cliff face. I flailed, my arms making a desperate grab along the crumbling rock face, but the stones slipped through my fingers, and I fell. The ground drew closer with every second. I closed my eyes just before the impact, my hands thrown up to protect myself.

  I woke on a lumpy mattress in an inn room. It was still the dead of night, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust and my heart to stop racing. A dream, nothing more, I told myself. I was lying to myself; such a vivid dream was not without meaning. I rolled over onto my side and saw Johai sitting up and leaning against the wall just beneath the window. Small cracks of light, from the moon outside, slid through the shutters and illuminated parts of his face, leaving others in shadow. The result made his eye sockets appear sunken and ghostly, and his face too pale.

  I swallowed my fear and said, “Johai, are you awake?”

  He turned his head towards me, and the light illuminated him from the back, and his face was cast in shadow, destroying the mask-like visage.

  “Yes,” he said, “is something wrong?”

  “No,” I said and sat up and tucked my knees underneath me. I paused and then said, “I had a dream about Sabine and her child.”

  He did not respond right away. The floorboards creaked as he got to his feet, and his tread was light as he crossed the room and lit a candle on the table. His bedding on the floor was untouched, and I realized he had not slept at all.

  “Was it a prophetic dream?” he asked at last and came to take a seat on the cot beside me.

  I wrapped my arms around my torso, and in the dim candlelight I found it hard to look at him. My dream was too fresh in my mind.

  “I believe so,” I said.

  “Do you want to share?” he prompted.

  I shook my head. It will not change anything, I wanted to say. It is more of the same. Is there really no way to save Johai?

  “I found a merchant who is willing to hire me on as a steward. He has a room for us, and Beau can work as one of his swords for hire, if you are planning on staying in the city longer.”

  I whipped my head towards him, and my eyes widened. “We decided we would try to leave after Jon’s fete.”

  “True, however, you did not discover what Adair is planning to do here, did you?”

  I looked down at my hands folded on my lap. I had not told Johai or Beau about Sabine’s letter to Jon. The betrayal cut too deep for me to share. Did Sabine, too, deceive me? Did she play a role in Sarelle’s death? What had Jon promised her?

  “No, all I know for certain is he is doing something for the Order, nothing more.”

  “You want to know what Adair plans and stop him, do you not?” Johai asked.

  I peered up at him and furrowed my brows. He knew I did; it was almost as important to me as saving him. I could not forgive Adair for his betrayal. Just as I could not sit by and let him bring about the destruction of both our kingdoms with his ambition.

  “Saving you is my first priority,” I said in a lame attempt at defending myself.

  “You cannot ke
ep lying to yourself, Maea. There very well may not be a way…”

  I shook my head, and my loose hair swung around me. “I cannot believe that.”

  He grabbed my face with both his hands and forced me to face him. “You know it is true. You prophesized it. The truth is right here… I am doomed.”

  Tears stung the back of my lids. It was a bitter truth that I had been avoiding facing, but Johai would not let me look away.

  “We have an opportunity here to do some good. Adair needs to be stopped, and you have the tenacity to stop him.”

  I nodded and wiped away my tears with the back of my hand.

  “I promised you that I would be with you until the end, and I will, but you must promise me when the time comes, you will do what needs to be done,” Johai implored me.

  As much as I wanted to deny his request, I could not. The truth had been lurking at the back of my mind for some time now, yet I refused to face it. I was a coward.

  I sniffled and lowered my lashes. “You know I am more mulish than that.”

  He let his hands fall to his side, and he sighed. “Maea, you would have been better to never have met me.”

  Would I? I wanted to ask. I remembered little of my past before Johai took me off the streets, but from what I did remember, I did not think I would have lived a better life. After my mother killed herself, I was alone, a child fending for myself on the streets. I would most likely have been dead if he had not taken me as he did.

  Before, I would have rebuked him and reminded him of the kindnesses he paid me. Now I felt there was no use for such things. It felt in many ways that we had reached a dead end. I would root out Adair’s plots in Sanore and then what? We had talked of going to Jerauch, but Johai had closed that door. He did not want us to risk anything else for him. For Johai, the road ended for him in Sanore. How can I kill him? I thought. When would I kill him? I peered at him from the corner of my eye. Should I take the dagger and slit his throat? Is that what the first diviner would want of me?