by K. C. May
The girls were already dressed and at the table eating when she got downstairs. “What are you three doing up so early?” she asked them.
“Jilly was hungry,” Iriel said. “So Miss Tennara got us some bread and jam.”
Feanna kissed the top of Jilly’s head. “Next time, wake me. The guards have jobs that don’t include cooking for guests of the inn.”
Jilly nodded.
“Is Trevick awake?”
They shook their heads.
“I’m going to the coffee shop. Would you rather stay here or come with me?”
“Come,” Tansa and Iriel said. The three girls climbed out of their chairs.
As they left the inn, Feanna let Tennara know where they were going in case Trevick awoke and inquired. Tennara offered to send a guard with her, but she declined. Though it was early, there would be plenty of people on the streets to intervene if someone tried to rob them. Besides, no one apart from the Sisters knew who she was.
The early spring morning was still cool enough that she felt perfectly comfortable with a light shawl around her shoulders as she walked briskly down the street while the girls skipped alongside her. The early risers were bustling about, hurrying to market to get the first selection of goods for the day.
The coffee shop had just opened when she arrived. The scent of ground beans and the shopkeeper’s hearty greeting welcomed her in. “I’m glad you came back, m’lady,” he said beneath a thick mustache. Behind the counter, he worked a grinding machine from which rich, dark ground beans trickled with every crank of the handle.
Feanna inhaled through her nose. “It smells wonderful. How many cups will a small bag make?”
“It depends on how strong you like it. Anywhere from twenty to fifty. I suggest one spoonful per cup. Have you ever made coffee before?”
Feanna shook her head. “I’ve never tasted it before yesterday.”
“It’s easy to do. You take a square of cotton, put your spoonful of ground beans in the center and wrap it into a ball. You can use a bit of string to tie it, if you’d like. Then boil the ball in a cup’s worth of water for a bit. When the water is deep brown, it’s ready to drink.”
He showed her several types of the beans, but she didn’t know one from another. Feanna paid for a small bag of the coffee she’d tried yesterday and started back toward the inn. She hoped Gavin would like the flavor. It might help him feel more spirited after his difficult night.
The canter of two horses approached from behind. It was still early, but it wasn’t prudent to run a horse in the city streets like this. “Girls, come close.” She pressed her back against a building and gathered her children close to avoid being run down.
“Miss Feanna! Thank Yrys I’ve found you.” It was Cirang, breathless and sweating. She held the reins of a second mount.
“Cirang, what’s the matter?” A deep sense of dread filled Feanna.
“Something’s happened at the inn. That man Lord Gavin was avoiding has found him. He commanded me to find you and take you to safety.”
Feanna’s mouth went dry. “Take the girls. I have to get Trevick.” She picked up her skirt and began to run toward the inn.
“He’s safe,” Cirang called. Feanna stopped, uncertain. “Tennara got him out. Please, Miss Feanna, come with me.”
Using a stepping stool in front of a merchant’s shop, Feanna managed to climb onto the back of Cirang’s second mount. Cirang lifted Jilly to her, who sat on the saddle in front. She put Tansa on the front of her own mount and Iriel on the back and squeezed herself between them. Once Iriel had a good hold around Cirang’s waist, they started at a slow trot, with Cirang holding the reins of both horses. She realized that at some point, she’d lost her shawl.
Cirang took them to a quiet neighborhood in which all the buildings had suffered damage from what must have been a terrible fire, as well as water damage from subsequent rains. A shiver of apprehension traveled down Feanna’s spine. The streets were empty. The houses were unoccupied. Except one.
A dark-haired man stepped out from a cottage less damaged than the others with his hands clasped before him. He smiled as they approached, but that smile didn’t reach his cold blue eyes. Feanna gasped. On the ground outside the cottage lay a headless body surrounded by a heavy spatter of blood. Feanna covered Jilly’s eyes and looked away in horror but not before she recognized the poor man’s big, bloody hands, hands she’d admired many times over the last seven years. Oh, Rogan! Feanna burst into tears. Hopefully he’d died quickly without suffering.
Tansa screamed, her eyes riveted on Rogan’s body.
“Look away, sweetheart,” Feanna begged. For the first time in her life, she was deeply and truly frightened.
Chapter 45
Daia sat in the dining hall beside Edan and picked at the grapes in the basket before her. Tennara sat in the chair across from her, eating a meal of eggs, duck and bread with gusto now that her shift on guard duty over. “I doubt a fall down the stairs would’ve awakened him,” Daia said with a grin.
Tennara chuckled, gesturing with a piece of bread. “I was thinking, ‘Couldn’t we have gotten a smaller man as king?’ He must weigh three hundred stones.”
“None of it fat, though,” Edan said. “He’s a giant muscle from head to toe. You should’ve awakened me. I could’ve helped.”
Daia shrugged. “We managed.” In truth, she didn’t think Edan, with his wiry build and indoor lifestyle, was any stronger than Tennara or Ragetha or herself. No matter who was doing the carrying, getting an unconscious man the size of Gavin Kinshield up a flight of stairs was going to be difficult.
Trevick came downstairs and approached Daia. “Pardon, Miss Daia. Do you know where my mom is?”
“She went to the market for something,” Tennara said then looked out the window at the bright sunlight and gloomed. “She’ll be back soon, hon.”
Daia cocked her head and formed a silent question with her eyes: what’s wrong?
Trevick nodded sleepily and climbed the stairs. When the boy was out of earshot, Tennara said, “She should’ve been back by now. I hope she didn’t get lost.”
Daia rose to her feet, feeling apprehensive. “Did she say where she was going?”
“She took the girls to the coffee shop to buy a gift for Lord Gavin. She estimated the walk to be a half-hour there and another back. She’s been gone for nearly an hour and a half.”
Having grown up in Tern, Daia knew the city well. “I’ll find them.”
“I’ll come with you,” Edan said, standing.
“If anything’s happened to her, it’s my fault,” Tennara said. “I wanted to send Taria with her, but she’d toured the city for days and convinced me she’d be safe. What do you want me to do?”
“Stay here,” Edan said. “Wait for her in case she comes back before we do and goes to her room. We wouldn’t want to organize a search unnecessarily.”
As they walked to the stable, Daia said, “There are only two coffee shops that I know of. If she’s been taking the children to Canopy Park, then it’s likely she’s gone to the one nearby. If you’d like to check the shop by the city gate, I’ll head south to the shop nearest the park.”
“Will do,” Edan said. “Meet back here in half an hour if you don’t find her, and we’ll organize a more thorough search.”
Daia quickly bridled and saddled her mare and trotted down the street in the direction of the park, though soon she had to slow to a walk due to the number of pedestrians, horses and carts on the road. Whenever she got the opportunity, she heeled Calie to a trot as she scanned the faces for Feanna’s. When she arrived at the coffee shop, she dismounted and went inside.
The shopkeeper put on a smile. “Good morning, Lady Sister. Can I interest you—”
“I’m sorry. I’m looking for a woman who might have been here earlier this morning. This tall...” She held a hand to the top of her ear. “...about my age, golden-brown hair.”
“Yes, she was here earlier with t
hree girls. Bought a bag of my morning roast. Lovely woman.”
“Did you happen to see which direction she went when she left here?”
He rubbed his chin. “I saw them walk out and turn right, heading north, but ten minutes later, I could have sworn I saw them go past on the backs of two horses.”
Daia stiffened. “Was she with a dark-haired man?”
“I didn’t get a good look, but I’m fairly certain she was with a Viragon Sister.”
“You didn’t think to call the lordover’s guard?”
“She was with a Viragon Sister,” the man said defensively. “I assumed you’re all honorable people.”
Daia couldn’t argue with that logic. “Thank you, sir. You’ve been most helpful.”
She mounted again and headed south, looking for possible clues. Ahead in the street, lay a small burlap bag, trampled nearly flat with its brown granular contents spilled and scattered. “Callibisters,” she muttered. All she could tell was that Feanna and her abductor had gone this way. She asked a few shopkeepers along the way if they’d seen Feanna and the girls. One boy, standing on the corner trying to sell apples, said he’d seen the horses trot past to the south. Daia flipped him a pielar and continued southward, searching and calling out for her. Eventually she entered the southernmost district that abutted the mountain slope. Her sense of foreboding increased when she spotted a pale green shawl lying in the street, either discarded or lost.
A fire had raged there a year or two ago, and many families were displaced. No one had bothered rebuilding. Was it possible Feanna was being held hostage in one of these abandoned buildings?
The main streets in Tern were paved with large stones, but here most of the paving stones had been pilfered, leaving a hard dirt surface. A disturbance in the dirt, possibly caused by a cantering horse, led her further south and east. A rat skittered into the street, paused to look at her, and continued across. The neighborhood was eerily quiet. Homes that had once been filled with laughter and love stood like phantom soldiers. Footsteps approached from behind. She wheeled around as she reached for her sword.
A big man with wild red hair and a thick mustache, his cheeks bristly with a two-day beard, grabbed Calie’s bridle with his left hand. In his right, he held a sword. “Don’t do it. I’ll slit your mount’s throat then yours. Unbuckle your scabbard and toss it down.”
Although she was fairly certain she could best him, especially mounted, Feanna’s life might be in danger. For now, she thought diplomacy and cooperation were her best options. “You’re making a mistake.” She held her palms out to show she hid no weapon.
“No, I ain’t.” He smiled and sucked his teeth.
“I’m here on behalf of the king. If it’s money you want, I can pay you handsomely.”
The swordsman laughed. “It ain’t money. Your weapons. Now.”
“I’m only looking lost friend.”
“Well, I found a lost friend. Do I got to slay this fine horse o’yours?” He pressed the point of his sword against Calie’s neck. The mare stepped back and tried to pull her head away, but he held fast.
Daia unbuckled the scabbard around her waist and tossed it to the ground. “Look, you can have my steel. Let me find my friend and I’ll be gone.”
“The knife too.”
She withdrew her dagger slowly using her thumb and forefinger and tossed it near the sword.
“That’s good. Now get off.”
She dismounted slowly, keeping one eye on his blade. When he picked up her weapons, she casually slipped the ring off her finger and into her coin pouch so he wouldn’t notice its blue gem and claim it as his prize. The dagger he slipped into his belt behind his back, and the sword he held in his left hand, releasing the bridle. He motioned to the east with her sword. “That way.”
He steered her toward a cottage at the base of the mountain slope. On the ground outside lay the headless body of a man. The image of Gavin’s cousin’s head in a wooden crate came to mind. Oh, no. Rogan? She couldn’t stop staring at the corpse as she approached. Whoever it was had been a big man, possibly the size of Gavin’s brother, with dark hair on his forearms and big hands. As she walked by it, a figure in the doorway drew her attention. The sight of Ravenkind’s black hair and blue eyes made her blood freeze.
Gavin awoke feeling like his skull was caving in. Every time he moved his head, an unseen pickax pounded the back of it like someone was trapped in there, trying to get out. Distantly, he wondered how he’d gotten into bed. He was fully clothed, though he usually slept nude, except he was barefoot. The last thing he remembered was riding back to the inn after a journey through time. The sun was shining through his window, but the light stabbing his eyes hurt so much he thought they might bleed. He stumbled over and shut the blinds. Better. He groped for Aldras Gar leaning against the wall and fell back onto the bed. With the hilt against his chest, he concentrated on pushing his healing magic through the gems. The relief was instant, like cool water poured over a sunburn.
After a few minutes, he was able to rise again without the urge to push the sword through his chest and end it all. Then he remembered that Feanna would be downstairs. The last thing he wanted to do was go down in a foul mood because of a headache. He spent a few more minutes pushing his fluttering white healing energy through the gems. As long as he didn’t turn his head too quickly, the pain was barely noticeable.
He wiped himself clean with a wet cloth and changed his clothes, then set his soiled garments in the hall outside his door. He didn’t know whether the innkeeper’s wife would be able to get the blood out of his tunic, but it was worth a try. Taking slow, even steps, he made it downstairs without the pain returning. In the dining hall, Edan was talking quietly with Tennara and stopped when he entered.
“Where is everyone?” he asked as he joined them at the table.
“Gav, sit down.” Edan’s expression was taut with worry and anxiety. He’d never seen his friend look so grim.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Miss Feanna went out this morning to buy a gift for you,” he said.
“Oh, hell. Where is she? What happened?”
“She never came back. Daia and I went to search for her, thinking she’d gotten lost.”
Gavin’s first thought was that she didn’t want a relationship with him after all. “She went back to Saliria?”
Edan shook his head. “Trevick’s still here. She also left her horse and wagon. There’s more.”
Gavin took the nearby bottle of wine, uncorked it and took a long draw. “All right,” he said. “Tell me.”
“Daia hasn’t come back yet. If Feanna met with foul play, I worry that Daia has as well.”
“Seven hells!” Gavin rose, ready to begin a search.
“Wait, Gav. It gets worse. Sit down. Please.”
“How the hell could it get worse?” Gavin sat back down.
Edan drew a piece of paper from the pages of a book. “This message arrived a few minutes ago.” He read from the paper. “I have them all: Liera, her three sons, your lovely friend Feanna and her darling little orphans, not to mention Dona and Nasharla. If you want to see them alive again, send Daia Saberheart alone to the city center at noon with the jeweled sword and a signed note relinquishing any claim you think you have to the throne. She’ll receive instructions from there. If you follow her, I will execute one member of Rogan’s family. Every hour you delay, I will cut off a finger. It might be a nephew’s, it might be your freckle-faced sister-in-law’s, it might be your bride-to-be’s. If Daia doesn’t arrive by nightfall, then someone will die. Truly, BR.”
Gavin felt the room close in. The air became thin and hard to breathe. This couldn’t be right. How could Ravenkind have them all? They’d been safe, guarded. How would he have known about Feanna? “Wait. What about Rogan? He didn’t mention Rogan.”
Edan pressed his lips together in a mute expression of sorrow. His eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m sorry, Gav. Rogan’s been slain.”
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Gavin shot to his feet. “What? Don’t you tell me that, Edan. Don’t you dare.”
Edan rose too. “I wouldn’t torture you with such a thing if it weren’t true.”
Gavin looked at Tennara, and she confirmed it with a sorrowful nod. His eyes began to burn. “Where is he? I want to see him.”
“Gavin, no,” Edan said. “You don’t want that image forever haunting your dreams. Trust me. Your brother’s gone.”
He grabbed Edan by the shirt collar and hauled him up close. “Where the hell is he?”
Edan’s eyes, full of understanding and regret, held his steadily. “Tennara, would you mind?”
The swordswoman left the room. Gavin let him go. He didn’t know what to think. His mind grew numb. Tennara returned carrying a square wooden crate. No. He felt the blood drain from his face. For the sake of King Arek, for the sake of everything good in all the seven realms, let that not be what it appeared. She set it on the table.
The lid was loose, and with trembling hands, he lifted it away. As if in a dream, he saw his hands move the fabric aside. He saw the curling dark hair that resembled his own. He reached in and felt the hard, round object and the small protrusions on the sides like... ears. He lifted it and found himself looking at his brother’s pale face, the expression relaxed but stiff, the eyelids half closed and the deep brown eyes gazing forever downward. No. Rogan, no. It couldn’t be. He stared harder, trying to see it as a stranger, as anyone but Rogan.
A sharp pain ignited his chest as he sank to his knees. His vision blurred. When he blinked to clear it, drops of water trickled down his cheeks. How could he have let this happen? First Arek, then his father, his wife, his daughter, and now his brother. He clutched Rogan to his chest protectively, as if he could shield his brother from harm. His fingers clenched the soft hair. He pressed his lips to the top of Rogan’s cold skull, whispering, “I’m sorry, Rogan, I’m sorry.” What kind of world would it be without him, his only anchor to happier times? It wasn’t until he felt Edan’s arm across his shoulder that Gavin realized he was sobbing. The pain in his chest was excruciating. He could barely breathe. “It’s my fault,” he said in a voice so hoarse he wasn’t sure he’d spoken aloud. “He died because o’me. He would’ve been safe in his home, but I made him come here.”
