Mia fell back against the pillows and squeezed her eyes shut. She lay there listening to the sound of her own breathing and tried to come up with a plan for what to do next. Food, new clothes and clean water to wash with? She must be the best looked after prisoner in the history of kidnapping. But what did they want from her? Thinking back to the night before and her volatile interaction with Orden, Mia searched for some hint. Most of what he’d said was nonsense and gibberish, she didn’t for one minute believe the fantasy he was pitching. He must want to ransom her.
Mia opened her eyes. Long pine boards ran in perfect horizontal lines from one end of the ceiling to the other, each one lovingly stained a golden brown. Dark spots added character; in some places, the knots had worked themselves lose with the shrinking and expansion of the wood. Her stomach growled, and she moved a hand to cover it. Sitting up Mia wrapped her arms around her knees and took a good long look at the room. It was rather bare, nothing hung on the paneled walls, the same knotty pine as the ceiling. There were no electrical ports or light switches; these people were taking it to extremes. The furniture was simple and functional. How many others had been forced to use this room before her? Mia shivered. Maybe she was better off not knowing.
There was a soft knock at the door. Mia’s eyes fixed on the small handle, watching it turn and then the door opened. Breahn poked her dark head into the room, smiling when she saw Mia on the bed. “Not up yet?”
What? In the last minute or so since she’d left? “Not yet,” Mia said irritably.
Breahn smirked and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. “Well, Da’s not content to leave ye up here moping.” She crossed the room to the wardrobe, flinging the doors wide as she spoke. “He tried to send Ma up here to hurry ye along but she wouldn’t. She’s still rattled after yesterday.” Breahn gave Mia a hard look over one shoulder and pulled something out of the wardrobe. Mia met her gaze without remorse. Why should she feel bad? The other girl raised a brow. “So he sent me.”
“Lucky you,” Mia muttered, shifting her attention to the window. Through the clouded glass, she could make out a bright blue sky and the smudge of the tree line.
“Lucky.” The girl echoed and the wardrobe doors close. Then she laughed. “Yes, I suppose I am lucky,” Breahn said in a thoughtful voice, “I have the honor of dressing a Guardian.” Mia whipped her head around with a speed that nearly broke her neck. There was a pleased quirk to Breahn’s mouth; the girl seemed to be waiting for Mia to say something. All Mia could think was: Not you too. “Of course, no one will likely know of it. But still,” Breahn paused, shrugging her shoulders, “It is something.”
“You’re just as crazy as him,” Mia whispered, going pale.
“It would seem crazy to you,” Breahn said after a lengthy silence. She didn’t look angry or insulted. Instead, there was sympathy in the blue eyes that met Mia’s wide brown ones. She took a step toward the bed, the skirts of her plain medieval looking dress rustling with the movement, and pressed her mouth into a line when Mia shrank back against the wall. With an air of determination, Breahn took another step and lay the bundle of clothes she held in her arms on the foot of the bed. “I didn’t put much stock in his stories in the beginning either,” she said and seated herself carefully on the corner of the bed.
“What stories?” Mia demanded harshly, “All he told me is that I’m Chosen and some bull about being in another world.”
“And ye are.” Breahn answered calmly, “He’s telling the truth.”
“But that’s impossible!” Mia nearly shouted, already close to tears in her exasperation. “Don’t you realize how ridiculous that sounds? God!” She exclaimed throwing her hands in the air only to drop them to the mattress, her fists making small ‘poofs’ as they connected. “If you’re going to ransom me or kill me at least say so. Don’t cover it up with a crazy story.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong.” Mia tried to disagree, but Breahn cut her off. “What?” Breahn asked, jumping to her feet. She fixed Mia with a look, her delicate brows drawn together, “Are ye so desperate to die that ye refuse to believe the truth?”
“What? No!” Mia squeaked in denial, shocked to be accused of such a thing. “I don’t want to die.”
“Then isn’t the alternative, no matter how strange, better?”
“Not if it’s a lie.” Mia countered.
“Which it isn’t.”
Mia made a sound somewhere between a scream and a groan and rolled out of bed. Staring out the window, she found her gaze drawn to the dark line of trees in the distance. Mia wrapped her arms around herself, fearing she might fall apart if she didn’t hold herself together.
Breahn’s skirts rustled as she came to stand beside her. “I know it’s difficult to understand.” Said the other girl. When Mia made no reply, she kept talking. “Like I said, I didn’t believe any of it at first. Ye see, Orden isna really my Da.” Mia didn’t have anything to say to that. She wanted to ask the other girl what it had to do with anything but didn’t. Mia made herself listen as the other girl told her story.
Breahn and Hanna were from a small settlement to the North, a place she called Longford. She was fifteen years old when her father had been killed in something she called a Selk raid. They'd lost their family farm a few months later when it was seized and absorbed into the Lord’s holdings. Hanna had started working at the town inn to support them, but it hadn’t been enough. They’d struggled. Shortly after Breahn turned sixteen, a man came to their town selling horses. Orden and Hanna met at the inn. Upon hearing about their situation, Orden had offered Hanna and her daughter work on his equine farm. They would live with him and his son. He married Hanna shortly after.
“I remember thinking my step-brother rather odd,” Breahn said, looking over at Mia who tensed, pretending not to notice. “He spent very little time in or around the house. Not much for conversation ye could say” Breahn laughed and looked forward. Mia relaxed. “Anyway, a year later we learned of the Guardians’ deaths.” Mia turned at the use of the word. Who was she talking about? “That’s when Ma and I found out who they really are.” According to Breahn, Orden’s son was in fact not his child at all but the remaining Dragon entrusted to the Keeper.
“Okay wait,” Mia said looking at Breahn in disbelief. “Did you really just say Dragon?”
“Are your ears filled with tar?” The other girl asked, “Yes I did.”
“Dragons aren’t real.” Mia said, wondering why she was even listening to this, “You do realize that?”
“Of course they are. Ye’ve met one.”
“I think I’d know if I met a Dragon.” Mia scoffed and looked out the window, she was quickly growing tired of this conversation.
Breahn snorted, “Obviously not.”
“Who then?” Mia challenged with a ferocious glare on her face, rising to the bait despite her intention not to.
“Vander,” Breahn said without so much as a pause.
“The guy who found me in the woods? That Vander?”
“There’s only one.”
“But-” Mia spluttered trying to wrap her head around what Breahn was trying to say. Then she remembered that she shouldn’t believe a word out of her mouth.
“I’ve said too much,” Breahn said too quick and whirled away in a flurry of skirts, leaving Mia to gape after her. “Da’s not going to be pleased with me.” She picked a piece of clothing from the pile on the bed and faced Mia. “Let’s get ye dressed and then ye can talk to him about it.”
“I don’t want to talk to him,” Mia protested, “he’s an ass.”
Breahn actually glared at her then. “Such an ass that he brought ye inside to sleep in a bed instead of the grass?"
“What?”
“That’s right,” Breahn nodded, pulling her lips back from straight teeth. “He could have left ye out in the cold, but he didn’t.”
“I…” Mia couldn’t find the right words to express how that made her feel. She closed her mouth and
wracked her brain for some memory of this, but Mia couldn’t remember anything past the damp chill in her bones and the impenetrable dark. Breahn could be lying of course- Mia’s go to assumption, but what reason could she possibly have? Looking at Breahn, her direct gaze, the matter-of-fact way she relayed information; The other girl didn’t strike Mia as a liar. But Mia couldn’t reconcile the things Breahn had told her with her own truth.
Breahn’s face softened as she watched Mia’s internal struggle unfold. “We truly mean ye no harm, contrary to what ye might think.”
The weird thing was that Mia was starting to believe her.
Chapter 21
Breahn folded the ragged remains of Mia’s dress over her arm and patted the black fabric thoughtfully. She ran her eyes down Mia’s length, taking in her new clothes. The dull brown pants were a size too big, and bunched uncomfortably around her shins where they tucked into a pair of scuffed leather boots. Mia wore a tight-fitting vest of leather over a long white tunic the sleeves of which she’d already rolled to the elbows. Breahn bobbed her head, and a satisfied grin split her lips. “Ye’ll do.”
Mia looked down at herself and tried to keep an open mind. She felt ridiculous. The fabric was coarser than she was used to and it itched. The vest was nice, the only part of the ensemble she actually liked. Dark brown leather, it was stitched with a lighter color thread in a simple design along the collar and down the edges. A leather cord bound the front together, crisscrossing from the rounded neckline down to the hem where it was tied in a droopy bow. Mia played with the cord and looked up to meet Breahn’s gaze.
“What shall I do with these?” Breahn asked indicating the holy tights and dress in her arms. Mia didn’t know why she hesitated to tell her to get rid of them. They were ruined and even whole, impractical. “I’ll wash them and return them to ye.” Breahn decided before Mia could answer, giving her an uncomfortable smile. “Let’s go down, shall we?”
The house Breahn led her through came to vivid life in the daylight. The corridor Mia had run down the previous night was long and narrow, lit by a long beam of sunlight pouring through a square window behind them. Woven images hung on the paneled walls, beautiful landscapes picked out in a vibrant thread. She was vaguely aware of them as they passed, her attention caught by Breahn’s thick black braid bouncing between her shoulders. They turned left at the end of the hall and walked out onto a landing. Mia had the impression of a vast space in light shades of golden brown and heavy timbers as they walked down the wide staircase to the lower level.
“This way,” The girl murmured in a quiet voice, turning to the right. Breahn stepped through the open doorway and into the kitchen. Mia didn’t follow her immediately; her eyes were fixed on the door standing squarely in the middle of the double story wall. All she had to do was walk over to it, turn the large brass handle and then she’d be outside. She took a step in the direction of her freedom and stopped. A century dragged by as Mia turned her head toward the kitchen and found Breahn standing in the doorway. Neither of them spoke a word, but a silent conversation took place between them where Mia’s intention was made clear, and Breahn let her know it was a bad idea. Mia lingered a moment longer at the bottom of the stairs, then she brushed past the other girl and stepped into the kitchen.
There were a few things Mia noticed immediately upon entering the room. The smell of burning wood hung on the air, smoky and thick, it tickled her throat as she breathed it in. Hanna was bent over a black pot hanging over the low burning fire in the hearth, spooning thick white clumps into a wooden bowl. Orden looked up from his breakfast, his jaw working as he chewed his food. Their eyes met, and Mia’s spine stiffened, memories of the previous night rushing in. Mia clenched her teeth and held his intense pale-eyed gaze.
She did her best not to fidget as he took in her appearance, new clothes, and smoothed over hair. He wiped his mouth with the back of a hand and laid both hands on either side of his bowl of food. The table was back in its original spot. “Will you sit?” Orden rumbled, nodding toward an empty chair across the table from him. Mia’s gaze flitted from his face to the chair and back, weighing her options. With deliberate slowness Mia walked around the huge table and rested her hand on the back of the chair furthest away from him. She pulled it out and sat down. “You look rested,” Orden remarked with a sidelong look.
“Yes. Thank you.”
He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. “You’re welcome.”
There was movement out of the corner of Mia’s eye. Then Hanna was sliding a bowl of the porridge-like stuff in front of her. “Here ye are dear,” Hanna said in a quiet voice, glossing over her ‘r’s so it came out sounding like: “Hea ye aa dea.” The tentative smile she gave made Mia cringe with guilt. She’d been truly horrible to the older woman yesterday.
“Thank you.” Mia murmured, taking the wooden spoon Hanna offered her. Hanna tilted her head and stepped back from the table. Mia looked down at the mush in her bowl and prodded it with her spoon. An earthy aroma wafted up from it, not at all unpleasant and her mouth watered.
“It’s maize porridge,” Breahn said, taking a seat to Mia’s left. “Ye need to add milk and sweet otherwise it’s bland. Here let me.” She captured Mia’s bowl and demonstrated by dousing the crumbly porridge with a generous helping of milk from a tall decanter. Then she shoveled two generous spoonfuls of brownish crystals over top. Mia watched skeptically as the other girl mixed the ingredients together, the result was no more appetizing than when she’d started. “Go on.” Breahn encouraged, pushing the bowl toward her. Orden watched all of this in silence, his thoughts hidden behind an unreadable mask. Mia stared down at the stuff in her bowl, keenly aware of everyone’s eyes on her.
“Okay then,” Mia muttered, digging her spoon into one of the lumps protruding from the white lake in the bowl. Wrinkling her nose, she popped the spoon into her mouth. It was like nothing Mia had ever tasted before. She chewed thoughtfully, enjoying the thick, crumbly texture even if she couldn’t quite make up her mind about the taste. Mia took another bite; milk contrasted with warm porridge and sweet sugar helped her to swallow the stuff down. Mia was ravenous, scooping the stuff into her mouth faster than she could chew. Milk dribbled down her chin in an undignified stream, she wiped at it with the back of a hand and kept eating.
“I think she likes it,” Breahn said and laughed, pushing her own bowl of porridge across the table toward Mia as the last of hers disappeared into her mouth.
“Thanks,” Mia mumbled past the food in her mouth and attacked the new bowl hungrily. Her stomach had turned into a bottomless pit.
“Good,” Orden took a bite of his own breakfast, chewed and swallowed, “She’ll need her strength if we’re going to start with training.” In her surprise, a chunk of porridge lodged itself in Mia’s trachea, and a bout of hacking ensued. Milk and porridge sprayed from her mouth onto the table, and she gasped and coughed.
“Are ye alright?” Breahn thumped Mia on the back while Orden watched the scene unfold with an unimpressed look.
“Orden ye are tactless.” Hanna chided coming over to the table. Cool fingers captured Mia’s chin, and she looked into Hanna’s face, blurred by the water spilling from her eyes. “Are ye alright dear?”
“I’m okay.” Mia wheezed, pulling out of Hanna’s grasp. She coughed a few times, breathing easier with each contraction. Breahn stayed hovering by Mia’s side, ready to deliver a firm thump to her back should it be needed. When she could breathe without a death rattle, Mia looked into Orden’s lined face, noticing the stubborn set of his mouth. “What do you mean training?”
Orden tapped his knuckles against the tabletop and fixed her with a level-eyed look. Don’t say Chosen. Don’t say Chosen. He sighed through his nose. “You have been brought here to fulfill a purpose. It is my appointed duty to provide you with the tools you will need to do that. To become a Guardian.”
Mia stared at Orden, open-mouthed and tried to form some kind of response. She wanted to argue, to
yell and shout that he was certifiably insane. Wanted to run and put as much distance between herself and this crazy family as possible. But she’d already done that. Mia closed her mouth and blinked, wishing she hadn’t eaten so much. “I’m listening.”
Orden lowered his bushy brows; whatever he was expecting it wasn’t that. His eyes slid from her face to Breahn’s. “What did she tell you?” He asked without looking at her. Mia hesitated, wondering if she was prepared to throw Breahn under the bus. She felt the weight of both Breahn and Hanna’s presence, flanking her on either side. “Enough to make me at least consider that you might be telling the truth,” Mia said vaguely. Grey eyes narrowed and fixed on her face.
Orden knocked his knuckles against the table idly- Mia hoped he wasn’t going to make a habit of it. “So, you have accepted your fate then?”
“I haven’t accepted anything. I’m willing to listen to what you have to say. But I’ll make up my mind once I have all the information.” Mia’s heart thudded against her breastbone, she breathed through her nose so that it wouldn’t sound like she’d finished running a marathon.
Orden crossed his arms over his broad chest, giving nothing away. Mia mirrored him, waiting; the ball was in his court now. To call the tiny upward curve of his mouth a smile would be a generous description. “Very well.” Orden said in a gravelly voice. He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Leave us.”
“We will not.” Hanna placed a warm hand on Mia’s shoulder. Mia didn’t know why but she didn’t shrug the old woman off this time.
Orden’s face darkened, “Woman.” He growled in warning.
“I will not leave ye to frighten the girl off again, Orden.” Hanna’s voice rose shrilly. Mia got the idea she rarely challenged her husband.
Chosen (The Last Guardians Book 1) Page 12
