All right, then. Before he could change his mind, he got up and took the cards from the drawer. He sat in Serek’s chair, shuffling the cards and focusing his mind on the question of the portal mage and what his own involvement with him might be. He decided to use one of the most basic patterns for the cards: a simple three-card spread representing past, present, and future.
When he felt he had shuffled them enough, he lay the top three cards down in front of him. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and relaxed. It was important to stay focused and not let anything he saw distract him from the reading.
The first card represented the past. It showed a baby in a cradle, and as Calen looked at it, the familiar feeling of connection came over him, the cards seeming like living beings, as if they were trying to touch him, to tell him important things. The message in this card was instantly clear: innocence. That must refer back to the time before any of this started, before Sen Eva and her evil plot and maybe even back before he’d met Meg.
The second card, the present, showed a small boat caught up on rocks in the middle of a river. The boat wanted to move, to get off the rocks and flow freely along in the water toward its destination, but it was stuck. Stuck like Calen was, unable to do anything because of the suspicion hanging over him.
The third card showed the future — or what the future could bring, if the present did not change. The image on this card was of a king, smiling from atop his golden throne. But it was upside down, which made the smile look like a frown. And it didn’t represent a king, not literally. It meant a person who had reached some pinnacle of achievement, some place of fulfilled destiny or ambition. Or it should have, but because it was reversed, it signified the opposite: a person unfulfilled. Who never became what he should have been. Never did what he was meant to do. And along with that, there was an echo of a larger disappointment, a larger sense of things not being the way they were meant to be.
Calen placed the cards back into the deck and began shuffling again. That hadn’t really told him anything he didn’t already know, or at least suspect. He needed . . . he needed to know what he could do to change that future.
He glanced at the door again. That hadn’t taken long at all; he had time for one more reading. He probably had time for several more, really, but he wanted to be safely engaged in other activities by the time Serek or Anders returned. He wanted to have a ready answer for what he’d been doing while they were gone, if they happened to ask.
So just one more. Something to tell him what he should do. How he could change that outcome.
There was another small spread he knew, one that used four cards. It was helpful when there were choices to be made because it showed two sets of actions with their likely consequences.
Calen shuffled a few more times, thinking about what he should do to help with the portal mage situation. Then he dealt four cards: action, consequence, action, consequence.
The first card showed a little boy being scolded by a father or teacher. Calen’s calm almost slipped at this one; it was so eerily reflective of his relationship with Serek. The action suggested here was compliance, he thought. The boy submitting to the will of his elder.
The consequence card showed a spinning coin. He’d seen this card before; it always meant that there was some reason a certain idea or action or result couldn’t be seen clearly. That there were too many forces in play, too many factors that could affect the outcome. Calen sighed. That wasn’t particularly helpful.
The third card showed a traveler setting out on a journey. This meaning seemed pretty clear as well — Calen striking out on his own, deciding to take action even if Serek didn’t approve.
He turned to the fourth card and again almost lost his composure. He closed his eyes to refocus, then opened them again. It was the universe, a dark expanse of the heavens showing the sun and moons and stars. It seemed to suggest . . . everything.
Calen sat back in his chair, drained and excited and a little nervous. That was about as clear a message as you could ask for. The cards were definitely saying that if he did nothing, they didn’t know what would happen, but if he set out to try and change things, he could achieve something really important.
Maybe this was how he could prove to everyone that he wasn’t the danger they thought he was. Maybe the real danger was in sitting still and doing nothing. Maybe, if he . . . if he . . .
If he what? That was the part the cards couldn’t tell him exactly. He would have think about it carefully. Maybe he should wait to see an opportunity. Maybe he would know it when he saw it.
A yawn took him over for several seconds, and he realized it must be really, really late by now. He should try to catch some sleep. He gathered the cards back together, wrapped them carefully, and placed them back in the drawer exactly as he’d found them.
In the morning, he’d tell Meg what he’d seen. Maybe she’d have some ideas for what he could do. But even if he didn’t know exactly what his plan was yet, he felt good just knowing he was going to make one.
MEG WOKE UP FEELING BETTER THAN she had in weeks. She could tell Jakl felt good, too; he practically gleamed at her through the link, energetic and happy. They hadn’t slept all that long, really, just a few hours, but there had been no dreams, and no fear of dreams, and that had made an enormous difference.
Pela had waited up for her last night, and Meg had explained what she could about the nightmares. She told Pela that Sen Eva had been sending them to both her and Jakl, but she avoided actually explaining about the link. She thought Pela suspected at least some part of the truth about Meg’s relationship with the dragon, but Pela didn’t say anything other than that she was glad Meg would be able to sleep easier now.
Meg let Pela dress her without complaint and went down to breakfast. Nan Vera was there with baby Mattie; she said Meg’s parents had gone off to an important meeting and Maurel was still asleep. That was fine with Meg. She didn’t really want to talk about what had happened last night. Nan Vera didn’t say anything about it, either. She just made polite small talk about the baby and the weather, and Meg was grateful.
She was still feeling good enough after breakfast that she thought she would check in on Wilem first thing, to get that unpleasant duty out of the way. If his sleep had been free of dreams as well, it need only be a short visit.
The guards admitted her and gave her the usual disapproving frowns when Meg told them to close the door, but she insisted. She didn’t think Wilem would try anything with the guards right outside. And she didn’t need the whole castle gossiping about the dreams, which is what would surely happen if she left the door open and the guards heard their conversation.
Wilem was sitting at the table, an open book and the remains of his breakfast before him.
“Good morning, Princess,” he said, rising.
“Good morning.” She approached the table but didn’t sit. “I came to see how your sleep has been. No more dreams, I trust?”
“No,” he said. “Whatever the mages did seems to have worked.”
Meg nodded. “I’m glad to hear it.” She turned to go.
“Princess Meglynne —” He reached out a hand to stop her, but didn’t quite touch her with it. “I had hoped to ask you: is there anything I can do? To help?”
“To help with what?” He already did daily work around the castle under the guards’ supervision, helping with whatever odd jobs needed doing.
“With the efforts to stop my mother and what she’s trying to accomplish.”
That stopped her. “What —? How?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I just —” He looked down for a long moment, then met her eyes again. “I know I can probably never make up for my part in what she was trying to do. But I would still like to try. If there’s anything, any way I can help . . . You know she is capable of terrible things. But I know her better than anyone else. I might have some insight or information that could be useful.”
“You didn’t know her quite as we
ll as you thought, though, did you?” Meg asked.
Wilem flushed. “No. I suppose not. But I do still know a great deal about her.”
Meg studied his face, trying to see the truth there. “Why would you want to help us against your own mother?”
He kept his eyes on hers, steady and serious. “Because whatever else she is to me, she is also very dangerous. I think she truly believes that mage will somehow bring Father and Tymas back to her. She would do anything, sacrifice anyone, to make that happen. She made that clear when she lied to me. When I think about what she was doing, how she convinced me it was necessary to — to commit murder . . .” He shook his head. “I cannot pretend I owe her any loyalty after that. Or believe that there are any limits to what she might do. And I — I want you to know that I regret my own actions, so much. . . .”
He took another step toward her. He was too close now; she should tell him to step back, but she couldn’t seem to look away from his face.
“Please,” he said. And then he took her hand, and she was so startled she just stood there and looked down at it. It felt . . . nice. Not like the hand of a monster. But wasn’t that what he was?
The door opened, and Calen’s voice preceded him. “Meg, Nan Vera told me you were up here —”
He froze, shock plain upon his face. Meg pulled her hand out of Wilem’s grasp. Calen looked at her, then at Wilem. Then back.
“What — what is this?”
“What is what?” Meg tried to keep her voice light. Her heart was thumping. Why was her heart thumping like that?
“What are you doing?” Calen sounded more incredulous with every word. “Meg — have you forgotten who he is? I never would have thought — I can’t —” He took a few steps backward, shaking his head. Then he turned and strode out.
“Calen! Calen, wait!” She threw Wilem a furious final glance — he was just standing there, looking stricken — and then took off after Calen. Jakl was beginning to react to her emotions, and she tried to send him reassuring feelings. Just stupid human stuff, she thought at him. Nothing to worry your dragon head about.
She caught up with Calen down the hall.
“Calen, stop! It’s not what you think!”
He stopped and turned to face her. “No? You weren’t standing there holding hands?”
“No! He grabbed my hand right before you came in. We weren’t ‘holding hands.’ It wasn’t like that.”
He started walking again. “Looked like that to me.”
“Calen, please. He was asking me if he could help us in the fight against Sen Eva. I think he was just trying to show me he was sincere.” She stepped alongside him, but he didn’t turn to look at her.
“Like last time?”
“This is different!” Was it? Was she really just letting herself be lied to all over again?
“Why would he want to help us fight his own mother?”
“I asked him the same thing! He wants to try to make up for what he did. For what he’d been willing to do. She lied to him, Calen.”
“He’s probably lying to you,” Calen said through gritted teeth. “Why can’t you see that? Why do you keep letting him talk to you at all? I thought you hated him. Remember how much you hated him? What happened to that?”
Meg blinked. “I . . . I do hate him, Calen. Of course I do. But I really think he wants to try —”
He spun to face her again, cutting her off. “No, you don’t,” he said. “Lie to yourself if you want to, but don’t lie to me. And stop trying to let him off the hook. Stop trying to forget what he did. Some things can never be forgiven, Meg. No matter what he thought his reasons were.”
“Calen, he feels really terrible about everything.”
He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, but his eyes were cold and hard. “Oh, he feels terrible? Oh, in that case, sure, go ahead and hold hands with him all you want! You might as well let him kiss you again, too!”
Meg was shocked into speechlessness. Calen whirled back around and continued down the hall. In a moment, he had turned the corner and vanished from her sight.
Meg stood where she was, staring after him. Calen had never spoken to her like that before. Ever. She’d never seen him so angry.
She was angry, too . . . but it was so mixed up with other emotions that she couldn’t sort any of them out. For once Jakl seemed to be the one keeping his distance through the link; he probably didn’t know how to feel, either.
Stupid . . . boys! Meg thought to herself in frustration. Calen had no right to be mad at her. He’s the one who had completely misinterpreted the situation. She had certainly not been “holding hands” with Wilem. He had taken her hand. That was entirely different. And why had he done that? Why had he thought he had a right to touch her?
Because you’ve been too nice to him, she answered herself.
Maybe. Probably. She didn’t know. She did still hate him. She thought she did, anyway. Or at least, she knew she should. But was it wrong to want to believe that he wanted to try to make up for what he had done? Was Calen right that some things could never, ever be forgiven, no matter what the reasons were behind them? Was it true that people deserved to pay for their mistakes forever?
The topic of forgiveness and who deserved it reminded her that she’d wanted to look in on Tessel again this morning. Her guilt weighed heavily on her as she made her way down to the infirmary. She’d stopped by a couple of times the day before, but the courier had been sleeping each time.
She was sleeping now, as well. The physicians said it happened this way sometimes, that a person would sleep a great deal following a traumatic event. They said Tessel would start to spend more time awake when she was ready.
Meg sat beside Tessel’s bed and looked at the bandages. She wondered if Tessel would have scars from the cuts, if she’d have to remember what had happened to her every time her eye fell on one of them. If the memory of being tortured before a screaming, bloodthirsty crowd would ever become less painful, or if it would stay fresh and terrible in her mind forever.
It was a long while before Meg headed back to her rooms.
Pela was waiting outside her door when she arrived. “There you are! Your parents are looking for you. They’re waiting for you in their study.”
Meg obediently turned around and headed back downstairs. Maybe they wanted to tell her what their meeting was about this morning. She had been unofficially relieved of duties since her return from Lourin — her father had pointedly suggested that she rest and “reflect on her recent actions” for a while. Maybe her parents were ready to start letting her resume some of her princess-heir responsibilities. That would be welcome news. She was eager to start proving herself to them again. And having more work to do would leave less time for thinking about everything else.
She made herself smile at the guard in the hallway outside and then pushed open the door to the study. One look at her parents’ faces told her this was not about anything good.
“What’s wrong?” she asked from where she’d stopped, just inside the door.
“Sit down, Meg,” said her father.
She sat. She tried not to imagine what new terrible thing could have happened now. The king was holding a piece of parchment in his hand.
“A courier from Lourin brought King Gerald’s response this morning,” her father began. “He seems to be somewhat recovered from Sen Eva’s influence. But he still isn’t certain he believes we are not behind the attacks. He is willing to discuss matters, however, and will hold off on a formal declaration of war pending our negotiations.”
She looked back and forth between her parents. “But — but that’s good news, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But there are certain . . . conditions.” The king sighed, then looked at her squarely. “Meg, he is insisting that you and Jakl be confined to the castle grounds, at least until matters are sorted out. I realize you —”
Meg jumped back to her feet. “That’s ridiculous!”
“Meg,” her moth
er said, “given all that has happened, and especially given how things must seem from Lourin’s perspective, it is not at all unreasonable for King Gerald to ask for this. And we will agree, and graciously, because our priority must be to prevent hostilities from escalating.”
“I will not —”
“Sit down, Meg,” her father said. When she hesitated, he added, “Right now.”
Meg took a deep breath and made herself sit down again. Stupid, she scolded herself. She was supposed to be showing her parents how responsible she could be. How able she was to put Trelian’s needs before her own. And her dragon’s.
She tried to make her voice calm and reasonable. “Father,” she began, “I understand. I do. But can’t we tell King Gerald that we promise not to approach his lands? Surely that’s all he really cares about. . . .” Her father was shaking his head.
“King Gerald was very clear about what he wanted,” her father said. “He does not want to take our word for it that the dragon will not approach his boundaries. He does not want to risk harm to his allies, either. He is sending an army to wait at our borders, Meg, and he will have soldiers stationed here, watching the sky and the roads. I believe he sent outriders along with the courier, in fact, so some of his men are already here. We cannot refuse him this, not if we want to avoid sparking hostilities. Jakl must not leave the castle grounds. Not to fly, not to hunt, not to go for a stroll along the Queen’s Road. He will stay right here, and so will you.”
An army. Oh, gods. Jakl had been slowly stirring again as she had responded to her father’s announcement, and she could feel him fully focused on her now, aware of her agitation. She tried to soothe him through the link, but it was hard to do while she was so upset. And frightened.
“But it’s not fair,” she said. She heard the whine in her voice and hated herself for it. “Jakl didn’t do anything! They’re punishing him for something that’s not his fault!”
“Fair has nothing to do with it,” her mother said. “Of course it’s not fair. Ruling a kingdom is not about what’s fair and what’s not. You must learn that, Meg. If you are to be the princess-heir, you must be able to put the good of the kingdom before everything else.”
The Princess of Trelian Page 21
