By the time she had finished she had several nicks and raw patches on her skin, but none of them were serious and she didn’t stop to examine them. Having made short work of her ankle binding with one of her knives, she got to her feet and flung a quick glance around the room. Her swords still lay on the floor; she picked them up and returned them to their place on her back. Myrren had taken her pistol, but he’d left behind her bag with the powder and all the other accoutrements, which was something. He clearly didn’t know much about firearms. If she could just come up with the right lever to hold him and Travers in balance, she’d be able to get the weapon back and make sure Elisse was all right into the bargain. Not that she had any attachment to the woman; she’d only known her for a day. But it was a matter of professional pride.
Holdall in hand, Sorrow left the room and descended the stairs as fast as she could. She burst out of the front door and onto the street in time to see Caraway and a blonde girl in a cloak turning a corner at the far end. Right. She’d follow them. After all, Caraway had done it to her; it was only fair. Maybe she’d find out why he was so interested in Elisse.
She ran to the top of the street, keeping her footfalls as silent as possible, and saw the two of them ahead. Already she’d caught up to within safe stalking distance, which was considerably closer than Caraway had realised yesterday. But then, she knew more about subterfuge than any Helmsman past or present. She had to, in her profession. And when you were trying not to be noticed, the important thing was not to act stealthy. In general, people had a good sense of when other people were creeping around behind them; follow someone in too suspicious a manner, and they’d be able to pick you out even in a crowd. Yet relax and walk as though you were meant to be there, and chances were you wouldn’t even register on their awareness. Dropping into the unhurried saunter she had perfected over the years, Sorrow started after Caraway and his companion.
They’d gone only a short way when a gust of wind caught the girl’s blonde hair. She clapped a hand to her head, but not before Sorrow had caught a glimpse of dark hair underneath. A wig. Interesting. Did that mean … Then the girl peered fearfully back over her shoulder, her gaze passing right across the doorway in which Sorrow lounged with careful nonchalance, and her face became visible for the first time. A shiver ran from Sorrow’s tailbone to the nape of her neck: the sensation she felt when an unexpected opportunity opened up in front of her.
Ayla Nightshade.
Sorrow’s lips curved in a grim smile. No doubt Captain Travers would love to hear about this. And he would hear about it – for a price.
TWENTY
Elisse scowled at the two people sitting across the table from her, trying to hide her fear. When they’d bundled her into the carriage, leaving Sorrow tied and helpless behind them, she’d thought her end had come for certain. If Myrren could defeat Sorrow that easily, he sure as sunrise wouldn’t have any trouble finishing off a pregnant woman. As time had passed without any sign that he wanted to kill her, her mind-numbing terror had begun to subside; yet it didn’t fade completely. After all, Travers had warned her of the danger she was in, and look what had happened to him.
‘What’s your name?’ Myrren asked her now, fixing her with an intent look. When she folded her arms and pressed her lips together, he exchanged a glance with the veiled woman sitting next to him. Or at least, Elisse thought he did. She couldn’t see the woman’s eyes through the veil; it was pretty creepy.
As if she could hear Elisse’s thoughts, the woman pushed back the heavy fall of fabric to reveal her face. She turned out to be young – younger than Elisse herself – and quite attractive, though her air of cool self-possession made Elisse want to hit her.
‘I’m Serenna,’ she said. ‘I’m a priestess in the sixth ring. And of course you know Lord Myrren. Why don’t you tell us who you are?’
Elisse sighed. She couldn’t very well keep refusing to give them her name – and she supposed it wasn’t so sensible to antagonise a man who might want her dead.
‘My name’s Elisse,’ she mumbled, and Myrren nodded.
‘Welcome to Darkhaven, Elisse.’
The words should have carried a certain amount of suppressed glee, or at least a hint of sarcasm, but he appeared to be serious. Repressing an incredulous snort, Elisse looked from him to Serenna. The two of them were so restrained. They were bursting with questions they wanted to ask her, yet they sat there studying her as though she were a rare creature with whom they didn’t know quite how to communicate. Well, if they weren’t going to ask any questions, she would.
‘Wha’ did ya do ta Sorrow?’
Myrren frowned. ‘What?’
‘Naeve Sorrow. My bodyguard.’ The woman had promised to protect her, but Elisse couldn’t blame her for failing; as it had turned out, even a bodyguard with a pistol hadn’t been enough to stand against Myrren Nightshade. ‘Wha’ did ya do ta her?’
‘She’ll be all right.’ He seemed faintly apologetic. ‘You have to understand … it’s very important that we talk to you.’
‘What about?’
‘Well …’ Again he hesitated. This time Serenna stepped in to fill the pause.
‘We need to ask you … how long have you known you are a Changer?’
A wild gurgle of laughter rose up in Elisse’s throat; she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to stop it, breathing out slowly. ‘I think ya got the wrong person.’
‘There’s no point in denying it.’ Myrren’s expression was very stern. ‘My father was killed, and Serenna and Captain Travers were attacked, by a Changer creature. And other than Ayla and me, you are the only person of Nightshade blood left alive.’
All of a sudden he looked very like his father: the sweep of his hair, the set of his jaw, his fierce blue eyes. It was all Elisse could do not to stare – but she had to answer the preposterous allegation he had just made.
‘I’m not o’ Nightshade blood,’ she said.
‘Come on, Elisse.’ There was an edge to Myrren’s voice now. ‘When I said I was looking for a child of Florentyn Nightshade, you were terrified …’
‘O’ course!’ she snapped. ‘I thought ya were there for my baby –’
She pulled herself to a halt, but the words had already been said. The dawning shock on Myrren’s face told her everything she needed to know. He hadn’t realised. He’d thought she, and not her baby, was Florentyn’s child. Would this make him more or less likely to want to dispose of her?
‘Your baby,’ Serenna said softly, as Myrren seemed unable to speak. ‘Florentyn Nightshade was your baby’s father?’
Elisse nodded.
‘But your colouring …’ Myrren sounded hoarse. ‘Even I took you for Ayla, for an instant. Where did you get such colouring, if not from Florentyn?’
Elisse shrugged. ‘How should I know? My father was a labourer in the city; Mam always said I take after him.’ Irritated, she added tartly, ‘It’s not impossible for an ordinary person ta look a little like a Nightshade, ya know.’
‘Lord Myrren.’ Serenna spoke with diffidence. ‘Just because the baby is Florentyn’s, doesn’t mean Elisse can’t be of Nightshade blood herself. Would your father have …’
‘No!’ It was almost a shout. Myrren’s fists came down on the table, making both Elisse and Serenna jump. There was silence. Then Myrren said more quietly, but with just as much vehemence, ‘No. I don’t believe it. I don’t believe any of it.’
Elisse couldn’t understand why he was so adamant. She was about to offer a sharp retort when it occurred to her that this must mean Ayla was the killer, just as Travers had suggested. No wonder Myrren didn’t want to believe the truth. The knowledge made her soften her tone, albeit slightly.
‘Sorry if ya don’ like it, but it’s true. The only Nightshade blood in me is in the child I’m carrying.’
Myrren’s mouth set in a sceptical line. ‘So it’s just a coincidence, is it? That you look like one of us?’
‘O’ course not!’ Goaded,
Elisse bit back at him. ‘Ya bloody father chose me so that his bastard child would have the right colouring. I was as close as he could get ta a proper Nightshade – he told me so himself. He would o’ taken any girl who looked the leas’ little bit like one o’ the family, but I’m the one he happened ta stumble across.’ She took a long, difficult breath, and aimed every bit of sarcasm she could muster in Myrren’s direction. ‘Ya can be sure that made me feel really special.’
Myrren said nothing. Glaring across the table at him, she saw his hands shaking before he locked them tightly together. No doubt he was ashamed of his father, and so he should be. Bloody Nightshades! Elisse was sick of the whole cursed lot of them.
She was sick of them, but the child she was carrying tied her to them whether she liked it or not.
‘Elisse …’ That was Serenna, offering her a sympathetic smile – though a fat lot she could know about it, being a priestess. ‘I’m very sorry, but I think you’re going to have to tell us exactly what happened. We … we need to know what Captain Travers has been hiding all this time.’
Reluctant, Elisse glanced at Myrren, whose face mirrored her own emotion. After a moment, however, he looked up and gave an abrupt nod of agreement. Clearly he didn’t want to hear it, but was accepting it as a painful duty. Well, if he thought it was painful for him, how did he think she felt?
There was an expectant pause; they were waiting for her to speak. Fine. She’d tell them the story, and she hoped it choked them.
‘Ta start with it was jus’ talk,’ she said. ‘He’d show up now and then, chat ta me as I was doing my chores, asking me all kinds o’ questions. I thought it was strange, but … I s’pose I was flattered, too. I mean, I didn’ know who he was in them days – I didn’ know how rare my colouring was, ya see – but he was obviously someone important. I thought how nice it was, that a rich man like that found me interesting enough ta chat with.’ She felt her lips twist in a caustic smile. ‘Then, one day, everything changed.’
It was early autumn, but the air was still thick with summer’s heat. She’d been kneeling on the riverbank with her arms immersed up to the elbow, trying to get the stains out of the hem of her best winter dress, when she looked up to see him standing at the treeline on the opposite side of the river.
‘Shall I come over, Elisse?’ he called to her, gesturing at the stepping stones that lay half-submerged and slippery in a line between them. She straightened up, laughing.
‘Better watch ya step, sir!’ By then she’d fallen into the habit of thinking of him as a kind of surrogate father; after all, she had almost nothing on which to base her idea of what a father should be. ‘Ya wouldn’ wan’ ta spoil ya nice clothes.’
‘No chance of that,’ he told her, and crossed as nimbly and quickly as if he’d been using that particular set of stepping stones his whole life. Yet when he had nearly reached her, his heel came down on a smooth patch and he wobbled, holding out a pleading hand.
‘A little help, my dear?’
Still grinning, she left her laundry weighted down by a couple of rocks in the river and went to steady him. Yet somehow, as her fingers touched his, he moved back and it was she who lost her balance, sliding down the bank into his arms. He caught her against his chest, looking into her face; the sudden intensity in his eyes made her try to pull away, but his grip was unbreakable. Then his mouth came down on hers, hard and aggressive. She didn’t like it. She tried again to retreat, and this time he let her.
‘What’re ya doing?’ she gasped, trying to catch her breath.
‘What do you think I’m doing?’ It was said lightly, but the purpose was still in his face; it made her uneasy. ‘You can’t tease me all this time, Elisse, and then act so coy now.’
She knew she hadn’t been teasing. She should have run. But a moment of self-doubt left her hesitating, and in that moment he reached out again to grasp her shoulders.
‘I – I don’ think –’ she stammered, but he pulled her close.
‘Sssh. This is what I’m here for. You know that.’
He kissed her a second time, silencing her incoherent protests. And perhaps she was just being silly, she told herself. Perhaps it had always been obvious what he wanted from her, only she’d been too stupid to see it. After all, she liked him, didn’t she? Maybe that was enough. So she didn’t resist as he manoeuvred her into a lying position on the bank and slid his hands up her thighs beneath her thin summer skirt. She endured the discomfort as he pushed inside her, grinding the knobs of her spine against the rocky ground beneath. With the prickly softness of grass tickling her outflung hands and the rich smell of crushed earth in her nostrils, she watched his face above her and wondered what it was about this act that was so significant, so essential, that a man like him had to pursue it on a riverbank with a girl like her. And when it was over, he rewarded her with a self-satisfied smile.
‘You know, Elisse, in all the time we’ve known each other you’ve never once asked me my name.’
It was true: she’d always called him sir. Somehow it had never seemed her place to ask him questions. She mumbled something indistinct, and his smile widened.
‘My name is Florentyn Nightshade. And I want you to bear me an heir.’
Florentyn Nightshade. Then this man was the overlord of Darkhaven. This man was a Changer. This man had power over everyone in Mirrorvale; he had power over her. Elisse scrambled to her feet, tugging her crumpled skirt down over her bare thighs.
‘My lord – I –’
‘You may already be quickening,’ he said. ‘But I’d better visit you several more times, just to be sure.’
‘Don’t ya have an heir already?’ she asked, struggling to understand. A brooding expression settled on his face.
‘My existing children are … insufficient. I need an alternative, Elisse. Another chance at producing a true Nightshade child. And lacking any appropriate female of the blood, you’re the best I’ve got.’
Speechless, she stared at him. Gradually his dark look eased and he smiled at her once more.
‘Don’t worry, my dear. This will all work to your advantage. Once you’re carrying my child, I’ll give you every luxury you could possibly want. You’ll never have to work for a living again. And one day, if it’s born with the right gifts, your child might become overlord of Darkhaven. That’s a big step up in the world for a girl like you.’
He wasn’t saying anything about marriage, Elisse noticed. He seemed to assume that she would treat the whole thing as a business arrangement, for the sake of the advancement it would bring her. That was obviously what he expected of a girl like her. And why should he expect any different? She hadn’t struggled; she’d let him do what he wanted. Now she had to accept the consequences. With him being who he was, it wasn’t as though she had a choice.
‘Good,’ Florentyn said, correctly interpreting her silence as assent. ‘Then I’ll see you again very soon, my dear.’
And with that, the course of her life changed for good.
Elisse’s lips twisted again as she concluded her recitation. True to his word, Florentyn had come to her repeatedly over the next few weeks, bedding her in a host of awkward places out of sight of the farm. Believing his promises of luxury and grandeur, half convincing herself she was in love with him, she’d allowed it to happen – though she never grew to like it. And as soon as it had become apparent that she was pregnant, he’d bundled her up and carted her off to Arkannen.
‘It’s no’ like he forced it on me,’ she told Myrren now. ‘I wen’ along with it ’cos I thought he’d be able ta give me a better life. O’ course, as i’ turns out, I preferred the life I already had – but he wasn’ ta know that.’
‘And Captain Travers?’ Myrren asked faintly. ‘Where does he come into this?’
Elisse shrugged. ‘He’s the one who’s looked after me, mostly. There’s not many people who know I’m here or – or why.’ She lifted her head, meeting Myrren’s gaze without flinching. ‘He’s the one who war
ned me abou’ Lady Ayla. Tha’ she killed Florentyn, and tha’ maybe she’ll kill me too.’
‘On that front, Travers is sorely mistaken.’ Myrren’s voice was tight. ‘Ayla has no reason to hurt you.’
‘With respect, my lord, o’ course she has. Both o’ ya have.’ Elisse sat upright, made defiant by fear now that at last they were getting to the point. ‘This baby is Florentyn Nightshade’s baby – ya father’s baby – and it could grow up ta be a Changer. If it does, it could be a direct challenge ta ya position.’
To her surprise, Myrren’s tense face relaxed into a smile. ‘Believe me, Elisse, at this moment that’s the least of my worries. It will be fourteen years or more before we find out whether your child is a Changer, and longer still before he or she would pose any kind of threat to myself or Ayla.’ He exchanged glances with Serenna. ‘All the same, from now on I want you to stay here in Darkhaven. The child needs to grow up with its family, to learn about its heritage.’
I’m its family, Elisse thought, but she didn’t say it. Instead she asked, just to be sure, ‘So – so ya not going ta hurt the baby?’
‘There are few enough Nightshades in the world without destroying one of them,’ Myrren said. ‘I won’t hurt you or your baby. I just think it would be safer if you stayed within these walls.’
Yeah, right – but again she suppressed the retort that leapt to her lips. Because the funny thing was, although she had no reason to believe him, she couldn’t help but feel that Myrren was telling the truth. That he had no interest in hurting her. In which case, she probably would be safer in Darkhaven than anywhere else.
She just wished it felt less like a prison sentence.
TWENTY-ONE
Captain Travers aimed a razor-sharp glare at the physician who was hovering anxiously beside his bed.
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