26
Clarisant
Katy stayed frozen in place until she was sure Saraid was gone. Then she sprinted to the door. As soon as she was out of the room, she paused only to recall where the stables were. Her hands burned as she ran, but for once, her need to escape went much deeper than the power that threatened to break loose from within.
If she didn’t get a breath of fresh air, she might lose her sanity completely.
The stable boy looked on in confusion as she threw a saddle on the horse she’d ridden the day before. He protested as she sent the creature flying out of the stables, but Katy didn’t stop or even hesitate. The sound of the horse’s hooves clattering against the cobblestone streets was music to her ears as she pressed the beast forward. At first she thought she might stop on the moor again and allow herself to wander. As soon as she had left the great palace gates behind, though, she knew the moor wouldn’t be far enough.
Once outside the city, the same wild air beckoned to her as it had the day she’d left Downing, but for once, Katy didn’t fight it. Instead, she threw her head back, closed her eyes, and breathed it in deeply. The human world had never welcomed her so willingly. She might as well take the open arms where they lay. Then she sent her horse flying on again.
What little remained of her senses told her that Peter would not be happy with her at all if he found out she had gone into the woods without him. But Peter wasn’t here. And the call of the wild had never been so strong.
Eventually, however, she had to allow her poor horse to rest, so Katy climbed down and walked beside him. That’s when she recognized the trees through which she walked. Without realizing where she was going, Katy had returned to the thicket. She needed to see the waterfall one more time.
She only wanted to remember that there were once other creatures like her. She wouldn’t touch it. The waterfall had obviously not wanted her there the day before, and Katy wouldn’t make her uncomfortable again without reason. She just needed to see.
Once again, Katy tied the horse to a nearby tree where it could drink from a little brook. When he was taken care of, she went to lean against the trunk of a tree and stare into the clearing.
Sure enough, the purple light was barely visible through the tightly wound branches of the thicket.
“You can go in if you want.”
Katy whirled around to find a familiar gray-hooded figure leaning against a tree about twenty feet away.
He straightened and took a slow step toward her. “I can show you...if you want.”
Katy stood rooted to the spot, not sure whether she should fight or fly. So she listened instead.
He stopped walking. “You’re afraid.”
Katy found herself nodding faintly.
The stranger raised his hands. Katy jumped, but when she did, he froze. “I promise,” he said in a low voice. “I mean no harm. I only wish to help.”
“Like on the mountain,” she whispered.
The part of his mouth that was visible from beneath the hood gave a small smile. “I was hoping you’d come back.”
“You...” Katy licked her suddenly dry lips. “You were watching us? Yesterday?”
“The forest is my home.” He spread his arms. “I’m always curious as to what happens on its borders. But it’s not every day that a prince and a beautiful woman venture into its depths. Can you blame me for being curious?”
“I suppose not.” Katy tried to raise her voice above a whisper. “But you’ve been watching us for longer than that.”
The stranger took a few steps forward again until they were nearly close enough to reach out and brush fingers. He was shorter than Katy had expected from farther back, but even beneath the gray cloak, Katy could tell that he was not a small man by any means.
“I’ve been watching you a long time,” he said. “Waiting for you, actually.”
“Why?”
“Do you think it’s every day that a child of magic is taken in by the brother of a king? And, if I’m being honest, it gets a bit lonely out here, what with our kind being exiled and all.”
Our kind. Katy’s heart leapt and fell at the same time, making her next words difficult to utter. “So you know what I am?”
“I do.” He gestured to the thicket. “But I think you should see for yourself.”
“I visited her yesterday. She wouldn’t tell me.”
“That’s because a man was there.” He let out a low chuckle. “Do you think the forest creatures are likely to trust a descendent of the man who tried to wipe them from existence? Not that he would do the same!” he added in a rush as Katy opened her mouth to defend Peter. “But how is the forest and its inhabitants to know that? She’ll see you now, I promise.”
Katy glanced back at the thicket. Everything in her wanted to venture inside, to place her hand in the purple waters and see what she had always longed to know.
But what then? What if she was an olc? Or something worse? Then she would have to tell Peter, and if his uncle didn’t kill her first, she would need to flee and never look back.
Was she capable of that?
She would have to be. If she was an olc, then her very existence would put the entire city in danger. If she was an olc, and Peter somehow convinced her to stay, she could very well end up doing far more harm than accidentally burning his arms. She could be his doom. The book in the annals had been clear about that.
Katy somehow managed a nod, despite her trembling. Peter wanted to protect her, but after all he had given up and risked for her sake, she owed it to him to find the truth. She owed it to the kingdom full of babes and children and those whom she had never met who deserved to live.
The hooded figure walked slowly to the clearing, careful, it seemed, not to make any sudden moves, and she was grateful. Power emanated from him. She could feel it in the same way she had felt the waterfall. She paused on the threshold of the little thicket, recalling all the times she’d felt a familiar sensation near the forest in Downing. “You’ve been watching me for a long time, haven’t you?”
He didn’t remove his hood, but she could see him smiling again, a little more confidently this time. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time, Clarisant.”
Katy frowned at him. “Clarisant?”
But he only smiled again and pointed to the entrance. “Come see for yourself.”
Katy entered, but not without cringing at the thought of what Peter would say if he could see what she was doing. He might have a heart attack if he saw her with...whoever this creature was. But then, Peter was not her mother, and she was doing this for him. For the kingdom. He would simply have to live with the outcome of her decisions. Because this was her decision and no one else’s.
That felt strangely good to say in her head.
The stranger began to kneel at the side of the pool, but then he turned, and though she couldn’t see his eyes, she could feel his stare. After seeming to hesitate, he stood and went back to the entrance. “I think this is something you should see alone.”
“How do you know?” She frowned down at the purple water.
“You’re not an animal in a cage to be watched. What you are about to see will change your life. You deserve the privacy of experiencing it as such.”
“Thank you,” Katy breathed as he stepped outside. She sent up a quick prayer that he wouldn’t steal her horse or set the thicket on fire while she was inside, then she focused on the water. “You seemed intent on ridding the forest of me yesterday. How should today be any different?”
The waterfall sighed. “It is as he said, little one. Those like us cannot be too careful around the prince of man. I feared for you.”
“So you will show me then?”
“Touch my waters and see.”
With her heart pounding in her ears, Katy hesitated for only a moment before dipping her fingers into the water. Immediately, she sucked in a sharp breath. But the feeling of her power moving out of her was a welcome one, much to her surprise. All of
the pent-up frustration that had set her fingers burning was immediately gone.
“My, you are a strong one, aren’t you?” the waterfall murmured. “But pardon me. We have work to do.” And with that, the light dimmed and the sheet of mist formed before her.
Katy gasped as two winged beings materialized on the water. “I’m confused. Peter’s memories went backwards. Are those my...?”
“I cannot answer what I do not know, only see what your mind shows me. It’s different for everyone.”
Katy watched in awe as the man and woman huddled together, smiling and weeping at the same time. They cooed and spoke words of love and gentleness Katy had never imagined before, but it all blended into one blurry picture in her head. Her parents. Her real parents had loved her.
“What are those marks on their faces? And...are those...wings?” she asked, wiping the tears that were flowing freely down her cheeks.
“They are native to your kind.”
“My kind?”
“My dear, don’t you know?” The waterfall paused, the faces of her parents frozen in the mist before her. “You’re an olc.”
Katy didn’t recall jumping to her feet or stumbling out the thicket door. Nor did she remember clumsily trying to untie her horse’s reins. She only paused when the hooded stranger ran up to her side and put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped at first, but when he left it there, she realized she desperately wanted to cling to it as she wept.
“What’s the matter?” His low voice was urgent. “You shouldn’t even be halfway done by now.”
But Katy just shook her head and leaned against her horse, her throat too tight for words. She should have known. Or maybe she had. Ever since she had killed the strawberry plant, deep down, Katy had known.
“What did you find out?” he said, his hand still on her shoulder.
“I should have known,” she gasped between sobs. “It was obvious.”
“Known what?” Then he drew in a quick breath. “You mean about being olc?”
Katy could only nod as she cried even harder.
The stranger took her hands, ignoring her as she tried to shake him off. “Please! Just listen to me! Before you go, just for a moment!”
Katy had no desire to listen to him. She had no desire to do anything but lose herself in the woods and never look back. Still, she finally stopped crying long enough to listen when he didn’t release her.
“I don’t know what they told you about us, but the humans have it all wrong!” He was nearly smiling for some reason. “The truth has been lost over the last four hundred years! We are not what they think!”
“And how would you know this?” She pouted, still sniffling, staring stubbornly at the dry leaves beneath their feet.
“Because I’ve been to the other isles.”
Katy looked up, and suddenly she wished he would remove his hood so she could see his eyes. Was he telling the truth? Could his eyes lie about something as important as that? “Truly?” she whispered.
“Truly!” He was whispering, too, but his mouth was curved up into a smile. “And I have seen more wonderful things than you could ever imagine.”
“Can you tell me?”
He just smiled and shook his head. “Not here. The knights are in another part of the forest already.” He turned his head and listened for a long moment. “I...I suppose you’re going back to the palace after this?”
For one mad moment, Katy considered saying no. But then she pictured Peter coming back with not even a letter to answer his questions. It would hurt him more deeply than she wished to imagine. So she nodded.
“I thought so.” Was it just her, or did he sound disappointed? He had believed that she might go with him? Still, he kept his voice steady, even if resigned. “If you wish then, I’ll tell you later. Do you still have the whistle?”
Katy nodded. She’d kept it safely stashed on her person since he’d given it to her. The intent had never been to use it, of course, but now that she knew the truth, she really wasn’t sure.
“Call me anytime on that whistle,” he said as he let go of her shoulder and began to turn away. But then he paused. “I promise that anytime you use it, I will be there.”
And in a moment, he was gone.
27
A Thousand Voices
“Katy?” Peter knocked on her door again. “Katy, I can hear you in there. Why won’t you answer me?”
Finally, the door clicked open.
Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hair stuck out in every direction from where it had been neatly pinned, he guessed, sometime during the day.
“Yes?” she croaked, staying hidden behind the door, only her face and shoulders peeking out.
Peter sighed. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when my training session for some of the squires was nearly finished, a stableboy came running up to me.”
Her eyes fell to the ground. “Oh.”
“He thought I should know that the pretty lady I brought to the castle had stolen a horse.”
She stared at the ground. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” The door began to close, but Peter stuck his boot inside so it couldn’t shut.
“Do you think I’m upset about the horse? Really, Katy! I want to know what’s wrong with you. Why didn’t you come to luncheon? Or supper?”
She didn’t answer.
“Can I at least come inside and talk?”
“I don’t think that would be wise.” She glanced out at the hall. “Someone might see. Besides, it’s not proper.”
“Since when have you been concerned about propriety?” He couldn’t even count the number of times she’d tackled him as a child and then sat on him to celebrate her victory. “Did something happen?” Understanding filled him when her eyes flicked back inside the room, new guilt darkening her face even more.
“Do I need to send someone in to clean up?” he asked more gently.
Her lip quivered. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. Servants talk.”
Of course. He should have known. Peter ran his hand through his short hair. “I’ll speak to Muirin. Her lady-in-waiting will be able to help.”
He thought she would object to this idea immediately, but to his surprise, she finally nodded and tried to close the door again. “Thank you.”
“Wait now! I’m not done!” He leaned down. “Would you please tell me what’s wrong? I can’t fix this unless I know!”
For the first time, she met his eyes, and he was taken aback by their emptiness. The circles below her eyes had circles of their own, and any sign of the spark he knew so well was gone.
“Saraid was right,” she whispered.
“Right about what?”
“Me. You. Everything. I’m dangerous, Peter. And not just to the kingdom, but to you, too!” She glanced down at his arm.
Out of habit, Peter’s hand shot up to roll his sleeve down farther. Only after it was done did he realize he had just confirmed her fears. “I told you, that was my—”
“I can’t do this anymore.” She shook her head, a lock of dark hair falling in front of her eyes.
Peter had to resist moving it out of the way. For some reason, he got the feeling she would like that even less, much as he wanted to use it as an excuse to touch her in some way. It felt wrong to just stand there like a dolt and watch her cry. “What can’t you do?”
“Keep pretending everything is well when it’s not.” She took a deep, shaky breath. When she spoke again, her voice was calmer, more resolute. Unfortunately, that made her next words even more terrifying.
“You’ve chosen Saraid. She’s a strong, capable woman, and the Third Isle will benefit from her oversight. I hope your union brings you the same kind of joy you feel when you watch the sun rise from the platform.” She smiled as tears ran down her face. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to think.” And with that, she kicked his boot out of the way and slammed the door shut.
Peter st
ared at the closed door for a long time. What had just happened? Confusion made his stomach curl, but fast on the heels of the confusion was a surprising amount of anger. Turning away from her door, he stomped all the way up to his cousin’s chambers. Only after he’d taken out his frustration on the door did he remember that she was sick and with child.
If he didn’t manage to upset every woman in his life before nightfall, it would be a gift of Atharo.
Agnes opened the door, scowling. “Is the castle under attack, sire, or are you just being inconsiderate of her ladyship’s condition?”
Peter almost smiled. Her ability to see past his title was one of his favorite things about the little woman. “I’m afraid I must plead guilty to the latter. Is Muirin well enough to see me?”
“I’ll have you know, sire, that—”
“Agnes,” a woman’s voice called from inside the room, “is that Peter?”
“Yes, your ladyship.”
“Send him in.”
Agnes huffed and pulled the door open just wide enough for Peter to step through. Peter breathed a little sigh of relief as he walked in and momentarily basked in the tranquility of the room. Soft blues of every shade covered the room, from the many carpets spread across the floor to the bedcovers to the upholstered chairs to the curtains and even the canopy floating above the giant bed. Even more satisfying than the peaceful room, however, was seeing his cousin sitting up on her own and eating herbed bread from a little plate.
“I’m sorry for the ruckus,” he said. “I suppose I got carried away.”
“I’m not surprised,” she said, putting her plate down and giving him a little smile. “You were fairly prone to tantrums as a small boy, too.”
“You remember that? I was hardly two when we moved to Downing.”
The Autumn Fairy (The Autumn Fairy Trilogy Book 1) Page 18
