“Master Lewis told me and Haf everything yesterday, and that we should prepare for you two to run off. Old git was right.” The trill in her Scottish accent made the words sing with brightness.
Tristan took the parchment. “Thank you.”
“Now go, before things worsen.”
Bowen mounted his horse, the reins clutched tightly in his fists. “Oh, something worse is definitely going to happen. To them.”
XXXIV.
We hit the mile marker of Cross Bridge, just off Aber-Giâr.
“Only another half-day’s ride and we will be there,” I heard from Finch who looked to the rest of his well-diminished company.
Where the hell is he even taking us?
I had been on this road before when going to Saint Davids, so I knew roughly where we were, but it could lead off to several different towns across the Welsh countryside. It also didn’t help that I was strapped down in a wagon, an immobilization spell restricting my movements and magic.
Since our departure from Saint Davids I had awoken several times, only to be rendered unconscious again. I could tell from how quickly Finch was recovering how far we had gotten, the effects slowly wearing off with each passing day; my magic hadn’t been strong enough to kill him, and I cursed myself for it. The boils and fever had broken two days ago and he was now able to walk without assistance.
“Finch, she’s up again,” Kolby shouted from next to me.
“Leave her, we are almost there, and we still have to perform her rite of passage.”
I tried to scream, only to remember they had also used a clamping charm on my mouth, fed up with my incessant cursing. When I had first woken I found one of their men groping my breasts. When he put his finger in my mouth I clamped my teeth down hard and hit bone.
“If I release the charm, do you promise you will not attack another of my men?” Finch walked casually next to me, a little dirty, but looking healthier.
Only if they agree not to touch me.
I tried to convey with a nod that I would try my best. With a flick of his hand, the charm broke and Finch could now make out every vulgar word that was coming out of my mouth.
“You fucking piece of shit!” I wriggled against the magical restraints. “Just wait until I get free. You’re gonna wish you’d killed me back there, you miserable cunt!”
Finch looked at me in surprise. “Why would I want to kill you? Oh, no, no, no,” he said in all sincerity.
If he didn’t want to kill me then what was all this for? “What then, torture? Make me watch as you boil small children?”
“My dear savior, what makes you think I would do anything of the sort?”
“Nothing you do would surprise me,” I spat, thinking of the many examples I had to fall back on. “Killing your own flesh and blood? Bowen’s kids—your niece and nephew?” That hit a nerve. I could practically see the effects of the invisible slap I had just inflicted.
“Do not speak of what you do not know!” he shot back, shaking with rage.
I couldn’t help but push further. “You killed them! How was it to watch them burn and scream? To do nothing!”
“I was under orders!” he shouted, his face white.
There it is.
“So there is a puppeteer after all?” Now I was the one with the sadistic smile. Finch clamped his mouth shut so hard it looked as if it sent a pain through the nerve endings of his teeth. “And who, might I ask, is this wonderful benefactor?”
I wasn’t prepared for the answer.
“The Prince of Wales,” Badrick shot back. He was average height, his red beard braided and twisted artistically. A hefty axe was strapped across his back, a pitcher of ale sloshing around in his hand.
“Badrick, shut it!” Finch almost punched him in the face.
Holy shit! Holy shit!
“What does it matter if she knows?” Badrick countered. “She will not be able to do anything about it, especially not after the rite of passage.”
The what?
“It is not for you to decide such matters.”
“Aye, sorry, Milord,” Badrick bowed from the waist exaggeratedly, “I’ll just keep to myself then.” He beat his horse’s behind to move it towards the front of the group, the pitcher surprisingly steady in his hand.
“Which royal is he?” My knowledge of the royal casting system was limited, but putting a name to the demon would be helpful. It seemed Finch didn’t believe he could keep the information hidden any longer, and with a sigh, replied:
“Edward of Woodstock.”
Edward of Woodstock… Where do I know that name…
“We are almost to Llanbeder. Not far now. You will be meeting him there.” Finch was trying to scare me, but it wasn’t working. “Though he does not believe as wholeheartedly in the prophecy as I do, he is still willing to take the chance and act upon it.”
“Llanbeder?”
“Aye, or as most call it, Lampeter.” Kolby took a swig from his flask. I hadn’t acknowledged his presence the whole ride, his movements too silent for me to follow.
“Did you say Lampeter?” I burst out laughing. Tears of crazed laughter sprung to my eyes at the astronomical coincidence Fate had presented to me, catching everyone off guard. “Oh, that is rich. It will end where it first started.”
“What do you mean?” Kolby asked.
“I mean when I first came to Wales, I lived in Lampeter. And now you bring me back here… To what? I don’t even know. What I do know is that this is hilarious.” Finch didn’t react how I thought he would. Actually, I’m not even sure how he should have reacted, but maybe not like this. He smiled. It wasn’t scary or sadistic, but full of pure joy. If anything it actually made me feel even more uncomfortable.
“I chose the spot carefully. Of course I did not have this information at the time, but that just makes it all the better.” He came to stand closer to the cart. “Lampeter’s fort sits atop Norman land. There is little in the way of its trade, mostly cattle and sheep. It is the perfect spot if you want seclusion and privacy.”
True in both eras. Though Lampeter in my time was abundant with shops and restaurants, it really was its own bubble, stranded in the heart of South Wales.
“Well, I must get back to the head position. Rest, Milady, as tomorrow we shall be in Lampeter and I believe the toll will weigh greatly upon you.” He held his hand above my face and slowly I could feel my eyes getting heavy with sleep.
“Jade, wake up, sweetheart.”
I could hear Mom’s voice breaking through my unconsciousness. The smell of pancakes wafted through my room at home in California as Dad was downstairs whipping up his famous batch.
“Hey, Mom. What time is it?”
“Just after ten. You need to get up or you’re going to miss the ceremony.” She pulled back my curtains, but instead of blinding sunlight, there was pitch darkness.
“What ceremony?”
Dad walked in with my breakfast tray. “Come on, pumpkin, I know you’re nervous, but you’re gonna do great. We’ll be watching from the balcony.”
“What are you guys talking about?”
I looked down at my tray expecting there to be the usual pancakes with a side of bacon, but instead I found something much more peculiar. A dagger.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I said, picking it up.
Mom came over and took it from me. “You’ll know when you need it.”
I opened my eyes and found myself in an unfamiliar room. It was just like any other I had stayed in over the past six months, with the addition of a hooded black robe that hung by the bedside table. When I stood up, the weight of a plain black dress with silk sleeves cut into my wrists and clung heavily to me. My dagger belt had gone unchecked, content they hadn’t figured out its housing of small knives, and was strapped against my stomach, cinching the dress
in place. Taking a closer look, the robe fitted perfectly onto the shoulders of the dress, like the prefect accessory.
They don’t really think I’m going to wear this?
Before I was able to take stock of my surroundings Finch opened the door.
“Good morning,” he said with a gayness that made my skin crawl, “did we sleep well?”
I said nothing as I stared at him, face blank.
“Very well then, how about breakfast? His Highness has arrived and will be wanting to meet you.” He tried to move to my side but I backed away, the folds of the dress trailing behind me. “Ah. Do you like the dress? I picked it out myself and I do say, it suits you.” His eyes settled on the belt, his mouth puckering at the fashion faux pas, but left the matter. I cringed at the compliment. I didn’t want anyone to dress me up and play with me like their personal doll, especially not him.
“When am I to meet the prince?” I asked without emotion. I hadn’t had much time to plan what I would do to him.
“Later today, when we are to perform your rite of passage.”
“What is that?”
“You will find out. In the meantime, your ladies’ maids will come with breakfast.” I could barely contain my revulsion, the dream still fresh in my mind. I felt queasy and had to sit forward on the bed. “Until then.” He bowed and left me.
At once I started rummaging through the nightstand’s drawers, looking for anything I could use. By the time I had finished searching the whole room all I had was a broken quill with no inkwell, a couple of dandelion seeds, dried droppings from whatever animal had left them, and a piece of dingy cloth.
I heard the latch on the door and ran to lay down on the bed, shutting my eyes.
“Do you know what they say about her?” I heard one of the maid’s whisper as she set down my breakfast tray, oblivious to my conscious state. “That Finch himself will be performing the spell.”
“How is that legal?” the other asked more loudly. There was a pause in their conversation, making sure I was actually asleep before they continued.
“Apparently, His Highness is giving special permission,” one whispered.
“I heard it got banned because whomever was controlling the Duke of Southampton went absolutely insane and made him kill his entire bloodline.”
“I heard the same rumor. That his will was taken away. Left him absolutely helpless, like a shell of himself.”
The other agreed. “Poor girl, to have to go through that. What a shame.” Their talk faded as they made their way out.
My eyes flew open. I now understood what Finch and everyone else had been talking about: the rite of passage. I thought it was some sort of hippie ritual I would have to go through, not a freaking procedure to strip me of my will and force me to do their bidding!
Alright Jade, if you were trying to get help what would you do?
I thought of all the usual useless things like calling the police or jumping out the window, both impossible feats as the closest thing to the police was the Royal Guard (who were employed by the prince) and the second choice doubly impossible as the only windows in the room were barely big enough for me to fit my head through.
Maybe calling for help wouldn’t be a bad idea…
I tried to call my magic wanting to send my thoughts through the wind to Bowen or Tristan who were rash enough to not be far behind, but the spell fizzled out too quickly. Finch had obviously lifted my immobilization spell but left my magic under lock. I tested my magic’s limit once more.
Only enough for the rudimentary stuff.
Taking one of the small daggers from my belt, I prepared myself as I rolled up my sleeve and placed it against the skin of my forearm. In my mind’s eye I pictured Bowen’s face, the roughness of his beard and wave of his hair, how the skin around his eyes crinkled slightly when he truly wore a smile. And his lips… I could see them pulled up at the corners.
Without hesitation, I plunged the tip into my arm. It hurt like a mother, but it was the only thing I could think to do. The processes was slow, trying to make the letters legible enough and precise enough that he would understand where he needed to go: Lampeter, Prince of Wales here, HURRY!
For the last step I placed my hand over the message and taking my time, built up as much magic as possible, to the point of dizziness, then chanted a transportation spell to switch the words to his arm. It would hurt him, I knew, but it was the only way to get my message out.
Bowen felt white-hot pain on his forearm and saw that blood had seeped through his shirt.
Tristan came to ride next to him. “You are bleeding,” he obviously pointed out.
Bowen quickly rolled up his sleeve to find that there were tiny scratches embedded in his skin. “Lampeter, Prince of Wales here, HURRY!” he stared intently at his arm. “She’s in Lampeter. With the prince…” He didn’t know she knew that spell, one that not even the most desperate of soldiers would have used if they were to be captured. It required a steady mind and hand, her resolve to get them this message evident.
I’m coming, Jade.
“We are only a half-day’s ride behind; we should be there before night’s appearance,” Tristan assured him.
Both whipped their horses to go faster.
XXXV.
Janet
Janet sat at the round table in Bowen’s library like she did every evening. Dave had gone away on a business trip again, leaving her to her thoughts.
“It’s already May.” She turned to find Arthur standing there with her glass of wine. Over the past months he had been her closest friend, making sure she had everything she did and didn’t need.
“I know,” she signed heavily with impatience. “She’s supposed to be back by now.”
“The master did not say it would be soon.” He handed her the glass and she swirled its contents around.
“He hasn’t said anything. Just that she will be back.”
“It is a tricky business, time travel.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Despite trying, she still couldn’t wrap her head around the idea. She had known when they had first met Jade what she was, but the whole predicament was unbelievable.
Done with the conversation, she walked to the other side of the house and made herself more comfortable in one of the greenhouse’s chairs. Gloria was there spritzing the plants, their bright flowers and green leaves surpassing any botanical garden. Janet didn’t know the names of them, their foreign beauty needing no knowledge to acknowledge them.
“Have you finished grading papers?” Gloria asked once she sat down. Janet had taken to freelancing jobs while in Wales, trying to keep busy instead of lounging around, going stir-crazy, and with it being finals week she was busier than ever.
“With as much as I have to do… I can’t concentrate.”
Gloria nodded in understanding. “But it will help keep your mind off the subject at hand.”
Janet sipped at her wine. The whole household knew what was happening, why she and Dave had been living in Wales, but it didn’t make the situation any easier.
“How are the twins?” Janet asked, trying diverge from the ever-present subject of Jade.
“Matty and Rhys are fine. Matty just got his license. God rest anyone who gets in his way when he’s behind the wheel.” Her quiet laughter echoed against the glass walls.
Janet could see the crow’s feet that had started to show around her eyes. She must have a happy life.
Janet took another sip out of her glass, absentmindedly noting that it was Venetian crystal.
“Dinner is ready,” Arthur announced.
Straining to move, Gloria pulled herself to her feet and set the bottle of water on the table next to Janet. “Cheer up. She’ll be home soon.”
Janet very much doubted it, the hope of her daughter’s return dwindling every day. They moved into the dini
ng room where she found her husband sitting at the long table.
“Hi, darling.” He rose to kiss his wife on the cheek, then sat back down.
“You’re back?” She could smell a whiff of tobacco surrounding him but said nothing. It was a stressful time.
“Wanted to make sure I was here in case Jade showed up. Will Bowen be joining us?” Dave asked as Arthur served the salad.
“Not tonight, sir. He is preoccupied with his brother at the moment.”
“Ah, how’s that going?”
Arthur paused before replying. “Slow.”
XXXVI.
“Rise and shine!”
I hadn’t noticed I had fallen asleep when Finch burst into my room. He had changed his clothes to nicer ones. Not that it really mattered when they were hidden under his light black cloak. The month of May had made the season warmer, but not by much.
“Oh, you did not eat.”
I looked at the cold gruel that stayed stuck to the tray. “Wasn’t hungry.”
“Oh, but you will need your strength for the coming hours. His Highness would like to see you now.”
I knew exactly what he really meant. “Don’t you mean you want to strip me of my will and make me kill all those who defy the Brotherhood?” That stopped him short. His face went from joyful to hostile in two seconds.
“Who told you?”
“The walls have voices and the air whispers to me,” I said dramatically.
He didn’t appreciate it. He was close enough now that I could smell his putrid lunch of cooked chicken. Before he had the chance to reply my hand shot out to blindside him. He must have been prepared for resistance because he deflected it easily at the wave of his hand, tipping my body to the other direction.
“You are not going to make this easy, are you?”
“I never agreed to those terms,” I shot back.
“Oh I know. That is why we must perform the rite of passage, otherwise, how are you to rid the world of all magic?”
“What?” I hadn’t expected that. I knew that was their end game, but to use me to do it?
To Those Who Never Knew (A Monksblood Bible Novel Book 1) Page 25
