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Nobody's Lady

Page 22

by Amy McNulty


  “I told you—”

  He waved a hand. “I know. You don’t. Not like that. Not anymore. Well, maybe I’m tired of loving where love isn’t wanted.”

  “So you killed Ailill? Because I didn’t love you?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Siofra placed a hand on my shoulder. “He didn’t mean to, Noll. It was such a mess. They were all trying to get Jaron away from you. To rescue you. You weren’t coming up, and we were worried you’d hit your head.”

  I choked. “But why did you bring your sword into the water?”

  Jurij’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t thinking. I just saw a chance to save you. I dove in.”

  I shook my head. “You launched up with the blade extended. Were you trying to kill me? Jaron?” I paused. “Why did all of you get swords at all? Who were you going to harm with them?”

  Jurij clenched his jaw. The flames may have been gone, but his eyes burned with their own fire, glistening from the red glow of the pool. “The lord and his servants,” he answered after a moment’s hesitation. “If it came to that.”

  He brushed past his mother and me, moving down the path to the entrance and disappearing into the darkness.

  ***

  There was no sign of Jurij, the Tailors, or any of my friends. Everyone’s plan to calm me down by keeping me back in the cavern a while longer, while the lot of them ran away with their tails between their legs, seemed to have worked.

  But they couldn’t hide from me forever. Not if they didn’t know there was a place beyond the mountains. Besides, they never got the answers they sacrificed so much to find.

  And if some “they” watching us beyond the mountains wanted to punish people who knew about their existence, then that was fine with me. Ailill had told me the gold coin saved me, marked me as one fit for ruling. But I wasn’t imagining things when the red light in the pool held me paralyzed as the blade approached. I was done trying to protect them. I was done trying to protect myself.

  As Marden and Roslyn broke through the last of the trees and bushes to the path that ran through the forest, I fingered my sash. The golden coin was still there.

  “Noll?” asked Mother, her arm around my back. I took another step forward.

  “His carriage is still here!” exclaimed Marden. “No horses, though.”

  I froze.

  Elfriede stopped at my side, reaching out a hand. “Noll—”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, waving her away. “Just leave me be.”

  Elfriede looked hesitant, but Mother let me go and wove her arm through Elfriede’s, gently tugging her away. “Come see us when you’re ready, Noll. We have … mournings to arrange.”

  They joined Roslyn and Marden on the path toward the village, leaving me beside the carriage. The first light of dawn trickled through the leaves above me.

  As if I could forget that I’d lost both Father and Ailill. As if I could forget the lord’s smile as he vanished from my arms, leaving me before I could say what it was I truly wanted to say.

  But this time, at least, he hadn’t vanished from existence. The clothes. The carriage. Even the castle might still be standing. This time, I wouldn’t be the only one who knew him.

  I lurched forward, leaning against the open carriage doorframe to keep from collapsing. I looked at the emptiness inside for what felt like forever, taking in the blackness of everything, the memories both painful and longing. There was one thing that wasn’t black. A book with open pages.

  I dragged myself inside the carriage, crawling on hands and knees. I held on to the jerkin even as I picked up the book, dragging it over my lap.

  I saw myself, sitting on a carriage seat, looking down at a book on my lap. My fist still clutched the jerkin to my chest.

  The ink smeared as tears dripped onto the page. But the water quickly dried and the ink was smooth, only to be drowned again and again.

  The book grew hot in my lap, and the back glowed bright with violet light.

  With wavering fingers, I turned the pages to the source of the light. My other hand clutched the leather so hard my wound reopened and my finger bled. But I kept clutching. I kept willing myself to breathe.

  A half-formed page wound out of nothingness, fibers in the paper as clear as thread stitching, only without the needles. When at last the page was complete, the light faded, and I was left staring at a blank, yellowing page, one that seemed as old as the rest of them, even if I’d just witnessed its creation.

  It was the castle throne room, complete with that hole in the wall where the throne should have been. The throne was already pushed aside.

  Out stepped man after man after man. Their hands clutched behind their backs, their faces so similar, their ages varied, although most were older, far older-looking than one would think could walk so upright. They filed out of the hole and off the page. I counted. A hundred and four … a hundred and five.

  And that last specter’s face was young, perhaps in his twenties. He paused, and I saw Ailill, my Ailill staring out at me.

  My fingers traced over his form. His jerkin wasn’t colored in black ink. It had to be white. My Ailill was a specter.

  He stepped aside, and behind him came another specter. No. His face was dark, shaded lightly with ink that only gave an impression of color against the yellow of the page. His clothing was even darker, the blackness of night, like the jerkin I held tight in my hand. And he looked younger. Not as young as the Ailill I’d known many years in the past. But a man newly grown. Seventeen, perhaps, just a little more life to his eyes, just a little more roundness to his cheeks.

  And on his arm, he wore a bangle.

  Acknowledgements

  You’d think after the length of the acknowledgements in the first book, I’d have thanked everyone I know by now. The second verse is much like the first, but it’s worth saying again.

  Thank you to the staff and contractors at Month9Books. Georgia McBride for believing in my story and acquiring it for her imprint, and for working hard to make that imprint go places, which means my books are out there in front of more readers. Thank you, Jaime Arnold, for always answering my questions promptly and for marketing the heck out of our books along with the rest of the publicity staff. Thank you, Bethany Robison, for your great suggestions and amazing work on my manuscript—and for keeping all those details straight from book one to book two. Annie Cosby, thank you for your keen editing eye and your sharp insight. Thank you, Jennifer Million, for keeping everything organized.

  A big shout-out to my fellow Month9Books and Swoon Romance YA authors, with whom I’ve grown closer online over the past year as we share tips and support. It was wonderful to meet a few of you in person at BookCon 2015. Thank you, too, to the #WO2016 group of authors, whom I can rely on for encouragement, advice and some pretty awesome Twitter chats, and the #WIPMarathon members who’ve cheered me on for three years now. Writing and marketing is a lot more fun with all of you!

  Thanks as always to Melissa Giorgio, my beta reader, best friend, and fellow YA author. You’re always the first to read my work, and I appreciate everything you do to support me, from reading to tagging along to my signing to passing out promotional materials to your friends.

  Thank you, Cameron, my partner of over a decade, for always believing in me and being so proud of my work. I’m so happy you support me at every turn!

  Thank you, Mom, Sara, and Anthony, for continuing to be cheerleaders for my work. I feel so lucky to have had so many fans right from the start.

  And last but not least—thank you so much to my readers! I’ve appreciated every comment or email I’ve received from you, and I feel humbled you’ve come back to read more of Noll’s story. I can only write because of your support!

  Amy McNulty

  Amy McNulty is a freelance writer and editor from Wisconsin with an honors degree in English. She was first published in a national scholarly journal (The Concord Review) while in high school and curre
ntly writes professionally about everything from business marketing to anime. In her down time, you can find her crafting stories with dastardly villains and antiheroes set in fantastical medieval settings.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Other Month9Books Titles You Might Like

 

 

 


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