by Shae Ford
She wiggled her toes, and Nadine lost the fight against her smile. She shoved Kyleigh’s feet away. “Such insolence. I should have let the Grandmot split you open.”
Kyleigh was about to retort when a familiar smell drew her eyes to the wall behind Nadine. She stared into the shadows, breathing in. The scent crept up on her, burning her nostrils like the spice of desert rice.
“Care for a swim, Elena?” she said to a patch of shadow that she thought looked suspicious. And to her delight, she guessed correctly.
Elena sauntered out of the darkness. She pulled down her mask, revealing the disappointed look underneath. “How do you know? How do you always know?” she muttered as she sat at the water’s edge.
“I just get lucky,” Kyleigh said.
Though she hated to admit it, Elena was turning out to be quite a useful ally. Her uncanny stealth and affinity for the shadows meant that she could lurk around nearly every corner of the motlands without being spotted, and she could turn any crevice into a hiding spot. She’d once dropped down from the ceiling and nearly frightened Silas out the window.
“I hope you have stopped your stealing,” Nadine said, with a stern look at Elena. She brushed the wet hair from her neck, and Kyleigh noticed that she wore a ring on every finger of her right hand. They had thick, silver bands and were slightly pointed at their tops — which made her think they were more for cracking skulls than decoration.
Elena ignored her look. She drew a dagger from its sheath and spun it on its point. “I promised that I wouldn’t steal from the farmers again, and I haven’t.”
Shortly after Elena arrived, crops began disappearing from their fields — along with pelts, various bits of weaponry, and several rolls of silk. Kyleigh suspected that she’d been building a nest somewhere in the depths of the tunnels, where she wouldn’t have to put up with Silas.
The mots weren’t pleased when they discovered that their possessions had gone missing, and they turned to the Grandmot for justice. That sly, feather-sporting fox had pinned the whole thing on Silas — declaring that cats were known to steal things, and that the mots should’ve known better than to let a thief into their lands. Poor Nadine had no choice but to slaughter one of her nanny goats and distribute its meat in payment.
After that, Elena had promised to stop stealing. But nobody really trusted her.
“What about the miners? Or the other warriors?” Nadine pressed. “You cannot just pick something out of a garden every time you are hungry. Come back to my home, and I will be happy to feed you.”
“I promise I haven’t stolen from any of the little people,” Elena said shortly. Then she looked up, and there was laughter in her eyes as she added: “I’ve only been stealing from the Grandmot.”
Nadine gasped.
“Well, then — that settles it,” Kyleigh said, leaning back against the bath.
“That settles nothing!” Nadine brought her fist down, and Elena had to roll to the side to avoid getting hit by the splash. “You do not understand how serious this is. If you are caught, I will have no power to defend you.”
Elena nodded, as if she understood. “Why does the Grandmot hate you?”
That was another of Elena’s surprising virtues. She didn’t seem to mind asking the questions nobody else would — because everybody else seemed to understand that some things were private. Elena, however, was often as blunt as her knives were sharp.
Nadine’s mouth parted in surprise. “I did something I should not have done,” she finally said. Her eyes were firm, but her voice wavered. “There was a time when I was an honored warrior among the mots. But when our people needed me most, I forgot my duties. I betrayed them. The Grandmot stripped me of my rank, and she was right to do so — where are you going?”
But Elena slunk into the darkness without an explanation. Her armor melded with the shadows, hiding her from view. A moment later, they heard the soft patter of footsteps cutting through the bath chamber.
Nadine craned her neck over Kyleigh’s shoulder and her eyes widened. She leapt out of the bath so quickly that her feet hardly touched the ground. “What is it, child?”
Hessa rushed past the braziers. The yellow silk of her dress was wrinkled; strands of her dark hair had escaped their clasp. Nadine knelt, holding her arms open, and the little girl ran into her.
“I fell asleep — I had a nightmare,” Hessa gasped. Then she began to sob, adding to the wet on Nadine’s shoulder. Kyleigh climbed out of the bath and picked her dress up from the ground. She handed it to Nadine, who used the hem to dry Hessa’s tears.
She whispered in the singsong language of the mots, holding her tightly. The way she carried her words gave them a soothing rhythm, like the hum of a lullaby. When Hessa quieted, Nadine took her under the chin. “Now, tell me what you saw, child.”
“My dream was about you,” Hessa whispered. “I saw you standing on the shore of a great river, watching over your herd. Your goats drank happily from the waters for a moment. But whenever you turned away, a monster would rise up from the shallows and snatch one of your goats. He ate them all, one by one. I tried to call to you, to warn you, but …” she wiped miserably at her tears, “it was as if you could not hear me.”
Nadine smiled softly. “I always hear you, child. No matter how much stone lies between us, I hear you like a spring inside my heart.” She wrapped Hessa tightly in her arms once more. “But what you saw was only a dream: my goats are alive and safe. My servants watch over them for me. Now, go back to your chambers before the Grandmot misses you … she will not want to find you with me.”
Hessa pulled away reluctantly, and there was such heaviness in their parting that Kyleigh could hardly bear to watch. When she returned Kyleigh’s dress, their eyes met again.
The openness of Hessa’s gaze startled her. She didn’t guard her feelings, and she didn’t try to hide. Dozens of lines crossed out from her pupils, bursting like a star into the brown … and Kyleigh read the anguish in every one.
It was only after Hessa had gone that Kyleigh felt the wetness on her cheeks. She realized that she’d been crying. “Why do I get the feeling that Hessa is no ordinary little girl?” she said, quickly pulling her dress over her head.
Nadine gave her a long look. “You are right — she is far from ordinary. Now come, we have no time to waste.”
She strode across the chamber, pulling on her dress as she went. And Kyleigh followed at a trot. “Where are we going?”
“To check on my goats.” She paused just short of the door, out of the guards’ hearing, and whispered: “I learned long ago to heed Hessa’s nightmares. There is little she dreams that does not come to pass.”
*******
Silas was determined not to let the Grandmot steal another one of his goats, and so he’d appointed himself as their protector. Now he spent his days lounging next to the paddock, watching the farmers carefully whenever they came by to feed or water the herd. He would even get up two or three times a night, just to make sure none of them had wandered into the valley.
When Kyleigh and Nadine approached, they found Silas sprawled out on a thick blanket of grass next to the pen. His hands were tucked loosely beneath his head, and he seemed to be enjoying the sunlight immensely.
Kyleigh’s shadow crossed his face, and his eyes snapped open. “Out of my sun, dragoness.”
“We have come to check on the goats,” Nadine said quickly. She stepped past him and leaned against the fence rails. Her fingers flicked over their heads as she counted them.
“They’re all here,” Silas drawled. He rolled, trying to get out of Kyleigh’s shadow, but she moved in his way. “I’m warning you, dragoness — I’ve killed for less annoying things.”
“Nadine’s worried about her animals. And since you’re her great furry goat-tender, I thought you might want to help her.”
The edge in her voice was not lost on Silas. He got to his feet — but took his precious time strolling over to Nadine. “What are you worr
ied about?” he said, leaning in next to her.
“I am not sure. It can be hard to see the meaning hidden in Hessa’s dreams …” A crease formed between her brows, and her eyes were distant. She muttered to herself for a moment, her fingers thrummed against the rails. “The water,” she finally said, spinning around to Kyleigh. “The monster in the river … the danger must be in their water!”
Kyleigh leapt over the fence. The goats scattered, bleating in terror at the smell of her. When she peered into the silver trough, the water sparkled innocently back at her. Nothing seemed amiss.
“Maybe it’s been poisoned.” Now that he thought his goats might be in danger, Silas was suddenly interested. He shoved in next to Kyleigh and scooped a drink to his mouth. He smacked his lips, his eyes closed as he tasted it. Then he shook his head. “No, the water’s good.”
Kyleigh thought for a moment, trying to remember everything she could about Hessa’s dream. Then it struck her. “The monster was in the shallows, along the shore …”
She brushed her finger against the floor of the trough and then stuck it to her tongue. Bitterness coated the inside of her mouth. She spat it out quickly.
“The trough’s been poisoned?” When Kyleigh nodded, Silas tasted it for himself. His face burned red as he spat. “She tried to poison them! She tried to poison my little — you,” he roared at a passing farmer. “My trough’s been poisoned. I demand a new one!”
Before Kyleigh could stop him, he grabbed the end of the trough and hurled it, toppling the whole thing over on its head. Water splashed out everywhere. The trough struck the fence with a loud clang, and the farmers dashed off in opposite directions — running as if they thought they might very well get eaten.
While Nadine went to explain to the farmers what had happened, Kyleigh tried to calm Silas. Red crept down his neck and spread across his shoulders. He paced with his fists clenched, glaring furiously at nobody in particular — though Kyleigh knew all of his anger must be focused on the Grandmot.
She decided it would probably be best to try to distract him. “I must admit, I never thought I’d see you care about anything,” she said, leaping back over the fence. “Much less a pack of horned prey.”
Silas looked out at the goats. He tried to mask the softness on his face with a shrug. “I guard them like I would guard any meal. They are nothing but a dinner I haven’t yet eaten.”
Kyleigh wasn’t sure she believed him. Now that she’d left the pen, the goats trotted eagerly up to Silas. Some nudged him with their horns, or stared affectionately through their strange, slitted eyes. One fellow started chewing on the hem of his garment, and he leapt away.
“Shoo!” he said as he retreated to the fence. “Go nibble elsewhere, you smelly little dinners!”
It took some convincing, but Nadine managed to get the farmers to trade her goats’ trough for a new one — on the condition that Silas stand several yards away. Once the new trough had been set up and filled, Silas returned to his post. His glaring gaze was even more watchful, now. The Grandmot’s agents would have a difficult time slipping past him.
The afternoon was growing late, which meant that Nadine only had a few hours left before her watch began. She headed back to her room to get some rest, and Kyleigh followed.
“There’s some Seer in Hessa’s blood, isn’t there?” Kyleigh murmured when they reached the stairs.
She’d sensed there was something odd about the little girl when they’d first met eyes, but it wasn’t until after her dream that Kyleigh put it together. She remembered the peculiar weight of Hessa’s stare; she’d felt it before … but where?
When she forced herself to grasp for it, all she felt was anger. The memory must’ve been a bad one. Perhaps it was better if she didn’t remember.
Nadine slowed her pace. Most of the mots were still going about their chores, so there was no one around to overhear them. “I see no point in hiding it from you any longer. Yes, Hessa is a Seer. But it is far more than that.”
“Tell me, then,” Kyleigh said. “Is that why the Grandmot chose her to be her successor?”
Nadine smirked. “Traditionally, yes — the Grandmots choose their own Dawns. But that was not so with Hessa: she was chosen by Fate. The night she was born, an owl lighted outside her family’s window. We consider owls to be messengers of Fate,” she explained. “That is why the Grandmot adorns her hair with his feathers.”
“Is that what that is? Huh, I thought those might’ve grown in on their own.”
Nadine swatted back at her. “Your teasing will get you into trouble one day, outlander.” Though she smiled as she said it. Then she went back to her tale: “The owl perched on her family’s window, watching with its all-seeing eyes. Her parents took this as a sign, and they sent for the Grandmot immediately. It was only after she declared Hessa her Dawn that the owl returned to the skies. We have never had a Dawn so young,” Nadine said softly. “Our laws say that our Dawn must leave her family, and allow the Grandmot to guide her with motherly wisdom. But Hessa was too young to care for herself, and the Grandmot did not have time to raise an infant. So someone had to be assigned her protector.
“I was only a child — I was just beginning to learn the ways of the spear. But when the Grandmot lined all of the female warriors up, I was among them. She walked past us with Hessa in her arms. She will know, the Grandmot said to us. Hessa will choose for herself.” By this point, Nadine’s pace had slowed to a stop. They stood outside of her room; she froze at the doorway. Her voice fell quiet: “When Hessa came to me, she broke out in a smile — the most beautiful smile. She raised her arm and held out her hand … and I took it. And so I was chosen.”
She turned around suddenly, and Kyleigh stepped back. “I raised her, I cared for her as a daughter. And that is where I keep her in my heart. Hessa has always known the future — even from the moment she was born. She knew how my life would unfold … that is why she chose me.” Nadine’s gaze returned from the distance, and she batted Kyleigh with the back of her hand. “Now, I have told you something, so you will tell me something.”
Kyleigh shrugged. “I suppose that’s only fair.” She followed Nadine to the water barrel for a drink. When she reached to retrieve the bowls, she felt Nadine’s hand on the back of her shoulder.
“What is this mark?”
Kyleigh knew this question was coming. She’d known it from the moment she put on her dress and saw which of her shoulders was going to go bare. And even though she didn’t want to talk about it, she felt she ought to give Nadine an answer.
“It’s the dragon of Midlan.”
“Midlan,” Nadine said slowly. “Wait — that is the home of your tyrant, is it not?”
“Yes. Is that what you call him, then? Not Your Majesty or His Royal Rumpness?” She tsked in mock disapproval. “Such insolence. I ought to hang you by your toes.”
Nadine snorted. “He is not my King.” Kyleigh felt the pressure of her fingers against the dulled, scarred skin on her right shoulder blade; felt her trace the dragon’s neck and follow the curve of its wings. “This is strange, outlander. Why did you do this?”
“I didn’t do it. It was done to me.”
“Why?”
Kyleigh wanted to lie. She’d always lied about it — because the truth stung too bitterly. Though she rolled her eyes at Silas and his proud ways, a small part of her knew how he felt. She’d been a proud creature too, once.
Perhaps she was still a little proud, because even now her fists clenched at the thought of telling the truth. She knew she wasn’t really trapped with Nadine: rules or no, once Jake healed, she would leave. She was strong enough now to do as she wished. But once, not so long ago, she hadn’t been strong enough. Once, she’d almost been doomed to the life of a slave.
She didn’t want to lie to Nadine, not after she’d been so honest. So Kyleigh tried to explain it without having to go too far into the details. “This isn’t my first time being a slave — which is probably why I’m
so blasted good at it.” She smiled when Nadine laughed. “I was the King’s slave, once. And he branded my skin with this mark.”
“How did you escape?”
Kyleigh had to steady herself against the memory. It was strange that an act so distant could still cause her throat to tighten — how one deed could bring the entire man into being. “I was bought by a very kind person,” she said roughly. “And he promptly set me free.”
That was how she would always remember Setheran: not as a great warrior or a fearsome knight, but as a kind soul — as a man who loved mercy … and who’d taken pity on her.
Chapter 28
None Other Than Love
At best, Kael hoped that his latest attack might stir up a little mischief. What he got instead was full-fledged chaos.
When they realized that Bobbin had disappeared, the mages flew into a panic: they blasted through every patch of grass and rolled over every stone, scouring the Fields for his body. Guards poured out from the castle to help in the search, led by Dred — who’d acquired a rather nasty-looking black eye. They spent hours tromping every which way, screaming at each other, and generally trying to pin blame anywhere but their own hides.
It was nearly afternoon before anyone thought to let out the slaves.
“Oh, look at them squirm,” Brend said gleefully.
They watched as a cluster of guards inspected a rather large, flat-topped stone. One guard pried it up with the sharp end of his pike while the other two stood with their weapons lowered — as if they expected a troll to leap out at them at any moment.
“I don’t know,” Declan murmured. A shadow crossed his eyes as he watched the guards poke tentatively beneath the rock. “That’s two mages that have gone missing, now. There must be something that’s getting them.”
