“You know why I’m here?” she asked at last.
“You missed me?” I winced as she tugged at a knot in my hair. I’d known as soon as I saw her why she’d come. I might have temporarily forgotten about Callum’s letter, but my mother hadn’t, and she’d sent someone to remind me. I gritted my teeth, and reminded myself that it wasn’t Felicia I was angry with.
“Ro, you have a proposal. A good one, from a great guy. I’m here to make sure you don’t make a mess of it.”
“You don’t seem to have much faith in me.”
Felicia sighed and set the brush in her lap. “You know I love you like a sister, right?”
“Yes.”
“So it’s with love that I say no, I don’t. Remember when you had a proposal from that mayor’s son, and you turned that down? I supported you. He was dreadfully dull, and obviously wanted you for your family history.”
Harsh, but true. My mother and my sisters’ success in having healthy children, plus the fact that my family had no history of adults using magic, made me more desirable than I’d have otherwise been. Felicia would have managed to use that to her advantage. I hadn’t.
“But Callum,” she continued. “He’s perfect. He’s rich, he’s sweet, he’s gorgeous. He’s going to do great things. I can’t tell you how many girls in Ardare would love to get their claws into him. But he’s ignored them and courted you. He sent you a proposal, and you didn’t even tell your mother, or send me a letter to let me know.” She sounded hurt. “It seems like you’re still undecided, and I’m sorry, but you really can’t afford to be. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know what my problem is.” I tried to keep my voice steady. It always betrayed me when I was upset. “I know what’s expected of me. Even if Aunt Vic and Uncle Ches didn’t make a big deal out of it, I’ve always known. And I know that it’s inevitable. I’m not going to disappoint my family and hurt Callum, and if I did I’d regret it, soon. I care about him, I really do.” I reached up to play with my hair, and Felicia leaned forward to gently move my hand away.
“But you’re not happy about it.”
The concern in her voice undid me in a way my mother’s nagging never could. My throat tightened. “I want to be happy. There’s something wrong with me, Lecia. I don’t think I love him.”
“Oh, honey, you will!” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around me. “You just don’t know him well enough yet. I wish your parents had let you move in with me. You would feel so much better about this if you lived in Ardare and saw Callum more often.”
“Maybe.” I scooted around to face her. “It just seems like I should feel more for him. He’s amazing. I just don’t feel any passion when he kisses me.” My cheeks grew warm. I was used to reading about this, not discussing it. “I don’t burst into flames when he says my name. I don’t pine for him when we’re apart. I don’t feel… that. And I don’t know that he does, either.”
She tilted her head to the side. “So you haven’t slept with him yet?”
“No.” My face grew warm. “It’s not that I’m opposed to the idea, but it’s never seemed right. And when I think about it, I just hear Miss Persimmon’s lectures from that marriage preparation class Mother made me take last year.”
Felicia laughed. “I promise, it’s far more enjoyable than the old ladies make it sound. They want to make sure you know how to make babies, but you only need to worry about that in the weeks before your annual cycle. The rest of the time it’s fun and practice. And more fun. Maybe even a happy accident. When’s yours due this year?”
“Just finished,” I admitted.
“Ugh. Don’t tell anyone. Let them think you can make a baby sooner. Like, right after the wedding. Or before, even.”
“Callum didn’t drop me when I told him about my headaches. I doubt a year of practice before my next chance to get pregnant is going to end things.” I thought back to the last time Callum had kissed me. It was sweet. Safe. Warm. Maybe that’s just how it starts.
Felicia reached out to squeeze my hand and got up from the chair. Cold panic washed over me as she went to the window and leaned out for a breath of fresh air, but it seemed Aquila had moved. Something on the table caught her eye, though. The fairy tale book. Felicia held it up and raised her eyebrows. “Are you supposed to have this?”
I pushed up from the floor. “No. But the books aren’t the problem.” She’d heard a few of the stories when we were children, but had lost interest when she discovered the delights of real life in the city.
She flipped through the brittle pages, pausing now and then to read or to look at a picture. “Don’t you want your happily ever after?”
“Sorry?”
She held the book out to me. “This.”
The drawing was simple, but the lines on the yellow page captured every important detail—the benevolent smile on the prince’s face, the admiration on his bride’s as she looked up at him. The long gown, the doves perched in the rafters of the church, the flower petals scattered on the floor. Everyone looked so happy, from the prince to his proud mother and father, and especially the girl. So why couldn’t I picture myself there?
I flipped a few more pages back and found an illustration of a turreted stone castle surrounded by a moat, and a dragon attacking it. That same prince stood with his feet planted firmly on the drawbridge, ready for battle. “I feel like I’ve skipped a few steps on my way to happily ever after,” I said. “Isn’t there supposed to be more?”
Felicia stepped around to look over my shoulder at the picture. “Rowan my dear, your prince does slay dragons. Literally. You know that, right?”
I sighed. “The dragon’s not the point. It’s the adventure, the passion, the excitement. So these stories are made-up and completely wrong about magic, I understand that. But surely there’s more out there than we’ve been told?”
“Not much that’s good. The feelings will come, believe me. You’ll find what you need with Callum. Everything else is better left in stories.” She took the book and stretched to place it on the highest shelf in the room, out of sight.
“You don’t seem too eager to jump into your own happily ever after,” I said.
She smiled. “You didn’t even notice.” She held out her left hand, where a gold and amethyst ring sparkled on her slender finger. “Robert asked me a few days ago.”
“Oh, Lecia!” I hugged her, and she laughed. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see it. That’s wonderful news!”
She took my hands in hers. “And it’s perfect! Robert and Callum are best friends, they’re both magic hunters… this is it, kid. All you have to do is say yes, okay? Stop dreaming about lives you can’t have, things that aren’t even real. Focus on what you can have before it’s out of your reach.”
“I want to want that,” I told her, and it was true. I wanted to stop fighting, to let go of the silly doubts that were holding me back from the happiness that waited for me. “Will you help me write the acceptance letter?”
“Of course! And you can stay with me in Ardare until the wedding. Spend more time with Callum. See what happens.” She winked and wrapped her arms around me again. “It’s going to be great, you know. The two of us in the city together?”
She went on about the stores we’d visit and the important people she knew as she let go of me and wandered into the second bedroom, and I thought of Aquila again.
“Hey Lecia, are you staying up here?” I called. “I don’t see your things.”
She laughed as she came back toward me. “Nope. Robert accompanied me here, and we’re staying downstairs overnight. Wouldn’t want to keep you awake.” She winked.
Right. At least I didn’t have to worry about more than one guest sharing my space.
She left to take a bath before lunch, leaving me alone again. Aquila appeared in the window and side-stepped cautiously over the sill to stand on the desk. He tilted his head, questioning.
“You’d better go,” I told him. “Matthew’s been too busy to
notice you, but Robert won’t be. It’s not safe for you here with a magic hunter around.” He shuffled closer and arched his neck, and I ran my fingers over the soft, dusty feathers. “I’m going to miss you. I’m glad I helped you, but you need to go back to wherever you came from, and I need to get past this curiosity about magic.”
No magical speech poured from his beak as it would have in a story book. He didn’t thank me for my help by offering to grant wishes, and he didn’t leave a magic feather I could use to call him if ever I was in trouble. Those odd, beautiful eyes just stared at me for another moment, and then he was gone, soaring toward the forest.
Chapter IX
Aren
I FLEW FROM THAT COUNTRY as quickly as my wings would carry me, soaring over the mountains and relishing the feel of the magic that surrounded and restored me in my own country. It wasn’t a gift I was likely to take for granted any time soon.
After several days’ hard travel I reached the outer wall of Luid. Pale gray stone snaked around the outside of the city from port to forest and back, protecting it from attack on all sides. Light and noise flooded through the main city gates. I had forgotten about Severn’s birthday, which when combined with the harvest festival had become the single most lavish and wanton party of the year.
A string of three horse-drawn carts passed below me as I landed in a tree, nearly missing the branch. Even after three years of irregular practice at flying, I still had trouble with landings. The occupants of the carts didn’t notice me, but shouted and laughed amongst themselves. A woman shrieked and threw her head back, sending out a dazzling display as her dress reflected the moonlight in bright flashes. The others riding with her were no less elaborately costumed. Wealthy folk, perhaps people I would recognize, perhaps not. It was difficult to remember all of the names and faces that passed through.
Someone tossed a wine bottle up in the air. It flashed for a moment in the moonlight, then shattered on the road. Everyone laughed as they went on. I studied the glinting glass shards as I considered my position.
The question of whether to take Rowan back to Severn had gnawed at me every moment I spent in her home. The sensible option would have been to recover my strength and then make her go with me. She was as defenseless as she was ignorant of magic. Though her magic would protect her mind, I had other ways of making her co-operate.
And the rewards would have been sweet. The arrival of summer would mark three years since our father’s disappearance. He would be declared dead, and Severn would become a king in need of an adviser. Acting as his Second wouldn’t be an easy job, but I was well-prepared, and more than ready for the power and wealth that would come with it. I’d worked hard to escape the shadow of my mother’s dishonorable death, fought to win Severn’s respect and trust even as I hated him for his cruelty. I’d come so far, and my reward was so close.
And yet I had chosen to return to my brother empty-handed. I couldn’t repay my rescuer’s kindness with betrayal, especially when I didn’t know what Severn planned to do with her. She had impressed me with her courage in standing up to the magic hunters, and she had healed me, fed me and sheltered me. Even after the influence of her magic faded, I had no desire to let Severn harm her.
And that’s all it is. I fluffed my feathers against the wind and hardened myself to the memory of her. I don’t care for her, I told myself. It’s only a debt that I’m repaying. Her kindness, her laughter, and her interest in the world beyond her people’s stifling beliefs mean nothing. It’s over. I’d indulged that weakness enough already.
I preened my feathers, taking my time, not ready to return home. I would have to transform again before I got there, find clothing before I entered the palace. Severn didn’t know about my eagle form, a skill I’d developed in secret. He had directed much of my schooling, had suggested that I develop a small talent for reading people’s thoughts into the ability to control them. Hard and cruel as his tutelage had been at times, he’d shaped me into the man I was. Still, it wouldn’t have been wise to let him know everything I was capable of. I walked a narrow line between his approval and his potential jealousy, and keeping my balance grew more difficult every year.
I pushed off from the tree and soared over the city wall. The sounds of laughter and music became louder, and the smells of street festival foods wafted up to greet me—candied flowers guaranteed by Potioners to delight and captivate the mind, hot sweet drinks in a hundred flavors, frying slabs of moist dragon meat that most people would have few opportunities to taste in their lifetimes. The scents and sights reminded me of how badly I needed a good meal and some excitement that wasn’t life-threatening, but I doubted I’d find time to join in the people’s revels.
I dropped directly to the ground in a dark alley behind a small mercantile, not risking a loud landing on top of anything that would have kept me out of the mud. The shadows protected me from curious glances as I transformed and broke a window so that I could unlatch it and climb in. No one would take particular notice if a few items of clothing went missing during the festival. It was a celebration, but also an opportunity for crimes such as this. I left the doors locked and exited the same way I went in.
A young woman collided with me as I left the alley. Her mind was open, her thoughts as overpowering as the smell of strong wine on her breath. Interest, at first, until her drunken thoughts coalesced enough to recognize me. Fear took over then as she considered what might happen with a man who could make her do anything—or so said the rumors she’d heard. I turned away before I could see more.
Everyone else avoided me. Perhaps the expression on my face told them I was in no mood for whatever food, drink, or flesh they were peddling that night.
The turreted palace came into view as I entered the square, its imposing stone façade only slightly softened by the colored glass windows my grandmother had commissioned when she ruled. I slowed as I passed the public fountain, wishing I had more time to prepare.
Any hope I had of my presence going unnoticed was dashed when a pair of burly palace guards met me at the kitchen entrance. Without a word, they escorted me toward Severn’s quarters. Neither laid a hand on me, perhaps because they were only a little less afraid of me than they were of Severn, but their presence was a threat in itself.
The stone walls and rich furnishings we passed were as familiar to me as my own reflection, but returning home offered little comfort. So much depended on my brother’s mood and whatever had happened in my absence.
Severn himself met us at the door. His white hair, an effect of advanced magic he once tried to work before he was ready, hung loose over his shoulders. Nearly as tall as me, with a regal bearing and piercing blue eyes that missed nothing, he looked every inch the king he would soon be. Even in casual surroundings, clothed in nothing more than simple cotton pants and his silk dressing gown worn open, he commanded the room.
I couldn’t let my nervousness show. Severn was like a dog, and would attack at the first sign of weakness.
He dismissed the guards with a wave of his hand. They bowed and retreated, closing the door tight behind them. Severn turned and led the way through the lavishly decorated receiving room and between the heavy wooden doors that led to his personal living space. Empty bottles and half-filled wine glasses littered every flat surface, and piles of discarded clothing covered the floor in patches. The scent of sour grapes and sweat hung thick in the air.
Severn leaned against a marble-topped table and picked up a glass of pale wine. Hard blue eyes regarded me as he sipped, taking in every clue I might reveal about my absence.
“How wonderful,” he drawled. “Just what I wanted for my birthday. A ghost.”
I didn’t speak. I’d learned over the years that if I didn’t have an answer that would satisfy Severn, it was best to say nothing at all.
“We thought you were dead,” he continued, his voice as cold as I’d ever heard it. “It’s not like you to disappear. You know how I worry.”
“I was injur
ed escaping from the mountains. I needed time to recover, and had no way to contact you without being seen.”
Severn poured a glass of wine and offered it to me. I drank it, not because I wanted it, but to show that I trusted him not to poison me. That, or I feared him enough to do as he wished with no thought for the consequences. It didn’t matter to Severn. Respect and fear were nearly the same thing to him, and he would accept either from me.
“And why was escape necessary?” He took my glass to refill it. “Surely you didn’t make such a mess of that simple mission that you brought the magic hunters down on you.” He arched one thick, dark eyebrow. “When I heard that one of Dorset Langley’s top magic hunters had been murdered, I assumed it was your doing. Got in your way, did he?”
“In a sense.”
“You need to control that temper, brother. I have other people I can use if I want to stir up trouble. From you, I require control and forethought.”
“It won’t happen again.” I didn’t ask how he knew. Though he couldn’t see into people’s minds like I could, he had some skill that seemed to bring him information on occasion. It wasn’t anything he’d ever explained to me, which made it all the more unnerving. Every secret I kept from him was a gamble. They had paid off so far, but there were never any guarantees where Severn was concerned.
He handed my glass back. It was several uncomfortable moments before he looked away and sipped again from his own. “You’re ruining my party. Tell me what happened, and go.”
“I learned that the hunter had executed every magic-user in the area, and I became angry. I manipulated his brother’s mind and sent him to kill the hunter.”
Severn sneered. “I’m not sure whether I’m impressed by your skill or disgusted with your unwillingness to dirty your own hands. Either way, what’s done is done. I can’t say I’m sorry.” I was certain he was pleased that the man was dead, but this was the most praise I could expect for it. “I assume you were unsuccessful in procuring a Sorcerer for me, if things ended so badly for you.”
FIERCE: Sixteen Authors of Fantasy Page 150
