Dream Stalker: Talented: Book 1

by Hopkins, Amy

  "Yes," I said carefully. "Until the assembly members start disappearing; until they ask for help or they oppose something the Talent lords have planned for them. Do you really think it will hold?"

  "Ah, but the assembly isn't just Talented. The Fae have long wondered when mortal and half-skill would be included in the assembly. Once your people are sworn in, they will have powerful allies backing them up. That is why it's taken so long for the High Lord to gain consensus - this will be no token gesture, not at all."

  "The High Lord didn't mention 'my people', only mortals," I smiled wryly. "It seems that, once again, it's my people who are caught in between - accepted by neither and hated by most."

  "I think you'll be fine. The half-bloods I've known over the years were an industrious bunch." Duchess Columbine smiled at me. "Now, please do tell me how you met Harrod. He's quite the lovely young man, I'm so pleased he's found someone."

  "He's found...? Oh, no! No, it’s not like that. No, we're just friends." My face was pinker than the wine I gulped down, thoroughly embarrassed at her assumption that Harrod and I were dating. Casting around in my mind for anything else on earth to talk about, I asked about her estate, and she happily chatted about their lands and livestock while I tried to regain my composure.

  Faske by the dozen emerged to serve the first of the delicacies - the first course, tiny slices of pickled mandarin with lotus syrup. I nibbled at the dish, taking note of the interactions around me. Many of the silent pockets has been dispersed and a more normal flow of chatter drifted over the gardens. I couldn't see where Ave was sitting - that was probably a good thing. As we ate, Harrod leaned close to speak to me. Just before he spoke, someone came up to our table.

  "Harrod!" High Master Abnett waited for Harrod to stand, then clasped his arm in a familiar way. "Ah, this is your date? Beautiful and famous." I blushed and stammered but he didn't give me the chance to respond. "Your father was a true asset to our community, Emmeline. We're so glad you've returned. You run a tea shop I hear? Wonderful, wonderful. Now I assume you're here for the same reason Charles was always faffing about. You're to join the movement, of course! We'll find a position for you my dear, nothing too strenuous I assure you, but something important nonetheless. Now Harrod, I just need a quick word my friend..." Abnett dragged Harrod off to another table where he descended on the guests in a similar manner. Harrod gave me a pained look of apology as they left.

  Much to my dismay, they moved on to another table out of sight a few moments later. Columbine noticed my distress and placed a gentle hand on my arm. "Now dear, you're among friends. It must be terribly overwhelming to make your debut at a gala event, and such an important one at that. No matter, we'll take good care of you." Her words caused me some relief, until the next dish arrived. It looked like a white slug on a small biscuit, drizzled in a garishly red sauce. Columbine saw it and wrinkled her nose delicately.

  Stanley caught me eyeing the plate and laughed. "Looks revolting, doesn't it? It’s not so bad as all that, it's a moon fruit, something the Fae grow over there." I poked at the morsel and cut the end off. Soft, viscous liquid oozed out. Holding my breath and praying I wouldn't gag, I popped it in my mouth and swallowed without chewing. Stanley clapped.

  "Brave girl. You're better than Harrod, he won't touch the things."

  Levelling a flat expression at him for a moment, I then turned back to the Duchess who was watching our exchange with smile. "You young ones. I can’t say I'm as eager to try it myself." She set her cutlery down on the table and pushed her plate away. A faske popped up and immediately took it. Not feeling so bad for declining to eat more, I did the same and a few moments later, all the plates were gone. I noticed Stanley hadn't touched his moon fruit, either.

  The next dish was a stuffed mushroom which was utterly delicious. By this stage my wine glass was empty and the chatter at our table flowed freely. Much of it wafted around me, but Harrod’s friends did make an effort to include me often and by the time he returned to the table I felt easy in their presence.

  "I think I've found where Opius is sitting," he said in a low voice. "We can't see him from here, but he's behind that woman over there, the one in the red."

  The 'one in the red' was a woman in a garish dress who looked like she was trying to imitate a peacock. A feathered headpiece sat atop her hair and more splayed from her back, obscuring our view of anyone sitting in her path. "Dammit," I said, frustrated.

  "You'll know him." Harrod said. "He's the only one here who doesn't look healthy, though he's not nearly as bad as some of the accounts make out."

  The skill of healers in the city meant this would be rare indeed. I wondered at that - what on earth could be wrong with him? Talent could cure nearly any disease, except a rare few that attacked both the body and the ability to use Talent itself. It could be a slow process but eventually, those with a disease like that would lose the ability to trace even the smallest of spells. I shuddered. Even with my meagre amount of power, losing it would affect every aspect of my life. For a full Talent? It would be unthinkable.

  "I wonder if we could get her to move?" I mused, looking away from the feathered woman nervously. I was terrified that Opius would recognise me.

  "I doubt it. The only people I know at that table are ones I wouldn't normally be seen talking to. I don't want to draw attention."

  "How good are you?" I asked. "Could you move something without anyone detecting that you'd done it?"

  "Well... yes, I could. What are you thinking?"

  All we had to do was get her to bend down, or move over. I murmured this aloud and Harrod grasped what I was suggesting. His wand darted under the table and suddenly, the woman stood up, cursing. "Oh you clumsy pig!" she exclaimed to the man next to her. He paid her little heed - he seemed to be in a bit of a stupor. The commotion had drawn a few eyes so I didn't need to be overly shy about looking. She moved to the side, enough that I caught a glimpse of someone I recognised. It wasn't Opius.

  "Do you see him?" Harrod asked in a low voice.

  "No, I can't see past Priest."

  "Who?"

  "Jacoby Priest; The bald man. He comes into my shop sometimes."

  Harrod caught my arm, forcing my attention back to him. "Emma, there is no Jacoby Priest. That's Opius."

  I went cold. "It can't be. Harrod, he comes in all the time. Surely if that was Opius..." I felt the blood drain from my face and I started to tremble. "If it was him, he'd want a way to know his victims. Oh Gods, he probably found some of the others there." My stomach turned at the thought of this cretin stalking his victims from my shop. Before I could tear my eyes away, Opius looked up. When his eyes met mine, a smile spread over his face. He raised his glass as if to toast me from across the garden, then turned to speak to his companion. It was Ave.

  Harrod put his hand on mine and squeezed it. In a low voice, he said "Now we know who he is we can stop him. I won't let him get near you again. I promise I'll keep you safe."

  "Can we go?" I asked.

  He nodded. Harrod said something to the others about taking a stroll before the next course arrived. We stood, and he guided me towards the rose gardens. We walked along a small rocky path, not smooth like the enchanted lawns. The smell of flowers was overwhelming and made my head feel light. When the uneven ground made me stumble, Harrod caught my arm to steady me. Perhaps the wine was a little stronger this side of the wall.

  We circled around back towards the manor, taking care to watch out for other wanderers. "Will leaving early cause you any trouble?" I murmured to Harrod.

  "Not likely," he said. "We got through the important stuff. They'll probably think we went for a romp in the bluebells." He blushed when he realised what he'd said, and stammered an apology. I couldn't help but laugh at that.

  Just as we neared the end of the garden path, we heard talking. Harrod pulled me back into the bushes.

  "Yes, of course. I understand how badly this news could affect one such as yourself. Terrible decision i
t was."

  We couldn't make out the mumbled reply.

  "Ah yes, of course. Very well then. Farewell Aveline, we shall call on you before the week is out."

  I froze. Ave was right around the corner. Footsteps approached and I looked at Harrod in dismay. They reached the gravel path and, without a single other idea, I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, shielding both our faces. Harrod leaned into the kiss, pulling me closer to him. Our bodies pressed together and heat rushed through my body. After the sound of crunching gravel passed, I pulled back, trembling and gasping for air.

  "Wow. Um, you're... really quick on your feet. Are you ok?"

  I gave Harrod a shaky smile. "I thought we were done." I said.

  "Done? Oh! You mean - well no one knows we're looking for him, do they? Even if Aveline had seen us leaving, she couldn't have done anything about it."

  "The first time I'm seen in Talented society in years and I suddenly up and leave without notice, right after seeing her with Opius? She might be a bitch but she's far from stupid. Who was the man, did you catch a look?"

  "Ah... no. No, I didn't. I was a little busy."

  I eyed him. "You know that was strictly business, right?"

  "Business?"

  "Yes. The business of saving our behinds. I know my good looks and girlish charm can be distracting, but keep your eyes on the game, Harrod." I turned away and grinned. No need to let him know I was as flustered as he was. The man was quite adorable when he was nervous. The way he stammered and blushed was, in its own way, quite charming. Now, if I could only keep us alive long enough to figure out what I wanted to do with that. Speaking of keeping us alive...

  "Harrod, what you said at the table. I'm not your responsibility. I'm a grown woman, I do have a bit of talent and I make up for what I lack in tenacity and gumption." My voice softened. "Sometimes, you just can't keep another person safe. It has to be up to them to figure out how to do that... and sometimes, they don't."

  Chapter Thirteen

  We left the manor without being seen, dodging a few small clusters of chatting nobles. Harrod had arranged for his driver to wait for us a few streets over, so that he would be ready to go when we needed. Surely, there would be ramifications for Harrod. No doubt the whole damn guest list had noticed our early departure. I doubted he was right that it wouldn't be remarked upon; the Lords were such sticklers for propriety.

  As we walked, fatigue set in. Lost sleep, high emotions and the stress of the evening had worn away the last vestige of whatever it was that had kept me going. Even Bee's enchantment had worn off - I no longer felt the easy grace and effortless movement she had bestowed on me for a time. The dim lighting in the street sparkled in the night, making it seem like Christmas. I dragged my feet and shivered, realising that outside the magical ambiance of the party, the night air was chill. Harrod wrapped an arm around my shoulders. He seemed no better than I was, yawning and leaning into me. Street lights dotted the road, tall poles with lanterns atop, containing imbued gems that gave off amber glow. Fog drifted in around our feet, making everything look hazy.

  "How far is the car? My feet are killing me."

  Harrod pointed to a side street and said Davoss, his driver, should be waiting there for us. We turned down the street. It was small and poorly lit... and empty.

  "Wait, this isn't right. I must be more tired than I thought, this isn't supposed to be a dead end. Damned way-streets."

  A sick feeling of deja-vu settled in my gut. I grabbed Harrod's arm and walked towards the brick building that closed off the street. As we approached it, the world tilted. Somehow, despite nothing moving, the street continued on... there was no dead end. Fear washed over me. Harrod stopped walking and shook his head.

  "Harrod, we have to go back. It's a dream, we're in a dream." My voice shook and I felt my hands trembling on his arm.

  "No, it can't be. We were walking, awake. He can't just take us; we have to be at least tired." He started back up the street, seemingly determined to go on.

  "Tired... or a little tipsy? Fatigued after a long day, dancing, wine and dinner?"

  Harrod just kept walking, a stubborn look on his face. "I'm sure it's just..." He looked around. "Ah. I'm sorry, what were we talking about?"

  "Harrod!" I shook his arm and he looked at me distractedly. "This is what he did to me. He's here, he has to be."

  "Who's where?" Harrod spoke distractedly while he set off again up the street.

  "Harrod, do you trust me?" I grabbed his shoulders and forced him to stop and look at me.

  "Of course. Look, let's try that way." He pointed at an alley that had appeared out of nowhere.

  I pulled him into a corner. Then, I slapped Harrod across the face. He started, flinching back and hitting his head against the wall behind him.

  "What did you do that for?"

  "I was hoping it'd wake you up!"

  "What are you talking about? We're both perfectly awake, we just left the gala. The car's just around the corner."

  "Harrod, we've gone too far. We have to turn back.”

  Harrod started forwards again and I considered slapping him harder. I pulled him back behind me, trying to figure out what to do.

  You can't save him a voice whispered in my head. You have to run. He's caught, there's no way to get him out. Bullshit. I wouldn't leave him. What if Opius comes for you again? What if he wins this time? You can always go back for Harrod. No. Frantically I shook my head, desperation building. Oh well. It might be easier this way anyway. As the thought passed, the sound of it changed. I realised it wasn't a voice in my head, it was a voice in my ear... it sounded like Opius, but the words came from Harrod's mouth. I turned and my heart stopped when I saw what he held. He was leaning back against the wall, examining the grail-knife with an evil expression on his face. I slowly backed away, but the motion caught his eye.

  "Emma, look what I found! It's the knife. I guess he didn't need it after all." He twirled it between his fingers, caught it, and pointed it at me. I flinched.

  "Harrod, put it down."

  "What? No, then he'll come back for it. We need to hold on to it. Here, come and have a look - it's quite pretty when you see it up close." He gestured with the knife for me to come closer. I edged away instead.

  "Harrod, please. Listen to me, just put the knife on the ground, and we can talk about it." I raised my hands, trying to calm him.

  He looked at me, frowning. His hand gripped the knife a little tighter as he took a step towards me. I skittered back.

  "Why do you want the knife?" His voice dropped to a threatening growl.

  "I don't want it; I want you to put it down. Harrod, we're caught in a dream, you have to listen to me."

  "No. No, I don't think I'm going to give it to you. I know you want to use it on me. If you had my power, you could be strong, respected. You want that, don't you?"

  Tears pricked my eyes as I continued easing back. I didn't know how to fight this. I didn't know how to get myself out, let alone Harrod, if indeed that was him and not a dream image. He seemed to be completely under the spell and I had no doubt Opius had the skill to make Harrod's hand slip as soon as I was in arm's reach. I couldn't leave him - he was too powerful for Opius to pass up the opportunity - but I didn't know what to do.

  Harrod took a step towards me. "Come here Emma. Come here. Now."

  "No, Harrod. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault; I shouldn't have come with you. I'm sorry."

  "Emma, what are you holding? Why is your wand out?"

  My hands were still up in plain sight, empty. Opius had him convinced I was dangerous and I had no idea how to break the spell. A sob choked me. I turned and fled.

  "Emma!" Harrod's voice screamed after me, sounding furious. I ran, darting between two buildings then taking another corner immediately after. I didn't know the City well enough to find my way around, but I knew Opius was likely controlling the layout anyway. I could hear footsteps r
unning behind me but I didn't turn to look.

  I kept on, taking random corners and at one point, doubling around. Footsteps slapped on the pavement behind me, getting louder, then moving away, reappearing closer than before. Every now and then I'd hear Harrod call my name, looking for me. Sometimes it was in anger - others it sounded like he was lost and frightened. My chest heaved, gasps of air to strained to be quiet. I couldn't keep this up for much longer.

  I found an open door leading into a small kitchen. Unsure if I was walking straight into a trap, I ducked inside. It was a room, dark but ordinary looking. I picked up a chair - if nothing else, I could use it to fend off Harrod, hopefully without hurting him too much. The tap-tap of shoes on cobblestones approached, slowly now. He knew he had me cornered.

  I backed up behind the table.

  "Oh Emma. Must you be so terribly difficult?"

  When he spoke I jerked in dismay. His voice was wrong. The man in front of me looked like Harrod, but it wasn't, I could see it in his eyes. Opius.

  "Come now. Put the chair down. You'll hurt your friend." Harrod walked up to the doorway, filling it. He wasn't a tall man. I tried to remind myself it was a dream, that what I saw wasn't real.

  "Why do you keep coming after me? Surely I'm not worth your effort."

  "Oh my dear, you are so very worth it. More than your little friend in fact. You see, it seems you have a very rare gift. A gift I very much need. If I could take it another way, I would. I tried - I tried to leave the others alive, I did, but the power I gained only lasted such a short time. Just long enough to make me remember what it was like."

  Harrod - or, Opius in Harrod's body - approached the table. Warily, I edged back and to the side, keeping it between us. I'd caught my breath a little- if I could circle round and dash out the door, I might be able to run for a little while longer. I wasn't sure what good that would do though.

  "I'm dying, Emma. Me. I was one of the most powerful Talents in the city, perhaps even in the world. I helped to bring about the agreements, I fought for equality, I spent ten years, ten years in the outer city, helping the mortals. I don't deserve to die."