Chapter 2
The Greenweald never changed. It was like a smothering, yet somehow comforting presence, always there on the edge of your thoughts, no matter where you went in the world. Jocasta had sworn that she’d never return, yet here she was, walking among the giant trees.
She passed into the Whispering Pines compound with no challenge, only a lot of what the Folk here were known for. Whispering. People stared at her as she strode to the main tree, their hands held in front of their mouths, muttering to one another.
They knew who she was, even though she’d been gone for years.
Her long legs took her to the door of the main tree. Unlike the Folk here, she didn’t wear the traditional shades of green that denoted her House. Her sturdy pants were black, and the loose shirt she wore was of sky blue, or perhaps the color of the waves. The heels of her black boots made a ringing sound on the wooden steps leading up to the door, and the unscabbarded, curved sword at her hip shone brightly in the sunlight. Long, dark hair was held back with a simple tie, and from one ear dangled a chain of emblems, all of silver and gold.
For many, Jocasta would seem to fit in better with House Towering Oaks than with Whispering Pines. She was muscular and moved with the grace of one who had seen more than her share of battles, although now, her gait also had a strange roll to it, as if she were unaccustomed to walking on solid land.
She cast around once more before raising a ringed fist and pounding on the door. That was a courtesy she would extend this one time, and this one time only. From here on, this door would open for her whenever she approached.
The servant who answered it now stared at her in shock, then stepped back, opening the door fully and bowing. “Lady Jocasta,” he stammered. “What an unexpected honor…”
“Stow it,” Jocasta growled. “Where are they meeting?”
“The first-floor conference room, my Lady.”
Jocasta raised an eyebrow at this.
“Due to the…ah…advanced wisdom of some of the attendees,” the servant said.
She nodded and started to stride away. Then, she turned back.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Mine? I’m Darius, my Lady.” The servant seemed surprised that she asked but covered it quickly.
“Darius. I’ll remember that.”
His quick recovery and tact impressed her. While she had no use for those things herself, she recognized the need for them in a place like this.
She walked on to the conference room, not bothering at even a pretense of stealth.
The double doors were closed when she approached, so she grabbed them and shoved. They slammed into the walls behind with a thundering boom, making the inhabitants of the room jump in alarm.
Jocasta smiled at them as she walked in. Without hesitation she strode to the head of the table, to the seat that the Head of House would occupy. For now, it was left empty while those in the room debated who should fill it, and whatever other nonsense they were discussing.
She pushed the chair back with her foot and sat down. She gazed around at the lined, stunned faces at the table.
“Well, now that that’s settled, let’s get on with it.”
There was silence for a moment, then every tongue at the table started to wag at once. Some were talking to her, some shouting, while others talked to each other. She let it go on for a moment, reminded of the noise of gulls fighting over a scrap of bread left on the deck.
“Enough!” she yelled when she couldn’t take it anymore. She banged hard on the table with the flat of her hand, her rings making a cracking sound.
Silence fell again, and eleven sets of eyes watched her cautiously.
She stared back, waiting for the first of them to be brave enough to speak.
“Lady Jocasta,” one finally did. She recognized him as Lord Jerome, a singularly heavy-set individual, short for one of the Folk, and obviously fond of rich food. “We weren’t aware that you had returned.”
“And why doesn’t that surprise me?” she answered. Good. This was exactly the right way to start. “It seems there’s a lot of things that House Whispering Pines doesn’t know these days.”
Lord Jerome’s eyebrows drew down in a vee shape. “I’m not entirely sure what…”
“Of course, you’re not. If it’s not on a plate in front of you, you don’t pay any attention to it. I wouldn’t be surprised if you still didn’t know what happened, Jerome.”
He sputtered as he searched for an answer, and an angry murmur went up around the table. Jocasta let it simmer for a moment, then held her hand up.
“Your pardon, my lords. That was rude of me. I’m afraid I’ve spent too much time among those with fewer…manners…than we have. But my point remains. House Whispering Pines was taken unaware recently by several things. By the Soul Gaunts, by Jamshir’s treachery, and the return of Solomon to Towering Oaks. This, for the House that has made its reputation on its store of knowledge. Am I wrong?”
All faces but one turned to the table, not looking at her or each other. That one still gazing at her, with amusement in his old eyes, was Lord Childress. Jocasta looked back at him and felt the smile form on her face. This one wasn’t surprised, not to see her here now anyway. Then again, the surprise would have been hers if he had been.
“Welcome home, Lady Jocasta,” he said, his voice still firm despite his obvious age. “But if I may ask, why now?”
“Because my cousin is gone, so someone needs to take over the House.”
“Cousin?” This from one of the others, one who she didn’t know. She turned to face him. “What cousin? The only family Lord Florian had was that wretched Thaddeus. And we assume he was killed in the battle.”
“Really?” she asked. “Did you find his body?”
The other looked uneasy, then finally shook his head.
“No, I thought not,” she continued. “We’ll leave that for now. As for Florian, yes, Thaddeus was his nearest cousin, but did you really think that was all the family he had? His grandfather was brother to my own. Thus, I am of the same line. By that right, I claim the title of Head of House Whispering Pines.”
She said it calmly, keeping her voice modulated to fit the inside of the conference room, inside the tree. It would have been easy to let it ring out, so that it could be heard over the sound of the sea, and up in the riggings of the ship. Outside, where she really still wanted to be.
“It’s not that simple, Jocasta,” another said, his voice waspish. “A new Head of House isn’t simply installed because they are family. There are qualifications, necessary experience…”
“I’m aware of that. I’ve been out getting more qualifications and experience than you could imagine. I’ve travelled the world, seen what’s out there and what the threats and opportunities are. All while you’ve stayed here, cowering in your trees like frightened squirrels.”
The meeting went downhill from there. Jocasta sat back and let it roll over her. It was going well. Keep them on edge, unsure of who she really was or how she would react. It wasn’t how she commanded her ship. There, the brutal hard truth worked best. Praise for effort and performance, discipline for failure, and derision for laziness.
Here though, the situation called for a different approach. She had been gone long enough that most of the old men here wouldn’t back her, at least not right away. When she left, she was a young woman, headstrong and impatient with the intrigues of a House like Whispering Pines.
Florian knew her feelings, even if he didn’t understand them, and she left with his blessing. He was a good man, her cousin, even with all their differences and clashes, and she was sorry that she wasn’t here when he needed her.
But she was now, even if it wasn’t where she truly longed to be. She would do her duty, by her cousin and her House. Even if it meant playing games with this pack of mongrels.
♦ ♦ ♦
“Well, that certainly set them off,” Childress chuckled as he handed Jocasta a glass of de
ep red wine.
Jocasta sipped and closed her eyes in pleasure. Ahh, this was something she missed. No matter how far she had gone, or what wonders she had seen, there was no wine that could compare to that of the Greenweald.
“It didn’t really go the way I thought it would,” she said, opening her eyes and looking at the aged Lord.
“Really? And how did you envision it? When you kicked open the doors and…”
“I didn’t kick them,” she interrupted.
“Threw them open, then.” Childress stopped and waited, and when she raised no further objection he continued. “And then claimed Florian’s place on nothing more than an ancient connection and bravado. To say nothing of insulting poor Jerome.”
He finished, but the twinkle in his eye spoke volumes about what he really thought of “poor Jerome”.
Jocasta sighed. “You’re right, of course. Maybe I’m not cut out for this after all.”
“Nonsense, dear.” Childress leaned over and patted her leg. “If I thought that was at all true, I wouldn’t have sent for you.”
He sat back and tented his fingers in front of his mouth. Jocasta recognized the gesture from years ago, when he was her tutor and she would ask a question that made him stop and think. She had done that more than any other student in all his years teaching, he told her. Now, she sipped her wine and watched him, waiting for him to speak again.
“Still,” he said after a moment, “perhaps it was for the best. They’ll think twice before challenging you, even if they want to. You’re opening salvo may not work in a House like Towering Oaks, but here no one will know what to make of it. They would expect you to come in softly, try to win others to your cause, show that you know how to play the subterfuge game, and so on. Now they’re not sure what to think.”
He stopped and gazed into the fire, built despite the warm day outside. For as long as Jocasta knew him, he always had a fire going.
“I have to ask,” Childress said, looking at her again. “Why? Why did you answer my summons and return? You never had the slightest interest in being Head of House.”
“I still don’t,” she grunted. “But this damn place. It calls. No matter how far I went, no matter how many miles out to sea I was, I could feel it. And when Florian died, I knew. I knew the minute it happened.” She dropped her eyes. “I never hated him, you know. We were different…but I never wanted something like that to happen to him.”
She took another sip of her wine to hide the sudden show of emotion.
“Anyway,” she said, clearing her throat. “I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t concentrate on anything. I was letting my duties slip, and on a ship that’s deadly. I was already planning to come back here when I got your message.”
“And here you are, ready to take on your duties as our leader.”
Jocasta snorted. “Sure, why not? How bad could it be? Half our men killed in a battle they shouldn’t have been in. Childrens’ ghost stories coming to life. Oh, and let’s not forget our glorious ruler proving to be a treacherous bastard.”
Childress nodded. “All true. Are you up to it?”
She took a minute before she answered, thinking back to her first days in command of her own ship. The uncertainty, the hesitation, and the fear that she wasn’t good enough. Her first voyage had worked out. It wasn’t a smashing success, but all survived and profited.
Soon, every sailor in the southern seas wanted to be on board her vessel.
“Yes,” she said, her voice firm, “I am.”
Chapter 3
Had anyone asked, he would have thought that it would be darker here. After all, the secret House moved in the shadows, never seen except by those they chose to reveal themselves to. It would be only fitting for their home to be cloaked in darkness.
Instead, Thaddeus was in a bright, light-filled chamber, comfortable furniture scattered around. It was a far cry from the decay and terror of the Rustling Elms tree. Even now, two weeks later, he was having a hard time reconciling the two.
Of course, not every room was well lit, he thought. The one he was headed to now, for instance, couldn’t be. Not with what it held.
In truth, he hated going there, but it was necessary, or at least they told him so. He supposed there was some validity to that. He needed to get past his fear, and to develop his gifts more fully. Gifts that he wasn’t aware he possessed until he was brought here, rescued from Solomon’s wrath at the last minute.
It was an adjustment, there was no doubt about that. Even the view from the windows he passed as he walked the halls toward his destination caused a sense of unreality to rise in him. There was no forest here, no giant trees with homes built right inside them. Instead, there were mountains, soaring into high peaks. Snow covered, even now, when it was warm and insects hummed in the air.
Wherever he was, and he hadn’t been told that yet, he was far from home.
And yet, it held all the comforts of home. He was given spacious chambers, flooded with light from large windows that opened onto stunning views. Clean, loose fitting clothes in bright colors were provided, and for the first couple of days meals were brought to him, until he felt strong enough to join the others in the dining hall.
Subtle Hemlock was a small House, smaller than any he knew of outside of here. But they made it up for it in other ways. Every one of them had great magical ability. The things the Advocate did were mere parlor tricks, and since being here he’d seen magic performed that he never would have thought possible.
And their slyness made that of Whispering Pines seem like a joke. Subtle Hemlock had fingers and eyes in almost every House. Except for Towering Oaks. They were making inroads there as well when Solomon returned, and any attempts at infiltrating his House ceased immediately.
For reasons Thaddeus still wasn’t entirely sure of, House Subtle Hemlock was terrified of Solomon.
His thoughtful meanderings were cut short when he arrived at his destination. He stopped and glowered at the door in front of him. It looked the same as all the others, with no way to tell what was behind it.
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, stepped in, and closed it behind him, letting in as little light from the hallway as possible.
Even that amount was enough to make the black shape in the room shrink to the back of its cage and hiss.
The laughter that followed was light, sounding out of place in the cold and dimly lit room.
“Don’t you love it when they do that? It means they’re afraid,” the voice said. Soft, feminine, and slightly raspy, the sound of it set Thaddeus’s heart beating more than the caged Soul Gaunt did.
“Melanie,” he smiled. “I hoped it would be you today.”
She approached him. Red hair, rare for one of the Folk, hung shoulder length. Green eyes, dark in this light, were fixed on his own. She wore simple clothes that clung to her figure in a way that Thaddeus had a hard time ignoring.
Not that she wanted him to.
She pressed up against him, kissing him passionately. He returned it, his arms going around her and pulling her even tighter against him. Somewhere, the sound of the Soul Gaunt hissing its displeasure barely made a dint in his consciousness.
“Of course, it’s me,” Melanie said, breaking the kiss and stepping back. “I traded to get this duty. Not that I was fooling anyone.”
“I’m glad you did. But…can we get in any sort of trouble for this?”
“For what?” She laughed and walked to a table on the other side of the room.
“I don’t know,” Thaddeus said. “Is there some rule against student and teacher…or….”
“Don’t be naïve. You’re hardly a child. You’re older than I am.”
True, Thaddeus thought. But if Malachi believed that he wasn’t taking his studies seriously…
“Besides,” Melanie said, as if she could read his mind. “Do you think I’ve been going easy on you? No one believes that because I’ve invited you into my bed, I’ve been shirking my responsibilities.”<
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“No, I guess not. And you certainly haven’t been easy on me.”
“Good. Because today you’ve got work to do. As cute as I think you are, you did horribly yesterday. Today, you need to do better.”
He nodded. “I understand. It’s just that this whole side of things is new to me.”
“Still, you need to do better. If you can’t get this simple act down, I’m not sure they’ll allow you to stay.”
“Then what?” Thaddeus laughed bitterly, picturing going back to Whispering Pines on his knees, begging for forgiveness. “I become the Greenweald’s first beggar?”
Melanie turned to him, a black candle in her hand.
“You can’t believe that’s what would happen. Or are you really that naïve? I was kidding before, but…have you ever known anyone who has talked about being kicked out of this House?”
“I never even knew this House existed until…” He trailed off as he realized what it was Melanie was telling him. “Oh.”
“Exactly. So no screwing around.” She neared and placed the candle in his hand. “At least not right now,” she said, her lips brushing his ear.
He nodded, took the candle and approached the cage holding the Soul Gaunt. It floated at the back, a darker patch that was hard to see. Thaddeus knew it was looking at him hungrily.
The cage itself was of thick iron bars, embedded in the floor and running up into the ceiling. There was no door that Thaddeus could see. The bars were spaced far enough apart that the Soul Gaunt should have been able to slip out between them, but it didn’t. Magic held it where it was better than anything physical ever could.
Thaddeus stopped in front of the bars and sat on the floor cross-legged. He put the candle in one hand and closed his eyes, controlling his breathing. The first thing was to light the candle, easy enough. Conjuring a small flame was a trick that the most inept spell caster could perform.
The trick here was to do it in the presence of the Soul Gaunt, and the cold and fear that they generated. For Thaddeus, it was especially difficult.
Solomon's Journey Page 2
