Sword of Storms

by Tara Brown

  “Wait a fortnight and I will go with you. I’ll arrange it—”

  “I need answers, Ivor. I need to understand what is happening to me. And if there are others.” She swallowed her pride. “You were right. I’m not in control of the magic and the brothers have no answers for me beyond what lies lost in old books I can’t read.” She took his hands, letting them swallow up hers with clammy warmth. “I won’t be long. Two months at the most.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

  “You—you were ignoring my existence. I assumed the magic I used to save Landon sc-scared you off—”

  “Scared me?” He blinked slowly, fighting the drunkenness overwhelming him. “I was angry at myself for asking you to do such a thing. I wasn’t scared of you, Lenny. I was scared for you. I still am. I put you in danger. And I hated it. I want to marry you and force you to come to one of my country estates and convince you that a simple life, hiding your abilities, is the best choice.” The words flew from him, “I don’t think you should search out answers. I think we should tell everyone who knows that your powers are gone and you should hide them.”

  “You sound like the queen—Aunt Saleen.” It was strange that Hilde was now queen.

  “She told you to hide them?”

  “She said I should train in secret and hide my magic, in case anyone saw and misunderstood.” Lenny’s cheeks flushed with color.

  “My aunt wants you to stay here and hide away, and you’re disobeying and sneaking off with the brothers?”

  “No.” Lenny shook her head. “I would never. She is the one who told me about the brothers’ trip and that I should go and help them. She suggested I hide my talents when I go, that’s why she has been letting me train.”

  “Wait—what?” He squinted, tilting his head to the side. “You didn’t ask her—beg her to go with the brothers?”

  “Of course not. How would I know they were going if not for her?” Lenny scowled, confused more so now.

  The fury returned to his stare but it was joined by something else, something cold and frightening. “I see.” He bit his lip, stepping back from Lenny, stumbling a little again. He paced the hallway, running his hands through his hair.

  Lenny’s confusion turned to agonizing worry.

  She’d never seen Ivor act this way. “What’s wrong?”

  “Aunt Saleen suggested you go on this trip, then told you to tell no one. And for the last two weeks, you have done that. You haven’t told your mother or sister or even me?” He snarled his words, “Until today, when you told your father and uncle?”

  “I didn’t want to tell them but I’d just blown the doors open at the arena—you saw. It was violent and I didn’t mean to do it. I was scared. I told them so they might guide me.” Her words were panicked as her heart raced.

  “Yes.” He whispered, “The day before the coronation, a fortnight ago, my aunt happened to mention in passing that you had begged her to join the brothers on their journey. Pleaded with her. And she was kind enough to delay the brothers leaving until your sister’s wedding was over so you might go.” He spat his words, “Aunt Saleen made it seem as though this was your choice, and she was merely doing you a favor as you are her favorite niece.”

  Lenny parted her lips to speak and defend herself but what could she say—the queen mother was a liar? That was treason and the walls had ears. She pressed her mouth shut.

  Lord Ivor ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “Which would be why I also was told in passing that you were training with the guards. And why she had every eligible maiden for three kingdoms introducing herself to me since the night of the coronation.” He closed his eyes, gripping the wall next to him.

  Lenny’s racing heart slowed, coming to a complete stop as the words made sense in her head. Then her chest began to ache. “She doesn’t want us—” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She knew the answer. Lenny wasn’t good enough for Lord Ivor, she had known it all along.

  The wrong sort of girl.

  Not pretty or pleasant like Hilde or cultured as the other young women of the court. They’d all snubbed Lenny the instant they met her. Fawned over Hilde but ignored Lenny’s existence. As had Landon’s sisters. They hadn’t acknowledged Lenny’s existence since their boat docked in Waterly City and Lenny was rushed to the brothers.

  It took her a moment to come to terms with the fact.

  “Don’t make that face,” Lord Ivor snapped, pointing at her. She hadn’t realized he was staring. “I see you accepting your fate and it bothers me.”

  “What can I do? Call the queen a liar and go against her wishes?” Lenny was flustered.

  But Ivor was livid. “I am royal, more than she is. I am a born royal, she only married into it. My father was the brother of the king. I am an Evadarc. And I alone will decide what I do with my life.” His tone was fierce. “And you forget who the queen is now. Your sister.”

  “What if King Landon agrees with his mother that I’m not the right fit—?”

  “Lenny!” He rushed her, seizing her face again. “You saved my cousin’s life. Do you honestly think he would deny you anything? And even if he did disagree, I would never listen.” He growled, “This has nothing to do with you. Aunt Saleen is plotting.”

  “You’re wrong. She’s worried for you. I’m not a good fit for the castle and she knows it. It’s why she wanted you to marry Hilde.”

  “You’re a good fit for me.” Ivor softened again, staring down on her. “I love you, Lenny. I don’t want to discuss this further. I am sorry I let this come between us. Can you forgive me for being so blind?”

  “No, this is my fault. I should have told you.” Lenny twitched her head back and forth, hating that she’d hurt him. “You’re right. I have no control over my magic and the arena was dangerous for me. And I should have told you about the trip. I let her come between us as much as you did.”

  “Then we agree to never allow the court’s games to be played with our hearts again?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. He lowered his face, brushing his lips to hers.

  She kissed him back, melting into his strong hands as he pressed her to him.

  “I love you too, Ivor,” she whispered against his lips, creating a new fervor in him.

  And it was how she spent her evening, kissing him until her lips were swollen and the sun came up.

  The night might have been in honor of her sister, but it would always belong to Lenny and Ivor. A night spent kissing and whispering sweet nothings and everythings.

  Chapter 15

  Atop her horse, Lenny yawned again, blinking her eyes, trying to keep them open.

  “We’re only a mile from the castle grounds, Lenny,” Brother Estevan chortled. “I don’t suppose this sleepiness has anything to do with the heartbroken stare Lord Ivor wore as we departed?”

  “I have no idea what you’re speaking about,” she said with another yawn. Though the image of Lord Ivor watching her and the hounds leave the gates of the castle in Waterly City haunted her.

  As Brother Estevan had said, they were only a mile from the castle, and she was already missing Lord Ivor.

  “Gods, girl, get into the carriage and take a nap before you fall from the horse.” Brother Estevan laughed harder. “I insist!” He halted the horses and Lenny dropped down, yawning until her eyes watered as she staggered over to the carriage. The brothers inside moved over so she might find a spot.

  “Don’t lose my dogs!” Lenny shouted but before the door closed. Scar jumped in, sitting nervously next to Lenny. “Don’t lose Ollie!”

  “It’s not as if he’s hard to miss. He’s nearly the size of the horse Brother Bhandal is riding.” Brother Estevan scoffed and the carriage began moving again.

  Scar rested her head on Lenny’s lap. Lenny closed her eyes and ran her fingers over the dog’s cheeks, stroking gently until the noise faded and she fell asleep.

  The dream came straightaway. The long hallway, the billowing white curtains, the lig
ht flooding in, and a voice she knew and yet couldn’t recall from where. It was a woman. She spoke as though singing, and yet there was no tune. And her words were rushed, desperate and almost whispered.

  “Hello?” Lenny called into the stark light, noting how cold it was in the hallway. She could see her breath.

  She turned to one of the windows as she walked by, but the light coming in glowed brightly, making it impossible to see out. Squinting away from it, she continued down the hall of never-ending windows.

  The voice of the mystery woman became louder, only slightly, but enough that Lenny could hear her words. It was a prayer, an ancient one in a language Lenny couldn’t recall learning. The prayer was filled with regret. The woman was begging the gods for forgiveness of her sins.

  A shadow moved in the spaces between the windows, casting darkness on the floor in the shape of a person. Lenny paused, reminding herself it was a dream, but she couldn’t fight the fear. She took a step back as the shadow grew, blocking out light.

  As the darkness took over more space, drawing closer to Lenny, she stepped back again. Her fingers lowered, feeling for the dogs, but they weren’t there. She was alone.

  “Lenny,” the shadow whispered. “I need you, Lenny.”

  “Who are you?” she asked softly, scared to raise her voice.

  “I said we’re here!” a different voice cut in, making Lenny blink. Her eyes closed and she was in the hallway. They opened and she was in the carriage.

  She forced them open, worried that if she closed them again, she would be back there, stuck in the dream.

  A man she didn’t know, a young man with a soft smile stared at her as the voice spoke again, though it visibly didn’t belong to him. “Lenny! We’re here!”

  She turned, seeing Brother Estevan scowling at her from the door of the carriage. She took a second to find her bearings and figure out where here was. “Where?”

  “The White River, of course.” He rolled his eyes and walked away, waving his hands and muttering something about traveling with girls.

  Scar and Ollie stood outside the carriage, both panting happily at her.

  “How long have I been asleep?” she asked the young man still in the carriage with her.

  He held up two fingers.

  “Two hours?”

  He shook his head.

  “Two—minutes?” she questioned the possibility of that as she asked.

  He rolled his eyes.

  “Two days?”

  He nodded and handed her a skin of water.

  “Two days? How is that possible?” She popped off the lid and let the liquid pour into her mouth. It was as if she had drunk sand to start, the water lubricating her throat and soothing the pain she felt.

  Her stomach ached and growled as the fluid filled it quickly.

  “Why did you let me sleep so long?” she asked as she wiped her mouth, too full to finish the water.

  He shook his head, losing his smile.

  “You didn’t want to wake me?” She was lost.

  He lifted his hands in a shoving gesture.

  “You couldn’t wake me?”

  He twitched his head back and forth. His stare, the heaviness of it, made her uncomfortable. Her mind replayed the dream. It was vivid. The same nightmare as always lately. She wondered if this repeating nightmare was somehow linked to what was happening to her.

  He reached into a large sack next to him and produced a shiny red apple.

  “My favorite.” She smiled and offered a nod as she took it. “Thank you.” The explosion of flavor and juice filling her mouth made her close her eyes. She was starved and worried. Why hadn’t she woken? What was that dream? Why did it keep repeating?

  As she ate every bit of juicy flesh from the apple, she climbed out, noticing the cramping in her legs. It was the same as when she held her breath too long. The brother handed her another piece of fruit, this time a plump pear.

  “Thank you, again.” She took it and dug in, fighting a moan as the sweet and grainy texture of the ripe pear burst inside her mouth. She ate quickly, unable to slow down, ravenous and thirsty.

  Her stomach grumbled and groaned as she took in the surroundings.

  She’d never seen the White River before. It was beautiful, surrounded by rolling green hills and a sparse forest on either side. To the right was Mudfork Lake. She could just make out the mouth of the river that fed the lake. The water here was deep emerald green, matching the grasslands, hills, and forests.

  The sky was the only contrast for miles. It was lush, the sort of damp lushness she had only heard of. The air was clean, the opposite of Waterly City, but heavy, not like Blockley at all. There was no ocean or freshness to it. Here the breeze carried with it more nature than she had ever smelled.

  Ollie and Scar took it in as well.

  “Why are we here?” Lenny asked as she munched the last of the pear and fed the core to Ollie. He gobbled it up.

  “You shouldn’t feed him the core,” Brother Estevan said, not watching her but staring at the hills on the opposite side of the river. “The seeds in apples and pears are poisonous. Filled with cyanide.”

  “What?” Lenny gasped and turned to Ollie, forcing her hands into his mouth and scraping the pear core from him. He tried to eat it as she picked it out so she threw the gooey scraps into the river. “Come have some water!” She pulled him to the river, splashing with her hands in the shallow and rocky part. He and Scar lowered their faces and drank.

  “What did you dream of, Lenny? We couldn’t wake you. I assumed it was similar to a trance, one you needed to be in.”

  “It was a nightmare I’ve had many times.” Lenny washed her hands again before standing and wiping them on her pants. “I’ve eaten those seeds a lot.”

  “You’re fine. Just don’t eat any more.” He sighed. “Describe the nightmare, child.”

  “A long hallway with billowing white curtains that stretch from the ceiling to the floor. They’re sheer and the breeze coming in the windows makes them lift and swish along the wooden floor. The hallway is so long I can’t see the end of it.” She shuddered as she recalled it. “There’s a woman; she’s speaking softly but panicking. She’s desperate for the gods to forgive her sins. She’s speaking a language I don’t know how I understand, but I do.”

  “Was it a goddess? Did she say her name?”

  “No.” Lenny shook her head, meeting his gaze. “I don’t know who the woman is and the man is made of shadow. As he moves closer, speaking to me in a deep whisper, he becomes clearer and I can make him out. And for some reason, I am afraid of him.”

  “Did you see his face?”

  “A few times I have. Pale but golden skin. A trimmed beard. Dark hair.” Lenny closed her eyes, scared of what was in there but it was truly just her memories. The dream was gone. “A scar over his right eye and down onto his cheek. Yellowish-green eyes. They almost glow.” She blushed as she realized he was handsome. There was a curve to his lips Brother Estevan didn’t want to hear about, or maybe she didn’t want to share. A way his eyes bore into her soul. Something about his velvety deep voice that called to parts of her she hadn’t woken before.

  Before kissing Ivor.

  But now she imagined kissing the lips of the man in her dream, or rather remembered. She knew how soft they would feel. She could smell him, incense and ambergris and something else, something raw and musky.

  “Lenny!”

  She opened her eyes.

  “You did it again.” Brother Estevan’s eyes narrowed. “Where did you go, just now?”

  “To his face. I know it, somehow. I just don’t recall where from. He might have come into Blockley on a ship.”

  “And have you ever had dreams before that you couldn’t wake from?” Brother Estevan asked quietly, processing.

  “No. Never before this.” Lenny sighed. “Two days seems so long to sleep and still be tired.” She stifled a yawn.

  “And you’re certain no gods or goddesses visited y
ou in the sleep?”

  “I could not guess who either of them is.”

  “All right.” He sighed. “You must eat some more, replenish your strength.” He held a hand up, pointing at a small cabin on the river’s edge. “We will have dinner ready soon and spend the night here.”

  “You never answered me—why we are here?”

  “There is something to be seen.” He lifted his eyebrows and wandered off along the bank.

  Lenny scowled at the hounds. “Cryptic,” she whispered as she sat on a dry spot under a tall willow tree and watched the river flow along the swampy edges.

  They were at the base of the western side of the Brown Mountains, a spot Lenny had never seen before. She’d only ridden along them on the King’s Road. Here next to Mudfork Lake the mountains were smaller and slowly melted away into rolling hills. She imagined in the winter this would be a spectacular place to visit. She’d heard of people ice fishing on the lake when the winds were coldest in January after Yule celebrations ended.

  Scar nestled her head on Lenny’s lap, closing her eyes. Ollie watched the brothers carrying trunks from the carriage and working away in the small cabin.

  Lenny wondered if she should help them but the truth was, she hadn’t a drop of energy needed to do anything. She lifted long strands of grass and braided them loosely, creating a crown as Amaya would have, had she been there. She plucked tiny white flowers that were growing in the grass and placed them in a couple of twists of the braid.

  Guilt pricked at Lenny as she placed the wreath crown on Scar’s sleeping head. It reminded Lenny of Amaya’s engagement and Hilde’s wedding.

  “I should have been faster,” she whispered, not sure whom she was speaking to.

  The images played over in her mind: Amaya, Ollie, the lupine, Lenny. Then Wen and Amaya sinking below in the water. Wen’s mother cackling like something from a tale she’d heard as a child, her fingers dark as the midnight sky, tainted by evil doings.

  Her uncle had said the girl who washed ashore in Blockley, naked as a babe, had the same fingers. Lenny paused and thought of the scullery maid. Naked with dirty fingers. Lord Ivor had stated that she was naked with dirty fingers.