by C. J. Archer
"Perhaps," I said on a sigh. "But what of your past?"
"I do not like thinking of the past. Only future."
"What of your loved ones?"
He picked up his cup and flicked his hair back over his shoulder. "I do not wish to think of them if I can never know them."
"Don't give up, Erik."
"The king is gone. Nobody else knows where we came from."
There was no point to the discussion. He would continue to put on a brave face, yet I knew underneath he was as anxious as the rest of them. It was written in their somber faces, their sad eyes. They weren't sad for the loss of their king but for the opportunity he represented—the opportunity to find out about their pasts. He'd been their only connection to it.
Quentin joined me and asked quiet questions about the position of the stab wound, the damage it might have caused to internal organs, and subsequent blood loss. I answered him by rote, hardly thinking. My gaze wandered to Dane frequently. He spoke to Max for a time, then to each of his men, one by one, offering them reassuring words or gestures. Finally, he told Theodore to take Balthazar to his room. The master of the palace looked exhausted. The day had taken its toll on him.
"Do you want me to check on him?" I asked Dane when he rejoined me.
"He's fine. He's tired and blames himself for not confronting Leon earlier."
"Poor, Bal. Theo looks lost too."
He watched them leave and asked me if I was ready to return to the village.
We walked together to the stables. The forecourts were eerily quiet, with no nobles wandering about. They were probably all meeting in small groups, discussing the future of the kingdom and their role in shaping it. The dukes would be shoring up their supporters, now no longer allies but rivals for the vacant throne. The nobles would most likely leave the palace within days to go home and plot. I only hoped I would get to see Kitty and Miranda before they left.
"Do you want me to saddle Sky?" the stable boy asked.
Dane hesitated then said, "Let Sky rest. Josie can ride with me."
I settled on Lightning with Dane at my back. His solid, familiar presence was a reassurance, but it wasn't until I felt his body sigh when we left the estate behind that I realized he might need reassuring too.
"Are you all right?" I asked.
"I'm frustrated the one person who could give us answers is gone."
I turned in the saddle to see him better. "It's more than that, though. You lost someone today, Dane. The king may not have been your friend, but he was a constant in your life. He had a big impact on it. Indeed, your entire life revolved around him, from the moment you woke to the moment you went to bed."
His gaze lowered to mine, his eyes two oceans of the deepest blue. "Not my entire life. There are other influences too," he said, his voice smoky. "They might not take up as much time, but they were more important."
I reached up and stroked his cheek and jaw. He turned into my hand and kissed my wrist before focusing forward again. His arms tightened ever so slightly around me.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "I needed this."
We rode in silence until the village came into view. The sight of it offered me no comfort. I no longer had a home to go to in Mull, no sanctuary to call my own, where I could be myself. Losing a set of walls and some furniture shouldn't have mattered, but it did, and my heart weighed heavy in my chest.
As if he knew, Dane's arms tightened again. "I don't know what happens next," he said, a note of vulnerability threading his voice.
I leaned into him and folded my arm over his. "Nor do I, but we'll find out together."
Chapter 17
"Josie, wake up." Meg's voice hardly registered in my sleepy state, but her violent shake of my shoulder certainly did. "Wake up, Josie."
"I'm awake," I mumbled. "Is it one of my patients?"
"No. Something happened at your house, last night."
Weak dawn light filtered through the window, but Meg was fully dressed. She looked worried, and that made me sit up straight. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Is someone hurt?"
"The sheriff is here. He wants to speak to you about a commotion at your house."
"It's not my house anymore."
She helped me dress quickly, and we joined Sheriff Neerim in the kitchen, where he was eating oat cakes covered in honey. Mistress Diver poured tea into his cup and offered me one.
"I'm sorry to wake you, Josie," the sheriff said, indicating I should sit.
"Are the Ashmoles all right?" I asked, accepting the cup from Mistress Diver. "Meg said something happened to them."
"They're fine. They were tied up in their beds."
Mistress Diver and Meg gasped.
"Merdu, that's awful," I muttered. "Who would do such a thing?"
The sheriff concentrated on his oat cakes. "These are delicious. Better than my wife makes, but don't tell her." He avoided looking at me—and answering.
"You think I did it?" I cried. "Sheriff, I had nothing to do with it."
"Josie never left the house," Meg said hotly. "Honestly, Sheriff, how could you think she would do something like that?"
The sheriff licked honey off his fingers. "I don't think Josie did it, but the Ashmoles wanted me to question her, so here I am."
Mistress Diver had been about to slide another oat cake onto the sheriff's plate, but she withdrew the pan. "The Ashmoles are new to the village, so I'll forgive them for jumping to conclusions about Josie, but you, Sheriff, you know her well. She wouldn't tie people up in their own beds during the night. That's utter madness."
"I know she wouldn't," he said again.
"Then why come here at all?"
"Because I need to be seen doing my duty." His gaze connected with mine. "Particularly now."
"You're right," I conceded. "You have a job to do."
"You're not strong enough to overpower both of them anyway. You're also not the type," he added when both Meg and Mistress Diver protested again. "I've told the Ashmoles as much, but they still insisted I question you. Meg, you sleep in the same room as Josie, don't you?"
"Yes," she said.
"The same bed too, and I'm sure you're a very light sleeper."
"Actually— Ow." Meg rubbed the back of her neck where her mother pinched her. "Yes, same bed, light sleeper. I would have noticed her get up."
"Thought as much." Sheriff Neerim offered Mistress Diver his plate, but she didn't take it. She slid the extra oat cake onto it and dribbled honey over the top.
"Don't go yet," she said. "You haven't finished. Tell us, why were the Ashmoles tied up in their beds?"
"Someone rifled through their things. Well, not so much through their things but through the house. They emptied drawers, moved furniture around, pulled up loose stones and boards, and generally left the place in a real mess."
"It seems like they were looking for something," Meg said. "I wonder what."
My stomach dropped. I felt sick. The Ashmoles were partly right; it was my fault their house was searched. It was searched because it used to belong to me, and someone suspected Dane hid the gem there on one of his visits.
"Did the Ashmoles notice anything in particular about the intruder?" I asked.
The sheriff shook his head. "It was one person, they said, but they didn't see his or her face."
"What did he say to them?" Meg asked.
"The intruder didn't speak. It seems he or she tied them up to keep them out of the way while he conducted his search. Whoever did it didn't seem to think they could assist him."
"How strange," Mistress Diver said.
Sheriff Neerim finished his oat cake and licked all of his fingers. "I'd best be off."
I followed him to the door, Meg at my heels. "What was the village like last night?" I asked. "Aside from the Ashmoles' situation, I mean. Was there more unrest?"
"It was quiet," he said. "Everyone was too busy gossiping about the king's death and speculating about what will happen next. The people are worried. No
one knows what to expect. This has never happened before."
"It's sudden and shocking," Meg agreed. "I can't imagine how the servants must feel."
"Captain Hammer tells me you witnessed the assassination, Josie," the sheriff said.
I nodded. "It was awful."
"And you didn't see which way the assassin went?"
"No."
"Nor did the captain, so he tells me. He says the sergeant fled." He plucked his hat from the table by the door and settled it on his head. "I can't think why the captain didn't chase him."
I swallowed and nodded along.
"I never liked or trusted Sergeant Brant," the sheriff said. "He reminds me of too many thugs I've arrested. If you see him, Josie, stay out of his way. Stay out of the Ashmoles' way, too. They don't like you."
I watched him go, and then my gaze fell on the door of my old house opposite. Had Dane hidden the gem there on one of his visits? If so, where? And did he intend to retrieve it?
Meg and I decided to venture into the village later in the morning to hear the gossip for ourselves. It was just as the sheriff said, and everyone seemed anxious about the future of Glancia, and Mull in particular. The dukes' names were mentioned frequently.
"They haven't left the palace yet," one woman said.
"They'll probably stay for the king's burial," said another.
"My husband says they're staying to shore up support from the other lords. It's convenient, having most under the one roof."
"Except for the Deerhorns. They left last night."
The same sentiments were repeated over and over. Brant's name came up too, always with a shudder of fear and a heavy dose of loathing for throwing the kingdom into turmoil.
Magic was never mentioned, and nor was the gemstone.
"Why do you think Brant did it?" Meg asked as we returned to her house.
I merely shrugged, not willing to add to the lies I'd already told her.
"He must have been working for someone, but who? That Vytill lord? One of the dukes?"
I felt guilty for not offering answers, but she didn't seem to be asking for any, merely speculating.
We parted outside her house, and I went on to the graveyard. I laid wildflowers on the graves of my parents and watered the riverwart plant Dane had planted after my father's death. Its leaves wouldn't be ready for harvesting for another year but it looked healthy.
I sat under a tree and closed my eyes, grateful for the peace and quiet to think. I was so tired, after a poor night's sleep, however, that I nodded off.
The sound of my name startled me awake. "Josie."
"Dane," I said on a gasp.
He crouched beside me, his sword pushed back out of the way, his gloves clutched in his hand. "Sorry. I scared you."
"Not at all. What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you." He removed his sword belt and sat beside me, tossing the gloves on the ground. "Meg said you were here."
"Is everything all right?"
He heaved a sigh. "As much as it can be, considering yesterday's events. The servants are anxious. We've tried to allay their fears, but they know the king was the only one who could answer our questions. With him gone, some have lost all hope."
"And you?" I asked quietly.
"Not me." He stretched his fingers on the ground where his hand lay and touched the edge of my skirt. "I have more to be hopeful about than most."
I rested my hand over his, lightly trapping it.
We stayed like that for a long moment, each of us content with the silence, neither prepared to break it or end the contact. It did more to comfort me than any words could have.
Dane eventually withdrew his hand, however. "Brant is still at the palace."
"I thought he fled."
"He came back early this morning. We talked. He was contrite."
"That's something, I suppose. I thought he'd be angry you kept the location of the real gem from him."
"He asked about it, and I repeated what I said yesterday. No one else knows where it is, and no one will. He understood my reasoning." He stared into the distance. "He asked me if he could stay at the palace, in hiding. He wants to remain with us, near the other servants. He's not ready to face the world alone without his memories."
"And did you agree or did you throw him in prison?"
"I agreed." He smirked. "It's still a punishment, of sorts. The servants know it was he who killed the king and are angry with him. So far he has borne their anger, but his temper may get the better of him again. His real concern is the nobles. If any who witnessed him assassinating the king see Brant, they might demand I arrest him."
"So he's remaining well hidden?"
"He is."
"Do you think he will try to find the gem?"
He nodded. "I spoke with the sheriff this morning. He told me he spoke to you in relation to an incident at the Ashmoles'."
"Do you think it was Brant looking for the gem?"
"It's possible. I'll speak to him when I get back to the palace."
I wondered if he would merely speak to Brant or if he intended to use brute strength and violence—the language the sergeant understood, according to Dane. I didn't ask. I didn't want to know. It could ruin these moments of shared peace.
"How long are the dukes and other nobles expected to remain at the palace?" I asked.
"It's unclear. Certainly until after the burial, perhaps longer. Each duke is trying to convince the noblemen to follow him instead of the other." He huffed out a breath. "Once allies, now enemies."
"I heard the Deerhorns have returned home."
"They have. The Duke of Buxton left the palace to speak to them just before I came to the village."
"Has magic been mentioned by any nobles?"
He shook his head. "It seems the dukes don't believe anything Brant told them."
"I don't blame them. He sounded mad and his claims were fanciful. They were willing to believe when it suited them, however."
"It no longer matters how the king gained the throne. Not to them."
I sighed and rested my head back against the tree trunk. "I feel as though the world has moved back through time. This is how everyone felt when we heard King Alain was dying, before Leon came forward. There was so much uncertainty about the future, so much anxiety. It's happening all over again. I hate the dukes for putting us through this." I lifted my head again. "Don't tell Kitty I said that. If you see her and Miranda, can you pass on a message for me?"
"Of course."
"Tell them I'd like to see them before they return home if they're able to spare the time."
"I'm sure they will make the time for you, Josie, unless they have to leave in a hurry. Gladstow is unlikely to tell his wife anything until the last possible moment."
"He doesn't trust her?"
"Nothing like that. He simply doesn't like or respect her, so I'm told. My own observations support that theory."
"Poor Kitty," I said on a sigh. "I can't imagine being married to such a horrid man."
We fell into silence again, and my thoughts wandered back to magic and the two unused wishes. "I wonder what will happen to them."
"Perhaps nothing," he said. "Perhaps three full wishes have been restored for the gem's next finder to use."
"You know where it is. You could find it and claim the wishes."
"It might have moved. The sorcerer could have hidden it somewhere it won't be discovered for hundreds of years."
"So you haven't checked if it’s still there?"
He gave me a sly smile. "Is this your way of attempting to find out where I hid it?"
"I know you well enough to know you won't tell me, and I can't trick you into telling me. You're stubborn and a man of your word."
"I'm going to take that as a compliment."
I laughed softly. "I can list a lot of good things about you, but being stubborn isn't one of them."
"I'm going to disagree about that. Stubbornly." He smiled and nudged me with h
is elbow.
I smiled and nudged him back, then I blushed. I looked away so he couldn't see and we fell into silence again, but this time it felt awkward, as if something hung between us, something I couldn't quite grasp.
"I should go," Dane said. He didn't get up, and I finally looked at him. "But I don't want to," he added. "I'm tired of trying to keep the peace at the palace and in Mull. The graveyard is the quietest place I know. I can think here, or not think at all."
"You should come every day to clear your head. I often do." Too late I realized he wouldn't want to risk running into me every day. My presence might not help clear his head.
He still made no attempt to get up. "I've been thinking about something."
"Yes?" I asked, breathily.
"It might be significant. Or it might not be." He shook his head. "That didn't make sense."
It didn't sound like a personal matter, nor did he seem troubled by it, but rather confused. "Out with it," I said.
He turned to me. "The Rift was a series of earthquakes, wasn't it?"
I nodded. "They happened close together, within a matter of weeks. They were so strong, they caused The Thumb to break away from the mainland peninsula."
"And shortly afterward, Leon was declared the heir to the Glancian throne by King Alain."
"You think the two things are linked? You think the sorcerer caused The Rift to fulfill the king's—Leon's—wish?"
"I don't know, but ever since the idea struck me, I haven't been able to shake it. I found some documents in the library about The Rift, but they said little more than you did, that it was a series of earthquakes. Do you remember what Leon said as he lay dying? That he combined two wishes into one?"
"To be a rich king." I was beginning to put the pieces together too. "The sorcerer chose Glancia because the succession was in doubt, and King Alain's son's visit to Freedland, years ago, provided the perfect means for a secret love child to exist."
"All the sorcerer needed to do was create a document declaring Leon the legitimate grandson of King Alain and hide the document somewhere no one would question its authority when found."
