by Amanda Fleet
“I’d prefer to be out here.”
“Okay. I’ll bring you nightclothes and bedding and leave you in peace.”
He fetched a bundle from the bedroom and handed it to me. “Goodnight. Sleep well.”
He withdrew to the bedroom. I glanced around. The hard wooden chair next to the desk was of the same kind of style as a kitchen chair back home. I moved it, tipping it and resting it against the door to the bedroom so that the slightest movement would make the chair crash to the floor.
The bundle Faran had given me contained some loose shorts and a shirt-like top, which I assumed was night attire here. A cream linen sheet and a feather-filled quilt in soft shades of heather made up the remainder of the bundle.
Despite the glass ceiling allowing me to drink in the myriad stars and an infinity of space above me, the walls of the room closed in on me. What the hell was I doing here? Would I ever be able to leave?
I made myself a nest from the bedding and flipped to the pictures at the back of the sketchbook.
“Goodnight, Munchkin. I love you.”
8
I woke with a start, my hair plastered to my forehead with sweat. Dawn was breaking and an ethereal light smudged the boundaries between dreams and reality. I turned over and burrowed deeper into the quilt. Christ, last night’s dreams could win prizes.
I woke fully and scanned my surroundings.
“Fuck. This wasn’t a dream.”
My head whipped up at the clattering of the wooden chair at the bedroom door. Faran picked the chair up by the top rail of its back and carried it into the room, chuckling his approval of the trick. I gulped. He should definitely be wearing more than just a pair of shorts. You could grate cheese on his abs.
“Good morning, my lady. Did you sleep well?”
I nodded, keeping my eyes locked on his face. No one should be allowed to look that good straight out of bed.
“You?” My voice squeaked.
He plonked the chair down in its place next to the desk. “Yes, thank you. Do you want to shower?”
“You go first. Then you can put some more clothes on.”
As soon as he’d gone, I moved the chair back to its night-time position. Ten minutes later it rattled to the floor and Faran emerged, fully clothed, his hair tousled and damp. He lifted the chair up with one hand and replaced it next to the desk, amusement flooding his face.
He motioned to it. “Unless you want to jam it under the door handle when you go to dress?” One brow quirked upwards.
I did, but said nothing.
“Bedroom and bathroom are all yours. I promise to stay out here.”
In the bedroom, the bed had just a bottom sheet and a single crumpled pillow on it. I grabbed some clothes and swiftly washed and dressed, but he was true to his word and stayed in the outer room. When I joined him there, he stared at my chest, half a smile tweaking his lips.
“Is my top laced properly?” I asked.
He shook his head, eyes mischievous. “Let me teach you.” He stood in front of me and loosened off all the lacing I’d done.
He talked me through how to draw the lacing into cups and tie it off properly, without touching me. Nonetheless, my cheeks were aflame by the time we’d finished.
He stepped back, holding his hands up in peace. “The first bell will be any moment. Shall we go to the Great Hall?”
“Sure. Did you give me all the bedding last night?”
“Yes.”
“There were no spares?”
He tilted his head. “Why would there be spare bedding? The temperature never changes in the city. We have one bed, so there is one set of bedding.”
“I didn’t realise. Sorry. Were you cold?”
“No.”
I poked my tongue into my cheek. “You’re a terrible liar.”
He laughed. “Yes, I was cold, but it doesn’t matter.” He offered the crook of his arm to me, waiting until I took it before leading me to the hall.
“How come the temperature here never changes?” I asked as we walked.
“The underfloor heating keeps it constant.”
“Oh. Is there anywhere to run in The Realm?”
“Somewhere to run? If you went outside the city walls, you could run. The city is surrounded by countryside,” he said doubtfully.
“How do you get there? How far is it?” I tried to clock the runes in the panelling as we walked. C 02? “C” for Central?
He peered down at me. “Well, it’s a long way to get to the countryside. No one from the city goes there.”
“No one?”
“No Guardians. Except to go to some of the other towns on business. No one would go to visit. Or to run. Why do you want to run?”
“It keeps me fit. Stops me being cranky.”
“Cranky?” His brow wrinkled.
“Grumpy. Crotchety. And don’t you run to keep fit?”
“Are you suggesting I’m not fit?” he said, a challenge in his tone.
I thought back to when he’d arrived in the outer room in only his under-shorts. “No.”
He smirked.
We reached the Great Hall, and he steered me towards an empty table in the corner.
“We should talk about this morning.” He evidently saw no further point to the discussion of his level of fitness or of going for a run.
I slid into the space opposite him. As before, meat figured highly on the menu; breakfast was a plate of bacon and eggs with bread along with the ubiquitous jug of water. I eyed the food, wondering if this really was bacon and eggs or if the animals here were entirely different from home. I poured us both some water. My brain craved coffee.
“The Council needs to hear what Outside is like,” said Faran. “No Guardian has any current knowledge and I don’t know how good the Scouts’ reports are. You’re in a unique position.”
“Too much of a traitor to be allowed to take my place on the Council or go Outside; trusted enough to offer advice. Yeah, that sounds unique.”
He sighed heavily. “Do you remember me advising you to show respect and contrition?”
I drained my cup of water. “Not my strengths.”
He flicked a brow up, breathing out hard. “No. They never were. Please try to be more respectful when the Council questions you.”
“What will they want to know?”
The table next to us filled, and he paused, eyes watchful. The four middle-aged Guardians who’d sat down seemed far more interested in their conversation than in ours.
Faran looked back to me. “How plagues would be recorded. How deaths are noted. They’ll want to know when there are more deaths occurring, as a sign that Aegyir has reformed and is gaining strength.”
I thought for a moment, chewing some bacon. A group of Guardians passed our table, ‘accidentally’ knocking my arm and muttering, “Traitor.” Faran shot them a hard stare, but it bounced off their backs. The table next to us looked up at the disturbance and one of the men locked gazes with me, his lips thinning. He shifted his attention to Faran, then dropped his gaze back to his food. I stole a glance at Faran. He’d straightened in his seat and radiated authority. I definitely wouldn’t mess with him when he looked like that.
I cleared my throat, lightly. “If Aegyir has any sense, he’ll move away from the area until he’s gained the strength he needs. Unless the Scouts are travelling widely or know how to access information, they may not spot if there are more deaths than normal.”
Faran digested this. “How would they access such information?”
“News – either on the telly or in the papers. The internet.” He looked blank, and I laughed. “My point, exactly. None of you knows what these things are or how to find them.”
“Could you teach the Scouts?”
I pursed my lips. “Depends on how much they already know.”
“If they know nothing?” he asked softly, his voice barely carrying above the clatter of cutlery and chatter around us.
I stared at him. Was he tryi
ng to imply that he didn’t think the Scouts were doing their job? “No. I don’t think I could teach them everything. Not unless I had a long time. After Aegyir reforms, how many people would he need to kill to be strong enough not to need an invite?”
“A lot.”
He glanced up. Lord Sondan stood at our table and Faran invited him to join us. Lord Sondan sat and one of the serving boys came over. Lord Sondan waved him away.
“I’ve eaten. I heard you discussing Aegyir,” said Lord Sondan, pushing his hand through his hair, revealing the white streak at the front. “What do you think the Guardians should do?” He directed his question to Faran, as if I wasn’t there.
Faran scratched his ear. “It depends on what the Scouts say. Aeron wonders if Aegyir would move away from the area by the portals after he reforms. If he does, would the Scouts know where? Or how to look for him?”
“Would you?” Lord Sondan looked directly at me, undisguised loathing in the curl of his lip.
“Yes,” I replied, thinking Don’t diss the only help you’ve got!
“Lord Father is unlikely to allow her to leave The Realm,” said Faran, his voice soft as if trying to defuse the tension.
It didn’t work. Lord Sondan’s lips thinned further. “No.”
“We should walk,” said Faran. “The second bell is due.”
The three of us left the noise and bustle of the Great Hall and made our way to the gardens. I took Faran’s left arm; Lord Sondan walked on his right.
Unlike the Great Hall and its surroundings, the gardens were open to the elements. Clouds obscured the sky, and the air was cool. I breathed in deeply, relishing the fresh air. Faran sneaked a smile at me.
The gardens covered a space about the size of a football pitch and were laid out formally. Paths divided the space, with overflowing flower borders between them. Fruit trees were trained against the boundary walls. We strolled down a side path, the gravel crunching beneath our boots.
“If the Scouts aren’t bringing accurate information, the Council won’t know when Aegyir is a threat,” said Lord Sondan, still talking only to Faran. “We could send a group of Guardians out. If they encounter Aegyir, they could kill him and trap him. If not, they could gather intelligence.”
“Forgive me for interrupting,” I said. “But if any of you go Outside dressed like that, you’ll draw a lot of attention.”
Faran glanced down at me. “Why?”
“Don’t you remember the clothes I arrived in? No one Outside dresses like this.” I indicated their jackets and trousers. “And few people Outside are as tall as you. The combination would be… eye-catching.”
Faran held my gaze, thoughtful. “Can you draw outfits that the seamstresses and tailors could make?”
“I thought that the Council had agreed that this is Lady Aeron, a Guardian, not a seamstress,” said Lord Sondan.
“More than one string to my bow,” I muttered, making Faran smirk. “Who knows? Maybe all Guardians can draw but you’ve never tried. And to answer your question, Faran, yes, I could draw pictures of the kinds of things people wear Outside, but if you’ve only got wool or leather to make it with, it might still look a bit weird. And you’ll still all be tall. And with no more clue about how to find Aegyir or spot if there are increased deaths than the Scouts have.”
“What do you suggest?” said Lord Sondan.
“That I go too. At least you’d get some intelligence, even if you don’t kill Aegyir. I’d give you a much better chance of finding him than if you go without me.”
We reached the far end of the gardens and turned to come back, keeping to the peripheral path rather than cutting through the centre past the fountain. Cliques of Guardians walked together, though they all seemed to avoid us. Or maybe they were just avoiding me.
“How would you guarantee that you’re not leading us into a trap,” asked Lord Sondan.
“I couldn’t. I could only give you my word.”
Lord Sondan glared at me. “Not worth very much any longer, Lady Aeron.”
Faran’s arm tightened against my hand and I held my tongue. Lord Sondan bowed curtly and stalked away.
“Father won’t agree to you going,” said Faran, leading me back towards the main building. “And I don’t want you Outside. Aegyir has too many reasons to kill you.”
“Except he can’t, if I’m a Guardian.”
“He can if he’s strong enough. And his vassals can, however strong you are. Come. The Council will meet soon.”
***
Despite not being allowed to sit on the Council, Lord Eredan gave permission for me to come in and hear the report from the Senior Librarian, Kristen. As soon as she was sworn in, she faced the Council, notebook in hand, her posture so straight I wondered if someone had impaled her and a metal rod now ran up her spine.
“First Lord. Council members. Oh. Lady Aeron.” She grimaced over the name. “I’ve been searching the archives and the reference books. Given what Lady Aeron described yesterday, I think Aegyir will have been dispersed. The picture isn’t entirely clear. If he was on Realm soil, with three Guardians to contain the energy, he would have made a tighter ball of dispersion. If he was on Realm soil but without three Guardians, the dispersion would be tight at the point of decapitation, but would subsequently disperse rapidly. If he wasn’t on Realm soil, dispersion would be broad. From Lady Aeron’s description, I think that he was partly on Realm soil, which is why the smoke appeared like a column. However, with only Lady Aeron to try to contain it, and then with her leaving the site, dispersion will have been broad.”
Lord Eredan snapped his fingers at her, encouraging her to get to the crux of the matter and she hurried on.
“Given all that, the archives and references in the library indicate that it would take perhaps six to eight months for Aegyir to reform to a wraith. How he progressed after that would depend on how frequently he took energy and the way in which he took it.”
Lord Eredan thanked her and asked if anyone had any questions. No one did, and she was allowed to leave. I wondered what Aegyir’s plan had been. He’d have known I couldn’t kill him and trap him in a vessel. Had he believed he could torture me into inviting him in? I doubted that getting dispersed by me had been part of the design, but maybe it was a risk worth taking.
“Six to eight months Outside is three or four days here. One of those days has nearly passed already,” said Lord Eredan, standing in the middle of the space. “The Council must decide whether we risk sending a group of Guardians Outside to bring Aegyir here to be dealt with, or whether we wait and see if he will force his way into The Realm. There have been discussions over whether the reports from the Scouts are accurate. At present, they report no increased death rate Outside, but as we have heard, Aegyir won’t have reformed yet. Lady Aeron, perhaps you would share your expertise relating to Outside with the Council.”
I stood, my heart fluttering. “With respect, Lord Eredan, it’d be more useful if I could ask the Scouts about their reports.”
In the corner of my eye, I saw Faran’s head sag slightly, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Lord Eredan bristled.
Lord Sondan rose. “I can’t see why not. Call the Senior Scout?”
With a scowl, Lord Eredan nodded. “If you must.”
There was a short hiatus while the Senior Scout, Aned, was called and sworn in. As Aned took his oath, I studied him, wondering if I’d recognise him, given that the Scouts were Outside every couple of months or so. He didn’t seem familiar. Curly light brown hair surrounded a round face with sharp blue eyes. He gave the impression of being portly, but it was probably just that he wasn’t ripped like all the Guardians.
He stared back at me, but the usual waves of hostility towards me from everyone here were replaced with caution from him.
While a clerk tidied the card with the oath on away, I took the opportunity to marshal my thoughts. Eventually, Lord Eredan indicated that I could ask my questions.
“Thank you, Lord Ere
dan. Aned, could you describe where you’ve been gathering information and what your sources were?”
He puffed himself up and peered down his long nose at me. “Lady Aeron. My team of Scouts have been surveilling the area around the main portal, listening to conversations between Outsiders. There is currently little talk of plague or death.”
This was what the Council were going on? I tried not to gape. “Thank you. How far from the portal have the Scouts been?”
“Oh, a morning’s walk, Lady Aeron. At least.” He said it with pride, as if he’d far surpassed his brief.
“Not any further?”
Aned gave Lord Eredan a puzzled look. “We have no horses Outside, Lady Aeron. We don’t stay Outside beyond a day.”
Was transport here just a horse? I glanced at Faran but got no clues from his expression.
“May I ask what the Scouts were wearing?” I said.
This threw him and his head turned sharply towards Lord Eredan who indicated for him to answer.
“The same as this, Lady Aeron,” Aned said cautiously.
‘This’ was a pair of woollen trousers in a brown-green colour with a woollen tunic of a darker brown belted over the top. He could have played an extra in Robin Hood. I’d never seen anyone lurking Outside wearing these clothes. I stole another glance at Faran but couldn’t quite read his expression. Dismay? Curiosity?
“Thank you, Aned. Other than listening to Outsiders in conversation, what other sources of information did you use?”
“Lady Aeron?”
“Er, did you read any newspapers? Did you have access to television? Did you find out what’s being said on the internet?”
Aned’s brow creased, and he turned to Lord Eredan.
“Lady Aeron, what are these things?” asked Lord Eredan, frowning.
“Newspapers are large sheets of paper with the latest news about Outside printed on them.” I hurried on at the flummoxed looks around me. “Television is a mass entertainment system. Almost everybody has what looks like a glass-fronted panel in their house and images and sound are played on them. Most of it’s entertainment – stories – but there are also news programmes.” The Council members scrunched their faces up, trying to follow along. “The internet is a public information system which you access through machines. You can get news on it and people discuss current events there. There are also radios which are similar to televisions except they’re sound only. Aned, do you find that people Outside talk to one another much?”