by Grace Martin
I tried to defuse the situation. I went to the table with the goblets. ‘A glass of wine?’ I poured wine into the goblet and offered it to her.
‘You are not the hostess here!’ she ground through rigid teeth. ‘Don’t offer me a drink like you’re the lady and I’m the guest. This is my suite. I always stay here when I come to Cairnagorn. You’re just some urchin that Mother took pity on. She’ll change her mind soon enough, and I will go back to my rightful place as her heir.’
Thief of the Throne, they called her in my time. I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t really care who took the throne. I only cared about my Sparrow. ‘Whatever,’ I muttered, and tossed the wine back in three big swallows. ‘I’m going to bed.’
I went into my room. I went pretty quickly, though, because the goblet she flung at me would have knocked me out if I hadn’t shut the door smartly. She shrieked in frustration, but she shrieked alone. I smirked and smirked alone, but that’s the best way to do it.
I stayed on the other side of the door, though, listening to Aoife rage, and then cry angry tears in the other room. The last time I was in these rooms was when I found out I was pregnant.
I was thirteen. Maldwyn was the father of my child.
Elisabeth and I had come in here to play. Elisabeth poured water from the jug we brought with us into the fancy goblets and offered it to me, just as I’d offered Aoife a drink a moment ago. She held out a sandwich to me. My stomach roiled, as it so often did back then. I put my hand on my belly and shook my head.
‘I don’t think I want the sandwich, Sparrow. I feel kinda sick. Anyway, I’m getting fat.’
‘Fat?’ Her eyes were full of pity. ‘Hawk, don’t you think you need to admit what’s happening?’
I still had my hand on my belly. I think I’d already known, but I hadn’t dared speak one word about it in case I could make the whole situation go away, simply by not talking about it.
‘Sparrow, it can’t be real… I can’t be a mother.’
Elisabeth put the goblet back on the table. ‘You may not be the nice one, but you’re not the dumb one, Hawk. You know you’re going to have a baby.’
I took a step back and rested against the wall, tipping my head back and staring at the ceiling, trying to stop the tears from falling. ‘Sparrow, I hate him so much, I wish he was dead.’ I slid down the wall, drew my knees up to my chest and wrapped my hands around them. I couldn’t stop the tears. I was only thirteen years old.
Now, nearly five years later, I was just in the next room, pressed up against the door. I peeled myself away from it, my arms wrapped tight around my waist, and headed for the bed. I curled up on it, shaking all over.
I’d given birth before my fourteenth birthday. We were still in Maldwyn’s care. I named the baby David. Maldwyn took him away from me and told people that David was his son. And then I couldn’t tell anyone what he did to me, because if I did, he would hurt my son.
Chapter Ten
Someone woke me in the morning by touching me on the shoulder. I cried out and jerked awake. I was halfway across the bed before I realised it was just Gwen. I hadn’t thought about it, but it made sense that as the Bach Chwaer, I would have a maid.
Gwen smiled encouragingly. ‘Good morning, Bach Chwaer,’ she said, and I realised that she had no idea that I was the featherskin she’d wasted her kindness on. I tried to be kind in return, because I knew more about the conditions she lived under than she knew I did. ‘May I bring you your breakfast, Bach Chwaer?’
‘Breakfast? That would be lovely.’ I ate breakfast in bed ‒ I was going to milk this thing for all it was worth, so I stuffed myself fuller than a festival turkey. I was so full, I nearly needed to go lie down again.
Eventually, Gwen prised me out of the bed by promising that Caradoc, as the emissary of the Camiri, would be at this meeting with the Librarians too, and would probably like some company. I let her lay out sumptuous clothes, but I refused to let her dress me. You can take a good thing too far.
Aoife wasn’t in the suite when I finally did open the door. I glanced at the other side. There was a divot in the wood from where the edge of the goblet hit it. It was all I could do to check that the back of my head was intact.
Caradoc was already waiting for me. Clearly Gwen had precisely zero knowledge of human nature because she had completely failed to mention that fact. His face lit up when he saw me and something inside me lit up in response. He bowed, very correct and proper. I curtsied and there was nothing a soul would have noticed unless, perhaps, they saw our eyes.
‘May I show you the city to fill in time until the Librarians are assembled for the meeting?’ he asked. ‘Magi are gathering from all over the Thousand Counties. The meeting will not be for several hours.’
Even for him, even for Caradoc, standing there with his heart in his eyes and one hand extended towards me, even for him I couldn’t simper.
So I shrugged and said, ‘Why not?’
Cairnagorn was not as I remembered, but as we walked down each lovely street, crossed each plaza and rested in secluded spaces and public gardens, I found that I was mourning. It was like I was watching Cairnagorn get destroyed before my very eyes. All the loveliness around me would be ruined. The houses would be flattened. The arches of the caverns, illuminated and faceted like gemstones, would collapse, leaving only a pile of sharp stones that had lost their colour and their light.
Through it all, Caradoc was a perfect gentleman. He didn’t make a move on me, but the way he treated me was the most alluring experience of my life. He was gentle with me. He was polite to me. He listened to me, like I mattered; he made me laugh, like making me laugh was important to him. I had never been wooed before, but I liked it even more than being a princess.
We were heading back to the Library when I first heard someone calling my name. I missed a step. Caradoc’s arm was there, not touching, but ready in a moment to catch me if I fell.
‘Who –?’ I said, and I heard it again.
‘Emer!’
We were in a garden. I shrank back to hide in the shade of a tree. I looked around, getting my bearings. I grabbed Caradoc’s hand. ‘Come on,’ I whispered urgently. ‘Quick!’
Caradoc muttered, ‘Emer, what –!’ But when I started to run, he ran with me. I had a thousand hiding places in Cairnagorn. I headed for the hole.
It was close and I guess would be still – still? Already – be there.
It was in a garden, denuded of trees in my time, but lush and lovely now. I’d recognised it as we passed. Only now, as we ran, did I realise I been doing this all the way – checking for hiding places, making sure I knew where I could run if I had to.
And run I did. I ran so fast that Caradoc lagged behind me for a moment, pulling on my arm as he struggled to catch up. I dragged him behind me, going round the long way so we wouldn’t be seen, into the hole.
It was probably a grotto. There was a statue, something romantic that I’d never turned out of the mud in my time, that now looked down benignly at us.
‘What is it?’ Caradoc asked. I let go of his hand so I could grip my own fingers, trying to massage the feeling back into them.
‘He’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming,’ I chanted, aware that the sound would draw him straight to us, but unable to shut my damn trap.
‘He’s coming?’ Caradoc asked. He put one arm around me and held me close against him. I pushed myself even closer under his arm. With his other hand, he drew his sword.
‘Yes!’ I hissed. ‘Kill him, kill him, kill him!’
When the curtain of vines that hung down over the opening of the grotto was pulled back, I launched myself out of the hole. I didn’t even wait for Caradoc with his sword. I didn’t even use magic. I was going to kill him with my teeth.
Caradoc caught me at the last moment, hauling me back before I killed a child.
It was Maldwyn, but he was only a boy. Only a boy, but the piping childish voice was still recognisable as the voice of the man. He turned and ran away
– Caradoc standing there with a drawn sword and me prepared to bite his ears off was too much for him, poor little mite.
I was still mad. All that fear and aggression had to go somewhere, so I rounded on Caradoc.
‘He deserved it!’ I shouted. ‘That little bastard deserves to die! For the good of little girls everywhere that child should not be allowed to live!’
‘What the hell are you going on about? He’s just a boy, what harm could he do to anybody?’
A wave of rage blinded me. It was like looking into the sun. I threw myself at Caradoc, beating his head and chest until he had to catch my arms and hold me away from him. ‘Stop it!’ he shouted, an inch from my ear. ‘Emer, stop it! He’s just a kid!’
‘Just a kid now,’ I snarled, ‘but when he grows up, he is going to rape me. When I was thirteen years old, he raped me and if I could murder him now, I would. I swear I would. Are you going to let that happen to me? I thought you liked me, how could you let that monster attack me? How can you stand by and allow a little girl to be ripped apart?’
Caradoc let go of my hands. I didn’t attack him again, but I kept shouting. His face went paler and paler. He sagged back against the wall of the hole, while I shouted at him every secret I’d ever kept in my life. He said my name, ‘Emer –’ but cut off whatever else he was going to say. I could see that he been going to deny it, going to say ‘no’ or ‘that can’t be,’ but maybe he saw in my face that if he said that to me, I was going to walk away from him, and he would never have the chance to say my name again.
He said again, more softly, a prayer, ‘Emer…’ and he had tears in his eyes. He stood up straight again and reached for me. I flinched when he touched me and closed my eyes against the wave of revulsion I felt at being touched by a man. Caradoc had never made me feel this way before.
He took his hands away from me at once, held them wide as if to show good faith. ‘Emer, forgive me,’ he muttered. ‘I am so –’ he broke off and shook his head. ‘Emer, God. My God, no wonder –’
I stood there a moment and surprised even myself when I started to cry. Caradoc stayed on the other side of the hole. He folded his arms tight against his chest, his hands curled into fists. ‘Oh God, Emer,’ he groaned.
‘Caradoc, please!’ I cried. I leapt towards him again, but this time I slid my arms around his waist and buried my face against him. ‘Please, just hold me?’ His arms went around me, so tight I could barely breathe for a moment before they relaxed.
I cried so much it frightened him. His hands shook where they stroked my back and arms and smoothed my hair. It wasn’t just his hands that trembled. His whole body shook, shock ricocheting all the way through him. Eventually, when I stopped sobbing, he brought his arms tight around me again, bent his head to rest his face against my hair and started to cry.
It was like a miracle. No one had ever cried for me before except Elisabeth. I don’t think he could have said or done anything that made me feel more valued, more loved. The thought that my pain was his pain was more precious than sweet words. And when he wept for me, it was like all my fear and pain was momentarily washed away. I put my hands up so I could bring his head down to cradle it against my shoulder. I stroked the back of his neck and ran gentle fingers through his hair.
‘It’s all right,’ I crooned, which was possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever said in my life, because clearly it wasn’t. I had to say something, some soothing words to murmur to him and I didn’t know any sweet words. I’d never heard any.
When he lifted his head, he gazed at me. I knew he wanted to kiss me so much his heart was pounding with it, but he didn’t. He touched my face gently, traced the path the tears had taken.
‘I promise he will never hurt you again,’ he murmured, his voice very low and deep. ‘I promise I will keep you safe. No one will ever hurt you again. I’ll always be there for you, I swear.’
I put my hand over his where it rested against my face.
‘So, kill him for me, Caradoc, please.’
He leapt back like I’d cast fire again. ‘I can’t kill a child!’ he cried.
‘Then you don’t care for me,’ I spat. ‘If you did you wouldn’t hesitate to slice monster right up the middle and give him plenty of time to regret what he did.’
‘But he hasn’t done it yet!’
‘He will. He will because he did. I know, better than anyone, that man is evil!’
‘He isn’t a man, he’s a boy! He can’t be more than thirteen at the most!’
‘Innocent looking boys can grow up to become evil men. I can tell you that there is something in his soul that is twisted and wrong! He takes pleasure in cruelty. He loved to hurt me, he loved to see me humiliated. I may be the most sheltered person in the world, but even I know kind of behaviour isn’t normal. He didn’t just wake up one day and say to himself, “you know what, I think raping a little girl would be fun today.” There is something evil in him!’
‘I don’t believe that a person can be born evil!’ Caradoc said. ‘Maybe it was what happened to him in his life. Maybe he never received care or love –’
‘I never received care or love and I’ve never done anything even close to what he did. You don’t know what it’s like, to be raised by a series of people who don’t give a shit, every year a new creepyguardian, every year a new home.’
‘You kidding? I’m a Camiri warrior, how do you think I grew up? I was taken from my mother when I was four years old and raised in barracks with five hundred other kids my age. Do you think the Masters ever cared about some kid whose sole purpose in life is to fight and die for the Empire? Three months ago, the Camiri weren’t even legally people!’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, looking at him as I never had before. ‘I had no idea.’
‘Why did you think I was so upset when you said I’d treated you like an animal? What did you think the revolution was about? Three hundred years ago my people were prisoners of war. Ever since then we’ve been bred to take the place of good Meistri who shouldn’t risk their precious lives in battle. We were tools, we weren’t people. The only reason we won our freedom was because we outnumber the Meistri.’
His lips twisted bitterly. ‘Our mothers are forced to breed, their children taken away as soon as they’re old enough not to be too much trouble for the Masters. I can’t believe you never bothered to find out something so important to me. Why else you think I would agree to marry Aoife except to save my people? Why did you think the Empress would allow a Camiri like me to marry her precious princess unless it was because she was staring the destruction of the Thousand Counties in the face?’
‘I’d forgotten all about Aoife,’ I said. It was the wrong thing to say. He took another step back and drew the vines aside like a curtain.
‘We should go back,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ I agreed and whispered, ‘we’ve gone too far,’ but I don’t think he heard me.
There was no escorting me back to the Library. This time we were simply heading in the same direction.
Chapter Eleven
Aoife was pacing around the room when we returned. ‘Where have you been?’ she demanded. ‘I sent that scruffy boy after you ages ago. The Librarians are ready to meet with us.’
Caradoc and I glanced at each other involuntarily, and our eyes slid quickly away again. ‘We were looking around the city,’ Caradoc said.
‘It’s the first time I’ve seen Cairnagorn,’ I said, which, from a purely objective, temporal perspective, was true.
‘How lovely for you,’ Aoife spat, sounding for a moment disconcertingly like me. ‘Hurry up, the Librarians are waiting.’
She rang the bell and a young man came to guide us through long hallways deeper into the centre of the mountain. The further we went into the tunnel, the more familiar it was to me. The outer parts of Cairnagorn had been razed, but the inner tunnels had been largely untouched in the attack. From the greedy way Aoife looked around, she had never been permitted so far into the Library bef
ore.
We passed through half a dozen ordinary doors that opened with keys in the usual fashion before we came to the grand doors. Aoife and Caradoc gazed at the doors, extending almost impossibly high with no key, no lock, no handle.
‘How does it open?’ Caradoc asked.
‘That, sir, is a secret of the Librarians,’ our guide said smugly. He chanted an incantation in unrecognisable language, weaving his hands in a complex pattern. Strands of light appeared between his hands, woven into an impossible knot. The knot left the guide’s hands and rose slowly until it was above his head. It burst, strands of light flinging themselves between his fingers towards the door.
The guide stood there, his hands open, palms facing the door as it slowly started to open. I met Caradoc’s awed expression with my most sarcastic look. I knew that the little display we’d just been treated to was nothing but pure showmanship. I could open these doors myself just by opening my palm. I wanted to mutter something derisive about showmen, but I was afraid I’d be shut out of the proceedings altogether, and if I was, the Empress would probably kill me.
We walked through the rows of books and scrolls to one of the larger meeting rooms that lay just this side of the chamber that housed the Portal. A dozen elderly men and women were seated at a high bench. Behind them were ranged tier upon tier of seated men and women. Every one of them wore a solemn expression and the insignia of the creepyguardians. My steps halted. It wasn’t until Aoife jabbed me in the back with a sharp fingernail that I kept walking.
I stood there, before the creepyguardians ranged behind the long wooden benches, all dressed alike, and all with that damned symbol on their shoulder that I had learned to dread all my life. It felt like it was a changeover ceremony. It was all I could do not to get down on my knees and ask the Master for the gracious gift of another guardian and another name.
The benches were arranged in an elongated semi circle and Caradoc, Aoife and I stood in middle, but that meant that some of the Librarians were behind us. That thought freaked me out beyond words.