by Grace Martin
I usually managed to keep him out of my mind. As a mother, I’m probably supposed to think of my baby roughly once a minute, but I don’t. Often days and weeks and sometimes months go past when he doesn’t even cross my mind. When I think of him, my heart breaks all over again and I wonder if I can bear it. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. What Maldwyn did to me was beyond evil.
And here was Maldwyn, a defenceless boy. I couldn’t allow the things he’d done to me to go unpunished. I would kill him if I could get away with it. Otherwise, I was going to make him regret the day he was born. All I had to do was decide how.
Chapter Fifteen
Gwen came in to wake me up when the sun had risen. Again, she patted my shoulder. I woke up, confused and frightened and not in control of myself. I’d spent too long thinking about all the times Maldwyn had startled me out of a sound sleep and dragged me into a nightmare. I flung out my hand but this time I got a handful of her hair. I yanked her down to my level and shouted into her face.
‘No!’ I shouted. ‘No! No! No!’
She screamed and tried to jerk away, but I had a good handful of hair and I had a good grip. Her hands came up to try and keep her hair attached to her head.
I let go, shocked at what I’d done. I was breathing as hard as she was and her chest was sawing up and down so hard it was like she’d just come up from a week under water. Her hand went to her head where I’d hurt her and tears welled into her eyes. I felt awful. I hadn’t known what I was doing, I’d just reacted. I felt so terrible that I over-compensated and shouted at her again.
‘Never do that again! Never touch me while I’m sleeping! Never touch me again unless I give permission!’ Tears were threatening behind my own eyes, but I’d sooner die than allow them to flow.
Gwen had been holding a dress in the hand that wasn’t pressed against her head. She flung it onto the bed and ran away.
I sat up and cried a little more, but crying gets you nowhere when no one cares. I got up. I washed in the cold water left over from yesterday. I got dressed and did my hair. Eventually Gwen returned.
She knocked at the door and waited until I called for her to come in. ‘I’m so sorry, your Highness,’ she whispered.
‘I’m sorry too, Gwen,’ I said. I wasn’t designed for this kind of scene. I meant it, but it came out sounding matter of fact and a little mean. I sighed. ‘Look, I haven’t always been the Bach Chwaer. My life hasn’t always been comfortable or safe. When you touch me when I’m sleeping, it frightens me and I react without thinking. I’m sorry I hurt you, but I need you to promise me that you won’t touch me while I’m sleeping again.’
‘I promise, your Highness.’
She fixed my hair again. I’d never had much use for learning fancy hair styles, so I’d just put it into a braid. Gwen did something with a sewing needle and a ribbon that left me with a mass of lovely curls falling around my face. We didn’t talk while she did my hair and I was so angry at myself that I nearly shouted at her again.
After I was deemed ready for the day, Gwen led me downstairs to the throne room. I had to put up with a fanfare and a big announcement when I entered the room, but I was important people now.
Most of the people who had been there last night were gone. Also gone were the excesses of mourning, and most of the courtiers’ clothes were clean and intact. Here and there, a face was still streaked with soot, but there was no wailing in the corners of the room.
A few of them greeted me. I supposed that was kind, seeing as I’d never been introduced to any of them. They wished me well. They thanked me for what I’d done last night. They expressed their thankfulness that I was alive. I tried to be polite, but I didn’t know any of them and it was all I could do to get through the small group of people near the door.
Aine was sitting on her small throne, but neither Aoife nor the Empress had arrived yet. Aine saw me and stood up to greet me. It felt weird going up the steps to the dais, but Aine had her hands open to me and was saying something encouraging, so I didn’t have much choice.
‘Sister,’ she said in greeting as she took my hands into hers and leaned forward to kiss my cheek. ‘Are you recovered from your ordeal last night?’ Her eyes searched my face; she meant it.
‘I slept a bit,’ I admitted. ‘You?’
‘Enough,’ she said with a small shrug, which I took to mean “Not at all.” ‘Come, sister, sit.’ She indicated Aoife’s throne.
I wasn’t going to sit there, even if it was the only chair I had to die in. ‘Uh, no, Aoife will kill me if I sit in her chair. I’m not that dumb.’
‘No, Emer, it’s your chair. You are the Bach Chwaer now. You are Mother’s heir. You have the right to sit here. It’s your place. Another chair, well, another place has been found for Aoife.’ She indicated a small footstool slightly to the side in front of the Empress’s throne that hadn’t been there yesterday.
I stared at it. ‘Aoife’s supposed to sit on a footstool? Aine, she’s going to start killing people when she finds out.’
‘Learning some humility will be good for her.’
‘I’m not going to be the one to teach her the lesson,’ I whimpered. I sat myself on the footstool. Let the Empress tell Aoife to move. I wasn’t going to be the one to do it.
I’d been thinking about how she had stolen power from all those children last night. As horrific as it was, it meant that her power was greatly enhanced, while mine was still depleted from the effort of spending it all on the dragon. She could flatten me like a bug if she wanted.
I thought about what Rhiannon had said, in the small hours of the morning, about Umbra. If she was right and Umbra would respond enthusiastically to me then, from what people had said about the wand, Aoife would be no match for me. That, in itself, was a great enticement to find the wand.
‘Suit yourself,’ Aine said, sitting down on her throne again. ‘Mother will be mad. You haven’t seen her when she’s mad.’
‘She can’t be worse than my sister when she was mad,’ I said, smiling wryly. ‘Elisabeth was as quiet as a mouse but when she got mad she sort of took it to extremes.’
Aine stared at me. ‘You have a sister?’ she asked.
Oops. I’d forgotten I was supposed to be a long-lost triplet. I remembered what Rhiannon had told me early this morning.
‘Apparently, she ‒ or I, I suppose ‒ was adopted. I thought she was my sister up until very recently.’ How quickly we fall. I’d spent my life loving my Sparrow, depending on her and having her depend on me. I would have walked through fire for her and still would. But within hours of being told she wasn’t my twin, I was nearly ready to deny I’d ever met her.
I’d walk through fire for her, but only hypothetically, of course. Maybe I was worse than Aoife.
There was another fanfare and both Aine and I stood up to greet the Empress. She wore a black gown today. She looked so pale it was as though her skin was translucent. She swept up to the stage and took her throne. She motioned for the two of us to sit. Aine sat on her small throne. I sat on the footstool, even though Aoife was not there.
The Empress looked at me like I’d taken it into my head to perch upside down near the ceiling like a bat.
‘Emer, that isn’t your seat,’ she said and her voice was broken like she’d been crying all night. ‘Sit here, my Bach Chwaer. Sit beside me, as is your right.’
‘That’s Aoife’s place,’ I whispered.
The Empress’s lower lip quivered. ‘Not anymore, my Bach Chwaer, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness and your humility. Please rise and sit beside me. I need you beside me this morning.’
It wasn’t humility, I thought, as I sat in Aoife’s throne. It was self-preservation.
The Empress raised her voice. ‘My beloved people, our land is at a perilous crossroads. We face destruction. The dragon who was once Master Darragh has shown that we are no match for his power. He has sworn that he will return with his six sons to raze our civilisation to the ground. Last night, he offer
ed to make a bargain with us. He demanded that I sacrifice a virgin princess to him. Last night, a midwife came to each of my three princesses. Bring in the midwife.’
Rhiannon entered, flanked by two guards. Her face was a study in pattern and contrast. Beneath the dark ink and the ruddy marks from brands on her cheeks, her skin was paper white.
‘Midwife,’ the Empress said, ‘you have a terrible task here this morning. I ask you to tell me: which of my three girls will be placed before the teeth of the dragon.’
Rhiannon stood there for a moment. She actually swayed, like she was being blown about in a high wind on the edge of a cliff. But when she spoke it was in a clear, firm voice that could be heard by everyone.
‘Your Majesty,’ she said, ‘I regret to inform you that I have indeed made a finding regarding your daughters. Only one fulfilled the criteria. Her name… is Aoife.’
There were gasps and startled cries, but no one started grieving like they had been grieving last night. A few cast speculative looks at Aine and me. To avoid them, I looked over at the Empress. Her face looked like it was set in stone. She wasn’t surprised. Where was Aoife now?
The Empress said, ‘The Thousand Counties thanks you, Midwife, for your service.’
Rhiannon bowed and left the room. The Empress went on. ‘We will comply with Darragh’s request. We will do anything to ensure peace. Girls, come with me, please.’ She stood up and swept from the room. Aine and I had to trot to keep up with her.
She led us to the Council Chamber.
‘Where is Aoife now?’ I asked, the moment the doors were closed.
I wasn’t ready to see the Empress break down. She put a hand on the back of a chair and she sagged so low I thought for a moment she was going to fall to the floor. Her head was bowed and she started to cry, her shoulders racking with sobs, her other hand pressed to her face. Aine went to her and put her arms around her. The Empress clung to her. After a moment, Aine started to cry too.
I felt like I was intruding. This was a very private family moment. I took a step back towards the door, but the Empress heard or sensed the movement.
‘Emer, no!’ she cried. ‘Please, don’t go!’ She let go of Aine and came to put her arms around me, holding me tightly and crying. ‘I’m so glad I still have you. I can bear anything, so long as I still have you.’ She put out her arms for Aine to join us and the three of us stood together, but I wished I was somewhere, anywhere else, while the two of them rained on each other.
When they both stopped crying, the Empress led us to the chairs and we sat together. ‘Aoife is under guard. She has already tried several times to escape and she has demonstrated great magical power, greater than she has ever shown before, so there is a contingent of Librarians guarding her. One of them said he was known to you, Emer, but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten his name.’
‘Kiaran?’
‘Yes. Attractive young man. I’ve seen him around Cairnagorn, I think. Or when the Librarians come to Rheged to pay their respects. There seem to be so many Librarians, it’s hard to keep up. I avoid them whenever I can. You’ll understand that, Emer.’ She passed a hand over her face to wipe away the last remains of the tears. ‘Darragh has warned us that he will return. There is only one option for us to have any hope of success.’
‘To find Umbra?’ I asked.
The Empress nodded and squeezed my hand. ‘Do you remember anything, Emer? Anything that might tell us where she is? When the wand was given to you, what do you remember? Who gave it to you?’
‘Gave it to me?’ I asked. Even as I spoke, things fell into place for me. Rhiannon had been right. Umbra was my sister. Whether or not she was my twin remained to be seen, but she was definitely my sister. I knew that because we had already met.
Chapter Sixteen
‘I’m not sure who it was who gave her to me,’ I said slowly. ‘I was fourteen. I’d… I’d had a very bad year the year before and I was feeling very vulnerable.’
There was no way that I was going to tell Aine or the Empress that it was the year after Maldwyn had made me his plaything. For the first time in my life, I’d learned what it was like to want to murder someone. Even here, in one of the plainest rooms of the castle, it was still more grand and comfortable than anything I’d ever known in my whole life. Neither of them could possibly understand what it was like to be hurt so badly that the only answer is a drive for justice.
‘Magic was illegal then ‒ it was a different place from here. Anyone who had magic was burned at the stake. There were no Librarians in my country, no magi. Anyone who had magic learned to hide it. Any items that were magic were destroyed or disguised. All books of magic were long gone, except for those that were hidden or in the ruins of… of a city long dead.’
Fourteen years old and very raw. We had a new creepyguardian that year, of course. It was a man that time, too. He was probably kind, but I was broken. I wouldn’t talk to him. Every time he came anywhere near me, I was terrified. I had been raped more times than I could count and worse than that, I’d had a baby who was taken away from me. I knew that I couldn’t trust Maldwyn to look after my son. That was the thing that destroyed me ‒ that I couldn’t even guarantee the safety of my own child.
I was in the market with my Sparrow. The creepyguardian that year allowed us into the market by ourselves. He believed that we were mature enough to know that if we showed our magic in public then we would be executed. We knew that. Of course we knew it. It was drummed into us nearly every day of our lives. Believe me, if you’ve ever seen someone burned to death, smelled someone being burned to death, heard the screams of someone being burned to death, then that kind of stays with you. It’s better than a slap on the hand and saying, ‘No. Naughty.’
We even had a little pin money. We were looking through the stalls in the market in earnest because it was the first time in our lives we were ever able to buy anything. Sparrow found a pretty ribbon ‒ we didn’t have much money, after all ‒but I was distracted. I was sure I kept hearing the name I’d had last year, whispered and distant but still, it had still been my name.
Last year my name had been Emer, this year it was Meriel. Sparrow was Lili this year. The year we were with Maldwyn she was called Lynnevet.
I kept hearing it, ‘Emer! Emer!’ but when I looked around, I couldn’t see any familiar faces or anyone who looked like they were calling me.
‘Sparrow, do you hear that?’ I asked.
‘Hear what, Hawk?’
I lowered my voice and put my mouth right next to her ear so no one else could hear. ‘Someone keeps calling out for Emer.’
She jerked backwards. ‘Maldwyn!’ she cried. She dropped her ribbon.
‘No, no,’ I put my hands on her arms to stop her from running away. ‘Sparrow, no, pick up your ribbon or people will look. It’s not his voice. I don’t know who it is. It isn’t even a man’s voice. I think it’s a girl.’
‘Do you think someone recognised us from last year?’
‘How could they? We were in Cairnagorn all year.’
‘Then who knows what your name was?’
‘No one,’ I said. ‘I’ve told you. I don’t know who it is. Listen, can you hear it?’
As if she could hear anything above the hubbub of the market. A hawker bumped into us and I gave him a mouthful. He turned and looked at us. He looked like he was about a million years old. He was tall and gaunt, with thick, matted white hair spilling over his shoulders to mingle with thick, matted white beard spilling over his chest.
‘Would the young lady like to buy something pretty to make her day better?’ he asked. He held out a hand and both Lili and I gasped. He had a handful of wands. I looked at him closely. There was no mark that I knew of, to tell if someone was a mage or not, but I was suspicious.
‘What are they?’ I asked, like I didn’t know.
‘Hair ornaments,’ he answered. I lifted my brows because that was the flimsiest excuse I’d ever heard.
Still there was that
little voice, whispering, ‘Emer! Emer!’ but it was closer than it had been.
‘Hair ornaments?’ I asked. ‘What are you supposed to do with them?’
He bowed. ‘If I may make so bold, young ladies, may I demonstrate on your hair?’
‘You do it, Lili,’ I said. Sparrow did what she was told. She always did what she was told.
He spun a finger in a circle to indicate that she should turn around. Her hair was still loose around her shoulders. ‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘I’m just an old man, I’ve only seen the ladies doing their hair like this. As you can probably tell just by looking at me, I don’t do fancy things with my hair.’
He did fudge it, but he managed not to stick the thing through the back of Sparrow’s skull, which was probably a close-run thing, judging by his awkward movements. He twisted her hair into a roll and stuck one of the little sticks through the roll. I was surprised. I used a standard sixteen-hairpin bun. If I could hold my hair up with just a single stick, this fellow might just have a sale.
Sparrow turned her head this way and that. I heard her say, ‘Let me do it.’ She pulled the stick out and twisted her hair into a tighter bun. She drove the stick in so hard I was a bit concerned it would go into her brain, but she didn’t gabble afterwards so I figured she must be all right. She shook her head around, but the bun didn’t move.
‘How much?’ I asked.
‘For you?’ he asked. I took a step back. For a moment the look in his eyes was warm and sweet and tender. The look disappeared and he looked vague again. ‘How much does the young lady think it’s worth?’
‘It’s only a stick,’ I said. It might be my first time shopping with my own money, but I knew that I was expected to bargain. Anyway, I didn’t have much money, and if I was going to be able to buy a silver stick with a pretty rock on the end of it, I was going to have to do some pretty fast talking. ‘I wouldn’t expect to pay too much for a stick.’
He looked at the cluster of wands in his hand and for a moment didn’t quite manage to suppress a smile. ‘You may be right,’ he said. ‘A hair stick. How much would be a fair price for a hair stick?’ He looked over at Sparrow. ‘How much was your ribbon, young lady?’