She heard the guards whispering, but it soon faded into blackness as sleep claimed her.
Chapter 9
The night’s restless sleep left Becka feeling slow and groggy. Her guards had swapped out overnight, and although Shamus and Lorelai had come in to check on her when her breakfast had arrived, they’d politely stepped out when she’d asked.
Becka tried to sleep in, but there was too much on her mind fighting for attention for her to fall back asleep. The room echoed memories back to her. Before Becka had returned to House Rowan, this had been her sister Tesse’s room. But before that, it had been her room. Even before that, it had belonged to an aunt who’d long since married and moved to another territory. Becka wasn’t sure of the provenance of the space before that.
When she’d first inherited the room, Becka had updated the bedding, added a few pictures, and had picked out the forest green couch everyone liked to sit on. After it went to Tesse, her sister had added the divan and the roses lining the wall of windows and changed out a couple of the portraits on the walls.
Becca’s sole change this time was adding a painting of Tesse in her bedazzling engagement gown. She was a specter of ageless beauty and power and a constant reminder of the event that had brought Becka back to House Rowan: Tesse’s murder. Becka had hung the portrait on the wall across from the divan so she could look upon and remember her sister from the furniture Tesse herself had added to the room.
Her sisters, Ingrid and Sigfrid, thought the painting morbid and had encouraged Becka to overhaul the space to invite in fresh memories. Becka had flatly refused. She wanted to remember Tesse. Besides, she liked the amalgamation of styles that her space represented. And more than anything, she wanted her first and last thoughts of the day to remind her that, if she wasn’t careful, a Shadow-Dweller might kill her just like they’d killed Tesse.
Now, after her discussion with Maura the day before, Becka wondered how well she’d known Tesse after all? From Maura’s description, Tesse had been not just an illusionist prodigy but also a model daughter, following in her footsteps with gusto. But the Tesse she had spoken to during their secret conversations had loved hearing all about Becka’s wild experiences in the city, so much so that she’d often wondered if Tesse would have preferred being there with her. It was impossible to know her sister’s inner thoughts and it wasn’t like she could ask Tesse now. Based on the general adoration Rowan had toward Tesse, Becka had to conclude that her sister was indeed an exemplary fae.
She could imagine Tesse wouldn’t be pleased with Becka’s slow reintegration into House Rowan or her persistent refusal of Alain. Her sister might have found Becka’s insistence on holding onto her city clothes and pink hair amusing, but she would have had a strong opinion. Becka wanted to do right by Tesse’s memory, but how could she do that while remaining faithful to her unique identity?
Becka had resisted the notion of stepping into Tesse’s shoes despite being thrust into the role. Not only did it smack of imposter syndrome, but Becka hadn’t felt like she truly belonged. Perhaps she’d been thinking of it all wrong? Would Tesse have wanted Becka to step into her shoes?
Exhausted and moody, Becka didn’t want to seek out her schedule any earlier than required, so she lay down on the divan with the Shadow-Dweller book Quinn had brought her to test. Oriani, her sister’s gold-and-brown tabby with a golden sheen to his eyes, joined her, at first demanding scritches under his chin before he took up a position curled around her toes. Paging through the book, Becka took a sip from a bottle of hot sauce to forestall the headaches that kicked in whenever she encountered something magical.
Becka turned her focus back to the book. Wearing the gloves that had become her daily habit, Becka opened the book carefully. She was intent on not damaging the book despite Quinn’s apparent lack of concern. And wow, was this book layered in magic! The first time she’d touched it, something had been knocked loose by her Nulling ability and given her a heck of a headache.
Quinn had asked her to find something, anything, of consequence in these pages. Becka was determined to help, especially considering the trouble she’d gotten him into. Besides, like she could turn down a good mystery?
Each page was covered in the glyphs she’d become all too familiar with. There was no known translation for them; the enforcers had exhaustively searched to no avail. Yet Becka couldn’t help looking for some sense of a pattern between the pages.
A few rare pages were blank. A handful had only one or two glyphs. Most were covered with the arcane symbols. Becka couldn’t determine any rhyme or reason to it. There didn’t appear to be chapters or sections. Each page felt random. More like artistic styling than a language.
One thing she’d learned from research was to keep asking questions to find the answer beyond the answer. Focus on what you observed and look for patterns and meaning based on what you’d seen later.
Was she looking for the wrong thing?
Switching gears, Becka focused on the energetic signatures of the pages and how her gift reacted to each. Using this method, she discovered that not all pages felt the same energetically. Could separate enchantments effect different sections of the book? She knew the magics were there because they made her head throb when her gloved fingers slid over the pages. She took great care to not loose her powers upon the book. Instead, she selectively moved around those elements, jotting down in her notebook pages that seemed to be more magically complex, as well as those which appeared to have no additional magic imbued. Curiously, the level of magic infused into the pages appeared in no way related to the number of glyphs on a page.
What if the glyphs aren’t even important? What if only the magic matters?
She had yet to figure out what the magic did, but she felt like she was getting closer to… something. The magics used were sometimes familiar and sometimes unfamiliar to her. Some patterns felt like the illusion magic she trained against daily. Others reminded her of the more subtle movements of Vott’s air elementalist patterns. Still others were completely foreign to her. The combination reaffirmed her understanding of Shadow-Dwellers; they alone wielded a spectrum of stolen magics.
Becka felt like she was on the cusp of putting the puzzle together and the answer was floating around the back of her mind, just needing the right push for it to float to the surface of her consciousness.
Becka bit her lip, wishing she could talk with Quinn and tell him what she suspected. Perhaps he’d have ideas on things to test out.
She thought about venturing out of her room to find him, but would he even want to talk to her right now?
Just then there was a knock on her door, and Becka set the book aside and jumped up to get it, hoping Quinn was on the other side.
Swinging the door open, Becka came face-to-face with Maura Rowan and Hanna Hawthorne.
“From the disappointed look on your face, I am guessing you were hoping for someone else,” Maura replied. “May we come in?” she asked as she stepped in. Maura motioned for Hanna to follow her, which she did a bit reluctantly, appearing less willing to invade Becka’s personal space.
Becka closed the door behind them.
“You have such a lovely room, Becka,” Hanna said.
“Thank you, Lady Hanna,” Becka replied, grateful for Hanna’s upbeat presence.
“I see you haven’t gotten dressed for the day yet,” Maura said, taking Becka by the elbow and walking her in the direction of her changing room. “Hanna, why don’t you wait for us here while I help Becka finish getting ready?”
Once they entered Becka’s bathroom, Maura gently shoved her toward her changing room.
Still stinging from their conversation yesterday and moody from her thoughts of Tesse, Becka didn’t protest. She was determined to move forward with Maura, which right now meant placating her. “Are you planning to accompany me all day?” Becka asked.
“No, but I thought I’d check on you. What have you been up to this morning?” Maura asked.
Becka
looked around her closet, searching for the perfect outfit to match her mood.
“I had breakfast and was engaging in some light reading. I’m still feeling worn out and didn’t want to tax myself before the long day ahead.” Her red tracksuit and neon green sports bra were calling her name.
“That’s sensible,” Maura replied. “You’ll be thrilled to hear Lady Hanna has offered to act in the role of your political and romantic advisor.”
“That sounds…” Becka started to reply, pulling the sports bra over her head. She searched for the right words, wanting to be snippy, if only because Maura wasn’t giving her an option. But, to her own surprise, Becka liked the idea.
“Generous and gracious of Lady Hanna, don’t you agree?”
“Yes, it does,” Becka replied. “I could use her perky energy at my side.”
A brief smile graced Maura’s lips. “How… refreshing. Now, let me appeal to you, Becka, on a topic I know you care about,” she spoke in low tones. “I spoke with Chief Elowen last night. If I push the matter of Enforcer Quinn’s breach of behavior, then I can get him reprimanded. Fired, even.”
Becka’s heart skipped a beat. Quinn lived to be an enforcer and hunt the Shadow-Dwellers. “Wouldn’t a formal complaint embarrass House Rowan as well?”
Maura smiled, broadly this time. “I do appreciate how you are thinking of your house first. And yes, it would, but do not think I would not do it. Do not push me.”
Becka tugged her hair into a messy bun and emerged from her dressing room looking ready to run a marathon, which was exactly how she thought about the day ahead.
“Fine,” she said to Maura, walking around her back into her bedroom. “Lady Hanna, I hear we’ll be spending a lot of time together going forward. I must say, I am grateful for your company.”
Hanna’s brief frown at Becka’s attire lasted only a moment, and then she was all smiles again. “Yes, I am so excited to learn what your days look like. Your schedule looks so entertaining. Are you ready to go?”
Becka tucked the Shadow-Dweller book and her journal into her bag, which felt heavy slung over her shoulder. There was some clue she was missing. Something that didn’t quite fit together. Maybe the book’s simple presence, as a constant reminder, would help her subconscious surface whatever clues it was trying to puzzle out?
She remembered her schedule, steeling her nerves for the upcoming day. She luxuriated in a long, deep yoga breath. “I’m ready.”
“Do not forget your meeting with Elder Alaetha later today,” Maura said, her still-exhausted features otherwise placid and calm. “She is keenly interested in meeting you. And please, for the love of all things sacred, be polite to her.”
“Dearest Mother, there’s no other way I know how to be,” Becka replied as sweetly as she could muster.
Hanna looked back and forth between the two of them, brows knit in confusion. “Your words and your emotions are wildly disparate.”
Becka smiled at Hanna, feeling genuine mirth. “I think we’ll get along fabulously, Hanna Hawthorne. Shall we get going?”
“Remember, Becka,” Maura said. “Leave the investigation to the enforcers and keep your focus on your duty to House Rowan.”
Like she’d needed the reminder? She’d understood Maura’s threat to Quinn’s career loud and clear. “There’s nothing else on my mind, Mother.”
“That’s not at all true,” Hanna replied, progressively looking more confused.
“I know, isn’t it exciting?” Becka smiled, her mood brightening. She took Hanna’s hand in hers, dragging the bewildered woman along with her. “We’re going to have such fun today.”
Chapter 10
It felt like a veritable host of guards trailed Becka as she walked the halls with Hanna at her side. She hoped her first council meeting wouldn’t be as dreadfully boring as she feared, but perhaps with Hanna along for the ride she’d at least have someone on her side, even if that side was also Hawthorne’s and Maura’s side.
Becka’s desire to avoid arriving at the council meeting early meant they’d walked in circles, but Hanna hadn’t complained.
“Who are they again?” Hanna whispered, leaning towards Becka.
“Which set of guards do you mean?” Becka asked, her voice at deliberately normal levels.
Hanna frowned. “Start with the ones who aren’t fae.”
“Sure. They are wolf shifter guards who are pledged to Vott. After the attack on me a few months ago, he assigned some to me. Shamus, despite looking so attractive and inviting, is a brooder, while Lorelai is the friendlier one of the pair.”
“I would not have guessed it,” Hanna replied. “My gift does not work reliably on shifters, thus why I asked. She looks so grave.”
She wasn’t wrong. Shamus, sporting a fresh frown, always seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. His pate of wild curls and perpetual five o-clock shadow was worthy of a magazine ad. Becka had tried to get him to laugh, to no avail, so she mostly ignored him.
Lorelai laughed, the sound filling the hall. Becka looked back and the wolf was threatening Shamus with the end of her long braid. Sure, her angular features made her look perpetually stern, but her attitude was always upbeat.
“Nah, Lorelai is a blast.” Talking with Hanna, Becka realized she seemed different than other fae. Perhaps it was her focus on bringing joy to others, but she appeared to genuinely care about Becka, which came as a welcome surprise.
“What about the others?” Hanna asked, motioning to the guards.
Becka looked back. The fae guards were clad in their everyday uniforms, the standard tan form-fitting outfit with an Illusionists Guild sash running right shoulder to left hip.
Becka shrugged. “The fae guards? That’s Elena and Oba, part of the family house guard.” Her interactions had been relatively perfunctory with the house guards, who’d rejected her overtures of friendship. But why wouldn’t they? As the heir, they couldn’t relate to her without the customary deference lest they risk their jobs.
Hanna’s eyes widened. “Oh my! Are you in that much danger?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I am, but you don’t have anything to worry about.”
Most likely. Just don’t drink after me!
Ascending the stairs to the third floor of the manor where the council chambers were located, Becka watched a pair of Astrid’s students creating an elaborate waterfall illusion cascading down one side of the stairs and over the banister. The water danced as if a living thing, color-shifting through a rainbow as it hit obstacles, leaving nothing wet despite its appearance of being water.
Becka altered her course to the far side of the stairs, knowing an accidental footfall could break their illusions into dust. It wasn’t like she was stepping on eggshells to avoid conflict with her housemates, but neither was she oblivious to how other fae reacted with fear or caution to her approach. She tried not to take it personally, but she couldn’t deny the ache in her chest every time someone jumped out of her way or turned and walked away to avoid her. No one wanted to accidentally run into her, lest they suffer the consequences of lost time, effort, and intention.
The students, both male teens, eyed them with caution as they walked up the steps. She had seen them in the training hall but hadn’t yet learned their names.
“Don’t worry,” Becka said to them. “I won’t break it.”
The shorter of the two rolled his eyes at her. “I told you this was a bad location,” he said to his friend. “She loves walking these stairs.”
The other boy nodded back. “Let’s go.”
They turned and ran off down the stairs, leaving their illusion for her to appreciate. Becka made a point of staying out of its way. She was happy when she passed it without ill effect.
“So there is a fair amount of friction between others in your house over fear of your power?” Hanna said.
“It’s inevitable due to the nature of my gift,” she answered. “I may be valuable to the house, but people fear what they don’t kno
w. They don’t know me, and they don’t know how my gift works.”
Hanna placed a reassuring hand on Becka’s arm. “That must be terrible for you.”
“It does suck. I wish I could step into a future date where that’s all behind me, but all I can do for now is wade through the murky middle.”
Hanna patted her arm and they walked in silence the rest of the way up the stairs.
The council chambers were conveniently located across from the top of the stairs. To her knowledge the closed doors weren’t kept locked, yet only council members and visiting dignitaries were allowed within. The ornately carved pine doors recounted the long history of House Rowan. She’d spent hours in her youth staring at the scenes and learning the stories. Becka recalled wondering what secrets were held within the chamber, knowing in her youth that one day, as heir, she’d be privy to the inner workings. But that day never came, as she was never guilded. When she was cast out, the loss of her potential inclusion within these hallowed halls had been the least of her concerns.
But now, standing with her gloved hand on the handle, Becka paused. Lorelai and Shamus backed off and stood across the hall, at the ready for when she returned. As shifters, they could not follow her into the chambers. Guards were not allowed inside. Elena and Oba, her fae guards, stood at attention against the wall down the hall, to silently await her re-emergence.
She turned the handle and walked into the room. Becka was met with a series of nods from the short list of fae inside. It was clear everyone had gotten the memo that she’d be attending, likely even before Maura had delivered the message to Becka.
She ushered Hanna in beside her and closed the door behind them. It took Becka a moment to absorb the room. Duchess Maura stood near an ornately carved chair at the head of an oblong table, which ran lengthwise nearly the full length of the room. The table was ringed by plush and carved chairs from the same material as the table, a lightly stained rosewood with a stunning sap grain, varying in ripples from beige to dark rose. Portraits lined the stone-walled room, images of former influential members from the house over the generations. The wall across from the doors was filled with bookshelves and tomes covered in a fine layer of dust, and predictably the scent of musty library filled her nose. On the wall with the doors hung a map, fifteen by ten feet in size, of the world of fae territories, each boundary marked with a distinctive and separate color.
Poisoned Shadow: An Urban Fantasy Supernatural Detective Mystery (The Shadow Series Book 2) Page 9