A Curse of Blood and Power: A Chronicle of Fanhalen

by Viviene Noel

  Mahena barely acknowledged the new information. In fact, she had been uncharacteristically quiet for the entire ride from Sheya’s cottage, much to Emmerentia’s relief. She just wanted to forget the blind hatred Sheya had shoved in her face—wanted to forget the stinging pain twisting her heart.

  They dismounted in silence, leading the horses into the stables. From the corner of her eye, Emmerentia glimpsed Mahena hitting the ground on wobbling legs. The twin couldn’t help but almost snort mockingly. If Mahena noticed, she didn’t point it out, but a soft laugh broke out of her lips as she awkwardly walked the mare to the empty stable.

  Emmerentia buried her head against her mare’s neck and muffled a sob of rage. That was all she allowed herself before she hailed the stable boy, whose head popped up from the end of the stables. He came running and smiled as she shoved her leads into his palm, not bothering with a thank you of any sort. He said nothing—always so kind, so polite, this lad. He never asked anything.

  ‘I am going in,’ Emmerentia spoke vaguely in Mahena’s direction and made her way out of the stables. That woman was an absolute burden, she silently cursed as she made her way towards the Inn. If it weren’t for her sudden appearance dragging her onto this path, she never would have even imagined a glimpse of this day.

  Magic. Magic. Magic. She hadn’t been able to erase the word from her mind during the entire ride, hadn’t been able to grapple with the fact that she was linked to someone with the devil’s poison coursing through their veins, let alone believe their fates were intertwined.

  Despite the death wish Sheya had laid on her head, she didn’t doubt the Valorà’s revelation. Not after what she’d witnessed at that table, not after the changes she’d noticed in the past month—in Mahena, and within herself. It was hard to miss the growth of Mahena from a scared, strange girl into a part of everyday life, their life. Words, expressions, attitude. The way she moved, the training. Even her appearance, as though a glow settled a little deeper within her with each passing day. Emmerentia had watched it all and decided not to address it because it had amused her, and tugged at that damned curiosity of hers.

  And now, it was biting her right up the ass.

  Oh, bloody gods. Her blood boiled at the repulsive idea that she could not walk away from this, even though it was fear she saw lining Sheya’s eyes when she revealed what she suspected, what her little experiment had unveiled. Fear, at the power required to summon such a spell. What had she done to attract such a fate? And why not have her assassinated instead? Or captured? Who, exactly, was Mahena?

  Emmerentia had known her, yet would swear in front of all the gods she did not believe in that she had never seen the woman before. And she could definitely not believe this was going to be what dragged her, dragged them, out of complete isolation.

  Fàaran was already deep in conversation with a man she did not recognise when she flung the doors open, which suited her just fine. She had other plans for her evening in mind. As her eyes met those of the lovely, green-eyed bartender, Emmerentia felt a smile tug at her lips. Lorna paid her a mocking grin in return. They had met at the market over half a year ago, and Emmerentia visited from time to time, when she needed a break.

  She approached the counter, pulling a chair out, and Lorna slid a pint in front of her. ‘What do I owe the pleasure to?’

  The twin grabbed the pint as she sat down and chugged it. Lorna frowned, but wisely kept to herself and filled the pint again. After Emmerentia emptied it, and requested another one, she replied, ‘I just love your ale that much, as you can see.’

  Lorna sneered at Emmerentia’s cold, insulting tone. ‘And I have other pissy patrons to serve, who actually settle their bar tabs.’

  She had immediately liked Lorna—at least as much as she was still capable of liking—after she witnessed her squeezing and twisting a man’s groin when he had tried to grope her. He’d been twice her size, yet she had not balked. They had become fast...acquaintances.

  Emmerentia smirked. ‘We have other means of arrangement, don’t we?’

  Lorna simply yanked the mug back. ‘Not with that attitude, we don’t.’

  Emmerentia laughed lightly despite herself, despite the churning anger writhing in her veins. The barmaid would not take her crap and she needed the sort of release Lorna could offer her. Lorna never asked anything of her beyond those moments, and it was all Emmerentia would ever be willing to give again. She shrugged her shoulders, leashing the temper she so wanted to let out. Putting her hands up, she said, ‘Fine, fine. Don’t get on your high horse. May I have my ale back?’

  Lorna slid it back, rolling her eyes. ‘You’re as much of an asshole as any of the men here.’

  Emmerentia winked. ‘Which is exactly why you like me.’

  Lorna raised a brow. ‘I don’t know if I’d say like.’ She served another patron, then eyed Emmerentia up and down. ‘There are parts of you that I enjoy.’

  And that was their usual ritual. They would tease and toy with each other with semi-insults until Lorna finished her shift, and then ended up somewhere else, doing many other things. Emmerentia had successfully managed to keep her brother from finding out. Or at least without him pointing it out.

  Emmerentia knew Mahena was behind when Lorna’s eyes lit up. She at least had the common decency of excusing herself straight away to their bedrooms.

  Lorna kept her gaze on Mahena as she walked away. ‘What fine company you keep these days.’ That was a twinge of jealousy, barely perceptible.

  Despite having been riding the whole day, despite the turbulence of it, she could not deny the fact that Mahena was attractive. The twin could not help herself and, locking eyes with Lorna, she purred, ‘Finer than the eyes can see.’

  ‘Then perhaps you should—’

  But then there was a muffled thud that Emmerentia somehow felt. Her guts churned, that caring thread tugging at her once more. Care. She had promised herself that day she would never bother with it again.

  She snapped her head to the stairs.

  Mahena was lying on the floor and Emmerentia found herself kneeling next to her innate body before she realised she’d left her seat.

  B

  Mahena leaned against the stable door, gently stroking her horse’s head. ‘Maybe I should stay here with you,’ she whispered, ‘it’s not going to be a fun night in there.’

  The mare neighed and nuzzled her, as though she agreed.

  Mahena smiled, scratching its head. ‘You’re a good lass. Do you think they will let me keep you when they dump me in the forest?’ The mare swung her tail in response, going back to the hay on the floor. ‘Alright, alright, I'll leave you to your dinner.’

  The Inn was bigger than expected, with tables scattered about, almost all occupied. It was rather a simple place, except for the artwork displayed on the walls and in the corners. Mahena had never stepped foot in any sort of establishment since she had been here. The twins, or Emmerentia, never took her to a tavern, or a shop, or a workshop, or anything except the market.

  She angled her head as she paused midway, allowing for the laughs and shouts and typical bar noises to slowly reach her. It looked like a big chalet, a mix of beams and stones and branches, leaves and roots weaving the building together.

  ‘Welcome to the fairy trading post...’ she murmured.

  It was past dinner time, she realised, as most men were already beyond the first tankard, chatting and drinking and playing cards. There were a couple of women at the tables, aside the ones walking around with trays, either dodging grabbing hands or falling onto laps. Mahena spotted Fàaran at a table in the far corner, a patron that could use some water facing him. The twin was tapping his fingers on the table, a sign that usually meant irritability. She turned her head slightly around and saw Emmerentia at the bar, chatting to the barkeep, a pint of ale in hand.

  The bartender looked Mahena over as she
stopped on Emmerentia’s left. ‘Joining us for a drink?’ The girl’s voice was light and cheerful, inviting conversation.

  Emmerentia gestured between the two. ‘Lorna, this is Mahena.’

  So, they knew each other.

  Lorna inclined her head. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  Mahena returned the smile. Mmmh... Friends? The way Lorna glanced to Emmerentia suggested something more than mere acquaintances.

  The barmaid slid a mug across the table. Mahena chugged it without consideration. Exhaustion hit her in the face as she placed the empty mug back on the bar. Her legs felt like blobs of jelly from the ride, and all she wanted was to shower and collapse in a heap.

  What an adventurer that made her.

  Lorna interrupted her train of thought. ‘Are you hungry? I have some stew in the kitchen.’

  ‘I am going to go to bed, if you would give me the room key.’ By the look Emmerentia addressed back to the barkeep, she guessed they weren’t going anywhere else tonight. If the woman had a good, fun night, perhaps her mood would lighten. Mahena’s stomach grumbled, but she added. ‘Would you keep me some for the morning at all?’

  Emmerentia raised her eyebrows in silence, indubitably shocked at her refusal for food. ‘It’s the third door on the left.’

  Mahena nodded and grabbed the keys. She made for the stairs to her left, at the opposite corner to where Fàaran looked more and more inclined to slam his interlocutor’s face into the table. Exhaustion indeed settled in her bones as a wind of relief brushed her skin at the idea of a good night of sleep. This day felt like a whole week.

  But as she walked past the card players and started up the stairs, her eyes were drawn to a painting hanging on the wall. It depicted an impressive ship, afloat a turbulent ocean. A black flag was proudly floating on the higher mast, with figures at work on the deck.

  The little voice rattled.

  The world around her tilted as she stretched her fingers towards the canvas, their tips gently brushing the surface as it seemed to drag her in.

  She winced.

  Clouds obscured most of the sky, thunder growling in the distance. The sea slowly started to partake in the mood, each wave rising higher than the last.

  ‘You cannot leave now,’ said the woman facing Mahena, ‘the risk is too great. Stay until it quiets.’

  Mahena looked around at the men getting ready to welcome the storm and noticed their stares even at such a time. ‘I understand their apprehension. I am a pricey bargaining chip, and they have no reason to risk their lives protecting mine.’ She put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. ‘Morgane, you are working hard to be accepted amongst them, and you have provided me with more than you think. I can make it to the island, and I will be fine.’

  Morgane’s purple eyes darkened, and a strand of hair escaped her braid, flowing past her face in the wind. Orders were shouted across the bridge, making her ears move slightly in a bid to not miss out on any information.

  ‘I don’t like this.’

  Mahena snorted. ‘The storm?’

  The pirate laughed quietly. ‘I love those. I mean you going off on your own. They should understand how important it is to keep you safe.’

  ‘But they can’t be informed, it would raise troubles beyond what either of us can control.’

  Morgane raised a finger to demand patience. She disappeared below deck for a couple of minutes and came back with a chain hanging from her fist. She opened up her palm and put a necklace about Mahena’s neck. ‘No questions. Keep it on at all times. If I can’t shelter you on this ship, I can at least do this to protect you on land.’ She didn’t give Mahena time to protest, hugging her and helping her into one of the rowboats. ‘Now hurry. We can’t go ashore, but you can make it. May we meet again.’

  Mahena was ejected from the scene, then thrown into another tunnel of nothing. She found herself in a place that wasn’t a place.

  That place. And as the first time it had happened, there was nothing there with her.

  The woman of light appeared again as she pushed the dark away, glowing, radiating warmth.

  Find your memories. Trust yourself.

  15

  Light filled Mahena’s vision as the thrumming in her head doubled, taking the simple set of drums to the power of a full orchestra.

  Her ears buzzed, that endless ringing that came from nowhere.

  The distant call of her name loomed closer and closer, as if someone was trying to get her attention across a raging river.

  Slowly, the roaring in her head eased slightly.

  Emmerentia’s voice came through. ‘Come on, wake up!’

  It was blurry and painful, shadows and dots dancing before her fluttering eyes. Was someone hammering a nail to her head?

  Mahena pushed herself to a sitting position but failed. A second pair of hands finished the motion instantly, making sure her back rested against the wall.

  She blinked a few times and looked around her. They had moved her into a bedroom.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ It was Fàaran, his tone curt, leaning back against a vanity across the room.

  Mahena rubbed her temples. ‘I thought you were using my head as a hammer.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Do not tempt me.’

  Mahena sighed. ‘I am fine, except my head’s banging. What happened?’

  Emmerentia handed her a glass of water. ‘You collapsed.’ Mahena gulped down the liquid. She grabbed the bowl of food on the end table next to her before Emmerentia added, ‘You were looking at the painting on the stairs. I turned away and about two minutes later you dropped to the floor.’

  Mahena put a spoonful in her mouth, then another, and another, filling her grumbling stomach with urgency. She swallowed hard, the stew going down her throat the loudest noise.

  Then it came back to her.

  Trust yourself.

  Her guts trusted Emmerentia. There were reservations about Fàaran, a hunch she could not pinpoint, and could merely be based on him being so distant and withdrawn. But he would never go against his sister. She had to go with that.

  Mahena waited for the little voice to murmur, to tug, but when nothing happened, she deemed it safe enough.

  Eventually, she eyed the twins and spoke from her heart. ‘As it appears you might not be abandoning me in the middle of the woods to fend for myself after whatever that woman told you, I will lay my cards on the table.’

  Emmerentia glanced at her brother, as if to say this is going to be good.

  Mahena cleared her throat. ‘I don’t remember anything from this world. I have memories, but they are memories from a lifetime on Earth, on another Earth. Portals, magic, they do not exist there. You were surprised when you came to that conclusion, but not surprised at the existence of another dimension, which means it at least used to be possible, before magic disappeared.’

  She watched the twins for their reactions, their faces so damn unreadable. But there was something in Emmerentia’s eyes, as though she was fighting with herself over what to think of the situation.

  Mahena took a deep breath and spoke the words she had never even allowed herself to speak aloud before. ‘I’ve always felt different, never felt like I belonged in that life. It was like there was this unexplainable hole in my heart. I believed for a while that the hole would be filled once I figured out my purpose in life.’ She smiled sadly to herself, aware of how pathetic that sounded, then continued, ‘The book that you found is the journal I keep of all the strange dreams I’ve been having over the past years. They always felt too real, even for my over-active imagination. At first, I thought this...being here with you...was one of those unfathomably intense dreams.’

  Brushing her hair back, Mahena inclined her head to Emmerentia. ‘I always believed in parallel dimensions and worlds and universes, even though there was no evidence. So...maybe...maybe the
tonic you gave me that very first day did fish the truth out. Just a truth I don’t remember.’

  Home, home, home.

  She couldn’t deny this feeling any longer.

  A tense silence settled in the room.

  When the twins still didn’t say anything, Mahena kept talking. ‘Guys, I am not stupid. Em’, there’s clearly history between you and Sheya—but your past belongs to you and I respect that. You’re still with me, which means whatever she told you, you believe it’s the truth. But I am entitled to know what concerns me.’ She waited a few seconds. ‘I am no one to you, and you have done more than what any decent human being would for a complete stranger.’

  The thing inside of her steeled her guts, fuelling her with a strength that did not belong to her, stopping her from baulking. ‘I will survive should you decide that your help ends here. Just tell me everything I need to know.’

  Of course, she didn’t want them to dump her ass. Of course, she was terrified of being left alone. But she wasn’t about to tell them that.

  The twins eyed each other for seconds that felt like hours. Mahena could see the wheels spinning behind Fàaran’s eyes as they discussed the answer silently. They nodded and then, with a resigned sigh, Emmerentia said, ‘We are not leaving you anywhere.’

  Mahena breathed out, a weight lifting off her shoulders as those words left the twin’s mouth. She was not going to be left alone.

  Not alone. Strong.

  ‘Unless you take physical form, I am alone.’ She snapped at the voice.

  Emmerentia continued, ‘One condition. You have to do as we say, and you have to be fully honest with us.’

  A tug of resistance in her gut. ‘I am handing my life over to you, essentially. You have to be more specific on what you want me to be honest about.’

  Fàaran elaborated, ‘When we ask you a question, you answer it honestly.’

  ‘I agree to answer your questions as honestly as I can, given the circumstances—depending on the nature. You can’t expect to keep your deep, dark secrets and demand I reveal all mine.’