by Kate Martin
She left, locking the door and leaving Kai to express his frustration to no one but himself. She’d go back for him later, when she had time.
Had he been successful, she would have praised him, showered him with gifts and whatever else he wanted. But he had failed, and though that failure was annoying, it was not a grand setback. She knew how to bide her time. The child did not.
She would have what she sought. Kai would get it for her.
Maybe in the future, he would be more careful about it.
— CHAPTER THIRTEEN —
Wakefulness returned with a violent gasp, a sudden intake of air that expanded Bri’s chest almost beyond its limits. Then came the pain.
Every muscle hurt. The familiar sting of bruises seemed to be everywhere. His throat felt swollen, throbbing with each breath. But it was his back that kept him paralyzed with pain. It was total agony.
Breathing carefully, yet accomplishing little more than hurried, panicked breaths, Bri turned his face into the pillow beneath his head and let out a silent scream. The sheets bunched in his fists, but he couldn’t bring himself to lift his body. He lay there on his stomach, working through the pain.
The next scream was less silent than the first.
A hand settled on his bare shoulder, the touch light and cool. Bri flinched, preparing for the onslaught of the myst—then, when it didn’t come, he realized it hadn’t been there in the first place. No myst. Something’s wrong…
“Bri?” Alec’s voice. “Bri, are you awake?” That gentle touch stroked his shoulder soothingly, then his hair, as if coaxing an answer from him. “Bri, look at me.”
When he turned his head from the pillow he was staring at the wall—a pockmarked wooden wall he didn’t recognize, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn again. “Alec?”
“Yes. Here.” The bed shifted slightly and Alec appeared in his vision, leaning over him. Bri couldn’t see much of the man from that angle, but enough. “You had me worried. It’s been more than a day.”
“Wha—” Talking hurt. Everything hurt. “What happened?”
“You don’t remember? The myst? With Dorothea? Using the labrynth?”
He did remember. He had gone into the myst and come out of his own accord. The labrynth Dorothea had scribed had allowed him to choose when to walk in, and when to walk out. It was control he had never experienced before. Not something he could duplicate on his own—no, he knew it would take practice before he could manage that—but just the freedom of it felt staggeringly sublime.
Then he had seen the others. Beautiful creatures, all silver and flowing lines, like the myst itself. They peered at him, spared him a glance, but otherwise went about their own business. Bri had walked among them unfettered and unafraid.
Until one of them—or maybe something different altogether, for it was not one of those same graceful silver creatures—grabbed him.
In that same moment, he had stared into the face of the mirror again. The familiar boy had grinned with barely contained excitement, though nothing innocent resided within that emotion. With a triumphant scream, the reflection had also grabbed him.
Bri had struggled and fought against both of them. The tug-of-war between the two forces had pinned him in the myst, and although he looked to that power from the labrynth that had lent him such wonderful control, he could not break free.
The boy who shared his face had lunged at him, metaphysically slamming their essences together, and Bri remembered nothing more after that.
“I thought—” he paused to breathe through the pain in his throat, “—they had me.”
Alec shook his head. “No. No one has you. Dorothea broke you free.”
How? He hoped his expression would do the talking for him. Speaking was too hard.
From the defeated sigh Alec expelled, Bri assumed he had gotten his point. “She scribed a labrynth into your back. Said it had to be permanent to hold, to give you time to recover. I didn’t see any other option, and it worked, so…”
Bri closed his eyes as a wave of pain sparked its way up his back.
“If you can turn your head the other way, I have a tonic that should help with the pain.”
He groaned. Before he could think too much, he pushed up on the bed and flipped his head around to face the other direction.
It took a while for the black and white sparks to clear from his vision.
When he could see again, Alec held a small cup not far from his lips. The man looked tired, worried, and a bit gaunt.
Bri managed to swallow the tonic. From the first sip, a cool numbing sensation began to spread out over his body, beginning with his throat. By the time the cup was empty, Bri could almost think clearly.
Setting the cup aside, Alec slid off the edge of the bed to sit on the floor, leaning back against the mattress. Bri wanted to ask him more, but with a wall of numbness building up between him and the still excruciating pain, sleep took over.
The sound of a door opening woke him. Beside him, still propped up against the bed, Alec jerked awake as well. Bri blinked, both eyes still heavy with sleep. Carma strode towards the bed, her long silver hair loose and free to flutter against the midnight black dress she wore. The style was nothing Bri had seen before—stiff and constrictive; perhaps a fashion from a neighboring country?
“There you are,” she said, kneeling beside them both, folding her skirt neatly beneath her.
“When did you get here?” Alec asked, rubbing his face.
“Not long ago. Though long enough for Dorothea to explain to me everything that has happened.” She ran cool fingers lightly along Bri’s face, while her gaze took in everything. “He’s warm.”
“Dorothea burned him. He has every right to be running a fever.”
“I suppose so.” With a movement as fluid as water, she lifted the sheet that draped across his back. “I do wish she hadn’t resorted to such drastic measures.”
“She said there was no other choice,” Alec said.
“And she is most likely telling the truth, but still.” She replaced the sheet, and Bri found himself on the receiving end of her rapt attention. “How are you feeling?”
“Numb now. Tired,” Bri said. Or tried to say. Although he had thought the words, and done his best to form them, he realized he had made no sound.
Alec had turned to watch him as well. “I gave him something for the pain. I don’t think you’ll be able to get an answer out of him for some time.”
“I see.” Carma sounded disappointed.
Shifting again, Alec brushed Bri’s hair from his forehead. “Go back to sleep. Carma and I will take care of things. You rest.”
He wanted to stay awake to hear what they were discussing, but almost immediately he felt sleep creeping toward him, as though Alec’s order had been an invitation.
“If you’re here,” Alec said to Carma, as he continued to brush back Bri’s hair, which soothed and lulled him, “then you must have finished your little endeavor.”
“Yes. I found us a new home. Well, an old home. I think it should do quite nicely.”
“Where?”
“In Chanae. It seems Talconay and Vaah want war with one another. I thought it best to leave the east coast.”
“That’s a long journey.”
“He can make it. But we should leave soon.”
“Give him time.”
“Honestly, Alec, what kind of monster do you think I am? I don’t want to kill him. But as soon as he can be moved, we need to leave. Vaah will not be safe much longer, and it will be difficult to cross the border once the fighting breaks out.”
The rest of their conversation became lost in the wash of sleep.
The carriage jerked with an errant bump in the road, and Alec reached out quickly to make sure Bri did not fall from the bench seat where he lay beside him. The ride resumed a smooth cadence. Potholes had become fewer and farther between since they had entered the region around Callay, the capital city of Chanae. Here, the roads were
well cared for and some were new. A glance out the carriage window showed nothing now but lush green fields, dotted with vibrant wildflowers. Not a turn earlier, the view had been much different. Magnificent stone buildings beside those of brick. Towering temples and ornate carvings atop the thick wall that surrounded the city, keeping it both safe and contained. At the center stood an impressive marble column constructed in the memory of the founding ruler of Chanae.
It had been far too long since Alec had last been inside those walls. He imagined much had changed in a century.
Settling into the rhythm of the coach, Alec rested his head against the plush back cushion and found his hand going to his pocket, pulling out the silver locket he hadn’t been able to discard.
He still hadn’t opened it. That much he had managed to resist. The water lily taunted him, begged to show him what it hid, but each time he found his thumbnail primed to flick open the latch, Alec shoved the trinket back into his pocket.
“What is that?”
Bri’s voice startled him. The locket clicked open, then snapped shut as Alec gathered his wits and clenched his hand. He lifted his other arm so Bri could sit up, an action the boy was still careful when attempting. “You’re awake,” Alec said, both out of surprise and a hope to change the subject.
Bri closed his eyes and breathed a sigh as he sat straight. His back was still stiff with so much healing flesh and new scar tissue. “I think we hit a bump.”
“We did.”
“Was I asleep a long time?” He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further.
“Long enough. You missed the city, but I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances to see it. You needed the rest more.”
“I suppose so.” A deep breath brought him to full wakefulness. He turned those silver-brown eyes on Alec, and Alec knew he hadn’t escaped the questioning from before. “Is that a locket?”
“Yes.”
“Yours?”
“No.” He ran his thumb over the lily and lifted the locket so Bri could see it better. “Her name was Ariadne.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Bri said.
Alec sighed. He knew Bri wouldn’t push, but he dropped the locket into his small hands anyway. “It’s all right. You can look.”
Glancing up at him as though to check his sincerity, Bri slipped a nail into the latch and spread the two pieces apart along their hinge. The sound was so very familiar. Just as he had remembered it.
Alec looked away, still not ready.
Bri was quiet a moment. “She’s beautiful.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s you with her, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” A knot he hadn’t quite expected wound its way around his heart.
“And the boy?”
“My brother. Marc.”
“Did you sell your soul for them?”
“Yes,” the word came out a whisper before Alec could stop it. “What made you suspect that?”
Bri shifted in his seat. “The way you don’t talk about them. Like you lost them, rather than watched them live their lives and move on.”
“You’re right. I sold my soul to save them.” He could remember the ritual site clear as day even now—so much like the site he’d taken Bri from. “But I was too late to save Marc.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Two thousand years before you were born, kid. Nothing to be sorry for. But I appreciate the sentiment.”
Silence again. A quiet understanding. Then Alec heard the locket click shut, and felt it press against his waiting hands.
“I had a picture of my mother,” Bri said, “but it’s gone now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. I had her shawl as well, and a tapestry she loved, but they were left behind with the caravan. I’m worried I’ll forget her.”
Alec slid the locket into his pocket and gave Bri’s hair a gentle ruffle. “You won’t. I promise.” The carriage took a turn, and Alec glanced out the window. He was glad he had followed his gut and asked Carma to check the old caravan for any of Bri’s belongings. There were a few surprises for Bri waiting at the new manor. “We must be almost there. How are you feeling? You were asleep when we were closest to the city. I kept a hand on you so you didn’t seem to notice.”
Throughout the trip Bri had battled with the new rift that existed between him and the myst. Most of the time it stayed away, hovering just at the edges of Bri’s senses. But when they came close to any major cities, the myst had become overpowering, slipping in and showing Bri any number of things—the future of an individual who lived there, or the general future of the city as a whole. Dorothea’s labrynth let him back away from the myst almost at will, but the separation and the initial touch was choppier than it had ever been.
Bri shook his head. “I feel all right. The myst is still infrequent now. It’s odd, like it remembers me. Before, I was afraid to touch it, but now, it’s afraid of me.”
“You’ll have time to learn now. It will get better.”
“I hope so. It used to be the myst that frightened me, but now…I think now I’m more afraid of who might be waiting there.”
Another turn, and the sound of the horses’ hooves changed from a soft drum against dirt to a steady clack against cobblestones. “We’ll figure all that out. Don’t worry. You’re safe. As long as you’re with me, and Carma, and even Dorothea, you’re safe. As for right now, I think you should have a look out this window here.”
Alec lifted the curtain clear of the window on his side of the carriage. Bri edged closer, leaning across Alec to peer outside.
Even knowing Carma as well as he did, and having lived there in the past, Alec couldn’t help mimic Bri’s expression of genuine surprise and amazement. It had been a while, and there had been renovations.
The manor rose up three stories, with a smaller turret-like structure that rose at least one more story above the main house. The stonework was remarkable, and the wood around each door and window had been carved expertly. Gardens lined the front entry and all along the manor. Small trees grew in perfect lines, shaped and pruned to perfection. As the carriage came to a stop at the grand ornate front door, Alec saw Brannick and Mary smiling in wait.
Brannick, of course, went to the second carriage first, opening the door for Carma and Picadilly, who stepped out into the sun, dressed in the very latest of fashion. Long, flowing dresses, with low necklines and soft curves. Dorothea followed, squinting at the brightness of the day. Her attire hadn’t changed, and she was still grumbling about leaving the ruins behind, but Carma had promised her the makings of a better workshop here.
Mary stepped up and opened the door for Alec and Bri. “Welcome home.”
Alec bypassed the footstep altogether, craning his neck to get a better view of the enormous manor. “Mary, this place…”
“I know,” she said, beaming. “It is quite the construction, isn’t it?”
“How many people does she expect to live here?”
“You know Carma. Everything must be done in the finest manner possible. Truth be told, she gave me the plans for this renovation years before she disappeared, and I followed through only about one-hundred years ago when I got bored. You remember when I took that time away?”
He did. Dizzy from staring upwards for so long, Alec gave up and turned to help Bri—who stood frozen in the carriage doorway with his jaw hanging.
Alec shook his head. “I know. It’s a bit much, but you’ll no doubt be more comfortable than you have been.” When Bri did not react or respond, Alec lifted him from under both arms and set him on the walk. A light breeze fluttered the oversized clothes the boy wore—one of Alec’s shirts that draped past his knees, and a pair of trousers they had acquired in the first town they’d passed that were big enough to be loose, but not fall off. Alec was struck by just how small Bri looked in the shadow of this large house.
Despite being removed from the carriage and tapped on the head, Bri d
id not change his expression, nor did he move.
Alec chuckled and looked up in time to see Carma and Picadilly making their way toward them. “Well, I think it’s safe to say you’ve surprised him.”
Carma lifted her chin so she could see him from under the brim of her large burgundy hat. “You are implying this is a reaction to the manor?” She turned to give the place a once over. “I agree. It is smaller than I would have liked.”
“Smaller?” Bri squeaked.
Picadilly, peering out from under her own large hat, looked deadly in the black dress she had chosen, with its cinched bodice and generous neckline. “I think everyone finds it far too large, Carma. But, I expected no less of you. I’m going to go ahead and make myself at home.” Skirt swirling about her legs, she waltzed in through the imposing front door.
Carma sighed, unamused. “None of you have any vision. It’s a wonder I selected any of you at all.” Waving it off, she faced them once again. “Well, Bri, when we made our deal, I promised to take care of you. I think this should start us off nicely.”
Silence again. They both watched Bri, waiting, but he continued to stare at the gigantic house.
Alec tapped him on the head. “Would you like to go inside?”
No answer.
“You can’t stand out here gaping all day.”
Still nothing.
He looked at Carma. “He is sufficiently grateful for your generosity.”
She released a small puff of air that might have resembled a laugh. “As well he should be.”
Mary stepped forward as Brannick began bringing in their sparse luggage. “I have a small lunch prepared, if anyone is hungry.”
“Excellent.” Carma headed for the door, waving at Dorothea to do the same. The old witch began to inspect the gardens instead. “Get him inside, Alec.”
“Bri, we need to go in.” Nothing. “You don’t like it when I have to carry you.”
“That’s true.”
“So what will it be? There’s something upstairs I think you’d like to see.”
Bri suddenly sprinted up the steps and into the foyer, where he stopped short and stared up into the vaulted ceiling. Wonder still sparkled in those eyes, but Alec detected a hint of memories as well. Most likely of small wooden wagons, old tents, and ragged belongings.