Daughter of No One

by Sam Ledel

  “Could she have escaped into the Wood?”

  “Not likely.” Roisin bit her lip, folding the handkerchief between her hands. “The princess is very capable, but I’m afraid she and her brother were never allowed to venture very far from castle grounds. She wouldn’t know her way out there in the Wood.”

  Coran gave Jastyn a look. “Well, thank you anyway, Roisin. If you hear anything—”

  “There is something,” Roisin said between sniffles. “It’s not about the princess’s whereabouts. But I overheard the king and queen last night.” Jastyn and Coran moved closer, despite being the only ones in the stables. “There’s going to be an announcement first thing tomorrow. They’re going to call a kingdom-wide search for Aurelia, for anybody who can help. And they’re offering a reward.”

  Jastyn bit the inside of her cheek. “A reward?” she echoed. Coran shot her a look, and Jastyn tried not to fidget. The kingdom was notoriously stingy with their riches. Of course, a member of the royal family had never gone missing before. Trying to contain her excitement, Jastyn asked, “What kind of a reward?”

  Roisin replied, “Queen Dechtire and King Grannus will give five thousand rubies to whoever can find the princess and bring her home.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Roisin was right.

  The next day, Queen Dechtire and King Grannus announced a reward for their daughter’s return. The entire kingdom and even a few groups of forest-dwelling fae gathered to witness the proclamation which took place in the middle of the market upon its first open day since the invasion.

  Jastyn found herself entrenched in the latest event in the Kingdom of Venostes as she escorted Alanna—still faring well thanks to the banshee blood—to the announcement under the watchful eye of Elisedd. Together, they pushed through the onlookers, eventually finding a spot near the back of the crowd where the three of them watched the king clear his throat and unfurl a parchment scroll.

  “Hear me. On this day, I announce a reward to anyone who can return Princess Aurelia Diarmaid—now heir to the Diarmaid throne—to the Kingdom of Venostes and back to her family. Aurelia is believed to be somewhere in the Wood. However, the Wood runs deep. Therefore, we request those who know these lands to lend your knowledge to aid in the rescue and recovery of our fair daughter.”

  The crowd nodded, and the air filled with eager whispers. Alanna nudged Jastyn, who didn’t have to catch her sister’s gaze to know what she was thinking. And while the king continued to speak, Jastyn knew her mind was already made up, and Alanna’s inevitable encouraging speech would fall on stoic ears. Jastyn had decided hours ago, as soon as Roisin told her of the reward, that she would not miss this opportunity.

  Thus, later that day, Jastyn was prepared when her mother pulled her aside at the wash basin after their midday meal and handed her Elisedd’s dirty bowl to clean.

  “I have a feeling you’ve made up your mind.”

  Running the bowl under water, Jastyn stared at her hands, then handed her mother the bowl to dry with a worn rag. “My opinions of the royal family have not changed. You should know that. Anyone who believes banishment to the lowest rung of the kingdom as sufficient consequence for what you did is completely backward. I have no respect for the Diarmaids in that regard.”

  Her mother took a cup from Jastyn, her hand lingering on her daughter’s. Jastyn lowered her voice after a glance over her shoulder. “But the princess is kidnapped. The prince is gone. The kingdom cannot go on the way it should unless Aurelia is returned.”

  Jastyn ignored the pause in her mother’s drying at her use of the princess’s first name. “Not long ago, I would have imagined your delight at the crumbling of the royal family.”

  “I guess I’ve learned to channel my anger into other things,” Jastyn said, hoping her mother didn’t see the flush on the back of her neck at the thought of the princess. “Besides, the reward would help us greatly. Making sure Aurelia is safe and brought back unharmed would simply be an additional token of good fortune.” She fumbled on her words and tried not to imagine the hopeful gaze of Aurelia’s eyes in the reflection of the water. She scrubbed off a piece of stew stuck to a spoon, then wiped sweat from her forehead that had formed in the heat of a rare warm day. As she swiped her sleeve across her face, she caught her mother staring. “What?” She grabbed the rag from her to dry her hands. “What is it with everyone lately? Eegit looked at me that same way when I spoke of Aurelia.”

  Her mother smiled. “You have the biggest heart, my daughter.”

  Before Jastyn could ask what she meant, her mother motioned for her to follow. They walked past Alanna and Elisedd out the front door, where her mother dumped their dirty water next to the side of the house. She tucked the now empty basin against her hip, exhaled, and leaned her neck back to take in the clouds that turned the blue sky nearly silver.

  “The true cure for your sister lies in the western caves?”

  Jastyn leaned against the waist-high wall that separated their home from yards of wild grass that ran right to the Wood. “That’s what the Red One said. Eegit believes it to be true.”

  “What do you believe?” Her mother fixed her gaze on Jastyn, who fingered the end of her belt before responding.

  “I believe this whole mess with Aurelia, this search to bring her back, is the perfect path.” She paused, wary of sharing thoughts she’d been having for days. They felt personal, despite the fact she wasn’t sure why. “It’s like the gods have lined everything up. Alanna, the Red One, and now Aurelia. The three of them have come together and aligned to lead me to this day. It feels…”

  “Inevitable.”

  More clouds rolled in and the wind picked up, scattering leaves over their feet. “Exactly.”

  Her mother moved to stand beside her. Their elbows brushed. Jastyn had forgotten that they were the same height now. Her mother wiped her hands over her apron. After a while, she said, “Jastyn, I need you to understand something before you go. Something about our…about my past.” She inhaled deeply, steeling herself for what she was about to say. Jastyn turned to listen.

  “Nearly twenty-three years ago, I fell in love with the most beautiful man. He was kind, strong, and had the most ferocious spirit of anybody I had ever known.” A smile lit her face. “We met at the summer solstice festival. Those days were filled with laughter and even more love.”

  Jastyn’s heart ran faster. She knew so little about her father, it was hard to believe that she was hearing all of this. Talk of him was rare when she was a child, then vanished altogether as the years went by. She swallowed, fearful the smallest word would break whatever spell compelled her mother to speak.

  “Our time together, while wonderful, was bittersweet. You see, your father was not of the village. He wasn’t even of the kingdom.”

  A raven cawed from a tree overhead. Jastyn asked, “He was from Gultero?” Many inhabitants of Venostes had emigrated from the neighboring kingdom set on the island across the rocky shores.

  Her mother shook her head. “No.”

  “Then, he was from a faraway land?” Her chest tightened. “Like the East?”

  It was quiet between them, the silence filled only by the growing howl of the wind.

  “Jastyn, your father was a fae.”

  Jastyn laughed. “But I thought…no. You told me he was a fisherman from another land. I always assumed…” Her voice trailed off. She felt suddenly weak. Her hands trembled. Her mother reached out and took one of them, holding it tight in her own.

  Finally, Jastyn said, “The family Diarmaid. You told me the banishment they declared on you was because I was born without a father. It’s a common law in our kingdom. Was this not true?”

  Tearfully, her mother shook her head. “I fought against that law. Oh, Jastyn, did I fight.” She reached out, running the back of her hand down Jastyn’s cheek. “The royal rules frown upon children like you, but those rules can bend. In many instances, a mother alone can still live a full life, even after she is ca
st out.”

  Jastyn’s eyes stung. “But that wasn’t the only law you broke, was it?”

  “The same laws exist today as they did twenty-five years ago. However, the resentment and hatred between the royal family and many factions of fae was much worse. We didn’t have the treaty. In those days, any human-fae relationship was unspeakable. Add to that relationship the birth of a child, well…”

  Jastyn reeled. For years, she had imagined the faces of men who could be her father. In each fantasy, he was patient and handsome, strong and well-informed. Though he always wore a different face, she consistently imagined an adventurous man at sea, stalwart on a ship far out on the horizon, battling thieves and creatures from the deep ocean. Now, all of that vanished. In its place, a black anger grew.

  Jastyn shook. Any hope she had harbored for herself or her family vanished. Not only was she born gan ’athair—without a father—but she was also a mixed child. From the second she was born, she had represented a race that, only a century before, had brought famine and destruction to their neighboring kingdom.

  The history was clear: Gultero had thrived as a powerful kingdom until a new leader took the throne and decided the mingling of fae and human would be conducive to peace. He had been right, until one day, a ship of local fae returned from a stint at sea with a new crop. The entire kingdom rejoiced. When autumn came, however, no food was yielded. Instead, the earth where they’d planted had grown wretched and unusable. The disease spread across the land, poisoning trees and farmland until hundreds were left hungry. The fae who had brought in the seeds were interrogated and found guilty of treason. It was said they sought the throne and hoped to wipe out the human population. Overnight, the guilty fae were executed, and any mixed couples fled north or sailed east, and the laws changed.

  This was why people ran from her. This was who she was: a reminder of a dark past and, if given the chance, the bringer of suffering and pain.

  Her mother leaned close. “I know you believe your dislike of the royal family is warranted. And maybe part of it is. Gods know I couldn’t spend one more day in those dungeons… But you have to understand, the laws were written before Grannus and Dechtire sat on the throne. And I…I didn’t have a say when it came to whom I loved.”

  Jastyn hardly heard her mother. She stared at the Wood, seething, her shoulders rising and falling with each uneven breath.

  Her mother reached out a hand. “Jastyn?”

  “He left you.” Jastyn stood and began to pace, feeling the pain in each heavy step upon the grass.

  “What?”

  “My father…he abandoned you. Abandoned us. What kind of a man leaves his family? What kind of a man leaves his newborn child?”

  Her mother watched her. “It’s not that simple, Jastyn.”

  She spun to face her mother. “It’s not that simple? It’s never that simple, is it? That’s all I’ve heard from you for years. Our past, my childhood, Elisedd, Alanna—it’s all ‘not that simple.’ Gods, Mother, don’t you think that I understand that by now?”

  Crossing her arms, her mother said, “Darling, it was a different time. I never wanted this to be difficult for you.”

  Jastyn laughed. “Are you joking? Our lives have been nothing but difficult! We live in poverty, we work like dogs, and steal like rats, for what? To scrape together a fistful of scraps barely enough for us to survive?”

  When her mother moved to speak, Jastyn cut her off. “No, I know. Elisedd. That’s why you married. To raise us up from the ditches.”

  “I love Elisedd.”

  “What a wonderful convenience.”

  Jastyn could feel her mother’s eyes bore into her. Jastyn’s head pounded. She felt as if a tree-dweller had taken up residence in her mind, chattering incessantly until she couldn’t think. Her mother’s next words, though, proved to be the cure.

  “I didn’t tell you until now because I wanted to protect you.”

  “Protect me?”

  Her mother sighed. “Jastyn, please, let me help you understand.”

  “I understand, Mother. I understand everything. You wanted to protect me. That’s all you’ve wanted to do. Protect me from the harsh winters when the only shelter we had was a hollowed-out oak tree at the Wood’s edge. Protect me when I was hunted—at seven years old—by royal guardsmen for excessive thieving in the markets. Protect me from the prying eyes of curious neighbors, wondering at the Odium Child with dirt on her nose and scrapes on her knees.”

  “As a mother it’s my job to—”

  “Protect me! I know. But what you did wasn’t protecting me. You denied me a life. You kept me from the festivals, from the ceremonies, from befriending anyone my own age. It’s only by sheer luck and a near-death experience Coran came into my life. You did so well at making me feel righteous about our state in life. You fooled me completely. You got me to believe I had no choice in this. No choice but to take your hand and fight for everything. You taught me so well, you turned everything around. I became exactly what you wanted me to be.”

  Jastyn took a breath, her entire body shaking. “I became your protector.”

  A tear ran down her mother’s cheek as the wind whipped hair across her face. “You’re wrong.”

  “Then why did you sit back and let me become this? This lowly peasant whose best qualities are pickpocketing and lying my way into and out of things. You made me this way.” Jastyn felt as if she was going to be sick. She didn’t realize she was crying until her face stung in the harsh wind whirling over them. “You made me this way. And I resent you for it.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  Jastyn’s head throbbed. She looked at her fingers, pale from being clenched tight. She met her mother’s gaze. Finding no words, she turned to go.

  “Stop. Jastyn, wait. You need to talk to me. We can’t leave things like this.”

  Jastyn kept walking.

  Her mother’s voice grew louder. “As your mother I command you to stop!”

  Jastyn faltered only a step. More clouds rolled in overhead. Any other words her mother spoke were eaten by the blistering gale sweeping over the village hills, transforming the sky into a sheet of gray. Jastyn conjured her saol and let it lead her as far away from her mother as she could get.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Four days.

  For four days they had marched through the wood. Aurelia woke each morning, the world still dark. She was fed a stale lump of bread and allowed one minute of water from their group’s shared flask. Then she was yanked to her feet and expected to trail behind Drest until midday. That was when the pair of elves, following behind, would call out in their native tongue, which by day four Aurelia interpreted to mean something along the lines of “It’s time to eat.” At that point, the fae would locate a small creek or a narrow pond where the four of them settled for an hour. Then the process was repeated. Water, marching, food. Aurelia could request two minutes alone to relieve herself. The elves would unravel their rope snare, which wrapped and unwrapped itself from around her wrists only on their command. Aurelia had never seen such rope before or known of abilities to control it through magic. While the elf with broader shoulders was strict with her time each day, Aurelia noticed that the slender-framed fae with a sloped nose gave her an extra minute and didn’t tie her wrists as tight as his companion. She even thought she had seen a glimmer of pity in his gray gaze, though perhaps that was only her desperation conjuring wishful thinking.

  Drest, she deduced, was paying the elves to keep a close eye. At night, when they all tucked themselves away in a clearing to start a fire to sleep by, Aurelia had witnessed an exchange. Each evening, around sunset, Drest went on his own into the Wood. Aurelia ate her ration of bread quietly. During this time, the elves spoke quietly until he returned. Moments later, the elves tucked something inside their tunics. What it was, Aurelia hadn’t yet figured out.

  What Drest was using as motivation for the elves, though, Aurelia didn’t really care. By day four, Aureli
a only cared about one thing: escape. After the first night in the Wood, the night after the invasion at her brother’s remembrance, Aurelia had felt overcome. She had felt helpless and weak and wished all night for her parents to find her. But with each passing day, it began to set in that Aurelia was alone. There was no way of knowing when, or even if, her parents would rescue her. How could they? She had no idea where she was. She hated to admit that she hadn’t even known in which direction they were traveling. Between the dense tree cover and the seemingly aimless path they walked each day, it was impossible to know.

  So now, as she trudged behind Drest, glaring into his back with all of the hatred she could muster, she planned. And when the sun began to fall and she heard the elves shout from behind her, she knew it had to be tonight. Tonight, she would run. Tonight, she would escape.

  Her three captors set up camp for the night. It was the same routine: the elves collected firewood, then invoked magic to spark the flames. Aurelia sat at the base of a tree watching the flickering light, as she did each night. Her hands were still tied but looser than they were this morning, thanks to her less-intense captor. She smiled at Drest, who collected piles of leaves and brush for himself to lie upon. He had to be the laziest kidnapper in history. Since her capture, he had hardly given her a second look. Granted, he disappeared into the Wood for half the day. When he was around, he talked mostly to himself under his breath, only glancing over his shoulder occasionally on their marches to confirm she was still behind him.

  Now, Aurelia observed the nightly ritual. When she was certain the three of them were occupied, she unfurled her left hand against her right, making sure to cup her palm so that what was inside couldn’t be seen. During their midday meal, she had requested a moment to relieve herself. While the elves stood guard five paces away, she had plucked a fistful of valerian root from a clump of overgrown brush. The pale pink flowers were faded at the tips, signs of the warm summer. The plant’s sweet scent wafted over her, and she hoped it wouldn’t linger for long.