by Jen McIntosh
Later, the Lady had explained more. That Renila had run away, fleeing some nameless threat. The Lady, too, was hiding. Her children were in danger, for they were blessed with magic. And though it was perhaps little more than a remnant of some ancient spell, all magic was dangerous and sought by those who craved power. It had to be kept secret until they came of age.
Renila fidgeted with her necklace again, the only thing she had of her life before, then took a deep breath. She pushed the black thoughts from her mind, forcing herself to look at Farran. How was she to explain that sometimes, inexplicably, she just knew things? How could she explain the vast wealth of knowledge in her head? More knowledge than anyone her age could have learned? Stranger, that she had no memory of learning these things? How could she explain the stories? She didn’t know where she’d ever heard them, but she knew them – hundreds of them, as if the words were inked on her heart.
The simple answer was that she couldn’t explain any of it, and if she tried, Farran would either think her mad or a liar. She wasn’t sure which was worse. So, she bowed her head in submission.
‘I’m sorry, Captain,’ she said. ‘I behaved recklessly … I will not do so again. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must see to the children.’
She curtseyed and left without meeting his gaze. She didn’t think she could bear for him to see the tears that threatened to stain her cheeks. It was only the feeling of Olly’s eyes on her retreating back that made her walk calmly down the hallway.
Only once she rounded the corner, beyond sight and hearing, did she let that rising wave of emotion wash over her. Crushed beneath it, she crumpled to the ground and wept. She’d never felt so alone … or so lost.
Chapter Four
Suriya was glad for a day free of her mother. Neither she nor Lucan had been plagued by the nightmares again, but she was exhausted and in no mood to pretend otherwise. Particularly not for her mother. Why she was so incapable of simple kindness, never mind warmth or tenderness, was beyond Suriya.
With a frustrated sigh, she sat at her dressing table and glowered at her reflection in the mirror. Renila had not been to see them that morning, leaving Suriya to choose her own outfit for the day. She far preferred the velvet tunic, brown leggings and soft, fleece-lined leather boots to the fancy dresses her mother liked her to wear anyway. Particularly if she had any hope of keeping up with the boys.
Her hair, on the other hand, was an unruly mess. It was a wild mass of dark gold curls that fell just shy of her waist. The colour was nice enough, shining almost red gold in the sunlight. But it had a mind of its own, catching in non-existent winds. Mostly whenever her emotions got the best of her. That, combined with her quiet demeanour, seemed to have given her the reputation in the castle of being … peculiar. Strange. Other. People, other children in particular, mostly avoided her. Something about her made them nervous. Uncomfortable.
Even her eyes were strange. Almond-shaped and slanted, they were the colour of molten gold – an odd enough colour to be sure, but sometimes they almost seemed to … glow. She was, however, safe in the knowledge she was nowhere near as peculiar as Erion. Her eyes at least stayed the same colour. But neither her hair nor her eyes were anything compared to the peculiarity of her ears. Scowling, she pulled her hair over the tapered tips to hide their deformity. She didn’t like the way people stared at them.
Cursing at her misfortune to be burdened with such an abnormal appearance, she braided her hair as best she could. Satisfied her ears were hidden, she set out in search of Lucan. Her brother had dressed and gone ahead to the kitchens for their breakfast, since their mother ‘did not require their presence’ that morning.
She scowled as the words echoed in her head. What kind of mother required their children’s presence? Renila had never treated Erion with such cold aloofness. No mother in the castle had. The blacksmith’s wife smothered their son with attention, not to mention gifts and food. Suriya shuddered at the thought. There had to be a happy medium between that pampering mare and her own heartless mother.
Lucan was waiting for her outside the kitchens, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. Unlike Suriya, Lucan was well-admired within the castle. While she repelled people, he drew them in with his effortless charm. Other girls in the castle said the sight of him took their breath away. Suriya could see why. He was still a boy, with the softness of childhood rounding his features, but her brother was stunningly handsome. In years to come, she had no doubt that he would break plenty of hearts.
A shaggy mop of silvery hair covered his brow and fell into his eyes with seemingly careless indifference. Suriya knew better. Lucan had a strange birthmark on his forehead he preferred to keep hidden, for much the same reason as she covered her ears. Most folk in the castle were superstitious, and such defects were considered a sure sign of witchcraft.
Suriya snorted inwardly. A single glance at Lucan’s eyes was enough to realise there was magic in him. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, and she’d never shared the belief with anyone, but she was certain that Lucan was no mere mortal. By extension, neither was she, since the same blood flowed in their veins. Exactly what they were, she didn’t know either … but no mortal boy should have eyes so captivating. He was her brother, and she knew him better than her own heart. But when she met Lucan’s gaze, her mind emptied. All she saw were his stunning, pearlescent blue eyes, gleaming like moonstone in candlelight.
Over the years she had learned to avoid looking directly into that particular trap. Instead, she focussed on his eyelashes or his brows or the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose that matched her own. Lucan wasn’t stupid. He realised she never met his eyes. He just didn’t understand why. At some point, he’d decided it was because she was shy – unsure and deferring to her brother to lead the way. It was easier to let him believe that than explain the truth of it.
‘Mal is in a black humour today,’ warned Lucan as she approached. ‘Saw me coming a mile off and chased me out with a rolling pin.’
‘I’ll do it,’ she said, running a smoothing hand over her hair. ‘What do you want?’
Lucan snorted and shook his head in disbelief. With a sarcastic bow, he gestured towards the kitchen in challenge. ‘Whatever you can get.’
She threw him a withering glance as she opened the door and slipped inside. Mal spotted her as soon as she entered. The woman scowled in annoyance.
‘Lady Suriya,’ she snapped. ‘What are you doing in here?’
Suriya looked at her feet, shifting anxiously in a way she’d learned made others more comfortable in her presence. Though she was already small, she slumped to make herself smaller, appear less of a threat. Anything to fool whatever instincts made people afraid of her.
‘I’m terribly sorry to bother you,’ she mumbled, curtsying with deliberate awkwardness. ‘I was wondering if you had any scraps or leftovers to spare? It’s such a beautiful day outside, I thought we could have a picnic? I was hoping to surprise the other children …’ She trailed off artfully, eyes downcast, biting her lip nervously while she fidgeted with the front of her tunic.
Mal crumbled. She fetched the basket herself and filled it full of bread rolls, thin slices of cured meats, cheese, apples, pears, sweet honey cakes and strawberry tarts. There were even two glass bottles of apple juice – pressed that morning with fresh fruit from the castle orchard. Then she covered the basket with a blanket and ushered Suriya out the door, with much advice about the best spot for a picnic.
Lucan was waiting for her on the front steps, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair as he took in the feast she carried. He let out a low whistle and shook his head. ‘How did you manage that?’
‘I asked nicely.’
Lucan winced but nodded in agreement. ‘Fair enough.’
‘There’s enough for everyone,’ she said. ‘Mal said it was alright for everyone else to join us, just so long as chores are done by sunset.’
Lucan crowed with delight and tore off towards the stables. ‘I’ll tell Erion and get the others to spread the word.’
‘Alright,’ she called back. ‘I’ll be down by the burn.’
He threw a hand up to show he’d heard before he disappeared into the courtyard. Suriya smiled. For all his quirks, she loved her brother. They were two halves of the same whole – equal and opposing forces that balanced each other out perfectly.
Lucan was racing through the fields with Erion and the other children. Alone on the picnic blanket, Suriya smiled indulgently at their antics. She wasn’t sure what they were playing, but it seemed to involve a lot of ferocious yelling and even some screaming. She heaved a sigh and counted her blessings at being left out.
They were on the edge of the orchard, shaded from the sun by a large apple tree. The stream that was the source of fresh water for the castle ran alongside. The pleasant sound of the water gurgling over the rocks was a soothing backdrop to such a beautiful day. Across the stream, the farmers’ fields stretched until they met the forest. The paddock closest held a small herd of cows, along with a larger flock of sheep, and a few goats. The one beside that was empty except for the farmer’s two placid plough horses. Beyond that, the fields were devoted to crops.
She watched as Erion bowed out of the game, blowing hard from the effort. Lucan mocked him, but even at this distance, she sensed his worry. If she were being honest, she shared it. Erion seemed to grow weaker with every passing day, though nothing seemed obviously wrong with him. They’d asked their mother about it once, asked her to help their friend. She’d told them to mind their own business. To distract herself from her fears, Suriya continued to study the surrounding land.
The castle was self-sufficient – it even had a mill further downstream to grind flour for bread. Once a month, Captain Farran sent a small party out to the nearest market to trade and to hunt for game. But they could survive without such ventures if necessary.
The picnic was a mark of the bounty the land provided. Food and drink for such an unnecessary treat might have been considered wasteful in the dead of winter. But Suriya had known there was plenty to spare, especially when the farmers had been boasting of their harvests for the last fortnight. She wouldn’t have asked otherwise.
It hadn’t taken the children long to demolish most of the picnic. Unsurprisingly, all the cakes and tarts were long gone. There was still some bread and cheese left, and she handed some to Erion as he approached and collapsed on the blanket, panting with exertion. He mumbled his thanks through a mouthful of fluffy dough and watched Lucan and the others continue the game without him.
‘Are you alright?’
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ he asked with his most endearing smile.
She wasn’t fooled. Erion was the only person she’d ever encountered who she and Lucan could not charm, but that immunity seemed to go both ways. He never had been, nor likely ever would be, able to pull the wool over their eyes. She gave him a withering look that said as much. He chuckled but said nothing.
‘It’s getting worse,’ she pressed.
Erion waved her away with a dismissive hand. ‘I’m fine. I’m just worried about my mother.’
Suriya recognised a distraction when she saw one, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking, ‘What’s wrong with Renila?’
‘She went out riding in an awful rage,’ he explained. ‘Captain Farran was waiting for her when she came back. He was furious. He took her back into the castle. But I haven’t seen her since.’
Suriya frowned. ‘She didn’t come to wake me and Lucan this morning either. When I asked for her, nobody could find her. What was she so angry about?’
‘Not a clue,’ he huffed, running a tired hand across his brow.
Suriya took his hand in her own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Then she stood. ‘Would you please ask Lucan to take the basket and blanket back to Mal, once everyone’s finished?’
‘Of course,’ he responded, brows furrowing. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To find Renila.’
Erion struggled to his feet. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘It’s alright,’ she assured him. ‘I can manage. You should enjoy the sunshine while you can – winter isn’t that far off. Besides, the fresh air will do you some good.’
Suriya checked Renila’s rooms first then popped her head into the kitchen to ask Mal if anyone had seen her – they had not. She checked the library, the drawing room and the dining room. Having no success, she dared to approach her mother’s chambers. The Lady was out of her rooms, so she was safe to take a brief glance around. No surprise that Renila wasn’t there either. The difficult relationship she and the Lady shared was no secret.
Suriya squared her shoulders. Time to face the Captain then.
Olly’s baby blue eyes grew wide as she approached. She smiled sweetly at him, using whatever girlish charms she could muster, fluttering her lashes and blushing.
‘Can I help you?’ he mumbled.
‘Oh, could you?’ she asked, leaning closer. He swallowed, glancing about nervously. ‘I was hoping to speak with the Captain. It’s a matter of grave urgency.’
He nodded fervently and scrambled for the door. The poor boy couldn’t open it fast enough, and he bowed far lower than necessary as he showed her in. She gave him a shy smile then turned her attention to the man behind the desk.
Captain Farran did not seem impressed by the interruption.
‘Olly? What is this?’ he snapped, looking up from the mountain of paperwork on his desk and frowning at the intrusion. Evidently his mood had not improved since Erion had seen him with Renila. Olly flushed to the root of his hair.
‘Captain Farran,’ he stammered, gesturing at her, ‘the Lady Suriya.’
Farran’s scowl deepened. ‘Yes, I can see that. What I want to know is what she’s doing in my office?’
Olly’s mouth opened and closed several times as he struggled to find an explanation.
‘I need to speak to you, Captain,’ she insisted, her voice quiet but firm. Farran raised a dubious eyebrow, studying her cautiously. He was one of the few in the castle who didn’t flinch from the sight of her. In fact, Suriya could see the glimmer of respect growing in his eyes as she added, ‘In private.’
‘Out. I’ll deal with you later,’ he ordered the shamefaced boy. Olly bowed again and left. Farran leaned back in his chair, a finger running over his chin. ‘Well, Lady Suriya, how may I be of service?’
She did not miss the hard edge of irony beneath his otherwise mild tone. Clearly, he thought her nothing but a silly girl, wasting his time. But she refused to flinch. ‘It’s about Renila.’
‘What about her?’ he asked.
Suriya held his gaze. ‘Erion said she ran away from the castle. When she came back, he said you escorted her out of the stables … nobody has seen her since then.’
‘I’ve no idea where she is, if that’s what you’re asking,’ he answered, frowning as he leaned forward. ‘She’s in the castle – I escorted her back in myself and instructed my men not to let her leave again. I’m afraid I know no more than that.’
Suriya was unconvinced. She cocked her head to the side as she considered him. ‘She was upset. Why?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Erion said you were furious.’
Farran’s scowl deepened. It wasn’t a question but he answered it anyway. ‘She behaved recklessly. Put herself and everyone else at risk.’
‘How?’
‘It’s not my place to say, Lady Suriya. I suggest you ask your mother.’
Suriya resisted the urge to scowl, but her irritation took another outlet.
‘Does Renila realise you’re in love with her?’ she asked innocently.
Farran sat in stunned silence, his jaw hanging open with shock. ‘What did you say?’
Suriya repressed a snort.
‘I’m sorry, never mind,’ she said, trying her best to look abashed. ‘Please, for
get I said anything. I’ll go now.’ She turned to leave, then paused. ‘Forgive me, Captain, I’m terribly scatter-brained – remind me, what happened with Renila this morning?’
Farran’s expression said he knew exactly what she was about, but he gave her what she wanted. ‘I don’t know what transpired, but this morning I saw Renila storming out of your mother’s rooms in a terrible rage. I caught up with her just in time to see her charge out into the fields and beyond, unarmed and unescorted. Anything could have happened. I was angry at her for endangering herself and everyone else. I told her so when she returned – we argued, and she left. That’s all I know, my lady.’
Suriya nodded in understanding and curtseyed. ‘Thank you, Captain,’ she said. ‘I’m sure she’ll turn up.’ She turned on her heel and stalked from the room, ignoring Olly as she hurried down the corridor.
With a deep breath, she forced herself to think it through as she gazed out of a nearby window. Renila had returned to the castle, so at the very least she should be safe when darkness fell. The nights drew in closer with each passing day. The long, dark hours put the entire castle on edge. With the night came the nightmares. Suriya frowned. It was still daylight outside, but sunset was not far off.
Sunset. Of course, she realised, slapping herself on the forehead. She cursed her own stupidity and tore off down the hall, careering through the kitchen with reckless abandon. Mal yelled a torrent of abuse after her, but Suriya paid no heed. She was already charging up the spiral staircase to the top of the tower. By the time she reached the top, she was gasping for breath, and she practically fell through the door as she shoved it open.
Renila was sitting on the ramparts, her feet dangling over the edge as she awaited the oncoming sunset. Her claret hair was caught in the wind, dancing and snapping like a scarlet pennon. In the dying light of the day, her skin glowed with a tawny hue that almost matched her brilliant amber eyes.