by H. L. Burke
“King Gan and Prince Volen.”
Of course. I should’ve known tonight was a trap.
“I know it was foolish to take to the sea, not knowing how to swim or sail, but I couldn’t let them toss me into the jaws of a monster. It was foolhardy of me, but I was desperate.”
“It was brave. You did the right thing if those were your only options.”
“Thanks.”
He could hear her smile, warm sunlight in her voice. Something in him melted, then hardened again. No use getting attached. She wouldn’t even be able to look him in the eye. Best to get her to safety, which meant away from him, as soon as possible.
They swam in silence for what felt like hours. He glanced at the eastern horizon every few minutes, terrified he’d see a line of gold heralding the dawn. Nothing but darkness and cold stars.
The roar of the breakers grew louder. His feet scraped soft sand, and he stood, still gripping her against his chest. She gasped when he released her, rocked a bit, then stood on her own. They waded to shore, the wind whisking the water from their bodies.
“We made it.” She sighed. “Thank you. I’ve had the worst night you can imagine. I’m so cold. Is there someplace I can dry off? Can we start a fire?”
“No!” He backed off a step.
“Oh. I didn’t mean to offend.”
“It’s just … not here. Look, we’re not far from my home. You can get warm and dry there, maybe spend the night, but only if you do exactly as I say.”
“All right.” Her voice wavered slightly, and she edged away from him.
Trying to keep his tone steady, Calen pointed towards the beacon in the distance, though he knew she couldn’t see him as more than a vague shadow. “That’s my home. You should have everything you need there. It’s not a long walk.”
“You aren’t going to come with me?”
“I can walk you most of the way, but I can’t come inside with you.”
“Why not? It’s your home, isn’t it?”
“It’s hard to explain.” He swallowed. Once he did explain, she’d probably run in terror. A longing to tell someone, to have someone listen to his misfortune and to possibly understand, gripped him, but he pushed it away. It simply wasn’t practical.
“It seems we both have our share of ‘long stories.’” Laidra started up the beach, her feet shuffling in the sand.
His chest rose and fell, his muscles sore from the transformation and the swim. He longed to sleep, but part of him didn’t want to see her go.
“Laidra, wait!” He ran after her.
She glanced back with a nervous laugh. “Do you want something to cover yourself? I mean, it’s dark, but the idea of you standing there in your skin like that … it kind of makes me cringe.”
He shrugged. “My clothes are at the house.”
“Here.” She peeled a shawl from her body. “I wear a lot of layers. You can wrap yourself in this.”
“Thank you.” Calen took the damp fabric and wrung it out. He wrapped it around his hips. It clung to him, cold and stiff, but if it made her more comfortable, he’d put up with it.
Her form moved before him, a pale shadow set against the dark. He wondered what she looked like. From her voice, she was young, perhaps near his own age.
“So, where are we, exactly?” she asked as they left the sand for the path beneath the palms.
“It’s called the Island of Exile.” Branches brushed Calen's face. He pushed up the fronds so Laidra could slip beneath them.
“That sounds welcoming.” She chuckled.
His lips quirked up. “Yeah, well, it’s not much, but it’s home.” He released the palm, and it snapped back into place.
She laughed, a pleasant sound. “Who else lives here?”
“Nobody, really. My mother visits from time to time, but mostly it’s just me.” He eyed the light from the beacon, careful to stay behind her, just in case.
“Really? It sounds lonely. Do you make your own food?”
“No, I have a guardian.”
“Oh, so you’re not alone, then?”
“Well, yes and no. You’ll see when you get inside. It’s hard to explain.”
“Seems to be a lot of that going around.”
The grass swiped at his legs. The light grew brighter, and the outline of the castle larger. He put his hand on her shoulder and held her back. “I should leave you here.”
Laidra glanced at the castle then at him. “Why? We’re almost there.”
“Yes, and you’ll be fine. Knock on the door and say that Calen asked you to come. The guardian will know what to do. It always does.”
“It? Not he or she?” Her voice quavered again. “Calen, you saved my life and I’m grateful, but you have to admit, this is odd. Why can’t you come with me? I’d feel so much safer if you did.”
Once the light hits me, that feeling would evaporate, he thought ruefully.
“It has to happen this way. Get inside, get warm, and get some sleep, but tomorrow—tomorrow will you talk with me for a little before you go?”
“Of course. Though, it seems as if you’re in an awful hurry to get rid of me.” Her shoulders slumped. “I suppose I should be used to that by now. Good night, Calen, and thank you. Whatever else happens, I owe you my life, and I won’t forget that.”
She offered him her hand. He grasped it and froze. The texture of her skin wasn’t what he’d expected, rough and uneven, like unpolished wood rather than the silk he’d always imagined. Of course, he’d never actually touched a girl. Her fingers squeezed his, then she hurried down the path.
Calen let out a long breath. He'd made her laugh. He'd actually made another human being, and a girl at that, laugh. Terrifying transformation into a monster aside, it had been a great night. If only he could follow her without putting her in danger. Something fluttered in his chest, a strange but not unpleasant feeling. He wanted to prolong it, to be someone a girl talked to without fear.
But that could never be.
Stepping deeper into the shadows, he watched to be certain she'd reached the door safely before he started towards the back entrance of the castle.
Chapter Seven
Laidra ran towards the castle. Her wet skirts clung to her legs, nearly tripping her several times. Sand stuck to her toes and ankles. She’d lost one of her sandals during her time at sea.
Such an odd night. Now that the danger had passed, exhaustion flooded her body, making her legs heavy. Gan and Volen, the serpent, even the sea itself had thrown everything at her, and she'd survived!
Survived, and maybe made a friend. Her lips twitched into a half-smile at the memory of Calen's strong arms about her and how he had called her brave.
She glanced back when she reached the circle of light around the castle door, hoping to catch a glimpse of Calen. He wasn’t there. Perhaps that was for the best. If she could see him, that meant he could see her. Her chest tightened at the thought. She'd lost her hood and cloak. It would be a good idea to warn him about her appearance before exposing her face to him. Or perhaps to avoid the reveal altogether.
She reached the wooden door and rapped on it. After a moment of silence, she tried again. No one answered.
The wind snaked into her hair and beneath her clothes like cold fingers. Her body trembled. She reached for the handle, but it wouldn’t open.
“Please!” she called. “Calen said I could come in and get warm!”
The door creaked open, revealing a dimly-lit stone corridor, empty.
Laidra swallowed. “Hello?”
Only silence met her. Her fingers ached from cold. Shadows gathered in the passageway before her, making it seem more like the entrance to a cave rather than a home. She hazarded a few steps inside, and the door slammed shut behind her.
Laidra yelped and nearly bolted. “Who is here? Please, I’m starting to get scared.”
“No need to fear. If the prince sent you, your wish is my command.”
The warm masculine voice cam
e out of the emptiness. She spun in a circle trying to find the source.
“Who are you? Where are you?”
“I am the guardian, and I am here. You said you need to get warm. Follow me.”
“How? I can’t see you.”
In response, the oil lamps down the hall flared brighter. Then the one in the alcove a few feet beyond that, then the next.
Drawing herself up, Laidra gripped her skirts in shaking hands and pursued the lights. Ahead, the hall split into two corridors, both identical paths of stone. The lights guided her down the right passageway. At the next fork, it took her to the left. After a while, she gave up trying to memorize the route. She passed a handful of heavy wooden doors, all closed, with no artwork or identifying features she could use to tell one from the next.
She began to wonder if they would ever reach their destination. Her arms sank against her sides as if made of lead. Her feet dragged on the cold floors.
The silent guardian took her down a stair into a room with a roaring fire and a couch covered with cushions in rich reds and purples. A rug of soft golden fur lay across the floor. She flexed her toes into it. An amphora, nearly as tall as her and painted with a scene of Menoan bull dancers, stood in the corner.
“There is a blanket at the foot of the couch. You can remove your wet garments and wrap yourself in that until better clothes can be found.”
Laidra knelt before the fire and held her hands to the flames. Her fingers tingled and prickled as they came back to life.
She glanced around the room. Still no sign of the owner of the voice. She swallowed, rubbing her arms. “You want me to disrobe? In front of you? Or are you going to leave? And how will I be sure you have left?”
“I am not a person; therefore, your modesty is unneeded. However, if my presence makes you uncomfortable, I will depart.”
The door to the room creaked shut. Laidra hesitated. “Are you here?”
No answer.
She quickly pulled her clammy robe over her head and tossed it to the side. The opal pendant still hung from her neck, miraculously not lost in the sea. Snatching up the wool blanket, she wrapped its soft folds around her. Her body melted into the couch, the warmth of the fire lapping over her like ocean waves. No, like anything but ocean waves. She never wanted to see the ocean again.
The door squeaked again. Something white floated into the room. She sat up, wondering if this was the guardian’s true form only to realize it was a tunic, hanging in midair as if on a hook.
“This is Calen’s, but he will not mind. You may cover yourself. I will leave again.”
The tunic fell to the floor, and the door shut.
She dropped the blanket and donned the loose garment. It was obviously made for a man, only coming to mid-calf rather than the ankle length considered appropriate for a female. She imagined on a man it would be knee length. Still cold, she curled up in the blanket and watched the fire.
“I’m safe here,” she whispered. “For now.”
But what about tomorrow? Calen asking to speak to her before she departed suggested that he didn’t want her to stay, but she had nowhere to go. Her family didn’t want her. Gan had only evil intentions towards her. Calen had saved her life. She couldn’t ask him for more.
“Unnamed god,” she prayed, “you spared me. Whether out of pity or purpose, I know not, but if pity, please give me purpose … and if purpose, please, take pity and let me discover why.”
Her eyes closed. The firelight flickered through her lids, soothing her. She reached for the opal pendant. With one hand clasped around it, she allowed herself to drift off to sleep.
***
Calen entered the back entrance to the castle and leaned against the wall. If Father and Volen were actively setting traps for him, they had to be getting desperate. But how did Laidra fit into this? Calen avoided harming others but not because he feared it would curse him further. If his father thought Laidra’s murder would doom Calen and save Volen, there had to be more to her, some sort of magic. Hopefully he’d be able to question her on the matter without arousing too much suspicion. He didn’t wish to scare her, and the less she knew about his situation, the better.
An oil light flickered to life at the end of the hall. From the shadows floated a white tunic. Calen took it and clothed himself.
“Where’s the girl?”
“I escorted her to the sitting room,” the guardian answered. “She fell asleep almost immediately.”
Calen nodded. Part of him wanted to go to her, to look on her while she slept and put a face to that voice and name. Too risky. Still, that room had no windows. It might be the ideal place for them to talk.
“She’s probably exhausted. When she awakens, make certain there is no light in the room. I want to speak with her tomorrow before she goes.”
The oil lamp extinguished itself, alerting him to the guardian’s departure. With a sigh, he started up the stairs to his room on the parapet.
Calen opened the door then drew back. “Mother? What are you doing here?”
Zephia sat on a stool in the corner, eyes covered and hands folded in her lap. “A fine greeting.” Her eyebrow arched over her blindfold.
He let out a breath. “It’s been a long night, that’s all.”
“I know. Your father and brother’s plot failed, partly because of my counter-measures and partly because they underestimated the girl.”
“The girl, Laidra, is she somehow tied up in the curse?”
“Yes, and likely as not, if you had devoured her as your father intended, you would be a monster permanently. Thankfully, Laidra has some gumption.” A faint smile played across his mother’s lips. “She has a strong heart. You will like her.”
“She needs to leave.” He scowled. “She’s in danger here, so close to me.”
“There are ways around that, ways for her to be safe. This castle was designed to enable such visits and allow people to live near yet never lay eyes on each other.”
“It’s still too risky. She won’t want to stay, anyway. I have nothing to offer her except darkness and solitude.” Calen sat on his sleeping couch. “It’s good to see you, Mother, as always, but I’m tired. Perhaps we can talk in the morning?”
“No, I need to return to Carta to keep an eye on your father. This setback won’t delay him long. He’s determined to cure Volen.”
“All the more reason to get Laidra away from me.”
“You assume she will want to go.” Zephia stood and felt forward, searching for him. He reached for her hand and guided her to his side. “I’m not saying to keep her here by force or deceit.” She touched her son’s arm. “You are worthy of love, Calen. Tell her about yourself. Let her tell you about herself. You may be surprised. Some women are capable of discerning a man’s heart, even in darkness.”
Calen rubbed the back of his neck. As short as his interaction had been with Laidra, she’d treated him like a human—a hero even. He’d saved her life. If they parted now, she wouldn’t truly know him, but she’d carry the idea of him, him as a hero and as a man, with her. If he told her the truth, he’d go from hero to horror. She’d never again think of him as she had this night.
“Sleep.” Zephia stroked his cheek, then glided towards the door. “If you need me, I will return, but in the meantime, consider my words. It isn’t good for you to always be alone.”
The door shut behind her. Calen extinguished the oil lamp and lay on his bed. Fingers of gray light tickled the wooden beams of his ceiling. Dawn. He’d gotten back to the palace just in time.
I have nothing to lose by telling her the truth. Nothing real, anyway. Best to get it out of the way before I have a chance to grow attached to her. Not tonight, though. Tonight, let her rest not knowing she’s sleeping near a nightmare.
***
A shuffling noise awakened Laidra. The fire had died to a few red coals, like lidless eyes in the darkness. She shuddered and stood to look for something to stir up the flames. Perhaps the sound had
been a dream.
“Are you awake?”
Laidra gasped and whipped around. A wall of shadows greeted her. “Who—who’s there?”
“It’s me. Calen.”
The tension between her shoulders eased. “I can’t see you. Here, let me stoke the fire.”
“No!” His voice sharpened.
She quailed away, her breath quickening.
“Please,” he said, a little quieter. “You can’t … I can’t be seen.”
Laidra raised her eyebrows. “Why not?”
“It’s hard to explain, and you probably won’t believe me.”
She sat down on the couch and scanned the darkness. There was, perhaps, a shape in the corner that might be a man … or just a particularly black patch of dark. “Calen, in the last day or so, I’ve narrowly escaped being eaten by a giant serpent only to be plucked from the sea and brought to a home where an invisible entity sees to my needs.” A smile played across her lips. “I think I’m well beyond skepticism.”
“But not beyond fear,” he whispered.
A cold shiver chased down her spine. “I don’t think I could ever fear you. You saved my life.”
“Yes, but you haven’t seen me. I could be anyone or anything.”
“You haven’t seen me either.” Her stomach folded in on itself. “When you do, you may be the one who wishes to flee.”
“Why?”
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “This is your home. Perhaps you should tell your story first.”
“All right, but I’ll understand if you don’t believe me. It has to do with a curse.”
Laidra’s hands tightened on the blanket. “Actually, I have a bit of experience with curses. I know the power they can hold. Are you—are you cursed?”
“Yes.” The couch shifted towards the far end. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she realized how close he was to her.
“How?” she asked.
“My father has enemies. When my brother and I were born, we were struck with a mirror curse.”
Her breath hitched. “So you have different halves of the same curse?”
“Yes. When my brother is with people—when eyes are upon him— he is a man like any other, but when he is alone or in darkness, he changes into a monster.”