by Meg Anne
Grimacing, Effie looked up at him. “I guess I owe you an apology as well.”
Kieran shook his head. “I think you’ve suffered enough already. Besides, there’s nothing to apologize for.”
Effie appreciated that he was letting her off the hook, but she owed him an explanation. Sane people didn’t tend to run pell-mell out of a room as a means of ending an unwanted conversation.
“You just remind me so much of him.”
Kieran’s brow furrowed as he tried to follow her shift in topic. “Darrin,” he said, not quite meeting her gaze.
She nodded, staring unseeingly at the wall before them.
“It must be tough watching the one you love die right in front of you.”
Tears burned in her throat, but Effie pushed them away. “Agonizing,” she whispered. “Wait.” Her head shot up. “How did you know about that?”
He shrugged apologetically. “None of us can choose what we See.”
“Oh.” They walked a bit farther in silence before Effie continued, “Well, anyway. That day in the water . . . it brought back a memory I wasn’t prepared for.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.”
Effie snorted. “Yes, I do. You were just being friendly, and honestly, I could use a friend. I’ll try to be less of a mess from now on.”
The ghost of a frown crossed Kieran’s face, but he flashed her a quick grin and patted the hand that held onto his arm. “You’re not a mess.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence, stopping before one of the meditation rooms Kieran had shown her the day before. “We’re in here today. You get settled and I’ll be right back with something to eat.”
The room looked like a miniature library. There was a bookcase that filled one of the walls, a small desk, and two overstuffed armchairs. The walk had taken a lot out of her, not that she’d admit it to anyone, so she sunk gratefully into one of the chairs. With the way her morning was going, Effie could only imagine what else was in store for her. She fervently hoped today’s lesson would be less exciting than the last two.
At least she’d be sitting down in comfort this time. That was a definite improvement. Lips twitching in a smile, she folded her hands in her lap and waited for Kieran to return.
Kieran loaded up a plate with cheese, bread, and a few pieces of fruit.
“A friend,” he muttered, frustration sinking its claws deep into him. “If I’d have known she would still be half-in-love with him when I met her, I’d—”
Kieran stopped mid-rant, sighing as he set the plate down and squeezed the bridge of his nose. You’d have what? Stayed in Eatos? Rotted in a prison while your family forgot about you? You would have done the same thing.
Shaking his head, he picked up the plate and headed for the door, his thoughts racing, each one darker and more irritating than the last.
It was damn near impossible to seduce someone who he could hardly get alone for more than five uninterrupted minutes at a time. How was he supposed to convince Effie to see him as more than a potential friend when she wouldn’t sit still long enough for him to actually talk to her? And what was going on with Lucian? He might be Effie’s guard, but he was showing entirely too much interest in her for one who’s normally so aloof.
If he didn’t know better, Kieran would say Lucian was interested in Effie himself, but that was laughable. The Guardians didn’t do romance. They were warriors, through and through. The only thing they cared about was their mission, so it was an understatement to say that they took their duty to the Triumvirate seriously. If Lucian was interested in Effie, it was tied to her role as a Keeper.
Kieran continued to mull the thought over, only slightly relieved that he’d at least come up with some valid explanation for what was going on. Not that it helped him any. Potential suitor or not, if Lucian was going to be Effie’s guard, that was only going to make it even harder for Kieran to get Effie’s attention. He needed a plan, and fast, or it would be another twenty-five years before they’d be together. There was no way he’d let that happen. He could only be expected to remain patient for so long.
Determined, Kieran made his way back to Effie. One way or the other, she’d be his.
He’d Seen it.
Chapter 15
A soft nudge at her knee jolted her awake. Effie could feel a tell-tale wetness on her chin. Blushing furiously, she wiped at her face.
“Sorry, I must have dozed off.”
Kieran smiled, his green eyes dancing with laughter. “It’s to be expected. You’ve been through a bit.”
Spying the plate in his hand, her stomach gave a loud growl. Kieran laughed as he handed it to her and took a seat in the chair beside her.
She gave him a thankful grin. “So, what do you have in store for me today?”
“Nothing too exciting. I was given strict orders that its theoretical studies only.”
“So, no halus bane?”
“No halus bane,” he confirmed.
The depth of her relief stunned her. As much as she told herself she was ready to face her visions, she was in no hurry to do so again. Controlled setting or not.
“I promise not to fall asleep while you talk,” Effie said, biting into a piece of cheese.
Kieran grinned. “I promise not to be offended if you do.”
Swallowing another bite, Effie gestured for him to start talking.
“So, what exactly do you know about the Keepers?”
“Only what everyone knows, I expect. That they are gifted with prophecy, and that they are the advisors of the Chosen because of it.”
Kieran nodded. “That’s the gist of it, certainly. And we’ve already chatted about how the visions are symbolic, rooted in metaphors and images that would make sense to the receiver.”
“Yes, you did mention that.”
“So, what happens if two Keepers have the same vision, but interpret it differently?” he asked.
Effie blinked at him. “Is that possible?”
“You tell me. If the images are personal and left open to the interpretation of the individual, it seems to stand that they would have two very different interpretations based on their own unique experiences and understandings of the world, right?”
“Right, but if all of that is true, is such a thing as an identical vision even possible?”
Kieran’s smile was smug. “No.”
Effie dropped the cracker she’d been holding back onto her plate. “Then why ask me in the first place?”
“To make sure you understood why no two visions are ever the same.”
She rolled her eyes. “So, you’re saying the same prophecy cannot be granted to more than one Keeper.”
“I did not say that.”
“You literally just said—”
“That no two visions are the same. I said nothing of the prophecies themselves.”
“I’m not following,” Effie admitted.
“What a Keeper Sees is unique, but the message hidden within is not.”
“So, it’s not the vision itself that matters, it’s the message?”
“Exactly.”
“But how do you know that multiple people are Seeing the same thing?” Effie asked, brows scrunched together in confusion. “Do we all get together and share them at some kind of gathering?”
Considering she’d come across maybe seven Keepers since coming to the citadel, not including the Triumvirate or her tutor, that seemed unlikely.
“No, not quite. With the majority of us scattered throughout the realm, gathering en masse is impossible. The Keepers have a responsibility to make a record of each of their visions. Once the message has been discerned, they share it with the Triumvirate who check for a pattern. It’s the entire purpose of the Hall of Prophecy.”
“That’s where the Keeper’s transcriptions are kept?” she asked.
Kieran nodded. “Sometimes a prophecy will first take shape centuries before it comes into being. The Hall is how the Triumvirate ensures they never
miss a pattern, or the fruition of a prophecy.”
“And they are the only ones with access?”
“Yes. Keepers cannot afford to color their interpretation of their visions with what others have already Seen. It muddies the message, so to speak. People could start to draw correlations that simply do not exist.”
“So, if only the Triumvirate know when there’s been multiple references to a certain prophecy, how are the rest of us supposed to know when a prophecy is coming true?”
“They tell us.”
Something about that didn’t sit right with her. If the visions came to her, were hers to interpret and understand, why should she have to rely upon anyone else to tell her whether they were important or tied to something bigger?
Leaving it for another time, Effie asked, “How do we know if we are interpreting our visions correctly? Isn’t it possible to get it wrong?”
“Absolutely. It happens all the time. There’s nuance upon nuance within our visions—well, your visions. I See what will be or what has been. They are possibilities, but they are not wrapped in metaphor. Often they are echoes of the truth or a glimpse at what will come to be if certain events occur.”
“I’m really starting to hate you,” Effie sighed.
Kieran winked at her. “You don’t mean that. I bring you cheese.”
She eyed her nearly empty plate. “You bribe me. It’s not the same as outright adoration.”
Kieran laughed. “I suppose not, but I’ll take it all the same.”
“It’s hardly fair that your visions are so straightforward. How is that even possible?”
He looked away from her, his easy smile fading as shadows darkened his eyes. “The Triumvirate say that since my gift was diluted over time that it evolved.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Have you ever heard of the gates?”
Effie shook her head.
“Millennia ago, in an age long since forgotten—”
“You’re telling me children’s tales now?”
“Do you want me to answer your question or not?” Kieran asked, his voice sharp with censure. Whatever he was about to tell her was not something he shared easily.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I won’t interrupt you again.”
Kieran snorted. “I doubt that. Anyway, as I was saying. Once there were gates, portals that spanned and connected innumerable realms. The Gatekeepers were the only ones who knew the secrets of these gates and could open and close them as they saw fit. They were revered for this power. Over time, men wandered, testing their destinies in these new worlds, seeking adventure or fortune, or perhaps simply a fresh start. My people refer to this as the Seeding of Worlds.”
Effie lifted a brow, but pressed her lips together to contain the questions that fought to be asked.
Kieran’s eyes danced as if he could tell how difficult it was for her to remain quiet. “Centuries ago, the Eatonians decided to close the gates into our land. We cut ourselves off from the rest of the realms, and soon the gates became nothing more than stories. Something everyone knew of, but no one really believed in.”
What in the Mother’s name does this have to do with visions?
“Did you know there is such a gate here, in Elysia?”
Effie’s eyes widened and she shook her head.
“It’s true. It’s a ruin now, broken and inaccessible from this side, but its counterpart in Eatos is still active. It’s how I arrived here.”
“Inaccessible?” Effie blurted, no longer able to keep quiet. “Then how will you ever get back?”
“I can’t,” he said flatly. The tick in his jaw was the only hint that he was suppressing a deeply painful emotion.
“Did you know that? When you came here?” she asked.
Kieran gave one brisk nod.
Sadness washed over her. He must be so lonely. “And your family just let you go?”
His answering bark of laughter was harsh and wholly without humor. “Let me? That’s one way of putting it.”
She wanted to press him, but this line of questioning was clearly painful, and it felt like an intrusion. “Where’s the gate?” she asked instead.
“I believe it lies in what the Chosen refer to as the Broken Vale.”
Effie nodded. That made sense, especially if the gate was a ruin, as he’d he said.
“So, what brought you here?”
“My visions. An elder in the castle recognized my symptoms and was able to tell me what was happening. He’d met a Keeper once, before the gates were closed. He was able to get a message to them, and they came for me.”
At his reference to the elder, Kieran’s expression softened, losing some of the tension around his mouth and eyes.
“Castle?” Effie asked.
He gave her a self-deprecating smile. “Don’t get too excited, love. I renounced my title.”
“Title? What were you, the court jester?” Effie teased.
Kieran snorted with laughter. “I may as well’ve been for all the good being the prince did me in the end.”
Her brows lifted, but the bite of anger in his voice warned her away from prying further. It really wasn’t much of a surprise to find that Kieran had been raised a royal.
“Your grandmother was the one that came for me,” he said after a moment, glancing at her.
Effie gasped. “She was?”
“She was the first Keeper that I met.”
The revelation shocked her. What were the odds of that? Him a prince from a different realm, and her barely more than a servant, both discovering gifts that send them here. And with her grandmother tied to both of them. She couldn’t help but feel connected to him now, like a force bigger than either of them had brought them together. Kindred spirits.
Effie studied Kieran discretely. His eyes were far away, lost to whatever memories surfaced at the mention of his family. She couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like for him, to make that decision knowing he’d never see anyone he’d known ever again. To discover the people his gift stemmed from, only to forever be branded an outcast because of the differences that separated his gift from theirs.
Feeling guilty for wishing her gift was like his, Effie looked down at her hands, thinking of her grandmother as she said, “I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been. To leave your family behind.”
“Actually, it was one of the easiest decisions I’ve ever made.”
“Seriously?” she asked, her gaze shooting to his.
His eyes seared into her. “I wasn’t running away from something, Effie. I was running to something.”
The breath left her in a whoosh. He was talking about her. She knew it with a bone-deep certainty she couldn’t explain. And it made absolutely no sense.
She squirmed under the intensity of his stare and tried to move the conversation back to safer territory, not ready to explore that new bit of information too closely.
“So, they believe that your gift evolved because it was diluted?”
“That’s what they told me.”
“Diluted how?”
Kieran shrugged. “Who knows? The best answer I could come up with is that the Keepers’ gifts are linked in some way to Elysia and her people. When the gates closed, we were separated from both, so the gift was forced to evolve, seeking its power from a new source and thereby turning into something new itself. But that’s just my theory.”
“Hmm,” she murmured, looking away from him.
Silence stretched between them and Effie fiddled with the hem of her tunic. She could feel him staring at her, willing her to acknowledge what he’d hinted at. But she couldn’t. There were strings attached to such an admission, and she didn’t want to accept the responsibility that came along with it.
“Will you tell me about her?” she asked eventually, once the silence got to be too much.
“Who? Miranda?”
Effie nodded.
“She was your grandmother, what could I possibly . . .” Kier
an trailed off, his eyes warming as he understood. “Of course,” he said, his voice soft. “I’d be happy to. What would you like to know about?”
“Your time together. What she taught you. Anything, really.”
Kieran shifted in his chair, getting more comfortable before he started sharing his memories with her. The words soon poured out of him and Effie propped her chin in her hand, eager to hear the stories that made her feel closer to the woman she’d lost. With each new story the tension between them faded until they were once again just two companions fondly reminiscing about their mentor.
Effie didn’t know when she’d laid her head on her arms, or when she’d fallen asleep. It wasn’t until she saw Kieran’s face hovering above hers, his golden hair creating a curtain around both of them, that she even realized what happened.
“Shh. Rest now. I’ve got you,” he murmured, scooping her up into his arms.
Too tired to argue, she snuggled into him, letting her eyelids flutter closed as he carried her to her room.
Chapter 16
The next morning, Effie found her way to the dining hall unescorted, which was notable only because it was the first time she’d moved around the citadel on her own—if you weren’t counting her mad dashes headlong into danger, which she wasn’t.
Proud of herself for only making one wrong turn along the way, Effie breezed into the room and faltered in surprise to find it wasn’t empty. The frequent emptiness she’d experienced to this point had led to the assumption she’d have the place to herself.
Men and women were scattered throughout the room, some rifling through books while they ate by themselves, others grouped together chatting in low voices. A few curious glances were cast her way, meaning it was too late for a hasty retreat. Returning a polite smile with one of her own, Effie walked over to the buffet table and filled her plate without paying attention to what she grabbed.
After scanning the room for an empty table, Effie spotted one in the far corner, but before she could claim it, a voice stopped her.
“Are they starving you as well as hiding you?”