Water House

by Shelly Jarvis

  “I was hoping you’d stay by the fire,” Graeme said, his voice so low it took Ros a second to work out his words. “This is no place for the future Queen of Talabrih.”

  “Nor for a man who could become king,” she said.

  He laughed, but the sound was bitter. “Not much chance of that now. Not with Florian around.”

  “Whatever secret he has on you doesn’t really matter. We all have a past, Graeme.”

  “Aye, we do. The secret...well, it’s not the secret that’s the problem.”

  “Then what is it?”

  He sighed. “I was in love, Ros. With a girl from Fire house.”

  “Which girl?” she asked, though from the interaction with Florian, she could guess.

  “Cordelia le Fevre. Florian’s sister.”

  Ros nodded. “I’ve spent some time with her, when we were younger. She’s a lovely girl. Still, I’m not sure why that’s a problem.”

  “She loved me, too,” Graeme said. Ros could hear hurt in his voice as he said the words. Part of her was grateful it was too dark to see his face. “And we, well, we did what people do when they’re in love.”

  “Is that supposed to be the big secret that disqualifies you from the Great Match? Because it’s not a big deal.”

  “She was with child,” he said. “Her family sent her away. I was furious, searched everywhere for her, but they’d hidden her well. Florian was my best friend, like my brother. I thought he would help me. Instead, he turned me away, all because I’d dared to love his sister.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She returned after having our baby. But the child wasn’t with her. She abandoned him to someone else to raise.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ros whispered. She knew the words weren’t enough, but she didn’t know what else to say.

  “I tried to find out where our child was, but she wouldn’t tell me. We got in a huge fight about it and I said things I didn’t mean. I returned for her the next day, thinking we could work it out but…”

  He let the words trail off and Ros was afraid to ask more. She had heard rumors that Cordelia had disappeared and now she knew why. Graeme’s secret was that he had fallen in love, disgraced the Fire house’s first daughter, and because of him she was gone, probably never to return. It was a scandal, but it wasn’t as if he’d done something out of malice.

  After a moment of quiet, Ros asked, “Do you still love her?”

  “Yes,” he whispered without even a pause.

  “Well, that could put a damper on our relationship.”

  “I don’t want you to get hurt, Princess, but I’m not here for a love match. I want to be king, I need to be king, to try to fix this system and make sure no one else loses the love of their life like I did.”

  His words struck Ros to her core. She wasn’t worried that he wasn’t interested in her—she knew love was far less important than finding the right man to be by her side. But listening to him talk about making things better for Talabrih clarified they were on two paths to the same goal. Graeme wasn’t here to fall in love with her, but he was here to improve the land she loved.

  “Thank you for telling me your secret,” she said. “It can’t have been easy, especially considering what it could cost you.”

  He sighed. “I hope you’ll at least let me help find your father before you send me away.”

  “I’m not sending you away.”

  “What? After all I’ve told you…”

  “You told me of a man in love, a man who wishes to do better for his kingdom. Those are not reasons to disqualify you. If anything, my opinion of you is higher.”

  “Doesn’t the thought of a lost heir frighten you? What if we’re married and my child comes looking for his father?”

  “If anything, we would search for your child and try to bring them home to you.”

  “I don’t know what to say. This is not the answer I expected. You are not the woman I envisioned would be inheriting the throne.”

  “I want the best for Talabrih. Having someone at my side who is willing to sacrifice their own happiness for the betterment of our land, well, that’s the best I could hope for.”

  Light creeped up behind Ros, shining on Graeme’s face as he stood in front of her. For the first time since following him away from the campfire, she could see he was smiling. It wasn’t the boisterous thing that Florian wore, or Cassian’s smirk, but something entirely different. Graeme’s smile looked shy, like he was afraid to show it.

  “Ros, are you alright?”

  She turned towards the light behind them where Cassian stood with a torch. “We’re fine. Just having a chat.”

  The light shone in her eyes and she couldn’t see Cassian’s face, but she could almost hear the concern as he said, “Perhaps you could finish your chat near the camp. It’s dangerous to wander off out here.”

  “He’s right,” Graeme said. “I should have known better than to step so far from the fire.”

  “Yes, you should have,” Cassian grumbled.

  As the three started back towards the others, Ros asked, “Did you get the horses?”

  Cassian nodded. “Thanks to Zandor.”

  “Oh, you two have made up?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far. But I’m grateful for his help.”

  They were within the campfire’s light when they heard the first howl. Rosalinde’s heart hammered in her chest and she clutched at Cassian’s arm. She knew there were beasts along the roads, had heard tales from travelers about wolves and bears and other, darker things that probably weren’t real.

  “Come on,” he said, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer to the fire.

  A trio of howls erupted into the night, closer than before.

  “Wolves?” Florian asked. He lounged by the fire, digging an ornamental dagger into the ground beside him.

  “Let’s hope so,” Cassian said.

  “Come now,” Florian said. “Tell me you’re not one of those who believes the stories about the other things that come out at night. I took you for a practical man, if not a very bright one.”

  Cassian’s jaw clenched. “I believe in what my eyes can see, little lordling. And trust me, my eyes have seen far more than yours ever will. Including a few things that would make your spoiled skin crawl.”

  Florian raised his hands. “Calm down, darkling. I only meant—”

  “I know what you meant.”

  Another howl broke into their conversation. Zandor said, “They’re coming from the tree line. Can we give them an elemental push to get them to back off? Water or Air, maybe?”

  “Don’t,” Cassian said. His voice was quiet, but commanding. All eyes were on him as he said, “Until we know for sure what’s in those trees, we can’t risk it.”

  “What do you think is out there?” Ros asked.

  He pressed his lips together and shook his head. Before he could answer, an earsplitting screech echoed across the area where they’d made camp. Ros turned towards the sound. It was unlike anything she’d ever heard, far from the howls of the could-be wolves.

  Then she saw it. It was too dark to make out it’s features, but she could see a massive shape swaying in front of the trees. It was bigger than a wolf, bigger than a horse even, but she reminded herself it could still be something natural and not like the monsters from the travelers’ stories.

  Florian stood beside her now, staring out into the darkness at something they couldn’t quite see. Without warning, he flicked his hand and lightning cracked at the tree line beside the beast, lighting it up for one terrible, fear-confirming second.

  “No,” Florian breathed. “Impossible. Was th-that a…”

  Cassian swallowed hard. “Yeah. There’s a vuljasari over there and you just pissed her off.”

  Chapter 24

  The beast’s image was burned into Rosalinde’s mind. It was slightly bigger than a bear standing on its back legs, but hairless, with large, exaggerated eyes
like orbs of night. Stark white against the tree line when the lightning struck, there were only two hints of color on its body: the thick, bulging veins tinged canary-yellow and the gory mess of red around its mouth. It was a thing of nightmares.

  “Vuljasari?” Ros stammered. “I didn’t think they were real.”

  “Oh, they’re real, Princess,” Cassian said.

  Florian said, “Build up the fire. Stick close to it. That’ll keep her away.”

  Cassian shook his head, pulling Ros back behind the others. “Doesn’t work.”

  “Silver and salt?” Zandor asked.

  “No,” Cassian said. “Get to the horses. Slowly. Move too fast and she’ll charge.”

  “The horses?” Ros asked.

  “We’ll have to outrun it.”

  “Coward,” Graeme spat.

  Cassian’s jaw clenched, but he kept pushing Ros towards the horses. “Fight if you want. I won’t stop you if you have a death wish.”

  Graeme said, “If we all fight together—”

  “Then we all die together,” Cassian finished. “This isn’t a fairytale. You heard the howls? That was her babies. She’s hunting for their dinner.”

  “We have a chance to rid the world of those things.”

  “Those things have as much right to life as we do. I don’t want to get eaten by them, but I won’t try to destroy them, either.”

  “That’s cute,” Graeme said. “A pacifist Night mage.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about my people,” Cassian growled.

  “And hopefully I never will. If we’re lucky, the other houses will join together and wipe you out before there are any more of you. Just like I’m going to wipe out that vuljasari.”

  Ros flinched, shocked by the vitriol spewing from Graeme. Only a few minutes ago, she was listening to him talk about being in love and the consequences of that. She was considering how he would be as King of Talabrih and how he would treat his people. Now all she could see was the darkness in his eyes.

  Darkness, she thought, her eyes going wide. She could see it now, almost like an aura radiating around him. She could see the darkness consuming him, just like it had consumed her in the great hall.

  Cassian’s words cut into her thoughts. “She will rip you limb from limb.”

  “Has to catch me first,” Graeme said.

  He shot up into the air, buoyed by a gust of wind. There was a howl, louder than any of those before, and it sent a chill down Rosalinde’s back. Cassian clasped her hand and she felt them move through the night as he teleported them the rest of the way to the horses. He lifted her onto Mercutio and as soon as she had her hands on his reins, he slapped the horse’s rear and sent it flying into the night.

  Ros tried to look back over her shoulder to see what was happening, but Mercutio raced headlong into the darkness and all she could see was the faint spot of campfire as it diminished to a speck behind them, then nothing at all.

  Chapter 25

  Ros lost track of time as the horse careened through the night. After a while, minutes or hours, she didn’t know, Mercutio slowed to a walk. She felt relief push through all her other emotions, knowing the horse had at last stopped sensing danger around them.

  She looked around in the darkness, unable to make out anything through the trees. Ros hadn’t noticed when they entered the forest, but now the dark canopy above and the shadowed trunks around her gave her an uneasy feeling.

  Ros took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She loved the woods in the daylight, but now the dangers lurking just out of sight were all she could think about.

  She didn’t know where she was or how she would find the others again. All she knew was that she had to keep going, no matter how much she wanted to go back for her companions. She kept reminding herself that they were powerful Elementalists, that they could defend themselves, and that her father was still out there needing her help.

  “Okay, Mercutio,” she said, leaning forward to pat the horse’s neck, “let’s get out of these woods, eh? We’ll find a place to wait for the others, somewhere I can make a little pool for you to get a good drink after all your hard work.”

  Almost as soon as she’d said the words aloud, she heard a trickle of water nearby. It sounded like a steady stream, but she knew they hadn’t crossed one earlier in the day, so she must’ve ridden in the opposite direction of the castle. Whether that was good or bad, she didn’t know.

  The trees thinned out as they approached the water, giving way to a full moon above. The light set the area before her aglow, stained in silver. The thick underbrush had given way to a flower-lined path that seemed to ebb and flow around her feet. She climbed off Mercutio and led the horse to the water’s edge. He sniffed at the stream, but wouldn’t drink. Instead, he jerked his head back, trying to pull his reins from her grasp.

  She gave up trying to force Mercutio to the stream and instead rummaged through her saddlebag until she found what she was looking for. She’d put a small bowl in her bag so she could wash herself without the need to find water. Thankfully, Cassian hadn’t had time to unpack Mercutio with the fiasco with the other horses running away.

  She focused her magic as small as she could—a chore for her, to be sure—and after a few minutes of accidentally spraying herself in the face, she managed to slosh a bit of water into the bowl. Mercutio gulped at it greedily and she refilled it several times before he seemed to have his fill.

  “Smart horse,” a saccharine-sweet voice said.

  Ros jumped. Her eyes jerked in the direction of the voice, but no one was there.

  “Over here,” it said again.

  She caught sight of the voice’s owner this time, though just barely. It was a flicker at the corner of her vision, something she couldn’t quite look at. Ros turned her head to stare at a tree in the distance and let her peripheral vision catch the glimmer of a figure off to her right. Though she couldn’t be sure of any details, the speaker was humanoid in appearance and about the size of a child. She saw flashes of silver as it moved, though she couldn’t be sure if it was hair or skin or clothes reflecting moonlight.

  Moonlight, she thought. There wasn’t moonlight when we were setting up camp because it’s a new moon. So why is it here now?

  “Why are you here, human?” the creature asked.

  “I got lost,” Ros said. She’d heard stories of creatures like this, sprites and fae and a host of other things. All the tales said they could hear it if you lied, and they didn’t like it. Best to keep her answers true and as short as possible.

  “Your horse is tired.”

  “Yes,” Ros said.

  A tinkle of laughter filled the air. “You’re a talkative one, aren’t you? I could ask you different questions if I wanted, pull the truth from you. But I’m not after you, human, so I won’t force your words if you do not wish to speak them.”

  Ros was taken aback, unsure how to proceed. The more she interacted with the creature, the more likely she was to be ensnared by it. Then again, she probably wouldn’t meet anyone else out here, wherever here was, and perhaps this one could help her get back to the others.

  “We were running from a vuljasari. My friends and I were attacked.”

  The creature made a soft sound, like air sucking through their teeth. “Vuljasari. Terrible things, when they’re hungry. But if you’re alive, you weren’t attacked.”

  “My friend put me on the horse and sent me running before it made it into camp.”

  “They aren’t here and you are, so they put your safety before their own. Sounds like a good friend.”

  “Yeah,” Ros croaked, a sob rising in her throat.

  “Oh, don’t cry, human. I hate it when you do that.”

  “Sorry,” she said, trying to hold back her tears. “It’s just, I don’t know if they’re alive or…or…”

  The tears poured from her eyes, no matter how hard she tried to hold them back. The little creature made a frustrated noise in their throat and said, �
�Please stop. I can’t stand the sounds you’re making.”

  Ros sobbed harder, stammering, “I’m sorry,” between hiccups.

  “Fine, fine, I’ll make you a deal: you stop crying and I’ll grant you a wish.”

  “A wish?” she asked. She still couldn’t make out the creature’s form, but there weren’t many in the old stories who could grant wishes. That, combined with the unnatural moonlight, left her with one conclusion. “You’re a Moonchild.”

  She got the distinct impression it was rolling its eyes at her as it said, “Oy, so clever, aren’t you.”

  There was a shimmer in the air around the Moonchild and suddenly she could see the creature fully. It was a wisp of a thing and smaller than she’d originally thought, barely bigger than a toddler. The silver flashes she’d seen were from the Moonchild’s faintly glittering skin and long tresses that looked as if they’d been spun from starlight.

  Ros wasn’t sure what to say, now that the creature had made itself visible to her. None of the tales had prepared her for this. She wiped her eyes, removing the traces of her breakdown, then bowed to the creature and said, “I am Rosalinde Adara Managold.”

  The Moonchild bowed in return. “Datura Whimsy, at your service. But please, just call me Whimsy.”

  “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Whimsy.”

  “I’m sure you are, when the other choice is the inside of a vuljasari. But not to worry—it can’t harm you as long as you’re in moonlight.”

  Rosalinde’s brows raised. That was a bit of information she wished she’d known earlier, though with a new moon above it wouldn’t have helped her or the others.

  “Do you have a way of knowing if my friends are okay?”

  Whimsy nodded. “Is that your wish?”

  Ros bit the inside of her cheek for a moment before answering, “No.”

  The Moonchild smiled. “Typical human. When you only get one wish, why waste it on something trivial, like the safety of others? So, what will you have, milady? Riches? Power? Or something sweeter, like, true love? Don’t bother asking for a thousand wishes or someone to return from the dead—all magic has limits.”