“I would still be bound by contract to marry him, regardless of his location. And without your magic we are unable to get to the other world anyway, regardless of what miraculous wonders it may hold, be it coffee or a solution to my problem.”
Memory stopped searching and sat on the side of the bed, looking up at Eloryn. “What if you do go through with the marriage, and then get a divorce right after? Would that satisfy the contract?”
“A divorce?”
Her sister explained the concept to her. Apparently it was more common in her world than marriages that lasted.
“Happily ever afters aren’t really a thing where I come from,” Memory said.
“That would be a very big change for Avall in order to solve my problem.”
“Meh, it should be allowed anyway. Even in the rest of the world I’m pretty sure divorce becoming legal was always because of some king or another wanting to do it themselves.”
Eloryn nodded, a small spark of hope lighting in her then extinguishing just as fast. “It may be a solution, but it’s not the sort of law change we could rush through. Nor are the other changes regarding women’s rights. I will still be married to Hayes for some time.”
“And any amount of time is too much time, I know.” Memory leant back on her elbows, staring around the room as though it held answers. She pointed at the wall behind Eloryn.
“That’s Thayl’s sister,” she said. “I saw her once before, in a dream.”
Eloryn turned and looked at the large portrait on the wall. The girl looked about twelve years old and her rose red lips were highlighted by her pale skin and thick, ebony hair. She smiled like she’d just seen a rainbow for the first time.
Eloryn’s heart sank like a sack of stones into black water. Memory had explained what happened to the child at just sixteen years of age. She’d been lost to sacrifice in Providence’s dark ritual.
“She was so pretty,” Memory said, looking as grim as Eloryn felt. “I can almost see some of her in you. In us, I guess.”
“We do not know for sure she is family,” Eloryn said.
Memory opened her mouth but Eloryn spoke first. “If you want to know, if you truly feel the need to know for sure, there are magical ways we could use to discover whether Thayl was our father. But I don't feel the need. Since learning the rumor about Loredanna not consummating her marriage, I see more and more a resemblance to Thayl in our features. I know he was special to our mother, and I know he was to you, too, in a way. Knowing all I know now, I don't hate the thought of him being our father. But nor do I wish to embrace it. Alward was my father in all ways that mattered, and I cannot forget that it was Thayl who killed him.”
Memory had turned away so Eloryn couldn’t see her face. “I thought I was a fool for wanting a father figure in my life so desperately that I turned to Thayl. You had Alward, who sounds like he rocked the father role. I had no one. Either of the men who could have been our father is just as tragic really, Thayl or Edmund. I think I also prefer not to know for sure. I know Thayl made mistakes, but at least I knew him, for a while. It would hurt too much for both of us, I think, to know for sure he was our father, or to know he wasn’t. Maybe sometimes it’s best to just leave things at maybe.”
With a shake of her head, Memory stood up and ran her hands around the gilt frame holding the life-sized portrait of Thayl’s sister. “Help me lift this down.”
Eloryn took hold of the other side, and together they hefted the thick framed canvas from the wall.
Eloryn looked at the space on the wall the painting came from. “Nothing behind the painting.”
Memory pried the backing board off the frame and then pouted. “Nothing, damn it. People always hide things in frames in the movies.”
“Movies?”
Memory shook her head. “Oh sister dearest, I have so much to catch you up on.”
Eloryn grinned and went over to the cluttered desk.
“What’s this?” she said, lifting up a small box, wrapped like a present with a small envelope on top. She opened the note and read it.
More as requested. Use them well. I grow impatient.
Memory had come over to look over her shoulder. “See? You do have super detective powers.”
Eloryn rolled her eyes as she pried at the lid. The box opened with a snap and revealed a row of neatly laid out darts inside.
Eloryn reached to her neck. “Those are the same sort of darts the Wizard Hunters used to block the Spark of Connection.”
“That’s weird.” Memory pried one out and held it near her eye, examining it. “They look like iron. It makes no sense that iron would stop magic from working.”
As though to demonstrate the point, Memory pulled out her knife from a neat pocket in the waist band of her new outfit that looked made just for it. The way it was concealed there made Eloryn think it had been inspired by how Roen used to carry his fine electrum sword.
When she held the two pieces of metal together, the small dart wriggled from Memory’s fingers with a life of its own and flung itself at the nearby blade.
Eloryn gasped.
“Magnetized?” Memory said. “More sense being made now. Hey, can I try something?”
Memory got a wicked look in her eye, and before Eloryn could reply, Memory jabbed her in the shoulder with the dart. It pricked lightly through her skin and wooziness rushed through Eloryn as her Spark of Connection closed down.
“Mem!” Eloryn clutched her sister’s arm for support and Memory helped ease her down to sit on the bed. “Some warning would have been nice. And you better have a good excuse for doing that.”
“Warning takes away all the fun,” Memory said, her eyebrows wriggling cheekily. “We are pretty sure normal iron draws magic into humans. And it looks like magnetized iron draws it out, like the change in polarity affects the way it funnels magic. It’s just drawing magic out of you, right? So maybe the Spark of Connection is just a small bit of magic that’s been put inside each human.”
“It matches existing theory on the subject, yes. And it’s a small bit of magic I would like back now please.” Eloryn reached to collect the arrow-head she now carried in her purse, but Memory grabbed her hand.
“Wait, we haven’t gotten to what I want to try yet. We already know that holding iron can re-start the spark. I want to try giving you some of the magic in me. I won’t be casting anything, just sharing.”
Eloryn frowned. “It sounds a little too close for comfort to me. You must be mindful of your oath.”
“Oh shush. There’s no behest for this, and it’s behests I’m not allowed to do. It’s just a little involuntary overflow.”
Memory held her palms up in front of Eloryn’s chest. “Okay. Now make me angry.”
Eloryn laughed. “How shall I make you angry?”
“Tell me more about Hayes’s scumbucketry, or Avall’s women’s rights issues, or the vampires stealing my friends, or talk about Mina, or…”
A glow flashed between them and Eloryn felt her spark re-open.
“It worked,” she said, a little breathless.
Memory’s face was closed for a moment as she breathed out an angry pant, then she shrugged and smiled. “And no fairy army banging down the door demanding my head. So we’re all good.”
“You really aren’t fond of Mina, are you?” Eloryn asked.
A frown reappeared quickly on Memory. “She’s only the most awful girlfriend ever, or whatever she is or was to Will.”
Eloryn hesitated. She had grown increasingly worried about Will’s situation with the fae the more she got to know him. For all she’d read about how the fae can claim human children or partners, Will seemed to fit that description. It was only the amount of freedom she’d seen him have that made her believe it wasn’t true. Most humans claimed by the fae are taken to their world and kept there, or so the stories went. Like Lugh. Perhaps Will was simply friends with Mina and the sprites, and until Eloryn knew better, she decided it wasn’t worth worrying Memo
ry about.
“Still, we’ve not found any more clues regarding Providence. These darts are made to target human wizards, not the fae,” Eloryn said. She held the dart up to the light of the nearby window to examine it. “Do you think magnetized iron would be safe for fae?”
“Clueless. Why?”
“Because these are also engraved with runes, the same old type of magic that Providence used on you and on Thayl’s hand,” Eloryn said, placing the dart back in the box and closing it up. “I’m guessing this little gift came from her, trying to hasten the death of the Wizards’ Council so Thayl’s debt would come due.”
Memory rubbed her temples. “Makes sense. I just need to know what the hell Providence wanted.”
Eloryn looked around the room again. Thayl hadn’t been a well-organized man. Every surface and shelf was overcrowded and cluttered. There must be more in here to help us, but where to start?
“You told me once I needed to be more inventive with my magic. I need to start experimenting some more, correct?” Eloryn said.
“And I will live vicariously through you as you do,” Memory agreed.
Eloryn nodded, and began speaking in the magic language. “Reveal to me, anything of Providence. Anything of Thayl’s relationship to Providence. Make yourself seen.”
The box of darts on the desk gave a small rattle and then glowed a rich golden light. Beside it, three books down in a stack, a thin ledger book shimmered briefly too.
Memory pulled the book from the stack, letting the rest of the tower collapse behind it. “I was wrong. Sherlock’s got nothing on you.”
Eloryn tsked and carefully picked the fallen books back up. She loved any books too dearly to see them dumped onto the floor.
Both girls stood shoulder to shoulder as Memory began flicking through the loosely bound documents. They appeared to be letters, from someone who signed only with a rough X, outlining expenses to be paid and the development of missions they were undergoing for Thayl.
“And this is?” Memory asked.
“Maybe my behest failed.”
Memory stopped flicking, and started leafing back the pages. “No, I’d say you didn’t fail at all.” Memory pointed to a sketch of a long hooked tool.
“That’s the same thingamabob Roen brought up from the iron stash.”
“It’s a leatherworker’s awl,” Eloryn said. She took the ledger and began flicking ahead again. They soon found details of other iron items they’d seen in the depths of the castle. Eloryn skimmed the handwriting throughout, drawing in all the details she could.
“Thayl was hiring this person to collect iron for him. He even gave the hunter leads, told him to seek out wizards in hiding, or anyone seen as being powerful with magic. Thayl must have worked that part out when he first began hunting wizards. He also provided this hunter and his men with the spark-closing darts and… Oh.”
Eloryn put the letters down on the desk and stared straight ahead, trying to calm the shudders that racked her frame.
“What is it?” Memory asked.
Eloryn took a deep breath. “It mentions the hunter’s dragon. The last letter says the hunters were going to the mountains west of Maerranton following reports of a man seen there matching Alward’s appearance. They were the ones who chased us. Led by the man with the lion’s hair and scarred face. All this time I had believed I was the cause of our discovery, that it was my folly that brought the hunters to Alward and me.” Eloryn shook her head.
Memory put an arm over Eloryn’s shoulder and squeezed. “Why is it always the good people who blame themselves for what bad people do?”
Eloryn put an arm around her sister as well. After another deep breath, she felt lighter than she had for months. “So now we know they were hunting for iron as well as for wizards. And delivering it to Thayl, who hoarded the artifacts in the palace depths.”
“Not all of the iron down there was from him, though,” Memory said. “Will said the fae didn’t go there even before Thayl. Hundreds of years at least. But there’s the interesting thing. Even if Thayl didn’t put all the iron down near the lake, we know for sure he added to what was there, and that he was actively seeking more iron. He might have done exactly what I did, find a place the fae didn’t go in order to store more iron there. Even if he was using it to recharge his magic, he didn’t need so much, and yet he kept seeking more and more.” Like an unconscious action, Memory drew her own iron knife again. Her expression was chilling. “There’s only one other value in hoarding iron that I can think of.”
Eloryn looked at the knife in Memory’s hand, remembering the searing effect it had on a banshee’s skin. “Defense against the fae. But to want so much, it wouldn’t have been just for himself. There’s iron enough there to fight a battle.”
Memory looked grimly at her sister. “What if Thayl knew what Providence was? What if he had some idea of what she was going to ask of him to repay his debt? What if the iron was to prepare for that?”
Eloryn’s voice was quiet. “A war with the fae?”
Memory shrugged and pinched the bridge of her nose. “But if Providence is a fae, and presumably a dark fae, why would she want to make a human start a war? Why not just do it herself somehow?”
“You’ve said Hope was always trying to turn you against the unseelie fae.”
Memory muttered an interruption. “Not that I need much turning.”
Eloryn’s head tilted. “There is some great animosity between the seelie and unseelie courts. Perhaps Providence was actually a seelie fae, planning to have humankind and unseelie set at war?”
“Maybe? I don’t know. But why else? Unless for some reason Thayl thought he needed that much just to deal with Providence alone.” Memory threw her hands up in the air. “Thanks for nothing, Thayl’s room.”
Eloryn collected up the ledger and box of darts. “We know more now than we did before. These were important clues. We will work it out.”
Memory groaned. “Okay, okay. Trying to be optimistic. Will is still trying to get some more info about Providence from Mina and the sprites. He’s got her interested in it now. Says she’s keen to gossip about it, so we’ll see what there is when he comes back.”
“Roen and Peirs may find something also. I hope they will all be back soon.”
Memory smiled in a way that did not disguise her worry. Eloryn knew that her own expression must be a mirror image.
Chapter Seven
The heavy rain from earlier in the day had ceased, but had left the ground thick with mud that clung greedily to each footstep. Clouds still covered the sky and the moon glowed through the mist like an ominous ghost of the sun.
Roen and Peirs stood together just outside of the pool of light cast by a streetlamp. They chatted quietly and casually, observing the people around them, before moving on to their next location. For three nights they had done the same thing, loitering outside of taverns and inns, wandering through the pebbled streets until the early hours of the morning. During the days they sought out Peirs’s contacts and questioned people on the street for clues.
Peirs sighed and tilted his head, indicating to Roen it was time to move on. There were a few taverns around Caermaellan that the fae frequented, and they had been watching Myrddin’s Cup that evening.
“We’ll find something soon,” Roen said.
Peirs snorted wryly. “We better.”
They had the exact same exchange every time they moved on in their search. Roen could see the lines of stress etched around Peirs’s eyes and tight lips, as though every day they didn’t find the stolen children, Peirs felt another child die in his heart. Roen grabbed Peirs’s arm and pulled him to a stop.
“We will find them,” Roen said, putting every ounce of hope and sincerity into his words that he could.
Peirs shrugged, gazing up and down the street as though looking for answers. “Should we be doing this differently? Should I be sending guards to knock down every door in the city? I’m open to all suggestions.”
<
br /> “If I learned anything in my time as a…” Roen still hesitated to say it, but forced the word though. “…thief, it’s that when seeking something precious, it’s often best to do it quietly.”
Peirs ran a hand through his hair. “I just can’t think straight. Don’t know if any decision I’m making is the right one.” He closed his roaming eyes for a moment then looked at Roen. “You know, I was probably the age you are now when Thayl first took the throne as he did. I was no noble, didn’t have much of a say in the whole affair, but it still made me angry. Angry enough to act. I never meant to be the leader of the resistance, but it sort of just happened.” Peirs sighed and his breath formed a cloud, hanging in the icy air between them. “It’s funny how we end up where we end up. Now a slip of a girl is our queen, and made me captain of her guard. I know some don’t believe in Memory, but I have from the start. I could see it right away, something special about her. By the fae, she’s still a child, but she sure is an extraordinary one. I’m just some nobody desperately terrified of letting her down.”
“I know you’ve made her proud so far. She thinks of you as family.”
“As she does every one of the children we still need to find.” Peirs hung his head, his face hidden in the shadow as he began walking again.
As Roen turned away to follow Peirs to their next tavern, he finally caught sight of their target. A pair of gaunts, tall and gangly, squelched through the mud toward the entrance of the inn. They walked boldly as though they had little care of being seen. The suits they wore were threadbare and grayed, the fabric of the pants shredded to the knees, but one had a new bright red handkerchief in its breast pocket that stood out like an open wound.
“There, see? What did I tell you?” Roen said, calling Peirs’s attention back.
Peirs blinked as though not believing it. “Now I guess we wait and see if they try to take someone.”
“Not at all.” Roen grinned. “Now, we track them.”
Roen quietly led Peirs across the street to where the gaunts had passed by, and pointed to their elongated footprints in the mud, each one a pool filled with murky water.
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