The Diminished

by Kaitlyn Sage Patterson

  “How did you connect Vi to the temple?” he asked.

  “I’ve told you the truth. I’m her brother. I just want to see her safe. If I can find the people who bought her, maybe I can offer them enough to buy out the rest of her contract. See her well and truly safe.”

  “Are the Shriven really looking for your sister?”

  I let out my breath in a slow exhalation. “They are. I don’t know how much they know, or how soon they’ll find her, but you know as well as I that the Shriven don’t fail when they have someone in their sights.” I hesitated, then hurriedly said, “I’d see you well compensated for your help.”

  “We’ll find a way to do this so as your business isn’t affected. If you agree, that is,” Swinton added.

  Quill nodded his head slowly. “We’ll help. Not for the money—I wouldn’t see her in the hands of the Shriven. But you’ll need quite a sum to buy her contract off the people who hired her, and even still, it might not be an easy thing. Her contract’s meant as a birthday gift, and you’ll have a far better chance of convincing them if we manage to negotiate before the celebration. You’ll need cash in hand in less than two weeks’ time.”

  “Can we get to Southill and back in that time?” I asked Swinton.

  “We’ll have to make tracks, but we can do it.”

  I ran a hand through my hair and nodded at Quill gratefully. “Thank you for your help.”

  “You’re welcome. But, Mr. Abernathy, if you make one wrong move—if I for one moment think you don’t have her best interest at heart—I’ll make it my business to find out the truth about the cuff you wear.”

  I froze, taken aback. I didn’t think he’d seen it.

  “You look like her, you know,” Quill said, suddenly amiable. “The same eyes, the same blushes, the same hair. She even has that same tic you do—ruffles her hair so it stands on end when she’s anxious.”

  I compressed my lips and waited, feeling the heat of a blush curl up my neck.

  “It isn’t that Mal’s callous. I think he’s just mad we got her into this position in the first place. I’ll bring him around to the idea. Just give us a bit of time to plan. We can’t trot you onto the estate, visitors for the servants being frowned upon and all, but with a little luck, I might be able to sneak you in to see Vi. You’ll want to see her and let her know the plan, yes?”

  My heart leapt at the thought of seeing Vi for the first time, and my voice shook as I replied. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

  Quill eyed my wrist pointedly. “I believe you. It looks like you have a lot to lose.”

  Quill clapped both Swinton and me on the shoulder and headed back into the house. Before the door was fully shut, I flung myself into Swinton’s arms. Laughing, he hugged me tight and released me, skipping down the porch’s steps.

  “I do believe you owe me a drink, little lord,” he said. “A drink, and a raise. I’ll play along with this little farce of yours as long as you like, but I’ll get the truth from you at some point.”

  I wanted to tell him everything in that moment. The truth about Vi, the Queen, every secret I’d held so carefully guarded since I left my house in Esser Park. But I forced myself to hold my tongue, at least for a little longer.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  VI

  Sweat slicked every inch of my body and dripped, stinging, into my eyes. The sun had only just risen, but the blasted sunbeams were already beating relentlessly down on me, burning my once-pale, freckled skin and heating my dark curls past bearing. All I wanted was to be off Beetle’s jostling back, to let go of the reins and lift my heavy braid off my neck, to stick my whole head in a bucket of cool water. Instead, I did my best to focus on staying in the saddle and making at least some of the seemingly endless corrections Myrna shouted at me from the back of her delicate chestnut mare.

  “Shoulders back,” Myrna called, the reminder a familiar refrain. “Heels down.”

  I obliged, my breath ragged and heaving. It was beyond understanding that I could hold my breath for minutes at a time comfortably beneath the cold Alskad waves, but here in Ilor, each hot, wet breath I managed to pull into my lungs came with a fight. Despite Myrna’s assurances, I didn’t think a body could ever get used to this kind of humidity. Not really.

  After one more jolting trot around the flat field, Myrna slowed her mare to a walk, and I, gratefully, did the same. Reins in one hand, I lifted my heavy braid off my neck with the other.

  “You’re getting better,” Myrna said. “Now all you need to do is stop being so terribly scared.”

  I laughed. “I’d hardly say I’m scared. Just sensible. I’m a tiny scrap of a thing compared to Beetle here, yet somehow, I’m to convince her that I’m in charge? Seems unlikely at best and right stupid at worst.”

  Myrna laughed, and we rode toward the barn in companionable silence for a few minutes before she drew her horse to a halt. She peered down the hill. “What’s that, then?” she asked. “A bit early for deliveries, wouldn’t you say?”

  I followed her gaze down the hill to the drive, where a wagon loaded with casks and trunks was winding its way toward the manor house. Two figures sat on the back of the wagon’s bed, their feet dangling off the end, and two more on the wagon’s seat. They were still a bit too far away for me to make out more than their shapes, and it would take them a couple of minutes or so at least to get to the barn at the pace they were going.

  I wiped the sweat from my brow and looked at Myrna. “Think we ought to go down and lend a hand?” I asked.

  “You’re just looking for an excuse to cut your lesson short,” Myrna said with a cackle. “All right, then. We’ll go on down, but if you want me to go easy on you, you’ll have to beat me there.”

  Without another word, Myrna urged her horse into a gallop and went flying down the path. I gritted my teeth, tapped Beetle’s sides with my heels and gave the little mare her head. Beetle took off after Myrna’s chestnut. I clung to the reins and her mane and pushed my weight into my heels, holding on for all I was worth. By the time Beetle skidded to a halt outside the barn, my sides were heaving nearly as hard as hers, but Myrna had already dismounted and loosened her horse’s girth.

  “I’d no idea the beast could move that fast,” I gasped.

  Myrna gave me a sardonic look. “Hates being left behind, that one.” She hefted the saddle and blanket off her horse in one swift movement and set it on a rack. “Now you hop off so we can get these horses wiped down and turned out before our visitors get here.”

  I’d just managed to get Beetle settled and eased myself, aching muscles screaming, down onto a stool when the creak of wagon wheels and hooves came to a stop outside the barn.

  Myrna smacked me lightly with a crop as she streaked past. “Up you get. There’re horses to tend.” She paused and turned back to look at me. “Not even noon, and you’re soaked through. How does a person so fair turn so very red?”

  Groaning, I heaved myself to my feet and trudged after Myrna, muttering curses. I stopped at one of the water buckets hanging by the door to splash cool water on my face. When I looked up again, I found her beaming at me expectantly.

  “What?” I asked. “What is it?”

  “Come see for yourself,” Myrna said.

  Sunlight silhouetted the figures in the barn door, and it wasn’t until I stepped outside and shaded my eyes that I saw who our visitors were. I whooped with surprise and joy and sprinted toward them. Mal turned in time to catch me in his arms, and a moment later I felt Quill wrap himself around us, too, joining our happy embrace. I breathed in the smell of salt air and pine-scented soap and their own clean sweat, fighting back the tears that threatened to cascade down my cheeks. After bearing so much sorrow in the wake of learning about Sawny’s and Lily’s deaths, I was beyond grateful to seek comfort in their arms.

  A cough behind us reminded me
that we weren’t alone, and I quickly let go of the twins. Quill kept hold of my shoulders and held me at arm’s length, looking at me.

  “Are you well, Vi?” he asked. “Happy enough? Eating enough? You look thin.”

  I crushed him into another hug. “I’ve gotten some bad news, but I’ll do. Don’t worry yourself. I’m so happy to see you.”

  “It would seem our Vi has lost hold of her manners entirely,” Myrna said. “I met your brother before, but I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Myrna.”

  Suddenly, I remembered the other two people in the wagon and broke away from the Whipplestons, my smile only slightly abashed. One man was occupied with unhitching the horses from the wagon. The other, a slouch hat pulled low on his brow, sifted through the wagon bed.

  Quill nodded to Myrna. I spotted a tiny, mischievous twitch at the corner of his mouth and eyed him carefully. “Lovely to meet you. Our companions unloading the wagon there are called Swinton and Bo. Think you might offer us a place to cool off and wait? Mal’s got some business to attend to in the manor house.”

  “I have some work I’ve got to see finished. But Vi doesn’t really have anything in the way of duties. She can entertain you while you wait. It’s hotter than an oven out here.” Myrna winked at me. “She’s as red as I’ve ever seen a body, and that fellow there doesn’t look much better. Take them inside and give them something to drink, will you, Vi?”

  Glowing with excitement over seeing Mal and Quill again, I said, “I suppose I wouldn’t mind that.” I turned to Mal. “Will you come say goodbye before you leave?”

  “Of course.” Mal gave my hand a squeeze and went to the wagon, where he took a box from the man in the bed with a terse nod. Quill, arm still wrapped around my waist, was beaming down at me. My cheeks hurt from grinning.

  “Not your beau?” Myrna asked.

  I shot her a baleful look and slid out of Quill’s arms with an apologetic smile. Myrna’s laughter rang out through the morning air.

  Shaking my head, I led the young men into my rooms.

  “Sit, eat,” I said, gesturing vaguely at the table, where some leftovers from breakfast still lay. My hands shook and sweat beaded my forehead, despite the cool breeze of the ceiling fans. I’d no idea what’d come over me. I needed to breathe. I needed to be alone.

  I headed for the washroom, thinking I’d splash more water on my face. “I won’t be but a minute.”

  I noticed Quill’s odd expression just before he caught my arm. “Vi, wait.” Inexplicably irritated, I glared at him and tried to jerk my arm free, but his grip was too strong. “We want to keep this quiet. There isn’t much time.”

  “Time for what? Keep what quiet?” Anxious energy flooded through me like ice water.

  “I’ve brought your half brother here to meet you. Let me introduce you.”

  His words sounded like gibberish. I didn’t have a half brother. What was he talking about? I took a quick step away, suddenly feeling faint.

  “Vi, wait.”

  Something in that voice stopped me in my tracks. It was familiar. Comforting. A sound I’d been waiting for my whole life without ever knowing I’d been missing it.

  “My name is Bo. My father was your father.”

  The floor creaked and wheezed as Quill moved away from me. I knew I’d have to turn around eventually, but the pounding in my chest and the nonsense racing through my head would have to slow down before I was ready to face whatever reality stood behind me. I exhaled, long and slow.

  “Vi, will you look at me? Please?”

  A hand touched my shoulder tentatively. I whirled around and found myself looking into gray eyes achingly like mine. I swayed and went cold. He—Bo—took my arms and guided me gently into a chair. He knelt in front of me, put his hands on my knees and smiled a shy, blushing, familiar smile.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve come a long way to find you.”

  I grasped for something to say, but there was only one word in my head. A single word spinning, gaining speed like a wave flying toward the shore, threatening to drown me.

  Twin. Twin, twin, twin. TWIN.

  “Dammal Traegar’s your da, too?” I sputtered.

  Bo shook his head. “It makes sense that your mother would have hidden it, him being married and all, but no, Dammal Traegar isn’t my father. Nor is he yours. My father had an affair with your mother before she ever married, when she worked on my family estate.”

  My mind raced in circles around my memories, conjuring moments with my da. It was like someone was telling me the moon had never split when I’d seen its halves dancing across the sky every night of my life.

  This was absurd. I pushed Bo’s hands off my legs, glaring. The honesty, the sincerity, the love came off him in waves, and fury blossomed through my veins. I didn’t want to believe him. I didn’t even want to be near him.

  “What proof do you have?” I asked.

  “Have you never looked in the mirror, bully?” The other man, the beautiful one who must be Swinton, said. “You’re as alike as twins. Your father’s blood must’ve been right strong to stamp you both so.”

  I took in the lovely cloth and careful tailoring of his shirt and trousers, his fine leather boots. The quiet, regal confidence of his gestures. Bo’s life had been easy, comfortable. He oozed a sense that people would go out of their way to take care of him. Every jeer, every dirty look, every bloody nose and bruise of my childhood welled in the banks of my memory and threatened to pour out in waves of tears.

  I surged to my feet, knocking him out of the way. “I don’t know what kind of cruel game you’re playing, but I want you out. All of you. Get out.” I pointed to the door. “Get. Out.”

  Swinton and Quill stood frozen. I scowled at them.

  “Vi. Just listen...” Bo scrambled to his feet, but held his ground.

  I shoved him toward the door, but he loomed over me, and his lean ropes of muscle made him as immovable as a boulder. My body shook, hot with rage. It was an uncontrollable force, rising like fire through my veins. Bo clenched his jaw and scrubbed his hands through his hair. The gesture was so familiar, so my own, that it knocked the breath from my lungs. The anger washed out of me as fast as it had ignited.

  I studied him carefully. His nose was the nose I would’ve had if mine hadn’t been broken so many times. His dark curls matched my own. The square line of his jaw was stubbled with the promise of a beard, but the wide, full mouth looked as right on his face as it did on mine. I read a range of emotion in his gray eyes that hadn’t touched my own in time beyond remembering.

  Twin, I thought again.

  I sank back into the chair, my head spinning. Bo pulled another chair out from the table and settled himself in front of me.

  “How?” I heard myself ask.

  The story he told was something out of a tragic novel. My ma, a young maid, caught between a cold, guarded mistress and a sad, lonely master, both desperate for a child and distanced by repeated loss. A moment of tenderness and sympathy that got a set of twins on her just before the mistress fell pregnant herself. Ma’d been whisked away to the city to avoid a scandal, but Bo’s father—my father—had remembered us, Prudence and I, in his will.

  As Bo spoke, the still water of my own history whirled and muddied. Something in his story felt wrong, and though I pushed it away each time it rose up, that one word kept ringing in my head. Twin.

  “What was he like?” I asked. “Your father?”

  “Our father.” Bo smiled, a sad, longing smile. “He loved to read. He was funny. Silly. Mother was always scolding him for not behaving properly in front of the servants. He swam, even in the dead of winter. It was like he was impervious to the cold. He was the best horseman I’ve ever met.”

  Ma’s decision to give me to the temple throbbed like a scar newly reopened, and my heart ached, realizing that t
he man I’d thought was my father, who’d visited and defended me even when Ma wouldn’t come near me—the only one of my relations who’d ever cared a whit for me—wasn’t even blood kin. I hadn’t given him more than a passing thought since setting foot in Ilor, but now, sitting with Bo, I yearned for my da.

  I shook my head and bit my lip, trying everything in my power to stave off the furious disbelief that threatened to drown me. I couldn’t stop looking at my hands. They looked so strange, as if my body, my whole life didn’t really belong to me.

  Bo put a tentative hand over mine. “It’s a lot to take in, but we don’t have much time. There are other things we should talk about, Vi.”

  It was then that I noticed it. The sadness in his eyes. An ache that was at once mine and not mine.

  “I’ve got money. Our father was very wealthy, and my mother’s work increased that wealth exponentially. It’s all mine now. I can bring you back to Alskad, set you up in a house there.”

  I gaped at him, tempted, for a moment, by the idea of running away from Phineas. But I couldn’t think of Phineas without remembering what he’d done to Sawny and Lily, and I steeled myself against the idea. I would see him pay for his violence, for the murder he’d done, no matter the cost to me. “Oh. Our father was wealthy, and now you can rip me out of a life I chose and whisk me away? Play the hero? That’s it, is it? If it was our father’s money, then what he left me is mine and mine alone. I can take care of myself.”

  “I only meant...” he spluttered. “I told Mal and Quill I came to the colonies to give you the money. I thought it would be easier if...”

  “Your life has been nothing but finery and flowers, and mine’s been shit and scars.” I spat the words at him, hoping he’d feel the sting of my hurt. “All you know is easy. You haven’t got the foggiest clue about right.”