Relic

by Bronwyn Eley

  I knew who was on the other side, waiting to meet me.

  A look from Thorn was enough to get my heavy feet scraping forward. The guards opened the doors, struggling with the weight, and we entered the room.

  A wave of heat hit me; had it not been for Thorn, I would have been driven back. The heat reminded me of the smithy I suddenly longed for, of Tosh’s mood swings and Liem’s doltish grin. What a dream it all seemed to me now, and yet my shift at the smithy had only ended a few hours ago. My last shift. My last word to Liem was no. I didn’t even say goodbye to Tosh or the others, believing I would see them tomorrow.

  Despite the size of the hall, it was surprisingly plain. Simple paintings of grand men and women seemed to judge me as I was dragged under their feet. With a fireplace on either side, it was no surprise that I began to sweat.

  My eyes sought out every small feature of the room, unwilling to look at the blurred figure ahead as I was brought to a stop.

  And then I could feel him.

  No, not him.

  The Relic.

  Despite the stillness of the room, a wave of air passed over me. Air alive with flames. My skin seared at its touch. All of it, from my toes to my eyelids, as if on fire. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to be rid of the horrid feeling. It reminded me of embers falling on my arms in the smithy. It was a reflex to swat them away; I never really had to think twice about it. But there was nothing I could do to remove this, nothing but distance – and that was no longer an option.

  I could sense him there, so still, watching me. And out of the corner of my eye – a glimmer of yellow stone. With one last slow, deep breath, I raised my head and looked into Lord Rennard’s eyes.

  They were the colour of rich bark, warmed with deep orange. They could have been warm and inviting were it not for the harsh slant of his eyebrows, as if he were trying to deny any weakness by hiding his kind eyes. His dirt-brown hair was neatly folded back, slightly damp and tucked behind his ears. His skin was fresh and clean, a lighter brown than many of the citizens of his city, as if he hadn’t spent enough time under the burning sun.

  I found myself bowing instinctively.

  ‘Kaylan, I presume?’ His voice was soft, but I felt the strength behind it. Every word laced with superiority. Every word a command.

  ‘Yes, my lord.’ My response was barely a whisper, but I knew he heard me when he nodded, leaning back into the deep red cushions of his chair, its spires curling the way plants did. The seat, strategically placed on a raised platform, had him looking down on me.

  ‘Captain Thorn tells me you have a mother and three younger brothers.’

  My mind was drawn back to my house. What had happened after the door closed behind me?

  ‘Lord Rennard asked you a question,’ Thorn growled from somewhere behind me. I knew he was close. I didn’t dare look at him, and even when it occurred to me that he would be feeling the same pain as me, I didn’t care.

  ‘I do, my lord.’ I noticed how obviously my hands were shaking and pressed them into my sides.

  ‘They will be well taken care of while you are here with us, Kaylan.’ Lord Rennard kept his voice low. He almost sounded bored. How many times had he said these things? Did he care for any of them? Us. I began counting them in my head, all the ones I could remember. Sten, Les, Fiora –

  Kaylan.

  Thorn shifted closer to me and I brought my downcast eyes up to meet Lord Rennard’s. His silence confused me at first, but there was no mistaking the look of superiority in his eyes. He was going to take care of my family, as he always did. My wages would go to them because I had no need for the money. He would pay them for their loss, and it was a generous thing for him to do, wasn’t it? To pay for the life he was taking. He didn’t have to. He could just take, but instead he bought.

  Futility swallowed my resolve. ‘Thank you, my lord.’

  Thank you, my lord.

  His smile mocked me as he continued his welcome. ‘Captain Thorn is Head of the Guard. Apart from you, he is my right-hand man.’

  I’m not your right-hand anything. I’m your Shadow.

  ‘Captain Thorn will take you to meet Lirr; she will tell you everything you need to know about your time with us. Your family will receive payments as of today – I assure you they will live quite comfortably.’

  I brought a hand up to my pounding head. The pain wasn’t there a second ago, but suddenly it gathered around my eyes, making them heavy. I glanced at the thick, beaded chain around his neck.

  The Relic was merely a small yellow stone, rather insignificant-looking, but Lord Rennard had dressed it up in his family’s emblem. The jewel was encased in a large silver eagle, its wings stretched out as if taking flight, its claws grasping the stone from behind.

  Relic.

  I hadn’t said the word out loud since I was a child, but I had thought about it. Everyone did. Of course we were taught about it at school. The origins of the Relics – the only known sources of magic – and those lucky few who had found them during the Surge, or those who took them later by force. With desperation taking hold of so many people, lives were destroyed. Bodies littered the countryside, people crawling over the top of one another to get to the stones first. There were only five, after all, and too many desperate and greedy people.

  When Lord Rennard saw where my attention had landed, a smile touched his lips. He placed a light touch on the jewel. The top of his shirt was unbuttoned, likely so everyone could see it.

  ‘You’re adjusting to the change,’ he mused. I focused on the fire inside my skull. Was it the Relic making me feel this way, or was it my body finally succumbing to the panic of what was happening? Eventually, I would feel the full effects of the Relic.

  Slowly at first, and then ... not so slow.

  At least, that was what I had heard. Everybody knew the Relics were loyal only to those of the bloodline. I was not a part of Lord Rennard’s bloodline. I was just another threat to be dealt with. There was no controlling that part of the Relic. Even Lord Rennard couldn’t stop it from doing what it did so well.

  ‘I am looking forward to getting to know you,’ he said, sitting back. ‘We will be spending a lot of time together. I always ask my servants to be honest and answer any questions I might ask, no matter how personal. Do you think you can do that for me?’

  I paused at his question, unsure why he would want to know anything about me. I would be dead soon enough. A toy he would soon break. Still, I found myself nodding. There was no other choice.

  No, thanks, Lord Rennard, I prefer to keep to myself. Besides, I don’t fancy making small talk with the man who is slowly killing me. But I really appreciate the interest.

  Just like that, it was over. Thorn took hold of my arm again and led me away from Lord Rennard.

  I had survived my first encounter. Though somehow I knew it was likely the easiest of them all.

  From here, it would just get harder.

  I contemplated the likeliness of this just being a nightmare. Perhaps I was lying unconscious on the streets or asleep in my bed. But as the pain in my head faded the further away I got from Rennard, I knew this was real. My breath shuddered out of me.

  There was little point in denying it. Soon enough, the power he wore around his neck would rip through my body, and I would become just another name on that list of forgotten souls.

  Chapter 4

  Thorn dragged me through more corridors, finally releasing me before a small door. Its strong timber trembled under his rough touch.

  I would hate to be his wife.

  When the door opened, an unimpressed face answered. She was as tall as Thorn, but slighter and much more attractive. Her black hair fell neatly beside her angular face, her skin a few shades darker than mine. Thin yet muscular arms rested possessively on either side of the door frame. Her eyes flicked to me before casting a less-than-impressed look in Thorn’s direction.

  ‘Let’s not prolong the misery,’ she snapped. ‘Just leave the girl with m
e and go back to your hole.’

  Thorn grunted. ‘Lord Rennard expects you –’

  ‘I’ve known Lord Rennard as long as you have,’ she interrupted. ‘I know what he wants.’ I watched the exchange, silently cheering for this fearless woman with the powerful glare. ‘Leave us.’

  Thorn grabbed my tender arm and shoved me toward the woman. I stumbled to a stop just before I hit her. She didn’t move to touch me, only watched Thorn go. I waited until his heavy tread faded before turning to face her. Her expression had softened.

  ‘You’re young,’ was all she said as she moved aside, gesturing me into the room. It held a large desk, covered with papers and a plate of untouched food. The floor-to-ceiling window was closed, dust on the sill, staleness in the air.

  ‘I’m Lirr; I manage the Lord’s manor. What do I call you?’

  I told her my name. She kept her back to me.

  ‘And how old are you, Kaylan?’

  ‘I just turned nineteen.’

  ‘Well, I hope you make twenty.’ Lirr didn’t look away from her papers. I didn’t blame her. ‘Castle celebrations are unsurpassed.’

  ‘I would rather go home for my birthday,’ I said quietly – not that I honestly believed I would make it a year. Lirr turned to meet my eyes and shrugged after a moment.

  ‘No point worrying about it now. Let’s just see how you cope first.’

  ‘Does my age help?’ I wondered, remembering what that man on the street had said.

  She’s younger than the last one. Maybe she’ll last longer.

  Lirr leaned against her desk and crossed her arms and legs. I could tell she was trying to look relaxed, but strain gathered around her eyes in harsh creases.

  ‘It usually does. The younger you are, the healthier you are. Generally. Dealing with the pain and effects of the Relic should be easier for you.’

  The Relic.

  She didn’t even flinch when she said it. She had probably answered these questions a hundred times. The previous Shadow barely lasted a year, which was fast. Too fast, even considering his age. Maybe I did have a chance to see my next birthday. Kye’s wasn’t long before mine. Perhaps I could make it to then, at least.

  ‘I assume you already know a bit about the job, but I’ll explain it anyway,’ Lirr said, interrupting my wasted daydreams. ‘You will do everything for Lord Rennard. You will bring him his meals, which you fetch from the kitchen. You will clean his room, wash his clothes and care for his possessions. You will be with him throughout the day, unless he sends you to do something for him or dismisses you. You will accompany him on any errand he requests. You will care for his horse. Feed and groom her, as well as cleaning her stall in the stables. But if there are any serious issues with her, you’ll take her to see the Master of the Hunt. You will minimise how many other people have to be around him and that Relic, do you understand? And –’ She hesitated. ‘He may want your companionship, to some degree. So if he asks you questions about yourself, try your best to be as open and honest as you can.’

  I focused on breathing steadily. Lirr shot me a quick glance.

  ‘Now, you know you’re not to leave the castle grounds unless Lord Rennard gives you permission?’

  I nodded, vision blurring.

  ‘Even then, you won’t go alone.’

  ‘I know.’ My response came out in a pathetic wheeze, laced with a harsh undertone, unfairly directed at Lirr.

  ‘Don’t get upset,’ she scolded after a quiet sigh. ‘This is difficult, I understand. But think of your family, Kaylan. Their lives will improve with the money from this job.’

  A tear escaped my eye. With a curled fist, I whipped it away as quickly as I could.

  Improve.

  ‘Listen to me.’ Lirr’s voice dropped, as if imparting a dangerous secret. ‘The more you let it get to you, the quicker you’ll die.’

  She didn’t beat around the bush. I wasn’t sure if I liked that or not. At least I was getting some answers.

  ‘Stay strong and I swear you’ll make your next birthday. I’ve seen it work before.’

  ‘Seen what work?’

  She gave me a look as if I should already know. ‘Hope.’

  I choked out a laugh and shook my head.

  ‘Not a big believer in hope, I take it?’ she asked. ‘That’s alright. You’re certainly not the first.’

  She was different to Thorn. To Lord Rennard. To the nameless faces in the halls that avoided eye contact as I passed. She was sorry for me, that much I could tell, but she didn’t allow pity, not from either of us.

  I cleared my throat quietly. ‘Can I ask you a question?’

  ‘As many as you’d like.’

  The words tried to force themselves back down my throat, but I pushed them out. How could I say it? Could I even say it? Ask how. When. ‘How bad will it get?’

  She pressed her lips together. ‘Dying is never pleasant.’

  I watched her closely. Hoped for reassuring words. Words that never came.

  ‘How –’ I stopped short. Lirr raised her brow. ‘How did the others cope?’ Her eyes fell. ‘With the pain,’ I added quietly.

  She folded her arms. ‘Resting is important. As much as you can. The court Physician may be able to concoct something for pain relief. Lord Rennard will never use the magic against you directly, unless you’ve done something to earn such a punishment.’

  I cleared my throat again, now dry as dust. ‘Has that happened before?’

  Lirr hesitated. ‘Not for a long time. He understands what this job is. He’s a regimented man because of the way his father raised him, but he isn’t bad.’

  It sounded like a lot of justification for a man who wasn’t bad. Just the fact that he bought into the Shadow system said a lot about him. I had heard it wasn’t this way in every city, but maybe those were just rumours.

  Lord Rennard’s father was the one who introduced the idea of the Shadow, after all. It made sense that his son carried on the tradition. For nearly seventy years, a single member of the community had been chosen at random to be the Relic-bearer’s personal servant. When they started being referred to as Shadows, I wasn’t sure, but it certainly fit.

  With pleasantries out of the way, Lirr led me down the hall and to the left. We took some stairs down, deep into the castle as if it were swallowing us. The walls were bare down here. Less care had been taken to maintain the crumbling stone. Understandable, as no one of importance would ever come down here. This was the place for less-than-perfect things.

  As a familiar scent reached my nose, I realised where we were heading.

  Lirr led me into the kitchens, the air in the room simmering. I counted five men, one woman and one boy in the cramped room. Only the boy noticed us enter, lowering a knife nearly as long as his forearm. He jumped when the bearded man next to him spat unkind words, tucking his head down to resume work. Benches wrapped around the edge of the large room, all covered in the freshest produce from around the city. There was barely a bruised fruit or wilted vegetable in sight.

  Smoke from the fire drifted out wide windows, soiled with the room’s work. I glanced out to see dirt and grass patches, which meant we were at the base of the castle.

  Three of the men ignored us. The boy had stains on his hands, remnants of the vegetables he was hurriedly cutting. I could see his eyes flicking up any chance he could get through the unruly lengths of hair that covered his eyes. The final man approached us, wiping his hands on a red-stained apron.

  ‘Lord Rennard expects his meals at sunrise, midday and sunset. Every day at the same time, unless told otherwise,’ he said flatly.

  It was no use being offended by his lack of pleasantries. What was the point of getting to know the dying girl?

  ‘It should take you no more than five minutes to reach the dining hall from here, but make sure you arrive early if you want to have your meals too,’ he continued. I nodded. ‘Don’t dawdle or his meal will get cold.’

  Seemingly on second thought, he adde
d: ‘Just wait by the door and someone will bring you his meal. Don’t need another person in this mess,’ he explained, gesturing to the kitchen. ‘And don’t distract the boy. He’s here to work.’

  He must have noticed the boy’s interest. The child couldn’t have been much older than ten. This was probably his first year in the castle kitchens.

  My eyes flicked to the scullion on the other side of the kitchen, his hands raw from scrubbing the surfaces clean. Elias’ hands often looked like that, worn out and sore.

  ‘His evening meal has been taken care of already, so I want you here just before sunrise tomorrow,’ the Cook instructed. He didn’t wait for my response before returning to his bench.

  ‘Aber isn’t one for small talk, so just pick up the meals and go,’ Lirr explained as we walked down the hall. ‘He’s not worth the conversation, anyway.’

  Lirr led me into a sullen room with a low ceiling and dark corners.

  ‘Your meals will be served here. Sometimes the serving times change, so be sure to check with the kitchen staff in the morning. Would you like something to eat now? Have you had dinner?’

  ‘I ate at home.’

  Liar. Eat something.

  Lirr nodded and continued down the hall, stopping us at another door, which revealed a washroom. ‘Lord Rennard likes his sheets and clothes cleaned frequently. You’ll be in here a lot. There’s a young girl who practically lives in this room, so you’ll have help if you need it.’

  She shut the door and moved. I hurried after her.

  I couldn’t remember all the names of the people I had met by the time Lirr showed me to my room. I kept my mind focused on where the rooms were located and what jobs I was expected to do. Lord Rennard’s chambers were on the top floor of the castle. Lirr assured me there would be no mistaking which door led to his room.

  The castle extended further below ground than I ever imagined possible. My room was two floors below the kitchens. A simple bed was pushed against the far wall. Candlelight illuminated my temporary possessions: a wash basin, a closet and an empty vase on a table in the corner. I moved over to the vase and laid a finger on the rim.