by Bronwyn Eley
And of course, the Relic flooded into me, amplifying everything.
My eyes snapped to the source of my greatest pain. It was a dark yellow again. Was it just a trick of the light, or was it really changing colours? Light one minute, dark the next? I took in the strain of Rennard’s arms and jawline. Was it linked to his mood, somehow? The angrier he was, the darker it became?
It wasn’t important right now. I squeezed my eyes closed for a moment. Then I turned to see my audience. When I saw who watched on, I wanted to scream. Cry. Hide myself away.
Shae’s hands were clasped in front of her. Markus stood very still by her side, gaze low.
He knew.
I looked back to my judge. ‘My lord –’
‘Don’t offend me with pleasantries. And don’t think you can avoid answering me again. Just tell me what happened.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ I knew it was a dangerous thing to say, but I could think of nothing else. His eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t remember anything.’
‘You do.’ He rolled his head against the chair. ‘Tell me what happened with Palark.’
Frustration sparked in my chest and fists, building until I snapped. ‘Who is Palark?’
‘The man you nearly killed!’ Rennard shot forward in his chair; his voice sent me sprawling back against the floor. His eyes blackened, like a dark storm threatening everything below it. I blinked and shook my head. It was just in my head. His eyes were their usual warm brown again, but my fingers continued to claw at the smooth floor.
Killed?
Who had I nearly killed? Who was Palark?
But the name sounded familiar, somehow …
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I repeated through clenched teeth, blinking rapidly at the dry sting in my eyes as I willed myself to keep hold of a betraying sob.
‘My lord, if I may?’ Markus stepped forward. Rennard looked to his noble and nodded. I wanted to look at his face, to see if his eyes reflected the cold indifference of his voice. He knew, and I hadn’t been the one to tell him.
‘She claims she doesn’t remember, and perhaps she is telling the truth.’
‘Or she’s lying,’ Thorn spat.
‘Why lie?’ Markus turned to Thorn. ‘We were there, we saw it. There is no denying what happened.’
What happened?
‘Maybe she doesn’t remember because she wasn’t herself.’ He spoke the words so quietly, I found myself turning to meet his gaze. I hadn’t been myself the entire time we had known each other.
‘I didn’t realise you two were so close, Markus,’ Rennard mused, his eyes trained on me.
‘We’re not,’ Markus interjected. ‘I barely know Kaylan.’
Hearing my name, my real name, fall from his mouth like unwanted breath – it turned my stomach. I tried to ignore the way my heart sank. But he wasn’t wrong. He barely knew me.
Rennard sighed. ‘What are you suggesting, then?’
Markus cleared his throat. ‘Perhaps her actions were influenced by the effects of the Relic, my lord. Not to lay blame –’ He added the last part quickly. ‘But we have seen these kinds of changes before.’
Rennard considered Markus’ words, tapping a finger to his lips, eyes focused on me. I dropped my gaze to the red stains on my gown. Did they belong to Palark? The man I nearly killed? What did he mean by nearly? How close had I come to killing this man? The accusation felt like an intruder in my mind.
Markus thought the Relic made me attack this man. Had I suffered another hallucination? Thought he was a threat to me and defended myself?
‘Kaylan, stop!’ Shae shouted. My eyes shot open and I turned to her. She stood calmly against the wall, hands still clasped. I searched her eyes, but she hadn’t seemed to move an inch. No one else was looking at her. Hadn’t they heard her shout?
‘Kaylan, stop!’
Pain spiked through my head and I brought my hand up. Shae’s face entered my mind. Shae in her colourful suit.
‘Kaylan, stop!’
I shut my eyes, focusing on the memory, pulling it closer. My stomach twisted as I saw Shae’s face looking down at me, eyes swimming with fear and anger. What had I done? I reached for more, but I was only permitted brief flashes. Pieces.
‘He was hurting you,’ I whispered to the silent room.
Or was it her? The Kaylan stuck in my mind? She was out of breath. Her hands shook violently. One was around the man’s throat, the other suspended above his face. Red stains covered her hands and her blue dress. I could feel the sticky dampness that drenched her skin.
‘No, he wasn’t!’ Shae’s voice was so loud, unfamiliar. There was something more there, too. Was it fear? ‘He wasn’t.’
I looked over to Shae’s quiet form in the hall. She was finally looking at me, her hands still clasped, her eyes reflecting the mistake I had made, the trouble I put myself in.
My hands shook against the smooth floor. I nearly killed him, a man who hadn’t even fought back. His hands had been on Shae – that had been all I cared about. Her eyes were so lifeless; surely he had been hurting her?
I flinched at the memory of my fists smashing into his face. He must have been unconscious, because he didn’t stop me, didn’t fight back. But I kept hitting him.
My sudden cry caught the attention of the room. Tears made their way down my face, slithering down my neck. Rennard nodded at me.
‘I think she remembers now.’ He stood and moved forward. Crouching down, he spoke softly. ‘You have caused so much inconvenience over the last few days. If you had been any other servant, you would be dead already.’
My eyes shot up at the word and I stared into his still eyes. My mind screamed at me to back away, to flee, because it was clear as day in his gaze.
He wanted to kill me.
‘I defended you,’ he laughed disbelievingly. ‘I told Palark’s family you would be dead soon enough and that killing you now would save you months of endless suffering that they could enjoy. They agreed it would be best to let you live out your sentence with me.’
‘Thank Lord Rennard,’ Thorn boomed.
My lips trembled, finding the unwelcome words. ‘Thank you, my lord.’
It was a mere whisper, but it satisfied. Rennard stood up and disappeared from view. Thorn turned and did the same. I didn’t dare look behind me but, as I heard them leave, I released my breath and let my body drop to the floor.
‘Kaylan, stop!’
My eyes flew open and my hand snapped up to my face. I rubbed at my itching skin for a moment before another hand stopped me.
Shae’s gentle gaze hovered over me. I drew in a breath, waiting for her anger to return. That fear in her eyes.
‘What is it?’ She held my hand.
‘My face,’ I said, reaching for it. It felt dry. Where was the blood?
‘It’s gone,’ she said, her eyes meeting my frantic gaze.
‘What’s gone?’
‘The blood.’ She said the word so quietly, I nearly missed it. ‘We washed it off.’
I cleared my throat and sat up. I was back in my room, simple and quiet after everything that had just happened. My arms ached at the movement, my shoulders buckling under my body weight. I kept pushing. ‘We?’
Shae turned her head. I directed my blurry vision to the figure leaning against my wardrobe.
Markus’ usual smile was missing. His passionless eyes were flat, coolly examining the contents of my room.
‘Why does my face hurt?’ I touched the burning skin, moving us past the awkward moment. Markus was now focused on the empty vase on the table. I hadn’t bothered to fill it.
‘The blood was on there for a while.’ Shae folded my hand in hers. ‘It took a bit of work to get it off.’
‘A while?’ I focused on her. ‘How long ago was the celebration?’
‘You were in the dungeon for three days, Kaylan.’ Shae dropped her gaze.
My memory was a void.
‘I don’t
remember being there until I woke up and was brought to Rennard. How could I not remember three days? I would’ve had to drink something. And eat.’ I was mostly talking to myself now, asking questions I feared would never be answered.
‘We don’t know, Kaylan,’ said Shae. ‘You were taken away so quickly, and the next time we saw you was tonight, in the Grand Hall.’
‘Taken away by Thorn?’ I asked with clenched teeth, glad I couldn’t remember him dragging me from my friends.
Shae shook her head. ‘No, by another guard. He heard the commotion and came running.’
As she said it, I remembered easily. The face of the man who dragged me away from the limp body. Even though the sight of him had brought me some semblance of comfort, I hadn’t been kind to him. Niell. Had I not known it was him at the time? I’d clawed at his face, said terrible things to him.
‘You weren’t yourself, Kaylan.’ Shae held my hand so tight I feared she would never let go. I snatched it away.
‘What if I was? What if I hurt you next?’ I choked on my words as tears left my eyes. Shae shifted closer to me. I wanted to escape her kindness. I didn’t deserve it. Markus unfolded his arms and stood up straight.
I shook my head and buried it in my hands. I never used to cry. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I’ve seen this before.’ It was Markus. I drew my hands down slightly, revealing my eyes. His mouth was twisted.
‘Seen what?’ Shae turned to face him.
‘It’s the Relic,’ Markus said. ‘It doesn’t just break your body. It breaks your mind.’
I saw my hands breaking Palark’s face. I flinched.
‘What does that mean for Kaylan?’ Shae’s voice quivered. She was losing me so much sooner than anticipated. Once the mind goes, the body follows.
Markus sighed and shrugged. ‘I’ve never –’ His words caught and he looked to me. ‘I’ve never been so close to these events before. I’m not sure, exactly.’
These events?
My pain. My insanity. The threat I now caused to everyone around me. They were events, of sorts.
I cleared my throat and sat forward, rubbing my neck.
‘So you’re saying that I’m losing my mind?’ My eyes were tired, glancing at him but wanting so badly to close. Markus nodded. ‘And then I’ll die?’
It wasn’t a real question. I needed no answer from him this time.
Once, when we were children, Shae and I had a joint birthday party. Neither of our families could usually afford the expense of providing food and presents, but they made an exception for our ninth birthdays.
Our final year as children.
We wanted to play dress-ups, so my mother dusted off her sewing skills, found some cheap fabric and made us ball gowns to wear that night. All our friends had brought food, candles and, from the ones who could afford them, presents.
My father and his oldest friend played music for us all night. There was dancing and laughing and singing and, for the first time in a long time, I had overeaten and felt terrible because of it. That only made us laugh more.
The dream I had after Shae and Markus left took that innocent memory and warped it into something dark and horrible. On the surface it looked beautiful, just as everything had that night. My father was alive. My brother was healthy and happy. Rennard was there, and Jesper, and Thorn, all dancing and singing and laughing.
But everything was in reverse. My brother was healthy and happy and loved me, but my parents did not. Shae and I weren’t friends. Rennard was my friend, as was Thorn. But, at the same time, they weren’t.
Then there was the blood. Every time I bit into a warm pastry or a clump of cheese, blood oozed. But it was never my blood. It was his – Markus’. The man I couldn’t help but care for. The man whose death I caused. His body lay motionless in the centre of the table, surrounded by the food, oozing blood into each and every delicious treat before me.
But nothing had disturbed me as much as when Palark walked into my house, a winning smile splashed across his face, as if he might somehow set me at ease. That was the one thing that remained consistent in this dream: how bad Palark was.
I walked over to him, merely to talk, but Shae screamed.
‘Palark, stop!’
Then I was on the floor, with Palark above me. There was no blood on his face; he was neatly kept and his eyes shone with elation. Then his long fingers trailed down my neck, across my chest, down my stomach, heading toward –
I bucked violently, but to no avail.
Palark stopped. Dragged a dagger out of nowhere. Dangled it before my eyes.
All I could do was watch as the blade pierced my flesh. Straight through the centre of my hand, nailing it to the ground. I looked at the blood, escaping from the new hole in my body.
I felt nothing.
When my eyes finally opened, my sobs were deafening in the silence around me. Sitting up, I cradled my left hand, numbness stabbing as powerfully as if the blade was really there. There was no hole. It was not real. Even with the gaps in my memory, I knew that wasn’t what had happened that night.
Shae didn’t go into details when I asked her. It was best we just moved on, forgot, she said. But I couldn’t forget something I couldn’t remember. It was worse not knowing, and the longer I stayed in the dark, the longer it would torment me.
I flexed my shaking fingers and launched from my bed. Fabric slipped beneath my bare feet and I stumbled forward. My pants were too loose, too long, hanging low on my hips. My shirt ballooned around me as well – but perhaps this, too, was all in my mind?
I had no mirror to assess the damage, but as I ran my hands over my stomach, my collarbone, my face, I could feel the Relic in every diminished muscle.
I couldn’t work in these clothes. Lirr had said as much when I arrived. ‘There are new clothes for you in the closet. When they need altering, see the Clothier.’
When, not if.
Would the others notice? Rennard, Thorn, Jesper, Lirr, Markus – would they see that I wasn’t strong enough to fight the Relic?
I could lie, but my traitorous body couldn’t.
With a sharp cry, I kicked the wall. The pain only fuelled my anger. Craving more carnage, I turned to the vase, reaching for its fragile form.
I froze when I noticed the flower.
A single-stemmed white flower with eight petals. It was just like the one I had pulled apart that day in the garden with Jesper. Markus had teased me for it.
I reached out and touched it gently. Why had he put one here now? I knew it had been Markus, somehow. Had he snuck back in while I was sleeping? The thought made me uncomfortable – not because I had been asleep, but because he had been near without allowing me the chance to explain, to apologise for lying.
This wasn’t me.
I wasn’t taken from my home that night. Kaylan was still there, at home with her family, at work in the forge. The person I was now was a mere memory of her. Liar. Coward. Selfish.
And a danger to those around me. Whatever the Relic was doing to me made me dangerous, but Rennard didn’t care.
I wrenched open my wardrobe, where my old clothes from home still hung, mocking me. I wasn’t even sure why I hadn’t burned them yet. I ripped them out and threw them on the floor. Then my sheets. I upended the bed frame, which threatened to break but remained intact.
My body ached for more – more sound, more carnage, more hate.
But I had nothing left to wreck, except the lives of those around me. What trouble had this caused Shae?
A sharp sting burrowed its way into my palm. I looked at my hand, to the spot where Palark’s blade had pierced me in the dream. There was no hole. It was not real. Yet I felt it there, lurking beneath the surface. Sinking to the floor, I leaned against the mess I had made, curling against what used to be my bed. Not even bothering to put it back in its place, I tried to soothe my breathing as I told myself, again and again, the most important thing.
It was not real.
&nb
sp; Chapter 15
With the doors to the dining hall wide open, I stood to the side so they couldn’t see me. I heard Rennard, but not what he was saying. Glancing down at the solitary plate in my hand, I swallowed the lump growing in my throat. It had to mean Jesper was gone. I would likely not see her before –
I ran a hand over my new clothes. The Clothier had opened a small chest and pulled a pre-made uniform from a pile, a sad look in her eyes that told me this wasn’t the first time she had issued new clothes to a Shadow.
With a deep breath, I stepped through the doorway. Rennard stopped speaking immediately. Thorn leaned on the table, hand balanced next to the papers before them, sickening eyes tracing the bruise along the side of my face. Collecting some of the papers, he nodded to Rennard and strode from the room, passing too close to me. I stayed completely still until the sounds of his retreat had left my ears. Rennard watched me the whole time, arms folded, body leaning back.
For once I couldn’t control the shaking and I nearly dropped the plate onto the table. As I moved back, he began his meal without a single word.
I peered at the chair at the far end of the table. It was empty.
The door to the library was closed, which somehow made it harder to go inside. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling, and the doorknob seemed to resist me, but eventually the door swung open.
Keithan sat at the long table, face behind a book. He looked up and almost shot out of his chair.
‘Kaylan,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t expecting anyone.’
He moved around the table, placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and ushered me into the room. His movements were so gentle, as if handling a wild animal.
He must have heard. There wouldn’t be a single person in this castle that didn’t know what happened. Someone would have taken over my duties while I was locked away as they decided my fate.
The news would have spread.
‘What can I do for you?’ Keithan asked from behind me. I looked at the books around the room. Endless answers for my endless questions.