Relic

by Bronwyn Eley

  ‘Where’s Elias?’

  I turned to my mother. She shrugged, eyes on the door.

  Gone again. For once, I wasn’t angry. I just wanted to see my brother, to tell him goodbye. If he had known I was coming, he would have made himself scarce anyway.

  ‘Tell him –’ I began, but trapped my tongue between my teeth before I said that horrible word in front of my brothers. ‘I miss him.’

  My mother nodded. As I looked at her, I knew this was it. I never wanted it to end. That was why bringing me here was more cruel than kind. I knew that if I ever saw them again, leaving through that old door would be ten times harder. I wasn’t even sure it was possible this time.

  Bile rose in my throat, my hands trembling by my side, as my mother approached for her final farewell.

  She reached for my hand, her gentle thumb passing along my skin. ‘You’re different already,’ she whispered. My traitorous lips trembled. ‘My girl.’

  We both had to stop. We both had to be strong, for the little eyes watching us. But a hug was normal, expected, so I pulled her in.

  One last time.

  With one hand clinging to her as if she were life itself, I gestured to my brothers with the other. Two small bodies wrapped around our waists in silence. I knew they knew. No one needed to acknowledge it with words. There was enough truth and pain behind this embrace.

  I didn’t know where Markus was. I didn’t care that he was witnessing this. I only cared that Elias wasn’t here. My family needed each other right now. Losing our father had wrecked Elias. I feared what my death would do to this family. Yet I was glad it was me and not them. The idea of the life being sucked from their bodies was worse. I would rather die than be forced to live without them.

  It was selfish, but it was true.

  Cold air slammed into my body as they pulled away, as reality set in. How could I just walk away? How could I not fight to stay with them?

  Keithan flooded my mind – Keithan and his frightened brother. What Alesen had done had wrecked their entire family. And he was right. What hope did I have of actually escaping? There was no way to do it, not without help. High-placed help. Someone fearless and well-connected. That person didn’t exist, not in Jesper, not in Markus. I could not risk those I cared about, not for the chance that I would fail and take more people down with me.

  I couldn’t just run.

  I focused on my brothers, who were lost in the delusion that I would be returning soon.

  ‘Be good now.’

  My little men nodded, so close their shoulders were touching. I knew they would need each other to get through this as much as they would need our mother.

  ‘It was lovely to meet you, Markus.’ The strength she now showed was what we all needed. ‘Thank you for allowing her to visit us.’

  Markus bowed his head and moved over to where I stood helpless by the door. With a gentle hand, he drew his fingers down my arm and found my trembling hand. My mother’s eyes focused on his fingers lacing with mine. The tiniest smile tugged at her mouth. If it brought her comfort to think I wasn’t alone, then I welcomed his touch.

  I squeezed his hand and somehow found my voice, weak as it was.

  ‘Keep that flower alive for me.’

  We eased back, Markus taking the lead. I knew it was over, that it had to be over, but I kept my eyes on my family. My feet scraped against the gravel outside and my tumbling hand found the door as I passed it.

  Slowly, like a death march, the door closed and the light from inside my house vanished, my family along with it.

  Chapter 18

  I didn’t remember going from my front door to the alley tucked alongside my house. Didn’t remember falling to the ground with such force the skin on my knees sliced open.

  Markus said nothing, barely moved, waiting for my grief to finish pouring out like blood from a fresh wound.

  Did he expect this? I know I certainly did. I wanted to curse at him, strike him, leave him standing in an empty alley as I fled back to my family. But he was so gentle, so patient. And if I ran now, he would suffer at Rennard’s hands.

  I focused on the ground, noticing a fist-sized rock by my hand. It was jagged, rough, a weapon of sorts.

  My eyes flicked up, focusing on Markus’ boots. Then back to the rock. If he was willing, Rennard would punish him. But if he was a victim, what then?

  My hand flew to the rock, fingers grazing against the sharp edges. I held it up as I drew back.

  Markus’ gentle hands dropped in an instant, eyes flicking to my hand. But he didn’t move beyond that. Didn’t flinch, didn’t look angry as he locked eyes with me again.

  ‘I never thought about it before.’ Guilt laced his tone.

  ‘What?’ I asked in a whisper.

  ‘Helping you.’ His eyes were distant. ‘I thought you and Jesper would be going soon. I didn’t realise you needed saving.’

  ‘You can’t save me,’ I responded flatly.

  ‘I should try. I just don’t –’

  ‘Stop.’ I let my arm drop, the rock with it. ‘You can’t. I won’t let you risk everything for me. For someone you barely know. Not when you have someone who needs you more.’

  His little sister. I understood the need to protect your siblings over everything else.

  Markus looked at me, eyes full of something like pity, but not quite. ‘I’m sorry. I wish I had more power to help you, but I don’t.’

  ‘You are strong,’ I said. ‘But for your sister, not me, as it should be. She’s your priority. I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

  He swallowed, reaching a hand to mine and squeezing. A simple white cloth appeared before my eyes and I took it silently.

  He stood and held out his hand. I spent another moment wiping at my face before taking it. He pulled me up effortlessly, like I weighed nothing, which was close to fact these days.

  ‘Let’s go get those dogs.’ My voice strained, but it cooperated for now.

  Wrapping an arm around my waist, Markus led me from the alley. People continued along the street, some glancing in our direction, but the only faces I looked out for were city guards.

  I froze as a familiar pair of eyes locked with mine. Sal’s face remained passive as his eyes trailed down my body. I tensed, waiting for a hurtful comment or cruel smirk. Or, worst of all, for him to run off and report me.

  Sal’s eyes found mine again and, with a curt nod, he continued down the street.

  Even though he wouldn’t see it, I gave him a small smile. How things had changed these last few months.

  A gentle hand brushed my lower back and I turned to Markus, his eyes warily following Sal’s retreating form. I gave Markus’ arm a squeeze in reassurance and set my gaze ahead. I refused to look behind me. I refused to look back at my house. Best that I never saw it again.

  I focused on a different house ahead – Mr Alarn’s house. Suddenly, the curtain fluttered and another familiar pair of eyes met mine.

  I knew the worry in Layla’s gaze wasn’t for me.

  I turned to Markus. ‘What you did –’ I began, but stopped, placing my hands on his chest. I watched them moving slightly with his breath. ‘I am grateful. You could get in a lot of trouble for letting that happen.’

  I glanced over my shoulder at Layla, who continued to watch us from the window of her home.

  ‘Who is she?’ he asked.

  ‘Her husband is the one in the dungeon. I saw him yesterday. Spoke with him. I have to tell her that he’s alright.’

  He nodded. ‘Quickly, then,’ he muttered, pushing me gently toward her.

  Layla disappearing from the window for an instant, then her door swung open. Gripping the frame with one whitened hand, the door with the other, her neck muscles were so taut I was surprised she was able to speak.

  ‘Kaylan –’

  ‘He’s alright,’ I interrupted. This wasn’t about me. She and I had grown closer in the years since their marriage, but it was Mr Alarn who meant the world to both of us.
‘I spoke with him yesterday. He’s alright.’

  Her body crumpled forward, hands sliding down the wood. She shot a look over her shoulder to the closed door of their bedroom, where Dala surely rested.

  ‘Forty days,’ she moaned, tears in her eyes. ‘I thought the standard sentence for Negligence was twenty-one.’

  I turned my back slightly, doing my best to hide my reaction from Markus. He would certainly take notice if I explained the real reason Mr Alarn had been arrested.

  ‘You spoke with him?’ she sniffed. ‘How?’

  My jaw locked at the idea of spouting more lies. But I couldn’t involve Markus in this, not after all he had done for me. I glanced over my shoulder. ‘Markus, could Layla and I have a moment?’

  His eyes narrowed. Rennard had told him not to let me out of his sight and, while he bent the rules of our excursion, I knew he didn’t intend to break that rule completely.

  I nodded to the closed door. ‘I would like to say goodbye to little Dala.’

  Oh, look – another lie.

  ‘I’ll wait here.’ He took a step back. He was putting more at risk for this kind gesture, but I had to take it. With a smile, I slipped inside and shut the door.

  Layla was all frowns and nervous fidgeting. ‘Kaylan?’

  ‘He wasn’t arrested for Negligence,’ I whispered. Layla dropped her arms by her side, face slack. ‘Rennard knows about his involvement with the rebellion.’

  As if I had stabbed her in the gut, Layla stumbled back. ‘You’re involved too?’

  I shook my head. ‘Rennard took me to the dungeon to get information out of him and –’

  ‘Why you?’

  ‘Rennard is –’ I paused. These were dangerous words. ‘Unstable. Obsessed with this rebellion. He thought that I could get information out of Mr Alarn because of the threat he poses to my family.’

  A sick look came over her face. ‘And did you?’

  ‘He gave me something small, hoping to satisfy Rennard. It has,’ I assured her. ‘For now.’

  ‘What did you give him?’

  ‘Bellamy’s unused outpost in the Neplar Gorge,’ I explained. She flinched at Bellamy’s name, but settled herself and looked me dead in the eye.

  ‘You told Rennard this yesterday?’

  I nodded. ‘Last night.’

  ‘Then there’s still time.’ She grasped my hands in hers. ‘It’s not unused, Kaylan. They sent men out to Neplar last week to start organising supplies.’

  The lump in my throat dropped to my stomach. I shot a look at both closed doors, Markus and Dala on either side.

  ‘How involved are you, Layla?’ My tone was harsh, accusatory, and she seemed to feel every blow. She flung my hands down.

  ‘Don’t judge me, Kaylan.’

  ‘When your husband gets out, he wants nothing to do with the rebellion anymore,’ I explained. ‘He wants to keep you two safe.’

  Her eyes glazed over for a moment, but then she shook her head, as if wiping the thoughts away. ‘It doesn’t matter right now. What matters are those men at Neplar. If you don’t warn them, they’ll be captured or killed.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes, you!’ she whispered harshly, both of us still aware of Markus on the other side of the thin wall. ‘I keep my involvement with the rebels extremely discreet. I can’t be seen where they loiter in case something goes wrong. Not for Dala –’ Her voice caught on her daughter’s name. ‘And I can’t wait for them to respond to a message. By then it will be too late. You have to warn them.’

  ‘I can’t do that!’ I whispered just as harshly, ignoring the anger in her eyes. ‘I’m Lord Rennard’s servant; I can’t be caught consorting with rebels! I can’t risk my family.’

  ‘If you don’t, those rebels will never return to their families.’ The look on her face was as blunt as her words. She raised her brows at my expression. ‘That’s right. Some with families as young as mine.’

  ‘There has to be another –’

  ‘There’s no time!’ She threw her hand toward the door. ‘Do you trust him?’

  She meant Markus. ‘I –’ My throat closed up. Even if he felt for me the way I suspected – the way I, stupidly, hoped – that didn’t mean he would willingly let me betray the man he grew up with. There was no telling what he would do if I suddenly dragged him to meet a bunch of rebels plotting his master’s death.

  But still ...

  ‘Yes, I trust him.’

  Layla nodded, satisfied. ‘Then go to Irey’s. Ask for Walker.’

  My mind reeled back to the night in the Four Taverns. What had that man with the black hair said? ‘Irey’s. A week today, at sundown. Bring anyone else and I’ll ensure you’re never able to blurt out the B word again.’

  I would never have expected to be outside the castle on the exact night I needed to be. And with Markus, not Rennard. I still wanted nothing to do with their reckless, ambitious plans, whatever they were. But guilt gnawed at my chest. If I did nothing, it could cost lives.

  A warning. I could slip in, warn them and slip away before I sank too deep.

  Layla waited patiently, lip between teeth. When I nodded, she let out a breath.

  ‘Go quickly.’ She pushed me toward the door. ‘They won’t be there long.’

  She was right. The man had said to meet at sundown, which had come and gone some time ago. But what would I tell Markus? I had fed him enough lies for a lifetime, but this could put his life at risk if Rennard ever found out. Perhaps it was better to lie once more, just in case.

  Layla pulled me into a hug before wrenching open the door. ‘Thank you,’ she said loudly – a show, for Markus. ‘For my husband.’

  I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, so I simply nodded.

  When the door was closed, I turned to Markus quietly. How could I lie to him again? After all he had done for me, for my family?

  Layla was right, though –Mr Alarn and I owed those people this warning. It had been a full day since I relayed the information to Rennard; guards had likely already set out for the gorge.

  It might even be too late.

  Markus peered down at me. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I didn’t get to say goodbye to Elias,’ I mumbled.

  It’s for the best. It’s for the best.

  ‘Do you know where he’d be?’

  I gave my best noncommittal shrug, shoulders heavy with disappointment. What I wouldn’t give to actually say goodbye to my brother. Our father never got the chance.

  ‘One of the taverns in the Slip, most likely.’

  Markus wiped a hand over his face. ‘One more stop won’t hurt.’

  I surprised us both then and slid my arms around his waist. He only hesitated briefly before encasing me in his strong arms.

  My head rested against his chest, the thump, thump of his heart beating too loudly in my ears. A reminder of why I was lying to him again. To keep him safe.

  ‘So, where are we going?’ His words vibrated through his body.

  ‘A vile place,’ I sighed. ‘Called Irey’s Tavern.’

  Chapter 19

  Iren was long dead, but we knew enough about him to be sure that he would never have allowed the name of his establishment to be changed. Irey’s, as it was affectionately known, was built during the days when the Gorreg family ruled the city, not long before the Ediann family slaughtered them all and took the Relic for themselves.

  Despite its sullied reputation, Irey’s was one of the more expensive, upmarket taverns in the Slip, merely due to the fact that it had been around so long. It was twice as large as most buildings in the Slip, and never empty, not with its long-standing, loyal clientele.

  ‘I’ve heard of this place,’ Markus mused as we approached. ‘Quite a few disturbances, from what I’ve been told.’

  ‘I’m surprised Rennard hasn’t shut it down,’ I murmured, pulling us to a stop.

  ‘Where there’s profit …’ Markus trailed off. ‘Am I coming inside or waiting out here?’
>
  His best chance of not being recognised, of blending in, would be inside with a drink in his hand. ‘Inside. Did you bring any money?’

  ‘A little.’

  He ushered me into Irey’s, memories of the last time I was here crashing into me nearly as strongly as the noise and smell.

  Markus let out a whistle, which I was close enough to hear over the thrum of the musicians. ‘Do you see him yet? What does he look like?’ He shifted onto his toes, scanning the crowd better than I could. My stomach suddenly clenched. What if he was actually here?

  I passed my gaze over every man with black hair. If I couldn’t find him, Layla had given me the name I needed. Walker. But who would I ask? The barman?

  ‘Let’s get you a drink.’ I took hold of Markus’ arm, grateful for his size as we moved easily through the crowd. As Markus went about ordering himself a drink (I refused the offer to join him), I noticed there was more than one barman.

  ‘Wait here?’ I asked. ‘I’m going to ask around, see if anyone’s seen him.’ He nodded, cradling his drink – red wine; not what I expected.

  I gestured to his thin cotton coat, wondering how he could stand it in the heat. ‘Can I borrow your coat? I’d rather keep this hidden.’ I motioned to the Ediann family crest on my shirt. There was no need to lie about this. It made sense. We were in the Slip, after all.

  Markus slipped off his coat and handed it to me, and I moved to the other end of the bar. The man I sought smiled broadly at my approach, waving his cloth at the bottles behind him.

  ‘How about a spot of Shift? Ladies claim it does wonders for the complexion.’ He brushed his cheeks with the back of his hand. I shook my head.

  ‘Not for you? I can do you a Black Eye, if you’re up for it.’ He leaned on the sticky bench, whipping the cloth to the side. ‘We put a drop of Seed in it to really relax the nerves.’

  Sounds perfect.

  I shook my head again and leaned in as well. ‘I’m looking for someone, actually.’

  The barman pushed back and started collecting the empty cups scattered around the bench. ‘Name?’