‘You’re sure?’ said Allehra, her eyes clouded with concern.
‘I can always come back tomorrow, I don’t mind,’ Luka added.
‘Like I said, it’s like any muscle,’ said Allehra. ‘It takes training to make it strong.’
Bleak shook her head. ‘The huntress Rheyah gave us daughters of the realm,’ she said, ‘that was the last phrase?’
Luka nodded. ‘It’s a quote from an old song, one of the few oral traditions still passed down to each generation of Valian kindred.’
‘What’s it about?’ Bleak was stalling; she wasn’t sure she could do any more.
‘How Valians are demigods, descendants of the goddess Rheyah. It’s a popular story around here.’
‘I’ll bet,’ Bleak said, taking a deep breath.
Allehra was monitoring her carefully and placed a cool hand on Bleak’s shoulder. ‘That’s enough for today. It’s too soon to push further.’
Bleak didn’t have the energy to argue. She nodded and accepted Luka’s arm to heave her up.
Bren was sitting by the campfire with Tilly when Bleak got back to the keep. They had mugs of ale, and bread and cheese. And Bren’s crooked smile was aimed at the Valian. Discomfort twisted in Bleak’s gut, but she ignored it. Hunger hit her like a net full of fish on a deck, and she realised she hadn’t eaten all day.
‘When’d you get out?’ she asked Bren, collapsing onto the bench beside him and taking a bite from the bread in his hand.
Bren looked to Tilly for confirmation. ‘Couple of hours ago?’
Tilly nodded. ‘Something like that. I felt sorry for the poor bastard.’
‘You let him out?’
‘Sure did.’
‘Thanks.’ She went to take another bite of his bread, but he shoved her away and popped the rest of it in his mouth. He pointed to where the food was laid out on tables, only Bleak was too tired to get back up now.
‘Where’ve yer been all day?’ he asked her.
Bleak closed her eyes as she rested her head against the tree behind her.
‘With Allehra and Luka.’
‘Yer on a first-name basis with the Mother Matriarch of Valia?’
‘Seems that way.’
‘What’d ya do?’
Bleak shrugged. ‘Does it matter?’
‘Yeah.’
‘They wouldn’t want me to say,’ she said.
‘Since when do yer do anything that others want?’
Bleak’s eyes flew open and heat rushed to her cheeks. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Bren didn’t reply, but the muscle in his jaw slid.
‘If you’re so hell-bent on knowing people’s plans, you won’t mind sharing yours, then,’ she snapped.
‘What do ya mean?’
‘Well, you found me. I’m alright. Now what?’
‘Can’t ya just be grateful?’
‘For what? Having me thrown in the pits with you?’
‘For me giving a shit.’
‘You didn’t have to.’
Tilly shifted uncomfortably on the other side of Bren. ‘I’ll, uh … leave you to it,’ she said, and left before either could object.
‘That’s not the point,’ Bren said quietly, staring after Tilly.
‘Then tell me, what is the point?’
Bren tightened the tie around his hair and swept the loose strands away from his face. He sighed. ‘We’re … Look, despite whatever’s happened between us, we’re family. B Senior was as close to a father as either of us had. He’d skin me alive if I didn’t look out for ya.’
He nudged her with his elbow. Bleak didn’t look at him; she didn’t know if she could handle what she’d see in his eyes. Instead, she took the old length of rope from her pocket and began knotting. King sling. Bimini twist. Spider hitch. Looping and pulling, tightening and tying, before unravelling to start again.
Chapter 15
Bleak was hungover. What little contents left in her stomach churned, threatening to come back up. Her head pounded as though her brain were swelling by the second, as though it were growing too big for her skull to contain.
Gods, what happened last night? She groaned and dragged herself from the bedroll in Tilly’s spare room. The morning sun streaming in through the window burned her eyes and she groaned again.
‘You don’t look so good,’ Tilly’s voice sounded from the door.
‘Really? But I feel so fresh,’ Bleak quipped.
‘Sure. Shouldn’t you be at your training?’
‘I don’t know, you tell me.’
Tilly stepped forward and wrenched the covers back from Bleak.
‘What —’ Bleak cried out, scrambling to cover herself with her undershirt.
‘Relax, I’ve seen a pair of legs before,’ Tilly dismissed, her gaze falling upon Bleak’s thigh, where much of her skin was marred by deep scarring.
‘How in the realm did you get that?’
Bleak pulled the hem of her shirt down further.
‘Do you mind?’ she snapped. But Tilly continued to stare, where the scar still protruded from beneath the material.
‘Who did that to you?’ she breathed.
‘No one. It’s nothing.’
‘Horseshit it’s nothing.’ Tilly leaned in and made to pull Bleak’s hands away from the shirt.
‘Stop – it’s none of your fucking business!’
Tilly gaped at her, raising her hands in surrender. She took several steps back. ‘Sorry.’
‘Get out,’ Bleak said, her pounding head forgotten, her heart racing.
Tilly nodded, hands still raised. She left Bleak on the bedroll, bare legs tucked carefully beneath her.
Bleak had already missed breakfast, and she was late, so late to her training. Trying to push Tilly’s look of horror from her thoughts, she scurried down the ladder to the forest floor and bolted through the trees, trying to find the stream from the day before.
‘Where ya going?’ said Bren from behind her. Someone had given him a fresh shirt and pants, both of a far finer make than anything she’d seen him wear before. They didn’t suit him, she decided.
‘I’m late,’ she said.
‘That doesn’t answer my question.’
‘Where’d you sleep last night?’ she heard herself ask.
‘So ya don’t remember anything, then?’
She shrugged, and continued to trek through the undergrowth. ‘What’s there to remember?’
He sighed. ‘Nothing.’
‘Go back to the keep, Bren – I’m late to meet Allehra.’
‘Since when do you have so much to say to the Mother Matriarch?’
‘Since Henri saved me from being raped and probably murdered,’ she snapped.
Bren stopped in his tracks. ‘What?’
‘Just go.’
‘Bleak —’
‘Go!’ She found the stream and didn’t turn back.
Allehra was furious. And Luka looked like she’d throttle Bleak with one nod from the queen. Bleak spluttered her apologies, but it was clear Valians made a habit of not needing to give them, and certainly not accepting them.
‘I trust you know not to let that happen again?’ said Allehra, arms folded over her chest.
‘Yes. Sorry, again.’
Luka cleared her throat.
‘Yes, Majesty,’ Bleak added, feeling stupid.
Allehra was wearing another flowing gown, its billowing light-blue skirts in stark contrast to Luka’s dark, skin-tight leathers.
‘Alright,’ Allehra said, ‘I want us to try some memories today.’
‘Memories? I don’t see how the past is going to help me in my current predicament.’
Luka shot Bleak a warning glance.
Don’t forget who you’re speaking to. The thought shot out to Bleak, clear as day, causing her to jump. If Allehra had thought the same, she didn’t indicate it in any way. Instead, she squared her shoulders and said, ‘The past has a way of showing us the right path. Inevitably, the s
ame mistakes were made once before, and to know this is great power.’
Bleak dipped her head in acknowledgement and waited.
‘Luka.’ Allehra turned to the young warrior. ‘I want you to think of something that occurred in your life recently. Something small – like a particular meal or conversation, something you saw, perhaps. It could be from yesterday, or last week at the latest. Bleak is going to attempt to identify it.’
Bleak looked at Luka. ‘Are you okay with that?’
Luka shrugged. ‘I lead a pretty simple life,’ she said. ‘Not much up here I wouldn’t tell you anyway.’ She tapped her head lightly. ‘Do your worst.’
Taking a deep breath, Bleak focused on Luka’s mind. She had grown accustomed to the buzzing of the surface-level thoughts, hearing Luka absent-mindedly spot a ripple in the pool, or observe some detail about Bleak’s appearance: She’d be much comelier if she didn’t scrape her hair back in that messy knot… And then the mental apology that followed: Just in case you heard that.
Finding Luka’s musings and matching facial expressions distracting, Bleak closed her eyes. Exhaling through her nose, she concentrated. At first, it felt as though she were almost physically moving Luka’s irrelevant thoughts aside. As though she were wading in the sea, pushing past the slimy weeds and debris. But then, just as sometimes the unexpected end of a sandbar catches one by surprise, she dropped.
Her stomach caught in her throat as she sank down, down into an entirely different level of Luka’s mind. She was under the sea now, and it was dark. She seemed to glide forward into the shadowy passageway. This was more complex than before. Despite there being only one apparent passage, she felt disorientated and nauseous. Up ahead, lights shone out into the path before her – rooms? She came to the first one. Inside, she saw Athene – a younger, more hardened-looking Athene, speaking with a child. The child was Luka, perhaps ten or eleven years old. Bleak hovered in the doorway for a moment. The pair were in Valia, in the keep, surrounded by greenery, and yet beyond them were more doorways.
‘Who your father is, is not important,’ said Athene. ‘What is important is Valia, and the Valian Way.’
Young Luka’s face was puffy and wet with tears, her eyes betraying defeat.
‘What is important?’ Athene questioned.
Luka sniffed. ‘The Valian Way.’
Bleak felt herself being pulled away from the door. She continued to glide further down the hall. She caught glimpses of the other rooms as she passed – Luka training with Tilly, Luka stitching a cut on her own knee, Luka in the kitchens with a young man – a cook. He was in a few of the rooms: Luka with her hands all over him, while he bore an expression of quiet, eager bewilderment. The next room contained an entire festival for the goddess Rheyah, where the kindred, dressed in warrior garb, drank and danced around the fire.
What am I meant to be looking for? Bleak paused. She couldn’t remember why she was here. Where was here?
A shout of laughter startled her, and Bleak was pulled along to the next room. Henri was there, a younger Henri. She was there with Athene, at a training platform among the canopies. Luka looked on, hidden in the foliage, this time perhaps eight years old. The two women were sparring, but with big goofy grins on their faces – carefree smiles that Bleak hardly recognised. Athene tripped Henri and pinned her to the ground beneath her body.
‘You let me,’ Athene accused, her hair hanging loose, touching Henri’s face.
Henri smirked. ‘You’ll never know.’
Bleak’s heartbeat quickened. She shouldn’t be watching this. She shouldn’t be seeing Henri like this. The matriarch would surely find out and skin her alive; she hated Bleak enough already. As though some other force wanted to soothe her fears, Bleak was pulled gently from the doorway. The passage was endless. She squinted to try to locate the endpoint – locate. That was why she was here. To locate a specific memory, a recent memory. Bleak looked around. These were not recent memories; some were from years and years ago …
‘She won’t mother a child.’ A familiar voice broke the silence – another room.
Inside, Athene had teenage Luka by the shoulders. ‘Not after everything she’s been through.’
‘So?’ Luka said, frowning.
‘She’ll select an heir. And I can only imagine that will be you. Are you ready for that?’
‘Me? Why in the realm would she choose me? There are dozens more talented.’
‘We haven’t spoken of others,’ Athene said, drawing back from her daughter.
‘But you’ve spoken of me?’
Athene said nothing more, busying herself on the other side of the room.
‘You’ve spoken of me?’ Luka said, louder.
The words echoed, suddenly booming inside Bleak’s head. The room, the passageway, everything shot into the distance – she was dragged away.
‘Bleak,’ someone called, ‘Bleak,’ but they were so far away.
It took a few minutes before Bleak’s blurry vision returned to normal. It was dark. Luka was no longer sitting before her. She was damp with sweat, and her whole body ached, as though she’d been on a massive journey.
‘You’re awake,’ said Allehra’s voice from beside her.
Pushing against the stiffness in her neck, Bleak turned to her. It was just the two of them. Concern rippled across the matriarch’s face.
‘What – what happened?’
‘Are you hurt?’
Bleak looked down and examined herself. ‘No, but … I’m sore, all over,’ she admitted. ‘What happened?’
Allehra sighed and rolled her shoulders back. How long had they been here?
‘You fell into a trance.’
‘What?’
‘A trance – some kind of deep meditation. Luka and I agreed it may be dangerous to wake you from it.’
‘Is Luka okay? I didn’t hurt her?’
‘She’s fine.’
Bleak looked at the darkened sky and heard the crackling fires in the distance.
‘How long?’ she asked.
‘Difficult to say exactly.’
‘How long?’
Allehra pursed her lips. ‘My guess would be roughly eight hours, perhaps eight and a half.’
Bleak started. ‘What?’
Allehra nodded, her mouth set in a grim smile. ‘I know. I’ve never seen anything like it.’
A brief, cold sensation crept down Bleak’s spine as she recalled the dark passageway and hundreds of rooms.
‘Did I … do anything? Say anything?’
Allehra shook her head. ‘You sat there with your eyes closed. Sometimes you visibly tensed and I could see you sweating. But I had no idea what was going on. I had Luka fetch one of our oldest healers, but she said there was nothing to be done. We had to wait.’
‘So Luka left?’
‘Yes.’
‘And I was still inside her mind?’
‘So it seems.’
Bleak exhaled shakily. The earlier enjoyment of her powers was gone, replaced now with a crippling fear. What if she’d got stuck in Luka’s mind? What if she’d hurt Luka?
‘What now?’ she asked, swallowing hard.
‘Well, I must ask – what did you see? Did you find Luka’s memory?’
Bleak’s pulse quickened. She didn’t even understand what had happened yet. Did she truly have to tell Allehra?
‘Bleak,’ the older woman’s voice warned.
‘I didn’t find the memory,’ Bleak heard herself say.
Allehra opened her mouth to give another warning.
‘But I found other memories.’
‘What do you mean?’
Bleak squirmed under the queen’s determined gaze.
‘I – I must rest.’
‘We need to know what happened.’
‘Please.’ The word came out more desperate than Bleak had intended. She was shivering, the cool night air like ice on her clammy, hot skin.
To her surprise, Allehra nodded. ‘Very well. Tomor
row. You will explain this tomorrow.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Two sessions of training,’ Allehra said in wonder, getting to her feet. ‘I didn’t think we would get so far so soon. But I’ve realised we need to train your powers alongside some physical abilities. You need them to be able to complement one another.’
Bleak sighed. ‘Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I don’t exactly have much to offer in that department. I’m not really built for fighting.’
‘You need to learn that every flaw you think you have can be used to an advantage.’
‘How?’
‘People will underestimate you – that’s a powerful thing.’
‘Why me?’ Bleak asked, searching Allehra’s face. ‘Why are you helping me?’
Sadness swept across the queen’s face. ‘I’m trying something new.’
Bleak insisted that Allehra go on ahead of her, and when she stood, her legs were weak, her muscles quavering with each step. She’d never thought it was possible to feel at once both a million years old and like a newborn calf finding its footing for the first time. But that was how she felt.
The heart of the keep was bustling when Bleak arrived, utterly spent from her training. She wanted nothing more than to swipe a bottle of wine and lock herself away in Tilly’s apartments. But the thought of seeing Tilly so soon after this morning sent a hot flush of shame to her cheeks. Tilly had seen her scar, and the look of disgust on the Valian’s face was now permanently etched into Bleak’s mind. She couldn’t bear the thought of facing Tilly after that, especially given how rude Bleak had been to her, kicking her out of her own home. Bleak turned her attention to the kindred feasting and laughing by the fire. Luka clapped her on the shoulder.
‘Good to see you conscious again, Angovian.’
‘Thanks.’
‘You look like you could use a drink.’
‘I could always use a drink.’
‘Join me and the other trainees, then.’
Bleak opened her mouth to decline, when she spotted Bren. On the other side of the campsite, Bren was down on one knee, hammering a broken leg back into the underside of a table. His shirt was open, revealing his muscular torso, beads of sweat caught in his chest hair. Beside him, Tilly was laughing, handing him one nail at a time.
Heart of Mist Page 15