The Hidden Witch

by A C Rae

  Eira moved forward and gently brushed the lock of hair back across his forehead. She liked the feel of his hair. It was soft. She slipped her fingers through his hair gently. Quinn's eyes opened. Eira recognised the glow of the gift in his eyes before she jumped back guiltily.

  When she looked at Quinn again his eyes had settled back to his normal blue.

  Half asleep, he smiled drowsily at her. “Hey,” he whispered.

  Eira shifted back towards him. “Hey.” She smiled nervously. Quinn returned the smile. She felt a glowing in her stomach. With a jolt at her treacherous stomach, she pulled away from him.

  Her hair fell forward in a blonde cascade. Her mouth opened slightly in surprise.

  Quinn reached with his hand and brought a lock closer for inspection. He grinned. “It suits you. But then any colour suits you.” He looked down, unable to meet her eyes following his compliment.

  Pryce knocked on the door gently before walking in.

  He noted Eira's hair. “Amazing. I knew my sister was talented in the gift but I wasn't expecting it to work that well. You look nice.”

  Eira nodded her thanks. “Thank you. I wish I could thank your sister in person.”

  “She has already left I'm afraid. But she knew you'd be grateful.” Pryce moved and pulled across the single curtain. “We need to head to Aelin now- the rush of people entering Aelin for morning trade would be the perfect time to sneak back in.”

  Quinn sprung up and bowed to Eira. He held out his hand. “May I escort you to Aelin, mi'lady?”

  Eira giggled as she rose from the bed. She bowed back. “Why, thank you, m'lord.” She took his hand and walked with him to the doorway.

  Quinn bowed to Pryce. “And I trust you will be coming along, oh esteemed one?”

  Pryce laughed. “I suppose I could tag along.”

  They said their goodbyes to Jacob again. Eira rode with her hood up and her head lowered whenever they passed anyone.

  She had been assured that her hair colour would return to its usual brown. She merely had to look in a mirror and repeat her words three times. She had the words written on a piece of paper, but had not unfolded the paper, just in case.

  She liked having her long hair back. At first having shorter hair had been nice; it needed less work in the morning. But she had found she missed the feel of it trailing down her back. She had missed being able to flick it over her shoulder and missed being able to style it in different ways.

  In the morning, Pryce would take her to the dress shop. Quinn would not see her dress until the night of the ball, and that excited her. She hoped she would be able to find a ball gown that would make Quinn look at her with his shy smile.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Any nobleman worth his salt gains an invitation to Lord Cassian’s estate. It is said to almost be as vast and opulent as the palace.”

  Book II, A Guide to Avarria

  T his time, given that Lord Cassian's estate was on the far east of Aelin, they had decided to get ready in the cave in Aelin forest they had stayed in the night with the actors. From there they would slip onto the main road and enter Aelin via carriage.

  Eira had modestly retreated into a side cavern in order to get ready. Unusually for a noblewoman, she knew how to dress her own hair. Pryce had been able to get several gold hair pins and delicate flower decorations she could twist into her hair. They were on loan from Abershaw's wife, Lady Elizabeth. She had not yet met Abershaw but understood from Quinn he was almost Pryce's double in terms of creating mischief and enjoying danger.

  Having finished the last touch to her hair, she carefully tied on her mask. Looking in the small mirror she had brought, she was unrecognisable, even to herself. She sighed in relief. Now she knew she would not be recognised she could relax. A little.

  She picked up her delicate lace gloves from her pack. They had been carefully wrapped in tissue paper. She unwrapped them and pulled them on. They reached just beyond her wrists.

  Smoothing an imaginary crease from the front of the dress, she called to Pryce and Quinn that she was ready, and would be coming in.

  When she stepped into the cavern occupied by Quinn and Pryce, she glowed at the expression of awe on Quinn's face, but was sure that hers was an exact match.

  Quinn already had his mask on as well, and it gave an air of mystery to him she found very alluring. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle outwards, and his lips looked very kissable underneath.

  Eyes roaming down his body she noted how his outfit clung to him in places that made her blush. Even the way his hose clung to his legs sent fiery sparks flying through every fibre of her being.

  Quinn swallowed. Eira's blue dress complimented her hair and swung recklessly over her body, revealing just enough to make him want to see more, so much more than she was showing.

  Even better, he saw something in her eyes as she looked at him. Like she wanted him. She licked her lips unconsciously. Shifting slightly, Quinn appraised how the dress had fine delicate embroidery in threads of silver that shimmered slightly whenever she moved, catching the candlelight that flickered in the cave. By the Ancestors, he knew he wanted her.

  Pryce rolled his eyes, and coughed, feeling uncomfortable with the way the two of them seemed moments from tearing each other's clothes off with the power of their eyes alone. “Coach is outside m'lord.” He bowed deeply.

  Quinn, distracted, busied himself with picking up his sword and buckling it to his side. His cheeks glowed with fire. “Here goes...” He held out his arm to Eira, who graciously accepted it.

  Absently Quinn noted that Eira was wearing a perfume that smelled like tallynberries. His favourite fruit.

  They remained silent throughout the carriage journey there.

  Eira kept her hands neatly folded in her lap but could sense every nerve ending tingling in her side next to Quinn, who was busy staring out the window.

  He wasn't even seeing whatever was out of the window. He was busy running his hands through Eira's hair in his mind. In his thoughts he had had the courage to lean over slowly and kiss her.

  The other part of his mind was cursing him for being a coward and not doing it in real life.

  As they neared Lord Cassian's estate, their progress slowed as more carriages filled the space on the road.

  Lord Cassian's mansion loomed just ahead, marked by a long line of glittering lamps that led the way to his gates.

  As they pulled to a stop, Eira suddenly grasped Quinn's hand and squeezed it. When Quinn looked in Eira's eyes he could see his own nerves reflected in them. Swallowing, he managed to flash what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

  The coach door opened as one of Lord Cassian's footmen waiting at the gates did his duty.

  Quinn left the coach first, and held out his hand to Eira, as per the custom. He smiled as he saw her step down from the coach delicately, the light from the lamps causing twinkles of light to dance across her dress. Soon, she would be dancing in his arms. The thought sent a warm glow of pleasure through his chest.

  Pryce rolled the coach away as Quinn and Eira made their way towards the mansion.

  Quinn had never seen so large a house, except the palace and he had only ever seen that from the outside. Eira gently elbowed him in the ribs to remind him to school his expression better.

  He closed his jaw but struggled to avoid staring.

  Every surface seemed to be gilded with gold, or draped in opulent fabric. The floor tiles, polished black marble, reflected the flickering light that emanated from a mixture of oil lamps and beeswax candles. Forgetting for a moment the place belonged to Lord Cassian, the mansion seemed almost magical.

  They reached the ballroom doors. From the other side Quinn could hear the sounds of laughter, music and relaxed conversation.

  Lord Cassian's footman pushed the door open, and the sounds washed over Quinn like a rainfall of stars.

  They were not introduced- that would invalidate the whole premise behind a masquerade ball, a party with few limita
tions. Although some people would be recognisable by their shape or sound of the voice, what happened at the masquerade ball, stayed at the masquerade ball.

  Eira and Quinn both graciously accepted a flute of sparkling wine and moved to the side to watch the dance unfolding on the dance floor.

  Lord Cassian could have been among the throng of people, but Quinn found it hard to tell. There were many men with blonde hair dotted around. Quinn rather hoped he wouldn't bump into him.

  He downed the wine in one, tipping his head back.

  The band finished their piece, and the dance ended with a flourish.

  Quinn took Eira's arm and led her to the dance floor for the next dance. She looked at him in surprise but followed.

  Soon, she was swept up in the magic of the dance. Quinn executed his moves perfectly, sweeping across the floor majestically. She spun across the room, matching him perfectly, step by step as the music picked up in pace.

  He pulled her scandalously close for a brief second, her heart beating soundly in her chest, and then she was flung back, holding his hands.

  Rising, she politely applauded the rest of the participants. She felt gloriously flushed from the exertion of the dance. And the sparkling wine of course.

  Quinn smiled down at her and her knees weakened. She was resolved, in that moment. Even when they freed her father, she would stay with Quinn.

  She smiled back, excited and apprehensive all at once.

  As they had firmly established themselves as guests at the party, they could move onto the next stage of their plan.

  Quinn paused for a moment. He whispered in Eira's ear. “We need to look like lovers sneaking out.”

  She was so shocked; she was unable to formulate a response before he moved away. Unable to trust her voice, she squeezed his hand. Bringing his hand to her lips, she kissed it. In a public place, that was pushing the boundaries of what custom would allow. She secretly wanted more, but would have to wait.

  They stepped out of the busy ballroom into the house. As they had hoped, there were people milling about, looking for more audible conversation away from the noise of the dancing and the band.

  Some couples even appeared to be heading upstairs for more privacy. Eira had heard such things happened at balls, people emboldened by the secrecy their masks afforded them. She had once sworn to her father that she would not be one of them. For the first time, she felt a hint of disappointment that she had. She mentally shook herself, they were here to help her father, not make out.

  They moved swiftly but calmly between rooms. Quinn, being a perfect gentleman, insisted on looking in the rooms first to make sure they were not already occupied. Some of them were.

  Closing his eyes against the scene unfolding in the room behind the door he had just opened, Quinn stepped back and closed the door. He had stopped apologising for intruding long ago, and now just backed out of the room as swiftly as he could.

  They had made their way across the vast majority of the east wing. Private rooms were usually built facing the east, so they had focused their search there.

  There were only two rooms left. Quinn reasoned they must surely be Lord Cassian's bedroom and study.

  He stepped resolutely forward and turned the handle of the next room.

  It was locked. Immediately he knew this was the room they were looking for.

  Eira looked out for other people while he picked the lock. He had gained the experience while looking for rooms to hide from his landlord in. That seemed a very long time ago and almost someone else's life.

  He heard the click of the lock sliding back. Holding his breath, he turned the handle and stepped inside. Eira followed.

  It was definitely the study. A large oak desk dominated the room. He casually cast an eye over some of the correspondence on the desk. Nothing that could be used to blackmail someone.

  Eira had already begun rifling through some of the drawers.

  At Quinn's suggestion she started knocking the bottoms of the drawers to see if there was a false bottom.

  Quinn looked over the room. A fireplace on the right of the room had a small fire going. He reasoned that Lord Cassian planned to spend some time in the study later.

  Over the fireplace, a large painting of Lord Cassian in full military gear leered down at him.

  He whispered to Eira to help him move it. Surely he was not so arrogant to hide it behind a painting of himself? But then who has a painting of their self in their own study?

  They unhooked the painting, brought it away from the wall and laid it on its side. Quinn’s heart beat faster as he took a closer look. He sighed with disappointment. There was nothing there. He brushed his hand against the wall in disbelief. He was sure he had the measure of Lord Cassian. Peering closer, he realised there was a fine line in the wall forming a square. Pushing his hand onto it, he heard a click, and the part of the wall sprung open. There was a small safe built inside.

  It was locked by a puzzle lock. Quinn stared at it, having never seen one before.

  Eira had. Her father’s safe had a similar lock and she had spent many hours in her youth trying to find out what her father had locked away. Realising she was snooping her father moved the papers elsewhere but kept the safe as a game between them. He would hide books for her to read inside and she would only be able to read them if she figured out the latest combination. She moved forward, and gently slid some of the puzzle blocks across.

  There was a loud clunk before the whirring of cogs. The door swung open.

  They wasted no time in pulling out the sizeable pile of papers. They had no idea what they were looking for and time was not on their side.

  Quinn put aside his half of the pile. “Nothing.” He looked up at Eira, who was white with horror.

  “I've found it!” She gasped. Quinn moved quickly behind her. He read over her shoulder.

  “I don't see it.” He was confused.

  Eira pointed at the words on the paper, a very old piece of paper.

  “This proves our most prestigious ancestor to be a fraud. With this paper, Lord Cassian can cast my entire family down into the dust. Our lands and fortune would be forfeit.

  Quinn wasted no time in grabbing the paper from her and throwing it into the fire. He smiled. “Now he can't.”

  They hurried, stuffing the papers back into the safe. As they finished lifting the painting back into place, Eira suddenly froze.

  A large black beetle had scurried up her hand, pincers flexing. She stifled a scream. Quinn looked at her.

  “It's just a beetle.” He moved to flick it off her hand.

  “No! Don't!” She gasped. “It's a death beetle.”

  “A what?”

  “A death beetle. Dark Magic. One hasn't been used for centuries as they were outlawed by the Witches Guild.”

  “Then how do we get rid of it?”

  The study door burst open to reveal a livid Lord Cassian.

  He closed the door behind him, and locked it.

  Quinn moved a step, hand on his sword. Lord Cassian held out a hand and wagged his finger. He smirked. “One more step, and she dies.”

  Quinn settled for glaring at him instead.

  Lord Cassian whipped off their masks. “So, Lord Framwich, and...” He stared at Eira. “Lady Eira Winsworth, if I'm not mistaken.” He waved over her hair. “I think I liked you better brunette.”

  He sat casually in his desk chair. He leaned forward, chin resting on his folded hands. “Except I strongly suspect you are not really Lord Framwich.”

  Quinn stayed silent.

  Lord Cassian' smirk grew wider. “Perhaps you are some handsome looking man Lady Winsworth bewitched into helping her?”

  Quinn turned to Eira. She looked down at the floor.

  Lord Cassian laughed. “Didn't know she was a witch then? Thought you had fallen in love? Thought you would do anything for her?” He stood and leaned over to Quinn, speaking in a low tone. “Thought you would die for her?”

  Eira shook
her head silently, tears slipping down her cheeks.

  Quinn met her look with a hollow stare, eyes raging with the storm of heartbreak. She had never really trusted him.

  He snapped his attention back to Lord Cassian.

  “How delightful.” Lord Cassian circled them. “You really thought you were being the hero, saving your fair maiden. How arrogant of you to assume you could rummage through my study undetected by me. If did not have guests, I would have been here to apprehend you before you defiled my study.” He clapped his hands, and pointed to Quinn. “As you enjoy acting the part of a nobleman you will perform in my latest play- I will even let you play the part of the love struck dashing hero.” He waved his hands in the air, caught up in the magnificence of his plan. “Your lady fairest here will be forced to watch.”

  Quinn looked puzzled.

  Lord Cassian laughed. “The play is a tragedy. I will play the dashing anti-hero. We will duel. There will be a tragic accident on stage, the duel all too real. You will die. And your lady fairest will have to marry the anti-hero, heartbroken over the loss of her true love.” He leaned in towards Quinn. “If you refuse to take part or if I happen to lose the duel, I will have men at the ready who will slit her throat.”

  Eira whispered. “The witches at the Guild will have sensed your use of a death beetle. You won't get away with this!”

  Lord Cassian truly laughed then, bending almost double. He straightened. “I control the Witches Guild.”

  Eira looked at Quinn. “Please, don't do this!” She pleaded. “I didn't tell you because I was afraid you wouldn't trust me, or treat me like any other normal person.” Eyes shining, she looked up at him. “Let me die instead.”

  Quinn gave her a sad smile. “I understand, truly. But I will not let him kill you. I would rather die.”

  Lord Cassian grinned. “Oh, you will.”

  Quinn glared at him. “What is with all the theatrics? If you are going to kill me then what is the point of making a big show of it? Are you so big headed that you need to be the centre of attention even when committing murder?”