I sat up and saw his reflection in the water. “Lochlan? Can you see me?”
When he heard my voice, he fell back on his haunches. “Acushla,” he breathed. “Am I dreaming?”
Fat tears rolled down my cheeks. “No,” I said, gently touching his reflection with the tips of my fingers. “You’re not dreaming.”
“I don’t…” he swallowed. “How are you doing this? How am I seeing you?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I have no idea.”
“Are you all right? Searly, is he with you?”
“Yes,” I said. He’s here. And he is fine. We’re both fine.” I looked up, afraid someone might come through the door. “Lochlan, we’re in Shadowland. I don’t think we can get out on our own.”
“I know where you are. I am in Faery. I’m coming to get you. Don’t do anything. Wait for me to find you.”
I nodded. “All right. Hurry, Lochlan. Please hurry.”
He reached out his hand like he wanted to touch my face, and then drew it back like all the times before. “I will.”
I stared up at the ceiling, trying to blink the tears away. I didn’t want him to see me upset. I needed to be strong for him.
“Elin?”
“Hmm?”
“Where are your clothes?”
“What?!” I brought my arms to my chest in a blur, water splashing over the side of the tub.
Arwyn opened the door. “Elin, are you all right?”
I gaped down at the water, Lochlan’s reflection was gone. My heart sank. I covered my face with my hands and quietly choked down the sobs. “Nothing is w-wrong. I’m fine.”
For a long moment, neither she nor I spoke. Then she peeled back the canopy. With sympathetic eyes, she held out a large drying cloth. “Let’s get you dried off and dressed. Then you can eat and I’ll take you to see Searly. How’s that sound?”
I nodded. “Thank you,” I said, my voice sounding thin and small.
A floor-length dress that widened at the waist with the same long, flowing sleeves as hers had been white when I stepped into it. However, after she helped tie the laces in the back, I glanced down to smooth it out and let out a gasp. The dress was now blue.
“What’s happening?” I asked, slightly hysterical.
Arwyn said with a twinkle in her eye, “The dress wants to be blue.”
“The dress wants to be blue?”
“Yes.”
Immediately I began removing the dress. I wasn’t comfortable with a dress that made decisions on its own.
Arwyn giggled and it sounded like the tinkling of wind chimes. “Don’t take it off.”
“Arwyn…”
“The dress wants to be blue. Haven’t you ever wanted to be blue?”
“No.”
“Relax,” she said, trying to abate her amusement. “It’s a dress, nothing more. I assure you. This is Faery,” she said like that explained everything. “You should expect the unexpected.”
“I have small memories of my time in Faery when I was a child,” I said, jutting my chin forward. “Most of it, admittedly, I still have trouble remembering. But I do not recall my dresses making their own decisions.”
Her blue eyes sparkled with mirth. “To be fair, this is Shadowland, and magic works differently here.”
“I see that.”
She pointed to the food by the window. “You should eat.”
No, I should find a different dress.
She gently touched my arm. “I promise the dress is just a dress.”
I continued to glare at it with suspicion.
“You’ll get used to it. You’ll get used to a lot of things while you’re here.”
“I’m not sure I want to.”
“Come on,” she nudged me forward. “Don’t think about it too much. Here, have some fruit.”
I walked toward the table like a petulant child. Assorted meats and fruit were aplenty and impossible for me to eat by myself. “Have you eaten?” I asked.
She waved her hand noncommittally. “I had a little something earlier.”
“Get over here,” I said in a voice that left no room for a squabble. “Help me eat this. It’s too much for only one.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t know what you liked so I brought a little of everything.”
I had started to take a bite of fruit and paused.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. “Something wrong?”
“No. I…” I stared at the abundance of food before me. “I haven’t known many people who would go through this much trouble for me.” Only four, I could count them on one hand: Mother, Father, Searly, and Lochlan. And two of them were dead. I bit into the melon and swallowed the tears.
She placed her hand over mine. “I have to admit to being a bit selfish. I know you are here against your will, and I am truly sorry for that, but I couldn’t help feeling glad to finally have someone to talk to.” She removed her hand. “Does that make me terrible?”
I shook my head. “No, that doesn’t make you terrible. Is there truly no one else here?”
Arwyn bit into a strawberry. “No one like you and Searly.”
“But you’re here.”
She dropped her head. “Yes. I am.” She looked up and stared into the gloomy dust covered window.
I lost my appetite then. There was such loneliness in her eyes. The sparkling blue had lost its luster and the only thing making them shine now was the sadness that threatened to spill.
I forced myself to eat a little more though, because Searly was right, I did need to eat. When we finished and had our fill, she said, “Ready to see your friend?”
“Yes,” I said, blotting at my mouth with a cloth.
Together, she and I walked down a hallway where shadows skulked along the edges of the walls on both sides, as if they were listening and following. I couldn’t help the shiver that scuttled down my spine. “What are those?”
She linked her arm through mine and said, “Creatures of darkness and gloom. Wars have been going on in Faery for eons. Dark and Light Fae battling each other, enlisting the courtless to fight in their wars, sometimes forcing them to choose sides, killing them if they refuse.” Arwyn’s eyes grew dark as she spoke, her jaw tightening and flexing.
“There was a battle some time ago not too far from here. The Light Fae had beaten the Dark Fae back so far into the Dark Fae’s territory that it was just a matter of time before the Light Fae would declare victory. The Dark Fae knew if they lost that battle it would be over for them, so they fought hard and they fought dirty.”
We turned left at the end of the hallway, and I noticed the shadows didn’t follow. Arwyn continued speaking, either not noticing or not caring. “The battle was so bloody, the clashing of swords so loud, the power of magic so ruthless, that Faery—cracked, and the layers between Faery and the Underworld ripped open. Thus, Shadowland and all that it is came to be, born of chaos, greed, and magic. Although Shadowland exists within the context of Faery, it is its own realm that neither court deigns to dabble in.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because the land here is…confused. Imbalanced, unpredictable.” She looked at me from the corner of her eye. “Your powers will be different here, Elin. What you could do before, you will no longer be able to. However, you’ll discover that you’ll be able to do other things.” Something devilish moved across her face. “Like this morning.”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I heard you talking to someone. Did you see a reflection in the water?”
I clamped my mouth shut, unsure if I should admit such.
She paused and turned to face me. “I’m not trying to get information. I want to explain why it happened, if it happened.” She winked and linked her arm through mine again to resume our walk. “It’s a communicative power by way of reflection. Any reflective surface will do. Still water, a pool of blood, a shiny blade. All you have to do is think about who you want to communicate with and as long as the recipient i
s near a reflective surface, the line of communication is open. However, they can choose to ignore or respond, of course.”
That would certainly explain what happened.
“Thank you,” I said. “That’s very helpful.”
She grinned playfully. “Yes, I thought perhaps it would be.”
When we made it to the top of the staircase, I stopped. “What does Zeph intend to do with me, Arwyn? Do you know?”
She frowned. “He still hasn’t told you.” It was a statement, not a question.
“No.”
“Elin, you are–”
“Arwyn!” Zeph said.
Arwyn and I whirled in surprise. Zeph’s expression was tight as he stalked toward us, his cold, hard eyes, boring into Arwyn’s. I didn’t miss the imperceptible shake of his head as he neared.
“His timing could use some work,” Arwyn mumbled under her breath. Then she plastered on a fake smile. “Zeph.” She bowed. “I was taking Elin to the library to see her friend.”
“Were you now?” he asked, his jaw twitching. He slid his eyes to mine. “I believe I’ll take it from here.” He attempted to smile, but it was as brittle as dry leaves.
I stared back, pretending to be unaffected, but his icy stare had chilled me to the bone.
Arwyn stiffened and raised her head. “Of course.” She turned to me. “Elin, let me know if you need anything.” She pulled me in for a hug and whispered, “We’ll talk later.” She shouldered past Zeph. “I guess I’ll see everyone at dinner?”
“Of course,” Zeph said, catching her by the arm in a bruising grip. “We will also talk later.” His tone was clipped, his body drawn as tight as a bow.
She glowered back, her nostrils flaring, and then her eyes flashed to the hand that held her arm. He let her go, something uneasy passing through his features. Without comment, she walked away, though not before I saw the sparkle of a tear in her eye.
When she rounded the corner, he turned his focus back to me. The shadows from before slithered along the edges of the wall and advanced toward us like mud-thick fog moving in from the sea.
“Let this be a warning to you,” Zeph said, creeping closer. “Do not ask questions you truly do not want the answers to. I assure you, Elin, you do not want to know the answer to that question.” The cruelty in his eyes, the hard set of his jaw, and the maliciousness in his tone made my heart thunder against my breast. I looked away, not wanting him to see my fear.
“Do not worry,” he said. “I will tell you at a time when it is I who wants you to know and not a moment sooner. However, here’s a secret I am willing to share, luv.” He bent to my ear and lowered his voice, his breath hot on my neck. “You are only alive because you are of use to me.” The blunt tip of his finger touched my cheek and moved down to the underside of my chin, tilting my face up toward his. “And the only reason your precious monk is still alive is because I have allowed it. Do not give me a reason to kill him.”
I swallowed thickly, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling.
“You weren’t afraid of me at our last gathering. How about now, luv? Do I frighten you now?”
I nodded.
“Good. Your fear will keep you alive.” He stepped back and I drew in a breath. “The library is down the steps, to the right, and behind the large oak doors at the end of the corridor.”
Zeph turned to go, disappearing into the shadows.
Searly had been pawing at the slip of parchment in his hands for what seemed like an eternity. He read and reread the ink on the page, turning and twisting each line into something he could dissect. The longer he stared at it, the more his confusion grew.
He slapped his hand down on the scarred table, exhaled an exhausted breath, and shook his head. According to his note, Thaddeus had thought Lochlan’s curse was written within a cleverly disguised omen. Searly had never understood the entirety of the curse or why it was written in such a way. What did he know about writing curses? He thought perhaps it was to keep someone from being able to break it, which seemed logical since no one had been able to do so. If it was an omen, then what did it mean? And why hide it within the context of the curse?
Frustrated, he stood and paced the length of the long wooden table stationed at the center of the room. Rows and rows of shelves stretched from floor to ceiling. Ladders were fitted into the bookcases that could be rolled from one end to the other. However, he had yet to see what kind of books this library held. Admittedly, he was apprehensive. Zeph had been so gracious in granting him access that he had to suspect it was a ploy. Zeph had to be playing games. But what kind of games, and what were the stakes?
Searly pulled at his cowl, feeling suffocated by it, only to determine it wasn’t his cowl that made him feel like he was breathing sand. It was the library itself, like it had been shut up for centuries only to be opened again by his hand. Dust motes floated in the pale beams of light that managed to seep through the grime of unkempt windows. He could taste the staleness on his tongue, feel the grit of it on his skin, but if he concentrated, he could also smell the tangy scent of ink and leather. To him, it was the smell of knowledge and wonder. Or as he often called it, the breath of God.
If the breath of God can find me here then I am not alone.
He stopped pacing and set about wiping off tables and straightening chairs, opening windows and lighting lanterns. If he was going to be a prisoner within this keep, then he would make the most of it and let the breath of God whisper the secrets he wished to learn.
The sweeping sound of the thick oak door opening drew his attention toward the front of the library. Elin entered, and upon a quick inspection, she appeared well and rested. He breathed a sigh of relief. As she made her way toward him he couldn’t help smiling at the lass. Her blue dress twinkled as she walked and her ivory skin glimmered like the pale glow of the moon.
Radiant was what he thought of her.
However, as she neared, Searly’s smile slipped, for hers looked out of place. Maybe not in an obvious way, but for him, it was like a book placed on the wrong shelf.
“What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
She didn’t stop walking until she walked right into his arms. She sighed against his chest, the tension releasing from her shoulders.
“I am so glad you’re here, Searly.”
“Aye,” he said, pulling back to look at her. “But I can see something else is troubling you. What is it?” A slight tremble ran through her. “Did Zeph do something, say something to upset you?”
She stepped out of his embrace. “I don’t want to talk about Zeph.” Her eyes flitted around the expansive space. “Every room in this place feels like a grave, doesn’t it? Like where hope comes to die.”
Searly had to laugh at that. “Aye. Let’s pray for a resurrection.”
Elin’s laugh was sudden, yet hopeful. “Yes…let’s.”
Just like that, Elin seemed to move past whatever had been troubling her.
“Would you like to help me?” He pointed to the table. “One of my fellow brothers had helped me with a bit of research on Lochlan’s curse.”
“Oh?”
Searly pulled out a chair and waited for her to take a seat. “Aye.” He settled in beside her, sliding the slip of parchment toward her. She picked it up and read aloud:
When what is blue turns red, your child will bring man to his knees in sorrow
For they will not see the light of tomorrow
Let it be so until the mountains move and the rivers shiver.
As soon as what’s been shrouded is revealed, all wicked souls will quiver
A refusal shall mark an age of tranquility
And the restoration of balance shall bring forth a remedy
“What is this?” she asked.
“It is Lochlan’s curse. It is also, we believe, an omen.”
“What does it mean?”
“That, my dear, is an excellent question. Since we are obviously confined to being here, I was hoping you
wouldn’t mind helping me find the answer.” He gestured toward all the books. “Perhaps being in Faery we’ll discover something we weren’t privy to before. Yes?”
Elin sat up straighter. “Yes. I would love to help you. Thank you for asking.”
Searly patted her hand. “Time to find answers.”
They had been poring over books for hours with little success. They weren’t even sure what they were looking for. What did one look for when searching for answers to a curse/omen in a magical land created by magical beings in a war that made Faery crack? When Searly put his thoughts into words he laughed out loud. Humorlessly, of course. There was certainly nothing funny about any of this.
“Having much luck?” Arwyn asked, stepping inside the library.
Elin and Searly looked at each other, scowls on their faces.
“No,” Elin said, defeated.
“You’ve only just begun,” Arwyn chirped optimistically. “Perhaps tomorrow will bring different results.”
For some reason that only irritated Searly further. He had been looking for years. Although, Arwyn was right. There was always hope in tomorrow. Sometimes, it was just incredibly hard to stay positive in light of how dire things seemed to be. Still, he would certainly try.
He put on a smile. “Indeed, Arwyn. Indeed.”
Her enthusiasm waned as she lowered her eyes and fidgeted with her dress.
“Something the matter?” Elin asked.
“I have been sent to–uh–bring you to the hall for dinner.”
Elin steeled her spine. “Zeph playing the part of a host, I presume? How ridiculous.”
Arwyn spoke with softness, avoiding commenting further other than to say, “Best we make haste. The longer we dawdle the longer we prolong the inevitable.”
Irritation flooded over Searly once more. “Very well, then. Lead the way.”
The journey to the hall where Zeph awaited them was dark and dreary, and Searly wondered why dark and dreary no longer affected him as it once had. Could one get used to dreariness? Or did one merely learn to live with it?
“May I ask you a question, Arwyn?” Elin asked.
“Certainly.”
Searly concentrated on the swishing of their silk skirts sliding along the floor while they walked, anything to keep his mind focused on what he could discern rather than on the oppressiveness that squeezed his chest like a fist around a piece of fruit. Even though the sconces were lit, the darkness grew thicker as they traveled down a new wing of the keep.
The Moon Shines Red (Heart of Darkness Book 1) Page 17