“Puny. Weak magic tricks,” he pronounced between bouts of laughter.
“Remove the chains,” she ordered, and when the warriors hesitated and gaped at her, she reached out with her mind and snapped the chains herself.
Ten warriors sprawled backward in the sand.
The troll leaned down until his face was in line with hers. Then he grinned. “Fun!” he declared, and took a test swipe at her.
He was a lot faster than he should have been given his size. Theo spun out of his reach, the tips of his fingers skimmed along her ribs, and she knew she’d bear the bruises for a day even with magical healing. He immediately pressed his advantage, and, though she leapt over his arm, he took out half the fence and scattered the arsenal with his second swipe. There really wasn’t enough room in the practice yard to fight someone with such strength and reach. She wondered if he would follow her if she dashed into the fields, and nearly got knocked there by his third grab. She tumbled sideways, and managed in the twist of the fall to slash her sword across the inside of his forearm.
He grunted and withdrew his arm to survey the tiny cut. His blood was red, and, as she watched from her dusty position on the ground, the wound healed without a trace.
“Sharp stick,” he observed, and then drew himself up to his full impressive height. “I, Eld, do not fight female, human. Magic or not. I, Eld, deny human dominion.”
Then he roared.
The crowd tumbled back in fear, even though it was frustration rather than rage that fueled his declaration.
Eld looked around satisfied at the general fleeing of the crowd, but then seemed disappointed that Theo had remained. “No run? No scream?” Eld asked, rather hopefully.
She laughed. She threw her head back and laughed at the entire situation. She laughed at her sulky inability to heal herself fully. She laughed at the absurdity of the warriors capturing a troll for her, and then she sobered at the thought that this troll, Eld, had probably been torn away from his life just for her … amusement.
Eld watched her. “Stop laugh? Sad now, puny female?”
“Theo. My name is Theo, and I am sorry my friends have brought you here just for me.”
“I gift?”
“Yes.” This idea seemed to amuse him, and his shoulders shook when he laughed.
“I crush human head.” He pinched his fingers, each thicker than her wrist, together to demonstrate. “I destroy building. I take my want. I more magic than weak human. I, Eld, a good gift.” He thumped his fist against his chest.
“I see,” she answered, for indeed she could see the magic in him — so different from her own, puny human magic, as he called it. His magic ran in his veins. It was him, every bit of him, rather than just highlighting one part. Magic also flowed through him up from the ground and then out again — like he was continually refueling or exchanging energy, exchanging spirit with everything around him.
“You bright little thing,” Eld said, and reached as if to pick her up.
Hugh shouted a warning. Every warrior in the keep drew a weapon, and surrounded the troll. She held up a cautionary hand to the warriors, for the troll reached for her as she would cup a candle in a breeze.
Eld wrapped his hands around her without actually touching her, and peered at her, through her, as if she was an interesting bug. “Theo, human female,” he grumbled.
“We are well met, Eld of the Trolls,” she answered, and, when she laid her hand on his wrist, she felt a bit of her magic entwine with his. It swept through her like a refreshing breeze, and she felt less burdened by the seemingly endless chaos of her mind.
“I see now, lady,” Eld acknowledged her calmed spirit. “I see you lady.”
“You are indeed a good gift, Eld.”
The troll laughed, delighted, as if it was one of his most favorite things to do but then he abruptly grew serious. ”No more Troll hunt,” he declared.
Theo looked over Eld’s wrist toward the Chancellor, who begrudgingly shrugged and then said, “No more cow stealing.”
Eld laughed like a child caught in the cookie tin, and nodded his agreement. “I go now,” he then asserted.
“Thank you, Eld.” Theo released his wrist, but remembered — somewhere deep and important — his magic, his spirit, and his flow with the world.
Eld bounded from the yard, leapt the remaining portion of the fence, and headed across the field toward the forest.
“A mighty ally,” said the Chancellor, who had moved beside her to watch Eld depart.
“No. He is not meant to be involved in human affairs. We have to find our own path.” The Chancellor stared at her for some time, but she just kept watching Eld jog away. The troll snagged a wayward sheep, stupid enough not to flee his advance, underneath a massive arm. Well, it wasn’t a cow.
The Chancellor finally turned his gaze on Hugh, who stood at her other side. “Can you take an imprint of the troll from Theodora?”
“No,” Hugh answered, probably a bit more tersely than advisable, but the Chancellor let it pass with a slight incline of his head.
“Another time perhaps. The accumulation of strength and power is only for your benefit, Hugh. Yours and Theodora’s.” The Chancellor walked away.
Theo could see the muscle on the side of Hugh’s jaw clench in her peripheral vision. “I know my duty,” he muttered.
“Perhaps too well,” she whispered back without looking at him, and then she brushed her hand against his, just enough to give him a bit of the magic she still carried from Eld. He gasped at the taste of it, or perhaps that she was able to share it at all, but gave no further indication of shock.
“There is a boy I’d like you to meet.” She changed the subject even as the power lingered between their loosed hands.
“Ah, yes. Bryan. We’ve met. I understand he is my new groom, much to the terror and chagrin of the senior grooms.”
“Who you don’t allow to tend the Beast anyway. Plus I don’t see what is so terrifying about the boy.”
“Don’t you? He wears the blessing and protection of the Lady of Light on his left cheek, what could be more terrifying?”
Once again she couldn’t quite catch Hugh’s tone. Did he think she shouldn’t have bound the boy? The child needed someone to look out for him … perhaps Hugh felt she was ill-suited to do so, but when she turned to question him, he was already in some discussion with the Commander.
She walked away from the yard. For the first time since she’d had her memory and powers restored, she felt a bit more whole in mind and body. A bit more balanced in magic.
Utterly confused about everything else, but that was nothing new. That, she was coming to understand, was living life.
∞
She’d retreated from dinner as quickly as she could politely manage, though she gathered that Hugh wasn’t so lucky.
The Chancellor had put out a summons to his many vassals, and they’d begun to arrive with any guards under their command. The Chancellor’s region, the NorthWest, was the largest in Cascadia in area, but not in population. The bulk of the residents resided along the coast and in the great city, whose port supplied over half of the country. The Aerie, situated deep within the coastal mountains, was a gathering place, not a stronghold like Hollyburn. Further to the north, and to the south of the city, farmers oversaw the bulk of Cascadia’s food supply, including tree and bush fruits, wheat, vegetables, and livestock. Each of the Chancellor’s vassals oversaw a section of the region, which usually specialized in one or more types of farming or industry, such as fishing or wine-making. They were charged with the efficient management and protection of these regions, and reported to the Chancellor, who, in turn, reported to the Apex. Even if all the vassals had many days to respond to the Chancellor’s summons, their combined force would not match that of Dougal’s elite guard, and certainly they would not be as well trained. Defending a single region from poachers was one thing. Standing against an army the size that was rumo
red to follow the Preacher was another.
Among the vassals, Theo was a novelty; stared at, but rarely engaged. So while talk floated around her of the coming uprising of the Lackings and the mysterious Preacher, no one wanted to answer questions or engage in conjecture. Even Hugh didn’t seem surprised that the Lackings would willingly leave their lives behind to follow a man Theo had only heard about a week or so ago, though his interpretation of her prophecy was not a new one. It seemed that Dougal had sheltered her from the general unrest as much as her mother.
Problem was that no one seemed to believe that the Preacher was much of a threat, and most felt that no blows would need to fall to force the Lackings back to their predetermined places.
The Chancellor remained quiet on this subject. Often, Theo caught him looking at her or at the ring she now wore on her finger. She waited for him to request to reread her prophecy, but he didn’t broach the subject. She wondered what other prophecies he’d read and interpreted. She wondered if it was that sacred knowledge that kept him cautious and silent.
The political maneuvering threatened to make her head explode, especially when it was directed toward her through Hugh or the Chancellor. When she caught herself, off a pointed looked from Hugh, twisting the ring on her finger, she excused herself.
Natalie moved about the bedroom sorting through gowns she’d spent the day sourcing and tailoring. Theo wandered out to the balcony to find that someone had placed a bench and a jasmine plant in just the perfect place to sit and revel in the mountain view. Only Hugh could have known her habit, and it was a lovely gesture. She settled on the velvet cushion and watched the stars appear over the eastern mountains. It was such a different feeling to have the sun setting behind her, to be looking into the darkness …
She kicked off her shoes to feel the stone beneath her feet. It hadn’t grown cold yet, but she did notice that the Chancellor’s spellcasters had been tapping into the magic of the castle, not to further strengthen it, but seemingly just to study it. She felt the residual presence of their magic as if it was a scratch across her sensory perception. One of these casters had attempted to approach her earlier in the evening, but was quickly sent away by the Chancellor. Theo wasn’t certain if this was for her benefit or if the Chancellor feared her corrupting his power base.
She settled these thoughts and, as Hugh had requested earlier, cast her focus out over the mountains and through the fjord. Something was there in the darkness, closer than anyone seemed to think, and moving. Was it moving?
Tomorrow. This darkness could reach them by tomorrow … though, at the same time, she had a feeling that it might already be here.
CHAPTER TWELVE
An army waited at the gates. They had arrived in the early morning, and were still in the process of setting up camp.
They flew two standards — Dougal’s and her mother’s — but this was not the darkness Theo had felt approaching last night, and that she could still feel on the edge of her perception.
The siblings had evidentially reunited. Perhaps all they needed, once more, was a common foe. Who, in this case, seemed to be Theo.
They requested a parley and the Chancellor took his time granting it. She guessed he was irritated that they refused to address their demands to him, but rather waited patiently for her to be woken, bathed, and perfectly trimmed for presentation. Natalie did something to her hair that made it twice as voluminous. It felt incredibly silly — like a mane — but Theo understood. It proclaimed her identity, or at least her heritage, to anyone in sight. Even if they couldn’t see her face or hear her voice, they’d be able to see her hair.
They assembled in the keep, just inside of the gate; her, the Chancellor on her right, Hugh on her left, and the entire guard at their backs. Everyone, except her and Chancellor, was arrayed in battle gear.
While it was the wards, rather than the physical gates, that stopped the army from storming the keep and castle, the Chancellor chose to use the opening of the gates symbolically. As they were waiting, Theo called her sword and it obligingly appeared in her left hand. As she slung the blade low over her waist, the Chancellor grumbled his disapproval of the addition to her outfit. But when she simply reminded him that it was “Rowen’s sword,” he nodded his approval.
She caught Hugh smiling at her, and noticed, over his shoulder, that he had his beast of a horse saddled and held ready against the west wall. The Beast’s reins were under the command of Bryan, who in no way could actually physically restrain the horse, so his presence was a precaution. A pleasant sort of ache shot through her chest. Hugh had provided an escape route, for her and the child, if not for him as well.
She looked up at Hugh. He winked at her and the white of his teeth flashed across the caramel of his skin, but as his attention was drawn back to the opening gates, this smile faltered and faded. She followed his gaze.
Another trio stood on the other side of the gates: Dougal, her mother, and Ren. While her mother and Dougal’s faces were impassive, Ren smoldered with anger and impatience. Beyond them, Dougal’s elite guards were arrayed to the right, while the Hollyburn guards, among whom Theo could see Davin, Corporal Georges, and Peony, were winged to the left. Looking at the size of this group, Theo imagined that Hollyburn must be completely deserted.
“How many days has it been since you brought me here?” she asked Hugh.
“This is the dawn of the sixth day.”
Six days. It would have taken at least three days to move the army from Hollyburn Castle to The Aerie. Why choose to follow her with an army, when a guard and an emissary could have made the trip in one long day?
Her mother stepped forward and she did the same, until the two trios stood with twenty strides and an invisible but powerful ward between them.
It was Dougal, rather than her mother, who spoke. “The Preacher comes at our heels.”
“Then why have you led him to our doorstep?” the Chancellor coolly sneered. “A warrior as vaunted as you, with this army, could have cut a man, magic or not, down without even mounting a horse.”
“They are untraceable,” Ren spat, revealing the main source of his anger in three words.
“Then how could you possibly know of their coming?”
Dougal and Ren turned to her mother, who hadn’t taken her eyes from Theo since the gates had opened. When her mother didn’t speak, Dougal filled the awkward silence. “There have been reports. He moves through the villages, reinforcing his numbers as he passes.”
“The Preacher,” Hugh murmured, obviously putting the title together with the action of gathering followers. Whatever he preached, it must be persuasive for people to leave their farms and trades this close to the summer season.
“Exactly. We’d had reports of his movements, which is why we moved as a company when we journeyed to Hollyburn Castle from the Midlands, but as soon as Theodora … departed, the force following her shifted. It would have been better to make the stand at Hollyburn. It has withstood far worse than a force filled with Lackings.”
“If they are so magically inept, why can you not find them?” Hugh interrupted Dougal’s assessment. “And how did they know that Theo was gone?”
Again Dougal and Ren looked to her mother, and, again, her mother didn’t take her eyes from Theo.
“They’re still tracking me?” Theo asked her mother directly.
Her mother pulled the rock she’d first seen in Ambrose’s hands out of her pocket. The red pulsing light glowed brightly in her direction.
“That is a lot of magic for a group of supposed Lackings,” Hugh reiterated.
“And seemingly blood-based. How would anyone have come by Theodora’s blood?” The Chancellor’s question was more accusatory than his simple words relayed.
“You look … whole,” her mother finally spoke, and the emotion packed into the question was palatable, but it also reminded Theo that two of the three people responsible for ripping her asunder were standing before her … an
d not to be trusted.
“I fare well,” she replied, and raised her chin a little higher.
“You are incapable of defending Theodora against such a force,” Dougal declared. “You will allow us entry.”
“We only have your word this threat is imminently arriving,” the Chancellor said.
“Theodora knows. Theodora can feel them,” her mother prompted as she replaced the stone in her pocket.
“The darkness that moves even in the daylight.” She could still feel it — what she’d felt last night, — on the edge of her perception.
“A black hole,” her mother confirmed.
“Yes.”
“You have a traitor in your force, maybe many, as evidenced by their use of Theodora’s blood.” The Chancellor was in no mood to compromise his position of power. If her mother, or even just Dougal, crossed through the wards, the Chancellor would no longer have any say. They outranked him even in his own region. The fact that he was denying them entry at all could be judged an act of rebellion, had he not had Theo at his side, and her protection as his argument.
“Can you guarantee you have none among your people?” Dougal asked; his doubt obvious. “He gathers sympathizers like rabbits breed.”
“Absolutely. We are perfectly capable of defending Theodora against a rabble of Lackings. I have called in my vassals, and Theodora herself has strengthened the wards.”
“Perfect,” Dougal growled, and glanced at Ren, who started to roll up his sleeve to reveal his mark.
Theo’s heart began to thump as Ren took one step, and then two, toward the ward dividing them.
As one, the Aerie’s warriors arrayed behind her unsheathed their swords, but the Chancellor waved them off with a smirk.
Then Ren stepped through, though not effortlessly. The ward attempted to hold him back, to reject him, but he held his mark up and fought to move forward. The process looked painful, but he did not cry out.
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