One's Own Shadow (The Siúil Book 2)

by Randall P. Fitzgerald

  Rianaire bolted up, slapping her hands on the table. “Inney!”

  Inney’s cloak ruffled and a hole the size of a pea formed in the woman’s head, forcing an untidy spray out the back as it exited. The servants screamed first, and then the man, higher than the girls who were there. The woman only slumped in the chair, the twitches still left in her shaking the fat of her face.

  Rianaire’s face was a snarl of anger and disgust. The doors opened and four guards flooded in. She held up a hand to them and they stopped. She looked at the man, who was busy emptying his stomach onto the plate.

  “You. Look at me.” He did, terror in his eyes. “Drag that fat, fetid corpse from my city with your own two hands and return it to your Regent. Tell her if she should be found anywhere near the keep that Aerach once walked, I will peel the skin from her flesh and show her to the salt mines.” He stared at her, shaking uncontrollably, vomit dripping down his chin and onto his velvet suit. “Go!”

  The man jumped and began to flee the room. But she called after him.

  “Do not think you will be allowed to leave without the trash you’ve left in my dining hall.” She turned to the horrified servants behind the table. “Do not allow him his horse or his coat. And relieve them of any funds they have brought. Give the lot of it to whoever has need of it.” She looked again to the man. “You will find your way home, I’m sure. After all, your Regent is so kind and resourceful.”

  She turned and stormed from the hall, Inney at her heels. It all built and built on itself, she thought in frustration. Her fond memories of the past turned to darker ones. The years after her mother had died. They were bloody, filled with much of what she faced now. Complacent elves, sure of their place in the world and uninterested in proving themselves worthy of it. They lacked the hunger Gadaí spoke of in that alehouse. A satyr was more fit to stand in the place these elves proclaimed themselves to. The Sisters must have been weeping to see it.

  It was the satyr’s quarters she found herself standing before, still seething from the stupidity of her people in the face of their own undoing. Faces had sure not been so smug and cynical in Theasín. But she had a solution to such problems. A sure way to know that blood would be spilled before the horsefolk ever put the first hoof to Spéirbaile soil.

  She knocked and Gadaí opened the door, welcoming her in. Rianaire sat in the chair, tapping at the arms and Gadaí moved to the bed, sitting on it though the thing was too short. Five minutes passed in silence.

  “… Rianaire?” The satyr’s voice was broken and horrible in her ears. Rianaire played her next steps over in her mind, seeing to every loose end she could imagine and beginning again.

  “Gadaí… I have decided.”

  Gadaí cocked her head.

  “Until Eala is fit to the work, you will be my Binse of War.”

  Gadaí laughed. “The elves will never allow it.”

  “The elves get no say. And they will come to accept it.”

  “And why will I? They will kill me. Kill us.”

  Rianaire leaned forward in the chair, her expression serious and her voice flat. “Does that scare you so?”

  Gadaí stopped her smiling. “You are challenging my pride. Clever. I understand it.” She thought on it a moment. “And when Eala is ready? What of me?”

  “You will be given property and a home in any place you wish. And gold enough to live out your days.” Rianaire stood from the chair. “Beyond that, you may do as you like. Stay among my court as Eala’s advisor. Find some elf man to kidnap and fall deeply in love with. The same for your children, should you have any somehow.”

  A rolling, lyrical series of chirps sounded in Gadaí’s throat. “I am past the breeding age and well past any interest in such pleasures and all of my children have gone before me to the dirt. But I will do this thing. I will be this Binse.”

  Rianaire clapped once, but felt no satisfaction in the problem she knew she’d solved. “Good. Then we will have a wonderful celebration to welcome you to your post. I have had near enough as I can stand of serious faces and constant meetings.” She paused at the door, Inney pulling it open. “Tomorrow, then. A dinner feast and wine until we can no longer stand it.”

  In the hall, Inney walked beside her. Rianaire could feel an awkward tension from her.

  “Say what you will, Inney. I will always hear you, even if I do not like what you say. You must keep me honest that way.”

  Inney stopped in the hall and Rianaire turned to her.

  “I worry what will happen. I do not doubt you…”

  “Oh? You are the only one.”

  The half-Drow shook her head. “I see the reason in what you do. Perhaps because I have no attachment to the elves, and no reason to fear Gadaí… but how will you make them see? All the others?”

  Rianaire drew a breath and let it out slowly. “Do you remember the alehouse?”

  Inney nodded.

  “Those people… they are the ones who care for their lives. Not their station or their comfort, but that, when tomorrow comes, they wake and draw breath as they did before. Whatever they lose or gain, that will be the most precious thing to them.” Rianaire took Inney by the hand, and swung her around, dancing in the silence of the hallway. “Those are the people I serve from this place above them. The others, they will all kick against the current only when they fear the lessening of their status or comfort.” She dipped Inney and kissed her, pulling her back and waltzing again down the empty, quiet hall. “You see, when a mage may become a simple soldier or a farmer may become a Binseman… then they show themselves for what they are. Wolves who have become comfortable in the skin of a sheep because the shepherd keeps them safe and keeps them fed.” She spun Inney away and brought her back, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. “I do not tend wolves, Inney. Nor do I intend to start.”

  U

  Aile

  She refused to sleep, though the girl they sent time and again implored her to. She was sitting in front of Aile again, rambling as she always did. Aile watched her through cautious eyes. They no longer opened the cell door and she assumed they had given up on keeping the poison behind her ears. The girl said it had been her doing. She’d insisted to someone called Tramman, a Drow name, that it was bad to make her have it on if Aile did not like it. They still did not know her name.

  “He was hesitant but I convinced him. It isn’t right, I said. Not right for you to be so upset by it. Not when you are so beautiful as you are.” The girl was mending clothes. She did not so much as look up at Aile as she talked, except when she felt she’d made an especially good point. “Everyone agreed, you know? That you were a true beauty. Oh, I just know you are the most beautiful in the whole of the Blackwood. Such luck for you to come to us as you have. I wish they wouldn’t keep you in this cage as they do. You should see what we have built, our beautiful home here. The trees are not the same, I’ve heard, but we have made it as much like home as we could.” The elf talked nonsense, as they all seemed to. “So many happy families. I do not have one yet, but Tramman promises me I will, one day he says.”

  It was nearing night and though there had been no talk of any ceremony like the one from the day before, she did not relish the idea of being in another. The bars were set deep into stone at the ceiling and floor and she’d been left nothing to pick the lock. She’d made an attempt to shape the pestle into something more usable, but the rock was too given to breaking. There was a crate at the far end of the cellar, but it was unlikely to bring her any measure of use at that distance. Were her clothes and her knives not completely destroyed by this point, Aile expected they were either in the crate or stored some place. Likely being come upon by insane elves for reasons beyond imagining.

  Aile stood and the girl stopped sewing to watch as she moved from the pad to the edge of the cell. She looked at Aile as a child might watch its mother pull her breast for milking, cur
ious and enthralled. An idea occurred to her.

  “What is your name, elf?” She made her voice soft, insipid as she imagined elves liked. “I wish to know.”

  The girl dropped her work and came to her feet, rushing to the bars. “You do? You mean it?”

  “Of course, you seem… kind.”

  “My name… it’s… Inre.” Her head fell. “It is an elf name. Not very pretty, I know. I wish I had another. A Drow name. Tramman told me it would be rude to throw away my elf name.”

  “Tramman?”

  “He leads us! He is very wise. He was born among the Drow, and knows all there is to know about your people! He was named a King, even! That is why we have this place!”

  Another elf. Madness must attract madness. “Well, he has the wrong of it about names, kind Inre. A Drow name is a special thing. It must be given to you by a Drow.”

  “Oh! Is that why he has a name as he does?”

  “It is the only way he could have such a special thing, darling elf.” The tone of her own voice made Aile feel sick. “Since you have been so kind to me, thought of me as you do. To feed me, to keep my ears so clean… no, I mustn’t.”

  The elfgirl could hardly contain herself. “Mustn’t? Oh no, please. Please tell me. I am very good with secrets! I’ve never told one! Not one! And I have at least a dozen. A dozen I’ve never told!”

  “Well…”

  “Please! Please, oh, please!”

  Aile feigned a look around the room and crouched, motioning the girl to do the same. “If you promise to tell no one, I could…” She looked again. “I could give you a Drow name.”

  Aile thought the child would faint. She went bright red and nearly began to shake. “Could I? Could you?”

  “I could. Now, it must be our secret. Tramman may not like it if you have a name as he does.”

  She nodded eagerly.

  “Then, from now, I shall call you Awin. And you must call me by name. I am Dhone.”

  The girl stood, pacing excitedly, repeating the two names. “Awin, Dhone, Awin, Dhone.”

  “Now please, Awin… a Drow name is a very special name. You mustn’t give mine to anyone.”

  She rushed back to the cage. “I would never. Never ever.”

  A bell rang outside.

  “Oh!” The girl turned at the sound and then back to Aile. “I must go and prepare dinner. I will prepare yours special. It will be the most delicious you’ve ever had.” She beamed with pride. “Please wait for me, Dhone.”

  The newly named Awin nearly forgot her mending work, having to turn back to grab it. She bounded up the stairs, awkwardly singing another old Drow lullaby as she went. The sun was up when the door to the cellar opened. Aile paced in the cell. This Tramman might understand what she meant to do better than the girl. It was a risk, especially with her Fire still buried beneath some invisible weight left in her by the drugs. She could feel it in flickers only a time or two in as many hours, neither time able to hold it still.

  The cellar opened again and Aile watched it with steely eyes. The sound on the stair was light and energetic. The girl again, her Awin, her newfound friend. Aile stood as she came down, waiting to be sure the girl was alone. The cellar door closed.

  “Oh, Awin, I’d missed you.” A chipper sound came out of her. It felt unnatural.

  “Dinner was hard to prepare. The deer was not yet skinned and then someone punctured the guts. We were forced to wash it again. Oh I’m so sorry. I missed you as well, Dhone. I have so much that I wish to ask you.”

  The elf offered one of the plates through the slot in the door. It had a wooden spoon, the venison already cut to bite size. It looked the same as the girl’s and did not smell suspect.

  “You can ask me anything you like. I have so many questions as well!” Aile sat down as she imagined elves did, bouncing more than was needed.

  “Oh, I’m so glad. I worried we would not be friends, like the others. They become so interested in their chosen. In the marriage partners. I do not like the ceremony, Dhone, but it is how marriages are made in the Blackwood.” She frowned, scooping some deer and putting it to her mouth.

  “Others, you said? There are other Drow here?”

  She nodded, speaking with her mouth full. “One for each of us. Well, nearly. Tramman says he must grow his Kingdom slowly. The elves outside will not understand, he says. It is why he runs the inn. People who wish to join us will know it and come there, he says. I am happy they have come. Drow… they are much more beautiful than us, in every way. They are so kind and intelligent. I wish I could go and see the Blackwood for myself.”

  Aile pretended not to hear the words, but kept them in her mind. There was an instability in the minds of the people here, but the girl was a different case somehow. Aile could not quite place the feeling.

  “You had questions for me, you said?”

  “Oh, yes! So many! Oh! The first! Why do you carry so many knives?”

  “It is dangerous for us. As your Tramman says, we are misunderstood. I have to protect myself, you understand?”

  “I do!” Awin was emphatic. “Elves are so stupid! So many superstitions! It would be better to never have to see them. Never ever!” The words were a small fit that the elf seemed to snap out of all at once. “What is your favorite color?”

  “Green. As your eyes. It is why I knew I could trust you.”

  The girl opened her mouth again, in awe. She seemed so willing to believe nearly anything Aile let fall out of her mouth, no matter how insane it might seem.

  “I… can trust you, can I not?”

  Awin pushed her plate aside and came close to the cell, grabbing desperately at the door. “You can, Dhone. You can and again and again. I swear it by Aile’s name. I would never betray you. I love you.”

  “And I love you, Awin. I knew there was a special bond for us! Aile must have chosen us to meet this way.”

  “Yes, yes! I thought so too! From the moment I saw you! She put us together in this place! I knew it!”

  Aile looked around again, pretending to be nervous. “Could… could we share another secret? You must promise. Promise me you will never tell it. You are the only one I can tell. I need you, Awin.”

  If the elf could have pressed herself through the bars, she likely would have. “Yes, oh, yes, Dhone. Please tell me. I must hear it.”

  “I am a princess.”

  Awin gasped.

  “I was bound for Abhainnbaile to speak on behalf of my father. He is a mighty King, Awin. He wishes us to have peace and wished to help against the horsefolk!”

  Aile could not imagine a more ridiculous thought. No King of the Blackwood would ever send so much as a malformed fetus to the aid of the elves.

  “Oh no! And we have you here in this cell!”

  Aile nodded. “He will be most cross. And I must go back to him Awin. If…” She paused.

  Awin shook with anticipation. She could hold herself no longer. “If, if, if?!”

  “If I… took you with me, together. He might show mercy on my captors. He would surely let you stay with me there, forever.”

  The elf fell back onto her arse, knocking the plate she’d left and spilling it onto the cellar floor. Her eyes had gone to some other place and her mouth hung open, motionless. “To… to… you mean… I…”

  “It is only a small Kingdom. We have little. But you would be welcome. Like a sister.”

  “A sister… the Blackwood…”

  “Awin?”

  She shook her head clear and came back to the bars. “I… how… how can I help you? Now? Can we go now?”

  “No. Kings are jealous. Very jealous. You must wait until they are all asleep and come to release me. Are there keys?”

  She nodded excitedly. “Yes, yes. Tramman and those two…” She turned her head toward the door. “They get cros
s when I don’t listen to them, but they sleep heavy. I know, I snuck in for tricks one night.”

  “Tricks? I do love tricks!”

  “Oh, me too. Dhone, I love you, I love you. We will go tonight?”

  Aile nodded. “We will, Awin. When everyone sleeps, come and let me from the cell. We will steal away before they wake. Oh!” She put her hands to her cheeks as stupidly as she’d seen elves do so many times when they remembered some not-at-all bad piece of information. “But my coin.”

  Awin made a troubled face. “Tramman has it. He has it all. And he does not sleep heavy like the others.”

  “Do not worry, Awin. My beautiful, kind Awin. We will find a way. So long as we are together.”

  “Yes, yes!” Awin put her hand through the bars and Aile took it in her own and kissed it. The girl shuddered in delight from the gesture. She squealed and pulled the hand to her chest. “Together, together.”

  Awin turned, scrambling past the plate, leaving it where it stood. Aile called to her.

  “Awin.” The girl stopped dead and looked. Aile held a finger to her lips. Awin mimicked the gesture, grinning feverishly, and then left.

  Aile took the plate and threw it out into the cellar. There was a horrible taste in her mouth which had nothing to do with the food. She could scarcely believe the conversation had gone as it had. There was now naught to do but wait and see what came of those empty words. If they did not work this night, then perhaps the next.

  Another sleepless night began to stretch itself out. The lack of food had become more of a bother than the rest. The time passed slowly, her Fire nudging itself around in her mind but still not willing to come to her hands. She was rubbing at the stiffness that remained in her muscles when she heard the quiet creaking of the cellar door and waited for footsteps. If the girl had been caught, they likely came to punish her.