Storm Unleashed: Phantom Islanders Part III

by Ednah Walters

  “Last night, he surprised me. Tonight, I’ll be ready.” What a lie. I should voluntarily turn myself in to the dungeon guards and beg them to chain me to the wall.

  “He left bruises.” Gwyn tilted my chin and made a sound of annoyance. “He must not be allowed to hurt you again.”

  Amen to that! Except I had no way of stopping him.

  “I don’t have something to cover them, but I have a salve that might make them heal faster.” She disappeared inside the washroom and returned with a container with a green gel. She spread a thin layer on my cheeks. “Do they hurt?”

  “No. I bruise easily.”

  Sounds from the bed drew our attention. The queen mother was restless again. Gwyn pushed the container with the green gel in my hand and went to calm her.

  “I’ve never seen her like this,” she murmured. “She needs the elixir, or she’ll not make it.”

  “You are so good with her. She woke up and talked to me before the shakes started. Just briefly,” I added when Gwyn looked up. “I told her the oracle did this to her, but she didn’t believe me.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She’s convinced she’s dying. That she’s been sick a long time and now that she knows Storm is okay, she can let go.”

  Tears shimmered in Gwyn’s eyes.

  I told her the other things the queen mother said but left out parts where she’d begged me to escape before Tully hurt me like he’d hurt others.

  “She called you her Gwynevere.”

  The tears brimmed and spilled down Gwyn’s face. “She hasn’t called me that in years. If only she could talk to me,” she said, staring longingly at the queen mother. “There were days when she’d sound like her old self, but those became rare over the years.”

  “She said she didn’t know where she’d be without you,” I added, laying it on thick. I wanted Gwyn to stay here. This was a chance for me to check out my escape route. Our escape route.

  Gwyn gripped the queen mother’s hand. “No, my lady. I don’t know where I’d be without you. If you hadn’t rescued me and offered me a position as your companion, I would have spent my life toiling in that little pile of dirt my family called a farm.”

  “You know how to take care of her better than I can, Gwyn, and she really wants to talk to you,” I pushed. “You also said you never leave the palace, while I know where the marketplace is. Nereus pointed it out yesterday, so I know which direction to go.”

  “I hear it’s a long walk from here, lass.”

  “I’m young, and these shoes are sturdy.” I lifted the hem of the gown to show off the boots, another pair of boots from the queen mother’s stash.

  Gwyn’s gaze volleyed between my face and her mistress. Then she sighed. “I shouldn’t even consider this. It is way too dangerous, lass. They will recognize you before you reach the gates and sound the alarm.”

  “What happens if you are caught sneaking the elixir into the palace?”

  A stricken look crossed her eyes. Yep, the Oracle would personally escort her to the dungeons to spite me. It was my decision to use the queen mother to get out of being roomies with Tully, so I had to do this.

  “While I’m gone, maybe you can convince her she’s not dying,” I said.

  Gwyn frowned. “How will you pass the guards?”

  I had an idea. The dresses Gwyn had given me from the queen mother’s chest were rich in color and made from velvet, while Gwyn wore a simple cotton kirtle and chemise. If we traded clothes, and I wore a bonnet like hers, no one would look at me twice. I’d just be another servant leaving the palace.

  I explained my plan. At first, she frowned, but she began to smile. By the time I finished, she was nodding and chuckling.

  “The guards do tend to ignore the palace workers leaving, so it might work,” she said.

  “It will work.” It had better.

  Gwyn went to a smaller chest and removed a navy blue kirtle like hers, the same one all the servants at the palace wore. I changed out of the velvet dress while Gwyn watched me with furrows between her brows. I pretended not to notice. She was starting to worry again. She braided my hair, wrapping the piece around, pinned it in the back, and added the bonnet. Next was the apron, a standard for all the female palace workers.

  “It’s cooler this early in the morning,” she added, dropping a cloak around my shoulders. “Okay, once you get downstairs, follow the south hallway past the bathroom and kitchen to the back door. It opens into a small enclosure for deliveries. Go through the side gate and around the building to get to the front gate.”

  She removed three gold coins from a pouch inside a chest. Two were the size of a quarter, but the third one was smaller. They had an image of a skinny, angry-looking man with a beard on the front and the Hy’Brasil court of armor on the back.

  “The cook said a bottle of the elixir is a groat.” She pressed the two large gold coins into my hand. “You have enough for two bottles. Cook said you’ll need a drink and something to eat by the time you get them. Half a groat should get you both from any vendor.” She gave me the smaller. “Don’t let them gyp you.”

  I nodded.

  “Unfortunately, one look at you and they’ll know you are not from here.”

  “Even when I wear this?”

  She chuckled. “Your eyes are very unusual, lass. Like Frislanders. When you get there, ask for Athol.”

  “The guards told me the same name.”

  “He owns an apothecary and is a respected healer. Buy the elixir from him. Don’t go to anyone else. They’ll sell you tea and call it medicine. At least that’s what the cook said. Wait here,” she added and disappeared outside.

  She came back smiling.

  “I sent the lads downstairs to get more wood for the fire to heat the queen mother’s bath water, so hurry and go before they return. I’ll tell them you went to explore the palace.” She hugged me. “Try to come back in one piece, lass. My lady is depending on you now.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Voices reached me before I cleared the stairs, so I ducked into the door leading to the lower roof of the palace and waited. The two guards walked past with wood, their laughter echoing in the narrow tower.

  Once they passed, I tugged the hoodie of the cloak over my head and left my hiding place. Downstairs, workers scurried past without slowing down. Regardless of whether they worked in the kitchen or took care of the rooms, they wore the same navy blue tunic, white blouses or chemises, and aprons. There were male servants in blue uniforms, then the ones in black. I had a feeling those ones were higher up the staff hierarchy. Whether dressed in blue or black, their vests and coats were not decorated with embroideries like the lords’.

  I made it past a busy kitchen without being stopped. Not that there were guards in the back rooms. In the last four days, I hadn’t met one whenever I ventured downstairs. But then again, I’d never gone past the restroom and had zero interest in exploring the rest of the palace. The sooner I left the island, the better I’d feel.

  I made it to the back entrance.

  There were empty baskets piled by the door and stacks of barrels. Images of the winery and the buttery in the Great Hall drifted through my head. Storm and the sailors carrying their loot from the ships.

  My chest tightened, and I pushed the painful memories away.

  A man and a boy carried barrels and baskets of fruit from a donkey cart when I stepped outside. The boy reminded me so much of Tommy I found myself smiling at him as I held the door open for them.

  “Do you need help carrying those? I’m strong.” I flexed an arm.

  The older man chuckled. He had a bushy beard and twinkling brown eyes. “I’m sure you are, lass, but my lad and I can manage. Thank you for holding the door. That’s a big help.”

  They placed their wares inside the door and hauled out the empty basket and barrels. Bushy Beard stopped and studied me.

  “Such unusual eyes. You must be new around here, lass,” he said. “Or I would have rem
embered seeing you before.”

  “I’m visiting my aunt who works here. I’m hoping to find a position.” The lies. Damn, I was good. That popped in my head like a daisy, but if these two got into the compound, they’d be leaving. They could be my ticket out of here.

  “You are a sight for these tired eyes, lass,” the man said, his gaze lingering on my jaw. I knew he saw the bruises there because something flashed in his eyes, but it happened so fast I couldn’t read it.

  “All I see are long faces whenever I come here,” he continued. “Don’t let them turn you into a sourpuss.”

  “They could try.” I winked at the boy.

  Gah, I missed my brother. Would he be walking by the time I made it back to Vaarda? I hoped so. By now Moria had told him about what they were, and knowing my brother, he’d roll with it. He’d loved video games with shape-shifters. Hopefully, Moria kept him away from the others, or he’d know I had been kidnapped, again. That would be too much for him.

  The boy kept shooting me side glances whenever he walked past me, until they finished.

  “Thank you, lass,” the older man said. “I hope to see your smiling face next week.”

  “You will.”

  I inched closer to the cart as they secured the barrels with a rope. Goose bumps raced on the surface of my skin despite the cloak. Thick clouds and fog hid the sun, making the day cooler than usual.

  “Where are you two headed?” I asked.

  “Back to the farm at the base of Dumha na Aine,” he said.

  “Is it, by any chance, in the direction of the marketplace by the docks?”

  “No, lass, but we’re headed that way. Then we go east,” he said. “Why?”

  “I need to buy a few things at the marketplace. Can I hitch a ride until you get to where you head east? I promise I don’t weigh much.”

  This time, even the boy chuckled.

  “Come and sit in front with me,” the father said. “The lad can sit in the back.”

  “Oh no, sir. I’ll be okay in the back. He belongs right there in front with you. I have a brother around his age, and all he ever wanted was to have a father so he could learn cool things from him.” My throat constricted. “He never got that. Our father died when he was a baby.”

  “Where are you from? You have eyes I’ve only seen among Frislanders, but you don’t speak like them.”

  Yeah, where did I come from now? I couldn’t just say Vaarda. No, maybe I should start saying Frisland. Before I could think up a response, the son whispered to the dad, and recognition flashed in his eyes.

  “You are a Tuh’ren,” the man said, lowering his voice.

  Was that going to be a problem? I couldn’t tell by studying their expressions. I nodded. Breaking into a smile, he walked to the back of the wagon, where I stood, and offered me his hand.

  “Lachlan. And that’s my lad, Muir.”

  “Lexi.” I shook his hand and gave him a sheepish smile. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Someone hurt you, lass?”

  I frowned. “No.”

  “Your face.”

  Yikes. Prince A-hole must have left a lot of his fingerprints on my skin.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It never is,” Lachlan muttered, his jaw tense. “Up you go.”

  “Thank you,” I added after he helped me onto the wagon. I moved past the loosely roped barrels to the baskets and sat. I was perfectly hidden by the barrels, and from the way Lachlan shifted the barrels, he knew exactly what I was doing.

  Taking his seat, he clicked his tongue and whipped the donkeys. The wagon rocked as they turned and headed toward the side gate. When Gwyn had said an enclosure, I’d expected a small inner court. Instead it was huge. It had wire lines with laundry on one side, a well for drawing water, and several doors leading from it. It was obviously a service entrance, and the gate looked ancient like medieval gates that were controlled from above, so it was either lifted or lowered down.

  I’d started to suspect that the queen mother’s tower had been part of an ancient castle. Tullius must have built the palace around it because the front two towers with dome roofs looked different from the two in the back.

  “How long have you been in Port Hy’Brasil, lass?” Lachlan asked.

  “Four days. I was on a different island before I was brought here.”

  “And your brother?”

  “He’s at home.” My throat tightened again.

  “We’re coming to the gate,” he said from the corner of his mouth. “Keep your head low.”

  I tucked my legs and held my breath. He spoke with the guards and even cracked a few jokes about the ride up hill from his farm and his age. At least they didn’t inspect his empty containers.

  The soft whoosh of a well-greased hinged followed as the massive gates open and closed, and I sighed with relief. First the marketplace, then a quick peek at the ships if I had time, and the trek back here. Hopefully, I would not have problems when I returned.

  The two guiding the donkeys didn’t speak for a while, so I kept quiet, too.

  “You okay back there, lass?” Lachlan asked.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  “Just Lachlan, lass. Are you in trouble?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.” But they might be my ticket out of here in a few days.

  “I’ve met Tuh’rens scared for their lives and on the run, so if you need help, we have an extra bed and place at our table. Our lands are up yonder.”

  I stood to look. He was pointing at the ridge on the hill east of the city. “The best fruit farm this side of the island, thanks to Goddess Aine. That’s why we supply the palace.”

  “I love fruit. Maybe I’ll stop by for a visit.” I sat on top of one of the barrels and got comfortable.

  He threw me a glance over his shoulder, eyes lingering on my bruises. “You sure you’re not in trouble, Lexi?”

  “Not today, Lachlan. Not yet anyway, but the day is still young.”

  He chuckled. “You are an unusual lass.”

  “Not really, but I’ve learned that laughter is the best medicine sometimes when you find yourself trapped between a rock and a hard place. Thank you for being kind. Who knows? I might need your help and come looking for you.”

  “Just ask for Lachlan Tuathanas.”

  “I will, if I ever need it. Or if I feel the urge to get some amazing fruit. Right now, I want to get to the marketplace and get an elixir from the healer Athol.”

  Lachlan chuckled. “Aah, old man Athol. He is the best. Blessed by Aine. May she always stay sweet. My lovely lass swears by his elixirs and salves. No, we’ll take you to Athol. I can pick up a few things for her.”

  As we left the palace and the large mansions with walled courtyards behind and continued downhill, Lachlan got off the main street, which seemed to be reserved for horse-drawn carriages. Instead, he used side roads, talking nonstop about his farm. He kept thanking Aine for everything.

  “Who is Aine?” I asked when he paused.

  His son threw me a surprised glance, and when Lachlan answered, there was reverence in his voice.

  “Aine is our fairy queen, goddess of love and fertility. Without her, our farms would wither and not provide us with such abundant fruits. She is as sweet as the juices she creates, but when angry, watch out. The fruit turn sour, the oceans swell, and the rivers flood our lands.Our mountain, Dumha na Aine, is named after her.”

  Swelling oceans meant change in tide. “She’s also the goddess of the moon?”

  Lachlan chuckled. “Oh, yes. And herbs and their healing powers. While her father watches over our sailors at sea, she watches over us on land. Keeping us healthy.”

  “She is Manannan’s daughter?”

  Lachlan grinned. “Aah, so you know our gods, lass.”

  “Some. Not all.”

  Talking about the gods was obviously Lachlan’s thing because he introduced me to Irish pantheon. From Danu, the Mother Earth Goddess to the Great Queen Morrigan, the supreme
goddess of war.

  I was so caught up in Lachlan’s stories, I didn’t notice the houses had grown smaller as we moved farther from the palace.

  The ones we passed were the size of those on Vaarda. And like Vaardanians, they worked on small gardens behind their houses, hung their laundry to dry, hauled water from wells strategically placed in centralized courtyards, and smiled when our eyes met. I forgot I was trying to keep a low profile and smiled back and nodded when I made eye contact.

  We joined islanders with laden donkey carts or baskets on slings hoisted on their shoulders. Almost all the women wore either a cloak or a shawl, most of them colorful and bright against their tan skin and palettes of brown kirtles. The men’s frock coats with slops or tighter breeches and vests were also plain and earth-toned. A few here and there had gold or silver embroideries, and most men wore tricorn hats. Considering how the men I’d seen at the palace looked like peacocks, fancier outfits must be a sign of wealth.

  Lachlan continued to talk about the gods. As we got closer to the marketplace, the homes had sheds and workshops with people hammering on swords and daggers, assembling furniture and hammocks, decorating pottery…

  A man working on a beautiful bow caught my eye.

  “Do people still use bows and arrows?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Lachlan said. “To hunt in the forests. There’s enough game for those who get tired of eating fish or farm animals.”

  We must have been riding for forty-five minutes to an hour when the noise warned me we were close to our destination. We turned a corner, and I saw the fenced market square. I couldn’t tell what was the loudest, the human voices or the animals—dogs, goats, pigs, cows, and donkeys. Lachlan guided his to a place where other wagons and donkeys were tied, and left his son to guard them.

  “It was nice meeting you, Muir,” I said, and his son’s cheeks grew pink. He quickly glanced away when our gazes met.

  Lachlan sighed, a resigned expression on his face. “The lad will never settle down if he continues to stammer and blush whenever a pretty girl smiles at him.”

  “He’s a handsome young man, Lachlan, so he’ll be fine. My brother had been worse.”