Well of Tears (Empath Book 3)

by Dawn Peers

  “Some of the rumours are true.” Quinn didn’t like the way he’d mentioned someone jumping to their death. She wondered if somehow Shiver had found out about her first crossing across the Sighs. “I can’t sense the truth—more accurately, I can tell when someone is lying. I think someone’s got their legends mixed up, and has at some point mistaken me for Indigo. I definitely don’t drink the blood of children, and I haven’t abducted anyone. Do I look capable of that?"

  Shiver laughed. “You barely look capable of abducting a kitten, let alone a human being.”

  “The rumour that I can control emotions, is true. I don’t know how to control that ability, and I don’t know how strong it is. I have been able to make people do things in limited ways.”

  Shiver stood, obviously intrigued. “Oh? What do you mean? What kind of emotion?"

  Quinn gulped. “Anger. I don’t know how to control it.”

  “Uncontrolled anger is a dangerous thing. Was it your own?”

  Quinn fidgeted. She’d gone too far with the truth now, and didn’t feel she could back down now. “In a way, yes.”

  “Perhaps you are Nerren’s daughter, after all.”

  “You haven’t actually said what you want me to do?”

  “In good time. How many of them were you? Orphans, I mean.”

  “I don’t know how many there were in total, though I heard he had other children in other cities. There were three of us in Everfell. Myself, Maertn is a healer, and still in Farn, and a little girl, Neyv.”

  “This Neyv, do you remember her? She must be the one helping Sammah, seeing as you’re not there. Maertn, this healer, were you close?”

  “We are, sire.”

  Shiver’s eyes twinkled. “Were. As you’ve been stuck on a ship I guess you haven’t heard the rumours?”

  “I’ve heard nothing of Sha’sek sire." Quinn’s heart hammered. “What rumours?”

  “Your brother Maertn is dead.”

  Quinn’s eyes went wide. Eden shouted then, and within seconds, Quinn could feel his arms around her. Her legs went from beneath her and she sagged into him. Eden held onto her tightly, helping her gently to the floor. He was whispering in her ear, but Quinn could hear nothing past the rushing of blood in her ears and the whispers of death. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

  “Father! Explain this? How do you know this is true?”

  “That’s none of your business, Eden.”

  “What proof do you have?”

  “It is not your place to question me, boy."

  “That’s her best friend! Her brother! You can’t do this to her—look at what you’ve done!”

  “She’s a Sha’sekian Eden, and I don’t care what I’ve done. Rowan, get your brother out of here. He’s clearly incapable of making decisions independent of his feelings for this girl. I will talk to him on his own later.”

  Eden protested, but Quinn didn’t react as his hands were ripped away from her. Rowan dragged his brother out of the throne room, leaving Quinn alone with Shiver.

  “I received word from the court of Sammah that he dead. How does that feel?”

  Quinn looked up at Shiver through burning eyes, and harnessing every ounce of hatred right then, she wished she could use her sight to kill him horribly, igniting the malicious king in a pillar of flame. Her breath was fast and sharp, and in the storm of emotions she felt clarity. Sammah? How would Sammah know if Maertn was dead?

  “I know what you’re trying to do.”

  “What?"

  “I can’t do it. I can’t use my ability—and even if I could, I’m not going to use it on you. You won’t get an excuse from me for you to have me executed.”

  “Dearest Quinn, that’s not what I’m trying to do. I wanted to see if you just needed to be pushed—if that’s what it took you to trigger this new ability that you claim to have no use of. You’re very impressive. I haven’t felt a single thing, so can only assume that you are still in full control of yourself. How unlike both of your fathers you are.”

  “I will never be anything like Sammah, or Nerren.”

  “You will be like Nerren, whether you like to or not. He could manipulate emotion and he started a war. If you are capable of that too, you are going to start this war Quinn—you will use your talents to kill Sammah.”

  In response to Shiver’s tirade, Quinn did the most unexpected thing: she laughed. Incensed, Shiver leapt off the dais, grabbing the girl by her shirt and hauling her to her feet. “You will not laugh at my requests! This is serious, Quinn. You know what’s at stake here—your own life is the first one on the line. You will help me kill your father and your ability will be the key to our victory.”

  Quinn cackled, her laughter reaching a fever pitch as Shiver shook her. His face looked a ridiculously bright red against the line of his bleached hair, which did not help to calm her down. Shiver howled, slapping her backhanded across the face. He let her go and Quinn skidded down against the floor. She cried out, her hand going to her cheek. The skin was already sensitive and she knew it would bruise. She couldn’t feel blood, but the shock of the pain had snuffed the laughing fit right out of her. She didn’t rise from her knees, instead twisting to look up at the hateful king. “You can’t force me to use my ability, sire, even on you. Do you actually know what Sammah is?”

  “He’s one of you, Sha’sekian scum. All I know and care about is that he is on a throne he doesn’t deserve. He is controlling one of our own, and even if I don’t think Vance merits his title, no one should have their mind clouded.”

  “I didn’t mean what race. Do you know what ability Sammah has?”

  “He doesn’t have one. That’s why he’s the emissary. It’s the only reason he was allowed in our court.”

  “That’s what they wanted you to believe. Sammah has an ability; his family is legendary for it. He’s an apath.”

  “Apath? Heard of that. What does that mean?”

  “It means he feels nothing. Is the opposite of me—he’s empty. He has no emotion, no reaction, he’s clinical and he’s deadly.”

  “And what does this have to do with you?”

  “Because, your highness, an apath cannot be affected by the abilities of other gifted. Even if I could change people’s emotions at will…I cannot touch Sammah.”

  10

  “The banners don’t want to gather for you, Sammah. They don’t trust you.” Obrenn couldn’t hide his sneer from Sammah. It didn’t matter what the lord thought. He still had to follow Sammah’s word, because the baron acted on behalf of their king.

  “They’re not gathering for me; this is at the order of King Vance.”

  “You say that, but no one has seen the king for weeks. We know that he is not well, that his life was at risk, but it’s been long enough now for any man to recover. If you can speak to him, why can’t anyone else?”

  “That’s not up to me, that’s up to Vance. Are you questioning the word of our king?”

  Obrenn folded his arms defensively. “No, we’re questioning your right to speak on his behalf. How do we know Vance is even alive? You won’t let us see him, yet we are the ones in this room subject to his rule. You’re just a baron from Sha’sek, Sammah, why should we believe any single word that you’re saying?”

  “You’re starting to sound like Shiver—leave and join the ranks of Sevenspells if that’s the way you feel.”

  “We don’t follow Shiver,” Erran cut in. “He tried to murder our king. Understand us, Sammah, when you’re the only one talking, we’re having a hard time believing everything you have to say. All we want to do is see our king with our own eyes. That’s not too much to ask, and you need to make it happen, Sammah. If we cannot reassure our men that they are gathering for Vance, then they will not gather at all. Without the men we have no defence, and everything is lost. Is the king really so bad that we can’t even see in his rooms? We won’t tax him by asking questions—we just need to see him.”

  “Seeing won’t be enough for you. Y
ou’ll open your mouths and ask puerile questions which will tire him quickly. Do you want to make him worse? I promised you nothing in terms of Vance. All I have been doing is protecting his best interests, and that includes passing on his wishes to men like you. You have promised your king men, and yet there are none here. Why should we be ceding to your wishes, when you’re the only ones here not keeping your promises?”

  Obrenn and Erran sat on either side of the lonely large table in Vance’s suites. They sat in the centre, near each other—trying to seek strength from each other for facing him down, Sammah supposed. It wasn’t working; neither of them would even meet his eyes. They had come with talk of rebellion, treating him as if they were his equal. It might be true—Sammah had heard for himself that none of the bannermen would pledge to Everfell until they saw Vance again—there was even talk of the remaining men defecting to Shiver’s side. Sammah couldn’t let that happen. He knew that Obrenn and Erran saw Shiver as a dangerous man, a traitor in their midst and a usurper to the throne. Sammah had to use that doubt and fear against them to stand a chance of keeping these men on side.

  The baron stood from the table pacing, his face a mask but his body tense. He was starting to wish Neyv was here, but at this time of night the girl would be sound asleep. Could he stall and get her here in good enough time to... No he was on his own right now. He’d negotiated his way past these men without Neyv before, and he had to trust that he could do it again, though his guile was likely not enough to see him through this time. He’d have to placate the lords, and hope his last conversation with Neyv and Vance would hold.

  “Fine. You wish to see Vance, then so be it. I will not be held responsible, though, for any lapse in the king’s health at the strain you’re about to put him under. Is that clear?”

  “Immeasurably," Obrenn replied. “You know, I think you should be glad that you here to make demands at all. Shouldn’t you be swinging at the end of a noose?”

  “And if you’ll forgive me for saying, my lord, I’m not the one who has tried to kill our king. We are all here because of Shiver’s actions. Put your long-standing hatred for me aside, Obrenn. This is nothing to do with me. Haven’t I shown this by the fact that Sha’sek aren’t attacking us?"

  “Perhaps, though it would be even better if they were to show support of Vance. If they did, we might even see some sort of peace in our lifetime, instead of this suspended armistice we’ve been living with for the last fifteen years.”

  “I think it’s absurd to discuss peace when one of your own lords is plotting war against us. I implore you again, let’s not forget what is at stake here. I’m doing my best to protect this kingdom, and I suggest you start doing the same.”

  Sammah waved the lords to their feet, “Now please, I don’t expect you to hold to your word that you’re not going to harass the King. But please try and keep any complicated questions to a minimum. You don’t believe me, but you will soon. The man is still very weak, and we mustn’t overwork him. This is all I’ve been trying to do; the best the for King Vance and Everfell. Hopefully after you’ve seen him, you will finally believe me.”

  * * *

  “I didn’t believe you.” Obrenn’s voice was low and heavy with fear. “I can’t believe he is still so gravely ill. What did Shiver do to him?”

  “It’s not what Shiver did to him that we should focus on now, it’s the revenge we’re going to get, for Vance.” Obrenn replied. “Shiver calls himself the king now. He never hid his desire for the throne, nor his displeasure at the vote when Vance was given the title. Here it is: the result of that man’s resentment and treachery. Sammah has been right all along—Shiver has to be stopped. We’ve seen the king for ourselves now, we can take this back to our men. The gathering can start. Sammah, I’m sorry that we ever doubted you.”

  “My lords both, I can understand your misgivings. Hopefully now you can understand my hesitancy to bring you here. You both know that Shiver will not be reasoned with. We need your men, and we need to defend Everfell. You have to bring them here—we can’t defend on three different fronts. It’s most likely that Shiver will strike straight for Everfell, so we need to be prepared to last out a siege.”

  “I’ll get messages sent out straightaway.”

  “I will, too. How quickly do we need this to happen?”

  “I say we get as many men here as quickly as we possibly can. We don’t know when Shiver will move his troops, and we need to be ready and waiting here for him. The more men we have the more we can fortify, taking advantage of all the ground we have.”

  “You think the men from three cities can hide in Everfell and withstand a siege of any length?”

  “We have a chance. We have enough natural water, and the grain stores are significant. If we are sensible about rationing, we should be able to see through long enough that Shiver becomes disheartened in the assault."

  “I’m not sure if you remember Shiver during the wars, but he is not the kind of man who is easily dissuaded from a fight.”

  “He’s never laid siege to a city before; Shiver’s fights were in open ground. I don’t think he has the temerity to lay siege this castle for any length of time and hold out."

  “He doesn’t need to; he just needs to hold out longer than us.”

  “All the more reason for us to be organised my lords. Send out your crows, I will beseech my brother once again."

  “Can he send us reinforcements?”

  “I’m not going to ask him to fortify us, I’m going to ask for supplies. We need healers. Torran won’t be enough on his own.”

  * * *

  Sammah didn’t send a crow to his brother. As soon as the lords had sent their own messages, he called for Neyv. She was still rubbing sleep out of her eyes when she got to his rooms.

  “Is something wrong, father?”

  “I need your opinion, my dear, and I’m sorry it can’t wait until the morning. It’s very urgent you see. It’s about the king.”

  “Does he not understand you anymore?"

  “It’s not that, my dear. It’s about how you feel after we have our conversations. You know when I explained to the king the situation here? How do you feel afterwards?”

  “I always feel… tired. My eyes are always itchy, and I feel like I need a good sleep. I don’t feel right for a few days afterwards. Why?”

  “How do you think you’d be, if there were more than two people in the room? How are you for example when we speak to the lords?”

  “Worse than the king. Sometimes a few days before I feel good again. If you want me to be honest, I’m always frightened when you want me to be there when you are speaking to a group."

  “Does it hurt?”

  “It doesn’t hurt, but it’s so…so draining.”

  “And how do you think it would feel, if I had to speak to at least ten people that didn’t understand me?”

  Neyv paled. Even in her tired state, her entire body tensed up at the implications of those words. “I’m not sure I could cope with that many, father."

  “Would you let me try?”

  “Why?”

  Questions. This is how it had started with Quinn. Sammah didn’t like it when he was questioned, though in all fairness, Neyv did deserve an answer to these questions.

  “Men are going to come and attack Everfell and we will be outnumbered. I need our men to understand that they are brave, that they can stand against this threat. I don’t think that they can be convinced of that without your help.”

  “Do they believe it even a little bit?”

  “Does that make a difference to you?”

  “Yes. The headaches are never as bad when you don’t have to convince people so much. I do wish people weren’t so stupid all the time. I think that would be better for both of us.”

  Sammah smiled, “You have no idea how truthful that is my daughter. If they do believe that they are capable of this, but they just need a little nudge. Would you do this? For me?”

  “You know
I would do anything for you, father, whether they were convinced or not.”

  “You’re so special to me, Neyv. Never forget that. I couldn’t be doing this without you.”

  Neyv smiled, a joyful grin stretching from ear to ear.

  “Go back to bed, you need your rest. You been working very hard recently. I’ll make sure you get a big present at the end of it.”

  Neyv padded away. Sammah hadn’t lied; she would get a massive gift from Sammah when this was all over and done with. Neyv wouldn’t be expecting a dagger in her heart.

  11

  Eden couldn’t believe he had been locked in his own rooms. Rowan had delighted in ordering him to be thrown in, and though Eden had tried to leave twice, both times his passage had been blocked by reluctant but stoically obedient guards.

  “I’m sorry, Eden,” they’d said, familiar with him from his time as guard captain, “It’s the king’s orders.”

  He was a prisoner in his own home, and Eden didn’t know what to think. He was petrified for Quinn, left alone at his father’s questionable mercy. The king had no kind disposition towards those from Sha’sek. Eden tried to stop his imagination from running away with itself, but couldn’t stop picturing Quinn either being throttled by Shiver’s hand, or taking his dagger to her heart. Eden knew that his father was capable of such atrocities, and he could only hope and pray that his father really did need Quinn’s help. If Shiver found out that for some reason Quinn couldn’t help him, then Eden needn’t fear for her life—she’d be doomed anyway.

  As the sun had dropped below the horizon, he considered trying to get a few hours rest. He’d lain down in his bed, though when he closed his eyes tiredness hadn’t come. He was too frustrated, his mind reeling too fast with the possibilities of what was going on around him.