“Obviously you did not watch her carefully enough,” he hissed. “She knew the U’lfer well, or so my men have told me. Those that met with her at the borders welcomed her with open arms.”
“That is impossible,” her father barked. “Lorelei has never left these walls without the strict supervision of her nurse and the company of her sister, and they were always followed by at least four of my guards. And the U’lfer would not dare enter my lands for fear that my men would finish the task my mercy withheld.”
“Perhaps you should question this nurse then and her sister as well. I would know where she has gone and have her hunted down like the dog she is.”
“It will be done,” he assured him, “but let us not allow the rash actions of an insolent child to stain the progress our two kingdoms have made with the unnecessary shedding of blood. There is always a solution apart from war. Come,” he pushed his chair away from the table and rose to his full height, “let us retire to my private chamber and discuss how best to make this matter right.”
“You believe words and discussion could make this right?” the younger man sneered. “There is nothing you can say to sooth the bitter breaking of my heart. I grew fonder and fonder of the girl with each passing moment, and I thought her fond of me as well, but I should have known when she offered her body before our wedding night that there was little more to her than the animal that skulks beneath her skin.”
“If I vow to you here and now that she will be hunted and brought to justice for her crimes against you, will you concede to renegotiating the terms of our peace? I have another daughter, one whose lineage cannot be questioned, and I would offer her to you in place of her disgraceful sister.”
For the first time since he had burst through the doors Trystay’s gaze met with Mirien’s. Gone was the admiration and kindness he had paid to her while courting her sister.
RUN.
The dream warned her, but she could not find her feet while her father and the prince both stared at her expectantly. She had dreamed of the man she was meant to marry many times over the years, and that man was not Trystay.
“It will take more than the offer of her hand, I’m afraid. I will follow to discuss my terms, but do not expect to emerge from this meeting victorious in any manner, King Aelfric. You and your kingdom are at my mercy.”
“Stay put, Ygritte,” Aelfric ordered. “I would have you answer for this when all is said and done.”
Her father exchanged bitter looks with her mother, but his gaze did not fall on Mirien at all after he swept his cloak out behind him and led Trystay back through the hall and the lines of men that waited outside. The men fell in after they passed, marching through the palace until the dwindling echo of their boot steps was all that remained.
“Mother.” She swallowed hard before speaking that word, the sound trembling through the silent dining hall. “Is it…” The words to follow were lost on her tongue when Ygritte lifted her wide-eyed stare across the table at her daughter.
“My lady.” Pahjah scurried into the room, watching over her shoulder as she walked with hurried steps. “The time has come.”
“Indeed,” Ygritte nodded. “It has.” After a long, introspective silence she finally met with Mirien’s gaze, her eyes glazed with tears and lips trembling as she fought to form words. “Mirien, there is not much time, so be silent and listen to me.”
“Not much time for what?”
“Silent, I said,” she snapped, and then quickly softened. Rising from the table, she arrived beside her daughter’s chair and lowered a gentle hand on her shoulder. “The seers have whispered to me of your fate, that so long as you remain here now that your sister is gone, you will not be safe in this house. Pahjah must take you away from this place, but I cannot follow.”
“Take me? Take me where?”
“There is not time for questions, my little love, only action.” The tears in her mother’s eyes slipped down her cheeks when she blinked.
“Mother?” Mirien’s entire body began to tremble as a thousand unspoken horrors raced through her mind. “I don’t want to leave.”
Ygritte drew a steadying breath in through her nose as she brought her other hand up to grip Mirien’s shoulder. “Do you want to live?”
“Yes, but…”
“No more, Mirien. There is not time. You must go.” She held her out from her embrace, studying her face as if memorizing it, and then she turned attention away from her daughter. She drew something from inside the long sleeve of her dress and held it toward Pahjah. “As I promised,” she said. “Freedom.”
Pahjah lowered her head in respect, and then reached out to take what the queen offered. “I will see her to safety.”
“And Lorelei?”
“She is beyond our reach now, Lady,” Pahjah said, “but what is left of Rognar’s people will keep her safe.”
“And if Aelfric marches on the Edgelands?”
“She will be long gone from that place before his men arrive. The seers have promised this.”
“Tell me not where they go,” Ygritte insisted. “I would not betray her under torture or spell with that knowledge.”
“I would never tell you, my queen.” Pahjah reached down and clasped Mirien’s trembling hand inside hers, preparing to pull her away.
“Mother,” Mirien whimpered.
“The only gift your father ever gave me worth remembrance was you, my little girl. Know that in my heart I will always love you.” Ygritte lifted her hands to Mirien’s face, soft fingers trailing down her cheeks before she drew her close and kissed her forehead. “You must obey. Pahjah will explain everything in time, I promise you, but go without question, hurry.”
“Go where?”
“Away from this place.” She withdrew her touch and nodded toward Pahjah. “Far away from this place. Pahjah, take her, please, before I change my mind.”
Her nurse grabbed onto her arm and tugged her away from her mother, slipping toward the back doors that led into the kitchen with the stealth of a cat dragging a rat that was almost half its size.
“Don’t fight me, Miri. Heed your mother’s wishes and come. I will explain when we are well away from this place. You have my word.”
She did not relax, but followed as she was told to do, her stomach feeling tight and nauseated, though she had not eaten and would only dry heave if she started to actually get sick. Pahjah dragged her through the kitchens, pinching her skin as she squeezed and keeping her focused on what was happening. It felt so unreal, and it was all happening so fast.
She just wanted to dig her feet into the hard stone floor and stop the madness.
They slipped into the hallway that led down into the dungeons below. Pahjah stopped only when they were hidden on the stairs, the door to the kitchens closed at their backs, and then she withdrew the thing Ygritte had lowered into her hand.
The small metal object glinted in the smoky torchlight at the end of the hallway, trembling the in the elf’s hand as she lifted it up to inspect it. She closed her eyes and muttered something in Alvarii that sounded almost like a prayer, and then lifted the token toward her neck. It was a key, the key to the collar she had worn as long as Mirien had been alive, years and years longer if she considered how long Pahjah had been of service in her father’s household.
With her free hand she felt around the collar in the dark, guiding the key into the lock that held it in place and then opening her eyes as it slipped into the shaft. It glided into place, and with unsteady hands Pahjah turned the key, the lock springing and the collar falling open. She yanked it from her neck, but even in the shadows Mirien could see the years of wear and bruising it had wrought against her skin. Pahjah’s hand stroked the freed flesh of her throat, the collar dropping from her other hand onto the floor at her feet, and then she lifted that hand to Mirien.
“It is has been a long time since I used the gifts Mother Alvariin bestowed upon me. I will need you to be absolutely silent now, do you understand me?”
“
Pahjah…”
“Silent,” she repeated, an edge in her tone that sent a parade of chills marching up Miri’s spine. “Do you understand?”
Mirien gulped down her apprehension and nodded compliantly. “Yes, Pahjah.”
“Good, quiet as the night now, little one. Let’s go.”
Her hand remained on Mirien’s shoulder as she began to speak in hushed whispers words that were foreign to her ears. They flowed together like a river, and the rising power behind them began to glow against her nurse’s skin, spiraling outward in a dance of golden light that enveloped them both.
As the final words left her lips, Mirien felt that energy encompass her, and without another sound Pahjah grabbed onto her and pushed her forward. She felt a shudder of trepidation as they approached the end of the hallway and heard two of the guards in casual conversation, but they moved past them without notice, right before their eyes and they never even saw them.
She had to bite her tongue to keep from asking how such a thing was possible, to find out why her mother had given her that key and restored her magic. There were so many questions, so many things she wanted to know, but the answers would have to wait until they were far, far away from home.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jennifer Melzer spent the majority of her life as a writer denying she actually liked to write romance, only to wake up one morning and discover that every single tale she'd ever written had somehow revolved around the heart.
She has since given into the whim, spinning yarns of love and firmly believing that everyone deserves a happy ending.
Jennifer lives in Northeast Pennsylvania with her husband and daughter, but dreams nightly she is laying on the beach watching the stars fall over the Atlantic Ocean.
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Edgelanders (Serpent of Time) Page 59