Forbidden Power

by Willa Hart

  My heart beats faster. “This place,” I say, nearly breathless with anticipation. “I have been in this place before now.”

  Sarkany’s eyebrow lifts and doubt fills his features, but he is kind enough not to tell me that he disbelieves the memory that floods my brain. A memory of following this very path.

  Ugh…here comes that girl again.

  I glance down. On the forest path is a skunk.

  Steer clear of my burrow this time, or I shall spray you as I told you I would.

  The skunk slowly waddles by, crossing the path in front of Sarkany and I.

  “Did you…”

  “I did,” Sarkany says. The muscle in his jaw flinches. “I’ve not been in this part of the forest before,” he says.

  “I’ve been here,” I say. “I…I know this place.” We turn in the woods on the narrow path, and to our left is a grey rock bigger than Sarkany. It stands at least twenty feet tall, and chipped into the rock is the crest of House Roya.

  Sarkany stops. “We cannot,” he says. “This is the end of Roya land. To go further along the path we shall be…we shall be beyond the Royal territory.”

  I stop walking and glance from the rock to Sarkany. A tendril of my mind reaches to him and he does not push it away. Fear?

  Oh my, I think. It is the privilege of your position and birth that you’ve never experienced life without Royal protection. The Roya skin that you wear provides you with a privilege that you’ve never had to be without, and you are…you are afraid?

  “I fear nothing,” Sarkany says. His brow furrows and anger crosses his face.

  “Then keep walking,” I say. “I know where I’m going.

  “How could you?” He tosses out his words. “You’ve never been in this forest before now. This is Royal lands that have belonged to my family for hundreds of years. You’re only a Ninaku Dreg, there is no way that you know this place or where you are going.”

  “Your fear makes you mean,” I say. “Do you wish to speak to me like this? To damage our connection and our relationship with your unkind words and your fear, Sarkany?

  “We’re going back,” he says, and turns on the path to head back from where we came.

  “I’m not,” I say. I walk past the rock with the Roya crest.

  “Do not make me fell you as I did before,” Sarkany calls.

  I pause and turn back to him. “That time you did it for my protection, but this time, should you fell me, it shall be to control me and bend me to your will. Is that how you would have our relationship be? That you would seek to control me?”

  Sarkany’s nostrils flare with my words. You anger me, little bird, he thinks.

  Would you want me any other way? I think.

  I’d want a mate that did as she was instructed.

  Is that the type of mate the Queen was to your fathers?

  Tread lightly, my little bird.

  Is it though? I can’t imagine a Queen that did everything that her Kings instructed; that would not be a partnership, a collaboration, that would’ve been a tyranny.

  Sarkany breathes deeply and shakes his head. “Lead the way, bird,” he finally says. “Let us hope that the visions you hold in your mind take us somewhere other than our deaths.”

  I shiver at Sarkany’s words. The Dark Forest is forbidden for a reason, not the least of which is the Wolveskin that prowl these woods.

  My feet fall swiftly upon the dark path that leads through the thick woods as though they know where I am to go. My heart beats faster with each step. I’m pulled forward. Lead by a tendril of a memory that knows this place so well. I’m practically running as I turn a bend, and the forest breaks wide and there is a circle of trees cut away. In its center is a house, not gigantic like the Palace or Sarkany’s lodge, but a cottage made of river stone with three chimneys and a yard and the sounds of a brook running behind it.

  Home.

  The word whispers through my mind and I know it to be a truth.

  “What is this place?” Sarkany asks.

  I rush up the path, then the steps, and place my fingers on the heavy wooden door. I push it open, and a vision of Mama and Papa floods my mind. So vibrant is the memory it’s as though I’m thrown back in time. Inside the door, a fire crackles in the hearth. The scent of cinnamon as Mama bakes in the kitchen. Papa sits in a chair of leather beside the fire with a pipe in his mouth and a book in his hand. I nearly choke on my tears, the feelings welling up inside me as I see a vision play out—one I know cannot possibly be happening or be true, and yet, it is as real to me as the blue butterfly that landed on my hand.

  “Meela, that’s my doll,” Huali says. She sits at Papa’s feet and grabs the doll from my hand.

  I sigh and pick up another doll, one that I love less but will do just as well.

  “Dinner in ten minutes,” Mama calls. Then she turns the corner form the kitchen and there she stands.

  My heart cracks in my chest. Mama with a smile on her face. Her black curly hair falling to her shoulders and her cocoa-colored skin and brown eyes. Love shines through as she smiles at Papa and then Huali and finally her gaze lands on me, as a little girl. “Meela, want to help me with the table?”

  I smile and pop up to my feet. Father looks up from the book that he reads and smiles at Mama and then me. I smile back at him and follow Mama into the kitchen. My chest fills with love and a deep ache watching this scene.

  What is this place? Sarkany thinks.

  Can you see it too? Fear crashes through me. Does Sarkany see the same scene? Or has my mind cracked and created an impossibly painful hallucination that is proof that I’ve gone mad?

  Is that you as a child?

  He sees it too! You see it. You see me and Huali and my…my…parents. With that word in my mind, Papa looks toward grown me, who stands beside Sarkany in the doorway of the house. His gaze…it is as though he sees me and looks through me, and then in an instant, with a shimmery mist, the entire vision of my past is gone.

  “No!” I wail. Sadness engulfs me with the disappearance of a childhood I don’t remember. “I think all of that was…true,” I say, my voice cracking. While my heart knows that this scene happened, my head has a hard time believing what I just witnessed. “That felt like…like a memory,” I say. We’re in the same room, only without the vision of the people and the fireplace is cold.

  I walk through the living room. The glass of a broken window and dirt lies on the wood floor. A spot where the ceiling is crumbling into the house. We walk past the kitchen and into a hall, and I press open the door to a room that even with the dirt and the rain that has come through the broken windows, I know was once beautiful. There are still two children’s beds painted white with pink blankets on them as though built for two princesses. “This…this was my and Huali’s room,” I whisper.

  I walk to the wall and there…yes, there on the wall is a picture of our family. A picture of the four of us together.

  My god, it is you and those…those are your parents?

  I nod and pull the picture form the wall. It’s as though it was left in this one spot for me to find.

  “But your mother…” Sarkany shakes his head and stops speaking.

  I hold the picture close to my chest. I must memorize this room so that when I see Huali again I can give her this memory. Maybe…maybe someday I can bring her to this place. My eyes are hot with tears when I turn from my childhood bedroom that I now remember. I walk down the hallway and press open the heavy wooden door to my parent’s room.

  In the center of the room is their giant bed which I remember running to as a child whenever a night terror would wake me or a storm with lightning and thunder would scare me. Across from the bed against the window is my mother’s dressing table. I walk to it and lift her cut-glass perfume decanter from the surface and press it to my nose. Lavender. The rich clean scent of Mother was lavender.

  A memory bursts through my brain. Her dark hair, cast golden from the sunlight streaming through the window. Mam
a’s smile and her dark brown eyes gazing upon me, filled only with love. Without a thought, but knowing that I must, my fingers circle the little metal knob on the top drawer of her dressing table. I expect to find nothing in the drawer, but hope to find the one thing I seek, the one thing that I remember she always kept in this place.

  The wood creaks as I pull open the drawer.

  I gasp and press my hand to my mouth. It is here. Here as though left for me to find. How is it possible that such a beautiful thing has survived the loss and abandonment of this place? I lift the brooch from the drawer. The lioness surrounded by the eagle, the bear, and the dragon. The lioness holds a diamond beneath her paw, the eagle holds a sapphire in its beak, the bear an emerald in its paw, and the Dragon has a ruby in its eye.

  Sarkany’s boots crunch over the dirt and leaves that are strewn across the floorboards.

  “It was my mother’s. She always kept it here. Only wore it for holidays and festivals. I…I can’t believe that it’s still here.”

  “Oh my Goddess,” Sarkany says, and his eyes widen. “Do you know what that is?”

  “It was my mother’s brooch,” I say. I grasp it tightly, suddenly afraid that Sarkany would take this from me, the one thing I have from my mother.

  “No,” Sarkany says, and leans forward, “that’s not just your mother’s brooch. That,” he says, and points at me, “that is the Royal Wedding Brooch. There were only six made.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “One for each of my fathers.”

  “My mother did not take this from your fathers.” I tightly clutch the broach and hold it close; Sarkany will have to kill me and pry the broach from my dead hands.

  Easy, little bird, Sarkany thinks. “There were six made. One for each of my fathers that my mother gave to them on their wedding day.”

  I look at the broach in my hand.

  “For who? For who were the other three made?”

  “For my mother’s dearest friends. Her best friends, her handmaidens who were also her attendants at her wedding. Three for the women who were closest to her when she was a maiden, and three for the men that were to be her future.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “That you, my little Ninaku Dreg, are the daughter of my mother’s handmaid.”

  “But handmaidens are required to be Eliterrati,” I say, the words escaping me on a hushed breath.

  “Not just Eliterrati,” Sarkany says, and holds out his hand for the brooch, which I’m unsure I want to hand to him. “But Royal Eliterrati. Only the highest families are even considered, and a handmaiden to the future Queen? I mean, your mother’s family might have more Royal connections than me.” Sarkany smiles. “A joke to be sure, but truly, only the most Royal are asked and they must be loyal to the Crown. Of course, there is some strategy involved too.” Sarkany holds the brooch up and examines it in the light. “Handmaidens are dearly loved, which might explain part of our immediate connection to you.” Sarkany flips the brooch over in his hand. “Your mother’s name was Esmeere?”

  I nod.

  “It’s a Royal Eliterrati name, but that doesn’t explain why”—Sarkany shakes his head and glances around my parents’ bedroom—“why would she live here with you and your father and Huali? Why beyond the Roya lands? Here? What is an Eliterrati who was a handmaid to the Queen doing living in the Dark Forest outside the protection of the Royal house? Especially after she served the Queen? Why would your parents sell you to Dribble? Why…when were you and Huali sold?” Sarkany asks.

  “I was ten and Huali was seven and—”

  “That was the same year that our parents were killed,” Sarkany says. “And you have no memories other than what you’ve recovered today?”

  I nod, but I place a wall around my mind. I have just lied to Sarkany, a man that I may be falling in love with. I do have memories. Memories that I do not yet understand and that I do not yet wish to share.

  Crash.

  What was that? I think.

  We turn toward the door. Sarkany draws his sword. There is no fear, only strength, as he motions for me to get behind him. We quietly walk through the room and toward the door to the hall.

  There is a yipping and then a sharp bark.

  Wolveskin?

  I think not, Sarkany thinks, perhaps regular wolves. It is nearly dusk. Let us avoid them, there is no need to draw blood in this house.

  We both turn toward the two doors that lead out of my parents’ room to the backyard. An ache pulses through my heart as I walk from the home of my childhood.

  My little bird, we shall return. That I promise, Sarkany thinks. His hand grasps mine, and we walk toward the stream that cuts through the yard of my family’s home. With Sarkany’s touch I see the future, this place filled with children and laughter, and there is Sarkany standing beside me in this yard with this arm around my waist.

  Oh, that these visions would become true, I think.

  Come with me, little bird, and we shall make the visions that we share become our reality. “We must get back,” Sarkany says out loud. “We’d be wise to be back to the hunting shack before nightfall.”

  “By ‘hunting shack’ you mean your woodland palace?” I ask, smiling at Sarkany

  “For you, my princess, yes, my woodland palace.”

  I grasp the brooch tightly in my hand and follow Sarkany out of the house and back into the woods.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sarkany

  My little Ninaku bird grows curiouser and curiouser. A link between Meela’s family and my family? Meela’s mother was my mother’s closest friend and confident. How is it possible? Why would Meela and Huali be sold to a Ninaku laundry? Passed off as Dregs? I head back to the Roya lands, walking through the dark woods and the bridge over the river. I’m not used to fear and while I’m unafraid in these woods, I carry a different burden traveling unprotected through the Dark Forest with Meela. There is little sunlight left in this day. I’m aware of the risk we take. My footsteps are faster, and my mind’s eye sees through the darkness and listens to the creatures around us.

  Brother, I hear that you’ve discovered something about our Meela?

  Taraz’s mind cuts through my thoughts. The negative to being linked as a Roya Tripsett is that unless I place a strong block in my mind, they have access to me and my thoughts at any time.

  What did you find out about the Dreg? Leo thinks.

  They’re not together, my two brothers. While Taraz is in his workshop at the Palace with the mechanically inclined Dreg named Jix, Leo is… Hmmm, it’s odd, Leo has a block up that prevents either me or Taraz from seeing exactly where he is.

  Why must you call Meela a Dreg every time you refer to her? Taraz thinks, directing his question to Leo. This was not how you referred to her in the beginning when we first met. What has happened to you? Why has your demeanor changed?

  I am in no need of a lecture, Leo responds.

  I press my fingers to my temples, but there is little use attempting to block my two brothers from my mind now.

  Wait? You are off Roya lands? Leo’s voice nearly screams into my brain. And it’s dark? Goddess! What foolish risks you take when we leave you alone.

  We near the edge of our lands and what we found makes the risk worthwhile, I think.

  Which was? Leo asks.

  Meela’s mother was Mother’s handmaiden.

  Impossible, Leo thinks. All of Mother’s handmaidens were assassinated with her.

  I can practically see his disdain. Even though he’s blocked me from seeing his location, I picture Leo standing with one knee half-bent, a cocky tilt to his hip, and his eyebrow raised, arms crossed over his chest in that smug self-possessed manner. Disregarding any information that he doesn’t have complete control of—that is my brother Leo, the one that knows everything all the time.

  Believe it, don’t believe it. Her mother has the Royal Brooch from Mother and Fathers’ wedding.

  I send Leo and Taraz a
mental image of what I saw in the house. Of course, I’m not surprised that there’s some link between Meela and my family. Our connection was so immediate, and her ability to communicate with each of us and seeming to already know us came so quickly that for her mother to have been best friends with ours makes complete sense.

  And they lived out of bounds? Taraz thinks.

  So it seems.

  So she isn’t a…Dreg? Leo thinks. Makes sense as no Dreg could possibly have the mind capability that she has.

  That’s not true, I think.

  A wolf howls in the distance and I keep moving forward. Meela’s footfalls are just behind me. They’re soft, but I hear them. We will soon be back on Roya land. I must keep Meela safe; it is my only desire.

  I must concentrate, I think.

  Will you be back to the Palace soon, then? Taraz thinks. I have much to understand and I want to spend time with her to try and gather—

  “Sarkany?” Meela’s voice cuts through my thought-connection with Leo and Taraz. There is a tremor in the sound. I stop and turn.

  I freeze. Fear pulses through me.

  The biggest beast I’ve ever seen in the forest stands on top of a rock. Teeth bared and fur puffed up, the wolf is even bigger than a bear.

  Fuck.

  In an instant, the wolf could leap and rip Meela’s throat out.

  A growl rumbles in the wolf’s throat. Meela closes her eyes and she blocks me from her mind…such a powerful block. I press my mind toward the wolf—

  Stay from my mind, human scum!

  Goddess? What the hell?

  Meela’s eyes widen. She hears the wolf’s thoughts too. The wolf paces the rock above Meela.

  Stay still Bear, or I shall eat her throat this night.

  I remain still, for this creature cannot only think but also engage in what seems like conversation. Usually, I only overhear the thoughts of the animals; they do not engage in conversation. But this wolf…this wolf is different. She can converse with me, and she can kill us both.