Dissever

by Ward, Tracey

  “Will you be tossing aside that sword?”

  “I hadn’t planned on it.”

  “I’d begin to consider it if I were you.”

  He chuckles, then dismounts his horse gracefully. In one smooth motion he unhooks his belt and holds his sword out to me.

  I shake my head, gesturing to a pile of hay nearby. “There.”

  “How did this become a standoff?”

  “I’ve already had one eye blackened by Kilmarnock nobility today. I’m not keen on getting a second. Call me paranoid or call me cautious, either way throw your sword in the pile or go home.”

  He watches me for a moment, amusement in his eyes, then tosses his sword into the pile of hay.

  “Done.” He extends his hand to me. “Patrick Walburton.”

  “You’re the Duke,” I say in understanding, feeling my tension ease enough to meet his hand with mine.

  I’ve never met the man but when we were children I heard his name from Anna almost every time we were together. He was a great friend of her mother’s and a better father figure to Anna than her own, not that it was a hard feat to accomplish.

  He waves his hand dismissively. “Please, no, Patrick will suit me better here. I doubt my title will do me any favors with your people.”

  “If anything, it will hurt you.”

  He grins again. “As I thought. So, please, Patrick.”

  “Alright, Patrick. What are you doing here?”

  “Not going to tell me your name?”

  “I suspect you already know it.”

  “I do. You’re Roarke, aren’t you?” I nod. He looks me over quickly. “I thought so. You’re just as Evelyn described you. You know she trusted you with her most precious possession. Put her right into your hands without hesitation. That’s a fair compliment from a woman like her.”

  “Have you come to ask why I failed her?”

  “Who? Her or Annabel?”

  “Both.”

  He shakes his head sadly. “No. That’s not why I’m here at all. Do you believe that’s what happened?”

  “Then why?” I insist, ignoring his question, his attempt to dissuade my guilt. “Why are you here?”

  “I would think that’s obvious. I’ve come about Annabel.”

  I swipe my hand over my mouth, feeling tired. “There’s nothing we can do. Even if they’d let us see her, we can’t heal what’s been done to her.”

  “And what’s been done?”

  I don’t answer. That question is too large to think about let alone talk about. It’s also too fresh. I know she’s out there somewhere, I can feel her out there, but I can’t get to her. And I probably never will again. Not in this world.

  “Alright,” Patrick says softly. “I understand. Believe me, I do. But let me tell you this – Kilmarnock is in chaos.”

  “What?”

  “The city itself is confused. There was a brief but fierce blizzard and now the seas are boiling.”

  “They’re frothing, you mean?”

  “No,” he says, shaking his head seriously. “They are boiling. Hot as lava, bubbling and boiling. The people are confused, terrified. They saw the carriage racing back and forth to fetch Annabel and rumors are flying. But the castle is a madhouse. The King, the Prince, The High Priest, Annabel’s father; they’ve forbidden anyone to see her and they’ve taken up residence in the rooms nearest hers.”

  “And that’s unusual for an illness in the castle?”

  Patrick raises his eyebrows. “The King, the Prince and the High Priest all attending to one sick young woman outside the Royal Family? Yes. That is very strange. And I imagine you know why it’s happening.”

  “I do. At least I think I do.”

  “Care to share with me?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  I consider, wondering not if he can be trusted but if he will believe me.

  “Patrick,” I say, meeting his eyes and taking a gamble, “how religious are you?”

  Chapter Twenty

  It turns out Patrick Walburton is not the religious type. He blames his lack of faith, and the lack of faith of so many others in his generation and all that follow, on us. Being blamed for the plight of the people of Kilmarnock is nothing new to the Tem Aedha. Agreeing with it, however, that’s novel. Patrick insists that the worship of the Saints has been on the decline since the appearance of our people. Before us, the citizens of the island had known nothing but their own existence for thousands of years. Then we arrived, blowing in out of nowhere and bringing the new world with us. Our appearance didn’t shake people’s faith so much as open their eyes and their minds. We made them curious and in every generation since, that curiosity has been growing.

  So when we explain to Patrick that the Saints aren’t all that they seem, he takes it surprisingly well.

  “Do you have alcohol here?” he asks.

  “Does Camolin wood taste like cherries?” Mum asks, smiling thinly. It’s the most emotion I’ve seen out of her since she discovered what I’d done. She still isn’t speaking to me, even now hours later with the night falling around us.

  Patrick looks to my father and I for help. “I… have… no idea.”

  “It means yes,” Da tells him with a grin.

  “I’ll get you a drink,” Mum says, rising from the table, heading toward the house.

  “Only if it’s not too much trouble,” he calls after her.

  “It’s not. It’s helpful really. I need to stay busy. Keep my mind off things.”

  Daggers shot my way, I’m sure, but I refuse to look up and meet them. I’ve made my choice. She needs to come to terms with it. I can’t take it back now and I wouldn’t even if I could. She disappears into the house, leaving Da, Patrick and I outside alone at the long wooden table.

  “So,” Patrick says, looking from Da to me and back again. “What do we do now? How can we help her?”

  “All that can be done has been done. And then some,” Da says gravely.

  “You’re going to start now too?” I ask him sharply.

  “It’s too much, Ro. You went too far. There’s a reason we haven’t performed that ceremony since we arrived here.”

  “It was the only way.”

  “Only way for what? You’ve condemned your soul to eternal torment.”

  “We don’t know that. If the Ila has chosen to help us, if it’s accepted the bond with her as I believe it has, then she’s saved. We both are.”

  “What’s this?” Patrick asks, looking concerned. “You didn’t tell me this.”

  “The boy has tied himself, his soul, to her soul. Wherever she goes, heaven or hell,” I look up and meet Da’s eyes, wishing I hadn’t. They’re bright with unshed tears. “Or elsewhere, so goes he.”

  “I had to. I couldn’t leave her to face that alone. And it doesn’t have to end that way.”

  “What else could happen?” Patrick asks.

  “The Earth Elemental on the island could save her. It could save us. I bound her soul to him as well, at least I asked him to take her.”

  “And she agreed to that? To giving her soul up to a… a what? A god?”

  “Essentially, yes. She knew it was better than going to the Water or Air.”

  “How do you know it’s better?”

  I shrug. “Because it can’t be worse.”

  “So that’s what we’re waiting for? We’re waiting to see who takes her?”

  “Yes.”

  “So we’re waiting for…”

  I nod, my heart hammering hard, cracking in my chest like ice. “We’re waiting for her to die.”

  Patrick curses forcefully.

  When my mum reappears with his ale, we put the topic to rest. The darkness takes over, pushing the edges of the forest in closer around us. The meager flames of candles and lanterns hold it a bay but just barely. There’s not much talk. Mum cooks a simple dinner and we all eat in silence. Somewhere farther down in the village people are playing music and singing.
I hear children laughing, the familiar sound of their footsteps running over the forest floor. They’re playing a game I taught Anna years ago. One she loved and laughed hysterically at, her face dirty with dirt from the ground. She was beautiful even then, even as a child. I loved her from the start, but when I saw her in my home, in my village, wearing that simple green dress like she was born to it, that’s when I knew I was in love with her. That I’d do anything for her.

  “What’s this now?” Da mumbles, standing up slowly.

  I stand as well, looking behind me where he’s watching the road. I see them. Two figures, one very tall and the other petite. They’re in the shadows. I can’t make out faces, but when I see the ornate gown and blond hair on the woman, I nearly collapse in relief. But it’s short lived. She passes through the light of a nearby lantern and I can see that it’s not Anna.

  “Can we help you?” Mum calls out.

  “I certainly hope so,” the tall man replies formally.

  He steps into the light and I hear Mum inhale sharply. His face is covered entirely by a formless black mask, the only sign of life the glimmer of eyes set deep behind the darkness. His build is tall and foreboding, but there’s a gentleness about him that offsets it entirely. Maybe it’s the way the small woman stands so close to him, as though looking to him for safety. Trusting him entirely. Or maybe it’s because he’s never known a day of hard labor in his life.

  “Oh, this is interesting,” Patrick mutters behind me.

  “I am Crown Prince Frederick of Kilmarnock. I come seeking council with the leaders of the Tem Aedha.”

  “Well you found them,” Da says, sounding exhausted as he plunks back down into his chair. He gestures to the empty seats at the table. “Sit yourselves down.”

  His Grand Royal High Majesty simply stares, stunned. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “He said sit down, Frederick,” Patrick calls, taking his seat again as well. “Hello, Elaine.”

  “Duke Walburton,” she replies softly with a curtsy.

  “Will you be having a drink?” Mum asks, ever the hostess.

  “I—Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you, madam,” Frederick replies.

  “You too, dear?”

  “Oh, no thank you. I don’t drink,” Elaine says.

  Mum is already gone, not waiting for an answer. If Elaine didn’t drink before, she starts tonight.

  “It’s you,” His Highness suddenly says, pointing at me. “The one who saved Annabel Lee from the cliff’s edge.”

  I nod slowly in acknowledgement, sinking back into my seat. “And you’re the spoiled Prince whose pride nearly got her killed that night.”

  “If you’ll notice,” he grinds out, his voice low and tight, “she faired quite a bit better in in the accident than I did.”

  “Is that what you call this?” I ask, gesturing to my own face in reference to his. “An accident? Was it not always this way?”

  “How dare you.”

  “Roarke,” Da warns, sounding shocked.

  I’m a little shocked myself. I am not by nature an angry, spiteful person. However, this is the man who was supposed to marry my love, my wife, use her to produce an heir for his gilded throne and then cast her soul to a band of devils as payment for their continued ignorance. What should be shocking us all is that I haven’t killed him yet.

  “I didn’t come here to be insulted. Or to fight,” he says bitingly.

  “Then you shouldn’t have come.”

  He takes a step closer to me, probably intending to use his height and strange mask as intimidation. I do not, however, intimidate easily. I stand to face him, closing the meager gap between us until we are nearly toe to toe. I can see his eyes blazing behind the shadows of the featureless, black face he wears. Damaged, spoiled or otherwise, he has a backbone, something I am surprised to find. Something I grudgingly respect.

  “Sit down, both of you,” Mum commands, returning with two new mugs of ale. She slams them down on the table. Foam and amber liquid spill out over the tops and run down onto the table. “How does this help Anna? Tell me that. You two bickering, does that do her any good? Would she be happy to see this?”

  Elaine sits down quickly beside Patrick, wrapping her hands around a slick, wet mug. He smiles at her reassuringly. I imagine this is terrifying for her being in a strange place, a place she’s been told all her life is full of witchcraft and evil. She was brave to come here and I’m an ass for scaring Anna’s friend more than she already is.

  I step back from Frederick. I don’t invite him to sit at the table, but I don’t stop him either. He pauses, then moves slowly around me until he can sit down beside Elaine. I take the space between my parents on the other side of the table. He quietly thanks my mum, lifts the mug and somehow manages to take a drink without spilling it all over his shadow mask.

  “This is delicious.”

  “This is unbelievable,” I mutter into my own mug.

  His Royal Highness glares at me. “What now?”

  I lean back in my seat, shaking my head. “Over a century we’ve been here and not once has anyone from Kilmarnock set foot in these woods. Suddenly today we can’t keep you people out.”

  “You want us to leave, I take it.”

  “I didn’t say that. I said it was unbelievable.”

  “Why are you here, Frederick?” Patrick asks calmly. “And why bring Elaine?”

  Elaine looks at him with watery eyes. “I wanted to come. For Annabel Lee.”

  The Prince is watching me closely. “She’s also the one who told me about you.”

  “You mean about Anna and I,” I say, my voice low.

  “Yes. I realized that you’re the reason Annabel knows so much about the Tem Aedha. She promised me she would try to arrange a meeting for me with you to discuss the Saints. But then… well, we all know what happened.”

  “What do you want to know about the Saints?” Da asks.

  “What exactly are they really?”

  “Well,” Patrick groans, rising from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve just recently had my education on this topic. I believe I’ll take a little walk, if you don’t mind, Kian?”

  “Of course not. Please, make yourself welcome.”

  “Would you care for company, Duke Walburton?” Elaine asks, beginning to stand. “I could join you and leave these gentleman to it.”

  “No,” he says firmly, pressing down on her shoulder until she sits in her seat again. “Stay, Elaine. You need to hear this as well.”

  She looks around uncertainly. “A-are you sure?”

  “Stay,” I tell her softly. I suspect it’s an unheard of idea for a woman in Court to be encouraged to attend a meeting of men on a serious topic. I wonder how Anna and her endless questions ever survived it.

  “Alright,” Elaine says meekly, looking uncomfortable.

  And so Da gives them the rundown of the situation. Elaine sits silently, gripping her mug without ever drinking from it and paling considerably. Her mouth opens and closes a few times as though she would ask a question, but she never does. When Da is finished speaking, Elaine looks to Frederick.

  “Do you think the High Priest knows all of this? Frederick, is it true?”

  He nods slowly. “I believe it’s all true, Elaine. My father and the High Priest both told me what was to become of Annabel. She was chosen as a child.”

  “Chosen to be a sacrifice?”

  “Yes.”

  “For the safety of the island? But are we sure we’re still in danger? All these years later, are the wars still going on?”

  Da shakes his head. “There was a war looming when our people fled our homeland. But that was a hundred years ago and it may never have even started.”

  “So these women may be sacrificed for nothing?”

  “I believe so, yes.”

  “That’s heinous!”

  “I agree. Your people worship your Saints as saviors and maybe at one point they were. But times have certainly changed and the nat
ure of the bargain struck has altered. They are no longer your saviors. They are your captors.”

  Elaine grips Frederick’s hand tightly. “The High Priest. We have to make him see the truth. He’s the only one who can help us.”

  Patrick chuckles, emerging from the road. “I doubt he’ll be of much help to us. He’s blindly devout. Besides, there’s something off putting about him. I’ve always found him more than a little strange.”

  “It’s because he doesn’t age,” Elaine says quietly.

  All eyes fall on her.

  “What did you say?” I ask.

  She sits back, seeming surprised to be the center of attention.

  “I said that he doesn’t seem to age. It’s actually something Annabel Lee said once.” She glances at Frederick and relaxes, leaning toward him. “She said that she couldn’t remember a time when he had ever looked young. I hadn’t thought about it before because he’s very old and of course we aren’t old enough to have known him when he was young. But nearly twenty nears have gone by and I can’t remember him ever looking any different. Can you?”

  Frederick shakes his head minutely.

  “He’s your communication line to your Saints?” I ask, drawing on my limited knowledge of their religion. “The only one?”

  “Yes. Only the High Priests have ever been able to speak to them. They dedicate their lives to it.”

  I frown. “There’s more than one High Priest?”

  “Not more than one at a time, but there have been others in the past, of course. When one dies a new one is chosen.”

  “Does he live in the castle with you?”

  Elaine’s eyes widen. “Oh no. Absolutely not. He lives in seclusion so that they can better commune with the Saints. We rarely see him.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?” Kian asks.

  “Not for years. Not sin—“

  “Three days ago,” Frederick interrupts. He sounds reluctant, exhausted. “I met with him three days ago. With my father and Annabel’s father as well. To discuss the marriage.”

  I sit back, pulling away from him. “He was in favor, I imagine.”

  High Majesty looks at me hard. “He was insistent.”