“Malcolm!” he shouted. He shouldered his way past his mother and Chelsey toward his father’s friend. “Malcolm, it’s coming!”
Lord Malcolm’s face wore surprise, his brows raised. Then he nodded and Kelwin felt a calm fill him.
Malcolm walked toward him and grabbed his shoulder. “What did you hear?”
“Voices, Malcolm. Planning to attack Rosemont in the morning. How can we stop it?”
“We have to focus, Kelwin.” He looked very worried and Kelwin felt his concern. This wasn’t good.
“What’s wrong?” he asked Malcolm.
“Nothing.”
His stomach clenched. “God, you don’t think I can do this.”
“I do.” His eyes were intent. “You have your father’s gift. It’s stronger than mine.”
Kelwin felt that now-familiar blast of cool air as he opened the door in his mind and let Malcolm in. Show me what to do.
Malcolm nodded. Go wash up and get comfortable, son. This is going to take a while.
Kelwin left him and headed for the stairs to his room. Donnic caught up to him at the bottom of the staircase.
“What’s going on, Kelwin? I know I don’t have your gift but you can share this with me.”
Kelwin knew he could. Donnic had his back since they were children. “I’m going to try to stop the raid by getting into their heads,” he said in a low voice.
Donnic let out a whistle. “Can you do that?”
Kelwin shrugged. “Malcolm thinks so.”
“And what about Alyssa?”
“What about her?”
“Something happened between you two.”
Yeah, something happened. They’d been in each other’s heads and even now he missed that connection.
“She’s worried,” was all he would say to Donnic. “She’ll be safe, though. We all will.”
“Michal wants us ready should they attack.” Donnic winked. “No offense to you and Malcolm.”
“We need to do everything, Donnic. We need to be ready.” Kelwin shook his head. “I’ve never tried anything like this.” He bumped his cousin’s shoulder with his own, needing the contact despite the sting it caused. “I like the idea of you and the soldiers backing me up.”
Donnic nodded. He looked determined now. “We’ll be ready, then.”
Kelwin managed a smile and began to climb the stairs. He’d change and get ready to do something he’d never done before.
He’d get ready to use his gift to save his family.
When he came back down to the hall, he could feel everyone’s questions for him. They didn’t approach, though. Even more than worry he saw hope on his mother and Chelsey’s faces.
He searched the room for Alyssa and saw her settled near the hearth with her little brother. Thomas looked excited, his amber eyes bright. Kelwin could tell he didn’t remember raids on Merrickwood or they kept him sheltered from that harsh reality. Lucky kid. He certainly wasn’t that fortunate. He remembered every damn raid on Rosemont. He’d felt his family’s emotions as strongly as his own when they were under attack.
Terror as the estate was stormed by strangers. Grief as fallen soldiers were set aside to wait for the frozen ground to thaw enough for burial. Hunger as they lived on with what meager staples the raiders left behind. He’d felt his father’s guilt, too. How could he think he was stronger than his father? He couldn’t stop the raids. Why did Malcolm have such faith in Kelwin’s gift?
“There you are,” Malcolm said.
Kelwin nodded. Malcolm stood with confidence but he didn’t need his gift to see the worry etched on his face. He looked more like his father in that moment than ever before.
“Where should we go?”
“I’d say outside, since that’s where you heard the raiders, but it’s colder than a witch’s teat out there.”
Kelwin found a smile. “If we’re in the hall, then? Do you think my gift is strong enough?”
Malcolm squeezed his shoulder. “I do. They were far from here this afternoon and you heard them. It’ll take focus, though.”
As he said that last part his eyes drifted toward the hearth. Alyssa stared at the both of them but Kelwin felt her close herself off from him as surely as she’d slammed that door in her head. It didn’t matter. Not tonight. He had to focus, just like Malcolm said. Whatever was between him and Alyssa would just have to wait.
The family was subdued at dinner, but the boar steaks were delicious.
“Is this the one you shot, Kelwin?” Chelsey asked.
He shrugged but Donnic answered. “He shot three, Chelsey. And I bet we get to keep them.”
Kelwin shared a look with his cousin, and for a second it was like they were connected. Weren’t they, though? Through family and circumstance. Alyssa was still and pale, her eyes on her own plate. Thomas chattered on about something as he ate with his mouth full, though.
“It’s delicious, Kelwin,” his mother said.
Her voice was strained but once more he felt that flicker of hope in her. He had to do this. He had to keep them all safe. Tonight and in the coming winter.
Kelwin saw the soldiers ate well. Good. At the very least they’d be needed as sentries while he tried to stop the raid. Malcolm went on about something, a tale of silly foods and odd clothing on the people at court. He didn’t mention the Pageants, for which Kelwin was grateful. They all had enough to worry about without the specter of Dalton and his plans for Alyssa hanging over their heads.
Her head shot up and he felt that shift inside. Had he sent out his thoughts to her? He hoped not. The last thing he wanted was for her to see what Malcolm had told him about that bloody monthly event in Lotherin.
He finished his steak and wiped his mouth on a napkin. A cold tendril seemed to snake its way into his brain and he bolted upright. Dizziness swamped him but Malcolm reached out to grab his hand.
“Breathe,” he said. Breathe slowly. In and out.
He did and the nausea receded along with the light-headedness. “I’m okay.”
“Is it coming, Kelwin?” Chelsey asked.
He smiled at his little sister. “I think so.”
His mother frowned, then her expression cleared. She waved to the servants. “Please clear the table. Lords Kelwin and Malcolm need the space.”
Kelwin stood and paced behind the table as the others cleared out. One by one they stared at him, their eyes brimming with worry and hope and he knew he was the cause of both. What if he failed?
How would he face them tomorrow if everything was lost?
***
When Alyssa came downstairs the next morning, she found Kelwin asleep at the family table. His face was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes but a smile played around his mouth. His hair was a mess and she fought the urge to smooth it down. Dawn had come and gone and no raid came to Rosemont.
The hall was empty of everyone but the soldiers, who also slept. She knew they’d guarded the estate all night, on Michal’s orders. Donnic slumped on one of the benches next to a big soldier, his mouth open as he snored loudly. There was no sign yet of Lady Jayne or Chelsey, or even of Lord Malcolm. Even though she’d left Thomas cuddled beneath the covers in the bed they shared, she’d been unable to sleep after the turmoil of last night. If she were honest, she hadn’t been sleeping well since that night Kelwin had been in her room. And in her head.
She reached out a trembling hand to Kelwin’s shoulder, then fingered her braid instead. “Kelwin,” she whispered.
His lids fluttered and his eyes slowly opened. His smile widened. “Alyssa.” His voice was rough and low.
She blinked as he slid into her mind again.
Everyone’s safe.
She nodded to his silent statement. “Thank you.”
He shifted and sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “I slept like the dead.”
“You did it.” She sat beside him. “You said you’d keep us safe and you did.”
He placed his hand on hers, tracing a
finger over his skin. “I can touch you. I’m still surprised by that.”
She slowly withdrew her hand. “About yesterday…”
He nodded and straightened. “When we were linked.”
“I don’t know why that happened.”
He looked like he really wanted to say something. “You should talk to Lord Malcolm.”
She shook her head. “I’m not ready to have that conversation. What if there’s something wrong with me?”
“Something wrong with you?” He blinked, an expression of hurt in his blue eyes. “What, like me?”
“No!” She fingered her braid. “I mean, with me. I can’t hear anyone else’s thoughts. Just yours.”
“That’s only because you haven’t practiced.”
“No. You said you were always gifted.”
He tilted his head. “Do you think you are?”
“I… Donnic asked me the same thing. I just don’t want to think about this. Not with Dalton still after me and Thomas.”
“Yeah. Who knows where—”
“Kelwin!” Chelsey cried, flying through the hall toward the table. “You did it!”
The bright smile on Kelwin’s face took Alyssa’s breath.
“Was there ever any doubt, peanut?” he asked with a grin.
Chelsey skidded to a stop, wrapping her hands around the back of Kelwin’s chair. It was obvious she wanted to hug her brother and Alyssa marveled again that he could touch her without pain but nobody else.
“I don’t know how you did it but I’m so grateful,” Chelsey said.
“You just want more boar steaks,” Donnic called.
Alyssa stood up and waved Chelsey into her chair. She watched as Donnic joined them. He beamed at Kelwin and hugged Chelsey. Feeling a little out of place, she stepped back.
“Is this a celebration?” Lady Jayne asked as she came to the table.
“Yes, Mother,” Chelsey said. “We’re safe and sound. All thanks to Kelwin.”
Kelwin’s cheeks reddened as he came to his feet. He lowered his gaze to the floor. “Thanks to Lord Malcolm’s training.”
“Nonsense,” Malcolm said as he stepped up to the table. “You did all the work.”
Alyssa smiled at Kelwin’s mentor as he nodded a greeting to her. He then shook his head. “Kelwin’s gift saved Rosemont, Lady Jayne. Don’t let your son tell you anything different.”
He placed a hand on Kelwin’s shoulder, as she’d seen him do over the past two weeks. Kelwin didn’t as much as flinch at the contact. He could touch Kelwin, just as she could. Did that mean she was gifted or was it all because of Kelwin?
Once again she told herself it didn’t matter. Her hidden talents wouldn’t make a difference to this family. All it did was bring Dalton’s notice toward her. Maybe it even made Dalton kill her father. She couldn’t think about that for more than a second without her heart dipping to her stomach.
She hadn’t brought this particular danger to Rosemont, anyway. She and Thomas weren’t the reason another estate planned an attack. The king’s fees guaranteed that. Every winter that risk was always present.
But how long would it be until Dalton found her and punished this family for keeping her and her brother safe from him?
Chapter 16
Dalton sat at court again, still without the competitor he really wanted to bring against Gregory’s boy. The king sat on a raised platform, a look of excitement in his gray eyes. There was no empty seat beside him as there had been in the throne room, though. He kept the queen’s seat hidden there, and talk was he was still hoping she would return to him. Her and his children, too.
Dalton knew that would never happen. The absence of her chair at the Pageant was very telling, not that anyone in attendance would dare to speak of it. Everyone knew that it was at a match that the king and queen had lost their only daughter just last year.
Princess Christa had been mentally gifted, but Dalton hadn’t wanted to train her. She had a fragile spirit, nothing like what he sensed in Alyssa. She was weak but the king had been so excited to finally have a child who displayed a gift that he’d pressed and pushed until Dalton had put her in a match. He wasn’t surprised when her mind cracked in the second round. Nor when the queen took her sons and catatonic daughter far from the palace. Dalton swallowed his opinion on the matter, though. He wasn’t going to be the one to tell the king, “I told you so.”
He ran his gaze over the assembled nobles. They looked restless and eager for the match to begin. Excited chatter buzzed around the high-ceilinged hall. Dalton knew everyone watched him. He’d been away from the last two events and they were eager to know what he had planned for his return to court.
He smiled as he fingered his Champion pin. He traced the shape of the trophy and crown, relishing the jewels set in the enamel. One of his children would wear another patch after this Pageant. He was sure of it. He wouldn’t let one of Gregory’s Brawns best him again.
He saw that Gregory sat next to Lady Lyn, and she wrapped her hand around his beefy arm. Dalton didn’t miss her company. If he wanted to he could use his gift to make the big dolt unable to do anything to endear himself to any woman. Even the prospect of messing with his rival wouldn’t draw him from the upcoming match, though. He had his four children picked and, though none of them were as strong as Alyssa, he was certain one of his Brains would beat any of Gregory’s Brawns.
The court was draped in red, blue and gold bunting, to mirror the colors of the Champion patch. A banner bearing the winner’s symbol hung above the ring itself, fluttering in the chill breeze through the high windows. Still, the great hall was very warm. Every electric light burned bright and the suits and dresses the spectators wore seemed to reflect the illumination.
Dalton wore one of his favorite suits, this one of sapphire blue. His collar felt tight and a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck. He wouldn’t wipe it away, though. He wouldn’t appear physically weak in the king’s or Gregory’s company. Let them marvel at his hidden mental talents. Let the spectators wonder what tricks were up his finely sewn sleeves. They always did. He wouldn’t give them a reason to doubt his physical well-being despite the scar on his cheek.
The battle containment ring was lined with ropes and spanned twenty-five feet across. Its floor was covered with thick cotton mats. A number of weapons were lined up in each half of the ring for the competitors to use. They never knew if Dalton was going to put in a telepath or a telekinetic, and if the competitor needed an object to throw with their mind they were provided. Gregory’s Brawns could use them with their hands of course.
There were metal rods, heavy leather balls, wooden staffs and iron dumbbells. The Brawns could certainly lift the weapons but his Brains could weaken them with their minds or, as Dalton’s favorite trick, could make them turn the weapons on themselves. His particular competitor today wasn’t gifted that way but neither the king nor Gregory was aware of that. He could make up for any deficiency in his chosen Brain with his own talents.
The announcer walked out into the center of the ring. He was as round as the containment itself, his stout body dressed in a suit of the three colors representing the Champion symbol.
“Welcome to the Pageant!” he called.
The spectators cheered and the king clapped his hands. They obviously expected today’s match to rival any they’d seen all year, now that Dalton was in attendance again. He’d chosen four competitors as Gregory had, but in a twist they didn’t expect he planned to put his best Brain in the first round. He’d make sure his boy beat Gregory’s first three children in quick succession. He didn’t have the luxury to toy with the crowd this time. He’d been absent from the event two months ago and at the last one his children showed very poorly. Today he’d slaughter Gregory’s Brawns and win back the king’s favor.
The first two children were brought into the center of the ring. They’d each spent a few years below the castle by now, and wore expressions of resignation for the coming fight. There w
as a hint of excitement on their faces, too.
Gregory’s Brawn was a tall girl of about fourteen, and her eyes looked hard. She was very fit and muscular, her body broad in her blue Pageant outfit. She had several Champion patches sewn onto her uniform’s sleeves. Her tunic and loose trousers matched her opponent’s, except for the color. Brains always wore yellow.
Dalton’s boy wasn’t much younger than the Brawn he faced, but he was much less fit looking. Though he had only three patches on his tunic he was very gifted, if not anywhere near his own or Alyssa’s level. He was the dark-skinned child he’d trained so fiercely over the past weeks. He had to be ready. Dalton wouldn’t accept failure this time.
The boy was a strong telepath, and with Dalton’s training he could easily get into his opponents’ heads and mess with their thoughts and emotions. It was his only chance, really. If Dalton himself had to assist this child once their opponent was weakened mentally, who would be any the wiser?
He knew without question that none of the spectators had any mental gifts. He’d honed his own divining skills over the years since first coming to the castle fifteen years ago. It was what kept him safe back then and what helped him locate his competitors now. He could sense the whisper of talent, even from miles away.
The announcer drew the children together in the center of the ring and the two touched closed fists. They stepped back to opposite sides and a buzzer sounded signaling the start of the first round. His child immediately sent a blast of pain into the Brawn’s mind. The girl crumpled to the mat, clutching her head in her hands. She began to cry but his child showed no mercy. Dalton made a note to reward him afterward. Only if he finished as Champion today, of course.
He never really gave much attention to the care the gifted received downstairs in their cells. They numbered over one-hundred now and were kept very well. They were provided with ample food and every comfort like the pampered pets they were. He’d seen that care first hand just last week, and was pleased to see they were still considered so valuable to the king.
Gifted Page 12