Unspoken
Page 18
I envisioned the two of them, sitting in this very same position. My father knew he would become king, having been the only child of my grandparents. What else had there been to know?
And he had used Abiyaya’s magic. Why would he trust the very thing he hated?
“This darkness in his heart,” I said hesitantly. “Did you see the lands he destroyed? The people he would kill?”
Abiyaya watched the mixture in the dish and swirled it with her finger. “Yes, I did.” She answered softly, as if the words pained her. Only it wasn’t the words. It was what had happened to my blood in that silver dish. It had turned black and thick as molasses. I saw her shiver as she drew her finger from it and wiped it away on her robe.
“What does it mean?”
“It means something terrifying will happen to your heart,” Abiyaya said in a calm voice. “It means that there is a darkness that will try to consume you. I see so much pain that it almost kills you.”
I gulped at the words. “But does it?”
Abiyaya gave a smile that disappeared as quickly as it came. She glanced at my necklace and when she met my eyes again, her expression softened. “No.”
I recalled the words of Pyrus. You speak of dark and death as if they are the worst things that can happen to a person. But what good had come from darkness or death so far in my life? Both were equally haunting and pecked away at me at every turn.
“I don’t want to know any more,” I decided. I needed to get to Wargrave’s to deliver the rest of our bargain. I didn’t have time for this.
“I warned your father many times afterwards of the consequences of his actions. Now I warn you. Will you listen just the same?”
“I am not my father,” I stated.
“But you are,” Abiyaya reminded me gently. Lightning fast, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me forward, knocking the silver dish of my darkness onto the floor. With my free hand, I went for the dagger strapped to my thigh. “Let me go.”
Abiyaya grinned. “Not until you tell me that the first thought you had was not to strike me dead,” she said.
A flash in her eyes, something dark and fathomless. The scars on her hands grated my skin like sandpaper, reminding me that she had survived far worse than anything I could ever manage. I relaxed my hold on the dagger’s hilt. “It wasn’t,” I lied, my heartbeat speeding by the second.
Abiyaya took me in for a moment longer before letting go, looking entirely unconvinced. “Quick to anger,” she said as she stood up and paced the house. It took me a second to realize that she wasn’t talking to me any longer. “Arrogant. Untrusting. Beautiful and cruel.” The fireplace across the room suddenly lit itself and blazed a brilliant fire. “She is not the one. Not in the slightest. You saw what happened to the blood!”
“Who—” I started, but I got my answer as soon as the word left my tongue. The smoldering wood in the fireplace burned so hot that smoke began to permeate the room, drawing tears from my eyes. It roared with crackling flames, seemingly wanting to burst from the stone structure and consume the room. I recalled from pictures in books about the underworld, how the Uncanny were built from fire itself. For not all things were what they seemed, and the demons were liars. Fire gave light and warmth, but rarely was it gentle.
But it was not a demon from my picture books that emerged from the blaze. It was a woman, lithe and naked, licked by the blistering sparks around her. I blinked. Once. Twice. But she was still there, standing in front of us. Lines of fire trailed behind her, shockingly without burning the room around her.
“No,” Abiyaya said, answering an unspoken question from the woman. “I refuse. I will do nothing of the sort.”
Too choked to speak a word, I sat there wide-eyed as the fire-licked woman took two strides and stood in front of me. She was beautiful. Her skin glowed waves of orange and yellow, and her brilliant red hair—the color of blood—passed over her breasts and down to her hips. She looked at me with black eyes, considering me as one would livestock at an auction. I looked back at her, guarding my eyes like one would against the sun.
“It will be done,” she said simply.
And then she turned and disappeared back into the hearth.
“She said you could,” Abiyaya told me. “But I hold my doubts.”
I couldn’t find the words to reply. I tried, but nothing came out. I was confused and terrified by what I had just seen. Her voice reminded me of one I’d heard in a dream, and the sight of her was something right out of Farrell’s book there in the Barge. I’d have been an idiot not to believe what I’d just seen. But fear did strange things to people.
“I have seen the steps you will make,” said Abiyaya, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen the woman you will become. A queen of death.”
A queen of death was what I’d become if I followed my father’s footsteps. Henry knew it, too. He’d tried to run and might have been killed for it.
“Then kill me,” I said, forcing the words out. The haughty response was little comfort to me. My hands trembled. I put them under my legs to hide them. “I don’t know half of what is going on, and I’m leaning toward not caring, but—” I risked a shaky finger and pointed to the fireplace. “A woman just came out of there and, well, that isn’t normal.”
Something flickered in Abiyaya’s eyes. “I didn’t kill your father, and I won’t kill you,” said the old woman, almost regrettably. “For some crazy reason beyond this world, Rixon sees something in you that I don’t.”
“Rixon?”
Abiyaya nodded. “The Queen of the Gwylis,” she said, hobbling away. “She likes you. I don’t.”
“Well, she doesn’t exist. The Gwylis have been divided for ages.” I shook my head, thinking back to what the librarian had said about his queen. “I was told that she was gone.”
“Gone in one sense, and here in another.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and groaned. “What are you talking about? This isn’t correct.”
“And you know this because you’re in love with one of her people?”
A gasp tumbled out of me. My thoughts warred between threatening this old woman with the dungeons and confessing every little thing I felt about Fray. I forced a calming breath and faced Abiyaya.
“That is none of your business.”
“And you’re heading back to Wargrave’s. You know what he is?”
“I don’t care what he is. He helped me.”
Abiyaya turned. “At what cost? Nobody helps someone without a price.”
I stood tall and confident. As tall I could in that small house. “It’s not something I cannot pay.”
“The princess with stars in her eyes and darkness in her heart, you will bring nothing but death!” she cried out. She fixed a gnarly finger on me. “Rixon is wrong. You can do no good!”
“And that is your opinion. You don’t know everything. You can’t know everything.”
The anger had left her face, replaced with pity. “Oh, Princess. It is beyond your control now.”
Chapter 26
I rushed out of Abiyaya’s home and down the alley until I found myself back in the market square, safe, where the crowd was too dense to notice me. I stood frozen, sickness rising in my stomach. I had gone through a series of emotions in the past few months, but nothing came close to someone telling me that I was akin to the demons of the underworld.
She’s crazy, I told myself. She's completely insane. But thinking only increased my concerns. How could I omit what I had just seen and heard and continue believing in the Voiceless’ magic and Henry’s ghost? I spun in circles, even though I wasn’t moving. My belly lurched. Why was everyone walking around me as if nothing was wrong? Everything was wrong. Everything was terrifying.
My thoughts thrashed in my head, flailing around blindly. I shut my eyes tight. I ran my hands through my hair, using the sensation to bring me back down. I traced my fingers along my face, down my cheeks and to my lips, reminding myself that I was all right. Breathe.
/> I shook my arms loose and relaxed my shoulders, easing the pain of the tension there. My heart knocked against my chest, unwilling to slow.
I wanted Fray. I wanted his calming scent to lull me. But Fray wasn’t here. I had to deal with this myself.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Count.
I drew my face deeper into my hood. I knew the words—the slow and careful count to three that steadied my heart. I couldn’t turn back now. Not when I was so close. My feet slowly uprooted themselves and I began to walk again. I was going to get through this no matter what it took.
With these words echoing in my mind, I eventually found myself at my original destination, feeling strangely calm in the glint and gloom of the Barge. I cupped the jewels in my pocket and headed up the steps to Wargrave’s shop.
My hand raised to knock when movement in my peripheral caught my eye. Something clanged and fell to the ground somewhere in a nearby alleyway, but it was too dark to get a good look. Probably that mean, old cat, I thought.
The old man stood at the front counter, his head in a book, greasy hair falling in strands. At the sound of the door, he jerked his head up and stared at me with a grin full of missing, rotting teeth.
“You’re back,” he said and cast a queer eye to me. “Tell me, do you have my money?”
I let the door slam shut and shifted my hand around in my pocket. My fingers shook with anticipation. I’d let my guard down when I’d allowed Abiyaya to take me to her home. I refused to let that happen here.
“I have it,” I said. “Maybe even a little interest, which should satisfy you.”
Wargrave clasped his hands behind his back and paced the length of the counter, watching me all the while.
“Do you want to see something?”
He rounded the counter and approached. My fingers clenched around the stolen jewels, ready to throw them and run if it came down to it. But he didn’t get close enough to warrant a response. Instead, he turned and walked toward the cellar door in the left-hand corner of the shop.
“I really would like to close this deal,” I told him uneasily.
He ignored me and gave a hacking, mucus-filled cough.
“This you’ll want to see, I guarantee it.”
I scooped up the contents of my pocket and laid them all out on the counter. My mother’s jewels looked too bright to be in a place like this. I looked down at them for a moment, took a deep breath, and pushed them away. “That should be enough.”
“Tsk,” said Wargrave from the open cellar door. “There’s time enough for that.”
I stepped backward toward the front door. “I really must be going.”
“The Gwylis can live hundreds of years. Did you know that?”
I clutched my arm, nails digging into my skin. “What do you know of The Gwylis?”
Wargrave smiled, humoring me. “I know more than you, I guarantee it.”
I shook my head. I'd had enough surprises for one day. “If it pleases you—”
“Pleases me?” the shop owner interrupted. He threw back his head and laughed. “I have jewels and your coin. Nothing but things that shall be gone when rent is due. You, Princess, oh, you have something far more valuable. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Do you want to see what I keep down in my cellar?”
I snorted. “Does that really work for you? Luring strange girls into your home?”
Suddenly, the floor shook, and a deep roar came from beneath me. I exchanged glances with Wargrave, who beckoned me toward the door. But I held back. Don’t go, Isabelle, the voices told me. You don’t want to see this.
“What is down there?” I asked.
“Come and see.” He turned and went down the stairs.
I exhaled deeply. Counting to three under my breath, I took the same number of tentative steps toward the open door. “It’s been a strange day.”
“Has it now?” asked Wargrave with mock interest. His voice faded the further he went into the darkness. “Do you want to see a Gwylis? I have one, you know.”
I clenched my teeth. “You’re a liar.”
No answer came. I struggled between anger at the thought of Wargrave keeping an animal captive in his cellar and curiosity—I wanted to see the kind of wolf that Fray transformed into.
I ran my hand down my face, taking one step onto the landing, and then one step back. Oh, gods, what am I doing? I took out my dagger and held it tightly. It could be a trap. He could be luring me to my death.
Another roar from below cemented my decision. I descended the steps, touching the wall on either side, careful since Wargrave didn’t seem to believe in lights. If there was a real, live Gwylis down there, maybe I could learn from it.
Even before Wargrave clicked the lock open, I felt my heart thudding, my palms sweating. I braced myself, telling myself that maybe it was like Fray. One of the good guys.
Wargrave clicked his tongue. “Look.”
The door swung open. I looked, though I could scarcely breathe.
It stood, its head nearly touching the ceiling, its chest level with my head. Its white and gray fur bristled at the sight of me. Strange yellow eyes stared down, curious. It bared its teeth as if it would swallow the continent whole. It was bigger than the wolf I’d fought in the woods and a far cry from any wolf I had ever seen.
The ceiling was too low to accommodate its size, so it lowered its head and watched me with an unblinking gaze. I forced myself to steady. To remember that it—he—was not always this way. I kept my eyes on his for a long time, searching for any hint of familiarity—a human hint. But there was nothing there. All the Gwylis’ face registered was anger and fear.
Helplessness.
“Why do you have him?” I asked through a shuddering breath. I drew my dagger and watched the wolf lower himself. There was a rustiness to his movements as if he were in pain. “Let him go.”
“Why does one keep any pet?” Wargrave asked, ignoring my second statement.
“He is not a pet. He was once a person. How can you keep him this way?”
“He is dying, Princess. In more ways than one.”
“Dying…” My words stalled as if my lungs held no air. I watched the great wolf lay his head upon his front paws. I was a fraction on his size, but the way the wolf shivered and hunkered low and submissive, he seemed diminished.
“I make a medicine every month to delay death,” Wargrave said. “As a human, he would die much quicker. But as a wolf, we can stall it for as long as possible.”
“Stall it?” I asked, breathlessly. “He looks ready to die now.”
“It’s not my business to ask. I can do most things a healer can, but the healing of the mind is another matter all its own.”
Healing of the mind? Was this wolf like Fray in that he did not want to have this curse set upon him? Had he been one of the ones to break off from the rest of the…pack?
I shook my head. I resisted the urge to reach out and stroke his fur, run my fingers through it. He had given up. I wasn’t sure how long ago it had happened, but he had given up. I wondered if he would cry if he could.
I forced myself to turn away and walk back into the dimly lit corridor. I leaned forward, pressing my palms against the stone, wanting to empty my stomach. This couldn’t be what the Gwylis had become. Mere shadows of the power Fray had described.
“Is this the future you want, Princess?” asked Wargrave.
I pressed my hands against my stomach. When I thought of the Gwylis, of Fray, I thought of the wolf I had fought in the woods. Although he was terrifying, I saw him as otherworldly, spectacular, and almost godlike.
But this wolf was not a god. He was a shell.
Wargrave shut the door and turned, adding, “But who does?”
“You’re a monster.”
Wargrave laughed. “What did you think happened to the Gwylis?” He laughed again. “Stupid girl. They died. Those who survived were silenced and became slaves, and those who were not silenced
went into hiding. There is no cause to fight when there is no hope to fight for.”
“But there are those who want me dead.”
“Rogues. Nothing more. They have no guidance. What is a pack without a leader?”
“And you?”
“Bitten. I was a soldier in your family’s wars. This is a fake.”
Wargrave plucked out the unmatched eye and held it out to me.
I politely refused it.
“You’re a sympathizer then.” I looked away, thinking of Henry. “I know another like you.”
“The magic of the Gwylis is not so easily tamed. Even in their human forms, they feel the pull of it.”
I remembered the encounter in the woods and the way the Gwylis’ hand lit up like sparks. So, they could use magic even as humans, but more so as wolves. At least, that was my understanding. I was beginning to understand the curse. The thought of how much more there was to it made my throat tighten.
“It fills them up, overwhelms them until they transform, and then it is like they are free. The Uncanny works through them. Did you think the deal was without a price? It is a curse, through and through.” Wargrave gestured to the wolf’s room. “Aquarius has seen a tougher life than you could ever imagine.”
My heart jerked in my chest. “Aquarius.”
Wargrave nodded, moving toward the stairwell.
“Stupid girls like you who think their decisions matter in the grand scheme of things.” He took a step and let me pass. “I gave you the tooth from the goodness of my heart. You wouldn’t want your family knowing what you did, do you?”
I couldn’t help but bristle. “How dare you threaten me.”
Wargrave looked unaffected. “Your jewels are still not enough.”
I gritted my teeth, grating them to keep from screaming. Was giving me the tooth before I’d paid in full truly done because the shopkeeper cared or were his motives altogether different? “You are not a good person.”