by Fran Jacobs
"Why?" I demanded. "Why not? You thought she had gone as far as to forge a book to make this story of hers seem real. Why would she not do this?" Sorron refused to meet my gaze and I swallowed tightly. "What aren't you telling me?" I demanded. "What has changed to make you now give Mayrila the benefit of the doubt when you refused to believe anything that she had to say before? You have to tell me, Grandfather. This concerns me, I have every right to be involved!"
"Yes," Sorron said, wearily. "Yes. You do." He took another long sip of brandy, silently nodding his head in thanks as Trellany topped the glass up. "There was no plan, Candale. I know that now. There was no plan. Those books, they were genuine."
"How?" I whispered. "How do you know that? Did someone look at them for you? Why didn't you tell me?"
"No, no one looked at them. I ... I never intended to ask anyone to look at them."
"But-"
"I questioned her, Dale," Sorron said suddenly. "I questioned Mayrila on a Truth Stone. That revealed that the books are genuine, as far as she knows, and that she does truly believe you are this Shadow Seer. There is no plan, Candale, I'm convinced of that now."
I stared at him, slack-jawed. "Y-you questioned her," I gasped finally. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because it isn't something that I'm proud of, Candale," Sorron said. "I haven't even told your father!"
I shook my head in disbelief.
"I questioned the bard as well," Sorron added quietly.
"Grandfather!"
"I had to! She left me with no damn choice! After I learnt she had told you about the Seer prophecies I had to talk to her, question her, see what other secrets she might have told and to whom. She said that she had told the bard, so of course I had to question him as well."
"That's why you weren't surprised when I told you and Father that Teveriel knew what Mayrila believed me to be," I whispered. And that was why he had been rubbing his wrist when he came to see me.
For a Truth Stone to work, the person being questioned was held against it with a tight leather strap around their wrist, their palm placed flat against the stone's surface. When the person was secure, the Questioner would then speak a few words of an ancient spell that would activate the stone, before asking their questions. The person being questioned had no choice but to speak the truth. If they tried to lie the stone would grow white hot and burn the palm of the hand pressed against it. It always left those being questioned shaken up afterwards, ill and a little sore, especially around the wrist, from where the strap had been fastened. Most people suffered mild bruising for a good week or so afterwards, if they had been telling the truth. If they had been lying, the damage was a lot more severe.
But it was a failsafe means of questioning. The stone couldn't be cheated, it couldn't be bribed and, unlike torture, which had long been banned in Carnia, people wouldn't just say what the torturer wanted to hear. Despite this my grandfather only used it in extreme cases, for crimes of treason, or murder. It was unpopular amongst some groups because it could also be used to bind someone's word in an unbreakable bond. Usually that part of the stone's power was reserved for those being raised into the ranks of the Royal Guard, to make sure they were loyal to the royal family, but some people feared it might be used by a corrupt king to bind more than just the Guard.
"Yes," Sorron said. "But you will be happy to know that he is genuine and completely trustworthy, as is Mayrila. I had her bound afterwards, to keep this a secret, and she can't break this binding anymore than she could lie. I wish I had thought to do it earlier, because then, perhaps, you would not know the truth about ..." he glanced quickly and meaningfully at Trellany and I shook my head as I understood his unasked question. No, Trellany did not know Mayrila was my mother. She knew what Mayrila believed me to be, I had explained that to her after so much of it had come out following the discovery of Lykeia's suicide, but I hadn't told her Mayrila was my mother and I didn't want to. Not unless I had to. Sorron nodded in understanding, and finished, "... about her belief of you." He closed his eyes, looking weary. "No one has heard any of this from her lips, Candale. And I know you can trust your family to have not told anyone."
"Yes," I said, "of course I trust my family. D-did you bind Teveriel?"
Sorron hesitated before answering, "Yes," he said. "I felt I had to."
"Oh," I said, swallowing. The idea that Teveriel had gone through this, the questioning, the binding, because of me, made me feel uncomfortable. But another part of me felt relieved. He had been through all of this and he was still around. It hadn't made him flee the castle, and he was trustworthy. Could the same be said of the other courtiers who had always considered themselves my 'friend'? "All right."
"So, that is why I never got around to finding anyone to examine her books, because there wasn't any need. I ... I had hoped to just avoid your questions until you forgot about it, grew bored of waiting for me and found something else to obsess over-"
"I'm not a child, Grandfather," I said sharply.
"No," he agreed sadly, "and I underestimated you. I didn't know that you would ask Lykeia about it, I had no idea he would turn traitor, or that I would have to tell you any of this. I didn't want you to know this, Candale. I knew you would only worry and I didn't want that. And, even though the books are genuine and Mayrila does believe you're this prophet, you still don't have any seer gifts."
"You should still have told me," I said. "Gifts or no! Because I was still worrying about it! I couldn't forget what Mayrila had told me or how that boy looked. I don't know how you thought I could."
"I realise that now, Candale, and I'm sorry. I was so busy trying to convince myself that there was nothing to worry about because of your lack of gifts that I didn't give your fear enough credit. I'm sorry."
His frank apology made me feel uncomfortable. I was so used to Sorron being always right, being the adult, the one who made the right decisions, who knew what was best, that it left me feeling unsettled and shaken to have him admit to having been so wrong about something. I forced myself to smile at him and shrugged. "It doesn't matter now," I said. "I'm more worried about what this means for me. If Mayrila believes this story, and this Order has come to the same belief about me, independently of Mayrila, then ... then perhaps there are others and perhaps ... perhaps there is something in this after all."
"We can't jump to that conclusion straight away, son," Sorron said, holding up his hand to stop my rush of protest. "I'll admit that it's starting to look bad, but until we know something more about the Seer we won't really know what we're dealing with. You say that this concerns you, that you want to be involved, well, now's your chance to prove that you mean it. I want you to go to the library, as I suggested as a means to distract you, and see what you can find out. It is really important that we discover what we can about this Seer so we can work out why the Order would believe that you're him enough to want to kill you, when you have no gifts. It can't simply be because you resemble the boy in a few old pictures, there has to be more to it than that. I would do it myself but I'm so busy trying to find out more about this Order, where they come from, how they operate and so on. I can't ask your father to do this because he's simply dismissing the Order's belief as 'foolish and treacherous' and clearly won't be able to look into this properly. And I don't want to get anyone else involved. I already have people investigating this attack on you, and the Order, more fully. If I asked them to investigate the Seer as well, well, that would be giving rise to the belief that I believe it, and I don't want that. But you ... you're a common face in the library. No one will suspect anything of you if you go there. You can claim you're trying to keep up with your studies until a new tutor can be found for you ..."
"All right," I said quietly. "Can I take Teveriel with me, to help? He knows everything already and is trustworthy, you've proved that."
"Yes," Sorron said, trying not to flinch. "Yes, of course. Trellany, too."
"Yes, of course." I glanced at my silent bodyguard. "What ... what happens
if I look in the library and find out that they were right? What happens if I am the Shadow Seer? What will happen to me then?"
Sorron's face was ashen and he wouldn't meet my eyes. "You know the answer to that, Candale," was all he said.
I swallowed tightly. The look on his face was more than enough answer to my question. If I were the Shadow Seer, my life would always be in danger. I would always need Trellany around me, probably even more guards, as the Order would no doubt step up its operation to kill me. If I were the Shadow Seer, my life would become one of permanent imprisonment.
***
Early the following day, Teveriel, Trellany and I made our way to the castle library. It had always been a favourite haunt of mine, even though I had an extensive library of my own, because I never knew what hidden treasures, old forgotten books and scrolls, I was going to find tucked away on the dark and dusty shelves. It was also a good place to go to avoid the adoring attentions of my peers when they wanted to take me hunting or invite me to a private party, but all I wanted was to be alone. They never thought to look for me in the library, but then I doubted that many people even knew where the library was. There were rarely more than a handful of people in there at any one time.
And today was no different. When we slid into the dark room, and I breathed in that familiar smell of dust, leather and old parchment, there was only one other person there, a blonde woman sitting at a table surrounded by books. She glanced up at us and gave me a polite smile, before turning back to her reading.
"Oh," Teveriel whispered in awe. His eyes were very wide, like a child's, as he twisted to look around himself at the floor to ceiling shelves of books. "Where do we start?"
"Folklore," Trellany said quietly, with a nervous glance at me. "I think that is the best place to start, Prince Candale, to see what references are made and where we can go from there. From what you've said about this, no one knows much about the Shadow Seer so I can't see there being any historical references. I think folklore and mythology will be our best bet."
I nodded in agreement. "It seems as good a place as any."
"It's odd," Teveriel said to me, as I led the way through the library's corridors of book-filled shelves, "that I have never heard of this Shadow Seer. Not a song, not a story, nothing."
"I doubt he breathes fire or eats people, Teveriel," I said, with a nervous grin. "And if there isn't a beast that needs slaying so a maiden can be saved, it doesn't make for a very entertaining song."
"That's very true. You know, I had always thought it would be fun to be a monster. You could go wherever you wanted, do what you wanted..."
"Eat who you wanted."
"Exactly," Teveriel laughed. "A good, easy life."
"Until a knight comes along to kill you and rescue the maiden you kidnapped," I pointed out.
"Well, that's just bad luck," Teveriel said.
"Those damn knights," I added, and then I caught the look in Trellany's eyes, disapproval directed at Teveriel. I coughed uncomfortably and quickened my pace through the library without another word.
The folklore section looked no different from any other part of the library. Leather bound books in dark colours stacked high on wooden shelves that reached from floor to ceiling. Staring up at them I realised just how big a task this was going to be. We didn't know where to start. We couldn't even be sure if there was anything to be found. This could all be a big waste of time. Or, I could find something that would change everything that I knew about myself. And the sudden realisation of that made nervous butterflies start dancing around in my belly.
"It's strange," I said quietly, as I reached for a slim volume and started to flick through the pages. "I ... I always knew that I'd be written about, as a prince, as a king. I was even looking forward to it, in a way, to read what others had to say about me, but this is very different. If we find something here that confirms Mayrila's belief about me then it will be in a book written before I was born, before even my parents were born. I find that unsettling, even a little frightening."
"Well," Trellany said, appraising the books with a curious eye, "I don't think we should concern ourselves with that yet. We should just take down some books, make ourselves comfortable and get started." She helped herself to a random selection of books, which she piled high in her strong arms. "I'll go and get us a table by the fire. This place is a little draughty."
"Good idea," I said, and Teveriel and I watched her leave as she went to claim a table for us.
"You don't need to look so nervous," Teveriel said, taking down an armful of books. "A book won't bite you."
"I know," I said, with a forced smile. "It's just ... well, there are so many books here. Lykeia was looking into it for me for days, weeks, and he found nothing. Why are we so sure that we will?"
"Lykeia was a traitor," Teveriel pointed out. "It's a safe bet to make that he probably lied to you many times. Besides, you did say he was part of this 'Order' that tried to kill you?"
I nodded. That morning, when I'd asked for his help in searching the library, I had explained everything to Teveriel that my grandfather had told me. He had been shocked to hear that my tutor had, indirectly, tried to kill me, but at the same time I think he was relieved. He still lived with the guilt of having been used by Mayrila to trick me and I think a small part of him found it easier to bear that guilt now that he knew that what Mayrila had told me, part of it at least, had been proved correct.
"Well, in that case," Teveriel continued, "Lykeia would probably already know a lot about the Seer, so why would he need to bother to look into it at all? It was just used as an excuse to lure you into the gardens, Prince Candale. There might actually be a lot of books on this subject after all."
"Oh," I said. "Yes. That's very true."
"Don't worry about it, Prince Candale. We'll find something, even if it takes us years!" He flashed me a quick, lopsided grin, patted my arm gently in a, meant to be, comforting manner, and headed off to join Trellany at the table, leaving me alone, staring at all the books on the shelves. I took a deep breath, and then another one, reached for a random handful of books and headed back to join Trellany and Teveriel.
We didn't say anything much for most of the day, just worked on quietly, adding more and more books to the 'useless' pile. We took breaks in the library, wandering around the room, rubbing aching shoulders and stiff necks. We even had our lunch there, getting crumbs in between the pages of the books, yet we still found nothing.
Eventually it became hard to see properly, even with lanterns spread all around us, my head was pounding from squinting at the small, curled script and my fingers were covered in black ink. I knew that the others were feeling the strain of it as well but they wouldn't stop unless I suggested it, so with a reluctant sigh, I closed the book I was reading. "We should stop for the night," I said.
"Are you sure?" Trellany asked me, with a cautious glance.
"It's too dark to see properly now," I told her. "I don't think we have much choice."
"Perhaps not," Teveriel agreed. "We can go back to your suite and have some supper, maybe play some cards?"
"Yes, that would be nice."
"I'll just hide these," Trellany said, "so that no one will see what we were up to, and then we can go."
It took Trellany less time to hide the books than it had for us to find them and, when she was done, we headed back to my suite to order our supper and play a few hands of Chase the Queen. While we played Teveriel told us stories about what I had been missing in Court while I had been hiding in my rooms. A few hours later, he left us, and I went to bed.
And I fell asleep, straight into a dream.
I was back in that gloomy, dank cell with the small, dark-eyed figure standing in front of me and the dragon off to one side. As before, I found myself terrified of the child and I started to back away. This time it didn't seem to notice the dragon and it followed me until I was pressed up against the cold stone wall with it standing in front of me. It was so close th
at I could feel its icy breath against my trembling hands and its dark-eyed stare seemed to burn into me, burn through me. Desperately I turned my head away, trying to look anywhere else but at this child.
As I turned I saw something dark and billowing, a black mist, seeping through the dragon's curved yellow talons. It didn't move into the room, it didn't leave the safety of those massive claws. It just billowed and swelled amongst the talons like some sort of living ooze. It sent a chill down my spine. There was something very cold and malicious about the fog, something inhuman.
"Ellenessia comes, Seer," the child whispered, in a voice that made all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Then something icy and hard clamped around my wrists. I cried out, whirling around to see that the child's fingers were now curled around my flesh. The grip was so strong I was sure the pressure would break the bones in my wrists. I had to bite on my lip, until I tasted blood in my mouth, to stop myself from crying out again. "You have to help me, Candale," the child gasped. "You have to!"
Suddenly I was awake in my bed, with my heart thundering away and my wrists throbbing. Desperately I rolled over and fumbled to strike my tinderbox so that I could light my candle. When the orange flame flickered grudgingly to life, I moved closer to it to examine my wrists.
Wrapped around each of my arms were long, thin bruises, the exact shape of two sets of fingers.
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* * *
Chapter Ten
THE FIVE SIGNS
For a moment I could only sit there, staring at the bruises wrapped around my wrists, unable to understand exactly what I was seeing. I felt as though I was still in a dream, everything was groggy and heavy and, even though I could see the bruises on my wrists and feel the stinging pain that came from them, it felt detached. My eyes wouldn't focus on them properly, my mind refused to comprehend that the bruises were there, nothing felt real and, for a brief moment, I wasn't sure where I was or what was going on.
Then it hit me. I was awake and these marks were real and, with a cry of shock and pain, I lurched from my bed, snatched up my candle and went bursting into Trellany's room.