Wolfsbane Winter

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Wolfsbane Winter Page 7

by Jane Fletcher


  The thought was one that surfaced from time to time. Usually, Alana dismissed it as the normal sort of self-doubt that afflicted everyone, apart from the most narcissistic of egoists, but for the first time she felt genuine uncertainty. Was she picking it up from Reyna?

  “Please, Alana. For me. For us. Promise that you’ll try.”

  *

  Thick curtains covered the windows. The ceiling, walls, and floor had been painted black, diminishing the light yet further. The overall effect, when combined with the red wax candles and chalk pentagram scrawled around the silver chair in the middle of the room, merely served to reinforce Alana’s opinion of Orrin. She would have been sure he was a complete charlatan were it not for the voice in her head when he had placed his finger on her lips. He was waiting for her now, wearing long white robes in counterpoint to the absurdly theatrical decor.

  Orrin waved her to the chair. “Please, be seated.”

  Alana tried to swallow her misgivings. Her attempt met with very limited success, but it was too late to start coming up with excuses. As Orrin shut the door, she turned her head for a last glimpse of Reyna and her mother, waiting in the antechamber outside.

  Orrin walked in a circle, lighting each of the red candles in turn. Once the last candle was burning, the increased illumination allowed Alana to see the previously missed small table at one side of the room, also painted black. Candlelight glinted on several metallic objects arranged on it. The only item with a function she recognized was a silver goblet.

  Orrin picked it up and handed it to her. “Drink this.”

  Alana sniffed and took a cautious sip. “Kava?”

  “Just a light concoction, to help you relax.”

  “If you’d said, I could have prepared my own draft.”

  “Oh yes, you do study herbalism, don’t you? I’d forgotten.” Orrin’s tone was too bland to be completely credible. “Never mind. The one I’ve produced will be fine.”

  Alana swilled the kava around in the goblet and took another sniff, while toying with the idea of refusing to drink it. Was the drug really necessary? Yet Alana could hardly deny that she was tense and her choices were limited. Either she could comply with Orrin’s instructions, or she could give in to her distrust of the man and go. The latter option was by far the more appealing, except that it would leave her with a lot of explaining to do to her parents. For a moment, Alana’s decision hung in the balance, but then she raised the goblet to her lips and drained it.

  As a herbalist, Alana was familiar with the effects of kava. Before long, the faint numbing of her lips and tongue became noticeable. She waited for the relaxed sense of well-being and clarity of thought to follow. Instead, her pulse began to race and her head spun. The tingling in her lips flowed away from her mouth, down her neck, and rippled over the entire surface of her skin.

  “What else was in the potion?” Alana could hear the alarm in her own voice.

  “A few minor trace elements, just to aid the process. Nothing significant.”

  “You should have told me what it was before giving it to me to drink.”

  Orrin smiled as he walked around the chair. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a little presumptuous, but you know I only have your best interests at heart. A great future awaits you, and I’m going to help you achieve it.”

  He was lying. Suddenly, Alana was quite certain of it. She was in the process of rising when a noose dropped over her shoulders, binding her to the chair. Before she could manage more than a gasp of surprise, a band of cloth was wedged between her teeth, gagging her.

  Orrin reappeared by her side. “Don’t be alarmed. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  More lies.

  “This is going to be a delicate operation. If you were to move or shout at the wrong time, it might have unfortunate consequences. Please believe me. You need to be restrained for your own good.”

  Lying. He was lying.

  Orrin pulled a fresh length of cord from his sleeve and started binding her wrists to the armrest of the chair. Alana wanted to struggle, but her limbs were shaking and her muscles were seized with cramps. The kava had been little more than a disguise for whatever else had been in Orrin’s potion. Even if she were not tied, Alana did not think she would have had the strength to walk to the door. But she could have crawled. She would have done anything to get out of the room and away.

  Abruptly, Orrin was standing before her, with one of the items from the table in his hands. Alana had not seen him move. Had she passed out briefly? She tried to focus on the candles, to see how far they had burned down, but her vision was distorted. Light and color were smeared. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Sweat trickled down her back and sides, soaking into the waistband of her pants.

  Orrin came closer. Alana’s eyesight cleared briefly, enough for her to see that the item he held looked like a small steel club, no more than a foot in length. One end was engraved with cross-hatching, either as decoration or to provide a secure grip. Bands of green light danced up and down a flattened surface along the other end. What sort of weapon was it?

  As if in answer to her thought, Orrin spoke. “This device was brought back from the wastelands some years ago by a band of Iron Wolf mercenaries. It’s lain in the king’s armory since then. Nobody knew what it was. In fact, I still can’t give you a name for it, but I know what its purpose is. You can think of it as a sort of lens, if you like. It sharpens up thoughts, and it’s going to assist me in focusing my talent on you. It will give me the keen edge to cut through the barriers you’ve built around your mind.”

  Wielding the metal bar as if it were indeed a carving knife, Orrin sliced through the air. The flattened section swept by Alana’s face, passing a scant inch from her cheek. She flinched although the device did not touch her, and despite the absence of physical contact, some part of Alana was severed. Like taking peel off an orange, a strip of the casing around her mind was cut away.

  The universe flowed in. Had the gag not been in her mouth, Alana would have screamed, from shock rather than pain. An avalanche of emotion overwhelmed her. Anger, love, regret, pride, amusement, disgust. Any consciousness that she might have claimed as her own was lost in the torrent from outside.

  Again the bar passed before Alana’s eyes. Another gap in her head opened up and more emotions flooded in. Orrin’s smug triumph. Her mother’s excited hopes. Reyna’s optimistic concern. The disappointment of the stable boy in the yard outside. The boredom of a guard on sentry duty. A courtier’s irritation. A lover’s desire. A thief’s greed. A widow’s grief. The whole of Ellaye was streaming into her head. Alana could not pick her own thoughts clear from the confusion.

  Still Orrin sliced with his bar. How much more was there to the world? The arcane device was flaying her mind, laying her soul exposed and utterly vulnerable. She no longer knew herself. She no longer existed. The onslaught obliterated and overwrote everything that she could call Alana.

  With relief, she embraced the dark jaws of unconsciousness that consumed her.

  *

  For the merest instant upon waking, Alana wondered what was going on, before the tumult of the world ripped all coherent thought to shreds. Stabs of anger and dismay filled her head, filtered through a choking web of terror. Further away, the thunderous roar of love and hate seethed around nodes of other emotions. Her identity was lost amid the chaos.

  Desperately, Alana clawed at her senses, trying to use whatever they could tell her as building blocks to construct some self-awareness. Soft pressure along her back revealed that she was lying on a bed or couch. The acrid bite of smelling salts defined her nose. Sunlight glowed red through her closed eyelids. Someone was whimpering softly, while other voices talked in the background.

  “He ought to have known.”

  “But what are we going to do?”

  “What can we do?”

  Alana tried to concentrate on the words and ignore the way they sparked new bursts of irritation, but another emotion was strengthening
. Anxious satisfaction was getting closer, and then Alana heard a door open. The bitter anger that had greeted her when she first woke flared to fresh heights.

  “About time.”

  “I’m sorry. It wasn’t where I thought it was.”

  At the sound of the new voice, the terror erupted, obliterating everything else. The soft whimpering became a half-scream.

  “She’s awake.”

  “Good. She needs to drink this.”

  Alana’s eyes flew open. A barrage of faces surrounded her and nearest was Orrin’s. He was holding another goblet to her lips. Alana turned her head aside, ignoring the way sharp motion made the room reel.

  “Hold her head steady.”

  Alana tried to fight, but the panic was so strong it formed iron bands around her chest. Breathing was impossible, and with the resulting dizziness, the ability to resist left her. Honey-sweet liquid filled her mouth. She swallowed because it was less effort than spitting.

  “And now this.” Orrin spoke again.

  Alana felt the weight of cold metal on her throat, and suddenly the monster of emotions took a half-step back. The space was just sufficient to separate herself from the world. She knew who Alana was. She realized that the terrified whimpers had been hers.

  Orrin patted her hand. “There you go. Have another mouthful and then lie down. Once the potion takes effect you’ll feel better.”

  Some small voice warned her not to obey, but Alana could not concentrate enough to work out why. The chaos in her head had eased, and she would willingly do whatever was necessary to make it calm still further. Alana stretched out again on the bed and concentrated on breathing. Slowly, the sharp definition on the emotions in the room became blurred and the roar from the city outside faded to a buzz. The relief was so great it left Alana light-headed.

  Orrin was still holding her hand. “I’m so sorry, my dear.”

  “Na-yer-nor.” Alana’s tongue was too sluggish to move.

  “Don’t try to talk.”

  Alana closed her eyes. She might as well follow the advice, since nobody would understand a word she said. Orrin had done this to her. His presence made her feel ill and she wished he would stop holding her hand, but she lacked the strength to pull away. For now, all she could do was to try ignore him and concentrate on getting her head back together. When she felt better, she would be able to tell her side of things.

  “You’re an empath, a very powerful one, stronger in the talent than has ever been recorded before. I have to admit, I’m amazed. If I’d have known, I would never have—” Orrin broke off with a sorrowful sigh.

  “But you have, haven’t you? What’s going to happen to her now?” The anger inside Reyna burned hotter than Alana would have imagined possible for her placid lover.

  “Yes. That is the question. What next for Alana?”

  “The talisman you’ve given her, she can keep it?” Lady Kyra was a complex knot of ambition, anxiety, and hope.

  “Oh yes, of course. In fact, I insist that she does. She must have it with her at all times, but I fear it can do no more than take the edge off what she is experiencing. The potion I have given her will also help, but it is not safe, and should not be taken over a lengthy period of time. I fear this means she will not be able to continue her life in Ellaye.”

  Although his tone was somber, Orrin was filled to the brim with satisfaction. He took a moment to gather himself for his prepared speech and then let go of Alana’s hand and moved away. “As I have said, your daughter is a very powerful empath.”

  “She can read minds?”

  “In a way, although what she senses are basic emotions rather than exact thoughts, and it is the unfiltered nature of her talent that is the problem. I was right about the barriers she had raised around herself, blocking her talent. But what I had not realized was she’d built them for her own protection.”

  “Why? When?”

  “As for why? Imagine what it must be like, to be bombarded by the raw emotions from everyone around you, without respite. I suspect she started shutting everyone else out when she was still a baby. An instinctive response. She probably never knew what she was doing.”

  “You said she had to leave Ellaye. Why? Surely she can rebuild her barriers.”

  “Maybe, given time.” This was not the way Orrin’s hopes were leaning, of that, Alana was certain. “But it won’t happen quickly, and she’ll need the right environment.”

  “What sort of environment?”

  “Peace and as few people around as possible. That’s why she has to get away from Ellaye.” This was what Orrin was so happy about. “The farther she can be from towns, the better it will be for her.”

  “You want her to go live in the wastelands?” Fear shot through Reyna’s outrage.

  “Oh no. It needn’t be than extreme. A small hamlet, on the edges of Galvonia, but still under the protection of the King’s Marshals. I am sure somewhere suitable can be found.”

  “Would somewhere like that be able to support a proper household for her?”

  “Alana won’t be able to have a household.”

  “She’ll need bodyguards and servants.”

  “Anyone who can project emotions will put a strain on her, and even the dullest of commoners can do that. Maybe she could have one companion, but anything more she would not be able to bear.”

  “But she can’t go on her own. Her life will be in danger. We all know how the commoners view us.”

  “Does it matter? Sounds like there won’t be enough people around to form a lynch mob.” Her mother was bitterly cynical.

  Orrin’s voice was a plea for calm. “The local inhabitants need not know of her heritage. She can pass among them as one of their own. She need not be at risk.”

  The irony was not lost on Alana. Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.

  For the first time, Alana’s father spoke. “Commoners! You expect my daughter to go and live among the commoners, in some impoverished farming village, without a single servant or any of the trappings she’s used to? You’re suggesting she can live in squalor, like a peasant?”

  “I’m afraid there’s no other option. If she stays here, she’ll be driven mad.”

  “The life of a peasant is not fitting for my daughter.”

  “It needn’t be forever. With just a few people around, Alana might be able to regain control of her talent. If she could learn to manipulate the new barriers, so she can be selective in whose emotions she taps, why…” Orrin paused dramatically, as if a new idea had just struck him. “Can you see how valuable she could be to the king? She would be able to return to the court as one of his most senior advisers. It would be a great day, for Galvonia and the Quintanilla family.”

  Alana did not need to feel the sudden spark of excitement to know, with that one sentence, the argument was won. Her parents’ ambition was so easy to ignite. Fighting it was not worth the effort. She closed her eyes and let drowsiness reclaim her.

  *

  When Alana next awoke, night had fallen. Moonlight poured through the open window. The city was silent, its inhabitants asleep. The absence of emotional clamor was enough for Alana to think clearly, or as clearly as Orrin’s drugs would allow. Alana was sure that she had been given more of whatever the second potion had been. Her body was numb and would not obey her. When she tried to move, her head fell to one side. She saw Reyna, slumped in a chair beside her bed.

  “Uhh.” Alana’s throat was too dry for talking, even if she could control her tongue.

  Reyna shook herself and sat up. “How are you, darling?”

  “Wa’er.” Alana pointed weakly at the jug on the dresser.

  Reyna poured a glass and then helped Alana into a sitting position. The cold liquid was a blessed relief, although much of the water spilled from her slack lips and trickled down her chin. What was Orrin dosing her with?

  “Thangs. What waz…” Wheezing stopped Alana from saying more.

  “Don’t try to
speak. Orrin has got you pretty heavily drugged.”

  This much Alana already knew.

  “It’s to help you.”

  Considerate of him.

  “You don’t need to worry. It’s all been sorted out. I’m taking you away from Ellaye tomorrow. I know where we’re going, far to the north, a small valley. I’m going to stay there with you until you’ve worked out how to control your talent.”

  With the city hushed, picking out a single thread of emotion was easier. Fear and uncertainty were battling inside Reyna, fueled by a warm core of affection. Alana paused in doubt. Or were the fear and affection her own? The drug-induced blurring made it impossible to be certain, although the potion was affecting her body more than her mind.

  “Orrin has said we need to leave as soon as possible.”

  And he wanted his victim unable to speak coherently until she was away from Ellaye. Yet, even if Alana could talk, what could she say? Orrin had promised to remove her mental barriers, and that was what he had done. He claimed he had not known how it would affect her. The only proof that he was lying came from this new wild talent of hers. If she challenged him, it would be the word of a nobody, manifestly suffering from devastating mental problems, against the king’s high counselor. Alana did not rate her chances of winning the argument.

  Plus, he had done what he could to alleviate the symptoms. The silver talisman hung on a cord around her neck. She must have grabbed hold of it subconsciously, in her sleep. Her fingers tightened, clinging to it like a lifeline. She could feel the protective sphere it cast around her. Clearly, it was some demon device from the Age of Chaos.

  So why had Orrin done it, harmed then healed her? Alana suspected she would never get a full answer, but she could guess. Orrin’s goal appeared to be removing her from Ellaye. Since she had been an untalented nonentity before, either it was part of a complex strategy to undermine the Quintanilla family, or Orrin had been worried that some day, she might spontaneously take control of her talent and become a power in her own right.

 

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