Where Shadows Lie

by Kim Stokely

  Devnet sat down on one of the winged-back chairs. “Why didn’t you tell us you were going to help your friend escape? Your father and I could have been of some aid.”

  The door bowed at the weight being forced against it from the other side.

  I spit a ragged piece of thumbnail into the fire. Not very queenly, but I was too nervous to care. “It all came together too quickly. And I didn’t think Geran would approve.”

  My uncle frowned. “Why not?”

  I looked toward Kennis. “Because it meant trusting Quinn.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “Noam found Quinn for me. He’s going to get Josh back.”

  Kennis staggered for a moment as if I’d knocked the wind out of her. “It’ll kill him.”

  I hurried over and led her to the couch. “No. He has the Chrysaline.”

  Maris lifted her head, her eyebrows arched. “You said it was lost.”

  I sensed the rest of them staring at me. I’d lied to them all about it and they wanted an explanation. But then the pounding at the door went silent. We all turned and listened. Someone rapped lightly against the wood.

  “Alystrine, it’s your father.”

  I glanced at the others. “Why didn’t he use a passage to come back?”

  Maris stood, her face pale. “He’s probably too weak.”

  I crossed to the door. It swung open as soon as I’d lifted the latch.

  Faolan pushed Geran aside. His eyes darted around the room. “Where is the boy?”

  I placed my arm under my father’s so he could lean on me. A sheen of sweat stood out above his lip.

  Faolan stormed further into my quarters, followed by a half dozen guards. “Where is he?”

  I led Geran over to a chair. “Who?”

  The bald man whirled around to face me. “What have you done with him?”

  I straightened my shoulders as Geran sat down. “We’re the only ones here, I promise you.”

  “I can sense him near.” Faolan’s eyes narrowed as he focused on my father then at the others in the room. His gaze rested on Devnet. Recognition flooded his features. He let out an unholy growl, strode across the room and lifted my uncle up by the shirt collar. “You have the boy’s clothes.”

  Devnet’s loathing of the former head of the Brethren was evident by the scowl on his face. “These?”

  Faolan shook him. “I placed the casting in them myself.” He thrust Devnet onto the couch. “Where is the boy?”

  “He’s gone,” Geran whispered.

  Faolan turned slowly. “What?”

  “I took him through the passages to one of the gates.” Geran wiped a hand across his brow. “He’s lost in the city by now.”

  Two guards marched through the doorway. “The Lord Regent requests the presence of Faolan, the Lady Alystrine and the traveler, Josh McNeil.”

  Now it was Faolan’s turn to pale. He swallowed hard before crossing to my side. “I haven’t secured the traveler yet. Take the Lady Alystrine to Lord Braedon and I’ll continue to search.”

  The older of the two guards scowled. “Our orders were to bring you to him immediately.” He grabbed Faolan’s elbow then pushed him into the hallway. “You can explain the traveler’s absence to the Lord Regent yourself.”

  I cast a glance back at my family before following the older guard and Faolan out the door.

  The younger guard turned to the other soldiers. “The Lord Regent has ordered that no one come with them.” He fell into step behind me as the guards shut the door to my rooms, imprisoning the others inside.

  I tried to keep myself relaxed as we strode through the torch lit hallways, but my mind came up with a thousand different ways Braedon could torture me or my family before the coronation, trying to get information about Josh’s whereabouts.

  We were led into a well-appointed sitting room. Lord Braedon stood by a fireplace along the far wall. Lord Donagh paced behind the couch where Caradoc slouched, a drink in his hand.

  At a wave from Braedon, the two guards exited, shutting the door. The Lord Regent’s face darkened, even as a log fell and flames shot up, casting the room in a blaze of light, almost like a camera flash. “The boy was to come with you.”

  Faolan bowed. “My Lord, he was not in her room.”

  I waited for Braedon’s anger to erupt. Instead he raised an eyebrow. “Then where is he?”

  The bald man bowed again. “I am sure he remains within the walls. The guards will find him.”

  Braedon lowered his head. “You and the Druids assured me the casting would work.”

  “Yes, My lord. But–”

  The Lord Regent sighed. “But somehow you were fooled.”

  The terror behind Faolan’s eyes almost made me pity the man. Almost.

  “Come closer, my friend. It’s all right.” Braedon gestured with his arm. “Tell me what happened.”

  Faolan took several shaky steps forward.

  Braedon reached out with one hand and jerked the Elder to the fireplace. With the other hand he thrust a knife into Faolan’s belly. “You have failed me for the last time.” He pushed the blade further so that the jeweled hilt pressed against the man’s skin.

  Faolan’s eyes widened with shock. He coughed. Blood gurgled out of his open mouth. Braedon pushed him away with disdain.

  A weak moan escaped my lips as the former Keeper of the Keys flattened himself against the stone fireplace. A crimson stain blossomed on his robe like a rose. He placed his hand over the wound as if he hoped to stem the tide pouring from his body. When he dropped his head to look, he coughed another mouthful of blood onto the hearth. It splattered against the stone like bright red raindrops.

  My knees weakened, but somehow I remained standing.

  Faolan did not.

  He crumpled down to the floor at Braedon’s feet.

  The Lord Regent wiped his blade on a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. He eyed the now ruined cloth with disgust before throwing it into the flames.

  The familiar breeze of a Portal pushed through the room. Geran appeared beside me. He stared at the Mystics with open animosity.

  Donagh and Braedon returned the glare.

  “Lord Regent.” My father said the title with disgust. “You must remember our protocol. An unwed female Elder must always have a chaperone.”

  My eyes stayed riveted on Braedon, not wanting to stray to the corpse at his feet.

  The Lord Regent sheathed his dagger. “Where is the boy?” When I wouldn’t answer he looked to Geran. “Do you know?”

  My father wore a mask of indifference. “He’s gone.”

  Braedon’s anger charged the air in the room with electricity. “How?”

  “It doesn’t matter how.” The hairs on my arms stood on end. I tried to swallow the fear rising from my gut. “He’s out of your hands and back in the Other World.”

  He strode toward me. His hand reached out as if to take hold of my throat but my father stepped in the way.

  “You will not touch her.” His tone held an obvious threat.

  Braedon’s hand dropped. “The Ovates have shielded the castle with even more protections.” He shook his head. “You could not have found a passage outside these walls.”

  “Nevertheless.” I comforted myself by believing that if they hadn’t caught Josh yet, Quinn had already transported him to safety. Now I needed to keep them from finding out Noam’s part in the escape. “Josh is gone and you can’t use him to bribe me anymore.”

  I’d never been the recipient of so much loathing. It spewed from Braedon’s eyes like venom from a snake. Lord Donagh placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, drawing him away. The contempt on his own face softened as he whispered something into Braedon’s ear.

  The Lord Regent’s mouth broke out in the same half smile I’d grown to dread. I knew some alternate plan of misery had just been hatched between the two of them.

  Geran must have sensed it too because he stepped to my side. “My daughter must prepare f
or her time of Seclusion.”

  Braedon gave us a short bow. “Know this . . . .” He paused. When he spoke again his voice made me cringe as if he’d dropped an ice cube down my back. “I will find the boy and he will suffer. As will anyone who aided you. You have made the mistake of opening your heart to others, Lady Alystrine.”

  It was my father who answered him. “To love is never a mistake.” He took my hand. “Come, Daughter. The time for your Seclusion is almost upon you.” He didn’t bow toward the Lord Regent, as was custom. Instead he led me from the room. When we turned the corner, out of sight of Braedon’s guards, my father tottered and leaned against the wall.

  “Are you okay?” I slipped my arm under his shoulder to keep him upright.

  He nodded weakly.

  “Lean on me.” I pulled him from the wall. Although a bit taller than me and solid, his weight didn’t crush me. We shuffled down the hall together.

  He let out a soft moan. “I have still not recovered my full strength.” We took the stairs up to my rooms one at a time. “The added bans of the Ovates made using the passages that much harder.”

  I stopped half-way up so he could rest. “What added bans?”

  Geran took a weary breath. “Did you not feel the resistance?”

  “I only felt the pull of the passages.”

  He studied my face as if looking for an explanation other than my words. His lips didn’t smile, but his eyes seemed to light with a spark of happiness. “You are stronger than I ever hoped you’d be.” The ember faded. “Pray it will be enough.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The Seclusion

  The Council of Elders came for me before dawn the following morning. Nitza was noticeably absent. I wanted to ask if she or Noam had been heard from, but the solemn expression on Geran’s face kept me quiet. Whatever happened last night, now was not the time to discuss it. Maris and the other six females of the group led me to my bedroom.

  “Take off your nightgown,” an older woman ordered, her gray hair knotted in a tight bun on top of her head.

  I slipped it off then tossed it onto my bed. I’d hoped they’d give me something else to wear, but for the moment they left me naked. I’d gotten used to Rhoswen dressing me, but felt vulnerable in this room full of strangers. The maid hadn’t come to add wood to the fire by my bed. I forced myself not to shiver in the chilly morning air.

  My grandmother lifted my right arm. “We have to remove the bandages. Only fabric woven by an Elder can touch your skin.”

  I watched her untie the knots. “Why?”

  “To be sure no bindings or magic have been placed within the weave.”

  “But these are from Kennis.”

  Maris unwound the strips of cloth. “Still, we must remove them.”

  Another Elder stripped the bandage off my left arm. A hushed gasp circulated through the room as the scars from Mahon’s claws were revealed. The angry red welts furrowed the skin from my shoulders to my elbows.

  My grandmother ran a finger down the stitches. “We should remove these as well, but I think it’s too early. We’ll have to hope they’re clean. Lift your arms.” She took off the strips of cloth still binding the wound across my stomach. Another hiss of breath echoed in the room as the other women caught sight of the thin, ragged scar. Bruises from the attack still mottled my chest and legs. I’d been pretty successful at pushing the horrors of the Fey away until something, like the Black Guard’s mount in the stable, brought it to the forefront of my mind. The pale faces of the women in the room threatened to undo me. Some held their mouths in tight, hard lines. A few brought their hands to their faces, as if to shield their eyes from the sight or keep their voices from crying out.

  I swallowed hard. My skin burned from the awkwardness of standing naked before this room of women, but I knew to cover myself, or the scars, would weaken me in their eyes. Instead, I stood tall and lifted my chin. I wanted them to know, no matter what Braedon had tried to do to break me, it had only made me stronger.

  Maris glanced over her shoulder. “Dina, please bring the gown.”

  A younger woman stepped forward with a pale blue garment draped in her arms. She unfolded it. I could see no seams where it had been sewn together. It appeared to be woven in one piece.

  I slipped it over my head. The fabric wasn’t as soft as the clothes I’d been given in Ginessa’s Glade, but it was still softer than any I had worn since. The gown fell an inch or so past my feet, but had only a slight cap sleeve. I gave my grandmother a questioning look.

  “This is all you’ll wear for the Seclusion.” Her eyes smiled at me even if her lips didn’t. “The theory, so I’ve been told, is for you to be uncomfortable, to keep you from falling asleep when you should be praying.”

  “So they want me to freeze to death?” Goose pimples had already popped out along my skin while I’d been standing naked. The thin gown did nothing to warm me.

  A woman with pale green eyes stepped up to me next. Tiny wrinkles lined her eyes and mouth, but her dark brown hair showed no gray. “Your Majesty, please allow me to take down your hair.”

  I turned and the woman undid the braid Rhoswen had so carefully plaited last night. Someone gave the woman a comb and she pulled it through my hair until every snarl had been untangled.

  “Come,” called a voice from the doorway. “It is time.”

  The women escorted me out into the sitting room. The same murmurs of shock traveled through the men when they saw wounds on my arms. The men, however, didn’t try and hide their emotions. Anger resonated among them. My father’s eyes hardened. I remembered he’d only been told what Mahon had done, he hadn’t seen the scars himself. He walked toward me, without his usual confidence. He held out his hand and I placed mine in it. With his fingers he traced the jagged crimson lines down my arm.

  His eyes searched mine. “This . . . this happened in the Fey?”

  I nodded.

  His grip tightened. “I’m sorry.”

  Obed touched my father’s shoulder. “It is time for the Lady Alystrine’s Seclusion to begin.” He looked to me. “Do you understand this ceremony?”

  “I think so.” My grandmother had tried explaining it to me a couple night’s ago. “I’ll spend the next twenty-four hours in the sanctuary tent. Without food . . . praying . . . hoping for some kind of word or sign from Ruahk, to help me when I’m crowned.”

  The older man smiled. “Very good. One of us will be with you at all times to pray with you and lift up your reign to our God.”

  Make sure I don’t fall asleep is more like it. The women lined up in pairs in front of the door except for Maris. Nitza had probably been her partner. Oded led me into the line and then the men paired up behind me. We walked through the halls without speaking, the Elders’ sandals brushing like sandpaper on the stone floors. I had to lift the hem of my gown off the floor so I wouldn’t trip. My own bare feet made no noise. Commoners came out from the dining hall and their rooms to watch our procession. Most nodded or bowed as I passed. Lords Braedon and Donagh stood on either side of the main door. I refused to look at them, instead I focused on the hair of the Elder woman in front of me.

  I followed the women out into the courtyard. A soft snow fell from a white sky. My lungs froze at the first breath of frigid air. I had to force myself to take another. I knew I wasn’t supposed to talk but I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering. We turned right and walked to the side of the palace. Sharp pain shot through my toes as they grew colder. I stumbled for a moment when I caught sight of the number of Elders gathered around a massive tent. Several hundred stood and watched the procession. Torches set on pikes surrounded the brown structure, causing the golden threads woven in the fabric to sparkle, even in the midst of the snow.

  I searched the faces in the crowd for Quinn or Noam, but didn’t see them. My first prayers would be for their safety. I had no other way to help them.

  The women in front of me stopped. Each pair split and stood on opposite side
s of the entry into the tent, forming a kind of aisle for me to walk down.

  I entered the tent alone. It was about fifteen feet wide by sixty feet long. At the far end sat a gold altar. Every five feet stood another torch. The golden threads gleamed and danced even brighter in the torches’ reflection with nothing to diffuse their light. I paused and took in the beauty and peace of my surroundings.

  Oded came up behind me. “You must kneel or prostrate yourself before the altar.”

  I swallowed and made my way to the back of the tent and knelt. If I sat back on my legs, the altar stood about two feet above my head. I didn’t look, but I figured from the shuffling noises I heard that Oded had taken his position behind me. I sighed, folded my hands in my lap and started praying for Josh and Quinn’s safety. Please, I’m not sure of the right way to do this, but please help them. If they haven’t already gotten to the Other World, please help them get there safely.

  I prayed that Josh would live a happy life. I prayed he would forget about me.

  Please, wherever Noam is, protect him. I failed him. I didn’t know about the Castings. I didn’t know the Mystics could see me in the passages. I didn’t know . . . .

  My thoughts drifted. What else didn’t I know? I didn’t know what had happened to Noam. No one knew if he hid somewhere in the castle of if he’d found a way out before the Lord Regent ordered the Black Guards to watch the exits. I didn’t know how Quinn could be so sure I wouldn’t have to marry Braedon. I didn’t know how to turn off my emotions so Braedon couldn’t use them to hurt the people I cared for. I didn’t know how to be a queen.

  My stomach made a low rumble that seemed to echo throughout the tent. I blinked to try and get my bearings, wondering how long I had knelt there, although by the stiffness in my ankles, it had been a while. I shifted my legs in front of me to stretch them, then sat cross-legged with my hands resting on top of my knees, palms facing upward.

  I repeated my prayers for Quinn, Josh and Noam, adding Nitza to the mix, hoping she made it back to the Elder Lands before her part in Josh’s escape had been discovered.