‘Naeve …’ she began slowly. ‘If I wanted ta leave Darkhaven, me and the baby, where could we go?’
‘You mean, run away from the Nightshade family altogether?’ Sorrow frowned. ‘They’d send the Helm after you, so I guess you’d have to leave Arkannen. Probably even Mirrorvale, to be safe.’
‘Leave Mirrorvale?’ Elisse had never even considered such a thing. Sorrow gave her a sardonic look.
‘There are other countries, you know.’
‘I know.’ Which was true: she was well aware that Mirrorvale was surrounded on three sides by other countries. Yet they were only names to her, places on a map. They were less real than the legends she had grown up with as a child, which at least had the advantage of being rooted in something familiar. ‘Which – which one’s the nicest?’
‘Depends what you want,’ Sorrow said, her lips quirking as though she found the question amusing. ‘But like I told you before … your son has royal blood. Changer blood. It will manifest itself in him one day, and when that happens I think you’re going to need someone around who understands what it means.’
‘I s’pose so.’ Elisse scrutinised the baby’s sleeping face once more, trying to imagine him as a man who looked like Florentyn or Myrren. A man who could turn himself at will into something strange and powerful. If Corus possessed the true Changer gift, he would have a claim to the throne of Darkhaven. Was that what she wanted for him? Would that be what he wanted for himself, when he was old enough to choose?
The silence was broken by a knock on the door, and Elisse straightened up as Myrren and Serenna walked into the room. She felt almost guilty, as though she had been thinking treasonous thoughts. But Corus was her son. She had a responsibility to do what was best for him, not what was best for anyone else.
‘Elisse,’ the current overlord of Darkhaven said. ‘You are well?’
She shrugged. ‘I’m all right.’
He crossed to her bedside and stood looking down at the child in her arms. ‘And this must be my new brother.’
‘His name’s Corus.’ The words came out defiant, but Myrren only nodded.
‘A good name.’ To Elisse’s relief he made no move to take the baby from her, just stepped away again. ‘Now, perhaps you or Sorrow could tell us what happened last night.’
‘Tha’ bloody Changer creature came through the window and attacked me, that’s what.’ Elisse indicated her burnt cheek, then pulled back her gown to reveal the start of the long scratches on her shoulder. The physician had put a few stitches into the two deepest, and they still stung like crazy, even with the ointment he’d given her. ‘If it hadn’ been for Sorrow then I prob’ly would o’ been killed.’
‘And what exactly did Sorrow do?’ Myrren asked. Elisse glanced at Sorrow, not sure whether she was meant to mention the pistol – Sorrow had said she’d stolen it from Myrren, after all. But Sorrow just smirked and leaned back in her chair, crossing one ankle over the other knee.
‘I shot it.’
Myrren frowned. ‘You claim you actually hit the creature? Wounded it? No weapon can harm a Changer in creature form.’
‘I hate to disillusion you, my lord, but it looks as though a pistol can.’ Sorrow raised a mocking eyebrow. ‘Like I told you earlier, the pistol I was using throws left. So my bullet only grazed the thing. Certainly not fatal – probably only left a nasty bruise – but it was enough to scare it off.’
During this conversation the priestess, Serenna, had been waiting quietly in the background. Now she stepped forward to stand beside Myrren, pushing her veil back from her face. ‘Where did you say you hit the creature?’
Elisse stared at her: there was a disconcerting shadow of alarm in her grey eyes, and her skin beneath the freckles was pale. Sorrow seemed not to notice, answering with the same studied nonchalance she had used to answer Myrren.
‘Right shoulder, I suppose you’d call it.’
‘I see.’ Serenna gazed blindly at Sorrow for a frozen instant, her face wiped clean of all emotion. Then she reached up with hands that trembled slightly and brought the veil back down into place. Only by listening very hard could Elisse decipher the words she murmured to Myrren.
‘I’m sorry, my lord. I – I am not feeling well, all of a sudden. Please excuse me.’
Myrren turned to her with a frown of concern. ‘Of course. Do you need me to fetch the physician again?’
‘No, thank you.’ Serenna had already started for the door; she didn’t look back. ‘I just need some fresh air. I’ll return before too long.’
Without waiting for a reply, she left the room. Myrren watched her go, confusion and anxiety warring in his face. After a moment he turned back and forced a smile.
‘So you shot the creature and it fled …’
‘Yep.’ Sorrow grimaced. ‘And that’s when Elisse decided she was going to give birth.’ Both feet came down on the floor as she leaned forward to fix him with an ironic stare across the bed. ‘Maybe little Corus recognised his sister and came out to meet her.’
Elisse winced at the deliberate provocation, but Myrren just shook his head.
‘Since Elisse only came to Darkhaven yesterday, Ayla couldn’t possibly have known where to find her. If anything, this attack supports her innocence.’ Then he leaned forward too, that hint of steel entering his voice that always reminded Elisse of his father. ‘And if you think, Naeve Sorrow, that because you have performed my family a service, you can say whatever you like to me without fear of reprisal, you can think again. I’ve already allowed you far more of a free rein than Lord Florentyn would have, but there’s still the matter of your treasonous attack in the fourth ring to consider.’
I’ve defeated you once, his fierce eyes said. Don’t think I won’t do it a second time.
There was silence, before Sorrow nodded. ‘You’re right, my lord. I’m sorry.’ She actually managed to sound respectful. ‘But on the matter of Lady Ayla … I have to tell you that she and Caraway saw you leave the fourth ring with Elisse yesterday. I didn’t tell Caraway who Elisse is or what she’s doing in Arkannen, but no doubt he has his suspicions. So if Lady Ayla really is the attacker, she might have come to Darkhaven looking for Elisse after all.’
That was a blow to Myrren, Elisse could see. No matter how he tried to prove his sister’s innocence, the evidence kept stacking up against her. Still, he managed to hide it well, the only sign of his inner perturbation the clipped tone of his voice.
‘Then you’ve seen Ayla? With someone else, this … Caraway?’ He frowned. ‘Surely not Tomas Caraway? The one my father had thrown out of the Helm when Kati died?’
‘That’s right,’ Sorrow said, carefully neutral. ‘Far as I can tell, he was asking questions on her behalf.’
‘Tomas Caraway,’ Myrren repeated. He looked totally bemused, as though the roses he’d planted had come up turnips. ‘Why on earth would Ayla have been with him, of all people? She always thought the Helm had let her mother die on purpose. She’d never forgive the one man who was most clearly to blame.’
Sorrow shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me. But they were definitely together. Caraway had followed me to the fourth ring the previous day, and then yesterday he came back with Ayla.’
‘Right.’ Myrren considered the information for a moment, then seemed to dismiss it as inexplicable. ‘Well, whatever the reason, she was still in the city yesterday. Both your evidence and my own sources confirm that – no matter what Captain Travers may claim.’ His lips tightened. ‘Which brings us back to the matter at hand, Sorrow. What exactly did Travers hire you to do?’
‘He told me I should do whatever it took to protect Elisse, without being afraid that the Helm would come after me for it,’ Sorrow said. ‘He didn’t precisely say it in so many words, but it was understood that you and Ayla were the greatest threats to her – that if you found out about her, you’d want her dead. And I was to stop that happening, by any means necessary short of killing you.’
‘It’s good to know that Trav
ers drew the line at regicide,’ Myrren murmured. ‘His devotion to what he believes to be my father’s wishes has already carried him far beyond the bounds of what is acceptable.’
Sorrow nodded. ‘Of course, both Travers and I were working under the impression that it was Ayla we had to watch out for. Or rather, I should say, the creature that killed Florentyn Nightshade. That’s why he hired me instead of anyone else. I have a reputation for being able to handle … unusual situations.’
‘As you demonstrated last night,’ Myrren agreed. He had been leaning against one of the columns of the four-poster bed, but now he straightened up and began pacing the floor. Corus made a small sighing noise in his sleep; Elisse rocked him gently, and watched Sorrow watch Myrren. The blonde woman was lounging in her chair, trying to look casual, but her hazel eyes held a surprising amount of apprehension.
‘So where does this leave me, my lord?’ she asked finally. ‘Do I have to make a run for it before you introduce me to the inside of your prison cells?’
‘I should bloody hope not!’ Elisse put in with some indignation, before Myrren could answer. ‘If ya hadn’ been here ta help me –’
Her arms had tightened involuntarily around her son; now his eyes fluttered open, his mouth turning down at the corners, and immediately everything else was forgotten. Elisse hummed a snatch of an old lullaby to him under her breath, trying to convey a silent apology for waking him. It was no use: his whimper became a wail. Gritting her teeth, Elisse pulled her gown aside and put him to her breast. She wasn’t going to let Myrren Nightshade embarrass her into not looking after her own child.
‘Well, my lord?’ she demanded over the soft sound of the baby sucking. ‘Are ya going ta punish her for something that wasn’ even her fault?’
‘No, Elisse, I’m not.’ To his credit, Myrren didn’t seem at all perturbed by her actions; a rueful smile hovered on his lips as he looked from her to Sorrow. ‘Since you didn’t give me anything more than a few bruises, Sorrow, and since Elisse and Corus would have been lost without you last night, I’ll overlook your actions in the fourth ring as well as the fact that you’re very definitely not meant to be in Darkhaven right now. Just try not to accept any more treasonous commissions in future.’ He reached into his coat pocket and drew out a pistol. ‘Now, I believe you wanted this back?’
Sorrow’s eyebrows had been climbing higher and higher with every word, until the expression of surprise on her face was almost comical. At the sight of the pistol, she seemed to recollect herself, sitting up straight and giving a quick nod.
‘You can have it,’ Myrren said. ‘But I want the other one in return. I assume you took it from the armoury? And I want you to show me how to load it.’
‘It’s a deal.’ Sorrow jumped to her feet, eyes bright with enthusiasm. ‘If you just come over to the table by the window …’
She certainly did love her pistol, Elisse thought as the blonde woman started her explanation. For her part, she couldn’t see how anyone could get overly excited about a weapon. It was just a tool, like a spade was a tool.
As though drawn by an invisible cord, she looked down at Corus again. He had finished with her breast by now and was drifting back off to sleep. Elisse hummed another melody to him, wondering if it was normal for a newborn baby to sleep so much. Maybe Sorrow was right – maybe it was stupid of her to want to leave Darkhaven. She had no idea what was healthy in an ordinary baby, let alone what was healthy in a Nightshade baby: calves and foals were the limit of her experience. At least the physician here had some experience at raising Changer children.
Corus may not even be a Changer, she told herself. He may jus’ be an ordinary boy. And if that’s the case, I don’ want him feeling bad about it. He’d be better off growing up like every other child, and if he does have the gift – well, we’ll deal with that when we come to it.
She watched Myrren as he listened intently to Sorrow, wondering if she dared to broach the subject with him again. But she already knew what his answer would be. As far as he was concerned, every Nightshade child belonged in one place. It was as Florentyn had said, when he first moved her to Arkannen: every child of Darkhaven should be under the eye of the Helm. But what was the point, if a mad Changer creature could come through the window at will and attack anyone it chose? It didn’t seem as though the Helm would be much use in that situation. No, the only person who could protect her and Corus properly was Naeve Sorrow, and she wouldn’t be here for long – unless, Elisse thought with the sudden excitement of inspiration, Myrren could be persuaded to hire the woman as a special guard. After all, she’d already proved herself. And if Myrren asked her, maybe she’d agree to stay …
‘That’s the lot,’ Sorrow said, turning away from the window and interrupting Elisse’s plans. ‘You now have a loaded pistol in your hands. When you want to fire it, just cock it and pull the trigger.’
‘Thank you.’ Myrren slipped the pistol into his pocket, that fierce look in his eyes again. ‘I think it’s time for me to pay Captain Travers another visit.’
Right. It was now or never. Elisse took a deep breath, ready to suggest her new idea – but Sorrow got in first.
‘Lord Myrren?’ The blonde woman’s voice was coloured with some unfamiliar emotion; it took Elisse a moment to identify it as guilt. ‘Before you go, there’s one more thing you need to be aware of regarding my dealings with Owen Travers.’
Myrren frowned. ‘Which is?’
Sorrow looked briefly down at the floor, as if searching for an answer in the grain of the wood, then raised her head to meet his gaze. ‘He knows where Ayla is.’
THIRTY
As soon as the Gate of Steel came in sight, Caraway spurred his stolen horse on to greater effort. The animal’s flanks were heaving, its breath coming in gasps, but if it could just carry him through the fifth ring –
‘Come on, girl,’ he murmured, leaning low on the horse’s neck. ‘Almost there. Please don’t give up now.’
Ahead, the two watchmen on the gate had heard his approach; they stepped out into his path, drawing their swords and ordering him to stop. Gritting his teeth, Caraway kept urging the horse forward. He didn’t have time to talk. Either they could get out of his way, or they could be trampled underfoot.
Wisely they chose the former, falling to either side as he pounded past them. Then he was passing under the archway, so close to the row of steel blades that one of them skimmed his hair. Familiar buildings loomed at the edges of his vision, practice floors and weaponries and barracks, but he kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, straining to catch his first glimpse of the Gate of Ice and the sixth ring. Behind him he could hear shouts and running footsteps as the two guards called for assistance.
Then, suddenly, there were people ahead of him, men and women of the fifth ring who must have heard the disturbance and come to investigate. Most of them were carrying weapons. Faced with their raised voices and their glinting steel, the horse skidded to a sudden stop, nearly throwing Caraway over its head. He tried to encourage it into speed again, cajoling and threatening alternately, but the horse was tired and nervous. Its ears were flat against its skull as it danced from side to side, snorting in alarm. Then, as one of the men stepped forward and lifted his sword in an attempt to drive Caraway back the way he had come, the horse reared.
Caraway felt his last chance of keeping his seat slip away as the horse bucked under him, and so he was ready for the fall, turning it into a roll and coming up in a crouch. Quickly he pivoted on the spot, assessing the situation. Already several people were working to calm and control the panicked horse; the rest of them, fierce-eyed and armed, had gathered in a tightening circle around him.
Caraway looked from one to the next, seeing men he recognised from the Helm, other men and women he had trained with when he was a new recruit, and still more he didn’t know at all. Old faces and new, but they all had one thing in common: an expression that brimmed with contempt for him, Tomas Caraway. He was the thing they most de
spised, one of their own who had failed; they would sooner show mercy to a torturer or a rapist than they would to him. Caraway took a deep breath, his guts twisting with the sick knowledge. What had made him think he could possibly save Ayla from what awaited her? Of all the protectors she could have had, he was by far the worst. There was no way he could get anywhere near Darkhaven now, and Travers knew it.
All the same, he had to try.
‘Please,’ he said, spreading his hands to show his lack of weapons. ‘You have to let me through. Lady Ayla –’
‘You have no reason to be here, Breakblade.’ It was one of the Helmsmen in the group who replied, a wiry man with a thick moustache. Caraway turned in his direction, addressing him directly.
‘But you don’t understand! Ayla is in danger –’
The man snorted. ‘From what I hear, she’s more dangerous than endangered. And even if that wasn’t so, protecting the royal family is the job of the Helm.’ He smirked. ‘Which means it certainly isn’t your concern.’
‘It is if you’re not doing your bloody job properly!’ Caraway snapped. The Helmsman scowled, an angry flush darkening his face.
‘And what the fuck would you know about doing a job properly? You don’t have the first idea of what that means.’ Spurred on by a murmur of agreement from the people around him, he kept going. ‘You’re a disgrace to the fifth ring, Breakblade. You gave us all a bad name when you stood back and watched Kati Nightshade die. So don’t you dare talk to me about doing my job properly.’
‘You’re right,’ Caraway said. ‘I failed her. I failed you. I failed everyone in this damn city. But now I’m trying to make up for it.’ He clenched his fists, willing them to listen to him. ‘If I don’t get up to Darkhaven, Kati’s daughter will be convicted by the Helm for something she didn’t do. And then there’ll be two people’s blood on my head.’
‘Several things wrong with that story,’ another man said. This one wasn’t wearing the uniform of a Helmsman: a bodyguard, perhaps, or a common soldier. ‘One, none of us have seen Ayla Nightshade since she left Darkhaven several nights ago. Word is, she may have left the city altogether. Two, the whole purpose of the Helm is to protect the Nightshade line. They wouldn’t convict anyone of that blood without good reason.’ He paused. ‘And three, even if what you just said is true, what makes you think you can do anything about it? What are you going to do, fight your way through the entire Helm with that fine example of a weapon you see fit to carry everywhere?’
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