Nightshade

by Shea Godfrey

  “Joaquin will try to find me if I’m not there.”

  “Then you must go.”

  “I will not,” Jessa answered simply.

  “It will be only an hour, Jessa. I’ll be with her. I would not see you in trouble, nor have someone knocking at my door searching for you and finding my sister as well.”

  Jessa’s eyes darkened and she looked to the bed without answering.

  “She sleeps more peacefully,” Emmalyn said gently.

  “It is the sinjinn root. It relaxes the muscles,” Jessa said. “The arbuckle is for the fever, though it has yet to take hold.”

  “And when it does?”

  “She’ll begin to sweat and the fever will free itself. It can be a dangerous time and we must give her much water, even if we must force her.”

  Emmalyn nodded. “I must go and speak to my mother now.”

  “I’ll not leave until you return.”

  “I know.”

  Jessa watched as Emmalyn left the room. The heavy bolt slid with a turn of the key and fell into place, locking her in as she turned away.

  Darry opened her eyes and Jessa’s heart thudded violently. “Darry?”

  Jessa saw a strange hunger in Darry’s eye, and a flutter of excitement moved through her in reaction. She let her hand glide about Darry’s jaw and trail along her neck. “All is well, Akasha,” she said. “I’ll not be gone for long, I promise.”

  Darry fought against the stones that dragged her down, but they were very heavy. She tried to speak, tried to tell Jessa something, but though it was very important Darry had no idea what it was.

  Jessa smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

  Darry closed her eyes to quieten the hum in her bones, smelling the fresh summer grass beneath her feet and the wind against her face. She could smell the stag and it crushed through her veins.

  Jessa’s shoulders jerked as the Vhaelin bit within her blood. Her head swam with a sudden rush of dizziness and the bed tipped beneath her.

  “Shivahsa!” Jessa cried, and pushed back in a clumsy move. Her legs tried to find balance but could not. Jessa fell against the seat of a chair as it skidded away and she hit the floor. Her left hand caught in the blankets and kept her upright.

  The scent washed over her and she gasped, her blood rising against the presence of another majik and her own power breaking loose. The rush of enchantment snaked heavily along her throat and blossomed within her chest as her ears popped.

  Jessa felt the stag running, its powerful legs surging as she stared into a wild and vivid landscape. Her left leg kicked out in reflex and her stomach lurched as the stag leapt high and soared.

  “Antua zaneesh!” she exclaimed, breathless as the power of the Vhaelin beat a fierce rhythm through her heart. “Darry.”

  *

  Darry dropped her legs over the side of the bed and looked about. She recognized the pitcher and basin on the table as her grandmother Lewellyn’s, and the tapestry that hung beside the balcony doors. Emmalyn.

  The sun was high at midday and the sky beyond the arch was a brilliant blue. She looked down at the tunic she wore and set a weak hand on its hem as it lay against her bare thighs.

  Emmalyn was on the divan, the couch pulled away from the cold hearth and facing the bed. She was sleeping on its cushions with her face turned to a pillow. Darry pushed up from the mattress, found the floor with her bare feet, and took a step. Her head spun and she waited for it to stop.

  She spied clothes on the bed stand and walked carefully, moving as slowly as she thought was necessary. She rested against the stones and stepped into her breeches first and then her trousers. She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling after pulling them up. She could not remember ever being so exhausted.

  “Let me do that.”

  Darry brought her head forward too quickly and closed her eyes. “Gods…don’t do that, Em.”

  Emmalyn’s emotions were thick within her chest and she tightened her brow as she walked across the room. Darry’s hands fell away as Emmalyn fastened her breeches with a light touch.

  “You seem very practiced at this,” Darry said dryly.

  Emmalyn smiled.

  “How long have I—”

  Emmalyn pulled Darry from the wall, wrapping her arms about her shoulders and holding tight as Darry returned the embrace. When Emmalyn loosened her hold Darry rested her forehead against her neck. “I’m all right,” she whispered.

  Emmalyn brought Darry’s face up and searched her eyes, seeing only the clear light of Darry’s unique gaze.

  “How long, Em?”

  “Three days,” Emmalyn said. “No one knows, Darry. I took care of that.”

  Darry’s head dropped onto Emmalyn’s shoulder. “Thank you, Em.”

  “We need to talk,” Emmalyn said.

  “I’m sorry,” Darry said. “Do you…did Bentley…”

  Emmalyn waited but Darry did not finish. “I know where you were. All is well, Darry. Bentley brought you to me and asked that we care for you in secret. I don’t know why…but it doesn’t really matter for now, my sweet. Do you understand?”

  Darry’s shoulders pulled in and Emmalyn closed her eyes to blur the soft sound that followed, holding her once more as Darry tried to quell her emotions. It was a surprising and tender moment for Emmalyn. While Darry shared her joy quite easily, rarely if ever did she share her pain.

  “Whatever happened, Darry,” Emmalyn whispered, “you don’t have to hide it from me. I will never judge you…or your love.”

  “My love?” Darry asked, and her voice was tired.

  “Yes, well, I’ve been thinking,” Emmalyn said quietly. “About a lot of things, actually. I wasn’t sure if you would go up in flames upon my favorite set of sheets. The prospect made me thoughtful, all right?”

  Darry smiled.

  “About your passion, Darry, wherever you might find it, or with whom,” Emmalyn whispered. “I realized that I’ve never said the words to you.”

  “What words, Em?”

  “That I know you’re not ashamed of who you are, or what you feel. And you shouldn’t be, not ever. You don’t have to hide that part of your life from me. It’s only passion, and it’s a wonderful thing, yes? And you’re made for that.” She smiled. “And I would see you have it.”

  “Should I be open?” Darry asked. “And push Malcolm’s hatred into the light? Should I provoke our father and put him in a position that some might choose to ridicule and take advantage of?”

  Emmalyn digested the words. They were not new thoughts, and over the past few days she had seen things from a very different perspective, one that she had either ignored before or not even considered.

  She had seen the world through Darry’s eyes, and it had caused her a great deal of pain. And shame. She had let the heart of her love for Darry become a stranger. She had been taking only the good and wonderful things, and leaving Darry to defend herself within the darker and more complicated aspects of her life. She had not been seeing her sister as the woman she truly was. A woman with desires and passions and needs like my own. Dreams like my own. Wanting love, wanting to be touched, needing release. “No, my darling. I don’t know what we should do about those things. But you mustn’t hide from me, do you understand?”

  “I don’t.”

  “No, I know. But Bentley is not your only friend, yes?”

  “All right, Em.”

  “Good.”

  “Was Jessa here?”

  Emmalyn heard the discomfort in her voice. “Yes. She said the fever was a passing thing but very dangerous.” Emmalyn left out that she thought Jessa had lied for some reason she had yet to fathom. Nor had she forgotten Bentley’s words, that Darry had been ill other times that no one knew about.

  Emmalyn understood that Darry was frightened at having been exposed, though why, Emmalyn still did not understand. If she pushed Darry now for an answer, Darry would retreat within for Gamar only knew how long. Just as she
had done since she was a child. It was never a smart move to corner Darry.

  “I’m sorry I was sick,” Darry said, looking down.

  “Don’t apologize, Darry.” Emmalyn was content for the moment to ease Darry’s worry with Jessa’s lie. “But if it hadn’t been for Jessa’s help, we would’ve called the healer. She said it could’ve been something you ate.”

  Darry was still for a time and then her dimple appeared, her eyes filling with a dark humor.

  “Don’t say it!” Emmalyn laughed and pulled Darry into her arms once more, kissing her cheek. “Bloody hell, I know that look. Whatever it is, don’t say it, you cad.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Darry sat on the balustrade rail and leaned against one of the blackwood posts, wearing a blue homespun shirt and soft gray trousers above her black boots. She had bathed and her clean hair was still a bit damp as it curled down her back.

  She had seen Bentley. He had lifted her from the ground in a hug that probably bruised a rib, but it had felt good regardless. She remembered his smell and his touch while she had been ill, and she felt rich that he was her friend. She told him as much, and he had kissed her cheek and smiled down at her.

  He said that Longshanks had given her several days of leave and she should take advantage of what was left. Longshanks had no desire to know what the problem had been; he had merely wanted to complain about his people being spoiled and fat, and not the least bit concerned that if the entire Lyonese army were to pour across the border they might actually have to put down their wine and do something about it.

  Darry waited now for Jessa to return from dinner, unsure of what she would say. She had no idea what she might have said or done when the fever was full upon her. She remembered seeing Jessa’s face and looking into her eyes as the scent of her flesh washed over her, and she remembered hearing Jessa’s voice and trusting what it said. She remembered how beautiful Jessa was, then hoped she had said nothing to offend her. She couldn’t remember anything else no matter how hard she tried.

  Darry stared at her boots and sighed, troubled by a great many things, not the least of which was that her feelings for Jessa had changed.

  “Darry.”

  She looked up in surprise but found nothing behind her.

  Jessa jumped forward with a curse. Her right hand fisted in Darry’s tunic and gripped her fearsomely, pulling Darry back. Darry grabbed the post and held on, righting herself.

  “I want you in bed,” Jessa said with authority. When Darry’s brow went up in question, Jessa corrected herself. “I mean that you should be in bed, Darrius.”

  “I was in bed.” Darry smiled. “Now I’m better.”

  “Yes, and almost fell thirty feet to your death.”

  “But you were here to save me…or perhaps cause me to fall. I’ll have to think about that one,” Darry said. “How can you sneak up on me when no one else can?”

  Jessa became aware that she was standing close between Darry’s thighs with her hand still wrapped in her tunic as Darry’s left breast pressed against her arm. She let go and moved back, only to step forward once again and place a hand against Darry’s face.

  “Am I hot?”

  “No.” Jessa gave her a disapproving look.

  “You seem disappointed,” Darry teased. Jessa’s eyes darkened and Darry made a face of contrition. “Sorry.” She let her eyes wander over the golden sari that Jessa wore. Jessa’s curves were extremely pleasing and the sari only enhanced them. Which gods had smiled and decided that one woman should be so perfectly proportioned? Do you understand how beautiful you are, Jessa?

  Jessa dropped her hand, took Darry’s, and pulled her from the railing. “Come inside,” she said, and Darry followed without question.

  “Thank you,” Darry told her quietly. “For helping me.”

  Jessa smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  Darry struggled furiously to remember what language she spoke. You make it hard to find words sometimes, when you look at me so. Stop it, Jessa.

  “You have majik,” Jessa said softly.

  “What?”

  “You have majik, Darry,” Jessa repeated. Darry retreated and Jessa seized her hand before she could move farther. “Did you think I wouldn’t feel it? I am a Vhaelin Witch, Darry. Like powers attract my gods.”

  Darry considered her words. “You lied to Emmalyn.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she didn’t know, so I thought you wouldn’t want her to. I didn’t like doing it, but to do otherwise might’ve betrayed you.”

  Darry had no idea what to say, seeing Jessa’s sudden uncertainty. Jessa had protected her when she had no real reason to. Jessa had kept her secret and done so willingly, as a true friend would, despite not knowing the consequences. Darry tightened her grip and Jessa’s eyes lit up. “Thank you.”

  “You’re most welcome, Darry.”

  “There’s someone you should meet.”

  *

  They walked close, and Jessa saw how Darry moved slower than she had come to expect. When they descended the stairs Jessa held lightly to Darry’s elbow, making sure that if Darry needed the support she would have it. It made Jessa nervous that Darry was out of bed so soon, but she supposed it could not be helped. As a soldier, Darry was not a woman to be held back, not even by illness.

  They strolled along the path beyond the solar and entered the gardens. “My great-great, perhaps one more great grandfather Boris was supposedly a sorcerer of sorts,” Darry said. “He built these gardens, and he was also very fond of puzzles.”

  “Puzzles?”

  “A maze?”

  “A treesha?”

  Darry chuckled. “If that means a maze, then yes. A treesha is a sort of riddle that must be solved?”

  “Yes. You have many words for the same thing.”

  “I used that argument once upon a time,” Darry replied. “But my tutor would not relent and insisted I learn them all. It was very frustrating.”

  Jessa laughed and barely kept herself from brushing her hand against Darry’s. The need to touch her in some way was almost irresistible, and Jessa was uncertain what she should do about it. The past three days she had touched Darry without thinking because Darry had needed her. But she knew that she had indulged herself as well, though only in the smallest of ways. It hurt no one that I touched her hair. But Jessa felt unaccountably guilty now that Darry was getting better. Or that I caressed her skin, the hollow at the base of her throat where it is the softest. Jessa swallowed and closed her eyes for a step. Very soft, actually.

  “King Boris decided that he would make a riddle that no one could solve but everyone might enjoy,” Darry continued. “He was of a dark humor at times, and he spent several years doing this, consulting architects and gardeners and any number of experts on such subjects.”

  “He made his riddle out of the garden?” The idea delighted Jessa.

  “Yes. He even brought a man from Artanis here, who was said to be one of the most powerful wizards in the world. His name was Sebastian.”

  “I know this name,” Jessa said. “Radha has spoken of him. She says he was a mystic of your god Gamar, and that his power was in the blood. Much majik is passed from generation to generation. If your ancestor had majik, Darry, perhaps this is where yours comes from. It is yet another gift.”

  “Perhaps. But I’m not sure I have majik as you think I do.”

  “How so?”

  “I’ll have to show you, and then perhaps you might decide for yourself.”

  “You’re being very mysterious,” Jessa said playfully.

  Darry grinned. “Not really.”

  “Anyway,” Jessa said, “your great-great, perhaps one more great grandfather Boris?”

  “Yes. At the center of the main gardens, this is where Boris built his maze. It took him many years, as I said, and as it grew he wove within the hedgerows and plants, perhaps even the land itself, enchantments that pleased him.”

&nb
sp; Jessa brought them both to a stop. “He made a living maze? Why haven’t I seen it before? I’ve walked these gardens many times, Darry.”

  “Yes. And you’ve not seen it because you don’t know how.”

  Jessa searched the path ahead, its cut green trail winding into the distance. The hedgerows were lined with splashes of heather and periwinkle, even bluebells that hung heavy within the late-afternoon sun. “You have a living maze here?”

  Darry took Jessa’s hand. “What I have to show you is within the maze,” she said. “It can be a dangerous place at times, for the hedgerows will change, as will other features, and strange things will happen there. It frightens many people. Malcolm doesn’t like it, nor does Jacob.”

  “He would make a map of it, yes?” Jessa asked, knowing of Jacob’s penchant for books and scrolls and all things written.

  Darry laughed. “Yes, he tried for many years and then gave up. The pathways are never the same. Do you still wish to see it?”

  “Very much, Darry, but will we find our way out again before it gets dark?”

  “Perhaps,” Darry said, a look of mischief in her eyes. “Will you trust me to bring you home again, Jess?”

  Jess. The way you say my name, so unlike anyone else before. “Of course.”

  Darry turned, pointing with her right hand. “The maze is there.”

  Jessa followed Darry’s hand and let out a hiccup of sound.

  A thick arch stood some thirty feet away from them, the curving wood trellis dripping with vegetation, both ivy and twisted hamesroot sprinkled through with hundreds of white flowers. It stood where nothing had before, save the garden path.

  Jessa started forward, pulling at Darry’s hand. “How?”

  “You need only find the center of the gardens and wish upon it, and so the trellis will appear. But you must know what the entrance looks like. You must have it in your head.”

  Jessa saw as they neared that the trellis was actually alive with thick, twisting arms of maple that rose from the ground and arched in a tangle of bark and ancient branches. “I can feel it, Darry.”

  “Does it ache along your bones?” That was what Darry felt upon entering the maze. It was a fine moment as she wondered what another person might feel who possessed a power not unlike her own. It was a question she had never been able to ask before.