by M. J. Haag
“Let honest words spill from your lips as quickly as the blood spills from your throat. Does Kellen still live?”
“Yes,” the man rasped.
“Can she escape the wood on her own?” she asked.
“No.”
He gurgled and fell to the carpet, jerking as what remained of his vitality was inhaled by Maeve.
She gave a satisfied sigh and looked at Porcia.
“Please fetch Hugh.”
Porcia left the room at a calm pace as if her pretty yellow skirt wasn’t dotted with blood.
“Cecilia, can you let Heather and Catherine know we’ll need to wash before dinner. Also, let them know they’ll need to tidy in here as soon as possible.”
Cecilia nodded and went to do as Maeve asked.
Stunned, I sat in my chair and stared at the dead man. Maeve noticed and returned to the chair beside me.
“Are you all right, my sweet?” she asked.
“Yes, Mama,” I said though I was far from okay. While the death was gruesome and terrifying, that alone hadn’t sent my heart racing. Kellen was still in the Dark Forest, protected only by a patch of sunlight and little men.
“Perhaps I’m not all right,” I said.
“Tell me what troubles you.”
“Kellen was alive when he last saw her, but how do we know she still is?”
Maeve patted my hand.
“You love your sister so. Let us check.”
Maeve took my hand and led me from the room. I listened to her call upon her mirror and waited for the image of my sister. Once again, it showed her sleeping. It wasn’t like her to sleep so early in the day. And it was most unlike her to sleep on the dirt.
I stared at her peaceful face, unsure what to do next. If what the tracker said was true, Kellen could no longer help me. Instead, she needed my help. But, how could I help her without endangering her further?
“What are you thinking?” Maeve asked.
“It’s not like her to sleep so early,” I said, choosing the safest thought to share. “Who has Kellen? Why can’t we see them?”
Maeve tried again to get the mirror to show her the home where Kellen slept at night or the people who protected her. But, the first question only showed our home and the second showed me.
Maeve turned to me, an angry light in her eyes.
“Go to the dining room and wait for me there. This mirror vexes me.”
I hurriedly left, and listened to the echo of the wooden rod smack against the mirror behind me.
In the dining room, I calmly took my seat at the table and checked my clothing. I’d never been so grateful to wear black. No visual reminder of the scene I just witnessed remained.
After the noise in the hall quieted, Maeve joined me, followed by Cecilia then Porcia. Catherine and Heather began serving a meal of roasted quail in brandied briarberry sauce on a bed of new spring greens. Catherine glanced at me as she set the plate before Porcia but quickly looked away. Did Heather and she think I was now under Maeve’s thumb? Would they wonder if I had a part in what happened in the sitting room?
I daintily cut into the quail Heather had set before me and took my first bite.
“This is lovely,” I said to no one in particular, keeping my focus on my food.
“You’re quite right,” Maeve said. “Thank you for preparing such a delicious meal, Heather and Catherine. Your hard work for this family is noticed and very appreciated.”
“Thank you, My Lady,” they both said quietly.
As they left the room, I hoped my praise had answered the question of whether or not I was involved.
“Girls, it would seem our first tracker failed us. I cannot, in good conscience, leave Kellen in danger in the Dark Forest. Tomorrow we must locate good, able-bodied men who will not run in fear at the sight of a beastie in the trees.”
“Yes, Mama,” both Cecilia and Porcia said between bites.
I could barely focus on my food as my mind raced. For certain, more than one question had been answered this evening. I now knew how Mr. Bentwell had died, and I also knew that Kellen wasn’t yet out of danger from Maeve.
After dinner, I returned to my room where I once again read the book of fairy tales by the lamp’s light. This time out of boredom rather than necessity. A whisper of noise pulled me from the story. I listened closely and heard it again.
Picking up the lamp, I left the bed and walked lightly across the floor. I followed the sound to the outside wall near the stairs. It seemed a voice was coming from under a stack of chairs. Moving them quietly, I found a vent in the floor.
Words drifted up to me, and I leaned closer to hear.
“…ruined my favorite dress,” Cecilia said. “Blood never truly comes out. Now I have to draw from my store of power to remove it by other means. These are costly mistakes.”
“Perhaps the mistake is using your power to clean a dress. It’s better to purchase a new one,” Porcia said.
Cecilia snorted.
“If we knew there was time, perhaps. But we don’t know when he’ll arrive, do we?”
Porcia sighed.
“No. We don’t. I can’t believe not a single person of worth knows where the prince is. He left before we did. He should be here by now. If we were in town, we would probably learn more.”
Something creaked.
“Mama,” Porcia said. “I didn’t mean—”
“Quiet. You did mean. Cecilia, stop wasting your magic on cleaning silly gowns. Porcia is right in that. She’s also right about no one of worth knowing anything. We’ve been overlooking the obvious. It’s not someone of worth who would know the prince’s whereabouts.” A slap sounded in the room. “Even if we lived in town, we would know nothing more than we do now. This home is the gateway to the castle. Tomorrow, after we return from town, I will remove your doubt.”
Chapter Seven
Porcia had been exceptionally quiet at breakfast, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was fearing how her mother planned to remove her doubt once they returned from town. Most likely.
My stepsister’s fear probably equaled my own, though for different reasons. Why were they trying to learn when the prince would arrive? How did they believe our home was a gateway to the castle? Because of proximity? I was tempted to tell Maeve that I’d never once seen any of the Royal family, despite living on the King’s lands.
A lock slid in the door, and Catherine called out for me.
“I’ve brought your tray, miss.”
I hurried to the top of the stairs and watched her ascend. Behind her, the door closed and locked as it had every day Maeve was gone and the midday meal could not be served in the dining room.
“I’m sorry you have to carry it up here,” I said.
“There’s no need to apologize.” She met my gaze as she reached the top. “Heather and I know this is not your doing.”
The way she said the words while holding my gaze brought tears of relief to my eyes. I quickly turned away and nodded, hating that I could not speak openly to her. Hating that she would be forced to repeat our conversation to Maeve, compelled by the same spell that bound me.
“I’ve brought you a nice stew and fresh biscuits,” she said, moving around me to set the tray on a small table beside a chair I’d placed outside of my room. The chair was one from the pile I’d moved in order to better hear the conversation in Cecilia’s room. I’d spent some time this morning uncovering all the vents under the guise of creating a sitting area for myself.
“It looks nice up here,” Catherine said hesitantly as I took a seat.
“It’s more spacious than I need,” I said. “But it suits me well.”
She lifted the lid from the soup bowl and uncovered the biscuits.
“Is there anything else you need before I take the chamber pot?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“Thank you, Catherine, to you and Heather both, for taking such good care of me.”
“As your mother requested,” Catherine said.
“Yes, as Mama requested.”
She nodded, gave my shoulder a light squeeze, and went to my room for the chamber pot. I started to eat, my thoughts wandering back to what Maeve and her daughters were doing in town. I hoped they wouldn’t find more trackers. Although the Dark Forest was dangerous, Kellen was safely out of Maeve’s reach. That meant I could run when the time was right. But only if I could get Catherine and Heather to run with me.
“Have you given any thought where you would like to travel, if you could travel anywhere?” I asked.
Catherine gave me a knowing look.
“There’s nowhere else I would rather be than here, miss. This place calls to me like no other. Don’t let my lack of dreams influence yours,” she said.
I wasn’t certain, but it sounded like she was trying to tell me to run. While I watched, she began to roll back the sleeve of her gown. On the inside of her elbow, I saw a red mark that resembled the faint outline of a raven.
It was too perfect to be a birthmark, which could only mean that Maeve had done something to her.
“I think it’s healthy for all young girls to dream a bit. Just so you keep your head where it’s supposed to be.”
And where, I wondered, was that? Unable to ask directly, I focused instead on her mark. “This soup is delicious. Leeks?”
Catherine nodded.
“Who goes to town for supplies?” I asked.
“Hugh,” she said. “Heather and I provide a list of what we need so we can stay where we belong.”
With that, I understood. Maeve had magically bound Heather and Catherine to the estate. Even if they wanted to run, they wouldn’t be able to. And if I ran, they would suffer.
I set my spoon down and looked out the small window.
“The soup displeases you, miss?” Catherine asked quietly, and I knew we weren’t speaking of the soup but her answer.
“Confined to this attic on a sunny day displeases me,” I said bluntly. “I miss the sun and the wind and the sound of the trees. I miss visiting my mother’s grave. I miss my sister.”
She nodded, a sorrowful expression on her face, then left with the chamber pot.
I managed to finish the soup after it had long gone cold and clouds began to blot out the sun. I’d only just put the spoon aside again when I heard the rattle of an approaching carriage. I rose and checked the window.
Maeve had returned, but not alone. Several riders followed.
I hurriedly moved to the attic door to wait. Heather opened it several minutes later.
“Your mother is waiting for you in the sitting room.”
I was already passing Heather and racing down the stairs. At the last moment, I slowed and entered the sitting room at a serene pace. Maeve stood in the center of the room with Cecilia and Porcia on each side of her but a step back. Before Maeve, with their backs to the windows, stood a group of five men. They all watched me enter.
“Good afternoon, Mama,” I said, only looking at Maeve.
Maeve smiled and gestured to a chair against a wall. The simple unspoken command was clear. I was here to observe but not interfere.
I sat and watched Maeve face the men. She held her hand out to Cecilia, who placed five gold coins in her palm.
“By accepting a coin, you are binding yourself to my service,” Maeve said. “Do you understand?”
The men nodded, and she handed each of them a coin. The moment they took them, a green light flashed in their eyes. I wondered if they were even aware they were now under her spell. I recalled Timmy Bell, and his reaction, and guessed that they did not.
“My daughter, Kellen, is missing,” Maeve said. “She’s in a cottage in the Dark Forest. I need you to go to her and await my command.”
One of the men looked down at the coin.
“A gold piece to risk our lives in the Dark Forest? We all know the tales. There are creatures in those trees that will turn a man into a beast with a bite.”
“If they don’t eat you first,” another man said.
“The gold coin is not payment but protection. So long as you have it on your person, no beast made of magic will be able to harm you.”
“How do we know it will work?” the first man asked.
Cecilia picked up a lamp and began softly chanting words I couldn’t quite hear. As I watched, the lamp blurred its appearance, changing like the mirror when it shifted images. It melted into the form of a small dog.
“Bite the man,” Cecilia said.
The dog darted forward and jumped up to clamp down on the man’s hand. The man lifted his arm and looked at the dog dangling from his fingers.
“Are you hurt?” Maeve asked.
“Not a bit,” the man answered.
“Are you done questioning my authority and knowledge, or do you need further proof of the magic of which I’m capable?”
I saw the exact moment they all realized the precariousness of their situation.
“We need no proof, My Lady,” the stockiest man said with a slight bow. “We are in your service and follow your command.”
She smiled at the man.
“What is your name?”
“Grimm.”
“A fine name,” she said with a smile. “I believe fate led you to me, Grimm. You shall lead these men and report to me once you find my daughter. Kellen is a rare beauty, like her sister, with ebony hair and bright blue eyes. She’s intelligent. Do not disregard her because of her gender.”
She handed Grimm the box.
“To find her, have one of your men use this box.” As with the previous tracker, she explained how the box worked, the cost of using it, and the purpose of the ribbon. Then Maeve held out her hand to Porcia. Her daughter handed over a blade, and I braced myself.
There was no throat slashing this time, though. Maeve took the man’s hand and pricked his finger. His gaze never left her as she lifted it to her lips. A soft grunt escaped him the moment her mouth closed over the tip, and the front of his pants stirred as she began to suckle his finger. My cheeks heated as he moaned and closed his eyes.
When she released him, he looked at her, his eyes blazing green.
“We are bound now, Grimm,” she said. “You can speak to me whenever you wish through any reflective surface. All you need to do is call my name. Maeve.”
“I belong to you and only you,” he said, the words reminiscent of Hugh’s.
“I know,” she said, releasing him. “And when you successfully complete your task and return to me, I will reward you in ways you cannot possibly imagine.”
The man’s gaze heated.
“Go,” she said gently. “Fulfill my will. Find my daughter, and report to me. Do not return until I ask it of you.”
He nodded, and the group left the room.
“Cecilia. Porcia. Please let Heather and Catherine know we’re expecting guests tonight. Then go prepare yourselves. We’ll take what little remains.”
After they too left, Maeve crossed the room and sat beside me. She took my hand, her fingers squeezing me gently.
“Have no doubt they will find and retrieve your sister. I will not fail to reunite you again.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
“You asked what you could do to help, and I do have a task for you. Do you recall the prince’s servant? The one you thought killed your mother?”
It took everything I had not to jerk from her touch at the mention of Kaven. It felt like a lifetime ago since I’d last laid eyes on the man that I’d mistakenly suspected of wrongdoing. So much had changed since then that I’d all but forgotten him.
“Yes,” I said.
She tilted her head at me.
“Yes, Mama.”
She smiled.
“I would like you to get to know him. I need you to gain his trust and confidence. Can you do that?”
My heart raced with excitement as my mind raced with the possibilities this opportunity might present. In order for me to gain Kaven’s confidence, Maeve would need to let me
out of the attic. I would be able to run. I briefly thought of Catherine and Heather then of Kellen. If I ran before the trackers reached her maybe—
“Do you think I ask too much?” Maeve asked.
I immediately regretted my silence.
“I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “I wasn’t very nice to him in the past. I’m afraid he might not be willing to spend time with me.”
Maeve smiled widely.
“He’s a man. I promise he will want to spend time with you if you approach him correctly.”
Catherine entered the room.
“I beg your pardon, My Lady. How many guests should we prepare for tonight?”
“There will be twenty. Just a light meal. No need to waste good food on them. You can serve us a full meal afterward.”
Confusion clouded Catherine’s gaze, but she nodded and left the room. I was less confused. Whatever Maeve planned tonight, I doubted the men who arrived would see another sunrise after they entered our doors.
I stood before Maeve in the entry. Dressed in my finest mourning gown with my hair piled high, I endured her appraising gaze.
“You are quite lovely, Eloise,” she said. “Dare I say…you might even be lovelier than my own daughters.”
“Thank you, Mama,” I said.
She made a non-committal noise.
“Catherine mentioned that you miss your walks outside. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to appear ungrateful,” I said. It was a very true statement. I feared what Maeve would do if I showed her anything but gratitude. Yet, saying what I had in front of Catherine had been a purposeful thing. I wanted Maeve to know I was chafing for a bit of freedom but not acting on those urges. I’d hoped it would help further win Maeve’s trust.
“You should always speak freely with me,” she said. “I want to know what you’re thinking at all times.”
Her amulet pulsed with life as she spoke the words. The familiar warmth wrapped around me. I raged against it, mentally pushing it away. I wouldn’t tell her everything. What secrets I had were mine to keep. And, for the safety of Kellen, I could not tell Maeve everything. The warmth drifted away instead of seeping into my bones.
“Go on,” Maeve said. “Tell me.”