Shardless

by Stephanie Fisher

  Taly whipped around to glower at him. “Yes ‘oh.’ Aimee barged in here while I was bathing. She didn’t even knock.”

  Of course, she did, Skye thought, suppressing a groan. Aimee Bryer, Ivain and Sarina’s great-grandniece, was the heir to a lesser barony on the fey mainland and had been visiting Harbor Manor every year since Skye had turned 20. Even though it seemed like it had been far, far longer since he’d first met the prissy noblewoman, this would only be the fifth time that Skye had been forced to endure her presence at the manor.

  Studiously ignoring the places where Taly’s white shift had become slightly transparent underneath her damp hair, Skye muttered, “Well, Aimee always did like your room better than the guest quarters.”

  Skye sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck when he heard Taly scoff. That was, perhaps, a bit of an understatement. Less than an hour after being introduced for the first time, Aimee had tried to have Taly evicted from her own room, arguing that a “mortal pet” shouldn’t have nicer quarters than a fey noblewoman. That, of course, hadn’t sat well with Skye. Or Sarina. Or Ivain—who had promptly shown Aimee back to the guest wing.

  “Don’t worry,” Skye said smoothly, doing his best to mollify the irate girl. “Even if you hadn’t come to dinner, we wouldn’t have let her use the room. It’s still yours.”

  “That’s not the point,” Taly replied, glancing at Skye over her shoulder. Her scowl deepened.

  “Talya, if you don’t stop squirming, I’m going to cut an ear off. And it might not be accidental.” Sarina placed a firm hand on the top of Taly’s head and twisted her back around to face the mirror.

  Taly stared at Skye’s reflection, her arms crossed. “Why didn’t you tell me that Aimee was coming to visit so much later this year? She and Aiden usually come at the end of Yule.”

  “Because then you wouldn’t have come. Can you blame me for trying to increase my odds?” Taly’s eyes narrowed, but she remained silent. “And besides,” he said, trying to look contrite, “she and Aiden just arrived this afternoon. They’ll probably be too tired to come down for dinner. I doubt you’ll have to see her again.”

  That seemed to somewhat abate her fury. Somewhat being the operative word. Taly was still scowling, but at least it was no longer at him. Deciding to keep his mouth shut while he was ahead, Skye wandered into the adjoining room, absentmindedly inspecting the random collection of disassembled mortal tech that lay scattered across the surface of an old worktable. Countless hours of his childhood had been spent within these walls. He knew almost everything about this collection of rooms.

  For example, he knew that the board by the main door creaked, so it was important to be careful and step over it when sneaking around after everyone had gone to bed. And that crack in the doorframe—that had mysteriously appeared after an unfortunate incident with an experimental catapult that Taly had fashioned out of gate tech. There was a matching crack in the door leading to his quarters just across the hall that had mysteriously appeared around the same time.

  “There! All finished,” Sarina proclaimed, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

  Skye turned and couldn’t help but smile. He had always known that Sarina was a miracle worker, but she had outdone herself this time. She had somehow transformed Taly’s unruly tangle of hair into something far less chaotic. It was still quite messy by fey standards, but the wilder flyaways had been tamed and now curled gently, cascading out of a loose twist at the base of the young woman’s slender neck. A few rebellious strands had already managed to escape and framed her face.

  “Now, where is that cosmetic glamour?” Sarina said mostly to herself, picking through a small jewelry box. Finding what she was looking for, she reached for Taly.

  Taly stubbornly waved her hands away. “No. I don’t like glamours. They itch.”

  Ignoring the girl’s feeble attempts to ward off her advance, Sarina firmly grabbed her chin and turned her head. Despite Taly’s squirming, she expertly clipped on a pair of small silver earrings set with blue water crystals. The glamour shimmered as it activated, and in the mirror, Skye could see that Taly’s cheeks were now just a little rosier and her lashes a little darker. “Lovely,” Sarina said, turning back to the vanity and reaching for a flowered jar. “Still, I think it’s missing something. Maybe just a little kohl around the eyes?”

  This time, Taly jumped out of the chair and crossed the room. It seemed she was done being cooperative. “Nope. That’s where I draw the line.”

  “But, Taly. You have such pretty eyes. Gray eyes are so rare, even among the fey.”

  Skye chuckled as he made his way back into the main room and leaned against the doorframe. He had seen this battle play out time and time again. It always ended the same.

  “Absolutely not,” Taly said heatedly. “You always poke me in the eye. I’m lucky I still have both of them.”

  “Now, Taly—"

  “No.”

  Seeing that she wasn’t going to win, Sarina held up her hands in surrender. “Well then, it seems my work here is done,” she declared. Gesturing towards the bed, she added, “I’ve already laid out a dress for you. Skye, I need to get myself ready. Would you mind helping her with the laces?”

  “My normal clothes are fine,” Taly said through clenched teeth, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her shift.

  Sarina turned and gave her a motherly stare. “Oh, of course, dear. But, I’m afraid I already sent them to the laundry. They were quite damp. You’re lucky you didn’t catch a cold.”

  Taly wasn’t buying the act. “I’m sure there’s something else in my closet that I wouldn’t find quite so… offensive.”

  Smiling evasively, Sarina replied, “Oh, I’m afraid I sent your old clothes to the laundry too. I was dusting in here today, and I noticed that everything needed to be laundered. Everything except that lovely lavender dress you never got a chance to wear.” Not waiting for a reply, Sarina turned and swept out of the room with a swish of her skirts, confident in her victory.

  “I hate it when she does that.” Taly looked crestfallen as she considered the offending garment draped across the foot of her bed.

  “You left me all alone with her and her scheming when you left. It serves you right,” Skye teased gently, coming to stand behind her.

  Taly looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed. “Yeah, but you’re a guy. She hasn’t tried to make you wear a dress.”

  “Yet,” Skye snorted. “She was getting close though. She hasn’t had anyone to dress up in a long time. In fact, you probably saved me a lifetime of embarrassment today. Between you and me, I don’t think I have the figure to pull off a corset.”

  Taly sighed dramatically and approached the bed, running a finger across the jeweled beading that peppered the structured bodice. To be fair, the dress was very pretty—at least Skye thought so. It was just far too elaborate and “poofy,” as Taly used to say, for her liking. She had always hated the voluminous ballgowns that seemed so popular among the fey nobility.

  Carefully picking up the dress, Taly held it up to her body for appraisal. She almost looked scared of the pale lavender mass of satin and lace. “Might as well get this over with.”

  “Should I hum a funeral dirge or something? You know, to set the mood?”

  “Shut up!” came the curt reply along with a string of muttered cursing as she disappeared behind the dressing screen.

  Deciding it was in his best interest to let her fight this battle on her own, Skye plopped himself down on the bed. A small, brown package bounced and landed beside him.

  This must be Taly’s.

  Curious, he reached for it.

  “Don’t touch that.”

  Skye jumped, startled. Looking at the screen, he didn’t see any indication that she had been watching him. “What is it?” he asked.

  “It’s none of your business,” she snapped back in between muffled sighs and grunts. “Damn it. Why is women’s clothing so complicated? It makes no sense.”


  “Taly, what have you gotten yourself into?” he asked, now staring at the package suspiciously.

  “It’s nothing,” she said, stepping around the screen. “Just a little something I wanted to try out.”

  Skye could tell she was hedging. Making a mental note to revisit this issue later, he decided to drop the subject for now. Their relaxed, casual banter almost made it seem like the events of the past year had never happened, and he was loath to break whatever spell had managed to revive the easy familiarity.

  He looked up as he heard her bare feet padding across the expanse of the room and felt his breath catch in his throat. The pastel fabric perfectly complemented Taly’s fair skin, and the bodice tapered elegantly into the folds of the skirt, revealing a narrow, feminine waist. Skye was suddenly having a hard time remembering if she used to fill out her other dresses quite so well.

  “You know, for the fuss you put up, the dress isn’t half bad,” he said, feeling slightly awkward. He took a deep breath as he moved around to tighten the laces on the back of the bodice.

  Taly stood up a little straighter as he pulled the laces taut, absentmindedly fiddling with the teardrop pendant around her neck. It was a plain little piece—polished, pink quartz and no bigger than a thumbnail—and she still wore the delicate silver chain he had given to her years ago as a birthday present. As she twirled her wrist, Skye caught sight of a crescent-shaped scar at the base of her palm. Reaching out, he stilled her hands, rubbing a thumb across the blemished flesh.

  It was a magical burn—evidence that his worst fears were true. He’d actually hurt her that day in the training yard. Except for their disastrous confrontation in Ryme a few weeks after she’d left, that incident marked the last time he’d seen her.

  “Was this… did I do this?” Skye whispered, staring at the little scar intently. In the aftermath of her departure, he had never been able to figure out just what had happened. They had been sparring, and when he began to discharge the dagger in her hand—just like he’d done countless times before—she had dropped to the ground, screaming in pain. He had rushed to help her, but she wouldn’t let him. Instead, she had run inside and locked herself in her bedroom. Nobody knew she was gone until the next morning.

  Taly chewed at her lip. “It’s not your fault,” she finally replied, equally quiet. “That’s just the price I paid for trying to use an enchanted weapon in a fight against a shadow mage. Really, I’m the one to blame.” She attempted a laugh, but it died in her throat.

  Skye wanted to ask her the one question he had been repeating to himself over and over since she left. Is that why you ran away? He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to form the words.

  Sensing his hesitation, Taly said, “That’s not why I left. At least, not completely.” For a moment it looked like she was going to say more, but she didn’t. Instead, she closed her mouth with an audible click of her teeth.

  He continued to stare at the mark. Even after a year, it was still there—an angry, purple welt.

  Pulling her hand away, she asked, “Are you finished?”

  “Uh… not yet,” Skye stammered as he turned back to the laces on the back of her dress. He worked quickly, making sure to carefully conceal the white shift beneath the delicate silk of her gown.

  “There. All done,” he said stiffly as Taly turned around to face him. The lighthearted atmosphere had dissipated, and she wouldn’t look him in the eye. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well, since Sarina and Ivain seem intent on making this a formal affair, I should probably go change. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  Skye turned and made for the door. His throat felt tight, and he wanted nothing more than to retreat to the quiet solitude of his private chambers.

  “Hey, Skye. Wait a minute,” Taly called as he crossed the room to leave. “Does Sarina still send the laundry out?”

  Skye paused and then let out a rumbling laugh. She had finally figured it out.

  “Just now catching on?” he asked, a little too pleased.

  He didn’t need to turn around to see the dawning look of horror on her face as she started to realize the full extent of Sarina’s manipulation. The laundry wouldn’t be delivered until the next morning.

  “You cagey bastards trapped me here.”

  “See you downstairs,” Skye responded in a sing-song voice as he excused himself.

  Chapter 4

  -From the personal diary of Talya Caro

  I had the dream again last night. The dream about the fire.

  It began differently this time. Rather than being shaken awake as the fires blazed outside, it started out peacefully. I was standing in a garden with a man that seemed so familiar to me. His face was scarred, but his eyes were kind. He made me feel safe. But when I tried to focus on anything else about him—the color of his hair, the clothes he wore, or even his name—the more difficult it became to stay present.

  We were walking a circuitous garden path, and my hands danced through an intricate series of gestures. Gold dust started to materialize and weave itself around my fingers, and in my dream, it almost felt like that energy was a natural part of me—an extension of something deep inside that I’ve somehow forgotten.

  The dream skipped forward at that point. No matter what, no matter how many times I relive this same nightmare, I always end up face-to-face with a woman. She’s speaking, but I can’t quite make out her words. It’s as though we’re underwater.

  And that is where the dream always ends. Every time, I wake with the same alarming sense that something awful has happened to that woman. I dream so often of her. In contrast to the man, I can recall every detail about her. Her face. The dimple in her cheek. Even the spatters of blood that dot her fingernails as she strokes my hair. I don’t even know if she’s real, and yet, I’m always left with an inexplicable sense of loss.

  Taly gasped, startled awake by a familiar sense of dread. The illusory sting of smoke still clouded her eyes and sweat beaded on her brow as she emerged from the already fading memory of the blistering heat.

  Taking a deep breath, she sunk into the mattress as the rapid beat of her heart began to slow. This particular nightmare was nothing new. She’d been reliving the night of the fire that stole away her old life for as long as she could remember, so the initial terror, though acute, was fleeting.

  With a sigh, Taly stubbornly pulled the impossibly soft quilt over her chin and flopped onto her side, wriggling until she was fully ensconced inside a cocoon of fluffy blue blankets. How could it be morning already? It felt like she had gone to bed only moments ago.

  I guess that’s what a soft bed will do for you. Shards, I miss soft beds. And food. And champagne. Shards, how much coin did Ivain and Sarina throw away on just champagne last night?

  She tried cracking open her eyes again, flinching away from the bright light streaming in through a gap in the curtains. A quick glance around her old room immediately confirmed her worst fears. She really had agreed to come back to the manor.

  Taly still wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up here. She had successfully avoided coming back home for nearly a year, and then Skye had somehow talked her into returning within the span of a few minutes. It was almost pitiful if she really thought about it.

  That doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done. As nice as it had been to be reunited with all the people she loved most—eating and laughing together like she had never walked out on them—she needed to leave. She would finish the job today and then go back to her new life. Even if nothing bad had happened in the past year, she was no longer comfortable staying here. Not with her… condition.

  As if to reinforce that thought, a gossamer fog fluttered across her vision.

  Not again, Taly thought, bringing her hands up to shield her eyes. Most of the time, if she just took a deep breath and willed the visions to go away, they would.

  When she dared to peek through her fingers, it became clear that wasn’t going to be the case today. The golden mist w
as still there, hovering in the far corner of the room. It flickered, its edges hazy and undefined until, finally, it molded itself into the ghostly likeness of a woman. As Taly continued to stare, the specter listlessly drifted across the perimeter of the room before coming to a stop in front of the door. It raised a hand as if to knock but then paused, its edges already blurring as the image dissolved.

  These visions—premonitions, as she had started thinking of them—used to frighten her, but she had become accustomed to their sudden appearances at this point.

  At least… that’s what she was still trying to tell herself.

  In the beginning, she had hoped, prayed, pleaded with whatever might be listening, that she was just going crazy. After all, humans weren’t supposed to have magic. And every time an earth mage came to the island, she had considered going to see him, desperate for this strange power to be nothing more than an affliction.

  But she never did. Because if it wasn’t an illness, easily cured with magic and medicine, if she really was seeing some version of the future…

  The Sanctorum would not be kind to her. Or anyone stupid enough to try to protect her.

  Taly listened closely, straining her ears for signs of movement. It was faint, but she could just make out the sound of measured footsteps as they echoed down the hallway. They came closer and closer, coming to a stop right outside her door. After a moment of hesitation, there was a soft knock.

  “Taly?” came Sarina’s gentle voice from behind the door.

  Her voice still raspy with sleep, Taly replied, “Yeah. I’m up.”

  “I’m leaving your things outside the door. The others aren’t up yet, so take your time. Eliza’s already put on a pot of coffee—it’s downstairs when you’re ready.” With that, she heard Sarina turn and walk back down the hallway towards the stairs.

  Stretching, Taly decided it was time to get out of bed. She was just postponing the inevitable at this point, and she had coin to earn. She had finally managed to corner Ivain and Skye the night before to get the details of the job. It was real. And while she knew they were overpaying her, she was desperate enough not to care.