Chandra kept her head down for some time and felt her breath through her body, filling her and then escaping, but always returning. Her muscles hummed from within, and it was as though her blood could be traced through her body as she was still. Eventually, though, Chandra remembered and had to lift her head to the prison and torture chamber of her Master's will.
She raised her head and let her eyes fall on the door. The hair on her neck stood on end as Chandra traced the whorls in the old, graying wood. The age of the wood pressed out like an old, rasping voice and told her that she could destroy it if she wished. She could end her prison through that old matriarch of the forest and free them both from captivity.
Chandra shook her head to push away the feeling as though she were drifting between sleep and wakefulness. Her body didn’t feel tired so much as disconnected. Part of her was gone. She shook her head and then felt a weight on her leg and the whisper brush of silk on her cheek.
“It’s okay,” she murmured. Frostwhite had come to her. The hawk swept at her again with the edge of a snowy wing. Chandra turned to look at him. Her cheeks lifted slowly, and her lips trembled, but she smiled.
“I’m okay,” she told him in a quiet voice. Frostwhite stared at her in a manner that said her words were as believable to him as they were to her.
The promised tray of food arrived a short while later. It was laden with the best foods the kitchen had to offer not to mention wine from Master’s private collection. Frostwhite had flown out the window to gather his dinner. Chandra had splashed some water from the basin on her face to calm her skin, but she had no appetite.
The food was beautifully cooked and hot with steam rising from various plates and bowls. There was a stew with a rich brown broth and golden rolls that Chandra knew would taste slightly of honey. There was also some fowl with shining brown skin nestled in the middle of crisp-cooked cabbage that was the color of wine. Everything was on the plates with bone white faces peeking through the limited gaps between edibles and rimmed with a glimmering gold. The utensils were the type that Master insured were out when visitors from other areas came. The cup was stemless but offered a crystalline view of the dark burgundy liquid inside that glistened with gold swirled in its depths that would be fresh spiced honey.
Her stomach rolled with need and nausea that echoed loudly in the small room. Chandra knew her body needed food, but the thought of even one bite made her tongue go dry. She pulled air into her lungs slowly several times before taking her seat at the table. She reached for a roll and bit in slowly figuring her body would reject it.
Instead, the roll melted in her mouth, and a sound welled out from within her that would make beasts quake and small children run away. Chandra rubbed at her suddenly-sore belly. The moisture filled her mouth, and the roll drew a groan from her and was gone before she realized she had taken another bite.
It was as though her body suddenly came alive and Chandra eyed the food with great anticipation. She pulled the bowl toward her and let the warm broth leave savory memories of venison and fresh herbs on her tongue as it soothed her formerly ravenous stomach. It too was gone before she had done much but lift a spoon for a moment.
Frostwhite had returned and was chewing at something from his perch in the rafters. From the sounds and the way Chandra's stomach still called for nourishment, she was glad she couldn't see whatever the hawk was crunching on.
Chandra made short work of what was on the tray. Tomorrow, when she was back to eating the same foods they always sent her, she would regret not stopping to savor the dishes. Tonight, her body protested as if she hadn’t eaten in a week.
When she finished most of what had been brought, Chandra reached for the goblet of wine. No sooner had her finger touched the cup then she yanked her hand back in pain. There was a small amount of blood on the side of one finger.
Frostwhite stood beside the goblet and glared at her.
“What was that for?” she asked.
One silver eye fixed her with a stare, but Frostwhite did not move nor did he go back to eating his meal in the rafters. Chandra tilted her head and looked at him for a moment before reaching for the goblet again. This time, instead of biting her, the bird only brushed her hand away with one of his massive wings.
“I didn't know birds could be drunkards, but if you must have it, you may," she said, her eyebrows pulled together and her mouth pursed. She was more than a little hurt that her friend was acting this way. She lifted her finger to her mouth to draw the blood away.
"You know, that swiping thing worked, too. Couldn’t you have done that the first time?”
Frostwhite leveled a stare at her, and she sighed.
“So, no wine? Okay, if you say so. Even if that means I have to miss out on one of Master Dreys’ rare vintages to make you happy...” Frostwhite continued to glare at her. “I’m not going to drink it. I promise.” The hawk turned away from her and resumed eating.
Chandra eyed the goblet as she chewed, wondering why Frostwhite hadn't let her drink it. A thought occurred to her.
“If there's something wrong with it but I was expected to drink it, don’t you think they’ll notice if it's untouched when they pick up the tray?”
Frostwhite lifted his head from the food to look at her. He seemed to bob his head in a nod. As Chandra stood and picked up the goblet, she wondered at how much her life had changed that she heeded the advice of a bird and no longer trusted Master.
Other than the nip, Frostwhite hasn't tried to hurt me like Master has.
Chandra lost what was left of her appetite and stood. She picked up the wine glass, walked to the window, and tossed the contents. She hoped the drink didn't have some magic-enhancing potion in it if there was such a thing. If Master suddenly expected her to be able to waltz or walk on her hands, there was going to be a problem.
8
Chandra wasn’t sure exactly what had woken her. The moon was high in its evening movements and only let a spare sliver of light sneak in through her window. There were so many regular noises in the estate that she usually managed to sleep through, that she drowsed with the thought that the noise was nothing. Her room was still without a hint of light from lantern or hall and filled with cold night air that had made her bones and muscles loosen the moment she lay in her bed. The only thing that she was certain of, other than feeling the cool air caress her cheeks, was that it wasn't anywhere close to dawn.
And there's someone other than us in the room.
Chandra remained in her bed and fought to keep her face blank and eyes closed. It was not something she could do for long when visions of an intruder standing over her with a knife snuck into her mind. The urge to jump out of bed was strong. Instead, she drew in slow breaths and let them out while feeling for her heartbeat to slow. When she thought she could control herself and not be pulled forward from some instinctual need to escape, she slowly raised her eyelids enough to peer through her eyelashes.
Near her wash basin, a darkness that was tall and with a distinct shape stood. It was holding a familiar shape that managed to caught the limited light. One of her few belongings was in the hand of the intruder. The brush had been a gift from Master Dreys and was one of the only valuable items Chandra owned. It was all silver that was a mix of braids and a tempered flat piece that held soft bristles and adorned with a single green gem. She didn’t know if the gem was emerald or crystal but cherished it the same. The child in her screamed that it was hers and that the night figure should put it down. It was harder to control her breathing, but Chandra did what she could to quiet both childish voice and her heart.
There were only about eight paces between where the end of her bed was and the basin. If she waited until the figure turned, Chandra thought she could surprise them and...What?
Jump on them? Wrestle it away and scream?I have no fighting ability.
She figured, at best, she could knock the person over and take back her brush. After that, it was anyone's game.
Her b
ody tensed and prepared for movement, but as she was about to jump up, the intruder lifted something that caught the light and stilled her movement. There was a sack in one hand that she hadn't noticed until the new brush had appeared. It was identical, from what she could see, to Chandra's keepsake.
The shadow put down the fake brush and pocketed the real one. For a moment, the figure paused and turned in her direction, and she knew her opportunity had passed. Chandra fought to stay still but keep her breathing regular. Part of her prepared to jump up and get the shadow that passed too near her, but a pressure in her mind stopped her and calmed her movements.
Chandra didn't know why Frostwhite had stopped her, but she heeded his wish and waited.
The intruder slipped softly to the door and stepped outside. Chandra counted her steadily faster heartbeats before standing up and padding softly after the visitor thief. The floor was cold on her bare feet but allowed for her to step in silence, feeling the stone floor with her toes. She had to find out why someone had replaced her brush with an imitation.
The estate was in various shades of shadow with lanterns adorning walls at different intervals to allow for late-night guard patrol. Ahead, the shadow slipped along the corridor and turned left at the end of the hall with Chandra following.
The figure paused, and she mirrored the hesitation where she had been inching along tapestries. The one she trailed turned and looked. Chandra stopped breathing and wished she could silence her heartbeat's drum-like assault. After a moment, the shadow turned away and hurried on with a slow, breathless Chandra following again.
After several twists and turns, the shadow stopped and opened a door, bathing the hall in light from within. Chandra ducked behind a tapestry and peered out the side. The light from inside the room illuminated the tall, slender shadow so that there was no longer a mystery to her as to who had been in her room.
Deakon.
He stepped forward into the bright room and the light dimmed slowly before a click of finality had Chandra's feet closing the distance with haste. She recognized the hall as Master Dreys’ corridor and the room as Master’s private apartments. Voices drifted out to her just as they had when she was a child hiding in a nearby tapestry. She took her childhood hiding place and listened.
“Did you do as I asked?” Master Dreys asked. Chandra didn't hear a reply and assumed that Deakon had nodded because the Master continued. “Good. I assume she didn’t stir?”
“No, Master, she slept,” Deakon responded.
“Good. I had a sleeping draft put in the wine though it probably wasn't necessary. Chandra exhausted herself with magic use. Though, we must always take precautions to make up for your general clumsiness."
Chandra winced.
"We can't be too careful, I think.”
“Yes, Master,” Deakon said. Chandra felt sorry for Deakon until she reminded herself why she was hiding in a tapestry in the middle of the night. The sympathy dispersed as quickly as it had come.
“Tomorrow night, you will do this again, and return her brush to her room.”
Chandra felt confused and could hear the sentiment echoed by Deakon’s.
“Master, why do I need to do that?”
Chandra heard a scuffle and crash followed by a yelp.
“How dare you question me!?” Master Dreys hissed. Chandra drew back from the door at the sound of Master's voice and the scuffle. Neither were things that she would have believed Master would say or do. She reminded herself of past incidents, but they had seemed climactic to what else was happening.
Today was different. Chandra had never witnessed the rage or cold fury she had discovered in him. His admonishments had formerly been a cold glare or blank stare in previous instances. Glittering black eyes filled with something foreign and dangerous appeared in her mind, and she shuddered.
“I must have her brush fitted with a gem so we can return it to her."
Master's voice sounded casual; his tone was as though he was talking about the evening meal or having the rugs cleaned. Nothing in that voice could cut into someone so much as his previous voice had.
“A generous gift, Master,” Deakon responded. The words came out ragged and drawn as though scraped across a piece of rough wood.
“You might say that, but it would be wrong."
Chandra frowned.
"The apprentice I claimed would not have taken so long to come to power, nor would her power be so erratic. The time has reached us that I remove the imposter that has lived among us for so long. A gem will be fitted on her new brush to siphon and store her power so that it can be accessed later,” Master Dreys told him.
“No doubt that stored magic will have a great purpose,” Deakon replied. Chandra noticed some strain in his voice and wondered if it was excitement at the prospect of taking her place.
Pressure threatened to crush her chest, but Chandra forced herself to continue to listen.
Master always said that power occurs through knowledge.
“Yes,” Master Dreys said. Even his relaxed tone caused a shudder to climb her spine and ice to harden her stomach. Chandra wondered at the easy way that Master decided her fate and part of her began to question if this had been planned and if she was ever meant to be an apprentice.
“You may go now, Deakon," Master's voice sliced into her. "I expect you to be fully attentive for your lessons tomorrow and to report to me at the same time tomorrow night.”
“Yes, Master,” Deakon responded. Chandra closed her eyes and leaned into the rough stones behind her, feeling each rounded edge dig into her skin as though it, too, sought to rip out her heart.
When Deakon departed, Chandra took it as a signal to hasten back to her room before being discovered. As she moved to make her way along the wall of the corridors, she tripped. Her feet tangled in the tasseled bottom of the tapestry and Chandra fought to free herself. She had made no headway when she heard the latch on the door click open. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the worst to happen.
Soft steps came out of the dark room, and the door made the familiar sound she had heard almost every day of her life in entering or leaving Master's study. Lantern light spilled gently into the hall in a foggy circle that made the floor look both shiny and dull as the circle spread. She squeezed her eyelids closed like a child and prayed that some miracle would prevent Master Dreys from seeing her.
He shut the door and stood in the hallway. His footsteps did not come toward where Chandra lay nor did they proceed in the other direction. Chandra waited for him to speak to her and call her out for her ridiculous behavior before calling a guard to lock her away. After several moments of silence, she opened one eye and looked at Master. His eyes were focused on the book in his free hand. Chandra held her breath and waited. When Master turned in her direction, he cocked his head and frowned at where Chandra and the tapestry were tangled together.
9
Master Dryes looked up and down the hallway.
“I would think the children would know better than to play in the wall hangings," Master sighed. "Andre will find who is responsible in the morning and punish them."
Chandra watched him walk down the hall, his deep voice bouncing off the floors in the silent night as he mumbled about "useless children" and "important work."
When he rounded a corner, Chandra reached down to untangle herself, looking now and then at the direction Master had gone.
He had looked right at her and not seen her. She looked down at herself and, for a moment, she thought about her need to hide from Master. She had been wrapped in fear when the tapestry caught her, and she knew that if he found her like that, after everything he had said, she wouldn't ever be free or safe. She watched in amazement as her legs faded to shadow and then returned as she focused on them.
Chandra regained her feet and made a slow, quiet journey back down the hallway to her room.
“Frostwhite?” she whispered. Chandra didn't believe that she had been responsible for the disappearing ac
t on her own. The only answer she could come up with was that Frostwhite had helped. In her room, she settled on the bed to think. So much had happened.
She felt the air move and the bed shift long before Frostwhite was close enough to brush her with the edge of a wing. His coloring should have made him a beacon in the darkness that otherwise wrapped the room in impenetrable silence, but he was ghost-like beside her. She reached one hand out to touch the edge of his wing before dropping it in her lap.
"I don't suppose you can understand what just happened without me reliving it, can you? I'm not sure I'll be able to hold it together if I think about it all."
Chandra's voice, though only a slight sound that came from her lips echoed harshly around them as though scraping away the remainder of her strength. She felt her chest tighten, and her eyes burn, but she fought the emotions. Her fingers curled in, and the knuckles whitened in her lap as she gripped any last shred of control inside to push away the reaction that wanted to smother her with tears.
I need to figure out what to do next; one step at a time until I can figure out how I can get myself out of this.
Chandra pulled in the frigid air, letting it soften the sharp feeling inside her chest and stomach. She decided she had to master the power available to her and be on her guard.
Chandra had always trusted Master Dreys but didn’t know the man behind the familiar face. She had always known that when or if she came into power it would change some aspects of her life and their relationship. She had not known it would make her feel more out of place than she had felt before her magic.
“Frostwhite?” Chandra called softly.
She had assumed his presence had amplified whatever latent ability had allowed whatever it was that had happened.
Did I disappear? Blend into the floor?
Chandra wasn't sure what had happened, but she doubted that she would have been able to do it without the hawk. Everything about him seemed to be a comfort to her in anxiety or fear. Frostwhite's presence reminded her of stepping from a cold, stark hallway into a room warm with the heat from a fireplace. She felt safe and accepted. She looked at the great bird who looked back through his silver eyes, head cocked.
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