Riftkeepers: Reckoning

by Carrie Whitethorne

  Charlotte closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. “Fe, it’s not—”

  “Charlotte and Dane have a unique friendship, Ferne,” Callan explained. “They’re far more deeply connected than most people are to their friends. So, no, Charlotte is not his wife, but she’s extremely important to him and he’ll push her. He’ll push her to limits I can’t. He’ll protect her as fiercely as either of us would, and he loves her unconditionally. That’s why.”

  Charlotte looked at him for several moments before pushing a thought to him.

  Thank you for understanding.

  He gave her a subtle nod and but continued to watch Ferne for a response.

  Ferne frowned. “What? Like soulmates?”

  Callan shrugged. “Not in the traditional sense. And I don’t know how, or why, but that’s how it is.”

  “And you’re not bothered?”

  Dagda mumbled something and shifted uncomfortably, but Callan ignored him. Instead of addressing Ferne directly, he turned to Charlotte, meeting her wide-eyed stare, and said, “No. I don’t choose her friends any more than she chooses mine. She’s lucky to have him.”

  Charlotte’s eyes welled with tears and the children looked up at her with concern. “I’m okay,” she sniffed. “Come on. Let’s go home.” Turning to Ferne and Dagda, she said, “Thanks for your help today. I really do appreciate it.”

  Dagda nodded and gripped Ferne’s hand before they disappeared.

  “Are we just leaving these boxes?” Charlotte asked, about to clear them up.

  “We’ll get them tomorrow,” Callan said, taking her hand. “We may even find a use for them here.”

  “Like that bus?” she snorted, glancing over her shoulder as Zander gripped her hand.

  Dane didn’t show up until after two. Callan had been gone over an hour, so she’d busied herself in the kitchen while she waited.

  “What’s wrong now?” he asked, appearing by the sink.

  Rubbing a hand through her hair, she sighed. “Oh, nothing. Ferne and her mouth again.”

  “I was amazed she was there, the state she was in last night. Did Dagda drag her out?”

  “Dunno. But she started asking stupid questions and put Callan right on the spot. He put her straight, but…”

  He frowned and said, “Show me.”

  She pushed the memory of their exchange to him, his mouth tilting down at the corners as he watched. “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “What?”

  “I did wonder when he was going to ask me to stop spending so much time with you. But it looks like we’re all good.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “If he saw something else; if he misunderstood. But he hasn’t.” He ran a hand through his hair and added with a quiet laugh, “Seems he has a better understanding than I do. So stop fussing.”

  She sighed, looking up at him. “What’s the plan then?”

  “Practicing multiple shields and defence. We need some of the kids’ toys.”

  “Toys? Okay,” she said, heading for the lounge.

  In the back corner of the room was Zander’s castle and toy soldiers. Pointing to them, she asked, “Will they do?”

  Dane sat on the sofa, using his magic to pull a handful of the soldiers towards him and arranged them on the coffee table. “Okay, shield them all. Keep this away from them,” he said, placing a large marble in the centre of the table. “I’ll push it towards them, to knock them over; you stop it. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, blowing out her cheeks.

  He glanced up at her as he arranged the toys on the table. “Why are you nervous?”

  “I keep screwing it up,” she said quietly, looking down at her hands.

  He shook his head and sat back. “Okay, go.”

  Her eyes flicked around the table as she checked the tiny shield covering each of the toy soldiers, then turned her attention to the now rolling marble. Gently, she pushed it away from her little army, back towards Dane. It spun on the spot for a moment, then shot at the little wooden figure off to the right. Almost too late, she caught it, but not before the marble had met her shield. The resistance slowed the marble, and Dane pulled it back. Offering no respite, he fired it into the middle of the group, almost knocking them over again. She quickly steadied them and replaced her shield.

  “Shield up,” he murmured, snatching the marble up in his hand.

  “I can’t even tell when it’s dropping,” she said, frustrated. “I’m really rubbish at this. I’m going to get you all killed!”

  “I’m not bothered about you shielding everyone else, Lottie. I can do that. Klara and Lukas do that. My concern is your shield on yourself. Yours is stronger than any of ours. We don’t know if it drops out on you, and you must be kept safe. This”—he gestured to the table with a nod of his head—“is more about focus. Concentration.”

  She looked down at the little soldiers, realising that they may as well be her friends for all she could defend them.

  “Can I watch? See if we can pinpoint it?” he asked, requesting access to her mind.

  “If you want.” Taking a steadying breath, she replaced her shield and nodded for him to continue.

  The exercise was repeated; the marble was pushed back and forth as she protected her little army.

  “There,” Dane said, the marble suspended an inch from the table top. “It dropped out. Why?”

  “I checked the shields, then pushed back and…” she paused, thinking about everything she’d done. “I thought about the shield.”

  Dane frowned. “So, it’s fine provided you just leave it alone?”

  She shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t pretend to understand how it works. I just do what you lot tell me to.”

  He clicked his tongue and gave her a look of exasperation. “You make us sound like—”

  “No,” she protested, “I didn’t mean that. I mean, I don’t fully understand it so I take guidance from you. I’ll try not checking and trust it to do as I’ve asked the first time.”

  He nodded, releasing the marble, and they resumed the game.

  He watched closely as she continued the exercise, this time not checking her shields. To test, he fired the little marble with more force than usual, checking her shield for her. The ball ricocheted away from the soldier he’d targeted with so much force, he had to halt its movement.

  “Perfect. See? I knew you’d find the answer if you had the chance to think it through,” he praised, grinning at her.

  “So I just have to…not think?” she asked, unconvinced.

  He shrugged, sending the soldiers back to their castle. “If it works, don’t question it. You don’t need to shield anyone else. Just keep yourself safe. We’ll keep working on it, obviously. But if she shows up before you’ve mastered it, the priority is you, okay?”

  “How do I protect Callan? He can’t shield like you,” she fretted.

  Dane smiled and moved to sit beside her. Twisting to face her, he said, “Stop worrying about us. Callan’s shield can protect him, just as Dagda’s can protect him, and Enya’s protects her. Our job is to keep you safe; not the other way around.”

  She nodded, lacing her fingers through his, and lowering her eyes.

  “I’ll pick you up and we’ll try this out on Tyrin and Izak in the morning. Nothing dangerous, just a football or something. Okay?” He dipped his head, trying to make eye contact. “Come on, Lottie. You’ve got it. It’s just practice. Lots and lots of practice.”

  Meeting his gaze, she gave him a solemn smile and squeezed his hand. “Okay. I’ve got it, and I can do this.”

  “Good girl,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I’m going to go and tell that pair they’re needed in the morning. What time did Callan say he’d be back?”

  “I dunno. He could be another ten minutes or three hours. I’ll go next door and see Ferne.”

  “See you in the morning.” He kissed her cheek before disappearing.

  She frowned,
still looking at the space he’d occupied, before turning and heading for the door.

  Nineteen

  That morning’s session ended with Charlotte feeling much more positive.

  “Not like you to carry a bag,” Tyrin observed as she sat fiddling with a blade of grass.

  “No, I’m meeting Ferne in the city. Dagda suggested we have an afternoon shopping. I’m only going to end up lost though. I’ve only been there twice; both times with Callan there to help with directions. Suppose if all else fails I can ask someone to deliver me to the palace gates.”

  Izak laughed. “It’s built on a grid,” he explained, drawing scorch lines on the grass. “If you get lost, there’s a central street runs directly south from the palace gates, another runs east to west. They meet through the middle, where the jewellers are, and are mirrored throughout the city by smaller streets and alleys. Apothecaries here, restaurants here, boutiques here. You can’t get lost.”

  She studied his little map, nodding. “Well that simplifies it. Thanks! Was your wife okay with your new hair colour?” She smirked, glancing at his still purple hair that she’d allowed to be covered in paint the previous morning.

  Tyrin chuckled. “She wasn’t pleased. Marched him straight to the bathroom when he got home.”

  Izak shot him a look of contempt and grumbled, “She rubbed my head raw trying to get it out. Bloody woman.”

  “It’s almost faded,” she offered.

  “He’s turned up in worse states,” Dane told her. “Remember when you went home covered in tar?”

  Izak laughed at the memory. “She kicked me out and I slept in the barracks for a week!”

  Tyrin looked at her, smiling, and said, “She’s a good lass, Toyah. Just doesn’t take any of his shit.”

  “Takes none of yours either, Ty,” Dane reminded him. “She likes me though.”

  Izak prodded a finger in his direction. “You arrive with flowers every time there’s a chance she’ll be annoyed at you!” he said, laughing. “Creep.”

  “Self-preservation, Izak,” he said with a wink. “Are you ready, Lottie?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for helping,” she said, looking to Tyrin and Izak.

  They nodded and Dane took her hand.

  They arrived outside the small café they’d met at so many months before, and he waved over a waiter before pulling out a chair. When she took the seat, he sat opposite and ordered drinks. Tea for her, coffee for him.

  “Where are you meeting her?” he asked, glancing around.

  “You look nervous, Dane.”

  “I am. If she’s going to go all protective best friend on me, I want to know where she is so I can defend myself.”

  “Give up!” she said, barking a laugh. “She wouldn’t dare.”

  “You reckon?” he muttered as the waiter arrived with their drinks. “Thank you,” he said, taking his coffee.

  Charlotte’s brows rose. “That’s an improvement on the last time we were here,” she observed.

  Dane set down his cup and scowled. “I was stressed that morning. Ally was furious and I’d failed to find a suitable grovelling gift. Plus you were distracting me.”

  “You never grovel to me,” Charlotte grumbled playfully, pouring her tea.

  “You forgive me almost everything,” he quipped, offering her a dazzling smile.

  Narrowing her eyes, she sipped her drink and watched people pass as they sat in comfortable silence, waiting for Ferne and Dagda. Occasionally people would stop and bow, making her feel uncomfortable.

  “You really need to get used to that, you know,” Dane said quietly.

  “I don’t think I ever will,” she admitted, shifting slightly so that her back was turned to the passing shoppers.

  Dane looked past her, raising a hand in greeting as Dagda and Ferne approached. “She looks thrilled to see me,” he observed, speaking through a beaming smile.

  “Knock it off,” she hissed as she turned to smile in greeting.

  He rose from his seat as Ferne drew level with him, and bowed, offering it to her. “Ferne, please excuse me. I have an appointment. Have a good afternoon. Lottie, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He clapped Dagda on the arm and left immediately.

  Looking down on the table, she saw he’d left the money for their drinks under his saucer.

  “What’s up with him?” Ferne asked, placing her bag at her feet. “You told him what I said, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did,” Charlotte said, indignant. “You really upset me.”

  “I’ll be at the palace,” Dagda said brusquely, retreating into the crowd.

  “I didn’t mean to,” Ferne said, looking at her hands. “It just…well, I didn’t know, and you know…”

  “Forget about it. Next time, ask me,” Charlotte reprimanded, picking up her bag. Brushing off her annoyance, she said, “Are you ready? Where shall we go first? Izak gave me a few tips for finding my way around. So if we head straight down here, we’ll find the jewellers, and everything branches off from there.”

  Ferne glanced around and nodded. “Okay. I’ll follow you. Do you have whatever money they use here?”

  “Nope. We stick it on the royal account,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I hate it.”

  She waved the waiter over, indicating the money that Dane had left and smiled her thanks before leaving with Ferne.

  As they walked, people nodded in greeting and Ferne asked several times if she knew them. Eventually, she said, “I don’t think I’ve met any of them in my life. If I have, it’s been at parties, so it was just in passing. They know who I am though. It makes me uncomfortable.”

  When they reached the centre, Charlotte made her way to an ornate fountain and sat on a bench.

  When Ferne joined her, she asked, “Where do you want to go first?”

  Ferne didn’t answer, busy gazing around them at the red tile rooves and whitewashed walls of the buildings in the square. “Umm, I don’t know.”

  “Okay, we’ll window shop until something jumps out,” Charlotte suggested, wandering over to peruse a jeweller’s window display. While she didn’t need jewellery, she smiled to herself, admiring the dazzling items glinting in the brightly lit window. A collection of small gemstones caught her eye. “Wait here. I won’t be a minute.”

  The faerie behind the counter gaped when he recognised her. “Princess. How may I help you?”

  With a forced smile, she said, “In the window, I saw a selection of gemstones on the left-hand side. Are they for sale?”

  “Of course, Princess,” he answered awkwardly, moving to the window to retrieve them.

  He scooped them up and placed them on a black velvet pillow that he placed on the counter for her to inspect.

  “They’re beautiful, thank you,” she remarked, looking them over. “I’d like them all, please.”

  He bowed, taking a silk cloth and began to polish each gem in turn.

  I’ve never seen anyone take so much care.

  She watched him, each careful movement measured and controlled so as not to drop any of the stones. When they were polished, he produced several small velvet bags from beneath his counter and placed each stone in its own bag, tying them with crimson ribbon.

  That task complete, he opened a small, delicately carved wooden box that had been waiting on the counter and lined the bottom with sweet smelling dried petals. As he placed the bags on top, she heard the dry flowers crunch slightly, the sound sending a shiver up her spine. He tied another length of ribbon around the box, and wrapped it in brown paper.

  “Would you like these items added to your account, Princess?” he asked, handing her the parcel.

  “Yes, please. You’ve presented them beautifully. Thank you very much.”

  He bowed, cheeks flushed, and thanked her for her custom.

  Back outside in the bright sunlight, she blinked as she looked for Ferne. Finding her two shops away, she noticed she was admiring more jewellery.

  “I’m ready,” Charlotte said as Ferne spun
around. “What are you looking at?”

  “Nothing,” she said, a sheepish grin on her face.

  Nodding her understanding, but not pressing further, Charlotte said, “Okay, down here is where the boutiques are, down there, cosmetics and apothecaries. Which way?”

  “Boutiques. What’s an apothecary?” Ferne asked, frowning.

  “A cross between the chemist and lush,” Charlotte said with a laugh.

  Ferne was in her element, emerging from the last clothing boutique in the street laden with bags. “This place is amazing! I haven’t seen the same thing twice. Not like our highstreets.”

  “I think everything’s a one off,” Charlotte said, looking down at the two bags and one parcel she’d acquired. “Enya never seems to dress the same two weeks running. Alayna does most of her clothes shopping. I can’t be bothered. Where to now?”

  “Umm… cosmetics?” Ferne suggested with a shrug.

  On their way towards the overpoweringly scented alleys that housed the apothecaries, another little shop caught Charlotte’s eye. The window display showed what appeared to be albums and scrapbooks decorated with delicate flowers and lace. With Ferne waiting by the door, she ducked inside the cluttered shop, running her fingertips over the pretty items crowded onto shelves and tables. In the far corner, a young faerie woman was working at a desk and she said, “Please take your time and browse. If there is anything I can help you with, just ask.” She hadn’t looked up from her work, so Charlotte continued to scan the shelves.

  Trinket boxes, books, diaries, and dozens of other hand decorated items adorned the crowded surfaces, but Charlotte wasn’t interested in any of them. She approached the desk, clearing her throat. “I’m sorry to disturb you. The book in the window, with the butterflies and flowers, could I have that please?”

  The young woman gawked, taking in Charlotte’s short stature and rounded ears, and spluttered, “Of course, Princess. Please forgive me, I—”

  Smiling, she said, “Honestly, it’s okay. You’re busy. Is it okay if I reach into the window for the book?”

  The woman dashed towards the window, grasping the book, and made her way back to the desk, pushing items out of the way. She instantly began cutting lengths of pink, pearlescent paper and white ribbon, wrapping the book beautifully.