Shadowborn

by Joseph DeVeau

  “Sorry, my Lady,” said the sellsword on the right, whose hand clamped onto Aeryn’s other arm. He addressed Lady Mareen, who stood behind her pair of personal guards. Faces stern and expressionless, their backs rod-straight, they looked like brick walls.

  The sellsword swept an awkward bow. His eyes twitched nervously. “This street rat won’t bother you again. Come on,” he said to his comrades, obviously thankful for the opportunity to tear his eyes from Lady Mareen’s before she could tear him down for the interruption to her shopping, “let’s get the girl out of here.”

  By how fast Aeryn was swung around, other sellswords were eager to put distance between themselves and the gathered nobles.

  “Stop,” commanded Lady Mareen.

  The sellswords froze. Casting a glance at one another, they turned ever so slowly. In the eerie calm, grunted curses and cries of retribution filtered through the market. Aeryn recognized them as Jins and his gang.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Lady Mareen asked.

  “We’re taking the girl—“

  “Nowhere,” Mareen cut in. Hands on her hips, the darkened glower she wore could have stopped a thunderstorm in its tracks. “Let her go.”

  “But, my Lady, with all the Shadows that have been spotted—“

  “Do I need to repeat myself?” Lady Mareen asked.

  Aeryn suddenly found herself wishing the sellswords would take her away. If Lady Mareen’s expression was any indicator, she would rather take her chances with the sellswords.

  “But, my Lady, the Shadows—“

  “Does this girl look like a Shadow?”

  “Well, no,” the sellswords said in unison. It came out sheepishly.

  “But she did break into the market with the intent to cause havoc. She ran into you and soiled your dress,” said the one on the left. “We’re just doing what the nobles hired us to do.”

  “I’m a Lady, right?” Mareen asked. “A noble, if you will?”

  The sellswords looked at each other, knowing they had just mired into a trap. “Well, yes. . .”

  “Then that means I hired you, doesn’t it? Now run along and see to your companions; it sounds like they could use your help.”

  “Yes, my Lady.” Dropping hasty bows and obviously wanting nothing more than to get away from the Lady as fast as possible, the sellswords released Aeryn and dashed away.

  Mareen turned her glare on her audience. “Don’t you have anything better to do then stand around and gawk like a bunch of nosy children?”

  A few muttered comments directed Mareen’s way and the crowd began to disperse. The woman seemed to have a gift for ruffling feathers of everyone from street urchins to Lords and Ladies themselves.

  “As for you two,” Mareen said to her personal guards, “stand aside.”

  The guards practically flew out of the way. They busied themselves by seeing to the lingering remnant of the crowd.

  Like butter in the hot sun, Mareen’s face melted and softened. In a moment, it had transformed into a wide smile. “You look like you could use some food. Are you hungry?”

  Aeryn groaned. There could only be one reason for Mareen’s intervention and subsequent smile: the woman owned Aeryn and she knew it.

  “Is that a yes or a no, dear?” Mareen asked.

  Aeryn quickly weighed her options, wondering if she should risk making another run for it or stay put. If she stayed put, it would be akin to agreeing to do whatever Mareen asked of her. Based on her prior encounters with the woman, Mareen had an inventive mind. On the other hand, if she ran, it would be worse than slapping Mareen in the face in front of her peers. Nobody liked to be snubbed in public, especially a Lady. Whatever Mareen would conjure up then would surely make a quick death pale in comparison.

  She had no recourse but to stay. “Yes, I’m hungry,” Aeryn said with a nod. At least that was the God’s honest truth; she was famished.

  “Wonderful! Why I know this perfect little place just around the corner. . .” Lady Mareen droned on, talking of chocolates, glazings, and all things sweet as she led Aeryn to a nearby pastry shop.

  Aeryn wondered if she had indeed made the correct choice. After all, Mareen had so effortlessly made Aeryn into a street whore with a single comment. With the woman being so nice now, there had to be something horribly sinister brewing beneath the surface. The problem was that Aeryn did not have a clue what it could be. She only knew she would not like it one bit. Perhaps she should have taken her chances with the sellswords. She sighed. It was too late for that now.

  9

  A Change in Scenery

  I think your hair would look absolutely stunning if you let it down and ironed it,” Lady Mareen said. She reached out as if to fluff it but stopped short, masking the motion by waving her hand toward something in the distance only she could see. “Of course it’ll need a good brushing first. Good thing I know just the place. Come along, now.” The woman bustled away. Apparently the Lady could walk after all. A convoy followed: two guards, three porters laden with goods, a pair of horses pulling a carriage and driver, and a gaggle of handmaidens. “Prellia is the best hairdresser in the city. Why at the last anniversary gala, she. . .”

  Aeryn felt her eyes glaze over. She had been listening to Lady Mareen drone on for hours now. Each time she had thought the end near, something else caught the woman’s eye and started it back up again. From imported rugs and spices to lacquered dining sets, gilded candelabras, and mirrors as tall and wide as a person, the Lady spent coin like it was water. Though Mareen haggled as fierce as any street corner peddler, it was clearly because she enjoyed it, not because of any lack of coin. And books. Never would Aeryn have imagined entire stores devoted to the things.

  After sitting down for a meal of pastries, cakes, and various trays of sweets—it was no wonder the woman was so large—the first order of business had been to visit a bathhouse. A visit to a seamstress and tailor had come next. Unfortunately, Aeryn had been so preoccupied on fishing out any Mareen’s eventual repayment that she found herself clad in wool so fine she could not pick out the individual threads. She would be able to Drift in it, but only barely.

  Thankfully, she had the presence of mind to turn down silk gowns and dresses. As a result, she had ended up wearing snug, nearly-black breeches with a loose, frilly white blouse overtop that hung to her knees. Supple leather boots and a pair of matching gloves now tucked into her belt besides the dagger that had caused no few number of alarmed gasps when she had insisted on keeping it, had completed the outfit.

  “There, isn’t that better?” Lady Mareen asked as they stepped out onto the streets from the latest shop. She positively beamed as she took in Aeryn from head to toe. “I was right, you clean up quite nicely.”

  Hair straightened and perfumed, falling inches shy of her shoulder, all Aeryn needed to complete her pompous look was ten pounds of flashy necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. Ironing hair! Whoever thought of such an atrocity deserved a knife through their heart. Aeryn felt sick. Everything she wore, right down to the sheen of her freshly washed skin, was a testament to the fact that Mareen now owned her.

  “Where should we go next?” Mareen asked. “How about—“

  “I need to go,” Aeryn said. It was rude to interrupt a Lady, doubly so after one had just spent a small fortune of silver and gold on you, but she had to escape.

  Lady Mareen’s face drooped. “Go? Where?”

  Aeryn quickly continued; it would do no good if she left the woman brooding over a sour parting. “Merek will be waiting on me. I enjoyed out time together, but there are things I must—” she searched her mind for how a Lady would phrase it, “see too. I do so look forward to seeing you again.” About as much as a chicken looks forward to the butcher’s knife, Aeryn added silently.

  “Yes, I do suppose you are right.” Bloody fish guts the woman was good. Lady Mareen actually looked forlorn.

  “Thank you again for everything. Until next time, then.” Aeryn turned and t
ook a step away. She broke out into a smile that split her face in two. Could this actually be working?

  “Aeryn, wait.”

  Aeryn froze at the flabby hand on her shoulder. Schooling her smile, she peered back. Here it comes, she thought. “Yes?”

  “I have simply taken leave of my senses and manners. I can at least give you a ride to Merek’s. After all, I wouldn’t want you to ruin your new clothes.”

  “No, it’s ok, really,” Aeryn protested. “I enjoy walking.”

  “No, I’m afraid I must insist. What kind of a woman would I be if I didn’t? And after all, I couldn’t bear the thought of you running into those hooligans that were chasing you earlier,” Mareen said.

  Bloody rat’s milk! Caught up in Mareen’s hidden schemes, Aeryn had forgotten all about Jins and his gang. Word had spread around the market hours ago that they had escaped by overpowering the guards just as reinforcements had arrived.

  Jins, Brys and Hal or Lady Mareen? Aeryn chose the one less likely to leave her dead in an alley. “I guess that could work,” Aeryn said, trapped once more.

  “Splendid! I was intending to have a word with Merek before he left anyway. This will work perfectly.” That affected smile was back on Lady Mareen’s face. “It’s like the world wanted us to find each other. Now come along. I’ll have you there in no time.”

  Aeryn exhaled loud enough to turn the heads of passerby’s. Once again, she had been caught in a trap of her own making. The only consolation was that the moment the carriage pulled up to Merek’s estate, Mareen vanished inside with a quickness that belittled her size, leaving Aeryn all by herself.

  Lady Alys stormed out just as Aeryn reached the front door. Her face was set in a tight lipped, pursed-eyed scowl.

  “You,” Alys said. Her voice was ice. “What did you say to him?”

  “What? Who?” Aeryn stammered, at a loss for words.

  “Don’t play stupid with me. Did you know Merek was leaving?”

  “Yes. I just found out—“

  “You did!” It was clearly an accusation. Alys’ eyes lost their innocence and gained a predatory gleam. “Look at you; you obviously told him something, else he would not have done this.”

  “No, I swear,” Aeryn said. Too late, she realized she had promised Alys she would put in a good word with Merek for her. “I’m sorry; I completely forgot. I’ve had kind of a lot going on lately. I’ll go tell Merek he can’t leave,” not that Aeryn knew where he was going, “until after he dines with you.”

  “We already dined together.”

  “That’s great. How did it go? Don’t worry; I’ll still put in a good word for you.”

  “Don’t bother. You’ve said quite enough already.”

  “Girl,” came a shout from the far end of the hall. Aeryn turned her head to see Reeve standing with his hands on his hips. “Merek wants to see you.”

  “I’ll set everything right, Lady Alys,” Aeryn said, turning her head back. Alys was gone; it was as if she had vanished into thin air. Bloody hell! Was everybody in a mood today or was her luck just that bad? First Jins and his gang, then Mareen, and now Alys? Who next? Lord Merek? Nameless himself?

  “Now, girl,” Reeve said. His foot tapped against the marble tiles and echoed down the hall. “Just because you don’t look like a wet rat anymore doesn’t mean you can make Lord Merek wait on you.”

  Well at least one person hasn’t changed, Aeryn thought as she followed Reeve. He led her to the same study where she had confronted Merek shortly after her and Will’s botched attempt to steal from him. Mareen bustled out just as they arrived, staring straight ahead, not so much as sparing a glance at Aeryn. Ushered inside, Reeve deposited Aeryn before Merek, who sat in a cushy velvet armchair, studiously reading a letter in his hand.

  “The girl is here for you, my lord,” Reeve announced with a bow.

  Merek waved. Reeve bowed again, turned and left. Standing alone, Aeryn waited for Merek to speak. She was not about to dig herself deeper by speaking first. A minute passed. Ten. Fidgeting, Aeryn plopped unceremoniously in an open chair. Half an hour later, each second of which felt like a silent accusation, and she had had enough.

  “You have no right to judge me,” Aeryn said. “You sit here in your cozy study, surrounded by servants that wait on you hand and foot and guards that see to your protection. You have no idea what it’s like living on the streets.”

  That got Merek’s attention. He slowly set down the page and looked up. His eyes swept over her as if examining a piece of meat hanging in a butcher’s shop.

  “I can explain,” Aeryn added hastily. Just because she had survived a harsh life on the streets did not mean she was immune to being hurt or killed by a Lord. In fact, the truth was precisely the opposite; whereas the motives of a street thug were clear as a fresh puddle of spring rain, the thoughts that swirled inside a Lord’s head were murkier than a pool of mud stirred up by a gale blowing off the sea. “I had no choice. You see, there are these boys, led by this brute named Jins, who have been hounding me—“

  “No matter,” Merek said, interrupting. “We’re leaving.”

  No matter? How was Jins and his gang extorting and trying to kill her “no matter?” Aeryn decided she was not going to make the same mistake she had made with Mareen and muddle along blindly. She was going to find out what she had gotten herself into.

  “No. I’m not going to let you hold this over me.” A thought occurred. “As a matter of fact, this all started because of you. If you hadn’t taken away my clothes the last time we met, dressed me up, and hid gold in my purse, I wouldn’t have to worry about Jins and his gang at all.” That was not entirely true, as Jins and his gang had started pressing Aeryn weeks before that particular incident, but Merek did not know that. It was time she had some ammunition in her quiver.

  “First of all, I didn’t take your clothes or dress you,” Merek said. “Secondly, if you hadn’t flaunted the coin I gave you, you wouldn’t have drawn this ‘Jins’’ attention. And finally—“

  “I did not flaunt—“

  “And finally,” Merek continued sternly, “perhaps you didn’t hear me say that it is of no matter. You did what you had to in order to survive. It’s as simple as that. Now if you’re done whining, we’re leaving. Since I assume you don’t have anything to pack, I took the liberty of having a few things packed for you.”

  “Why would I go anywhere with you? My home is here, in Maerilin, with Jynx.” Jynx! How could she have forgotten? The draven was probably out looking for her right now.

  “That is your choice.” Merek rose from the armchair. “Reeve,” he barked toward the door, then turned back toward Aeryn. “I guess I figured that after the little incident in the markets this morning, and all the talk of Shadows roaming the city causing havoc,” Merek narrowed his eyes at her for a fraction of a second, just long enough for Aeryn to catch, but short enough that she could almost imagine it was but a figment of her imagination, “you would be glad for a chance to get away.”

  Reeve strode in through the door the very instant Aeryn opened her mouth and screamed in frustration. The only thing left was to find out that Rickon, the pious stableboy, had gone to the Voices and had them send Shades after her.

  “I take that as a ‘Yes, Lord Merek, I’m going with?’” Merek asked.

  Aeryn glared at him. “I’m not going without Jynx. Period. End of story. In fact, I’m not stepping so much as a single foot outside Maerilin without him. If that’s a bloody problem, then you can just go bloody hang yourself and all your flaming plans with it.”

  “I’d have it no other way. Reeve?”

  Aeryn cursed in frustration. How did these blasted nobles always throw her off balance so easily?

  “Yes, my lord?” Reeve asked, shooting Aeryn an indignant glare at her choice of curses.

  “Assign a driver to Aeryn,” Merek said, addressing the chamberlain. “Tell him to take her anywhere she wishes without questions. When she has found what she’s look
ing for, have him meet us at the crossroads north and east of the city. When you’re done with that, send for Lord Cedric. There are a few items I wish to go over with him before we depart.”

  Reeve frowned so hard he looked like an overripe pumpkin sagging in the spring heat. “Yes, my lord,” he said between clenched teeth. He pivoted and marched past Aeryn, obviously expecting her to follow.

  “Oh, and Reeve?”

  The chamberlain paused and looked back.

  “Have the driver take one of the older carriages. There may be a draven riding in it.”

  “A what?”

  Merek lifted an eyebrow.

  “Yes, my lord. It will be as you say.”

  “Good.”

  As soon as the door shut behind them, Reeve displayed his dissatisfaction by stomping loudly through the halls, pointedly refusing to talk to Aeryn. In fact, he did not so much as look at her. He led her to a storeroom, inside which sat a ratty carriage whose better days were far, far behind it. At least the horse did not complain as the driver hitched it up and walked it outside. That would be the icing on the cake; stuck in a runaway carriage while it careened about Maerilin’s streets.

  Aeryn found herself sitting inside for much too long as she directed the driver to all the wrong places, in all the wrong order. Never before had she needed to know which streets made for slow going, which alleys were wide enough for a carriage, or which sections of the city were missing so many cobblestones that her backside went numb within five feet. With the curtains drawn to hide her face from prying eyes, the interior was sweltering. Jins seeing her in a carriage dressed as she was would be as bad as a Shade or Voice seeing her Drift. The only upside was that a stiff breeze off the sea blew away the smell of mothballs and rat droppings before they had reached the Lord’s Gate.

  A sharp whistle from Aeryn as they rolled up to her tumbled-down shack set at the back of the abandoned house frequented by Shadows finally brought Jynx out into view.