Shades of Truth (The Summerlynn Secrets)

by C. L. Stockton

  Right. I suppose I should pick up the piece of paper and see what it said. Strangely, I was reluctant to do so. What if it was a signed confession note from my father? What happened then?

  Nothing was being solved the longer I stood staring at the paper. In one swift movement, I bent and opened the sheet of paper.

  It was a map, but of no place I’d seen before. At the top, it read All the answers lie below. Apparently someone had a sense of humor. My eyes found the circled x on the map. It certainly didn’t look as though it held any answers, though it was cradled between what looked like two mountain peaks.

  The rest of the map was comprised of forest (all Goran was heavily forested, so that didn’t help), mountains, villages and yes, a stream every now and then. There wasn’t a single defining characteristic. That place could be anywhere, not only in the country, but the world.

  Resisting the urge to crumple the paper up, I instead turned it upside down to see if that angle improved the view. Nothing. No matter which way I turned it, it didn’t look familiar. I’d never been a big fan of geography. My governess had been right in saying one day I would be sorry I hadn’t bothered to learn the counties of Goran. I even regretted my eye roll when she’d said it.

  My thoughts were interrupted by the door opening once again. Quickly, I shoved the piece of paper up my sleeve, relegating the book to the front of my shirt. When I turned back to the door, it was to find yet another strange man regarding me. He beckoned. Cautious, I came closer. His appearance was scruffy and his face carefully blank. Did he mean to take me out back and murder me?

  Silently, he retreated, leaving the door open. After hastily rearranging the book that had slipped to my waist, I walked forward. Did I dare escape? The staircase was to the right, and the end of the hall to my left. If I could surprise the man by rushing past him and down the stairs, I might be able to reach the door.

  But, once there, what would I do? Where would I go? I wouldn’t get very far on foot, which meant I’d have to find a horse, but where was the stable? Where was I? What direction should I go? And what about Colton? Could I just leave him?

  All that could be decided later. Escape was not to be passed up. If this was my only opportunity, I was going to take it.

  I followed quickly, only to see the man standing at the head of the staircase, arms crossed. My thoughts of freedom vanished completely. He was bigger than I remembered. Perhaps I should meekly find out where we were going before making a break for freedom.

  He led me down the staircase and toward the back of the house on the first floor. Ah, the retiring room. I would have hugged him, but I didn’t think he’d appreciate it. I used the chamber pot, washed up, and took a minute to straighten my clothing. How I longed for a bath.

  My friend stood waiting in the hall. Though he was big, I didn’t think he was quick. If I timed it right, when we passed the front door, I might be able to dart past him and to freedom. So I gave every appearance of being an obedient, docile prisoner…

  Until we passed the door on the way up the stairs. I waited until his foot landed on the bottom step before turning and making a break for the door. My hand barely touched the doorknob when I was grabbed around the waist and hefted over a shoulder. The book pressed hard into my stomach. Not one to take this treatment without retaliation, I began pounding his back and kicking my feet.

  During our struggle, we were wordless. I’d never been a screamer. Not that it would have helped. For all I knew, I was in a deserted area with nobody around for miles, surrounded by people uninterested in my fate.

  The journey back to the empty room was conducted quickly. It seemed the man holding me couldn’t wait to be rid of me. He opened the door, deposited me rather harshly onto my feet, and scrambled back to the hallway. The lock turned before I could do anything other than watch it close.

  At least I’d attempted escape. I felt less like a passive prisoner calmly accepting my fate. I hadn’t received a beating or any other punishment beside confinement in an empty room. But, since I was already here, I may as well do something to deserve it.

  The hours crawled by. I paced, sat, counted the wooden slabs across the ceiling (32), read the entire history book, examined my nails, looked at the map until my eyes hurt, and took to throwing the blankets around the room. Why? Because I could. It was either that or fling myself screaming at the door.

  I was released again for a visit to the retiring room. After that, I was brought back to the empty room where a tray of food awaited. Left alone again afterward, I began to long for Colton, even if he was going to be sullen and angry with me.

  Though he really shouldn’t be. I hadn’t done anything wrong. So what if I had a pendant? If he’d confided in me from the beginning, perhaps I would fully understand its meaning and would’ve handed it over without complaint. But no, Colton preferred to believe I was part of some plan to trick and manipulate him.

  That stung. Which started me thinking why it hurt so much, which led me to the startling realization I was falling in love with Lucas Colton. Fabulous. Next, I would begin poking myself with sharp objects, since my judgment was apparently impaired.

  I didn’t even know his name! Oh, he might go by Lucas Colton while on his missions or whatever it is he did, but it wasn’t his real name. Using a pseudonym actually made a bizarre sort of sense since being the son of a powerful man would make using his true name very hard.

  Not that it was excusable to lie repeatedly about one’s name. No. He would get no help rationalizing his decision to lie.

  When he did return that evening, I instantly knew the meeting had not gone well. His shoulders were tensely held and he did not offer a greeting. Of course, that might be deliberate, judging from our last conversation, but I decided not to let that bother me.

  I watched as he turned his head away from me and walked toward the blankets. Separating a few, he went to sit against the far wall. All along, he kept his eyes on the ground so I knew he was intentionally ignoring me.

  Fine. If he wanted to be childish, I would return the favor. “It is lovely to see you as well. How was your day?”

  Silence.

  “Thank you for asking. I had a wonderful day. No one glowered at me, accused me of lying, or even mentioned my father. It was heavenly.” I walked back to the pile of blankets and seated myself against the wall so I was more or less facing Colton. The silence stretched for a minute, maybe longer. “Rough day?”

  With a groan, Colton put his head in his hands. “Nothing has gone as planned, starting from the moment I saw your pendant this morning.”

  “My father’s pendant,” I corrected.

  His mouth tightened. “I am sorry to report, sweetheart, but the line between you and your father has blurred.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Those men believe you are working for your father. My presence has only tempered their opinion a bit. They think I should leave you here and let them deal with you.”

  I couldn’t tell his opinion on the matter from the emotionless tone of voice. “And you said?”

  “No. I made a promise.” For the first time since he entered the room, he raised his eyes to mine. The dark blue depths contained regret and yes, anger.

  Anger at what? Being stuck with me? Well, I wasn’t exactly happy about that either. “Maybe you should leave me since you so obviously wish to be free of me.” I fisted the blanket beside me.

  “It’s not so much wanting to be rid of you as wanting to be finished with the lying.” He rubbed his beard, a dry, scratching noise filling the room.

  “If anyone is lying, it is you.”

  “Name one instance I have told you a lie.”

  “Your name.”

  He arched an eyebrow at me. “My name is real.”

  “But it’s not yours.”

  “And you say this because?”

  “Because it takes you a tad too long to respond when I call it.”

  “That is because you choose to call me by my surna
me and not my first name.”

  “I imagine you gave a fake name so I wouldn’t recognize who you are.” I shrugged. “If I told you I didn’t care who you are, would you tell me your real name?”

  “While it’s flattering you think I am rather important, I’m not.” He rotated his shoulders.

  I rolled my eyes. “Now who’s lying?”

  “Perhaps I should hand you over. They would get the truth out of you.”

  “Who are they?”

  “A concerned party.” I noticed how he refrained from naming the men he had met with.

  “Why are we here?”

  “It seems your inquiry at Lisbon did not go unnoticed.”

  “Then why are they meeting with you and not me?”

  “I have more to negotiate with than you do. Or at least than they think you do.” His gaze dropped to where the pendant rested beneath my shirt.

  “You told them about the pendant?” I looked at him, aghast he would betray my trust so easily.

  “I didn't have to.” He paused, drawing out the tension. “Your friend from Lisbon has told them everything, especially your refusal to hand it over against your father's wishes.” I swallowed hard, drawing his attention. “Have you told anyone about it?”

  “Only Sabean.”

  "Of course you told Sabean." Colton banged his head against the wall. “I have spent the entire day categorically denying you have any involvement with your father only to find you’ve confided God knows what to Sabean!”

  “I don't see what she has to do with anything.”

  “Only everything.”

  “Do stop being so melodramatic. You said yourself everything would be fine.”

  "That's before you turned up with the pendant." He closed his eyes. “They will take me for a besotted fool not to have noticed something so obvious.”

  “It’s not obvious.” I looked down, not seeing anything different in the fold of the fabric over my chest.

  “It should be to a man who’s spent the last few days in close proximity to you. Though this does give credence to my denial we are lovers.”

  A strange rushing filled my ears and images of tangled sheets and candlelight sprang to mind. “They think we're lovers?”

  “What else were they to think having captured us sleeping on the same blanket, arms wrapped around each other?” The corner of his mouth curled upward. “At least I can take comfort that no hint of this will reach my father.”

  I forced myself to look past my indignation at being dismissed so easily as a romantic partner to focus on what he’d just revealed. Colton was confident nothing that happened here would reach his father, meaning they were not working with these people and did not have regular conversations. And, since my father was opposed to Colton and his book was here, that must mean these people were Tallons.

  Right?

  But why would they want to kill me? Had my father betrayed them? Colton had said he wasn’t necessarily working against my father so much as he didn’t share the same viewpoint. So if these were the Tallons, why was I so afraid of them? Surely they wouldn’t harm the daughter of one of their colleagues?

  Perhaps I should stick close to Colton. For all his faults, he hadn’t tried to murder me. Yet.

  “Any more questions?”

  “Will you answer more?”

  “No.”

  “Then why bother?”

  “I enjoy hearing your fevered imaginings.”

  Deciding throwing myself across the room and choking him probably wouldn’t help matters, I consoled myself with sticking my tongue out at him. He wasn’t looking anyway. “How much longer will you be in meetings?”

  “Not much longer.” He looked up, meeting my eyes in the semi darkness. “Bored?”

  “There are only so many things one can do in an empty room by one’s self.”

  “Yes.” He agreed. “Empty rooms are much better with company.” He looked around the room, noticing the empty tray by the door.

  “Have you eaten?” I was suddenly concerned. I shouldn’t be, given his bad attitude, but a tiny twinge of sympathy curved the shape of my heart.

  “Why? Were you going to offer your leftovers?”

  “If you can find any, they’re yours.” When he didn’t move toward the tray, I asked, “Do you really mean to stay?”

  “This isn’t my first choice of accommodations, but yes, I am staying. As I mentioned before, you are free to go.”

  I looked at the solid wood door holding me here. “Right. Because the door is unlocked.”

  “Details,” he murmured, his gaze falling to examine his hands. He looked tired. Well, he’d been exhausted nearly the entire time I’d known him, so I didn’t have anything to compare him to, but even I recognized fatigue in the dark bruises beneath his eyes and the little nods his head made when he wasn’t learning it against the wall.

  Abruptly I tired of questioning him. Knowing he would be loath to sleep when I was awake, if only to ensure I didn’t murder him, I lay down, pulling the blankets over me. A moment later, I heard the slow slide and rustle of blankets across the room. We didn’t exchange further words that night.

  Morning came along with a summons to yet another meeting. The knock awakened me, but I remained on my side facing the wall, so I didn’t know who Colton left with. Hopefully, sleep had sweetened Colton’s mood.

  The hours passed. I alternated between attempting to sleep and examining the map, which was giving me a headache. There are only so many ways a map can be seen. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to get breakfast when the door opened again. I was momentarily distracted from attempting to kick a blanket as hard as I could. Seeing it was the man from before, I resumed my actions. Obviously I wasn’t happy to see him.

  My opinion fell further when I saw what he had in his hands. A black cloth folded over on itself, the two ends dangling from his hand. A length of rope filled his other palm. I backed toward the wall as he advanced on me. Suddenly I was very conscious of how big he was and how small I was.

  “The only way out of this room involves a blindfold and rope.” His voice was very deep and had an accent from southern Goran.

  I considered. I could stay in this room and be bored to death, or I could take a chance at getting as far away as possible, albeit with ropes and a blindfold.

  “And here I thought we were friends,” I quipped.

  “Perhaps sometime in the future.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He held up the items in his hand.

  I walked toward him, hands held in front of me to be bound. “Do not think this means I have given up.”

  The rope was abrasive against my skin. “Of course not.” The last sight I had before the blindfold raised was of a man completely absorbed in his task.

  Without much choice, I slowly walked behind my captor. I was unsteady as a newborn calf with the blindfold around my eyes. The man kept a tight grip on my bound hands, and helpfully called out, “Step” when descending the staircase.

  The feel of fresh air on my face was a relief. Perhaps I would be released. But where was here? And why the need for the blindfold? I would have happily promised to stay far away from this place in the future if asked.

  As I shuffled along in the dirt, I strained my ears for any sounds. Ahead, I heard the jingle of bits and the creak of saddles, so obviously we were going somewhere. I felt more than heard Colton. There was something different in the air when he was near.

  “Blindfolds are hardly necessary.” His voice reassured me. He sounded relaxed and even a little amused.

  “I cannot have either of you carrying tales.” Treeman (I really should learn his name but calling him Treeman was quite amusing) chuckled.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” A pause. “I assume Miss Summerlynn is unharmed?”

  Treeman answered before I could. “Of course. We would never harm someone so close to your heart.”

  “You already have.” By this time, we reached him. “Cadrian, are you well?�
� The words were clear and precise, meant to carry. Since I was standing within a few feet, his voice was unnaturally loud.

  “I’d be better if I could see.” Since I couldn’t see, I stepped on someone’s foot. Probably Colton’s, if I judged correctly from the sound of his voice.

  “As would I, sweetheart.” He raised his voice. “Now that we are all here, I would like to be sent on our way.”

  “And you will be. We will escort you part of the way.” Around us, I heard the sounds of men mounting. I couldn’t tell if it was only a few or the entire company.

  Someone, I didn’t know whom, put his arms around my waist and lifted me until my foot fit the stirrup. Using my bound hands for balance, I swung my other leg over. I didn’t have time to admire my accomplishment for long as Colton mounted behind me. His bound hands stabbed me awkwardly in the back.

  Treeman must have seen our predicament because he said, “Untie him.”

  What about me? I waited for my hands to be released as well, but even after Colton’s arms slid around my waist, my hands remained tied. Hmmm. I did not like this.

  So began our seemingly interminable ride. It wasn’t long before I fell back into our familiar riding position, resting my head against his collarbone, our legs sliding companionably against each other.

  With my eyes covered, I became aware how noisy the forest was. Birds chirped, squirrels barked, and leaves rubbed in the slight breeze. On top of that the hoof beats of the horses, the occasional whinny, and comments from the men made for a very loud procession. How had they managed to sneak up on us in the first place?

  Slowly, time passed. We could have been riding for minutes or hours when we stopped. I instantly sat up, unsure of what was happening.

  “You may remove your blindfolds.” The voice came from somewhere in front of us. My hands still bound, I was forced to wait for assistance that took its time coming. Colton felt the need to talk before freeing me. “Remember what I’ve said.”

  “And you do the same.” He blew out a breath. “Until next time.”

  “I look forward to it.” I heard the steady clip clop of hooves and knew the men were leaving, which meant there was absolutely no reason for me to remain blindfolded.