by Tara Brown
Lenny felt sorry for her. A whole day spent with their mother and aunts was not her idea of a good time.
The ship’s crew threw down the anchor as the longboat was rowed out to them from the docks.
Lord Ivor came and stood next to Lenny. “Good morning, Miss Ilenia. Did you by chance tell your mother of my intention to court you?” he asked quietly.
“No.” She scoffed.
“Shall I tell her?” He lifted a dark eyebrow, questioning her with his stare.
“I would like to remain a disappointment until we reach Waterly City. I can’t imagine being stuck on a boat with her as she gushes about me not being a total loss. She just became accustomed to the notion I would die a spinster.”
“How very you that response is.” He chuckled, losing the stern demeanor.
She glanced up at him, sighing. She would never understand how the gods had seen fit to offer her this as a match. He was noble, tall, rich, handsome, strong, kind, skilled at fighting, and well connected. He matched all the things her mother wanted in a son-in-law. For Lenny, it was his adoration of her being nothing but a filthy dock rat that pleased her the most. He hadn’t batted a single eyelash at her clothing. She wasn’t sure he noticed it. He stared at her face, smiling back with admiration that suggested they were equals in all things. And for the first time, she felt the same for him. She allowed herself to feel it, taking down all the icy walls she had built around her fearful heart.
Scar nudged her way in between Lenny and the lord. She raised her head to see over the railing to the town below.
“You and Ollie have to stay aboard.” Lenny rubbed the hound.
“If only Wetwood’s harbor could accommodate our ship,” Lord Ivor lamented.
“I feel terrible going ashore without them. They’ll be miserable.” Lenny lifted Scar’s face. “You have to stay calm and be good so you don’t get Ollie up and panicking.”
Scar panted, her eyes darting to the longboat as it stopped next to the great ship.
Lord Ivor turned to one of his guards. “Roderick, you will remain on board and care for the hounds as though they are your children.” He paused. “No, as though they are the children of a lady you wish to bed.”
“Yes, Ivor.” The man didn’t call him lord but he nodded deeply, respectfully. His eyes darted to Lenny. “I’m proud to care for your dogs, milady.”
“Thank you, Roderick.” She nodded at him deeply as well.
The waves were calm and the ladder sturdy, but Lenny wondered about the dresses and how ladylike it would be to leave the boat with the breeze fanning about your underclothes.
“All right,” the captain said, clapping his hands together as he strolled over to them. “Why don’t you go first, my boy? Help your aunt when she gets to the last couple of steps. We don’t want any of those brigands touching the royal bottom,” he joked and pointed at Lenny.
“Yes, Captain.” She kissed Scar and hurried to the ladder, grinning when she saw her friends and family’s faces. She didn’t know who was more upset, her mother or Lord Ivor. But being a boy to strangers had never been a problem to Lenny. Oftentimes it helped. She hopped over the side, clambering down quickly. She landed in the longboat with a thud, smiling at the men at the oars. “Good day.”
There were ten of them, five a side. They gave her a strange look but offered a twitch of acknowledgment.
A guard came down next, moving to the side so when Elsie climbed down, with her dress rippling in the soft breeze, Lenny could be the one to help her to a seat.
She repeated this with Mildred and the princesses who gripped her fingers with sweaty, trembling hands while giving her a smug sneer as if to say they didn't need her help.
Hilde made it down on her own, visibly stronger and more capable than the others.
And Lord Ivor was next, smiling when Lenny extended a hand to him. “Thank you, but I have my reputation to think of. A grown man needing to be assisted by a boy is generally frowned upon.”
“Yes, milord.” Lenny laughed, offering him a bow, and took her seat as he assisted the queen and her enormous dress. The ladder shook as she came down, but by the determined expression on her face, you wouldn't have fathomed how scared she truly was.
She took a seat next to Lenny as the remaining guards climbed down and the men began to row.
“Your dark mark is gone quite quickly?” Queen Saleen observed in an inquiring tone as she took Lenny’s hand in hers, turning her finger over. “You did magic again, only this time it was light magic.” She kept her tone low enough that the others on the boat wouldn't hear. “What was it?”
“I put a dome of light and protection around Blockley, sealing them in and darkness out.”
“Smart girl,” Queen Saleen gushed, squeezing her hand.
“How do you know so much about magic, Aunty Saleen?” Lenny asked, using the title she wished to be called.
“I’ve spent a lot of years reading, my dear. The castle library is overflowing with books on lore and magic and the ancients. It’s why I insisted you come with us. You must meet with the Brothers of the Silent Ministry, one in particular. Brother Estevan, he is brilliant and educated on the ancient lore of the Great War.” She smiled wide. “And he speaks, which I find helpful.”
“How did you know Lorna Knightly?”
The queen flinched at the name, but the reaction was over quicker than it happened. “She grew up in the courts as a girl. As a lady. A friend.” Her voice lowered, “A fraud. She tricked everyone. I had heard she’d died. Oddly, she was living under your mother’s nose all this time, and she didn’t know it.” She didn’t say anything else, leaving Lenny to think it might be an unwelcomed discussion.
“Why was I able to shoot the lightning?” Lenny asked, changing the subject.
“You must be a natural witch, born of a bloodline from the ancients. I suspect your gran’s family. The people from Crail are known for it.”
“Natural witch?” Lenny asked.
“It’s the only way. You must already have the spark inside you, though it’s odd your magic has been missed up to this point. Eighteen years and your mother never noticed? Apparently, she missed a lot.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, “Unless you came upon a magical object which ignited the spark inside you. Has anything happened that is out of the ordinary?”
Lenny lifted an eyebrow and stared at the queen.
“Of course,” she said with a chuckle. “I mean besides the events that have taken place, have you seen an object such as that, obviously magical?”
Lenny hesitated but her curiosity won out over her worry. “A gemstone.” She turned over her other hand, showing the marks that had been burned into her skin. They appeared old and silvery, as did scars that had healed years before.
Queen Saleen ran her fingers over the faded lines forming a perfect emerald cut stone. It was larger than anything the queen had seen, even on the ancient armor pieces in the war memorial. “How did this happen?” she asked softly, still tracing the lines.
“I touched a stone I found in the sea,” Lenny offered. “It was blue, richly colored like a royal gemstone. But massive. The size of my hand. I could barely grip it. It seared me, twice. The first time it showed me where Wilfred was, how he died.”
“That’s how you found the sail?” The queen gasped.
“Yes.”
“By the gods, Lenny. Why did you not tell anyone?”
Lenny glanced at the queen. “I was scared they would think me distraught or demented. After I found the sail, Wilf showed up. His spirit. I can see him. I thought I might be going mad.”
“Of course. No one in your family has magic. Of course,” she whispered. “We must go to Brother Estevan the moment we dock in the Great Harbor. We can waste no time. He will know what this is.”
Her words frightened Lenny, but they were at the shore before she could think too much on it.
She climbed out with the guards and men, helping the ladies with a firm tug to pull
their heavy dresses from the boat.
Onshore more guards joined them. The king had sent a small army when word reached him that the queen would stop in Wetwood.
“How do they get word so quickly?” Lenny asked, eyeing the cluster of men surrounding her family, leaving her and Lord Ivor to walk alone.
“Pigeons,” he said with a smile. “You genuinely know nothing of royal life, do you?”
“Not a single thing.”
“You have much to learn.” He nudged her, grinning and leading the way into the small village.
Lenny nodded, certain she wouldn’t have to. If she and Lord Ivor married, she would convince him to live in Blockley and work the farm and at Quays. It would be a quiet life. Something she had never imagined she’d long for.
She ran her fingers over the scar on her hand as the queen’s words slowly filtered back in.
It was madness and yet the proof was there.
“Shall we?” Lord Ivor offered his arm.
“Yes.” She pushed the thoughts away and focused on the town. Which wasn’t hard. It was interesting to see the wares and how they differed from Blockley’s, but also the similarities. Necklaces and bracelets made of shells. Dried seaweed to snack on. Smoked fish.
“Have you tried the eel from Wetwood Lake?” Lord Ivor asked as they approached an eel smoker with a cartful for sale.
“No.”
“It’s tasty.”
“No, thank you.” She shuddered and continued further into their main street.
The smell of the smithy mixing with the ocean air made her homesick but when she glanced in its direction, she noticed a large crow perched atop, staring at her. The bird's eyes didn’t move from her, staring as though it was reading her very thoughts.
Lenny distracted herself by moving along, inspecting other goods. Convinced she was being paranoid, she ran her fingers along the chimes of a wind chime created from sea glass and sand dollars. The sight of it sent her mind wandering from the watchful crow, back to finding the glass on the beach with Amaya. The oil lamp, which she’d had their father make with the pieces, cast the same muted colors onto the wall.
“Here,” an older lady in the shop handed her a small black stone that was attached to a rope. She took it upon herself to lift it over Lenny’s head, showing her the necklace by holding up the black stone in her gnarled fingers. “It’ll bring you luck.”
“Good or bad?” Lenny asked, making Lord Ivor snort from behind the rack of goods he was inspecting.
“Whatever you deserve,” the lady answered nonchalantly and walked away.
Lenny winced at Lord Ivor. “This might be better for Hilde.” She pulled the necklace off and walked to the street again.
The royal entourage was chaos.
Lenny and Lord Ivor steered clear of it as much as they could, eating berries, smoked fish, and goat cheese, drinking ale, and trying to get to know one another away from the courts or the pressure they would face when they arrived in Waterly City.
It was a pleasant afternoon.
A last pleasant afternoon.
Chapter 4
Lenny hurried behind the queen through a corridor, which she’d never entered before, to the far side of the castle in Waterly City, going in the opposite direction from her family and Lord Ivor after they departed the carriages. After seven days at sea, it seemed strange to be on land, running. The hounds didn’t seem to mind at all, even Ollie with his leg still braced against his side. They sniffed and ran after Lenny with sloppy smiles on their faces.
Queen Saleen had wasted no time, climbing from the boat and hurrying Lenny to Brother Estevan, just as she had intended. She rushed to the library, hoping to find him there as he often was.
She burst through the massive doors, her feet echoing noisily throughout the silent space as she crossed the wooden floors of the library. “Brother Estevan!” she shouted, her voice also echoing into the stacks of books and rows of shelves.
“Your Grace?” an older man called back.
“Ah!” she squealed. “What luck. You are here. I have brought you something of an enigma.” She walked in the direction he had called from, huffing her breath.
“I am fond of enigmas.” The old man popped out from behind a shelf, his eyes gentle and his smile content. He had the sort of face that put you at ease the moment you met him. “Gods, are those wolfhounds?” he asked as Ollie hobbled right to him and demanded affection.
“Indeed, but not the reason I am here. This is Ilenia Ailling. Lenny, meet Brother Estevan. As I mentioned before, he is one of the few brothers who speaks, thank the gods.” She held a hand out, rushing the introductions. Lenny had never met a brother who spoke. They all had taken a vow of silence.
“Ailling?” He cocked a gray wooly eyebrow. “Not one of the triplets from Blockley?”
“The very same.” She motioned at Lenny.
“Triplet daughters born as the white winter moon sat high in the sky, to a lady of the lake,” Brother Estevan repeated the words Lenny had heard the queen say.
“Indeed. Show him your hand, Lenny, and tell him what happened.”
Gentle face or no, Lenny didn’t want him to see her hand. But Queen Saleen helped her lift it, letting him inspect.
“By the gods, how did this happen?”
“Answer him!” Queen Saleen said forcefully.
“I-I found a stone in the sea,” Lenny began. She was uncertain what she should say but started at the beginning with the dead girl and her suspicions. By the end she was regaling him with details she would rather have forgotten if the point of being there wasn’t to find clarity. And as he listened intently, she realized she was relieved to finally meet with someone who might be able to give her answers.
“Lorna Knightly?” Brother Estevan furrowed his brow. “Surely not Lorna who came to court as a girl?”
“The very same,” Queen Saleen spoke through her teeth.
“And your friends with Lorna’s son?” His eyes darted to Lenny.
“Indeed, sir. He is the boy who joined my sister with the water gods.” When she finished speaking, he stepped back and tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. She was certain he was about to shout “witch” and have her burned but instead, he lifted his gaze to the ceiling. He tapped his foot for a moment before turning on his heel and running away from them, his brown robes fluttering in the breeze of his own making.
“I know just the book!” he shouted, waving a hand in the air as he ran away.
“As I suspected.” Queen Saleen beamed. “I am leaving you in good hands.” She sighed, furrowing her brow. “Now that I have the entire story, I’m stunned we missed these signs, me most of all.” She shook her head. “I’m an old fool. I fear another great war is upon us again.”
“Who would have pieced that together?” Lenny scoffed, too tired to be polite and too scared to ask about the war. She’d not slept well on the ship and it was catching up with her. The events had triggered nightmares.
“I suppose. Fortunately, we’re here now and the brothers will know how to help. Please come and tell me what you discover. I have too much to do to stay and wait for Brother Estevan.” She stepped to Lenny, brushing a kiss against her cheek and hugging her softly. “And stop being scared of him. His appearance might suggest otherwise, but he’s older than the stars in the sky. He may as well have been Hithu’s brother. He is your best chance of solving this mystery.” She laughed at her own joke as she rushed off, leaving Lenny in the hands of the brother as her footsteps faded in the distance.
The brother muttered nonsensically as he roamed the shelves, finger pointing like he might also shoot lightning, but instead, he combed books with it. His eyes were wide and his mouth was pressed into a line. It went on like this for some time until he disappeared around a far corner, making no sounds for long enough that Lenny lost the excitement and anticipation his revelation had created.
Scar curled up after a satisfying bit of sniffing, choosing a spot on a thick carpet next
to the unlit fireplace. Ollie didn’t sit. His nose led him to hop around the massive space several times before he finally found a place next to his sister.
Lenny took a seat on a large leather chair and stared at the vast library. It was the sort of place Wen would like. Books as far as the eye could see, relics and information of a time that people had forgotten. She hadn’t forgotten it, she’d never learned much about it. Schooling for ladies left a lot to be desired.
She blinked slowly, staring up into the light of the high windows as they showcased the dancing dust flitting about. Everything slowed down—her mind, her heart rate, and even her breath. Her thoughts emptied and her eyes unfocused.
An image drifted into her thoughts, the one from the nightmare she’d had several times aboard the ship. It was a man walking toward her in a long hallway, past windows with fluttering curtains.
She knew him and the hall but couldn't place where from.
He was there one moment and then hidden. Just as his face cleared and she saw the glow of his pale yellowish-green eyes, a sheer curtain would billow in front of him, blocking him out. He’d walked through it, not pushing through it but moving against it as the curtain blew away and he was again revealed.
Dark hair, pale golden skin, a scar.
His lips moved, saying something but the wind kept it from her.
He repeated it but—
“I’ve got it!” a voice shouted, and Lenny blinked, the dream vanishing like mist pulling away from her.
She sat up, wiping her mouth, realizing she’d fallen asleep. Her mind clung to the face of the man, the scar. Where did she know him from?
“This is the book! Ancient text, so I’ll thank you not to touch.” Brother Estevan carried it as though it were the most delicate object in the world. He laid it down and stared at the brown leather cover of the fat old book. There was nothing special about it as far as Lenny could see. It reminded her of something at Salty’s.
She sat up more, hovering over the cover with Brother Estevan. She noted bits of gold writing shimmering in the light filtering in through the high windows. The title was in a language she didn’t know.