Evenlight

by Krista Walsh

  Jeff laughed, the movement catching his breath so he had to pause, leaning against the wall until the spasm in abs eased. “But I bet Feldall appreciated it.”

  “He would bring that moment up whenever he introduced me to anyone,” Brady remembered with a hint of pride. “He was a good man, and I was lucky to have him as my protector. I don’t think I would have fared nearly as well under Kariel.”

  A servant passed them at that moment, and Jeff almost laughed at the dirty look she gave them. Under other circumstances, he would have felt awkward, getting caught speaking negatively about his host, but it was difficult to feel bad when said host was trying to throw an injured guest out into the snow.

  They reached the main hall, and Jeff’s jaw dropped at the decadence of the decor. Wall-to-wall red carpets, and gold trim on almost everything, floor-to-ceiling tapestries, and nothing but rosewood furniture worked through with carved images—most likely of all the Kariel descendants.

  It made Feldall’s keep look like the starkest of monasteries.

  “This guy as rich as his front room suggests?” Jeff asked out of the side of his mouth as they started up another flight of stairs.

  “Rich in value, maybe, but not in taste.”

  By the time they reached the top of the second flight of stairs, Jeff was winded. He propped himself up against the wall until the spots faded from his eyes, not caring how long he kept Kariel waiting as long as he didn’t pass out trying to reach him.

  After a few seconds, the muscles in his legs eased, and Brady directed him into a large drawing room on their left.

  Jeff had been a guest in Queen Ansella’s private audience chamber, and even that style was demure compared to this room. The furniture was plush and purple and didn’t appear very comfortable. The table in the middle could have been modelled after the Arthurian legend, if the knights had required a good-sized coffee table. All of it was unnecessarily frivolous, and Jeff felt the sardonic smile creep up on him again.

  Wanting to at least try for a good impression to Herrin and the woman beside him who Jeff assumed to be his wife, he hid the grin behind his hand and cleared his throat as he dropped down on the sofa next to Jasmine.

  Yep. Might as well be made of rock.

  Venn pushed away from the spot of wall she’d taken to sit down next to Jeff, making him feel flanked by the world’s best bodyguards. Jayden sat on the sofa across from them, looking stern for being in the company of friends. Brady remained standing behind Jasmine, one hand resting on her shoulder.

  Herrin, from his spot in a chair that looked even more solid than the sofa, glared at Jeff. His wife, on the other hand, offered a sweet smile. She appeared to be a much softer human being, with blonde hair to her chin, warm hazel eyes, and many fine creases around her eyes and mouth that suggested she smiled and laughed with much greater frequency than her husband. Unlike Herrin in his posh attire of white tunic and grey trousers accented by a purple jacket with gold stitching, she was simply dressed in a beige gown with lilac trimming.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Jeff,” she said. “I’m Sarah Kariel. I understand you met my grump of a husband yesterday.”

  “Pleasure,” Jeff replied, not sure how to respond to Sarah’s honest introduction.

  His gaze darted from wife to husband, whose face darkened like a coming storm. Not prepared to make a bad situation worse, he left his reply at that.

  “Don’t be too friendly yet, my dear,” said Herrin, his voice as tight as his grip on the armrest. “We don’t yet know his full story. I’d hate it to be said that we were kind to our daughter’s murderer.”

  Sarah’s expression soured. “And don’t you accuse him of anything so heinous until we’ve heard his side of the story. Do you truly believe Loreen’s children would befriend someone who associated with Raul? After what happened? Honestly, Herrin, sometimes I doubt there’s a brain in that skull of yours.”

  “Please, Lord Kariel, Lady Kariel,” said Brady, “what have you heard against Jeff that gives rise to these suspicions?”

  Herrin’s eyes narrowed, and when he didn’t answer, Sarah gave an exasperated sigh and pulled the letter out of her husband’s coat pocket.

  “Really, Herrin,” she scolded, handing the letter to Jeff.

  Jeff unfolded the parchment, and Brady shifted behind him to read over his shoulder.

  To the esteemed Lord of Kariel,

  It has come to our attention that you have agreed to harbour a known compatriot of the sorcerer Raul. Considering your history, you know I do not use these words lightly. Jeffrey Powell has twice been a guest in Andvell, and the timing of both visits coincided with Raul’s returns after notable absences. The coincidence feels too strong to be ignored.

  Powell has been seen in Raul’s company on multiple occasions. On his first visit to Andvell, he is known to have been a guest at Treevale Fortress not once, but twice. And once for a considerable period of time. Even more telling, he was able to pass through the magical wall the sorcerer had set about his home, a wall that none of Raul’s enemies could penetrate.

  He has now arrived in the country for the third time and—I ask your discretion here—once more we face a national threat.

  While we cannot deny Powell was instrumental in defeating Raul, we cannot be assured his motivations were as altruistic as they appeared to be. He weaves a strange tale full of magic and impossibilities, and, as a rational man, I find it difficult to believe the irrational when an alternative presents itself.

  I understand the Feldall clan is on its way to visit us at the palace. It is my opinion that your friends have been blinded by a sense of loyalty to the truth of their companion’s intentions, and I feel you should hurry them on their journey here so Powell can be questioned and tried, hopefully before any more damage can be done.

  Yours ever,

  Theodore Basten

  “Huh,” said Jeff, once he finished interpreting the loopy squiggle of the first counsellor’s signature. “And I thought I was the only one here who wrote fiction. What a crock of shit.” He glanced at Sarah and flushed. “Apologies, my Lady.”

  Sarah smiled. “No apologies required. I agree with that assessment.”

  Jasmine took the letter and gave it a quick scan. “This is ridiculous. Where did he get his information? He doesn’t mention any sources, or reasons for his beliefs. That man is—I can’t even think of a good word for him.”

  “I can think of a few,” Jeff mumbled.

  “I can’t hold it against Basten,” said Sarah. “He’s loyal to crown and country and has Andvell’s best interests at heart. The problem is he frets too much, determined to see ghosts in every shadow, no matter how many times he confirms it’s just the wardrobe.”

  Herrin huffed. “First Counsellor Basten is the most sensible man in the country. Her Majesty wouldn’t rely so heavily on him otherwise. If he has good reason to doubt the loyalties of this man, and even go so far as to put it in print, I must side with him.”

  “Without hearing my side?” asked Jeff. He did his best to keep his tone neutral, but the lord’s flagrant determination to believe the worst of him rankled.

  “How can we be sure your version is the truth?” Herrin countered. He sighed and his shoulders drooped, the muscles in his face sagging, transforming him into an old man who had lost his world. “We must err on the side of caution, you understand. Too many times we’ve taken chances, and the last time I lost something I can never reclaim.”

  “I understand,” said Jeff, hostility fading in the face of Herrin’s grief. “But I have people—credible people—willing to vouch for me. Able to corroborate my story.”

  “Were they with you at Treevale? Corroboration requires witnesses, Mr Powell, not just wishful thinking.”

  Jeff thought of Cassie. Wished beyond anything that she were here. All she would have to do is describe her fear, and the way Raul had used her to force Jeff to follow his orders. Orders that Jeff had rebelled against after half a day of work.
To hear all his interactions with the bastard twisted to sound like collusion made him sick to his stomach.

  “You’re making an error in judgement,” Jayden said. He spoke slowly, reining in his anger. “I may not have been present to witness all Jeff’s interactions with Raul, but based on what I did see, I’m damned sure they had no standing partnership.”

  “The mind sees what it wishes to see, my boy. No amount of denial or hope will change that. No, I’m afraid that until Basten deems Andvell safe from Mr Powell, I cannot permit him to remain here.” He stretched his hand out towards the exterior walls. “We already have strangers attacking our lands trying to kill him. My guards caught two of those robed people this morning attempting to scale the walls. Corban may think highly of himself, but I am lord here, and my orders stand.”

  On shaky legs, Jeff rose to his feet. “Very well. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me and giving me the extra night to heal. It’s my choice not to remain under the roof of a man who accuses me of voluntarily participating in the worst atrocities to human kind I’ve ever seen.” He shifted on his feet to face Herrin’s wife. “Lady Kariel, I appreciate your open-mindedness. I hope we have another opportunity to talk sometime.”

  He didn’t wait for either of them to answer, not sure how far his patience could extend against such obstinate ignorance. With as much dignity as he could muster with his limp and shuffle, he left the room, Venn close on his heels.

  “Smarmy asshole,” she muttered under her breath.

  “I believe my friend has the right of it,” he heard Jayden say. It took Jeff a moment to realise he meant Jeff and not Venn. “You’ve been a longtime friend of my family, Herrin, and I hope the day comes when you see how mistaken you are. Until then it’s best we leave.”

  Brady, Jasmine, and Jayden followed the other two out into the corridor, accompanied by Sarah.

  She held a finger to her lips and gestured for them to lead the way down the stairs, seeing them to the foyer.

  Jayden wrapped his arm around her, although her head only came up to the crook of his shoulder, and kissed her forehead. “You look lovely as ever. It was great to see you again.”

  “You as well, love, and you, Jasmine,” she said, reaching out to take Jasmine’s hand. “I know it doesn’t sound like it with all his grump, but Herrin cares about you very much. Deep down, I think he knows you’re not guilty of all those horrible things, Jeff. He’s just angry and needs someone to blame for what happened to Tory. Neither of us have fully recovered, but he has yet to accept it at all. It’s difficult to watch. Especially when he takes it out on those who have been so kind and supportive over the years.”

  Jayden squeezed her shoulder. “As we will continue to be. Raul ruined many lives, and most of us are still trying to pick up the pieces.”

  “You’ve done well, all things considered. Your parents would be proud. Of both of you,” she added with a pointed look at Jasmine. Her face relaxed into a smile, and she glanced towards Brady. “I confess I’d hoped since you hit your majority that you would look on this young man with a kind eye. I’ve always had a fondness for you, Brady. I’m pleased I can officially call you family.”

  Brady’s smile was an expression of purest happiness, and Jeff’s heart warmed after the coldness of the room upstairs. The Brady from last year would have blushed and shrunk into himself at the attention, but just as he had softened Jasmine’s iron maiden demeanour, so had she brought out an inner spirit in him that had hidden so long among the counsellor’s books.

  “As for you, Venn, I look forward to getting to know you better. Given what Jasmine’s told me of your history, you have many stories to share.”

  “I’m not sure many of my stories would be appropriate for someone of your status,” said Venn, picking up on Jeff’s warning stare, “but even so I look forward to meeting you again.”

  “At Feldall’s Keep next time, perhaps,” Sarah said with a small sigh, looking around the foyer. “I don’t know what Herrin’s mother was thinking when she decorated this place, but for the life of me I can’t convince my husband to replace any of it. The more often I get to take a break from all this bright carpet and dark furniture, the happier I am.”

  Jasmine laughed and embraced the older woman. “And we’d be happy to have you.”

  Brady cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to impose business on you at a time like this, but I don’t suppose we could see to having our belongings packed and the horses prepared. I know Jeff will need help to get ready.”

  Jeff grumbled. He didn’t enjoy the insinuation that he couldn’t take care of himself, but as his head swam and the pattern in the carpet swirled in his vision, he knew he couldn’t put up much of a fight.

  Sarah gave them all a warm, motherly smile that reminded Jeff of Maggie. “None of you need to worry about leaving today. I spoke with the servants and convinced them they couldn’t possibly sort things out until tomorrow. Queen Ansella needs you to hurry, and Herrin is pushing you out, but you are still guests in my house, and we all know who the real head of this family is. Get some rest, and let me worry about his grumbling.”

  ***

  The extra night’s rest was just enough to give Jeff the energy he needed to dress and pack the next morning.

  “I’m still not happy about your leaving so soon,” said Corban. His back to Jeff, he was putting together a care package of salves and ointments as Jeff pulled on his pants. “But at least Lady Kariel has a sensible head on her shoulders, which is more than I can say for my lord and master.”

  Jeff shrugged into his vest and laced it up, his fingers trembling as he tied the final knot.

  “Oh, this is ridiculous,” he snapped, frustrated enough to leave the laces in a jumble. “I feel like a ninety-year-old man.”

  Corban’s eyebrow arched. “Excuse me, boy, but I’ve seen eighty-seven winters and can still tie my own laces. Don’t blame age for your inadequacies.”

  As he chided, he shuffled over and helped Jeff finish up.

  “It’s not unusual, given the injury and the poison. You’ll tire very quickly as you recover, and your leg will likely cramp after not much riding, so I recommend you stop often to walk and stretch the muscles. You’ll sleep well once you reach the palace, I have no doubt. Fortunately, you’re less than a day away at this point.”

  He returned to his work table and put a few glass jars into a leather satchel. “These salves are of my own making. Better than anything you’ll find at the palace no matter what the royal healers may say. I’ve given you enough to last a few days, which should get you over the worst of the healing.”

  Jeff took the satchel with a grimace. “No hogglewort, I hope?”

  “No hogglewort,” Corban replied with a chuckle.

  “But there are more stinging bees?”

  “Stinging bees of healing,” Corban corrected, raising a finger. “Twice a day. No more or you could die due to the toxins.”

  Jeff moved the satchel off his lap.

  “And this is for the soul.” Corban returned with a cream tart in hand. “Taking care of the spirit is as necessary as caring for the body, and in my medical opinion, sweet treats are the key to a happy soul.”

  Jeff accepted the tart and bit into it, moaning in pleasure as the sugars hit his tongue. Better than any desserts he’d had in his world.

  “Now get out of my healing ward before I change my mind and keep you here until you’re well.”

  Extending a hand, Jeff said, “Thanks, doc. For saving my life, for the pastry. For being generally awesome.”

  Corban blinked. “I don’t know what that last bit means, but I’ll accept it as a compliment. You’ve been a mostly model patient, but I hope to never see you on my table again.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  Jeff wished him goodbye and slung the satchel over his head, settling the strap across his chest. He wove his way through the otherwise empty ward and took the stairs one aching step at a time. His injured leg scre
amed by the time he reached the top, but the sleep and Corban’s salve had worked wonders.

  The servants had everything ready, and in a very short time, Jeff was mounted on Swish, the gelding seeming none the worse for wear for his adventure, and they were on the road.

  The weather had improved a little during their delay. The temperature had risen to a less bone-freezing degree, and the sun felt warmer on Jeff’s face as they carried on towards the palace.

  For about an hour. Then the clouds returned, the snow started to fall, and within minutes a storm blustered around them, flakes and ice pellets driving into Jeff’s eyes so he had to keep his head turned away from the road, hoping Swish was guarded enough to see where the hell they were going.

  “Corban said it should only be a day’s ride from here?” Jeff asked, projecting his voice over the dulling oppression of the snow.

  “Sounds about right,” called Jasmine. “Although I think Jayden and Brady added a few shortcuts to the route.”

  Jeff breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed his burning thigh.

  But Jasmine didn’t appear her usual robust self either, he noticed. Her green eyes drooped with fatigue and her skin shone with a film of sweat.

  “Are you feeling all right?” he asked. “You’ve seemed a bit out of sorts since I arrived at the Keep. My presence isn’t making you ill, is it?”

  “Only a little,” Jasmine replied with a wink. “No, I think I’m just recovering from everything that happened. So much over such a short time. Corey, Jayden’s injuries, Brady dying, people world-jumping, battles, magic. I don’t know how I manage to roll out of bed most mornings.”

  “I wish there was such a thing as a holiday from life,” Jeff agreed. “We could all use a break.”

  “To be fair, this is a holiday from your regular life.”

  Jeff gestured to his leg. “You call this a holiday? It would be the worst theme park ever.”

  Jasmine’s brow scrunched at the reference, but she let it pass.

  “Hopefully,” Jeff continued, “we’ll get to the palace, discover the solution is a very simple one, fix the veil, and we can all get a good night’s sleep. Once we find Cassie.”