Chapter Twenty
Julianne sat quietly in the back of Danil's mind as he patiently waited for someone to respond to his obnoxiously loud calls.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Danil called again, hands cupped to his mouth, but the doors stayed closed. Danil threw a glance at Julianne and shrugged, and in the early morning sun she saw his eyes light up.
Danil reached out to the gatekeeper to give him a mental command. It wasn't difficult; although the man had initially refused to open the gate, he had been conflicted. The gatekeeper knew what lurked outside, and his instinct was to protect the people who turned up asking for refuge. It was only his deep-seated fear of what lurked outside that had stopped him from removing the heavy barricade. Queen Catherine warned us of the monsters in the forest, but… Oh, Bitch, what if they end up cursed like us?
Queen? Danil sent to Julianne. Curse?
She didn't respond, but Danil felt her note the strange references. Once he had given the gatekeeper a hard-enough prod, the gates scraped and creaked as they were opened. Gripping Polly's hand tightly, the couple stepped inside.
"I'll let you in," the man said, throwing a nervous glance beyond the mystic. "Just you two. Two is bad enough. I can't be letting a whole country full of strangers inside, not when the risks are… Well, you understand, don't you?"
The man looked at Danil, pleading for the mystic to accept his decision. Taking pity on the man due to the great strain he was under, Danil nodded. "You can close that again. I'm sure that once we speak to Catherine you'll know what to do next."
A cloud of confusion passed over the man's face, but he quickly turned back to swing the tall and heavy doors closed. He turned the wheel that lowered the massive beam into place while his companion worked an intricate pulley system to guide it.
"Now we just have to find our benevolent host." Danil straightened and cocked his head to one side as if listening.
"And how are we supposed to do that?" Polly asked, nervously eyeing the neatly cobbled streets. They were still in the shadow of the great wall, and she shivered as a cool breeze dawdled past. A couple of windows were already open, though lanterns still dotted the streets from the previous night.
"Perhaps we should find a guide," Danil suggested.
Polly raised an eyebrow but didn't comment when a middle-aged woman ducked out of her house and hurried over to them. She angled a worried glance at the sky, then dropped her eyes to the ground.
"Hello,” the woman said. “Hogan said you needed someone to take you to Catherine. Damned if I know how he even knew you were here… Well, my name is Teagan. Just follow me and we'll have you there in no time."
Teagan self-consciously wiped her hands on her apron, puffs of flour clouding the air as she dusted them off. She trotted down the street with the quick jerky movements of someone headed toward their doom.
"You're not hurting her, are you?" Polly muttered. "I've never actually seen you do this before. Kind of creepy."
"Do what?" Danil asked. "She's not under a spell. Her husband was when he ordered her out here, but Teagan isn't affected by anything."
"Ah, I see." Polly shuddered. "But it's still creepy."
"Hey, I have never hidden what I am," Danil said. He wished he could see her expression, but the nearby townspeople were hiding behind doors and curtains and Teagan had her back to them.
"I never said it was a bad thing," Polly remarked. "It's just weird to watch you do it. I know you’d never use your magic to hurt anyone."
"Well, I certainly hope you know that."
Polly darted a glance at the woman ahead. "She can't hear us, can she?" Polly cursed to herself, only now realizing how loudly they’d been talking. Still, Teagan hadn't given any sign she’d overheard their conversation.
Danil frowned. "She heard everything. She’s too scared to say anything, though."
Polly squirmed uneasily. "You weren’t kidding when you said this town was weird."
They were taken to a large stone manor toward the center of the city. The building was garish, painted crisp white and deep purple with flashes of red. Through the tall windows that lined the front walls, Danil could see plush green curtains embroidered with lavender flowers. None of the colors quite matched, and the withered brown plants by the front door did nothing to pull the decor together.
Teagan walked up to the door and Polly saw her hand tremble as she lifted it to knock. Danil’s eyes were already white since he’d used Polly's sight to navigate the narrow streets, but she heard him mutter something under his breath.
"She's nervous. Not exactly scared of Catherine, but not thrilled to be here either," Danil whispered. Despite Teagan’s resolute dismissal of their earlier conversation, he wasn't sure how the woman would react to being spoken about so openly.
Teagan's mouth thinned as she turned to the couple. "There you go. You…uhh…don’t want me to come in, do you?"
Danil glanced at Polly and raised an eyebrow.
The man who opened the door looked less than pleased at the disturbance. His long narrow face and thick eyebrows were pulled into a sour frown. "Our Queen wishes to know why she is being disturbed," he said, his voice as dour as his expression. “Her nerves are fragile. Surely you know better than to startle her with an unexpected visit?”
Teagan's face fell in dismay, but Danil quickly intervened. With a quickly muttered phrase under his breath, he bowed to the butler. "Queen Catherine has requested our presence. This lovely girl was simply showing us the way. I'm sure Queen Catherine will be just fine."
A brief flicker of confusion crossed the butler's face, then he smiled and bowed to Danil. "Of course, of course. Come this way." He gestured Danil and Polly inside but dropped an arm behind them to prevent Teagan from following. The girl sighed with relief as the door closed in her face.
"Charles, my good man," Danil said with an easy grin, "tell me exactly how young Catherine came to be Queen?"
Charles almost fell over his own feet and a sudden wash of discomfort flooded his face. "I… Um, I don't remember. I'm sure it… It’s legitimate, I’m sure it is."
"It's all right. I won't press you for it just yet." Danil spoke flatly, recognizing the signs of a not-so-subtle spell. He dug around in Charles' head, cursing the clumsy spell Catherine had put on him.
Charles shook his head.
"This way." Once the conversation had ceased, Charles sank back into his role as a butler.
Danil wondered exactly what Charles remembered of his past. He had been a teacher; one with an excellent reputation. He had been in high demand by the city’s elite, who wanted only the best tutelage for their children.
He had in fact taught Catherine, though as an adult. She’d requested a tutor after her marriage, and when Coates had died Charles had been absorbed into the household during Catherine’s grief.
Charles guided them up the extravagant staircase and down a hallway hung with old tapestries and paintings and finally paused at two ornately carved doors. He gave a single bow before sweeping the doors open.
"Charles! What are you doing? Why are these people in my bedroom?"
Through Danil's connection with Polly, Julianne regarded the girl. Her face still held the softness of youth, despite her sharp cheekbones and pallor. Catherine’s eyes were ringed in tired circles and her hands shook as she clutched her shawl tighter.
This girl was probably no more than seventeen, Julianne guessed. Catherine’s brown hair hung in limp ringlets above her shoulders, held back from her face by a tarnished bronze tiara.
"Danil?” Polly murmured.
Danil reached out to her, letting Julianne feel the flood of fear that ran through his girlfriend. Both mystics felt Polly wrestle with the emotion as she clenched her hands into fists. She focused on the pain of her nails biting into flesh to distract her from the overwhelming desire to run.
Danil, I don't think this is safe. Julianne sent the warning like a sharp cut. She grew concerned at her fellow my
stic's stunned silence. Danil?
A pit of worry opened in Julianne's gut. Though mental magic could be incredibly strong, she had never seen anything like this. Even Rogan's spells had had intent behind them. Danil's brief look into Catherine's mind, however, showed that this had none. Almost like a child who had grown up speaking to animals and thinking it was the most normal thing in the world, Catherine had no idea that what she was doing had any base in magic.
The girl simply believed that everyone was as afraid as she was. That reinforced her fear, creating a loop that convinced her that if everyone else was scared too her fears must be real.
Julianne sent a sharp mental tug on Danil's mind that jerked him out of his downward spiral into terror and he shook his head, blinked, and cut off his bond with Polly. That seemed to help. With his shields in place—and without the added effect of feeling Polly's distorted emotions—he was able to think a little more clearly.
Bitch's oath, Jules. What the hell do I do about this?
Chapter Twenty-One
Catherine regarded the newcomers with a mixture of terror and relief.
“Oh, you poor thing,” the man crooned and knelt in front of her. “I’m not here to hurt you. Not at all.” His white eyes shone like stars, white-hot. They burned into her soul.
“Please,” she gasped. “Take what you want. The jewels are in the dresser over there!” She thrust a jerky hand toward the nearby bureau.
“Sshhhh.” The man muttered a word…magic, perhaps? She’d heard of magic, but never seen it. A fireball, she was sure. She braced herself for death.
Warmth spread through her, but not the searing heat of the magical fire. Catherine’s heart beat painfully and slowly. Her breath smoothed from ragged gasps into a deep nourishing rhythm that made her head swim.
“Who are you?" she whispered, and for the first time since her mother died the world seemed just a little less frightening.
She glanced at the girl who’d entered with him. Even she seemed to realize something had changed, unclenching her fists and dropping her shoulders.
“My name is Danil,” the man said. He wobbled a little and sweat beaded his forehead. “It’s all right, Catherine. We’re here to help.”
“Help?” The tiniest spark of hope flared deep within Catherine’s soul. Help? No one can help me…can they?
Catherine knew she was cursed. The moment her mother had died, a crippling blanket of terror had suffocated not only her world but everything around her. Threats came for her constantly, from remnant attacks to rabid animals, and once a cloud of angry bees.
She’d been on her own for two years now, thrust into a loveless marriage when her father concluded that Catherine was a bad omen; a magnet for grief and danger. He’d married her off to Coates and dusted his hands of her fate, only to meet a messy end when he ran into a remnant band on his way home from Anrock.
Catherine shuddered, remembering the bloodied and torn arm one of the traders had brought her as proof that her father had died. He hadn’t run fast enough to escape the curse.
By that point Coates had decided Catherine was damaged goods. He’d attempted to lock her up, but had ended up curled into a tiny ball, weeping at the prospect of someone being confined to a small dirty windowless cell for eternity.
And that, Catherine thought wryly, was how she’d inadvertently become responsible for a city full of people; people she’d cursed with her aura of doom.
“It’s not a curse,” Danil told her gently.
Catherine’s eyes shot open. “What are you talking about?” She knew the townsfolk had mumbled accusations, but Catherine had never confirmed their theories—even though she believed them.
“Your curse. It’s just…” Danil frowned, wondering how to explain in a way she’d understand and not be frightened by. “It’s magic, but it’s a bit broken. It’s like you’re trapped in a mirror maze at a carnival.”
“Magic?” Catherine asked dubiously.
“Yes, but…” Danil cocked his head to the side as if listening to something. “That’s not important now. You need to stay calm and instruct your men to open the gates.”
“The…gates?” Memories of her father’s bloodied ring being pulled from a bitten-off finger flashed into her mind. “No. Not the gates.” She shook her head and scurried back across the bed.
The surge of fear built, then fell again, subdued into a humming bubble of worry.
“Catherine, please!” Danil begged. “My people are out there and a remnant force is—”
“Remnant!” Catherine sobbed. The veneer of control crumbled and Danil staggered under the weight of her terror. “No! No, no one must open the gates! They’ll come in! They’ll eat our arms and tear off our legs. They’ll kill us all. They’ll kill us all!”
“Catherine—”
“No!” She lifted her head, wild eyes turned to his face. “You’re trapped here now. You’re doomed—doomed with the rest of us.”
Gasping raggedly, she skittered away from the visitor’s outstretched hand. She evaded his clumsy grasp and fled, sprinting down the narrow hall and out into the street.
Tears blurred her eyes as she ran, partly from terror and partly from the blinding glare of the morning light. She hadn’t been outside in… No, don’t think about that now. Hide. I have to hide!
She spied a pile of fruit crates discarded by an alley.
Perfect.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Danil’s down,” Julianne snapped as a remnant barreled toward them. “So is Polly.”
It launched toward Garrett but was thrown aside when Marcus slammed into it.
“What?” Marcus whipped his head around, alarmed. “How the hell did that happen?” He let off a single pulse from his rifle and the remnant’s head—as well as the small red shell attached to its brain stem—went flying.
Julianne shook her head slowly. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. How long can we hold off this force? More specifically, how long can you hold it off?”
“If we knew how many o’ the bastards were out there I could tell ye.” Garrett slapped the haft of his axe against his palm. “But I’ll take a guess and say they’re not yer regular run o’ the mill remnants.” He pointed at the body on the ground. “If one’s been got by the Skrima, they all are.”
“Strange they’d only send one in to attack,” Julianne mused. “You think they were testing us?”
“It’s as good a guess as any.” Marcus squinted toward the trees, eyes picking out a flash of movement among the foliage. “How many do you think are out there?”
“Mostly likely between, oh, two and two hundred o’ the pricks,” Garrett answered unhelpfully.
“And normal remnant wouldn’t wait, they’d just attack.” Julianne nodded in agreement.
“Aye. The bastards are waitin’ fer somethin’.”
“They may have that luxury, but we don’t.” Julianne turned to Marcus. “Get a weapon in every available hand. We’ll fight to the death if need be.”
“What about the town?” Garrett asked.
A flicker of indecision passed over Julianne’s features. “Danil’s in there and he’s terrified. Not of anything that will hurt him,” she quickly reassured the others. “It’s just a spell. But she broke through his shields and she’s on the run. I could hunt her down, but…” Her eyes scanned the tree line. “At what cost? You need fighters out here. You need my staff.”
Garrett sucked air through his teeth. “Ye can fight all right, lass, but we don’t need weapons. We need a big-assed wall between those mind-fucked forest scum and our people.”
Julianne looked at Marcus. “Majority rules.”
Marcus raised his hands defensively. “Don’t make this my problem! You’re the damn Master. You pick!”
Julianne folded her hands on the butt end of her staff, leaning on it casually. “I’m waiting, dear.”
Marcus screwed up his face, then wagged a finger back and forth between the two. Julianne saw
his lips move and guessed he was counting out the beats of a rhyme.
“Miney, mo!” Marcus’s finger pointed squarely at Garrett when he stopped. “Looks like your fight is inside today, Jules.”
Julianne nodded, happy that a choice was made. She’d calculated the odds as being fairly even either way, so she wasn’t perturbed that he’d chosen against her—or worried about how he’d made a choice that might determine the fate of several dozen innocent people.
“Get yer ass in there then, lass.” Garrett nodded to the trees, tips now glowing in the sunlight. “I don’t think they’ll wait too long.”
Julianne turned to go but a hand touched her elbow.
"I know you're busy," Jackson began, "but can you help me?"
"Of course," Julianne replied. "What do you need?"
"Magic." Jackson gestured at his swollen knees. "I'm not likely to see this through. Oh, don't you worry about me—I've had a long life, and for the most part it's been a good one. But if this is how I'm going to go out, I'd like to have one last chance at taking out the bastards who have killed so many of my people."
Julianne hesitated. "Jackson, I’m not a healer. I wish I was."
"I can fight, it's just the pain holding me back. I don't need you to fix anything, just…hide it a bit. Make it so I can't feel my bones grind together with every step I take. If you could just dull even a bit of pain, I can take care of the rest."
"That's incredibly dangerous," Julianne said. "If I get it wrong, you could be mortally wounded and not even realize it."
"And I might be stabbed in the gut if you don't." Jackson leaned closer to her. "Please. I won't do anything stupid, and I won't hold you responsible if I die."
Narrowing her eyes at the logic of his last statement, Julianne pulled back. She watched him for a moment, eyes boring into his soul, but Jackson didn't flinch.
A New Dawn- Complete series Page 107