“So she says. She’s been tapering off the drugs in preparation.”
I glanced at him where he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed comfortably over his chest. “Thank you for letting me see him.”
“Morwenna wouldn’t approve, so it’s probably best if we keep this little visit between ourselves.”
I nodded. “Of course. But why did you let me?”
I was curious why someone married to a force of nature like Morwenna would stand up to her, even in such a small way. Commanding people like Morwenna often seemed to go for very passive partners. I’d had him pegged as a yes-man—though there had been that argument I’d overheard when Raven had been keeping me prisoner here, when Tirgen had taken her on over revealing Arlo to the world. And that seemed to have turned out for him. Maybe he just had subtler ways to get what he wanted.
“Morwenna has forgotten what it’s like to be new to having a bondmate—it’s been so long since she and Immi bonded. I knew you would be fretting about him, and I can’t see how your being here would really be a problem. You may have noticed that my wife is rather fond of having her orders obeyed.” He smiled again. “It’s probably healthy for her not to get her own way all the time.”
“Well, I appreciate it,” I said, gazing down at Squeak. I hoped that when those bandages came off, he’d be as good as new, despite what Morwenna had said earlier. Seeing him looking so good gave me hope.
I couldn’t believe the difference she had managed to make to the parts of him that were visible. His face and his right wing already looked as though nothing had happened to him, and that fact went a long way towards making me feel more charitable towards my difficult aunt.
I looked back at Tirgen, wondering how far I could stretch the friendship—but he seemed to have no problem with plain-speaking about his wife. “I wonder if you could answer a question for me?”
“Depends what it is,” he said, still with that easy smile. “I was never very good at geography, so if you want to know the way somewhere, I’m not the man for you. Never had much cause to leave my home.”
I smiled back. I liked this guy, and already felt comfortable with him. It occurred to me that he was my uncle, which gave me a warm feeling of happiness. I’d been so focused on Morwenna that I’d forgotten about the rest of the family. But I’d gained an uncle and a cousin, too, along with her. And who knew? There could be others.
“It’s about Morwenna,” I said, and his face assumed a more cautious expression. “I get the feeling she doesn’t like me. I don’t suppose you know why?”
“Ah.” The smile had gone, and he shifted his weight as if uncomfortable. “That’s a bit of a tricky one. Probably best if I let her cover it.”
“Oh.” Damn. I’d been hoping for some insight. “It’s just, it makes it very hard to work with her. I thought you might have some tips for me.”
“Well … you might remember that she has just lost her sister.”
I blinked, startled by such insensitivity. It was all I could do not to shout at him. “And I lost my mother.” I managed quite a reasonable tone of voice, in the circumstances.
He blinked, too, and his gaze slid away from mine. How could he have forgotten? “Yes. Right. I’d … ah, I’m sorry.” He chewed his lip, but after a moment of silence, he seemed to decide that he owed me something more, and added, in a low voice, “I think Morwenna blames you for Anawen’s death.”
“Blames me?” I drew in a deep breath. “But I had nothing to do with it! Does she blame me for leaving my mother alone in Autumn? It wasn’t something I had a choice about, believe me. She threw me out.”
I realised my voice had gotten shriller, until the last words were practically a cry of anguish. That was the rejected seventeen-year-old inside, baffled by her beloved mother’s abrupt abandonment. It still hurt, even knowing, as I did now, that she’d done it to save me and had never actually stopped loving me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, in more even tones. “It’s still a sore point, as you can probably guess. But I hadn’t seen my mother in four years. How can Morwenna blame me for what happened when I wasn’t even there?”
He sighed and scrubbed at his face wearily. He was probably regretting the kind impulse that had let me in. “Perhaps you’d better sit down.”
Since there was plenty of room, I sat on Squeak’s bed, and Tirgen pulled out the chair from the work bench and turned it around, straddling it with his arms across the back of it.
“You know that Anawen fled Illusion on the Night of Swords, and hid with you in Autumn, assuming the identity of that poor Autumn woman.”
“Livillia, yes.” I’d uncovered Livillia’s body, hidden for twenty years. All this had been explained to me before, but perhaps he needed to warm to his story. I sat and waited with as much patience as I could muster, watching his sun-browned fingers tapping anxiously at the wood of the chair’s back. Obviously, skincrafting required at least some time out and about during the daylight hours.
“And then she cast you out into the mortal world when you were seventeen to protect your identity.”
Hadn’t I just told him that? I swallowed a fierce urge to tell him to get on with it.
“Well, after you left, she was free.” Oh, nice. My face must have shown my feelings too clearly, because he hastened to clarify. “I don’t mean it like that. She loved you, of course, but while you were there, she had to play her part. She’d heard rumours that other Illusionists had survived, but she hadn’t been able to leave you long enough to go searching. Once you were gone, she left the cottage and set out to find out if the rumours were true.”
“And she found Arlo?”
“Not immediately. And certainly not directly. But eventually, she found her way to us.” His eyes no longer saw me, fixed on a memory that curved his lips into a smile. “You should have seen the two of them together—her and Morwenna, I mean. It was like they’d never been apart. Thick as thieves, the pair of them.” The smile broadened. “They fought, too, though they always made up. She was a stubborn woman, your mother.”
“What did they fight about?” I was fascinated by this glimpse into a family dynamic I’d never experienced.
He sobered again and met my eyes, his own troubled. “You, mostly.”
“Me? What was there to fight about? I was in the mortal world, far away.” But no wonder Morwenna wasn’t my biggest fan, if she’d been arguing about me before she’d even met me.
“And your mother wanted you to stay there, ignorant of your heritage. She thought it was safest for you.”
“And Morwenna wanted, what? To bring me here?” She hadn’t sounded very keen on the idea that time I’d overheard her arguing with Raven and Tirgen, but perhaps events had changed her mind.
He sighed. “She had her reasons for wanting you here. But your mother thought they weren’t good enough. At any rate, eventually, we got word that you’d managed to make it back to the Realms on your own. That you’d saved the king and you’d been asking questions around Autumn, looking for Anawen. She decided to go back to the cottage to wait for you.”
I remembered that time all too well. There were only a few days between my beginning the search for my mother and her turning up in the mortal world, already dying. Not for the first time, I wondered uneasily if my search had been the cause. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear the rest of this story.
“That was their biggest fight yet,” Tirgen said. “Morwenna actually forbade her sister to leave Arlo. She might have known that would only encourage her. Of course, Anawen went, and she was waylaid at the cottage by Blethna Arbre, working on Summer’s behalf, who also knew you were looking for your mother and had had the same idea about staking out the cottage to wait for your inevitable return.”
I drew in a shaky breath. Morwenna’s feelings towards me became a little clearer. In a way, I had caused my own mother’s death.
7
The sky was a soft-focus study in oranges and pinks as the sun set
behind the castle when the king arrived. The castle was alight, all the windows shining like a welcoming beacon into the gathering dark. It had probably never seen such a distinguished guest in all its time; it was certainly the most excitement it had experienced since the fall of Illusion twenty years before.
Raven waited at the top of the steps leading up to the main entry, and I stood next to him, my nerves jangling. Morwenna and Tirgen were on his other side, carefully pretending that I wasn’t there. Well, Morwenna was, at least. Several people from the village I hadn’t met—the other members of the council—were also in attendance. It wasn’t every day that the king of all the Thirteen Realms came to visit.
Three familiar slashes in the shape of a doorway formed in the air, glowing against the darkness of the castle’s forecourt. Mist billowed forth as the slashes pulsed and formed a magical gateway wider than the one I was used to seeing. How many people was Kyrrim bringing with him?
He was first through the gate, naked blade still in his hand, as wary as if he were stepping into enemy territory. Behind him came the king, resplendent in a white robe with deep bands of green and gold embroidery around the cuffs of the sleeves and all around the bottom of the robe. He looked like the painting of a Christian saint I’d seen once in a children’s Bible, though his otherworldly beauty somewhat spoiled the impression. Considering the times they had lived in, most of the old saints probably hadn’t even had all their teeth.
Morwenna descended the steps, her long gown trailing behind her. I couldn’t help wondering if she had raided the wardrobe of the former mistress of this castle. The dress was literally worth a king’s ransom. The whole bodice was made of rainbow drake skin, and there were more panels of it in the sleeves. But maybe that was my hurt talking. The fact that her husband was a skincrafter might also have something to do with her possession of such an expensive item of clothing. Queen Ceinwen would have been green with jealousy.
“Your Majesty,” she said as she sank into a curtsey. “It thrills our hearts beyond measure to welcome you to Arlo.”
“And it pleases me beyond measure to be here, gracious lady,” the king replied with his customary aplomb. He took her hand and raised her to her feet.
“May I present my husband, Tirgen, and these others, all loyal subjects of yours,” she went on. As she named each individual, they bowed and curtsied in turn.
Kyrrim kept his position at the king’s side, one respectable step behind the royal shoulder. His eyes had sought mine as he stepped through the gate, but other than that, he made no acknowledgement of me. He was all the Hawk, now, intent on his duty to his liege lord. Not that there was likely to be any danger to the king from the good people of Arlo. In fact, he was probably safer here than in the corridors of his own palace at Whitehaven.
When the king had greeted everyone and exchanged a few words with Raven, he turned to me. I began to sink into my own curtsey, but he stopped me with a hand under my elbow.
“No need for formalities between us. Not here, at any rate.” He smiled down at me, the famous blue eyes of the Brenfell line warm. He took my hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow, then gestured to Morwenna to lead the way. “Shall we?”
Her lips tightened, presumably at the sign of the king’s favour to me. But she turned as she was bid and swept through the open doors of the castle, leading our small group to the room that had been prepared for the king’s arrival. Up two flights of stairs, its large windows looked out over the lake and the spectacle of the rainbow drakes cavorting in the skies above it. The last light of the setting sun caught their jewelled skin, making them twinkle like tiny acrobatic stars. Raven took charge once everyone was seated, directing the servants to fill glasses for all the guests. The Hawk served the king with his own hands.
“Thank you for meeting with us at such short notice,” Raven said. He nodded at the servants, who left the room, closing the door softly behind them.
I refused to look at Morwenna, knowing her feelings on the brevity of the notice she’d received all too well.
“This meeting should have taken place years ago,” the king replied, a fierce gleam in his blue eyes. “I would not delay it another second. Though I admit, I am curious as to your part in these proceedings, Bran.”
Raven forced a smile. Bran was his real name, and the king’s use of it was a subtle reminder that he was, in fact, the third son of the Lord of Night, with responsibilities of his own. Responsibilities that certainly weren’t meant to include harbouring a bunch of fugitives in his father’s Realm. I settled back in my chair, enjoying that rather strained smile.
“You are wondering whether my lord father lied to you. I assure you that I took every care to make sure that he knew nothing of Arlo’s presence in our Realm.”
“Strange that a Lord would have so little idea what was happening in his own Realm.”
“My father has spent a lot of time since your disappearance in Whitehaven, sire, trying to protect your interests. And his own, of course.”
The king nodded gravely. Everyone in the room understood Raven’s meaning. The Lord of Night had not been paying as close attention to his own Realm as he might have, in the struggle to limit the influence of Summer at the royal Court.
“Tell me, how did you come to be Arlo’s protector?”
Raven shrugged, grinning. “In the usual way. Because of a girl. I met one of Morwenna’s people in the forests of Night. Not a safe place for a lady travelling alone. I offered my help, and we became friends.”
The king raised a sceptical eyebrow. “And she trusted you with the enormous secret of her people’s existence?”
“Not right away. Not for a long time, in fact. But we became close. In the end, I found out more by accident than anything else, but I was determined to offer what help I could.”
The king nodded approvingly. “Very noble of you.”
I almost snorted at the thought of Raven doing anything noble, but managed to restrain myself just in time. Though he had helped me, I still didn’t entirely trust him. He was a trickster, and his motives for anything he did were usually unclear, if not downright ambiguous.
Raven himself seemed a little uncomfortable at the compliment. He glanced at Morwenna. “Perhaps we should address the question of who is to lead Illusion first?”
She scowled at him. “Plenty of time for that. We have far more pressing matters to discuss.”
“Are you still in touch with the Air fae who originally helped to save Arlo?” the king asked her.
Morwenna nodded. “Several of them visit us regularly, to ensure the magics that keep us afloat are still fully operational.”
That was something I hadn’t considered. The thought of the island and all the people on it crashing suddenly to the earth made me shudder.
“Good. We will need to consult with them on returning Arlo to its original place.”
“Sire, they say that it will take much less power on their part to settle the island than it did to raise it,” Tirgen said, speaking for the first time. Well, that was good, since so many of them had died in the effort to save the island. “They also say that Earth magic will be required to fit Arlo back onto it foundations.”
Rothbold frowned. “I am of Earth, of course,” he said, looking thoughtful. “I shall have to consult with your Air fae to see how much power they think will be required, and whether one man alone will be capable of the task.”
I could see his difficulty. It sounded like a big job, but he would have to be sure that anyone he enlisted to help him could keep a secret until he was ready to reveal it.
“Perhaps your sister, sire,” I suggested. Yriell was the most powerful fae I knew, mistress of the Wilds, that dangerous remnant of old Earth that made the Greenways so perilous. It wouldn’t surprise me to find that she was more powerful than her brother, the king.
The king glanced at Kyrrim questioningly, who nodded.
“The Princess Orina would be the perfect choice, sire,” he said.
>
“I will leave it to you, then, to enlist her aid.”
“Sire, when do you plan on making your move?” Raven asked.
“I see no reason to delay further.” True, things with Summer weren’t going to get any easier. A swift, bold move would be the king’s best bet. “I think we must ensure the maximum number of witnesses to Arlo’s return.”
“What do you have in mind, sire?”
The king glanced at me again. “Allegra, perhaps your friend Lord Eldric wouldn’t mind hosting a grand gathering. Something to commemorate the passing of Illusion, perhaps, on the twentieth anniversary of its demise.”
Inwardly, I winced. That wasn’t going to go down too well with Kellith, who had been the cause of Illusion’s fall. Still, the king wasn’t in the business of keeping his brother-in-law happy. Far from it. It was time for the Lord of Summer to learn his place in the Realms, and it wasn’t on the throne.
“Will the queen …?” I trailed off, unsure how to phrase my question without giving offence. It was no secret whose side Queen Ceinwen was on.
“Leave Ceinwen to me. I’ll give you a message for Lord Eldric.”
Kyrrim shifted restlessly. “Sire, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for Allegra to deliver the message herself. There have been several attempts on her life.”
The king sighed. “I’m well aware of that, Kyrrim. I’m not suggesting she should go alone. She will have you to protect her. And also those estimable friends of hers. I would think twice myself before I crossed Willow Andrakis.”
That made me smile. Willow in her full glory was indeed a terrifying sight.
Morwenna, predictably, was the only person in the room who didn’t seem amused. “Speaking of protection, sire, I’m concerned about my people’s safety after we return.”
Almost apologetically, her husband added, “We have grown used to hiding, you see. It’s a big step for us to come into the light again.”
Ignoring him, Morwenna continued, “Summer won’t take the loss of its stolen territory lightly. What’s to stop them coming in and slaughtering us all as they did before?”
Changeling Illusion (Thirteen Realms Book 3) Page 6