Silverglen: A Young Adult Epic Fantasy Novel

by E. A. Burnett

  Gregory eyed her, his weary remorse hiding for a moment behind a glint of amusement. "You do have a few things in common, actually. You cannot be raised by someone and not pick up a few qualities. Skilled in weapon use, for instance. The way you carry yourself, head held high and back like a stone wall. Your overconfidence in yourself—"

  She gave a weak smile. “Well…”

  He grinned. "Admit it."

  Ember rolled her eyes. "Fine. I've taken up some of Arundel's traits. But only the good ones."

  Gregory's gaze sobered, and his tone grew earnest. "No, I mean admit that we are still friends."

  His eyes, the hue of rain, pleaded with her. The remorse and weariness tucked themselves behind the plea and were rimmed by a strength Ember was familiar with. He could take it if she said no, if she chose to leave him in her past. He would understand, accept it, and move on.

  Once, she would've clung to the memory of that lady sitting on his lap, or of his head buried against her neck, and the memories might have been a barrier between them.

  But she had no interest in the lady now, only in Gregory's well-being.

  Things between us will never be as they were. A pang of nostalgia, but also, surprisingly, a loosening sensation in her chest that felt like freedom. She didn't need Gregory in her life, either, though she enjoyed his company. Somehow accepting these things made her heart feel light.

  She sighed. "I admit we are still friends, but only if you promise not to neck with your lady friend in my castle anymore."

  "Your castle?" Gregory spluttered, a rosy tint warming his cheeks. "See, this is what I meant about your overconfidence—"

  She smacked him a good one, and they moved back into the warm chatter of the great hall. Ignoring the too-familiar hunting murals and almost forgetting about the approaching Council judgment, Ember allowed herself a bite to eat with her friend and enough drinks where sleep was a comforting possibility.

  chapter fourty-two

  "Ember?"

  The voice sounded so familiar, but so quiet, that Ember nearly tripped over her gown as she turned before the wide wooden doors of the great hall.

  "Finn."

  Her brother stood at a lanky height, sullen beneath his mop of freshly washed hair. He wore simple brown riding clothes, and his hands looked bare without his violin. Hazel eyes gazed at the ground.

  "I just wanted to tell you that I'm leaving today."

  Ember stared at him, the stays on her gown squeezing her chest. "To Edlen? For how long?"

  "Devondra and I are traveling back with Lady Rina after your judgment. Devondra's doing." Finn managed a weak smile, and his eyes flitted up to her before casting around her dress and toward the doors. "Mother is letting me go, but I will be tested when I get back. For lordship."

  Ember's heart, already weighed down by his subdued demeanor and harrowed face, sank further. "Oh, Finn..."

  "We will lose the castle, you see, now that Father is dead." His hands clenched, and his brows drew together, making his face look less boyish. "I don't care about the castle. It's for Mother's sake. What will she do now?"

  Ember shook her head, eyes burning. "I'm not sure, Finn. I'm so sorry..." Again, the words sounded silly and fickle. He had gotten his wish to go to Edlen, yes, but now that the test for lordship was approaching... Finn had always dreamed of becoming a musician. He had thought—perhaps they all had thought—that Arundel would've given up on making him something he didn't want to be.

  But Arundel never gave up on anything. And now he was gone and their mother was taking his place.

  "But Dev or I," Ember said, scrambling to think of a way out but only coming up with Eawart's proposal, which she found herself seriously considering for the first time, "we could marry and she could come live with us—"

  Finn shook his head. "She wants to stay here, Ember. I don't know why. The gardens, I guess."

  Ember rubbed her hands over her face, too late remembering the Glamours there. She had wanted to look her best for the Council. "We will think of something, Finn. Maybe lordship won't be so bad—"

  "Do you realize whose shoes I'd be filling?" His voice rose in accusation.

  Ember looked down and worked the tightness from her throat. "I do, Finn. And I'm sorry. And as your sister, I will do whatever I can to make things better."

  Finn's shaggy head was shaking. "I don't know if that's enough," he said in a strained voice.

  Ember nodded. She didn't expect him to understand her actions. Likely, he never would. "You are my brother," she stated. Had some of the tension released, just there on his shoulders? "I love you, and I believe in you. You would be replacing Arundel, but I know you, and I know you would do so much better than he ever did. You could help the Council progress. Expand. Perhaps they would even help fund a musical academy," Ember added, digging through what she knew of the Council. "Lady Rina in particular might support such a mission. They would be inspired by your passion, Finn."

  A familiar light entered Finn's expression. The normal Finn, ready for adventure and brimming with positive energy. She knew her idea had sparked something inside him.

  He nodded soberly. "I will consider these things. Goodbye, Ember." He stepped forward and bent as if to kiss her cheek. At the last minute, he frowned and jerked back, as though remembering what she was.

  Ember didn't miss the strange look in his eyes. Fear.

  Her stomach knotted, and she longed to throw her arms around his bony shoulders to reassure him that it was her, the same old Ember, and that she would never hurt him.

  Instead, she watched him turn away, and the darkness tightened its grip around her heart.

  Finn halted, and turned back, his gaze bright. "It was you, wasn't it? That day in the smelter. When he threw my violin into the fire... When he threatened to…" He held up a hand.

  Ember nodded, unable to speak. That had been a long time ago, but the way Finn rubbed his hand now, she knew the memory had clung to him like a squelkin to flesh.

  "Thank you," he said. His throat worked. "Sister."

  Ember smiled. "Anytime, brother. Safe travels."

  Finn's head bobbed, and he sauntered away.

  Ember shook herself and tucked a seed of hope deep inside. She needed to protect it from whatever happened next.

  She turned to the large wooden doors and nodded at the servants to open them. Pressing the weariness from her shoulders, she straightened her back and sucked in as big a breath as she could manage with the tight stays, and stepped into the great hall.

  Lit by the late morning, the air in the hall had warmed to stifling and clung to her face and arms like wet mud. She ignored the moving murals on the walls. Sweat prickled along her nape as she faced the Council.

  An assemblage of brilliant colors mixed with dull browns spread before her, each in their own iron throne. Lord Thurstun's sumptuous body, lathered in scarlet robes, spilled out of his seat, and gilded sashes fanned out over the dais steps. Lady Rina's dark hair coiled high against the back of her throne, bones and teeth dangling from head and robes in the Zarian fashion. Lord Wincel, clad mostly in rabbit-lined garments, looked shrunken with his stooped back and baggy face. Lady Dell perched regal as always in her white and yellow silks, religious devotion stiffening her expression as she wafted a papery sun-painted fan. Strapping Lord Histion wore his pearls, starfish, and coral pieces over pants and jerkin made of sea-squelkin. Lady Ashlin and Lord Jeriel looked as dull and dusty as ever, and each of them carried hard expressions.

  Ember, perhaps more than any of them, felt Arundel's distinct absence.

  "Ember Thackeray," Lord Thurstun boomed, his stomach jerking under red robes.

  Ember smoothed palms down her simple blue gown and bent into a slight curtsy. Did they not know who she really was? That Arundel Thackeray wasn't her real father?

  "Today your fate will be judged by the Council, for committing the murder of Lord Arundel," Lord Thurstun's beady eyes shot to Lady Dell before he muttered, "...may Yat
he accept him with open arms."

  The others echoed the phrase, some with less enthusiasm than others.

  Lord Thurstun carried on. "As there were no witnesses to his death other than you, we see fit to hear your explanation before passing judgment."

  Lord Thurstun tilted his head back, as though finished, and silence ensued.

  Ember opened her mouth, unsure of where to start. "Recently, I ran away from home," she said, her voice sounding small in the great room. She wondered if the Council would be patient enough to sit through the whole story. "I ran because my life was threatened by Arundel's assistant, Fletch—"

  "Who is also dead," Lady Dell interrupted with a snap of her fan and a quiet glare at Lord Thurstun. The huge man pretended not to hear a thing, and lifted a thick hand for Ember to continue.

  "I left because I was sure Fletch would kill me, or worse. I went to Orion thinking to escape, but Fletch followed me there, believing I was with others like myself—"

  "Shapeshifters," someone stated.

  Lord Thurston cast a glare in Lord Histion's direction. So they did know. Of course. Someone had come into the room full of cages when Ember had been busy with Kitt's spell. Her mother, she had thought, and a few others. Likely, the whole castle knew what she was by now.

  "Eventually he found me," Ember rushed on. Sweat had accumulated under her arms. "And he took me back here. He had a friend of mine who I had met in Orion. I am certain that the spell Fletch used to keep him from shifting was created by Arundel. They worked together often. Soon upon returning Fletch took my friend away. I searched for him—"

  "And did Arundel not question your whereabouts?" Lady Dell put in, her face pink and sweat glistening on her taut upper lip.

  "Let the girl speak!" Lord Thurstun raised a fist and hammered it into the armrest of his seat. The Council-members winced, and Lady Dell's fan flew faster.

  Ember swallowed and focused on forming her words. "The hidden room I found was filled with cages. In each cage was a shapeshifter bound to animal form," Ember explained.

  A gasp, perhaps from Lady Rina, and a slight shake of the head from Lord Wincel. Lord Thurstun looked mutinous, and Lady Dell's fan snapped against the air with its speed.

  "He took me there and bound me to a wall," Ember went on as anger and fear crawled back from the memories. "My friend, caged as a cougar, was brought there as well..."

  Ember told the rest of the story, giving as few details as possible. They might decide to hang her, or perhaps burn her, but if they believed she was Lord Arundel's daughter, she might get them to agree to excommunication. That way, she could go back to Orion. They could make a town, create a more secure space if the Council decided they still didn't want shifters in Lach.

  And if they are still alive in Orion. She willed them to be alive with all her might.

  "...and I bit him," Ember finished. She wouldn't tell them of the way Arundel writhed on the floor, nor of his last spoken word. Salena. The familiar darkness squeezed around her chest.

  Lord Thurstun blinked at her. "And he died from the venom?"

  "Yes your lordship." She hesitated, then added, "I knew that if I didn't kill him, he would kill me."

  Lord Thurstun's eyebrows lifted. "Self-defense?" A heavy nod. "Rightly so. We discussed the matter of his death and the existence of the faction at some length."

  Ember's heart thumped painfully. But how did they—?

  "Yes," Lord Thurstun said, "we already knew about the faction. In fact, Salena told us months ago about it. She had been in contact with Ryscford Seago, the faction's leader, for some time before they suddenly lost contact. We had all grown weary of Arundel's ploys to send out patrols, but we didn't have a way to stop him. He didn't need our gold, and he didn't need our agreement to do what he wanted. Had you not killed him, we would have removed him from the Council and punished him according to law for using spell-work to torture others."

  Except that you wouldn't have found out about the spell-work because you never cared enough to investigate him. Ember remained silent while Lord Thurstun continued.

  "Your mother did a very good job convincing us of the need for shifters in our country, as spies, or other servants of the Council. Now that Arundel is gone, the faction may return to Lach to work for the country—"

  "No."

  The Council gawked at Ember, struck silent.

  Sweat sprang over her palms. She steeled her voice. "The faction will not return to be forced into work. They should be able to lead normal lives, just as others in Lach. If they were payed for their services, if the laws were changed to prevent cruel treatment, and more severe punishment of the use of spells to control them, they might consider it, but not otherwise."

  "Do you want a worse judgment, child?" Lord Wincel asked in a reedy voice.

  Ember raised her chin. "Do to me what you will. I was protecting myself and my friend. But I am certain that your judgment today will impact the faction's decisions about returning. And the laws will need to be revised."

  The Council-members shifted in their seats and muttered indecisively to each other.

  "If they are still alive," Ember added.

  Lord Thurstun turned to her with a quirked brow.

  "They are alive and well. The patrolmen were captured."

  Together, Ember and the Council shifted their attention to the wooden doors of the great hall, where a slender young man stood bare-chested in a deer-hide skirt. Linens wrapped limbs and torso, and on one covered arm perched Norman.

  Ember's chest expanded. "Kitt," she whispered, unable to stop a grin. She repressed the urge to run and hug him.

  Kitt, looking pale and in pain but stubborn, gave her a grim smile and limped forward, handing her a piece of parchment.

  The letter was from Seabird, but she didn't want to read it now. Knowing the others were alive was enough, and knowing Kitt was...well, Kitt, had her nerves jumping all over the place and the sweat returning to her palms.

  "Council," said Kitt, limping into the room. "Although I was in cougar form at the time, I witnessed this lady's actions and can testify that she acted in self-defense."

  The muttering among the Council-members increased before Kitt cut them off.

  "I would like to add to her statements about changing the laws. It has come to my attention that if shifters will be allowed to return and thrive, that a school must be put in place for them. There are many orphans from the rebellion, and they will need someone to teach them about being a shifter, and," Kitt paused to be sure they listened, "to live peacefully as civilians of Lach."

  Ember stared. Who was this Kitt standing before her, speaking to the Council without his usual hatred of wizards? He not only speaks, but convinces them, Ember realized, watching as Lord Thurstun's large head bobbed once. Several others echoed his agreement.

  "A fine idea, lad," Lord Thurstun boomed. His brows dug down to form a divot. "But where do you propose to build this school? Certainly not as part of the Academy?"

  "My name is Kitt Shearwater, lordship. If the laws change so that shifters may own land, my return to the country means that I will have inherited an estate from my parents. My grandmother legally owned the estate, as she was not a shapeshifter. Since my disappearance with my parents at a young age, I believe my only cousin, Eawart Shearwater, is the current owner. However, I am sure that he and I can work something out..."

  Ember couldn't stop her laughter from bubbling up and out of her like a spring of water. Perhaps because she felt light-headed, or perhaps because her skin tingled, she sat, crumpling her gown and not caring even a little that the Council stared at her open-mouthed.

  A moment later, the laughter faded. She cleared her throat.

  "We still have your fate to think over, girl," Lady Dell stated.

  "There is one other matter," Kitt said, after casting a look of concern at Ember.

  Lord Thurstun waved a hand for him to continue.

  "A patrol, which I believe belonged to Arundel, burne
d one of the Orion villages to the ground. I don't know how many Orians they killed, or what was taken."

  The Council shifted. "What evidence do you have that the patrol belonged to Arundel?" Lord Thurstun asked.

  Ember knew Kitt would have no evidence beyond his own gut feeling. "Grey fletching," Ember announced, "on the arrows they used to kill the villagers." Only Arundel used fletching the shade of welded iron.

  Kitt's jaw clenched. He'll see it as another lie from me, that I never told him I knew.

  "I believe Arundel was trying to acquire more mining land," Ember went on. "Orians never give up their land easily."

  Arundel himself had taught her that.

  Lord Thurstun's sheening face nodded. Was he thinking of Arundel's bribes? Realizing that they had all likely been stolen from murdered clans?

  "This is important information," he said. "We certainly don't wish to rouse the clans into war. Now, we must make a decision."

  They muttered amongst themselves for a long while, and finally Lord Thurstun relaxed back in his chair, dark circles of sweat spreading under his arms and forming a crescent above his great belly.

  “Kitt Shearwater, I am glad you were able to join us at this meeting. We received some disconcerting stories from wizards this morning upon our arrival. They witnessed you, as a cougar, slaughtering their patrol. Do you deny this?”

  The Council glared at him, and Ember felt the blood drain from her face.

  “No,” Kitt said. “I admit that I killed several wizards.”

  “And do you admit that you killed these men and women out of bloodlust? Or do you wish to plead self-defense?”

  “I admit I was mad at the time. I killed out of anger,” Kitt said in a heavy tone. His tired face didn’t look at her.

  “No!” Ember stated, hauling herself to her feet. “He was protecting me from—”

  “Silence!” Lord Thurstun bellowed, his eyes glints of ice. “We have numerous accounts that say the same thing. Ember was not in danger at that time, and Kitt deliberately killed wizards.”