Chapter 6 - section 3

I couldn’t stay my contrary reaction to Garrett’s high-handed offer. “Brawn and bullying aren’t all there is to running a kingdom, Garrett. And those who swear to you are the most likely to plunge a dagger in your back.”

I could feel Yves’ glare although I didn’t turn back to look at him. Garrett, on the other hand, started to stare me down after the tell-tale shift of his glance towards the dagger on the floor and the tightening at his jaw. A surge of triumph surged through me for the briefest instant to have evoked that kind of reaction in the jerk and I turned towards the window, unwilling to humor his defiant game.

“Thinking of throwing your name in for rulership, half-sister?” Garrett smirked. The derision virtually oozed from his words and the pause before he said the word sister made it all too clear he was reminding me of my “tainted” blood.

I sobered quickly, shaking my head. “I just want to find Vicky.” I almost added Dad to the end of my reply, but I stopped myself. Time wasn’t even up yet and our brothers were lining up to destroy one another. There was a chance that Dad was still alive and while it might be clinging to a futile hope, it was still a hope and a chance at not having to watch any of my siblings laid into the ground.

It wasn’t the first time that I was glad ballistics were untenable here. But that only served to make methods more creative. And more personal. If I could bring Dad back, the fighting would halt, though. None of our brothers were so greedy as to depose their own father. None of them were powerful enough. The key was finding him, if he was still alive.

Garret scowled, his anger unleashing in a wave of violent energy. It was the psychic equivalent of a boy’s tantrum, but I welcomed it, even as I flung up my mental guards. I heard Eva gasp like she had been socked in the stomach and she bent over, coughing. She always was sensitive. Yves and Rhynn reeled, stumbling back against the walls and away from the blast. I stood my ground, letting it wash over me as I glared back. This was fuel to my own fires and far preferable to my own sense of fear, impotence and pain. I wallowed in the onslaught, gritting my teeth and keeping my shields just strong enough to maintain control.

Growling his frustration with my strength, Garret ordered Rhynn and Yves to help him search the castle for “the other half-wit human spawn.” He wheeled around and stormed from the room. Like most bullies, nothing upset him more than having someone stand up to him. I clung to the remnants of his energy, dropping my shields as it faded with his departure.

Yves and Rhynn were slower to follow. The first paused to inspect his gasping twin with concern until she waved him away. The latter gazed at me, shame overwhelming his worry.

“Tara, I’m sorry. I should have…”

I cut him off with the force of the anger I still clung to like a branch to pull myself out of the quicksand of cold despair. “Get out!”

Rhynn stared at me, wilting under my glare. He looked so old and haggard that I almost regretted my harsh words. I almost apologized and tried to call him back as he turned and shuffled out the door. Almost. Instant forgiveness was not in order, however, as he could have told me all of this when he had taken me to my room before. He had betrayed me. He had broken my trust and it would take time to repair the relationship between us. Now was not the time to deal with it.

Once the men had gone, I turned to look at Eva, concerned. She gasped, still heaving for air. I was still feeding off of the anger as I approached her and my words came out with the harshness of ire although the meaning was one of reproach. “How can you join him? He’ll keep you pinned under his ugly, bullying thumb.”

“I have little choice,” Eva murmured between heavy breaths. She lifted her head and I paused, catching sight of the unbridled hatred that turned her silver eyes to ice. “Yves thinks he’s our best chance at survival.”

I frowned. I had never seen Eva so upset, nor so determined. “And you? What do you think, Eva?”

Eva shook her head and stepped forward, reaching for my bloodstained hand with both of hers. Confused, I let her take it. Her smooth hands enveloped mine with their warmth and a small rough bit of parchment passed firmly into mine. “Find them,” she whispered. She released my hand and before I could even breathe, she ran from the room, graceful and fast as a doe.

I stared at the door after her in complete perplexity. Them? Did she mean Vicky and the sword? Or Vicky and Dad? Or Dad and the sword? I hate ambiguity and I started towards the door after her, but when I got to the hall and poked my head out, she was already gone. One of the guards was passing, though, and gave me a respectful nod. I ducked back into Vicky’s rooms and scowled. At the best of times puzzles like that drove me mad and I certainly couldn’t label current events as the golden age of Tara.

Claiming a chair, I uncrumpled the slip of paper and smoothed it out against my thigh. It was from a book, not one that I recognized. One side was a confusing partial passage dealing with some stone that I couldn’t make sense of based on its fragmented condition, but the other side showed a drawing of a crude sword and contained at least a portion of neat writing on the topic. It was labeled “The Bloodsword.” More interesting still was the scribbled writing in the margin. A fluid hand, possibly Eva’s, had written, “South road – into circle. Glim. Find Michael the Silent.”

I grunted with a furrowed brow. How could someone with a moniker like that be of much use? Still, it was something more than I had to go on otherwise. Eva’s hatred towards Garrett was a surprise, but I couldn’t doubt the veracity of that emotion. He had turned her against him in a fashion far more complete and harsher than my own distaste for him. Part of me wondered how he had managed to alienate our peaceful sister, but that was too much to dwell upon right now. Finding Dad and Vicky, or failing them, the sword was my list of priorities; family politics could wait. She had said “them.” I reasoned that provided at least the possibility this Michael might know about more than just the sword

There was still that faint concern that just because Eva and Garrett were estranged, it didn’t necessarily follow that she was then automatically on my side. But this slip of paper and the margin notes along with her plea were the only clues I had been given. They were a form of help. Right now, I couldn’t afford to turn down any aid, however questionable the source.

I was about to leave the room when I remembered the dagger on the floor. I didn’t want to leave it there. In fact, I didn’t want to leave it where anyone else could get to it. That strange design, the fact it had been used on such a strange attack and possibly murder; I wanted to find a safe place to hide it since I couldn’t take it with me. I had a hunch that it might come in useful at some point. Even if it didn’t, there was no harm in stashing it somewhere where the assailant wouldn’t know to find it again.

I turned back, bending down with a rustle of skirts and a low groan. The fuel of Garrett’s anger had depleted completely by now and the movement stung my shoulder. I carefully pried the weapon from the rug. Rising again with an effort, I looked down at the blood on my gown. I decided that it really couldn’t get worse and wiped the dagger off on the fabric as best I could. Perhaps I could raid a brother’s wardrobe before I glimmered away.

Chapter 6 - sections 1 & 2

I bypassed a few servants on my way through the kitchen, barely acknowledging them as they nodded and respectfully backed out of my way. I turned through the cozy passage that led to the stairway on the opposite side of the large pantry and started up the curving stone steps. My nerves were jangling although I heard nobody following after, nor murmur of greetings from the servants to anyone else as I sped past. My leather shoes made little noise on the plush padding of carpet on the stone, but my skirts shushed noisily to my wary ears.

At the top of the stairs, I took a sharp turn and without knocking, shoved Vicky’s sitting room door open and entered without care for her possible desire of privacy. If she was there, she had a lot of explaining to do to me. Concern mingled with my general irritation over her antics. Most of this mess could be directly attributed to her. On the other hand, Garrett sounded like he was gunning for her and however Vicky managed to upset me, she was still my full blooded sister and ally.

My head swiveled as I scoured the room. Signs of her occupancy were strewn everywhere: partial outfits in decadent fabric had been tossed across the chairs and loveseat. I stepped over a silk sash balled up on the ground and frowned. In spite of the whirlwind of her passing, nobody was here. I paused only long enough to listen – no noise. The silence was deafening.

Quiet in a room that ought to have someone present is ten times more oppressive than silence has any right to be. There was no sense of peace or calm in this silence. It assaulted my eardrums like a gong pounding just beyond the normal realm of hearing, causing my already frayed nerves to scream at the wrongness. I strode through my foreboding to the bedroom door which was closed but not secured, only cracked open.

I stormed through the door in a burst, breath drawn ready to bellow, but halted, the air in my lungs escaping in a horrified gasping rush of noiseless choking. Vicky had been in the bed: the covers were rumpled and flung back underneath the congealing coating they had acquired. Breathless, the room spinning, I reached out to pry the slender jeweled dagger from the spreading puddle of sticky warm blood that was seeping into the fine weave of her sheets. The sight of the individual crossed strands on the edges slowly soaking up the liquid, swelling with dark color and fading into the next was a vision that was burning into my mind as harshly as the lack of air was branding my lungs. So much blood. And no Vicky. There was no sign of life in the room beyond the mess on the bed.

Gasping in air, I circled the bed to check behind it. Fortunately the verification was futile. There was no body. There was nobody. My gaze dropped to the filigreed handle, sticky in my hand. The hilt was intricately designed into the form of coupling dragons, white and black, intertwined and studded with emeralds and rubies for eyes. As if from a great distance, I could hear someone screaming. It was only as I backed towards the door, my stomach heaving at the heady metallic scent of blood that I retched and the noise stopped. I realized the screaming must have been my own.

I stumbled out of the room and more or less fell into a chair, gagging as I tried to suck in fresh air and calm my treacherous stomach. I couldn’t look away from the dagger that had pierced my sister’s flesh, her blood vivid on my skin. I don’t know how long I sat there, shaking and waiting for our siblings to arrive.

I didn’t have long to wait. Yves charged in first and his grey eyes grew wide as he saw me, the dagger and the blood all at once. He stopped short, looking me over in assessment, his eyes growing dark. “Are you all right?” he queried as his gaze darted towards the still open bedroom door. “Who did this? Where?”

His voice grew more strident and angry as he demanded the questions of me, but I could barely speak. “Vicky,” I croaked in response and waved towards the door, stricken. Without another word, Yves followed my direction and crossed into the bedroom to see for himself what had passed.

Some distant and still logical part of my mind felt a tinge of relief as I realized that Yves simply wasn’t this good an actor. He was honestly surprised and upset. He even seemed angry through his apparent fear. They couldn’t have done this. Or if they had, it was Garrett alone. It wasn’t Yves or Eva; a small relief when Vicky’s status was completely unknown, but it was something. That part of me that wasn’t shaking and trying to cope with the recognition of the violence afforded my sister clung to the realization with an iron grip.

If it wasn’t them, though, who could it have been? Someone may have been here all along. Maybe she had truly been abducted before and her assailant accompanied her here, seeking entrance to the castle? My mind hummed with the scenarios, each more outlandish than the last. It was better than thinking about the blood which I still saw, no matter where my eyes landed.

Yves returned just as Garrett, Eva and Rhynn arrived. Eva’s pretty brow was creased with worry, but Garrett looked as cool and calculating as ever. Garret shot Yves a silent look of query. His knuckles as white as his face where he gripped his sleeve, Yves shook his head in response, apparently as shaken as I. We had all seen blood in our lives, but this sort of unexpected violence to one of our own, it was daunting.

Speaking over each other, Rhynn looked from Yves to me, querying why I had screamed while Yves answered Garrett’s look. “She’s gone and there’s blood everywhere. I don’t know if she could survive it.”

With some sudden half-formed notion of trying to track Vicky down and help her, I tried to push up from my chair. The movement caused a sharp pain to shoot from the center of my ribcage to my neck and I groaned, sat back and dropped the weapon from my hand. The metal hit the carpet with a dull thud. Blood smeared, staining a blue flower to rust on the floor.

Eva’s eyes locked onto the blade as Rhynn reached to try to help me, concerned. Horror colored Eva’s silvery whisper as she fearfully queried, “Tara, what did you do?”

I blinked in disbelief at Eva. It had never once occurred to me that any one of them might think to blame me for this. I opened my mouth to respond and no words came to my tongue as I looked from Eva to the others and saw all of them staring at me: Yves with confused anger, Rhynn with concern, Garrett with cold appraisal. Silence reigned.

“Me?” I finally managed to gulp out. “I overheard – I thought that one of you might try something – I came to warn her. But this. I didn’t expect this. Not this.” I shook my head. I felt trapped in some kind of ridiculous nightmare. How could anyone believe this of me? I had been attacked and hurt. Vicky had been attacked and hurt, maybe killed. And now my siblings were blaming me? Where was Dad? Why hadn’t he put a halt to all of this? He was the one who usually protected us, who understood and stopped these things from going too far.

I frowned, a sudden realization striking me as I took a second look around the occupants of the room. My three half-siblings, Rhynn, all of the family who were usually here were present, except for one.

“Where is Dad?”

Garrett and Rhynn stole glances at each other. The first looked adamant, the second swallowed nervously at my question. Yves glanced at Garrett and looked quickly away from all of us. Eva avoided eye contact from everyone, taking a sudden interest in the sitting room windows. The silence renewed itself with a vengeance, filling the room to stand between us all; an unwelcome and volatile guest who none were comfortable addressing.

Yves fidgeted with his sleeves and Rhynn hesitantly cleared his throat, although that did nothing to clear the malevolent discomfort filling the room. Garrett glared at Rhynn who faltered into silence again. I continued to wait, anger starting to push through my shock. Let them feel uncomfortable. Something was wrong and they were all trying to keep it from me.

Under my gimlet stare, Rhynn finally reluctantly offered in a quavering voice, braving Garrett’s open disapproval; “It’s the reason for the meeting. I was going to explain, once you felt well enough. I called you…”

I cut off Rhynn’s wavering explanation as my ire fired up to take control, shuttering off fear and horror into a mental compartment where they could jibber and quake until later. “Vicky might be dead. I’ve been injured. Where the hell is Dad?” I rose from my seat accusingly, the pain in my shoulder a small thing compared to the fury brewing in my gut.

Rhynn looked alarmed as I stood and took a step back and away. I followed, stepping over the dagger to advance upon him. Looking tired and old as he fell back under my insistent glare he weakly offered, “That’s just it, Tara, it all happened so fast.”

I grated out each word, the danger of each one penned into individual sentences, lest the weight of them all together create an attack so devastating that they would destroy a response before it came to my ears. “Where.”

With each word I strode another determined and insistent step. “Is.”

Control. I had to control myself lest I harm anyone unduly. I needed to know. This was important. This was more important than the assassin. This was more important than Vicky’s assailant. I had to know. “Dad?”

My determination had even Garrett looking nervous and he stepped into the remaining space between Rhynn and me, protecting the old man’s body with his bulky shield of flesh. Garrett’s baritone was still calm, in spite of the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “We don’t know. We think he may be dead.” He raised his large hands as if to head me off, but my reaction wasn’t what he anticipated.

I sagged in place, feeling quite literally like a rug had been pulled out from under me. I was off-balanced and could barely remain upright. Dead. Dad was dead? How could I not have known? Shouldn’t I have felt it or somehow known? What good was being part fey if you couldn’t figure these things out on your own? I wanted to burst into tears and scream and collapse all at once, but I managed to remain upright, if barely. I turned away from the pair, shaking my head.

Dad was our protection in so many ways. How could he be gone? I swayed in place, my fire quenched as quickly as it had come and I looked around at the others, emptiness threatening to consume me as quickly as it had extinguished my flame in the unending vacuum of misery. All of them looked uncomfortable, except for Garrett and only he met my bewildered and searching gaze.

“How? Why aren’t you certain?” I demanded flatly.

Hearing my voice, Rhynn realized that the danger had passed and he rounded Garrett to try to guide me back to a seat. I shook him off. He had betrayed me by omission. I didn’t want his help. “A letter was found,” Rhynn explained. His concern didn’t mask the grim set to his craggy features.

“The Shadow Demesnes. A request for a duel. I tried to get him to take a host, but he laughed at me, the way he would when I gave foolish strategy,” Garrett interjected. “You know how Dad was when he had a plan.”

I scowled, trying to think straight. The Shadow Demesnes are another world, not exactly like the Mistlands, but similar. There are connections. I never was keen on the politics or histories of the two. The only thing I knew for certain was that there had long been a rivalry. Those of the Shadows had a tendency to be more predatory and I knew that they had more than once sought to conquer Dad’s realm within the Mistlands. Always we had beaten them back, under Dad’s guidance.

“It isn’t like him to go without precautions, without a plan. It’s too obvious a trap. He went alone? How long ago?” I queried.

Garrett nodded grimly in response to my first question, but it was Yves who answered the latter, his tenor low and soft. “Eleven months ago. An attempt at searching was made, but they caught Garrett and overwhelmed him.”

“They laughed when I asked about Dad and suggested we start readying the castle for them,” Garrett spat out, grimacing at the memory of his failure.

I closed my eyes, pained. None of this was making sense. Vicky. Dad. I shook my head, trying to sift through my emotions in search of logical reasoning. At the sound of a quiet murmuring, I opened my eyes to see Rhynn at the door of the sitting room, speaking to a servant about mustering the guards to search the castle for Vicky or any intruder. I almost spoke up to mention Tristam’s appearance before, but I stopped myself before speaking. I don’t know why I wanted to trust him, but I did. Maybe because everything else was falling apart and I felt like I had to trust someone.

Instead, I turned to Garrrett and asked, “What does this mean for the realm?” I hadn’t heard anything about Dad declaring an heir, but if the Shadow Demesnes were intending a full scale war, someone would have to lead the Mistlands in the fight. And just because I hadn’t heard anything didn’t mean it hadn’t happened. It just meant that I wasn’t the one he had chosen. At least, that was the assumption I was operating under.

Tradition dictates that fey thrones pass by right of conquest, not blood heredity alone, but although Dad permitted sibling rivalry he was unusually progressive and understanding of human ways. He had always drawn the line at seeing his children killing one another off and although the fights between Garrett and Cullen particularly had been violent episodes, they had never been more than our strength and recuperation could handle.

Yet again, however, I had asked the wrong question, for a void of discomfort was the only response I received until Rhynn had concluded his hushed conference with the servant. Yves and Garrett seemed to be communicating silently, staring at each other, but not at me. Eva turned from the window and slowly made her way to the dagger on the floor, looking down at it, her delicate jaw clenched and taut. I could see the muscles in her throat and shoulders drawn tightly in tension.

As Rhynn turned back into the room, Garrett commanded of him, “Tell her.”

An expression of pure misery slowly swept across Rhynn’s worn features. His voice was low and gravelly as he spoke, watery eyes upon me. “Among your father’s effects, no heir has been named, but an edict provides for the course of action should he have fallen or been taken captive and absent for a year’s time. It follows the old traditions. The first living child who finds and possesses the Bloodsword shall have the strength to hold the throne against all foes, be they siblings or other. The power it brings will secure the kingdom.”

My jaw must have dropped because I snapped it closed. “This is ridiculous! It pits us all against each other. First living child – it encourages us to kill one another!” I slowly looked at my siblings. Yves frowned guiltily. Eva looked up to meet my gaze beseechingly in silence.

Garrett, however, stepped forward with a condescending reassurance. “Don’t be so melodramatic. It’s tradition. So long as you bow to the strongest, I see no reason to kill you all.”

Chapter 5 - section 4

Dressing myself was a slow and painful process. Local convention required layers upon layers, not dissimilar to medieval fashion. As I struggled to tie up the corset that belonged under the dress I had pulled out, I cursed whatever male had contrived of such female torture devices. It wasn’t as painful as a bra might have been across my shoulder, but it was no sinecure either. It made me yet again wonder about the sanity of Renaissance Faire aficionados. This kind of clothing was not designed for comfort or ease of motion, never mind the fact that the layers tended to make any full-figured female look dumpy. What I wouldn’t give for a comfortable pair of jeans!

The amethyst-hued overdress was a little easier to manipulate into place, although not by much. Checking in the mirror, I deemed myself mostly presentable, tied my curls into a knot and fixed it with a comb, even though I knew full well that it wouldn’t be long before they escaped: my hair had an independence that rivaled my own. Satisfied, I eased out of the room to head back towards the dining hall in order to sate my stomach.

I paused at the head of the stairs leading down. Initially, my break was solely to catch my breath, since the pain from my shoulder throbbed viciously. As I drew in air, however, the sound of muffled voices encouraged me to linger a moment longer. I turned, ascertaining the noises came from the nearby library door.

“Has Rhynn told her yet?”

“I don’t think so. He didn’t want to upset her in her condition.”

Had it been anyone but my half-brothers, I might have thought twice about eavesdropping, but it was fairly clear that I was the subject of discussion and my childhood training reasserted itself with a vengeance. We might not hail from the fey lines known for ruling by survival, but in dealing with siblings, any edge you could find was useful in the games of manipulation. It wasn’t pretty, but it was family.

In an effort to hear the conversation a little better, I edged back and towards the door. I also took the effort to raise my mental guards while letting them broadcast an inconspicuous “nobody here” vibe, just in case any of their senses were sensitive to do more than discover the telltale fey warning – and there was nothing I could do about that, but hope that within the castle, it would be a common enough occurrence that it wouldn’t set off any mental alarms.

“Was Vicky able to explain how Tara managed to arrive in the castle walls?”

The dulcet feminine tone had to be Eva. Relief warred with unease. If Vicky was here, she was safe and my concerns of before could be set aside. It meant that Cullen was the only real issue I had to worry about. Cullen and whatever Rhynn hadn’t told me. The rest of the family certainly seemed up to something. And Rhynn was holding back from me. That in itself was disturbing, since I relied on his support more than those conversing. I trusted Rhynn. Even if his intentions were good, I wasn’t pleased with his reticence given the wealth of mysteries presenting itself to me.

Yves' voice rose distinctively in response to his twin; “Not a damned word. She knows, though.”

This left Garrett as the other male voice whose low tones I now strained to hear. “Tara’s got the power to be an obstacle, but Vicky’s got the ambition.”

Bless Eva, she sounded angry at this judgment. “You’re not about to try anything with Tara, are you?”

“No. She’s pissed off someone else. Besides, with Cullen after her, she’s can’t pose a serious threat and she can be used to keep him busy.”

I clenched a fist, trying not to breathe while I listened. So Cullen and Garret really were at each other’s throats. Yves was supporting Garret, and Eva was probably supporting him. Really, this was no surprise. Yves had the strength of magic to take on any one of us, but he wasn’t keen on anything that required too much effort or discomfort. And Eva usually followed where her twin led. That the twins shared a mother with Garrett and all three were older than the rest of us meant that they usually did flock together when conflict divided us.

Eva was the one who could sometimes be drawn out for information, though. She was softer than her brothers and even as a full-blood, she was weaker in most of the powers than me. As long as her loyalty to Yves wasn’t called into question, I might be able to get her to shed some light on all that was happening. She might be even easier to drag it out of than Vicky would be. Vicky was here and she knew enough that Garrett considered her a threat. Angry as I was at her disappearance and relieved at her return, my damnable sense of responsibility nudged me to warn her. Yet, I hesitated, hoping to learn more.

“Tara’s got help, though. You know that. Do you think she knows more than she’s letting on?” Yves’ voice was almost hopeful, the bastard. It sounded like he wanted Garrett to come after me.

Fortunately, Garrett seemed to notice the angle and responded with command. “No. She’s clueless. I don’t know how she managed to get into…” he cut off abruptly as Eva hissed a sudden warning.

“I feel someone.” I mentally cursed and raised my guards as high as I could. As quickly as I was capable, I shuffled towards the stairs. I made it down and out of sight before I thought I heard the door. I didn’t slow, however.

As I rushed the best I could in my wounded and breathless state towards the dining hall, I reflected that I had pushed my luck once I knew Eva was there. She might be the weakest of us in pure power and strength, but when it came to sensitivity, she was the best of us. It was a huge risk to have listened at all with her in the room. It was a good bet that it was part of the reason why Garrett included her in so much. At the same time, I had learned more from that eavesdropping session than I had garnered from anyone who actually spoke to me since I woke up in that guest room.

My course of action was clear; food first, then find and throttle Vicky, and then find Dad. He had always permitted a certain amount of power-testing among us – it was the fey way, after all – but Garrett’s scheming, Cullen’s army and the assassin sent for me meant that things might be getting a bit out of hand. Dad could put a limit on that.

I tugged on the bodice of my dress uncomfortably as I crossed the rushes strewn on the dining hall floor. I paid no heed to the tapestries on the wall, the ambient light from the massive windows or the tables cleaned and waiting the next meal. The room always felt cold and much larger when devoid of people. My attention was on the buffet laden with freshly baked breads, but something about my feet rustling the covering on the stone ground sounded louder than it ought. I turned, glancing back the way I had come as I reached out to snatch up a raisin-specked roll. Flour flaked delightfully from the baked good onto the table and the yeasty scent assailed my nostrils and made my stomach rumble insistently.

I chomped into the delight, still eyeing the hall for signs of pursuit from the victims of my illicit spying. I was so intent that the warm hand lowered onto my shoulder so familiarly from behind caused me to jump and instinctively lash out. Tristam caught my wrist in his opposite hand, releasing my shoulder. Amusement mixed with exasperation in his twinkling grey eyes.

“I thought I told you to stay in bed?”

I breathed out again, only then realizing that I had caught it at all. “You scared me!” I accused and then adding with realization, “You! The guards are looking for you and I need you to answer some questions.”

Tristam’s crooked smirk grew as he regarded me calmly and I was keenly aware of the warmth of his hand still clasped around my wrist. I jerked it back as he responded; “Ever a delightful ray of sunshine you are, Tara.”

I glowered, trying to focus on the discrepancies of what he had told me before and what I had learned since while holding back the surge of ire that his laughing gaze invoked. I almost didn’t process the complete and total lack of fey awareness through the tempting anger that I fought. “How did you bring me here? And why has nobody else seen you?”

I tried to stare him down. If he was human it would have been enough to charm him into frank answers, but he met my gaze with no sign of enthralling. Instead, that insolent smirk made me regret his quick reflexes a moment before. It would have been so delightful to land a good solid blow on his insolent cheek.

“I regret to tell you that I brought you here in a most undignified fashion, slung over my shoulder. And nobody has seen me because I didn’t want them to.” His quiet baritone was so calm and laced with amusement that I fumed.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it! How? How did you get past the protections? How did you get me inside the walls of the castle? And how did you even know to bring me here?” My voice rose with each question and I recognized the frustrated whine creeping into the heightened pitch and I broke off to halt it.

Tristam’s pause in thought gave me an opportunity to compose myself. I couldn’t figure out why he drove me to flustered frustration or how it could happen so quickly. If his tale was true, I owed him my life. Beyond that, I wanted to believe him. I wanted to like him. That is, I wanted to until he smirked. But when he spoke, it always seemed to ring true, but his tale seemed irreconcilable with the facts. His hesitation made me hope that his answer was honest. I really wanted it to be the truth.

“Every defense system, no matter how good has to have multiple ways in and out. If they didn’t, they could fail those that they’re meant to protect by turning a safe place into a death trap.”

He answered so seriously that I had no real choice but to consider this response. Dad was the sort of guy who liked hidden passages. We knew he had built several into the castle. Was it such a large leap to consider that he might have built the same sort of failsafe into the magical protections?

“You’d have to know the systems very well to be able to exploit them like that,” I responded, studying the handsome conundrum standing before me.

With that crooked smile, he said, “I told you the truth about this place belonging to a friend, Tara. Enough questions for now, though, sunshine. You’ve got to hurry if you want to catch your sister before they get in here.” Tristam waved towards the stairs behind me.

I turned, the very faintest shiver of awareness touching my senses as if he had orchestrated it. “How do you know…” my voice trailed into nothing as I turned back. Nobody was there and I felt like an idiot talking to myself. As effortlessly as if he had been a ghost or a figment of my imagination – both disturbing possibilities suddenly seeming quite possible – Tristam was gone. There had been no sound, no sense of movement, no waft of air or flickering from the corner of my eyes, he was simply not there, as if he had never been there at all.

The tingling of fey awareness was growing, however. Whatever Tristam was, he was right. I had to find Vicky and warn her before Garrett, Yves and Eva tried anything. Disconcerted still, I hurried towards the kitchen and the back stairs. They would place me closer to Vicky’s quarters and help me to avoid the trio if they were the ones approaching.

Chapter 5 - section 3

These weren’t my own quarters, but a chamber down the eastern wing reserved for guests. Needless to say, this was the part of the castle I was the least familiar with. It also explained some of Tristam’s irritating amusement; particularly if he realized who I was. He had to have known. Why else would he bring me to this place? And yet, I wondered, for there was such a distinctive lack of fey awareness from his presence.

Relieved at my safety, delighted to be here, I rushed through the door and down the hall. My intent was to find my father in order to tell him about Vicky and Cullen. I was so intent, in fact, that the wisdom of changing out of the nightgown I had been dressed in during my unconscious period didn’t occur to me until my precipitous journey had led me through the hall, down the stairs, past numerous servants and rooms and straight into an ongoing meal. At the shocked expressions, I curtailed my headlong flight, suddenly quite conscious of my dishabille and opted to try for humor, offering a cavalier smile. “Sorry I’m late. I hope you saved some for me?”

There were a few titters and far more disapproving stares from the finely dressed courtiers arrayed at the table. I was disappointed to note that the head of the table was empty, unset, and that Dad was nowhere in view. The solid bulk of my chestnut-haired half-sibling, Garrett was there at the right-hand seat, clearly doing his best to act as Dad’s proxy. His expression barely altered as he stared at me humorlessly. Across from him, the twins, Eva and Yves offered up faint grins: Eva’s honestly amused and Yves’s sardonic. The slender pair was as inseparable as they were similar in appearance, but their personalities were like night and day. Both had brown-gold curls, framing heart-shaped faces. Like many full-blooded fey, they were not only exquisite of feature, but with an innocence of expression that could be deceiving. For them both, this impression was like their smiles: Eva was as sweet as Yves was cunning. But it was the reaction of Rhynn, my father’s steward, that warmed my heart and helped me to forget my discomfort.

The grey-haired, craggy man whom I had known since I was a child rose and stretched out his arms in welcome. His florid nose and watery eyes made him appear older than I remembered, but as he approached and placed a sheltering arm across my back, he felt as sinewy and tough as I remembered. Rhynn had been in our father’s service for longer than I had been alive and he had always been a staid and stalwart presence that even we children could rely upon. I loved him and respected him, so I didn’t balk as he drew me away from the table in the direction of my own chambers.

“Tara,” he smiled, “food aplenty, but now that you’re up, we should get you dressed first.”

I grinned. “You want me properly attired so I don’t injure anyone’s delicate sensibilities?”

Rhynn didn’t smile back, but I caught the corners of his lips twitch and his eyes shone with suppressed mirth. No doubt he was considering the indignities I could visit upon Garrett given what appeared to be a formal meal. Even my appearance was bound to cause a stir of gossip, but Garrett’s lack of a sense of humor made him an ideal target in my eyes. Not to mention Garrett’s disapproval of my tainted blood only encouraged my spiteful jibes. Rhynn had plenty of memories of similar antics to draw upon, so I really couldn’t blame his amusement or his quick defusing of the situation

“It looks like almost everyone’s here early,” I commented as we moved slowly down the hall. I was paying the price for my earlier haste, because my shoulder throbbed with every step.

Rhynn nodded, solemnity creeping back in and making him look old and forlorn. “Everyone but Cullen and Vicky. And Sylvia, but she’s unlikely to show.” I nodded at that: Sylvia was the one half-sibling who came to the Mistlands less than I did. For her own reasons, she rarely left the sanctuary of her mother’s woods. “Your arrival certainly caused the greatest stir, however. You’ll have to explain, but it can wait for everyone.”

My brow furrowed with my frown. “Explain? There’s not much to tell. Didn’t Tristam give you the details when he brought me in?”

Rhynn’s guiding footsteps halted and I stopped as well. Silence fell like a curtain between us as we stared at one another. His confusion caused a chill to run from the base of my spine to the hairs on the back of my neck. Dizziness rolled around me and I heard a rushing in my ears -- the sound of my own blood? My face felt warm, but I couldn’t hide the quaver of my hand as Rhynn’s quietly spoken words seemed to echo in my ears. “Tara, nobody brought you here. You arrived on your own.”

I fought back against the discombobulation, holding onto Rhynn’s arm. I closed my eyes. That helped a little, the dizziness receded from my deep breath. I knew it was from pushing myself with the wound as much as the disclosure. I tried to smile reassuringly at Rhynn, although my mind was still racing. “I don’t understand. I was unconscious. I had been shot, how could I get myself in here?”

Apparently reassured, Rhynn resumed movement, his arm still around me as my protective escort. “You were unconscious and bloody from that wound, but the report from the drudge who found you was that he was cleaning the reeds from the dining hall. One moment you weren’t there. The next, you were lying on the ground, unconscious.”

I frowned, edging up the stairs with the older man’s guidance. My focus switched back and forth between the wide stone steps I ascended and Rhynn’s grim features. “Rhynn, be reasonable, nobody can glimmer like that. Not unconscious.”

Rhynn’s rheumy blue eyes were dark and concerned as he regarded me. “No, nobody can,” he agreed.

“So, what, you’re telling me I’ve done something impossible? And what about Tristam? He said that he brought me here.”

Rhynn’s concern abated not in the slightest as he shook his grey head in absolute negation. “Tara, calm down, there’s got to be a reasonable explanation. We’d hope you could supply it, but obviously whatever happened was possible. You’re here. You appeared inside the castle walls. By yourself.”

This alone was enough to give anyone pause. To glimmer to a direct location is incredibly difficult and I knew that I wasn’t anywhere near making it into the Mistlands from the place I had been shot. I had at least three more boundaries to go, possibly more. To glimmer inside the castle walls themselves should be impossible; Dad had built this castle himself with protections that went far beyond the guards on the walls. And to do it alone and unconscious? Unless I had been hallucinating, Tristam was both very real and very necessary to make all of this possible.

“I don’t understand.” I shrugged free of Rhynn’s helping arm at my chamber door, my frustration at a lack of comprehension transferring to a frustration I could control: being led along like an invalid. “Tristam was there with me when I woke. Where is he staying? We need to have him answer some of these questions, even if he wasn’t the savior he wished me to believe him.”

Rhynn’s frown caused his lips to almost disappear in the lines creasing his worn skin. “Tara, I don’t know who you’re talking about. There’s nobody named Tristam among the staff and the only guests present were at the table we just left.”

This was like a bad nightmare. I knew I hadn’t imagined him. He had to be here, somewhere, even if he had been lying about everything. He was the holder to some of these answers and aside from Dad the only one in a position to really help me makes sense of it all. I had to find him. “Someone was in that room with me. He was six feet tall and built, grey eyes, black hair. He told me his name was Tristam before he left in a huff. And he told me he had brought me here. I’ve never seen him before in my life, Rhynn.”

Rhynn nodded, still concerned. “I’ll get the guards to search for him. If he’s still here, they’ll find him. Do you need any help? I can send up Eva and a maid, if you wish?”

I crossed the sitting room and plunked down in a high-backed conveniently placed beside the window and shook my head. “I’ll be fine, just slow. I don’t need anyone, just let me know what you find out. And if you find him, I want to talk to him.” I scowled. If they found him, he was going to have a lot to answer for.

Rhynn gave me a quick glance over, probably checking that I wasn’t about to faint, before he nodded again and backed out of the room. “You’ll be the first to know,” he reassured me as he swung my door closed behind himself.