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.