Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
F or all his reservations about wearing another man’s shoes, Kit had to admit they were the most comfortable footwear he’d ever possessed. The boots looked odd with his trousers, but he didn’t care. They were soft leather, laced to mid-calf and moulded themselves perfectly to the shape of his feet. He assumed there must be some sort of enchantment at play. It was good that he had something to think about because Valentine appeared shaken by the morning’s events and Kit certainly was.
For the first hour neither of them spoke. Valentine had an angry look in her eye, the sight of which deterred Kit from broaching any of the subjects he wanted to. And there was a great deal he wanted to ask. The day grew increasingly hot but in an oppressive way. That, coupled with a stuffed head that felt like the worst hangover of his life, did not make for pleasant travelling. He couldn’t really remember anything from Valentine transforming into a bird in front of his eyes to when he had woken on the ground in front of the inn and she’d transformed from a man to a woman before his eyes. He curled his nails into his palms, unnerved by how attractive the male Valentine had been.
By what he estimated was roughly eleven o’clock they reached the foothills of the mountain range.
Long ago – ages now it seemed – Valentine had described her homeland to him. He’d pictured the Italian Lakes, or the Pyrenees in all their splendour. But this country looked sick. A lake they passed had a brownish tint to it as if the water was filled with rust. The heathers and grasses were insipid greens and the clouds and mist that obscured the peaks had a sickly, sulphurous tinge to them. They passed a few hamlets and villages that looked run down. It could have been England, except women sat spinning in doorways on wheels that rotated by themselves and children played with spinning tops that rose high into the air with trails of sparks. They walked into one of the larger villages where it was market day. Again, it could have been Malton except for the stall selling dodo eggs and the stallholders and shoppers.
Kit doubted he would ever get used to the sight of people with ears that were too pointed or teeth that were too sharp.
‘Stop staring,’ Valentine said sharply as Kit’s eyes settled on a tall, graceful woman with dark brown skin, white hair and a pointed white beard who walked arm in arm with an equally stunning man with green skin and wings folded at his back.
‘I’m only looking,’ Kit said.
‘You’re being rude. You look just as strange, though no one is staring at your face.’
‘I’m not staring because they’re strange, I’m staring because they’re both beautiful.’ He caught himself and stopped talking, aware he’d admitted to finding both of them attractive, though he suspected Valentine had already guessed his vice. ‘What business is it of yours in any case?’
Valentine spun away haughtily and began to study the wares on a stall run by a man with skin marked like snakeskin. She sifted through rows of coloured glass beads that were shaped like scales and threaded onto fine wire. Or perhaps they were scales. Nothing would surprise Kit any longer.
Valentine picked up a bracelet with beads that were shaped like daisies but pale bluey purple with the sheen of dove’s wings, and greyish green leaves. He couldn’t suppress his questions any longer and at least Valentine was speaking to him now, even if only to admonish him.
He had so many questions but one direction would open him up to scrutiny that was best avoided so he chose the other. ‘You can turn into a bird.’
She ignored him.
‘I didn’t imagine that did I?’
She gave no indication that she had heard him, but her hand trembled as she examined the bracelet.
‘It wasn’t the effects of whatever was drugging us?’ Kit asked, determined not to be brushed off.
She sighed impatiently.
‘You didn’t imagine it.’
‘You were the dove on my windowsill.’
‘Yes, and the one who flew overhead while you and Adelaide were arguing in the maze on the night of the party, and I watched while you spoke with your father.’
‘I feel so stupid!’ Kit exclaimed.
‘Don’t. You didn’t know about any of this at that time. It was before you’d seen your aunt’s toad.’
She patted his shoulder.
‘I almost had it when you said about going back to the inn. I think I was close to working it out, but then I lost the thought.’
She shrugged. ‘Now you know.’
‘Did you ever watch me getting undressed?’ he asked, narrowing his eyes.
She sniggered and gently shook her head.
‘Let’s go.’
She hung the bracelet back on the hook, but her eyes lingered on it.
‘Not for you, pretty lady?’ the stallholder asked.
‘Another time perhaps,’ she said, and there was a touch of regret in her tone before she moved away that was familiar to Kit. Adelaide was the same when they’d been shopping and she was hoping that her parents (or sometimes Kit) would buy something for her.
‘How much is it?’ Kit asked, struck by the sudden impulse to make Valentine happy. The colours would go nicely with her pink bangle.
‘What have you got?’ the stallholder asked.
Kit patted his pockets. No wallet. Nothing to trade, unless the snake-man wanted his wristwatch, and he was reluctant to give that away as it had been a gift for his twenty-first birthday.
‘Nothing,’ he admitted.
‘I’ll take a truth in exchange,’ the stallholder replied. His tongue flickered over his lips and Kit’s skin crawled to see it was forked.
‘Give me the truth of why you want to buy it. Is it for your companion? Your lady love?’
‘Oh, no. It’s for my friend,’ he explained. ‘The woman who was looking at it just now.’
The snake-man gave a loud, hissing, laugh of amusement. ‘And she’s not your lady love. Well, that’s a bafflement indeed, isn’t it. Then tell me why you want to gift it to her?’
Kit opened his mouth, but the man held up a hand.
‘Wait!’ He reached into his cash box and pulled out a small vial with a cork in it. ‘Speak your truth into here. There’s no point letting it go to waste.’
He removed the cork and held the vial a couple of inches from Kit’s lips.
‘Tell me, good son: why would you buy the trinket for the lady fair?’
‘Because her eyes looked on it with longing and I would be the source of gladdening her heart,’ Kit answered.
The words didn’t sound exactly like his own, but the man appeared satisfied because he corked the vial and flipped the bracelet from the hook into the air. He caught it in a small velvet bag that had appeared from nowhere, while the vial balanced on the palm of his other hand, humming gently with what Kit assumed were his words. The man gave him the bag.
‘Be the owner of the time and the purpose you gift it.’
Kit nodded at him and slipped the pouch into his pocket, where it felt surprisingly bulky. They exchanged pleasantries then Kit went to find Valentine. She was sitting on the steps of a fountain, drinking from the cup that was attached to it on a long brass chain.
‘Where have you been?’ she asked looking round at him.
Kit smiled. ‘Just looking at things.’
The snake-man was wise to suggest he wait until she was in a better mood.
‘At least I know how you got into my room. That’s one mystery cleared up in any case.’
Her lips almost curved into a smile, suggesting the bad mood that had caught her was releasing its grip. He sat beside her and accepted the cup. As the water appeared to be owned by no one it was presumably safe to drink. As she passed it to him, her bracelet glinted in the daylight.
‘I should have guessed. Your bracelet and the dove’s ring are the same colour. I even noticed the ring on its leg and thought it must be tame. Of course, really that should mean the bracelet should be around your ankle, though I suppose birds use their claws a little like hands so––’
‘Will you cease talking!’ Valentine snapped.
Kit stared at her in astonishment.
‘Are you intent on mocking me?’
‘Not at all,’ he replied. ‘I was just thinking aloud. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘Well, you are only half thinking, aren’t you,’ Valentine said crossly. ‘Babbling on like a child and letting anything pass your lips.’
‘Probably,’ Kit said. ‘It’s not so long since I was drugged, after all.’
He bristled and dropped the cup into the fountain where it sploshed as it sank. His mood plummeted with it, and pent-up exasperation at a long line of unbelievable revelations came tumbling out.
‘And before that, it’s not that long since I found myself telling stories to an audience made of the fae and goodness knows what else. And it’s not so long before that when I walked into a maze I’ve trodden a thousand times, lost my way and came out in broad daylight. And not so long before that , when I saw a living toad on my great-aunt’s tongue, and today I’ve just had confirmation that the woman I’ve shared a bed with can change into a bird and a man, and I’m feeling rather stupid and more than a little overwhelmed. So, no, I’m probably not thinking entirely accurately nor considering my words carefully.’
He turned around properly to face her. She was sitting very still, listening to his outburst impassively, but her face was pale and mask-like. She dropped her head onto her hands.
‘Will you please tell me what is upsetting you so much?’ he asked. ‘You saved me back there. That’s wonderful, so I don’t understand why you’re so angry. You even had the choice of sending the culprit to your family but that appeared to upset you. In fact,’ he added, modulating his voice to be less harsh, ‘You’ve been in a terrible mood since last night.’
She looked up at him through the protection of her hands. He could see her bright eyes, peering through her fingers.
‘See if you can work it out.’ Her eyes were heavy and tired. ‘Think about why birds have rings.’
She turned towards the mountains and they walked in silence for a while, Kit musing on her words.
Why did birds have rings, and why did that make her so angry? It gave him something to ponder as the climb got steeper.
Though Kit was quickly becoming out of breath, Valentine began to sing to herself as she walked. Her voice was low, and made Kit think of wintery twilights and honeyed milk in his nursery. Determined not to be outdone, he began whistling a marching song and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. He was under no illusion that his voice was anything other than dreadful, wavering around the notes rather than hitting them all (he had the distinction of being the only boy in Meadwell who had been asked not to join the church choir) but Valentine grinned at him, anyway.
‘Very wise. It’s worth a slightly more pleasant journey with feet that won’t ache so much. Music has its own enchantments.’
‘Really?’ Kit raised his eyebrows.
‘Of course. Even in your world that’s the case. Haven’t you ever been swept away by a piece of music and forgotten everything, or been brought to tears by a chord you’ve never heard before? Music can rouse anger or pity or desire.’
‘Well, yes.’ Kit swapped his rucksack from one shoulder to the other. ‘I am not sure that’s magic, though.’
‘You don’t have to be sure for it to work,’ Valentine said. ‘People didn’t know why the sun came up for thousands of years, but it didn’t stop it happening.’
Kit began to sing again and before he had reached the end of the first line, Valentine was harmonising with him. He almost stopped in surprise but she motioned with a hand for him to carry on and she fell in beside him. There were seven verses in the song, and though she didn’t know the words, her vocalising blended astonishingly well with his. By the time the song came to its end, Kit was surprised to realise that his feet were crunching on packed snow and that they were approaching the peak of the mountains that had been miles away. He turned back to look down the road and saw that they’d climbed quite a long way already and the inn was a distant speck, glinting in the folds of the valley like a discarded sequin.
‘I told you,’ Valentine said smugly, as he glanced around him.
‘But that’s not possible.’ He gaped stupidly. ‘We’ve actually travelled a lot further in the space of ten minutes than we did all morning. Miles and miles. I didn’t even feel the climb.’
‘Well, perhaps now you will believe me,’ she said. ‘Though I don’t think that would work in your world.’
‘We sang as we marched and we never arrived at the battlefield any quicker,’ he said. ‘Though of course none of us were in any rush to get there.’
‘But you are in a rush to meet Silas?’ Valentine asked. She narrowed her eyes as she spoke.
‘Yes. The sooner I find him, the sooner I can reclaim Adelaide and we can return home.’
They were walking on level ground now, on a pathway weaving its way between the two peaks of the mountains. The air was chilly and the sun barely broke through the bilious yellow fog that shrouded the tops. Patches of moss and heather claimed some of the rock but looked as if they were fighting a losing battle.
‘But you’ll stay and help us,’ Valentine asked quietly. ‘Look at the sky. The clouds should be snow white. The world isn’t healthy.’
Her face was a study of misery.
‘I don’t know.’
Valentine unshouldered her bag and sat on a flat rock. ‘That’s better than no.’
He sat beside her, setting his bag beside hers. The bracelet in his pocket pressed against his leg as he leaned down. Now might be the time to give it to her, but what would a trinket do compared to helping her as she wanted? He leaned back and stared up at the sky. A pair of birds circled, hovering on the currents. Raptors of some sort, though without the jesses that allowed a handler to prevent them flying away. From the corner of his eye, he could see Valentine staring at them, too. He glanced down at her wrist where the bangle seemed to pulse from within and remembered the carrier pigeons.
‘Birds wear rings to show who owns them,’ he murmured.
She nodded and there was sadness in her eyes. ‘Yes, they do.’
In his world, in the current century, the idea would have been incomprehensible. But here people did things differently.
‘Is this a shackle not an ornament?’
Her head whipped up and her face was contorted with anger.
He bit his lip, then asked quietly, ‘Valentine, are you a slave?’
She let out a sigh. ‘I am bound to the service of the one who caught me. This band proclaims my status, and my shame.’
‘Like in the fairy tale the bard told last night,’ Kit pointed out.
He was unprepared for the ferocity his observation caused, though later he would kick himself for not having seen clearly.
‘It wasn’t just a fairy tale,’ she spat, leaning forward. ‘How dare he! For that alone, he deserved my wrath!’
She snarled the words, her deep voice guttural. Kit drew a sharp breath in.
‘You’re actually the sister in the story the bard told? The maiden who was tricked.’
Valentine drew her legs up so that she was sitting cross-legged and dropped her hands into her lap, one covering her bracelet.
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she mumbled.
The sight of Merelda’s toad sprang to mind.
‘Don’t want to, or can’t?’ Kit asked gently.
He lifted her hand and drew her round towards him so he could get a better look at the bracelet. He viewed it with revulsion, remembering the story of how the necklace had tightened as the woman had put it on. He thought of Adelaide and whatever means Silas had used to steal her way. What had he given her that she couldn’t resist? It couldn’t just have been a posy of flowers. The bitter taste of vomit filled his throat, and he swallowed it down.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. That’s appalling. I’m so sorry.’
‘I don’t want your pity,’ Valentine said, and sniffed.
‘Nevertheless, I feel it.’
She hid her face behind her hands again, but he could see the flush of pink her cheeks had become.
‘Don’t. It makes my shame all the worse.’
‘You have nothing to be ashamed of!’ Kit fought the urge to take her in his arms and hold her close. Instead, he reached for her hand and held it tightly. ‘Evil has been done to you.’
‘Yes, but I was unwary and allowed myself to be tricked. I should have known better but I fell for the simplest of devices.’
‘May I look at it?’ Kit asked.
She nodded. He lifted her hand up onto his lap and ran his thumb over the smooth coldness of the carvings.
‘I noticed this on the day of the fair when we walked together. I thought then that it looked impossible to remove, but I assumed it was the skill of whoever had carved it and there was a hidden catch and a hinge. There isn’t, though, is there. It really does stay on permanently?’
‘It won’t come off until my master is dead, or the conditions are met to free me,’ Valentine told him. She reached out her hand as if she was going to touch the bangle but surprised Kit by laying her fingertips on his hand, a simple gesture that caused him to tremble.
‘How many years have you worn it?’
‘Fifty-seven years. I was just seventeen, and stupid, when I was caught.’
Kit rapidly did the sum and gasped. ‘You’re seventy-four years old? You look no older than twenty-five.’
‘We are a long-lived people. My grandmother lived to be two hundred.’ She shrugged but her eyes glinted and Kit suspected she was pleased with his reaction.
‘So, you might have to endure another hundred years or more of slavery? That’s dreadful.’
‘When my servitude has lasted for ninety-nine years and ninety-nine days I may ask for my freedom. My master might then set me a task or a quest which will allow me to win it.’
‘How generous of him,’ Kit snarled.
Valentine sniffed. ‘There are worse people to be enslaved by. My master does not treat me with indignity or demand that I share his bed, which is something.’
Silas! Kit’s jaw tightened. He had to remember he was holding Valentine’s wrist otherwise he would have balled his hand into a fist. He’d speculated about their relationship, but he’d never imagined this. That he did not rape her as a matter of course was the bare minimum and was all that would stop Kit beating the fae to death with his bare hands as soon as they met.
‘Will you tell me what happened?’ he asked.
Valentine uncrossed her legs and twisted around to face Kit. She appeared to be thinking deeply.
‘On one condition. I want to know about the scars you bear on your face and your heart.’
‘That’s something I don’t talk about.’ His shoulders tensed and a weight descended onto him. She thought being trapped was shameful but that was nothing in comparison to what Kit had done.
‘You should.’ She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. Cautiously he put his arm around her shoulder. ‘Ease your burden. I know you are brave. You won a medal.’
Kit’s throat tightened. The same praise he’d endured and accepted since the damned night when he’d lost so much. He’d vowed never to admit the truth, but with Valentine, he came the closest to feeling the urge. It wasn’t just his story though.
“Come with me. We’ll go together.”
‘I can’t. The shame is too much to bear and if you knew the truth about me, you’d deny our acquaintance.’
‘Then it will eat you eventually,’ she said. ‘I will tell you one thing. You’ve been responsible for my only hope so far.’
‘I have?’ Something like pride flickered in his heart, and it made him realise why he hadn’t immediately said he wouldn’t help. He’d give anything to see her happy. Her contentment mattered a great deal to him.
‘When you threw the iron key at me and it hit the shackle, the tiniest crack appeared. It was the first hope I had in all the years I’ve worn it.’
He hadn’t felt any qualms about hurting her to test his theory then, but now remorse threatened to eat him alive. Her voice had been full of shock, and he’d assumed at the time it was anger that he’d damaged it.
‘I was an absolute beast!’
She smiled tightly. ‘You did what you thought necessary. I’m not sure I blame you for doing whatever you could to defend your love. If I’d had someone like you, perhaps I’d have been freed long ago.’
She put her hand to his cheek. Her eyes were inviting him to take a chance on a kiss. She’d kissed him back then, and that hadn’t made sense, but now it did.
Kit swallowed. At the summit of a mountain, with clouds and snow surrounding him, it shouldn’t be possible to feel so hot. He had to suppress the urge to unbutton his shirt.
‘I hope Miss Wyndham knows how lucky she is to have a man with your courage and devotion, who loves her so deeply he’d walk into another world to get her back.’
He released his breath. Thank goodness she’d mentioned Adelaide and brought him to his senses before he’d kissed her. It gave him the impetus to move, because as well as his grudge against Silas for taking her, Kit now had his enslavement of Valentine to add to his list of reasons to hate the fae. He promised himself that the reckoning would come soon.