8. Lenna
8
Lenna
A s Lenna pushed the white marble door that led directly into the West House gardens and saw what was waiting for them inside, she gasped.
It had been too many years since she last saw the magnificent blue lake surrounding the white castle laid on a small island in the middle of the water. The image in her memory could have not reflected in a million years how beautiful it was. The reddish moonlight illuminated the multiple turrets and towers of the castle, and the reflection of the moon on the calm water of the lake felt pure. It was almost too beautiful to be true. The only visible connection to the island, and therefore to the castle, were five semi-arched bridges made of stone, distributed at equal distances alongside the circular island, as if they were the white spokes of a marvelous wheel.
Ayla stepped out of the corridor and stood a step behind her. “Oh,” Ayla said, holding her breath, her currently brown eyes wide, trying to absorb all the surrounding beauty.
From the edge of the lake until the exterior walls that separated the West House from the rest of the West Petal, there were garden grounds with summerhouses and small sheds like the one they stood by. It was difficult to think how such a place existed so close to the market where people of the city were begging for food to feed their children. Least to say how the Cardinals fuck would they reach the castle and find Raoul without ending imprisoned. This was a fortress made of water and moonlight.
Lenna considered their options: to likely end up in one of those history books she hated so much for being the youngest Ruler’s family members about to become panoms that ruined their futures by trespassing grounds of another House, or to return home before it was too late, and figure out another way to know where the Fifth was Raoul and if he was alive.
“I had a feeling you would come for him, Lenna,” a cold male voice said next to them. “I admit I was not expecting the other one.”
Lenna turned to face the man so fast that she felt her neck crack. Where darkness and shadows had been a few seconds ago, there was a man leaning casually against the wall of the fake shed they had just come out. He was in his early thirties, with blue eyes and long dark hair falling past his shoulders into a biological arm and a metallic mechanical arm. He was staring at the castle beneath the lake in front of them, as if he could not be bothered to pay attention to the twin sisters.
“Ciaran,” Lenna smiled. “How the fuck did you know it’s us?” She knew she should probably be ashamed, but she was more amused because Ciaran hadn’t changed one bit in the past two years, since the last time she saw him at the North House.
“No one else would be stupid enough to come here,” Ciaran said, now looking at the full moon. Its light reflected on the blue of his eyes and his metallic arm as much as it reflected on the water in front of them, as if they were part of the same being. Lenna had always thought Ciaran was handsome in a very serious and devastatingly unique way.
“You could stop playing the cleverer one and give me a hug. It’s been two years.” Lenna put her hands on her waist.
Ciaran slightly lifted a corner of his mouth, the closest he usually got to a smile. “I would, if you didn’t look like a stranger.”
Ayla started opening her pocket to get her bag out, but Ciaran lifted a hand and closed it. Lenna felt like a blanket lifted from her face and hair, and touched her hair to confirm what she knew: the fake black curls were gone, and her red waves were back in their usual place.
Ciaran took a few steps towards Lenna and gave her a tight, short hug. “You have less than a week until you become panoms. It would be a good idea to avoid getting into serious trouble before then.”
Lenna looked at him. Ciaran had always been like a big brother to her. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him until now. Since the West and North Houses had distanced themselves two years ago, there had been no social events like there used to. Lenna knew her father and mother met with the other Rulers in the different Cardinal Houses and at the Organ House frequently, but the heirs and extended family members were now excluded from those meetings. Ciaran, like Lenna, was the heir of his House, and unlike her, he was a very experienced panom.
“And what is this about?” Ciaran said to Lenna, pointing at Ayla.
Ayla’s face was the definition of indignation. “Excuse me,” she said, as if expecting an apology.
Ciaran completely ignored Ayla and continued looking at Lenna as if waiting for her to reply. “My dear sister is so snoopy she couldn’t resist me finding something out before she does. She must think she is the best spymaster of Thyria or something,” Lenna said, feeling the angry stare of her sister who, unexpectedly, said nothing.
“So,” Lenna continued, now serious, “is Raoul truly here?”
Ciaran turned his face towards the lake again, holding his palms together. “He is,” he said, his voice troubled.
“And where is he?” Ayla said sharply with a demanding tone.
Ciaran looked at Ayla from top to bottom, with visible disgust on his face. Lenna didn't blame him. Ayla had fucked up any sort of possibility of having a cordial relationship with him a few years ago. With no other acknowledgement that he had heard Ayla, Ciaran turned his face to Lenna. If the matter in hand wasn’t so serious, Lenna would probably enjoy the rage and indignation emanating from her sister, who was clenching her fists on her sides.
“Raoul appeared at the entrance of our castle this morning,” he told Lenna. “We’re not sure how or why.”
“I thought mouring is not allowed in the grounds of any House,” Lenna said, lifting her eyebrows. Some experienced panoms, including all the Rulers, mastered the ability to move themselves and other people through space using their magic.
“Unless you are a panom and a resident of the House you are mouring in or out. Otherwise, the epitellia wards are likely to hurt or kill you,” Ciaran said. “My father and I received the news about Raoul’s appearance together, and no one else meets the two criteria for mouring here.”
Removing the epitellia wards was like leaving the doors open to a normal house, hanging the keys on the door and putting a big note saying, “Thieves, please do not steal while nobody is in.” Lenna doubted Cobrian Castel, the Ruler of the West House and Ciaran's father, had taken such a risk for his House.
Ciaran nodded, as if reading Lenna's mind. “I know,” he said. “I don't understand it either, but thank the Fifth nothing happened.”
“Have you seen him? Is he okay?” Lenna asked.
“I haven’t. The healers told me he’s in a room in one of the towers, but…” Ciaran hesitated.
“But what, Ciaran?” Lenna prompted impatiently.
“The two healers I spoke to said Raoul is not wholly here.” His dark blue eyes reflecting the light of the moon and the dozens of dimly lit bulbs that illuminated the bridges across the lake. Lenna felt the blood in her veins go cold, but Ciaran continued. “They said he looks like he is asleep, but they cannot wake him up and they cannot get a response from him. They said it is as if his mind is somewhere else.”
“Where the fuck is somewhere else ?” Lenna spat, devastation and anger growing inside her. If someone had done this to Raoul, she would make them pay, even if it was the last thing she did.
“You will speak to me with respect, Lenna,” Ciaran said in a grave, slow voice.
“Sorry,” she muttered.
“The healers are trying different ways to bring his mind back, and they said my father ordered some researchers to be permanently assigned to the Learning Commons until further notice.”
Lenna felt her knees trembling and a hurtful knot in her chest. She leaned against the wall and let her legs drop her to the grassy ground, where she crossed them and stared at the silhouette of the white castle.
“It's still early, Lenna. He’s not even been here for a day,” Ciaran said, looking at her with empathy and sadness in equal amounts.
Lenna said nothing as a rumble of thoughts were crossing her mind at a hurried speed. She needed to know why they had found Raoul, and why anyone wanted him back in Thyria. Why they had overrode the sentence that got him discarded two years ago, completely unfairly as far as Lenna understood. She couldn’t think of any other case when someone had returned to Thyria after being discarded. She didn’t even think the Laws allowed such a thing, and she doubted the other Rulers, including her father, were remotely aware that Raoul was here. And why would Cobrian Castel, one of the powerful five Rulers of Thyria, had gone through all this trouble of researchers and healers for Raoul, the son of two discarded ex-servants? None of it made any fucking sense.
She didn’t dare contemplate what would happen to her friend if his mind didn’t return from “somewhere else”, whatever the fuck that meant. Lenna sank her fingers into the grass, feeling the soil getting under her nails and the wet freshness of the thin leaves touching the palms of her hands.
After a while, Lenna turned her face from the mesmerizing waters that surrounded the small island in front of them and looked at Ciaran.
“I'm glad Raoul is here,” she said.
She truly was. Even if she couldn't reach or see him yet, it was better knowing he was here than the Fifth knew where. And the second best place in Thyria to keep him, besides the North House, was the West House. It was also the closest to her own House, so hopefully that would be to her advantage when figuring out how to get to him. Plus, Ciaran was here.
Ciaran nodded in silence. Next to a tree, Ayla was standing with her arms crossed, staring at them with rage in her eyes, her jaw tight.
“What?” Lenna snapped.
Ayla’s fingers were tense against her arms. “I don’t believe him,” tilting her face towards Ciaran.
Ciaran snorted, not even bothering to look at Ayla.
“ You don’t believe him ?” Lenna asked her, incredulous, as she stood up.
“That’s exactly what I said,” Ayla replied with a superior smile. “I don’t believe any Ruler would move a finger for that boy, least of all bring him to his own House and use their personnel to help such a nobody .”
She should have expected that her haughty, self-important sister would consider her sister’s friend a nobody. Anyone that did not belong to the Elite was not enough for superior-ass Ayla. Lenna was dubious between slapping her damned sister’s face or using the basic magic knowledge she had to kick her bloody ass out of there.
“She’s not worth your rage, Lenna,” he said calmly. Lenna looked at him and realized her body had been on alert. She had unconsciously adapted the same position she used to fight when training with Theon.
Theon wouldn’t let Ayla get under his skin. Theon would fucking laugh at her face. Lenna knew he would because he had done so when the piece of shit of her sister had the bad idea of trying to undermine him. Lenna, with bitter anger still roaring in her veins, looked at Ciaran and thanked him in silence.
“I’m so over you two.” Ayla stomped towards the white marble door that had taken them into the grounds of the West and disappeared behind it. Lenna would be impressed if her sister remembered the way back to the market. It had taken Lenna many times accompanying Raoul to the door until she could remember the complicated paths and turns she had to take.
Ciaran was trying to contain a smile. “She’s going to get lost down there.”
“I know. What a moron of a sister, seriously,” Lenna said, shaking her head.
“Well, at least she is not the heir to your House. Imagine having her as your Ruler for the rest of your life,” Ciaran said, stretching his biological arm on top of his head.
Lenna chuckled. That would be absolutely unbearable. Lenna was fully aware of how much her narcissistic sister found it unfair that Lenna was the heir of the North House instead of her, just because Lenna was born five minutes before Ayla was. Ayla considered herself much more prepared and aligned with “the House’s vision” than her twin sister.
Lenna wasted little time of her life thinking about her future life as the heir. She didn’t give a shit most of the time. But to think Ayla was the alternative… Cardinals, yes, I’d rather be a Ruler.
“I can moure you to the North Petal, if you’d like,” Ciaran said. “As close to your House as I can get. It’s almost ante meridiem.”
“Wait, what?! You can moure?!” Lenna shouted. She took Ciaran’s grin as an affirmation. He should grin more frequently, she thought. It made him incredibly attractive. She patted him on the mechanical arm with too much excitement, and she almost felt the bones of her hand complain.
“We have a lot to catch up on,” he said, still smiling.
“It’s been so nice seeing you,” she said, returning the smile. “My parents are probably freaking out and mobilizing the roixers by now, unless a message I sent got delivered in time.”
“How did you send it?” Ciaran said, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.
There were three main ways to send a message in Thyria. Members of the Houses did not use frequently messengers because of the high chances that the message would be leaked. Messengers were actually one source of gossips and secrets for Ayla and other wannabe spymasters. Owlings were effective, reliable, and fast, but the creatures were extremely rare and only some Houses owned them. And the third way was…
“Magic,” she said. Even though her sister and Lenna had magic in their blood since the moment they entered the world, they officially could not use it until they had their Fifth Ceremony, and their full potential would be unlocked. Their parents had threatened them when they were little, saying if they used magic before they became panoms, they would lose the petals of their panom mark. But many flying vases, rogue pieces of furniture running around the house, and pets turned into decoration later, their parents stopped telling them anything and just pretended they didn’t know their daughters were using magic.
“I think I would have been disappointed if Lenna Brachyan had learned no magic before her Fifth,” Ciaran said. “Who has been teaching you?”
“Nobody. I stole a couple of books from Leo, my mentor, with the basics, and I have been practicing here and there on my own.”
After arguments like the one she just had with Ayla, a part of Lenna was glad that she was not a panom yet, and that she hadn’t been taught how to use the powers that would be fully accessible to her when she was. Lenna would have to learn to control herself with her high and mighty sister. She hated Ayla but would not like to harm her irreversibly during a fight.
They heard a dripping noise coming from the corridor behind the marble door next to them, and they both turned to face it. Ciaran lifted both hands in front of him, ready to use them, and Lenna in a fighting stance.
Ayla appeared, slogging through the door archway, fully soaked with some sort of sticky liquid that smelled like rotten eggs. Her usually perfect straight long hair was a mess. Reading her face was a challenge.
Lenna looked at Ciaran, lifting her eyebrows and biting her bottom lip, trying to contain a laugh out of some non-deserved pity for her sister. Lenna sent a silent thanks to the five Cardinals for their payback.
“I thought you knew about our neighbor,” Ciaran said casually. “I hope he was not too rude to you.”
Ayla walked towards Lenna. “Let’s go home. Now.”
“Ciaran is mouring us,” Lenna said with a false apologetic look.
Ayla took a deep breath with her eyes closed, probably trying to find the latest bit of her patience. “Moure us now,” she ordered.
Ciaran looked at Lenna, lifting his eyebrows. “Do you want me to moure your sister too? She’s very dirty.”
Lenna laughed, knowing Ciaran was enjoying this as much as she was. “I think it’s better if we both get home at the same time, otherwise I’ll be in more trouble,” Lenna said.
Ciaran closed his hand, and the stickiness of Ayla’s clothes and skin disappeared. Ayla clenched her jaw and said nothing.
“You’re welcome,” Ciaran said, getting closer to the sisters. As he touched the back of their necks, the three of them vanished into the night.