Chapter Thirty-Three
Do not wander too far into the night, seeking a glimpse of me in moonlight, for I am not there. I have gone where you cannot follow, and the more you call my name, the more you tether me to a place I can no longer be.
– The Wandering Tales of Amrock, 1572
It was the story my father told on stormy nights, of beings driven mad by grief; a reasoning for why spirits existed. Trapped because those who loved them grieved too much. A story of magic that couldn’t find its way back to the earth. It took too much energy for a spirit to manifest, most waited years for a bare moment for someone to see them.
Yet, that girl had wished for me to see her and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I’d seen her twice and I couldn’t shake the feeling she needed something.
Now she stood in the outline of the forest, nothing but a faint glow in the distance between the thicket of trees drenched in morning light. Again, trying to catch my eye. As if waiting for me, knowing she’d captured my curiosity.
The loud calls of the birds echoed through the barren wood as the cold morning air sent leaves rolling across the muddy ground.
A rustle and crack of twigs made me turn to see a small beast emerge from beneath the undergrowth.
Some would incorrectly call it a goblin. The creature’s skin was a pallid green, its stout, small body covered in sparse fur like a boar. It had a pointed snout, belly low to the ground and short stubby legs. Its clawed feet curling into the dirt as a thick tail dragged behind it through the thicket. Its familiar annoyed bottle-green eyes squinted up at me as a long, forked tongue licked out to taste the damp air.
It was indeed a rare creature called a rot badger.
‘You said you want to build up a tolerance,’ I teased. Alma had been repulsed by the idea, but it was the only pleasant creature I could think of that had a good nose for darkness.
Don’t remind me . Her sharp hiss seemed to say before she darted off into the shrubbery. Surprisingly fast for such a chubby little creature, chasing any trace of a scent that could help us.
Alma had come across to Fairfax Manor early with a pot of tea, as if she too couldn’t sleep. Or that she was worried about me as always. Wanting to know what troublesome plans I had for the day.
So here we were, back at the Verr pit in the middle of Fairfax Wood, trying to make sense of more madness. I took in the hideous cavern, still dark, even in the morning sunlight that trickled through the thick canopy of twisted branches above.
The houseguests had left for a hunting trip, the maid had reluctantly informed me. I didn’t press her further to ask if Emrys had also gone, didn’t dare mention anything to Alma about last night. I didn’t know what was more dangerous, letting myself get tangled with a lord, or keeping a ghoul beneath my bed.
He’d sent no note. I didn’t think I could have stomached the shame if he’d tried to apologise. I shouldn’t care.
There were other things that needed my attention, such as the wrongness of Fairfax Manor.
Pushing the thoughts of Emrys’s warm solid body pressed so close to mine, the sounds in the back of his throat and the demanding thoroughness of his kisses, to the back of my mind as I moved to stand in the entrance of the forsaken ruins.
The cavern was nothing but a cruel ancient beast as I stood in its maw. Only it didn’t have teeth anymore, just the hollow remains of all the terrible things that had come before. All the things this world had forgotten. What its hatred had allowed to happen.
The myths exist in your veins, Tauria. Nobody can take them from you, nobody can diminish them, only you can by forgetting . My father’s words seemed louder in the silence of this cavern.
I moved further inside, kicking at the clumps of earth and stone. Moving them to see the shattered remains of metal chain beneath, the fragments of bone now stained with ash.
Then a gleam of white caught my eye. I crouched down, pulling out my blade and letting it shift into a pocketknife as I dug the thing out of the earth, which seemed reluctant to let it go. The large piece too pale, ice cold to the touch and veined with dark. Like a piece of marble.
It was nothing more than a fragment, but I saw the symbols carved on the smooth surface, how yellow they were with age. A Verr summoning charm.
A fresh summoning rune carved on top. What had called that Caymor. Someone had put this here. Buried it recently.
A crack came from behind me, too loud to be a rot badger. It lurched me to my feet, turning with my blade twisted outwards, only to be greeted with the sharp amber eyes and sly grin of Thean Page. Their auburn hair falling over their shoulder, the ridiculous frill of their lace collar catching the sharp breeze. The fabric was thin enough to see they hadn’t bothered to bind their breasts. Or wear a cloak against the winter chill.
‘I could have hurt you,’ I snapped, brushing errant strands of hair out of my face as I lowered the knife.
‘I’d love to see you try, darling,’ they taunted, brushing their fingers down their britches. A luxurious dark green suede, completely impractical. Gold stitching in the shape of vines curved around the inside of their thighs, almost inviting someone to trace the pattern with their hand.
I scanned the forest, annoyed I hadn’t heard them creeping up on me as I pushed my blade and the cursed summoning fragment into my bag. I knew I shouldn’t keep cursed items on my person but I didn’t want to linger in a wood with a voyav that was clearly up to no good.
I turned back to that cavernous dark. Feeling the sadness of the place clinging to my skin. Reluctant to let me go. Unbothered by Thean’s presence as I touched my forehead and the space over my heart in the Kysillian tradition of respect. Just as my father had taught me, hoping that whatever poor souls had suffered here could feel it. Feel my regret that those Kysillian Kings weren’t here now to keep them safe as they promised.
That they failed. That I’d failed them too.
‘You are not as I expected you to be,’ Thean said softly from behind me, almost confused by the admission.
Because I was Kysillian.
‘I am not yours to expect things of.’ I met their gaze with my own sharpness. I had nothing more to say, so moved back towards the wood. The voyav might wish to punish themselves by dwelling here, but I didn’t.
‘If you look any more forlorn, those mortals will start to gossip,’ they taunted.
I sighed, continuing through the wood. ‘Unless you want to learn why they hunted the Kysillians so ruthlessly, you’ll mind your business.’ A tension coiled in me, rage needing a way out. It’d been too long since I’d sparred. Too long since I’d allowed my body that freedom.
‘Darling, I’m not the one you’re mad at,’ they goaded, unfortunately still following.
I should have been worried about their company but the stone around my neck remained silent. Whatever threat Thean Page was, they weren’t here for me.
‘You’re here to stalk Emrys, remember, not me,’ I snapped over my shoulder, only for them to slip into step with me, humming softly as their hands slid into their pockets. Those immortal amber eyes surveying the surrounding wood with boredom.
I wondered why, of all the things they had to do, they were bothering me. However, those thoughts only led to their worrying familiarity with Emrys, which almost stopped my retreat.
‘How do you know Emrys?’ I pressed, wondering if they’d even entertain that conversation.
They eyed me cautiously. ‘Careful. Secrets from my lips may cost you things you cannot give, little Kysillian.’
‘Try me.’ I turned, stopping them in their tracks. The last few days had tempered my will and I refused to be afraid.
Their head tilted slightly in contemplation, red hair cascading over their shoulder, showing streaks of gold in the sunlight and revealing the summoning runes down the side of their neck, curving down the low plunge of their shirt.
‘Three questions in exchange for a favour.’ They held out their slender hand, runes curled around their finger, one shaped like an eye sat in the centre of their palm.
I could have said no, but again, the stone around my neck was silent.
‘Deal.’ I took their hand, squeezing it harder than needed.
‘Emmaline,’ I began ruthlessly.
Thean’s amber eyes hardened instantly, their fingers slipping free from my grip and they continued to walk.
‘She was in service with me.’ There was a coldness to the words, as if they were sharing a simple fact.
‘To the rebellion?’ The confession almost made me stumble over my own feet.
‘Fulfilling the last of their mother’s oath. That’s how the rebellion keeps itself supplied with willing participants. They bind them with blood oaths.’
‘Lady Blackthorn was a member of the rebels?’ My mind was racing too viciously to make better use of my questions. Lord Blackthorn was a king’s mage. He’d been so close in his ranks and yet he was married to a member of the darkest part of the rebellion.
A willing traitor, an easy whore and a brutal killer. Emrys’s words came back to me, the bitterness lingering in them. Just how deep did Blackthorn allow his children to go into those games, and his own wife?
‘She was many things before she was Lady Blackthorn, darling. A sorceress beyond limit, a clever spy and a deadly assassin. She was sent to Blackthorn’s bed to kill him. I think you can gather how that went.’ Thean raised a dark brow with insinuation. ‘It seems like a family trait to desire forbidden things.’
I ignored their taunt.
‘Rebels don’t break their vows,’ I warned. They couldn’t. They were blood sworn.
‘She didn’t. Lord Blackthorn is dead and her love led him down that path.’ Thean’s words were careful, weighted perfectly like a warning as their slender shoulders lifted with a shrug.
A cold dread shot down my spine but I persevered. Foolish as always. ‘Why are you here?’
‘I have debts to pay that cannot be ignored.’ A weight came with those words as the voyav was suddenly occupied with the lace of their collar that the wind had disturbed.
Avoiding that truth. A debt. One that had led them to watch over Emrys like a hawk. To try to warn him of this.
‘Emmaline asked something of you?’ I stopped in the middle of the wood, seeing the pain hidden in the voyav’s expression. They knew Emmaline, and she had asked them for something. Something beyond a blood vow.
The voyav simply gave me an irritated glance over their shoulder. ‘That’s four.’
I didn’t need the answer. Thean had already given it by being here. They had been following Emrys; they knew the things that were happening. Did Emrys see the warning in the voyav’s presence? If Emmaline had commanded them, they had no choice.
You can’t break a dead being’s vow.
‘He’s in danger here,’ I murmured softly, too afraid to speak the words any louder.
‘He’s always in danger, darling, mostly from himself,’ Thean replied. They somehow seemed mortal and exhausted by the revelation before their eyes turned sharp again. ‘Something else you both have in common.’
We’d come to the small clearing where the portal door had formed in that crumbling archway. Only I was rooted in place by the weight of all the truths I’d asked for.
‘Of course, you had to find some other form of bloody trouble,’ came the irritated words from Alma as she emerged from the wood, arms tightly folded across her chest. Re-dressed in her simple dark day dress, errant leaves and twigs in her hair, her cheeks flushed with exertion.
‘Just when I thought my day was looking rather dull.’ Thean crossed their arms, the words were a lover’s purr from their throat, smile wicked. ‘Good morning, darling.’
Alma ignored them, placing her hands on her hips and scowling at me. ‘Why are they here?’
‘Riddles,’ was the only answer I could give.
‘If I’d known you were naked, sweetheart, I would have come sooner.’ Thean grinned, eyes dragging over Alma’s rumpled skirts.
Knowing by the sudden stiffness of Alma’s spine this wasn’t going to end well, I left them to it.
Alma hissed something about disembowelling the voyav, but the rest of the brutal threat was thankfully lost as I stepped into the portal.
It seems like a family trait to desire forbidden things.
Sat at one of the tables hidden deep in the library shelves, I turned Thean’s words over in my mind. The very thin line the Blackthorns had walked. Secrets that had led them to the grave.
I turned the white Verr summoning charm over in my hands, thumb running over the carved runes. Refusing to allow myself to be cowed by them.
More evidence of the Council’s lies. Of Master Hale’s. How they preached there was no darkness in this world to worry about. I couldn’t get that girl’s face out of my mind. The fear in her eyes. Left in the dirt like nothing but discarded waste.
I let the cursed object tumble from my fingers, clattering to the table as I pushed myself to my feet in disgust. Anger coiled tightly in my gut as I gripped the shelves. How foolish I’d been to believe any of it. To allow them to keep me locked in that institute, to gorge myself on their lies.
I pulled a few more books about ancient ground curses from the shelves. The sideboard next to me rattling its drawers in question.
‘I’m fine.’ I sighed, turning back to the table and dumping my new collection on top. Then I took all the small soil samples I’d taken in the wood for William out of my bag.
If you look any more forlorn, those mortals will start to gossip, Thean’s words taunted in my memory.
‘ Forlorn ,’ I scoffed under my breath at the ridiculousness of it. It was just a stupid kiss.
Annoyed I’d let the voyav goad me, I opened one of the heavy tomes to see what lay inside. The thin time-stained pages crackled in greeting. My other hand moved to play with the chain around my neck as I tried to concentrate.
Chaos of the heavens. Emrys’s words whispered through my mind, as soft as any caress. Making me bite my lip. Consumed with the foolishness of that desire. Then came the memory of the alluring scent of him, the teasing bite of his magic as it had run temptingly down my throat in the absence of his lips. Following my unspoken command for more.
‘You need to stop doing that,’ came his dark voice over my shoulder, making me jump.
I turned to see him, regretting it instantly. The dark handsome disarray of him. Like I’d summoned him with the barest thought.
‘R-reading?’ I stuttered, ignoring how my stomach dipped with his closeness, his hand mere inches from my own where they curled over the lip of the table. ‘I thought you were hunting .’
‘No, opening cursed books,’ he clarified, reaching over me to flip the cover closed. ‘And I don’t hunt innocent creatures.’
I looked to the book, reminding myself of the night I’d seen him first in the moonlight. How far away that was now. How many things had changed.
I cleared my throat. ‘You shouldn’t own so many,’ I said, annoyed by my own breathlessness.
The shelves had shifted into a circular shape, concealing us. The vaulted ceiling, adorned with stone carvings like one of the saint halls for worship. Bright with long arched windows allowing morning sunlight to pour down on us.
‘You wouldn’t find me half as interesting if I didn’t.’ His gaze was cautious as it traced my face. ‘You shouldn’t go wandering those woods, Croinn. Not until we figure this out.’
I pulled back, ignoring the fact that he knew my latest scheme. ‘Is that why you sent Thean to spy on me?’
‘Thean?’ His eyes darkened immediately, his frown deep. ‘The last thing you need is to catch the rebellion’s attention, Kat.’
‘I doubt they’re recruiting at a lord’s dinner party,’ I countered tartly. The rebellion wouldn’t want a member as chaotic and undisciplined as me.
‘I don’t know. It appears Thean’s seduction tactics work wonderfully on you.’ He said the words so dryly and there was no missing the envy in his gaze.
‘I’m surprised you noticed,’ I observed coldly, his focus sharpening with almost deadly intent. ‘You think the rebellion care about a dead Kysillian bloodline?’
I pressed my hand to his chest to move him back so I could make my departure. ‘I’m in no danger from Thean. They’re here for you , not me.’
His dark brow rose, the hint of a smile at the corner of his scarred mouth almost mocking as he captured my hand so gently, keeping me close. ‘Really? You think a Kysillian with full range of her magic wouldn’t catch their eye?’
‘Jealous?’ I snapped irrationally.
Something shifted in his expression, almost in warning. ‘Let’s just say it isn’t in my nature to share.’
‘You’re just annoyed someone else is trying to take advantage of my usefulness before you can.’ I broke, letting that bitterness out of me. Ready to be done with the game as I tugged my hand free of his hold.
If he was offended by the slight, he didn’t show it, no, he did something worse. He leant closer, a softness in his features that unsettled my heart. ‘That’s not why I chose you, Kat.’
‘Why else would you?’ I hated the hurt that burned in my chest at that truth. I was here because I was useful , and I wouldn’t fool myself otherwise. I pushed him back, moving past him to leave. ‘Call him an old bastard all you want, at least Master Hale was honest about his intentions.’
Liar. That voice hissed in the back of my mind.
‘Getting you killed for nothing more than his pride?’ He teased bitterly behind me.
I spun back to face him, hearing the shelves around us creak, displeased with our fighting. ‘Master Hale was trying to help.’
‘Help? By trapping you there?’
‘Where else was I supposed to go, Emrys?’ I threw my arms wide with frustration. ‘To the fey traffickers? The workhouse? Or the streets?’
Each word struck him like a blow but I didn’t care. Ignoring the sting of tears with my irritation, I charged back to him, finger pointed to ram it into the centre of his chest, Council regulations about partnership conduct forgotten.
‘We both know the rebels won’t have me. I’m even too cursed for the likes of them.’ I prodded the space right over his heart. ‘Whatever debt Hale owed you—’
‘Debt?’ He cut me off, the question as sharp as a blade, but it was his fingers that captured my wrist, pulling me closer until we were flush.
My palm was flat against his chest, feeling the calming, steady beat of his heart. His head ducked to meet my eye, an intensity resting in the stormy grey of them.
‘I once read a paper so beautifully written, it was like I was learning magic was real for the first time.’
My next words stuck in my throat, breath escaping me too softly.
‘Like seeing it rise from my own flesh, feeling it move through my veins. Proving I was real. I was alive,’ he whispered, like we were sharing a secret. ‘Magic survives, no matter how weak or thin its threads become. Unashamed of its weakness, consumed by its relentless will to live. It survives and we forgive it for its viciousness in doing so. We’d forgive it anything, and yet we never forgive ourselves.’
My words. They were my words.
Tears escaped my eyes; I shook my head. Unwilling to believe it, but he captured my face so gently between his palms.
‘I hunted down the author, only to discover they lied. And so did the next, and the next. Months it took me to find the crumpled and stolen source material in one of the old record halls. Papers on healing curses, the beauty of mythical beasts and the nature of the darkness we should fear.’
I couldn’t quite breathe, but ruthless as always, Emrys didn’t stop.
‘Then Hale asked for my help. As if Fate were pushing me to an answer.’ He stopped there for a moment, eyes clear and full of a strange longing pain. ‘Then I saw you. Trapped. That sadness in your eyes. Their endless cruel games, and yet, you didn’t cower.’
I tried to see myself that way but I couldn’t. I was too far from that version of myself now. He’d brought me too far.
‘I chose you because I needed you, Kat.’ His voice was steel, unequivocal, and firm. ‘Not because you’re Kysillian, not because of Hale or for being the apparent scourge of the Institute.’
His head dipped until our foreheads touched and I found myself leaning into the warmth of him, foolishly wanting things I shouldn’t from him.
‘I needed you .’ His eyes closed as if pained.
You. The single word broke my heart, to be something more than the magic inside of me. More than their bargaining chip. More than my foolish fate.
I’d needed him too. The moment I’d pressed my words to those pages, I needed someone to read them, to know it was real before they took everything I had left.
His magic brushed my skin in comfort, reminding me too vividly of the seduction of his touch as he began to pull back.
‘I won’t take things from you you’ve worked so hard for, Kat. They’d ruin you for it, for my weakness in not letting you go.’ His eyes drifted to my lips before he corrected himself, jaw hard with restraint.
‘I was ruined the moment I was born, Emrys.’ I allowed the pain of that truth to consume me. The bitterness towards my parents for trying to teach me any differently. ‘If you think I care what those old bastards think of me, you haven’t been paying attention. I make my own decisions. No matter how much you regret yours.’
‘Regret.’ He repeated the word sinisterly.
‘Shame, remorse, regret – pick a term. I’m certain it will fit,’ I mocked, moving to turn, to flee – only for his arms to come around me, to bring me back against his front.
‘You’d be very wrong, Kat.’ His words were a wicked thing that brushed my ear. ‘Wrong for thinking I haven’t wanted to kiss you every day since you set that ghoul on me.’
‘I didn’t set it on you.’ I wanted to snap but my voice didn’t sound steady as I turned to glare up at him, finding our fingers interlaced at my waist. ‘However, you’re giving me wonderful ideas.’
I wouldn’t mind setting a ghoul on him right now.
‘You’re under my house. My protection. I’m not going to—’
‘I wouldn’t say the house likes you very much at the moment,’ I interrupted, and to emphasise the point, the drawer beneath the table opened to whack into his hip, making him mutter a curse at the furniture, but he still didn’t let me go.
‘And I can protect myself just fine.’ I turned in his arms, knowing I’d proven that. Perhaps finally proven it to myself most of all.
‘It was just a kiss, Emrys,’ I finished, unable to focus on anything other than where his hands still rested at my waist, how my own had somehow curved around his forearms. ‘A moment of madness.’
‘You’re a terrible liar, Croinn.’ His head tilted, smile devious.
‘Then what a wicked pair we make,’ I taunted, leaning forward with my ferocity, only for one of his hands to capture the side of my face again with such gentle reverence I felt my anger slipping from my grasp.
‘I can’t lie to you.’ There was a desperate longing to the quietness of those words. ‘For once in my life I wish I could.’
‘Really?’ A huff of a bitter laugh left me, only to be stifled as he ducked his head closer. His thumb dragged across my bottom lip. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Having another moment of madness.’ That teasing smile was still there as I watched his eyes bleed to complete darkness.
‘I’m still angry with you,’ I whispered, almost desperately trying to find my will.
‘I know, Croinn,’ he answered, barely brushing a kiss at the corner of my mouth. My fingers curled into his shirt as I felt his smile sharpen at the tremble in my lip.
‘Out of all the punishments I’ve endured, why is being forbidden to have you the worst of them all?’ he whispered against my cheek, such desperate sadness pressed into each word it made my heart break.
‘Emrys—’ I barely breathed, before a clattering crash stole all other words from me, making me jump out of Emrys’s arms as he stepped back. Leaving me feeling oddly hollow.
‘Bloody saints !’ came a yell from between the bookcases, whatever awful stupor had consumed us vanishing.
‘William?’ I rushed around the corner, finding him looking down sadly at a ruined breakfast tray in the doorway to the study, the contents scattered across the entryway.
‘Half the sodding floor just came up !’ he groused. ‘I could have broken my neck !’
‘Here.’ I dropped to a crouch, turning the tray over and gathering up the shattered remains of plates and cups. I could have used my magic but my hands weren’t quite steady yet.
‘Bloody house,’ William muttered, pulling a rag from his apron and trying to stop the tea from seeping down a large crack in the floorboards. Then his head darted up just as I felt the brush of Emrys’s magic down my spine.
‘This came under your guest-room door from Fairfax. I think Lord Percy is looking for you.’ William held a small letter out from his apron. Emrys took it carefully, his face troubled once more as he considered the mess before us.
‘You should go,’ I offered softly, those grey eyes coming to me instantly. ‘The last thing we need is them asking questions.’
‘Kat can help me with the cleansing charm. I think I’ve found something that will work with the soil.’ grinned in agreement, oblivious to the intensity in Emrys’ tense form.
Emrys remained silent, that letter curled into his fist. Hesitant. Too many things unfinished and unsaid.
‘I’m certain I’ll find you later.’ I smiled as I got back to my feet, something about the offer seemed to make the decision for him as he excused himself and left us. I tried to ignore the stinging bite of longing in my chest.
‘Where is Alma?’ William asked curiously, trying to balance all the shattered remains back on the tray.
‘Probably gutting Thean.’ I sighed, knowing I should probably be more worried for her, but Alma could handle a nosy voyav better than I could.
‘Thean?’ William’s eyebrows shot up, but I was already turning him by his shoulders back to the kitchen.
‘Never mind.’ I sighed, not wanting to think about any more of my mistakes. ‘We should get to work. The sooner this is over the better.’