Chapter 11
Ruben doesn’t say a single word on the journey back, and I don’t press him. It’s not like I’m in the mood for conversation either.
Summer opens the door when we reach the house, but despite her offer of aid, I help Ruben upstairs by myself.
After removing his furs, I gently lay him down onto my bed, then pull his shoes off his feet.
I tuck him beneath the quilt as he stares at the wall, lost in a maelstrom of emotion that I know so well.
I even see the guilt festering within him, the same way it festered within me for so long.
I should have done more to help Mother, to stop her illness advancing.
I should have stopped Father’s drinking.
Yes, I know grief and guilt well. Two unwelcome bedfellows that shoehorn their way into your life without invitation.
Leaving him there, I slope out of the room.
‘Thanks,’ he murmurs softly just before I close the door.
I nod, and the latch has barely clicked when the sound of his sobs fills the corridor. The choked echoes of loss tear at my heart, stirring my own remembered grief anew.
Still, I do not go in to offer him comfort. He deliberately waited until I left before letting go, and so I will respect his choice.
On soft feet, I make my way downstairs, hesitating momentarily in the hallway before heading to the orangery. There is a suspicion that has been rippling through the back of my mind since I spoke to Dinah, and here is the place I hope to find the answer.
Damp air fills my lungs, the irrigation system watering the plants and creating an unprecedented humidity in Wrohelm. It’s warm enough here to strip off all my clothes and dance around naked if I wanted to.
But I don’t. I’m here for a reason, and frivolity has no place in it.
Just as when I was searching for plants to help Noleen, I cast my gaze around the space, focusing my thoughts on one singular idea.
Something to suppress Issen magic.
Around me, several plants begin to glow, each selected by my magic’s instincts. But as I walk the lines of the orangery, harvesting ingredients, my stomach churns more and more as I recognise plant after plant.
When I am done, I feel sick. The highlighted plants are – without exception – the ingredients for Mother’s so-called ‘health tonic’.
All this time, it was not our health that she was promoting, but our magic she was suppressing.
An idea flickers within me, and with it, the slightest glimmer of hope. I could brew it again. Take it as I had before.
Yet even as the thoughts form, Dinah’s pointed words echo. What surfaced in you was never given, Rose. It was uncovered. And once such things wake, they do not respond well to being pushed back down.
She was warning me of exactly this. Fuck these riddles! Couldn’t she just come out and say it?
I can’t take the ‘health’ potion. Not now that I’ve used the powers.
My annoyance has barely taken root when another thought pushes it out. One far more fearful.
I brewed Kay a vast supply of the tonic before I left for the Retterheld, wanting to keep her healthy in the slums in case Artur didn’t come for her, but did she take it with her once she knew she was heading to the High Hold?
Has she continued to take it every day, the way our mother insisted?
With every fibre in my body, I pray that Kay has maintained her habit.
At least if her powers have not surfaced, she will be spared this new level of fear and torment that I now have to live with.
And what of William? Dinah did not say at what age our mother started manifesting these powers. Perhaps at fifteen years old, he is still young enough to keep them at bay? Maybe it will not be too late to stop them growing within him.
With the ingredients for the suppression potion laid in a wicker basket, I leave the orangery and stride towards the kitchen.
Smells of cooking eddy through the air, yet despite the aromas I’m still shocked when I walk in and see a ridiculously full spread laid out on the table.
I will have to speak to Summer and encourage her to curb this excess.
I cannot bear it when I know of the starvation others suffer beyond the rings.
I am also taken aback by the fact that the room is far from empty.
‘You came back.’ My voice hitches as my eyes fall immediately on William, though as a red tinge colours his cheeks, I realise how intently I’m staring.
‘It’s not a problem, is it?’ he asks, his tone worried.
‘No, of course not. No, I am pleased to see you. You’re always welcome here. Always,’ I repeat, only to sense that I’m now rambling as well as staring. As such, I turn my attention elsewhere.
Kay and Jonas are sitting next to each other at the kitchen table, knees touching a little under the table, like they are about to play footsie.
It’s a trite act of a young couple in love, not one already bound in marriage despite barely knowing one another.
And to think that only days ago Jonas actually expected me to say yes to his proposal.
‘Summer cooked,’ Kay says unnecessarily as Jonas reaches for a pasty. ‘Though she’s gone upstairs to clean some more rooms for us now.’
‘Her cooking is incredible,’ William comments.
‘The meat pasties are the best thing I’ve ever eaten,’ Jonas agrees before taking a bite of a second one.
‘So,’ Kay says impatiently, looking directly at me. ‘Where have you been?’
‘I went to speak to Dinah.’
‘And? Did you find out anything helpful?’
‘Sort of.’ My eyes shift to Jonas. ‘But perhaps we should speak alone.’
Her nostrils flare and she straightens her back. ‘Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of my husband. It’ll save me repeating it again later. We have no secrets from each other.’
She beams up at him, and it takes every inch of my willpower not to gape at her.
No secrets from one another? I doubt he has told her dozens of things, like how he was going to let Zara kill him at the end of the Retterheld because he was too afraid to use his power again.
Does she really think he’s told her everything?
If so, she’s even more absurdly na?ve than I thought.
‘This is about family, right?’ William says, breaking the tension with his question.
‘Yes, it is. Family,’ I repeat, with a glare at Jonas.
‘Well, if you try to make me leave, I’ll just eavesdrop again.’ William shrugs as he speaks matter-of-factly. ‘I deserve to know the truth too.’
‘You’re right, you do.’
For a moment longer I consider whether I should insist Jonas leave, but I can’t deal with another fight. Not with what I’m about to tell them. And it’s not like he doesn’t know part of it already.
Besides, this affects William too, and Jonas has already proved he’ll go to any lengths to ensure my brother’s safety.
After all, if the Goddess hadn’t told him that I had to learn the truth about my brother, he might still be holding that secret.
Whatever my reservations are, he has proved he can be trusted with William’s secrets.
And so, reluctantly, I take a seat and tell the group everything I learned from Dinah.
I speak slowly, trying not to miss a single word from her whispered suppositions, including her hints about our mother’s heritage and the details about the dagger.
Kay’s cheeks pale and her hand slides down to rest on her abdomen. Her child may be part Issen too, I realise. But is the blood diluted enough that they won’t show it?
‘The health tonic Mother made us, that I carried on making us in the slums … it suppresses Issen magic,’ I tell them when I reach the end of my conversation with Dinah.
‘When I stopped taking it in the Retterheld … well, it showed up.’ I draw in a breath, trying not to reveal that my sister’s entire future might rest on the next answer she gives me.
‘I made you plenty of the tonic before I left. Did you take it while I was in the trials?’
Please. The word echoes in my mind. Please, please say yes.
She nods. ‘I just thought, I may as well, you know? So I did.’
Relief floods me, and my shoulders loosen for the first time all day.
‘When was your last dose?’
‘A few days ago.’
‘Okay, that’s good. That’s good. I can brew more.’ I pat the laden wicker basket. ‘Lots more. If we can keep your powers from ever showing up, then you can’t lose control of them.’
‘What if …’ William’s voice is small, drawing my attention to him. ‘What if you already have them?’
Dread knots within me.
‘William?’ I leave the rest of the question unspoken, and it is Jonas who finishes it for me.
‘William, you can tell us. If something has happened, you must tell us.’
My brother chews on his lip. ‘I … well … I …’
Rather than continuing to speak, he reaches for the glass of water before him, and we all watch as ice forms in it.
As William’s eyes meet mine, a deep ache rolls out through my chest. If I ever doubted that he believed he was our brother, that feeling is long gone.
What he just showed us could get him killed, which means, in spite of everything, he trusts us.
Pride and happiness flood me, tempered with anxiety and fear. He has Issen magic, just like me.
‘How long have you been able to do that?’ I ask carefully.
‘Since I was old enough to know it wasn’t a good thing,’ he admits. ‘Something told me I had to keep it hidden.’
I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but my sympathy and grief for my baby brother deepen even more. Not only was he stripped of his family and raised by a man who lied to him day in and day out, but he was also forced to keep this a secret. He must have been terrified living with this.
‘And no one else knows?’ I press.
‘Not a soul.’
‘William, you should’ve said something to me.’ Jonas’s voice is tight with hurt; evidently, he wasn’t lying when he said he thought of William as a true brother. ‘I wouldn’t have told anyone.’
‘I did consider it,’ William confesses quietly, ‘but I didn’t want to put you in a bad position. And, well, I thought … I thought my mother …’ He shrugs the words away. ‘It doesn’t matter.’