Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
brEN
Rian had not yet arrived for work when I parked my truck in front of the castle the following morning. I was glad for it. I needed to speak with Selene and didn’t want to worry about him overhearing our conversation.
My face was met with a fine mist as I glanced up at the tower house when I stepped out. For the first time in a long time, it felt cool and refreshing on my skin and not like just an annoyance.
Opening up to Selene had cleared the way for that, and I was grateful we could talk as two normal people. It had been ages since I’d cared what someone thought of me other than Cormac.
That had all changed. Living with her silence and bland stares had been unbearable, and I looked forward to seeing her smile that morning.
The gravel crunched beneath my boots as I increased my pace, and I nearly made it to the door before a reminder of my oath-bound duty slipped in.
Christ. How could I forget something so important?
I paused where I was and opened my silver to the Veil, searching it, waiting for the pulses in my blood to quicken. When none came, I nodded to myself, confirming all was well, and made my way into the tower house.
I sensed Selene’s gaze upon me the moment I stepped inside. I turned in her direction, and the quiet smile on her face burrowed deep into me. I dipped my head in greeting. “Morning.”
Her smile widened. “Morning.”
Maeve glanced my way as well. “Morning to you, Bren. There’s fresh coffee if you care for some.” She snorted, laughing at herself. “Selene and I were late getting to bed last night, so I made sure there’s plenty.”
I gave her a proper nod of thanks. “Sounds good. I’ll head up straightaway.”
I hated that my gaze slid back to Selene while Maeve still watched, but I couldn’t help it. Had she remained awake for mundane reasons, or had something happened?
Selene held my gaze for a moment before she turned to her friend. “I’m going to grab a refill too. Are you ready for that second, or is it your third cup?”
She arched a saucy brow. “A refill, you say.” She slowly and deliberately turned her gaze to me and then glanced back to her friend. “I’ll be fine. You two enjoy your coffee break.”
Selene huffed lightly at her before turning to me with a smile that dazzled me. “Are you coming?”
I threw my jacket toward my chair, missed, and continued toward the stairs anyway. Maeve chuckled, and there was no reason for it but us. I should have cared, but I didn’t.
I met Selene at the stone archway leading to the narrow staircase inside it. I gestured for her to go first and followed two steps behind her, careful not to get close enough to touch.
After what I’d done the previous night, I no longer trusted myself.
The space in the narrow stairwell was tight, necessary in case of attacks, though certainly none had arrived while my father lived here.
The scent of honeysuckle drifted from her hair as we climbed upward, and I recalled the times I’d fallen down those same steps when I was young and careless, bruising myself on the stone walls before I came to a stop.
I longed to tell Selene of those moments, of what it was like growing up in such a place. But how could I?
She had enough to manage, and if she knew my age, the centuries I’d lived through, it might change the way she looked at me.
I couldn’t bear that.
Her chuckle caught me, and I glanced up to see her looking over her shoulder. “I probably shouldn’t admit this since I’m the project’s restoration specialist. But I didn’t even question why the great hall wasn’t high in the house like it should be.”
I slowed my steps since she had. “That’s true for most tower houses.”
She continued upward, passing the narrow arrow loop on the outer wall that left a thin shaft of light between us. “Any idea why whoever built this one deviated?”
I’d wait until we reached the kitchen level, preferring to see Selene’s face when I answered. When she stepped through the opening, I followed her out into a wider space, with a ceiling lower than the hall below, the stone dark from age rather than damp.
When we were this close, it was hard not to notice our difference in height, and how small she seemed, though she was anything but fragile.
“The inlay existed before the castle. The building went up around it, and I suppose they liked the convenience of having the portal in the great hall instead of it being surrounded by storage.”
She was quiet for a moment and then nodded. “Makes sense. It’s too beautiful not to be on display for all to see.”
A short, wondering breath escaped her. “I still struggle with the idea of gods and a different realm being somewhere behind an unseen veil. I’m not denying it, because I’ve seen too much to the contrary.
But knowing I come to work each day and pass by something created by a divine being is a little unreal. ”
The strangeness for me had never been proximity to gods. It had been the moment the boundary sealed. The knowledge that my father existed somewhere on the other side of it, unreachable, and that I had been left here to carry on the work of it alone.
I wondered if my father had ever heard of my mother’s passing, of those who’d killed her.
I nodded, accepting her comment. “Yet, how many religious histories teach the same thing? Earth was created by a god in seven days. When you die, you go to heaven. How is that different?”
Selene blinked and looked away as she thought. Then shrugged. “I guess it isn’t.”
“It’s that you’ve heard one version your entire life, and the other is new.”
She studied my face in a way that left me warm. “You’re right.”
I said nothing.
The kitchen was the room that had changed the most since the day I’d left. After my mother died and with me away doing guardian work, others had occupied the castle. Improvements had been made over the years before the building was abandoned. But the large hearth oven remained.
One of the construction workers had set up a folding table in front of it, large enough to hold a coffee pot and the necessary accompaniments. I’d purchased the small fridge, and both were connected to the generator that provided temporary power to the castle.
Selene strode forward, and I watched as she filled two cups with coffee. Her slender hands moved with grace and seemed so delicate compared to mine. She held out a steaming cup to me with a smile, but the moment I accepted it, her expression dimmed.
She added sugar to hers and turned back to me. “Did Cillian contact you?”
It occurred to me that her lack of sleep might have been caused by worry. “No. I think it’s safe to say he felt nothing. He’s not the type of man who’d sit on something like that.”
The stiffness in her eased, and a version of her smile returned. “I might wonder if our discussion last night distracted him, but you’re right. He would have warned at least one of us.”
I tilted my head in delighted interest. “You had words then? And how did that go?”
Selene blew on her coffee and sipped before she answered. “Other than the number of whiskeys he drank, he didn’t seem overly ruffled.”
I nodded, enjoying the tell.
“He admitted to his lies, to manipulating me into working for him.” Her expression grew irritated as she scoffed.
“He did something to Maeve, probably Clara too, to make her believe she’d worked in her current position longer than she has.
Maeve argued with him about it one moment, and then she acted as if nothing had happened. ”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “He brushed it off as if his manipulation meant nothing. I wonder how many times he’s done that to me.”
I’d suspected Cillian had powers I wasn’t aware of, but this confirmed it. “Maybe none. Don’t you think if he could alter your memories that way, we wouldn’t be having this conversation?”
Her breathing slowed, and she blinked. “Do you think that’s possible?”
I took a moment to consider before answering. “I do. The man likes order. Having to deal with you regarding this is messy. He’d avoid it if he could.”
Her face brightened, and I enjoyed watching it.
She nodded thoughtfully before meeting my gaze again. “I understand why he did it. Just not the means he used.”
I longed to verbally condemn the man, but I couldn’t.
Selene turned from me, strolling farther into the kitchen, glancing from floor to ceiling as she headed toward where I’d slept as a boy. “It feels different up here, don’t you think? The great hall is impressive and certainly has its own personality.”
She touched the wall as she moved over the stones. “But this floor is where ordinary life took place. It might sound weird, but I feel as if I can sense remnants of the people who’d lived here. I’m sure there was illness and disagreements, but overall, I sense contentment.”
She turned to smile at me, and, for a moment, I had no answer.
Selene stood in the residue of my childhood and didn’t know it. I had not allowed myself to return to that stretch of time in longer than I could easily calculate, and I did not know what to do with the fact of her standing in it now.
She turned from me and stepped beneath an arch and into a separate room. One I had been careful to avoid.
But I couldn’t now, not without drawing attention.
The room was small and mostly empty. A narrow window admitted pale gray light.
The plaster along the upper wall had cracked and come away in sheets over the years, exposing bare stone beneath.
Dust lay across the floor in an even, undisturbed layer.
A single wooden chair near the window, which had been there as long as I could remember, was all that remained of anything that had once made the space livable.
Selene walked through it, and I suspected her instincts told her more than I would have. She pulled at a broken piece of remaining plaster, and it fell to the floor. “This should be fun when we get to this level.”
I remained quiet and watched her move through the space that contained many ghosts for me.
Eventually, she reached the window and glanced out. “I imagine it could get quite gloomy for the children who slept here with so little light.”
I nodded slowly, remembering. “They likely spent much time outdoors.”
She cocked her head as she studied something lower, speaking as if her attention was elsewhere. “I’m sure you’re right.”
She crouched and leaned in. “Come look at this.”
I stepped forward, careful not to get too close.
Selene had found the mark on the lower stone beside the window, a small moon symbol carved into the face of the block, crude and determined, the work of someone with more enthusiasm than skill.
I knew the symbol because I’d made it. I couldn’t recall how old I’d been when my parents explained my birthright to me.
My father had told me about Selmira. About what my blood carried and how the moonlight moved differently around him and me than around other people.
How it would answer to me when I was old enough.
She lifted her gaze to me, smiling. “It’s a symbol of your heritage, right? I wonder which of your ancestors made it?”
I pretended fascination. “A child, I’m sure. Someone who loved the moon.”
Her expression warmed, and she laughed. “Yes. That’s the feeling I get from this floor. People who felt loved.”
Until it was all torn apart.
I turned and made my way back toward the kitchen, hovering just past the opening, eager to leave. Selene continued her perusal before turning to me with a smile. “Maybe one day you or someone in your family will live here again.”
Thinking of the future was preferable to the memories. “If you’re asking if I’ll regain ownership, I can promise you I will.”
She agreed with a nod and returned to me, tilting her head up to face me. “If Cillian didn’t notice when you touched my hand, maybe things aren’t as dire as you believed.”
I chuckled at her defiance. “Have you had that in the back of your mind this entire time?”
She shrugged. “I mean, it’s possible, right?”
I gazed at the hope glimmering in her eyes. “It’s not worth putting you in danger.”
Selene bit her bottom lip. I sensed the argument coming and cut her off. “We can’t. Okay? Not until we know the exact threat, and maybe not even then.”
The look in her eyes tugged at me, but it couldn’t be. “Look, I feel it too, okay? I understand. But the cost is too high.”
Her gaze turned dejected as it slid past me. “Okay then. We should probably get back down before Maeve imagines things.”
I agreed with a nod, fully aware it was already too late for that.
If I’d known that following her upstairs would end with me standing in a room I’d avoided for hundreds of years, listening to her describe the happiness stored in its stones, and suggesting we could have a future, I would have declined.
For now, I hoped rejecting her suggestion wouldn’t lead us back into uncomfortable silence.