Chapter 43
Forty-Three
Mila’s Cabin
We woke before dawn and made our way to Mila’s cabin. As we grew closer to the parts of the mountains that were familiar to me, my heart ached. With grief. With homesickness.
The smell of Mila’s herb garden stung my nose long before I saw the wooden building. She had always grown strange things that weren’t meant to go into the cookpot, and as a child I had been afraid to set foot in her garden. Now it was the thing that comforted me as we grew close.
Puko was restless, no doubt sensing how close we were to his old home.
A dusting of snow covered everything within sight. Thain let me lead the way as we came up the dirt path and I opened the door.
The inside was empty of life. The shelves that usually overflowed with jars of herbs and solutions were nearly empty, only scraps and a few empty containers remaining.
Her books were gone, her furniture was dusty, and her wardrobe was open and bare.
I was a little surprised to see that none of the mountain people had tried to take any of the good furniture, or at least the empty jars on the shelves, but maybe they were still too afraid to steal from a witch.
“What is this place?” Nassir frowned, moving his head around the room as he took in the strange smells.
“The abandoned home of Mila the witch,” I answered. “And before you say anything, she was my friend. And I wonder if she was my mother’s friend too.”
I had begun to suspect Mila might have answers I sought, but that would mean that she’d kept those answers from me for all these years, and I couldn’t bear that truth.
Not yet. I pushed the thoughts away and picked up the broom she always kept by the door.
I used it to brush off as much dust as I could from the chairs, table, and bed.
“Nassir, I’m sure you’re tired. Can I show you to the bed to sit while we discuss our next move?” I asked.
“I will sit wherever you put me,” he answered. “I am at your mercy.”
“Here,” Thain said as he helped Nassir find the mattress. His eyes widened as he sat on a soft bed for the first time in hundreds of years. Sorrow clenched a fist around my heart for him, then anger for what DuVarick had done.
“All right.” Thain sighed, taking a seat at the wooden table and looking a bit uncomfortable in his new surroundings.
“If DuVarick is really going to harm Schula at the solstice, he’s going to do it publicly.
There’s something about Schula that you don’t know.
I wasn’t going to say anything—Eberon and I were going to let her tell you in her own time—but I think at this point you need to know. ”
I took the other seat at the table and asked apprehensively, “What is it?”
“Schula is from the Winter Court,” Thain started. “And she has a complicated history with DuVarick.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, nervously playing with the end of a braid.
“I don’t even know where to begin. I’m not sure the humans in this part of the world have this concept. Do you know of any rulers who keep many lovers for their bed?” Thain was trying to explain and was clearly a little uncomfortable with the subject.
“No, how do you have more than one lover?” I asked.
“You could consider them like the courtiers you saw in Baeleon’s presence.
There to bask in the edges of his power, mingling with other influential or useful courtesans.
In Icehold, members of prominent families sometimes send daughters to accrue power for their families in the bedroom.
” Thain sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Stars, this is hard.”
“Schula wasn’t one of those, was she?” I asked, panic seeping into my voice. “DuVarick doesn’t have those, does he?”
“No, no.” Thain growled in frustration. “I wish Eberon were here for this. Schula wasn’t one of DuVarick’s lovers, but she was the daughter of one. Do you understand?”
“DuVarick has a daughter?” Nassir hissed.
“What?” I whispered.
Thain leaned forward, elbows on the table as he rubbed his temples.
“DuVarick kept many courtesans in his quarters, daughters given to him as gifts from the noble families of Icehold mostly, in order to produce offspring. There would be no stronger connection to the king than that. With conception being so difficult for the fae, there is no guarantee that a monogamous relationship will grant you offspring. Even if it did, you could wait centuries for it. The practice has been around since the courts began; it’s not a new concept to the Wyldes, even if it’s not often used anymore.
When DuVarick began collecting courtesans, no one batted an eye. ”
“So why would he hate Schula so much?” I asked.
“Her mother was particularly beautiful. She was smart and had a lovely singing voice. Many others in the court coveted her, so DuVarick began hiding his women away. They weren’t allowed to be seen by anyone but him and his advisers.
Most called them the frost flowers. A garden for only DuVarick to enjoy.
When Schula’s mother fell pregnant, DuVarick was suspicious that the child wouldn’t be his.
There was jealousy among the frost flowers, as you can imagine, and plenty of nasty stories circled Icehold about her.
DuVarick treated her miserably until the birth, half-believing the whispers in his court, and when Schula came out looking just like her mother with little discernible likeness to DuVarick, he killed her. ”
Nassir and I gasped at the same time.
“How could he?” I cried, trying to imagine them side by side. “They had multiple similarities, didn’t they?”
Thain shook his head. “As many similarities as much of the Winter Court would have with one another. Their eyes were both blue but different shades. The skin was pale on both of them, but Schula does not have his blue tinting and neither did her mother. He was looking for a clear sign the child was his and apparently did not find one.”
Nassir growled. “He’s not who I once called friend. He hasn’t been for a very long time.”
“So, is Schula his child or not?” I asked.
“We can’t really say. And with the only fae who would know the truth now dead, there will never be a way to know for sure.
At any rate, no one stepped forward to claim Schula, since that would be a death sentence.
Not even her mother’s family. Instead, just in case she showed signs of being DuVarick’s blood, she was kept in the inner holdings with the rest of the frost flowers. ”
“But she could have been his heir!” I said.
Thain shrugged. “We don’t have heirs, not in the way you’re thinking.
But she would have been a blood connection to the king, and that’s why the families had sent their daughters to him.
Schula grew up under scrutiny, never able to please him and never able to fit in with the flowers because of who she might be.
One day, when she had truly displeased him, she ran off rather than face whatever punishment he had for her.
I can’t remember what she had even done anymore.
But she ran. She explored the rest of the Wyldes, then she came to Thanantholl, and she found us.
There was no returning after that. She broke her bond with the Winter Lands and joined us in Autumn. ”
“What did DuVarick do?” Nassir said, his voice low and angry.
Thain grimaced and scratched his jaw. “Banned her from Icehold.”
My chest tightened. “But she came back because of me. And we weren’t even in Icehold when Asher dragged her back. It wasn’t her fault!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Thain said. “You have to understand the Wyldes: it doesn’t matter what circumstances got you into a situation, it’s up to your strength to get yourself out. What you’ve seen so far may have seemed peaceful, but we have a long and bloody history with no room for the weak in it.”
“No.” I pulled my knees to my chest, resting my feet on the chair where I sat. “So how do we get her out of there?”
Nassir shifted on the bed, fidgeting to get comfortable. “Thain, is the solstice still a ball?”
“I think so,” he said. “But we should try to get to her before the solstice.”
“I would agree with you, but if I know DuVarick, he has eyes on her at all times. Our best bet is when she’s in motion between her prison and the ball. Is it still a masquerade ball?” Nassir asked.
“I wouldn’t know,” Thain said. “Even with masks on, Wren and certainly you would be recognized right away.”
“Not as servants we wouldn’t be,” Nassir said.
“The servants would always wear identical masks, and the uniforms are all the same. Or they used to be. We could go all over Icehold as servants, and as long as we stayed out of the ballroom, we should be strong enough to conceal ourselves from DuVarick.”
“Hmm.” Thain looked out the window into the frosted herb garden. He was quiet for a long time. “Wren, maybe, but not you. He would feel you.”
I stared anxiously at Nassir. I already felt close to him, and I didn’t want to hurt him when he’d just gotten his freedom, but surely him coming with us would be a burden, and his information was centuries old.
“I think we need to do a little spying first.” Thain finally spoke.
“How long do we have?” I asked anxiously.
“Five days, which is why we need to move fast,” he answered.
“Do you have anyone in mind that could help?” I asked.
“Yes,” Thain and Nassir said simultaneously.
I blinked in surprise. “Both of you?”
“Eberon or one of his people could do it easily,” Thain said, giving Nassir the same concerned look I was.
“If they survived this long, my family will help us,” Nassir said confidently. “If not my father, one of my siblings or their children.”
I had an idea too, but I wasn’t ready to tell Thain just yet. And I certainly wouldn’t tell Schula, provided we got her out. No, we would get her out. It was just a matter of how.
“Why don’t you both try?” I suggested. “Surely more eyes would be better? We can find out what the ball will be like and maybe find out where Schula is being held.”
“It’s been so long,” Nassir said. “If only I could get a letter to them. I could try to reach them through meditation, but I’m so out of practice I don’t know if I can.”
“I can reach Eberon within a day if I go alone,” Thain said. “If we do this, I have to go quickly.”
“Do it,” I said. “And Nassir, try to meditate. It would be good for you anyway. You’re a free fae now, and you should build your strength. If you can’t reach your family this way, we’ll try something else.”
“Will you be all right?” Thain asked, concerned.
I laughed and gestured out the window. “I’ll be better than you realize. These are my mountains. I know them like the back of my hand, and I can take care of us until you get back. Go.”
He nodded and left, not once looking back. When he was finally out of sight, I turned to Nassir, only to find he was already breathing evenly and trying to meditate.
I left quietly and decided to rummage through the garden for whatever I might be able to find that was edible.
The rest of the day I spent finding wood and gathering food. I even checked my old trapping spots that weren’t too far away and was able to save a few of my old ropes and tools. I set them up closer to Mila’s cabin and hoped for meat for breakfast.
I came back in the evening and began a stew for us. Mila hadn’t taken her cooking pot; it was probably too heavy, and she wouldn’t need it wherever she had gone with her coven.
After dinner, I shared a few mountain songs with Nassir. It was clear he was tired from trying so hard to meditate. He fell asleep on the bed after a while, and I searched the cabin for more supplies.
It wasn’t until I came across a single sheet of paper that my earlier idea began to take real form.
I scrambled in the fading light to find something to write with. I grabbed some charcoal from the fireplace and carefully formed the letters I was looking for.
As the last rays of light left us, I folded the paper carefully and approached Puko in his window perch.
“Puko,” I whispered. “Puko, do you think you can deliver a letter?”
I had seen him do it for Mila before, but I wasn’t sure how she got him to agree to it.
He looked me in the eye with a soft caw and snatched the letter from my hand.
“Hey!” I hissed as he flapped around in the window and turned to face me. It was as though he was waiting for something.
I stared wide-eyed at him when I realized he was waiting for the recipient. Someone who would have a reason to enter DuVarick’s court. Someone it might be useful to know inside the palace. Better yet, someone who might already be there now.
The thing about odd birds like yours, they can find their feathers again if you have need of me.
“Krissaph,” I whispered.
And Puko flew away.