Chapter 2 #2
Dacian’s fists clenched involuntarily. “I do feel strangely impotent, as if they have taken some vital energy from me.”
Judith bit her lip. “Yes, that is your Impact, by which you can move and crush almost anything. They must have given you a drug called Obruo; it dilutes your Gift.”
He stared down at her. “Perhaps you can help me recover this force? I feel enlivened by your presence already, I confess…” He examined her face again, then his lips tightened. “Are you weaving some spell to manipulate my mood? The bat here says that I must be wary of such enchantments.”
“No spell; just myself.” Judith tried to reach through the bars to offer her hand, but she met with an invisible resistance: a Defence spell, heavy and impenetrable. Under Dacian’s suspicious gaze, she withdrew her hand again, gesturing to the meat pie. “Please take heed, and do not eat this.”
He folded his arms, his handsome face grim in the shadows. “You recommend similarly to the flittermouse.” He nodded towards Wooten.
Wooten drew himself up in outrage. “What did you just call me?”
“A flittermouse.” Dacian raised a brow. “It’s a common name for bats.”
“I am not common, nor am I a flying mouse!” huffed Wooten.
Judith bit back a smile. “His name is Wooten,” she offered. “He also is your dear companion, a vampiri.”
Dacian looked sceptical. “I seem to have sprouted a lot of dear companions rather quickly.”
“We are both your friends,” said Judith. “We are not conspiring against you, I swear.”
“How did you come here, then?”
“Er.” She hesitated. “I used your own Travel charm, actually: a ring. You slipped it onto my finger yourself.”
“Show me.”
Judith grimaced. “I don’t have it; I gave it to someone else for sake-keeping.”
Dacian’s expression twisted into scorn. He backed away from the grate, obviously distrusting her assertions.
Judith could not blame him: he had lost all his bearings and woken in a hostile environment that was clearly a prison, for all its soft furnishings.
It was wise that he be suspicious. Only it hurt that he should narrow his eyes at her with such disdain.
“Even if you do not trust me,” she said firmly, “I will still try to help you.”
Their eyes met, and his gaze softened. It sent warmth running through her, and she felt sure that he must feel it too. But before he could respond, hasty footsteps sounded, descending the far stairwell.
Judith stood quickly, scrambling away from the grate, her fingers hastily adjusting her mobcap. She needed to cling to any authority her age and position gave her, as if this were a ballroom in London and not a military dungeon where women were decidedly unwelcome.
Seconds later, Captain Drumpellier burst through the archway with the guard at his heels.
The captain looked even more rumpled and tired than at their last encounter, his sensitive brow heavily marked with consternation, while the soldier behind him looked wide-eyed with curiosity.
Yvette and Marigold were nowhere to be seen.
“Lady Avely! What in damnation are you doing here?” Drumpellier drew to a halt and thrust out a hand. “Hand over your Travel charm at once, under orders of the Crown and Custos.”
Judith stood her ground, glad at least that Drumpellier’s accusations bore out her story to Dacian. “I will do so when I have your assurance that you will hear my testimony on the duke’s behalf.”
Drumpellier ground his teeth together. “The Custos have their own methods of justice, ma’am, which do not require your interference.”
“Oh? Do you mean Truth Discernment?” enquired Judith calmly. “I am a Truth Discernor myself. Perhaps I may be of assistance.”
“You may not! Now, hand over the charm!”
Dacian watched with interest. “Is this the charm that brought you here?”
“Yes, into the tower of Pendennis Castle,” said Judith, gesturing to their surroundings, hoping that Dacian absorbed the information. “It is a Charm that you gave me, your grace, which you received as a gift from Lord Triskett.”
Dacian frowned. “I do not know that name. Wait, did you say your grace?”
Drumpellier interrupted. “Enough of this. Ltn Greene, escort this woman to Custodian House. Under close watch!”
Ltn Greene shuffled forward nervously, his round face betraying discomfort. “To the guest quarters, sir?”
Drumpellier sighed. “Why not—but stand guard, and this time do not become distracted!”
Judith interrupted. “Can you at least tell me who will be presiding over his grace’s trial?”
“No, I cannot!” Drumpellier glared at her, and she was taken aback, hearing the truth ringing in his voice. How could the captain not know who would pass judgement on Dacian if the trial was in three days’ time?
“Well, whoever it is, they must know that his grace was fooled by a master Illusor and acted under duress when he flung his power at Lord Garvey; and moreover, that a young woman…”
Drumpellier interrupted her, his eyes narrowing. “Not another word, Lady Avely. If you insist on reminding the prisoner of anything more, I will have to renew the dose of Lethe, which I assure you is an outcome you do not want.”
Judith’s lips closed. Her eyes went to Dacian. He was leaning against the wall, peering through the iron bars with his arms folded.
“Who, me?” he said. “No memories here. Who is this young woman you speak of? Is she pretty? Does she wear a mobcap too?”
Judith patted her headgear. “Not one as respectable as mine.”
“Not so much like a mushroom, you mean?”
Drumpellier did not go so far as to wrench Judith’s arm, but it looked as if he wanted to do so.
Instead, he put out a sharp hand, gesturing for her departure.
With Ltn Greene mirroring it, she had no choice but to regally acquiesce, making her way over to the stairs that Yvette had mounted with Ltn Greene behind her.
Before the cell was out of sight, however, she threw one more comment over her shoulder.
“I hope to see you again soon, your grace. At your trial, if not before.”
“The pleasure will be all mine,” called Dacian. His tone was light, but his eyes were still narrowed.
She walked away, her heart aching.
Drumpellier crowded behind, hurrying her up the stairs.
It was only two flights, she noted, before they pushed through another door and came out onto the main grounds of the fort, with grey walls encircling the core.
She took a deep breath of the salt-laden air, cleansing after the dank closeness of the dungeon.
The sound of the waves crashed close by.
Soldiers stood at the ramparts, rifles at their sides, their red coats showing dully in the lantern light.
They were well-trained, however, and did not turn to look at Judith as she passed, her skirts swishing over stone.
She was hurried through the archway, where two more sentries guarded the entrance, and then down a long gravel path.
In front of her was the impressive facade of the new barracks, the windows picked out in white, but Drumpellier led her to the left, where a low-slung stone building was set further back.
It was modest compared to the fort and barracks, but sturdily built and covered by a slate roof.
Drumpellier unlocked the front door and marched in, while Ltn Greene awkwardly waited for Judith to follow.
Inside, Custodian House was simply furnished but elegant, clearly set up for gentlemen officers. The foyer was decorated with a painting of a battle scene, in front of which Drumpellier swung around.
“Hand it over now,” he snapped, “or it will be the worse for you.”