Thrallmagic: Chapter 27

Chapter 27

I lean back from Blathen, curling my lip. “I don’t waste my time on idle threats. Do something, and then we’ll talk.” Deftly stepping under his arm, I walk away from him, every muscle tight in anticipation.

As I expect, he stops me after a few steps, catching my arm and twists me around. A sharp pain shoots through my shoulder and grows stronger as I struggle in his iron grip. “Let go of me, you bastard, and get out of my chambers. Our betrothal ceremony hasn’t even been planned yet.”

He raises an eyebrow, his hand still clenched around my wrist. A long moment passes before he lets go of me, cold eyes glittering with victory. “As you wish. I’ll see you for breakfast in the morn, princess.”

When he smiles at me, a chill creeps its way up my back and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. He disappears down the corridor quickly enough, and I shut and lock the door, hands shaking as my false bravado falls away, leaving only my fear. I sink to the floor and grip my head, clutching my hair in a death grip. Pain pulses along my arm and shoulder, and when I stand slowly, another sharp pain shoots up my arm.

The castle is quiet as I walk into the bathing room and sit down at the washbasin. I unlace myself laboriously with one hand before letting the damp fabric of the dress drop to the floor. A quick wave of my hand at the small tub of water heats it up, and I dip a small towel in it and clean myself in the moonlight. My silver-gold tattoos gleam as I pat myself dry and comb through my hair. Slipping a thin chemise on, I pad into my bedroom and crawl into the bed, welcoming the warmth of the room.

A pale moon looks down on me through the curtains, and I wonder at the sudden calm outside. The snow has settled into great banks that the servants will shovel away tomorrow. The years’ end will come soon. What will the next bring? I laugh at myself, but the smile dies from my lips as I consider what is to come.

“You’ll find a way out. Of course you will.” I whisper aloud to myself, hoping to glean some comfort from it, but I only sound like I’m trying to convince myself, so I fall silent again.

Captain Fenthclann is probably being tortured right now. You ordered that. You ordered for Lindon to do that. The dark mutterings of my mind never cease, and I swallow, trying to dispel the lump in my throat.

“Lin leads the Wild Hunt. He’s done much worse. He hunts down those the goddess chooses to punish. He’s probably tortured men before.” I nod to myself, knowing that though it is all true, it will take me an eternity to forget my actions tonight.

I search inside me for some regret, some sorrow. After all, Captain Fenthclann was being forced to do that, wasn’t he? Should I have shown him some leniency?

With a desperate groan, I throw a pillow at the wall with my good arm. “Is that why I keep thinking about it? Because I’m sorry?” A gasping sob escapes my lips. “Or do I obsess with it because I’m sorry that I don’t regret ordering his death?”

“I think it’s a bit of both, Rionach.”

I startle, stifling a scream, and sit up. “Who’s there? Come into the light, or I’ll torch you where you stand!”

A low, warm, laugh echoes through the room, and Alexander steps into the firelight a moment later. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I only came to give you this.” He holds out the bundle of damask and my cloak.

I sigh in relief and gesture for him to put them down on my nightstand. “How did you even get in? And how long have you been in here?”

Alexander shrugs, sitting down in front of the fire. “I slipped through the door after your betrothed- Prince Blathen- left.”

The mention of Blathen’s name makes me wrap my arms around myself. “Well, why didn’t you come out?”

He shrugs uncomfortably. “I- ah- you were-“

A blush heats my cheeks, and I look away from him, suddenly interested in my bedsheets very much. Clearing my throat, I say, “Well, you should have known better than to come into my bedroom.”

An awkward silence fills the room when a thought occurs to me. “You- you didn’t watch me dress, did you?” My voice squeaks on the last word, and I cough.

Alexander’s cheeks flame bright red, and I bite at a nail. “I didn’t expect that you wouldn’t have- that you weren’t wearing- “ He cuts himself off, shaking his head.

I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “Why are you here, anyway?”

He shrugs, moving a bit closer and perching on the end of my bed. “I wanted to make sure you were alright. And I thought you’d want whatever is rolled up in this.” Alexander waves the damask bundle in the air before setting it on the nightstand.

Rolling up his shirtsleeves, he leans back onto his elbows. The back of his head barely brushes my leg as he grins lazily at me. “Are you alright?”

I lean forward, resting my chin on my hands. “I will be. He’s not the first person to threaten me.” Or the first who’s scared me.

Alexander nods. “Of course not. But he might be the first you take seriously.” He considers me, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. A beam of moonlight that escapes the curtains glances off of his jaw.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem quite real to me.” I smile at him. “If you’re going to be here, let’s not speak of such things. Tell me about Lysian. What’s it like?”

Running a hand through his hair, he says, “Well, our castle is built on the highest mountain there is. It’s desperately ugly in the summer- nothing but grey rock and pathetic weeds- but in the winter…” His voice trails off, and he gazes into the distance. “There are blankets and blankets of snow everywhere. Tiny little icicles catch the light, and the valley shines like a thousand diamonds. When the sun sets, the mountains catch fire, and turn red and purple and orange.”

Looking at me, he says, “It’s nothing, perhaps, compared to your ‘land o’ silver and gold’, but it is beautiful. In its own way.”

I swallow, mouth suddenly gone dry, and slip out of the bed, needing some air. “It certainly sounds beautiful.” I pour myself a glass of wine and slip out onto the balcony, leaving the delicate glass doors open for Alexander to decide whether or not to join me. The cold air bites at my skin, but I pay it no mind.

A moment later, he does. “Quite the view you’ve got.” The gardens and the courtyard are dark, and empty, but the city lights glimmer in the distance. Will o’ the wisps dance in little corners, disappearing and reappearing every second.

I nod absently, twisting a strand of hair around my finger. “It’s not terrible.”

We say no more, standing in companiable silence until the sky lightens. Alexander bows to me. “I should go, then, Rionach. Good day to you.” He catches my hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a light kiss against it before vanishing out the door.

I close the balcony doors and hide the damask bundle in a secret drawer in my vanity. As I slip back into bed, I smile to myself, tired but not sleepy. The scullery maids come in to replace the wood and stoke the fires, and my ladies-in-waiting filter in soon after that. As dawn approaches, I strip off my clothes and change into a relatively clean tunic and pants. A little practice with my new swords might do me good.

I stare glumly at the swords as Lindon polishes them. They gleam in the afternoon light, their hilts sparkling. 

“I can’t afford to learn how to use those now, Lindon. We have so many other things to worry about.” I sigh when he doesn’t listen and hands them to me, hilt first. “Are you even listening to me? Why do you want me to use these?”

He glances towards the cover of the trees, and shrugs casually as he brings a finger to his lips slowly, quieting me. He turns unhurriedly, gesturing me forward with one hand, a playful smile on his lips. I almost believe that nothing is wrong, but his jaw is clenched tightly and his hands are balled into fists.

As soon as we duck behind a tree, Lindon grabs my hand and breaks into a sprint. Heavy footfalls echo behind us, and I put my head down to run even faster. The swords I hold whistle through the air. 

A small dagger embeds itself in a tree next to my head, and Lindon pulls me faster, until my feet are stumbling over themselves and my breath comes in gasps. My lungs and throat burn as I suck in the cold air. Suddenly, Lindon throws himself against me, pushing us both into a small circle of birch trees. Their slender trunks reach up to the sky, and thin covers of ice have frozen onto their branches. 

Without a pause, Lindon lifts me up to the first branch. I swing an arm over it, shivering as the ice melts and seeps into my tunic. I hand the swords back down to him and swing myself up to the next branch, careful to choose ones that I think will old my weight. Lindon quickly straps the swords to his back and swings up next to me. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he braces himself against the tree trunk. 

A man sprints out from under the trees, and Lindon and I stay as still as we possibly can, our hands wrapped around our weapons. Lindon quietly steps closer to the trunk, and I gesture wildly to him before I realise that I can send him a thought. What are you doing? Where are you going? Stay here, and he might think we outran us. 

Lindon shakes his head vigorously, his dark blue hair flopping against the bare white branches. Do you really think that whoever that is, they wouldn’t think to look up? He managed to watch us for a good bit before I noticed him, I think. He’s good, Ria. He’ll find us, so let’s leave before he can.

I cock my head, confused. Leave? How do you propose we do that? He’s standing right there, Lindon. If he’s as good as you say, he’ll hear us leaving. 

A wide grin splits Lindon’s face, making him look a little insane. You don’t think my position has given me a few tricks? He winks, and as I watch, his form shimmers slowly, fading until he looks like nothing more than a shadow of a large bird. But when he rests his hand on a branch, it doesn’t pass through him like it would through a ghost or a sprite. Instead, it shimmers, but holds, and when he lays a hand on my shoulder, it feels warm, and solid, as usual.

You didn’t mention that you could do this! I glare at him, but when he does nothing except look back innocently, I grin. But at least it will be useful. Can you be heard when you’re this way? I chance a look at the man who is following us and look away again when he begins to walk further into the trees. He has dark skin- darker than anything I’ve seen- and his skin appears rough, almost scaly. I furrow my brow, wondering what he is.

Lindon shrugs, a faint look of worry passing over his face. I can still be heard, I think. I’ve never really had a chance to check. 

I shrug. Well, then, just use the wind to mask your sounds. Although it grows complicated quickly when trying to mask another person’s noise with wind magic, it’s fairly simple when it was applied to oneself.

Oddly, though, Lindon doesn’t nod and oblige like I expect him to. It’ll be fine, Ria. I don’t think I can be heard quite as much when I’m this way. Now, come here. He gestures to a branch close by to him. 

I frown, but step onto the branch carefully, praying that my boots won’t slip on the slick ice. Wait, why not? It’ll be easier. And safer.

Reaching over, Lindon pulls me onto his shoulder, tossing me over his back like a sack of flour. I’ll explain later, Ria, alright? Just let me concentrate for now. I swear to you, I won’t let anything happen. We move slowly, and Lindon leaps to the ground carefully. Not even a leaf bends underneath our combined weights, and I marvel at his newfound ability.

We pad along the wet leaves, and as soon as we reach the tree line, Lindon puts me on the ground, and we take off running.

“What in Triad’s name do you think he is?” I gasp to Lindon as we sprint for our lives. “I didn’t think anything could keep up with fae!”

His voice is hoarse and tinged with fear when she shouts back, “He’s nothing you’ve ever met, trust me. Now, hurry. We need to get out of this bloody dead wood before we’re dead.”

I twist my ankle on a clump of icy leaves and fall to my knees, but Lindon yanks me to my feet and pulls me onward. “We have to go, Ria!”

I frown at him as pain bursts behind my bad shoulder, but don’t spit a rejoinder because I’m too out of breath. An angry roar fills the air behind us, and a rapid tumble of words fill the air in a language I don’t understand. Lindon pushes me in front of him, and I spin around, stopping in my tracks.

“What are you doing?” He shakes his head at me before sticking his fingers in his mouth and uttering three short whistles.

“Go, Ria. I’ve got him, and the Hunt will be here soon.” Lindon doesn’t turn around to face me as he speaks, and as the crashing gets closer, he gestures for me to run as he ducks behind a tree. 

A moment of indecision takes over me, but after a desperate glance back, I send my prayers to the Triad and take off toward the castle at the fastest run I can manage. Before long, sounds of fighting echo back to me, and as I run, I gnaw my lip guiltily. What if he dies? What will you do then? But silent shadows move gracefully past me and I sigh as I recognize the Wild Hunt. The last of them suddenly materializes and turns, stepping into pace with me. 

As I pant in the cold air, he turns to me calmly, not even breaking his stride as he says, “I’m to watch over you, to make sure you get to the palace alright.”

A stitch grows in my side as I run, and I fall to my knees, out of breath. We wandered further than I thought we did, and I’m running on an hour of sleep to show for just about the past week or so. 

“I can’t run any further.” I gasp for air, wishing my throat isn’t so dry. “I’m sorry.”
He just looks at me for a moment before bending down and scooping me into his arms. “Well, my orders were clear. I’m to see you safely back to the castle.” Throwing me over his back like a sack of potatoes, he breaks into a run, my head flopping against his calves.

I recover my breath soon enough and thump on his back. “Put me down, I can walk for myself.”

He promptly lets me go, and I barely avoid crashing headfirst into the ground. Even so, my arm twists oddly, and as I stand, clutching it, the young warrior looks uneasy. 

“Really? I told you to put me down, not to split my brains open.” Glaring into empty space, I spot the castle and march toward it, mind spinning with questions about Lindon. As I approach the castle, I spy a large white hat making a beeline towards me and the huntsman. He quickly shimmers, taking shadow form and hiding in the nearby foliage.