Chapter Eighteen
It took some finagling on Adair’s behalf; however, he managed to get me an audience with Sabine. They imprisoned her in the tower, and often times, while going about the palace, I found my eyes drawn there, wondering how she fared. The prison guard led Earvin, who never left my side as of late, and I up the wending stairs. The drab, gray walls recalled the vision from Adair’s reading. I never asked him about the hand beckoning to him. I wondered now who it had been.
We reached the top floor, and as I had seen in the vision, a long corridor awaited us. At the far end, a rounded-top wooden door loomed. I paused at the top of the steps, hesitant to proceed further. A thought eluded my grasp, and I concentrated, trying to make sense of this peculiar feeling. Earvin’s gentle hand at my elbow brought me from my reverie. I dismissed the thought and followed the guard down to the end of the hall. Upon reaching the door, he extracted a ring of keys. They jangled as he inserted them into the lock.
The door creaked as it swung open, and my heart fluttered with anticipation. The guard stepped inside first before gesturing for us to follow. Inside, Sabine sat below a window set high up in the wall. Outside of it, storm clouds gathered, and the patter of the rain on the sill echoed through the barren chamber.
She turned to face me, and relief washed over her face, exaggerating the circles beneath her eyes. I held my emotions in check in an attempt to be strong for her sake. We strode across the chamber to one another, and I enveloped her in an embrace. She clung to the back of my dress, not speaking, merely holding onto me.
“You have five minutes,” the guard snarled and then stomped out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
“Maea, is it really you, or is this a cruel dream?”
“I am here, and I bring good tidings.”
Her shoulders relaxed as we pulled apart to face one another. I kept her hand in mine, squeezing it gently.
“I would be glad to hear something with a spirit of cheer.”
“Adair has a plan to free you. He is calling the Order of the Oak together to—” I stopped. Sabine’s expression had transformed from hopeful to closed. She withdrew from my grasp and turned away from me.
“That is good news, indeed. I am sure they will be able to think of something.”
I touched her shoulder; the tension had returned. “You are not pleased. I thought you would be happy to hear the news.”
Sabine turned back to me and smiled. “I am very grateful to you, Maea. You have done more for me than I could ever hope to return. However the Order—and I do not mean to insult you by doubting your plan—they have certain goals in mind, some that I fear may not be to our benefit.”
“Adair has told me plainly that they seek only the betterment of the kingdom.”
“And I am sure they have honorable intentions at heart, but the whispers say otherwise. They have many influential and ambitious men among their number.”
Her doubt stung, and with it, I began to second-guess my convictions. “What are you saying?”
Earvin shuffled his feet behind me, and they scraped along the stone floor. I imagined him reaching for a sword he did not have; the guards had searched him and removed all his weapons. I held my hand up over my shoulder, warning him to stand down.
“I just do not want you to get hurt, Maea, not because of me.” Her eyes darted over my shoulder, presumably towards Earvin. Did she fear speaking freely in front of Earvin? I wished we had more time to share to get the answers to the questions that Sabine’s uncertainty brought to mind.
I touched her arm, and she faced me one more time with a forced smile. The guard rapped on the door, signaling that our time was up. “I will free you, I swear.”
She placed her hand over mine and said no more. I left there unable to shake the uncertain feeling. What if Sabine was right and the Order had ill intentions? I trusted Adair. However, the order itself was another matter.
Adair arrived to escort me to the meeting of the Order. Sabine’s doubts continued to plague my mind, and I had spent more than one sleepless night. A full month had passed since her imprisonment.
It had taken that long to gather all the members, and my last hope in saving Sabine rested in their influence, the same that she doubted. Royal servants assisted me into a carriage, and Earvin took a seat beside the driver. As I climbed inside, a pattering of rain began to fall on the roof of the carriage. Winter had arrived with all of its dreary gray skies.
Adair sat across from me in the carriage seat, a rakish grin in place. I smiled and then stared out the rain-streaked carriage windows.
“Maea, you are being quiet tonight.”
I jolted from my thoughts and looked at him. “I apologize. Something Sabine said has been on my mind.”
“What is that?”
“She’s concerned about the Order’s motives.”
Adair measured me with a look before sighing. “I will not deceive you. There are those among our number who seek more than the greater good, those that have recently come to prominence.”
I thought of Duke Sixton and the influx of merchants in Keisan’s court. “There are many like this among you?”
“Among us,” he corrected with a smirk.
I twisted the ring upon my finger. I had almost forgotten I, too, was numbered among the Order.
“A few, we are nothing without numbers, but we are selective about whom we choose and who makes the decisions.”
“What could they be after, the merchants?” I thought of Sabine in the Hall of Entertainment, surrounded by merchants. Did she fear those vying for her attention?
He did not blink an eye at my deduction; perhaps he expected it of me. “The same thing many men want: power. They were not born as those among the houses with title and a place. They want to be like them, and so they emulate us.”
“Are you sure they can be trusted?” Though Adair seemed confident, I could not be sure. Sabine’s uncertainty continued to plague my thoughts.
“Positive.” He smiled, and I tried to put it from my mind and trust him.
Our coach pulled up to Duke Wodell’s home, where the council held its gathering. I had met him once, though I doubt he remembered. It was shortly after the victory against the Biski, and I am sure he had more important things on his mind at the time than remembering a lady at court.
I spied his home through the curtains of the carriage window, despite the drizzling rain. The two-story building emerged from the gray mist that pervaded everything as of late. The whitewashed exterior contrasted the gloom, as did the accents of red along the window trim. Double doors were set under a pair of marble colonnades that supported an arch. Servants dressed in black livery with a white thorn of House Wodell upon their breasts aisled the doorway. One of them ran forward with a parasol to escort us into the house.
Adair took my arm at the first opportunity and led me up the short stairwell into the townhouse.
In the receiving room, the duke and his wife awaited. The duke, a man of late middle age, ebony hair streaked with gray at the temples, greeted us with a smile.
“Adair, my boy!” They embraced, clapping one another on the back.
The duchess, pale and stern, eyed me with apparent displeasure. I realized belatedly we had been introduced when I had first arrived at Keisan. At the time, I only knew her as the feather-headed courtier; now I regretted my rash actions.
“Your grace, thank you for your hospitality.” I bowed low in an attempt to smooth things over.
She sniffed disdainfully.
“Isabelle, my darling, where are your manners?” her husband chastised playfully.
I glanced between the two of them, wondering how such a pair could be married. He, a rounding man with a twinkle of humor in his eye, and she, a waif of a woman with an upturned nose and sneer, seemed an unlikely pair.
“Mikel! You old bastard! It’s good to see you!” Adair said, easing the tension in the room somewhat. “You’re maintaining those borders, I hop
e, since we chased those blood-cursed Biski back to their tents?”
“The brigands would not dare tempt my wrath again, not with the garrison I have now, thanks to you, Your Highness.” He nodded as he stroked his beard.
Adair bowed theatrically. “My pleasure, your grace.
“Now you,” the duke enthused, his open expression fell on me, and he gave Adair a sly grin. “Who is this charming young woman? Is this the woman who you refused the Jerauchians for?”
Adair smirked, and my cheeks flushed. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Earvin step a measure closer to me as if to hover protectively at my shoulder. T
he duke must have noticed because he glanced towards my guard, and his eyes narrowed the tiniest bit.
“Now, now,” Adair said. “You know this isn’t the place to make jest of matters of state.”
The duke waved his hand as if disregarding the statement.
They both turned to me as if looking for me to contribute to the topic at hand.
“I would like to think the prince’s mind is of his own choosing,” I said.
Duke Wodell’s expression turned shrewd, and I fought fidgeting beneath his scrutiny.
“I never thought I would see another of your kind. It is an honor to have you in my home, Lady Diranel.” His wife coughed as he said this, an unsubtle rebellion of the sentiment. I bowed once more to the duke, wondering about this playful yet shrewd seeming man. Where had he seen a diviner before, I wondered. Perhaps I would have the chance to learn his story before the night ended.
Unlike Duke Magdale’s estate, the men and women mingled. Well, in truth, the only women were Duchess Wodell and I. I made it my purpose to avoid her every hateful look. Adair, charming as usual, stayed by my side as we mingled with the influx of Order members. There were familiar faces among them, chiefly Duke Sixton, whom I ignored by chatting with a fur merchant from the north, and Layton. He slipped in last and did not come and greet either Adair or me. He took a seat at the back of the room and spoke to no one. I tried catching his eye, but he avoided my gaze and stared out a parlor window.
More and more men arrived as the night pressed on. It was not until the sun sank below the horizon that the duke stood and faced his guests.
“Gentlemen, I think it’s time we got to business.” He gave a pointed look to his wife, who rose and headed to the door.
I watched her go, and the duke, noticing my gaze, whispered to me, “My wife has differing opinions on the direction this country is taking.” He smiled, and I tried to act as if I knew what he meant, though it did pique my interest.
He faced the men assembled once more. “Gentleman, our prince has something he would like to say.”
Adair squeezed my hand before standing before the fire and addressing the members of the Order. I scanned the crowd. Men of all kinds attended, perhaps twenty or more. Many I knew by sight and even more by name; all of them focused on Adair with rapt attention.
“Gentlemen, times are changing.” A grumble of assent accompanied this statement. “The Princess Sarelle is dead, and we are left with a rare opportunity, an opportunity to instill everlasting peace.”
A few more people grumbled, and one man shouted, “Why would we want peace with those bloody Neaux bastards?”
“I believe enough needless blood has been shed, don’t you? We were once a great nation envied by all that surrounded us, and now we are weak, and the once-great houses are crumbling and dying.”
A few men shouted their exaltations, and the others shouted their indignation.
The class lines formed themselves with this statement, merchant-born to one side and house-born to the other. The one binding them together was Adair. I could see it in their admiration and how they hung on his every word.
“I have brought a diviner here to help us plot a new course. Maea?” He held his hand out to me, and I took it, standing to face the assembled men. They peered at me with curiosity. Their gazes made me uncomfortable, and I fidgeted with my hands and directed my eyes to the floor.
“Maea is the last of the Diranel Diviners. In their time they were advisors to the kings of old, and no decision was made without consulting the House of Diranel. I think in our new kingdom we should learn from old wisdom.” He smiled at me, and the plan became clear.
A servant parted the crowd and brought forth a basin in which for me to scry. He placed it before the assembled men. Candlelight flickered across its surface and something more, a face half-revealed itself before disappearing behind the cloak of the crowd’s reflection. I never felt the call more strongly than I did this night.
Adair grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Will you?”
I nodded as if in a trance. I felt as if everything before this night had led me to this moment. I kneeled beside the basin. Drunk with excitement and anticipation, the boring stares of the men around me faded away. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I cleared my mind of all other thoughts. I needed to see only one thing, the future of Danhad.
I opened my eyes, and my face was reflected, staring wide-eyed up at me, vibrant violet eyes piercing through the endless darkness of the basin.
The water rippled and changed: I stood in a sun-dappled field. Music drifted on the gentle spring breeze scented with new-blooming flora. Coming up the rise, a procession of people wore smiles on their faces and flowers in their hair. At the head of the group, two figures in white wore garlands on their heads. The followers tossed petals in the air, which rained down upon the couple.
The two clasped hands. A statuesque blonde woman with a certain foreign look about her features, her jaw was wider and her eyes were a deep brown, turned to her partner, and her eyes lit up with pleasure. The man, his chestnut hair pulled back at the base of his neck, walked with an upright, regal posture. He smiled, but it did not reach his dark blue eyes. It was the younger of the two youths from my dream.
The boy’s father, a voice whispered in my ear, his bride chosen for a purpose…
The scene blurred, and I stood in the void. From within the emptiness, a white mask-like face glided forward. The blond man’s head tilted back, and the translucent hand cupped his chin. I leaned forward eagerly, hoping at last this man’s identity would be revealed. The apparition turned, and I could feel those hollow eyes upon me. Though the expression never changed, I knew it was pleased.
“Greedy diviner, you know not what you seek,” it mocked in a high, cruel tone.
Darkness descended, and the boy disappeared, leaving only the specter and I.
“I am the diviner Maea, last of the House Diranel. Who are you to impede my vision?” My voice shook.
The apparition laughed, deep and hollow, in response. It, too, disappeared, leaving me in the void.
“You are brave, but when the time comes and all is revealed, you shall regret it.” Its taunting voice echoed all around me.
I stood my ground. Do not give in to the vision, I reminded myself. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
The apparition laughed again. “You know nothing of the world, young one. Let me show you.”
I returned to the field. The laughing procession changed and now consisted of familiar faces: The king and queen, Layton, and even Edalene smiled as they tossed handfuls of flower petals into the air. A woman with her sable curls free flowing, fluttering in the breeze. She wore a gossamer dress of white. She turned to beckon to a man beside her. I looked upon Sabine’s smiling face. The man caught up, grasping her hand. Adair smiled at her.
“This is the future. Their lives have been destined for one another since the beginning,” the voice mocked.
“The future is never certain!” The force of my conviction surprised me.
“Why do you fight it, diviner?” the voice crooned as I watched the procession pull away. I did not answer it. “You can never have him—accept your destiny.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I tried to scoff, but my heart constricted.
“Oh?” the voice teased, ful
l of mocking pleasure.
My surroundings swirled, wind whipped through my hair as a howl of a wounded animal carried on the wind. I turned to find the creature only to find Johai kneeling and pulling at the silvery strands of his hair.
His neck strained as he shouted, and an unearthly sound echoed from his throat. I tried to run to his aid, but my feet halted me. I looked down and found a knife in my hand. When I glanced up again, Johai stood before me, the knife plunged into his chest, a growing stain of blood on his shirt.
I dropped the knife and stumbled back. “No! This cannot be.”
More cold laughter echoed around me. “You will be his destruction, daughter of Diranel. It is for certain.”
I covered my eyes and tried to block out the scene, but I could not forget the image of Johai dying by my hand.
“Why do you fight it, diviner? It is your destiny,” the voice mocked.
The vision contorted, and waves lapped at my bare feet. I smelled the scent of salt air and felt the sting of the breeze on my skin. A woman down the shore from me stared out across the waters. The wind caught her hair and whipped it about like a banner. She stopped along the water’s edge, the hem of her skirt soaked by the sea. She glanced over her shoulder in my direction with a sad smile before she stepped purposefully into the waves. I ran after her, but it made no difference. I could not change the past. The waves consumed her, leaving only a smudge of blackness along the water’s surface before she disappeared.
I called out to her to stop. “Mother!” I sank to my knees. Why did it show me these things? I thought I could control my visions. I was wrong.
“You know this woman; you know her fate. Your own fate will not differ if you deny your destiny…” The voice grew distant.
I jumped to my feet. I twirled around, trying to catch a specter. “You don’t know! You cannot be sure! These things you show me, they are merely tricks!” I wanted to believe it, but a small part of me knew he was speaking the truth, whoever it was.
“Perhaps but even you cannot deny the past.” His words continued to echo through me as one final scene played out before me.
I could feel the bite of the winter wind. I walked beside a cloaked figure as he shivered, climbing up a dangerous mountain path. Ahead in the distance, a cave half-hidden in the flurry of snow promised shelter. Once inside, he drew a circle with coal upon the stone floor. A single candle outlined his form as he read from an old leather-bound book.
The hood he wore kept his features obscured. In horror, I watched as he slit the palm of his hand with a broad dagger. Blood droplets fell to the floor, glittering in the singular candlelight. He made a symbol in the center of the circle using his blood. He retrieved candles from a bag and set them to the four points, north, east, south and west. Shaking from cold, he knelt in the center of the circle.
The familiar voice of a young man spoke in a foreign tongue, his words echoing against the cave walls. Everything went silent, as if he had shut off sounds from the world outside. A deep darkness settled. The young man’s concentration was unbroken, and his gaze fixed steadily forward. Then from the black emptiness it emerged, the cloaked figure, a mask-like face with a greedy smiling mouth. It glided forward, and I could hear his voice in my mind as I had before.
“You summoned me?”
In a whisper, the young man responded, “Yes.”
The apparition entered the circle, his ashen hand outstretched as if beckoning. The young man lifted his head. For the first time, I saw his profile clearly. He had smooth pale skin and deep blue eyes that shimmered in the candlelight like sapphires. My breath caught as I realized too late who he was.
“I will only make a deal if you’re willing to pay the price,” the apparition stated.
“I am willing to pay,” the young man replied. “For the power, I will pay any price.”
The voice laughed high and cruel. “Unloved son, a day may come when you will regret the rashness of your youth. What do you think my power will give you, I wonder. It cannot change your past.” The voice paused, letting his words sink in. “But I will give you power.” I could hear sinister amusement in the apparition’s tone.
“I want the power. You must give it to me,” the young man demanded. His voice trembled.
The apparition laughed again. “You are not in control here, child-magiker… No matter, I will give you the power that you seek.” He moved closer and lifted the young man’s chin with a skeletal finger. “But understand: once the bond is made, we are one and you are mine…”
“I understand.”
“Let it begin!” The apparition disappeared, and the room vibrated with sound, and a sudden bright light obscured my vision.
The light faded as I heard the young man cry out just as a shaft of light shot him through the heart. He collapsed to the ground, where blood pooled around him. He should have died, I thought, though I knew he could not have. He crawled onto his knees, trembling all over. He doubled as if he would vomit, then his back arched, and he screamed in pain, the injury in his chest healed over.
“It is done,” the voice informed him, “but will you regret the price?”
In the dim candlelight, I could see his golden hair had lost all color and was now the color of fallen snow. It was then that the boy turned to face me, rising to his full height. The great roar that emitted from his throat convulsed through him, blocking out all other sound. The great roar died down, and the young man’s eyes looked right through me. The young man was Johai.