We approach Blacklands at dusk, as invited. The knights remain outside the gatehouse, clearly unsettled just being this close to the dark stone and timber walls. Only Malcolm is calm and relaxed.
The high gates suddenly swing open, though no one appears to be around. Jarrod and I dismount, leaving our horses with Malcolm and the other knights, walking into the bailey on our own. No one greets us, or shows us the way. The castle itself is complicated, with several connecting buildings, not, as most castles of the times, with one large keep. Much of it consists of timber, plaster and thatched roofs. Then I remember it was once a convent. Now it is lifeless and unnerving.
A door opens to the first building and Rhauk is standing beneath a high stone arch. Again, he is dressed all in black, tights, undershirt high up to his throat, tunic and boots. There are sprinklings of gold in a braid around the edge of his high-necked undershirt, and on his belt, which supports a buckle made completely of gold. It intrigues me. My eyes fasten on the shiny object. Closer I see it clearly, and my heart jerks, throwing me unexpectedly. The buckle is a maze of snakes, scores of them, weaving in and out of each other’s bodies, only their heads and beady eyes clearly visible.
I recall Jillian’s vision of the snakes around Jarrod’s upper body, and how Jarrod hates snakes. I watch Jarrod’s reaction. He sees them, squirms uncomfortably, probably remembering Jillian’s vision too.
We follow Rhauk down a covered cobbled walkway, up a spiral staircase, into a sparsely furnished room, except for a magnificent timber dining table at one end. There’s a fire in the centre that sheds warmth and light to the dying day. The smoke, I notice, isn’t as bad here as in Thorntyne Keep, so I follow to see where it’s going. There are air vents, long vertical slits in the roof, a mini-tower covering them, so smoke can escape, while rain can’t get in. It’s clever, considering chimneys aren’t invented yet.
Rhauk is watching me. He gives me the shivers. Even as he lays platters of food on the table, his eyes dance with mine. He’s flirting, I realise. Bold and obvious. And it’s hard to remember he’s more than double the age he looks. His skin is flawless, unmarked with age, his hair still deeply russet, his body lithe and youthful-looking. Occasionally his black eyes shift sideways to Jarrod, who’s trying hard to hang on to his patience. I warned him earlier – we come tonight seeking information, clues of any type that might help us solve the problem of the curse. Perhaps observing Rhauk in his own habitat will give us a lead. Losing control could blow everything. But Rhauk is teasing Jarrod. I just hope Jarrod can see through him, and not be blind to Rhauk’s games.
We sit down to dinner and my eyes bulge at the sight. There appears to be no one in the castle except for Rhauk, yet he’s prepared a luscious feast. Mostly fresh foods, berries and grapes, pears, apples, sweet corn, even light grain bread. There’s plenty to drink too, cider and sweet red wine, not coarse and rough, like at Thorntyne Keep. It has to be near impossible to grow all these things at this time of year. The aroma is strong and overwhelming. I’m hungry but sceptical. Who wouldn’t be?
‘Is the food not to your taste?’ Rhauk frowns.
‘It’s just that, well …’ I mutter, then opt for a direct line with this man. Anything less he wouldn’t respect. ‘It’s almost winter. There are few fresh fruits at this time of year.’
He smiles at me, laughs a little. ‘Nothing is impossible at Blacklands. I have my own gardens. Would you like to see them, Lady Katherine?’
His voice is like velvet, smooth and sensual. I glance at Jarrod, wanting to see his reaction to Rhauk’s invitation that leaves him out specifically. Thankfully, though he looks annoyed, he’s keeping control. I glance back at Rhauk. ‘We might like that later, thank you.’
Rhauk, if anything, looks smug and amused. He’s playing with us. It’s all a game to him. Well, I can play games too. I just wish the rules were clearer, and the stakes understood.
Rhauk carves up a pheasant, places a few slices of breast on Jarrod’s wooden plate. On mine and his own he serves a slice of the hot blackberry pie. His look challenges me. It says he knows I’m vegetarian, or at least that I favour fruits to meats. But how can he know this?
‘How goes my dear brother?’
Both Jarrod and I look up at Rhauk, startled. Who exactly is he asking about? Confusion throws us for a moment. We’re being paranoid, I realise.
‘Your father.’ His voice is mocking. ‘Or has your long journey dimmed your memory of the man who raised you?’
Softly, thankfully not taking the bait, Jarrod replies, ‘He is well.’
‘And your beautiful mother?’
Jarrod stares at him, but can’t hold Rhauk’s gaze.
Damn. Don’t give away clues, I silently curse. Stare him down, if you have to.
‘Fine.’
‘Hmm, fine you say.’ Rhauk looks bored, then adds, ‘Memory recalls Eloise a striking woman, yet … not quite as striking as you, Kate.’
My eyes fly to his in astonishment at the way he says my name. How does he know so much? Instinct? Or magic? They lock with his, and I’m trapped. Caught by the claws of something eerily strong, not from this world.
Jarrod feels the tension, his patience thinning. ‘Leave her alone.’
Slowly, Rhauk releases me, and his eyes move to Jarrod’s. ‘Why? I’m enjoying this conversation.’
Jarrod’s voice tightens. ‘Katherine is my wife.’
Rhauk laughs from deep within his chest. ‘You are a very poor liar.’
‘I’m not lying,’ Jarrod denies Rhauk’s accusation, but his voice hasn’t the conviction necessary to pull it off.
Rhauk’s head leans forward, his black eyes narrow slits. ‘Young lovers don’t sleep on opposite sides of the bed,’ he hisses.
‘How …?’ I hold this thought as I struggle not to look surprised or give our true marital status away. No matter his suspicions, or how clever this man is, Rhauk can only be guessing. Jarrod throws me a worried look.
A grizzly squawking sound draws our attention to the arched window slits. A black crow is perched there. I study it, wondering if it’s the same one that was perched on our window ledge this morning. Rhauk calls to the bird with a slight flick of his head, and the crow flies over, landing gently on Rhauk’s extended elbow. Rhauk croons to the bird, who soulfully responds, his arrow-shaped head inclining in an affectionate manner to one side.
I can’t drag my eyes away from the crow, understanding that I’m looking at no ordinary bird. Yet, I can’t accept that this crow somehow communicated to Rhauk our sleeping arrangement. It isn’t possible.
Rhauk feeds the bird a wedge of juicy apple, and the crow flies back to the window ledge, apparently satisfied. But it doesn’t fly away. The crow remains there throughout the entire meal, hauntingly watching.
It becomes fully night and Rhauk lights more rush lights, placing them in brackets around the large lonely room. My stomach tightens and I want to leave. Darkness at Blacklands is scary. But we really haven’t learned much yet, so I decide to speed things up. Rhauk begins serving sweet cakes. As he leans over my shoulder to offer me the platter I say, ‘We know about your plan for revenge.’
He pauses, going momentarily still. Shivers flutter across my sensitised skin. ‘Of course you do. This is why Jarrod has made his long journey here.’
I wonder how much he really knows about us. I have to find out without giving too much away. ‘So you know we’re here to stop you.’
He straightens. ‘You may attempt to, but seriously,’ he glances at Jarrod as if seeing nothing more than a pesky fly, ‘you will only waste your time, and no doubt, die in the process.’ He returns to his seat at the end of the table and looks across at me. His eyes are like rocks of coal. ‘My dear Kate, I have a vision for you.’ He rubs his hands together like an excited little boy.
Jarrod climbs to his feet. ‘You have no business with Katherine.’
Rhauk also rises and stares at Jarrod. ‘You, Jarrod, have come to protect your family. I
respect that, though, in the end, respect means nothing to me. And, though you do not know this, you have brought the Lady Katherine with you because this is where she belongs.’
‘What!’ Jarrod hisses.
‘An injustice was done to me many years ago by your father. He stole my Lady, persuading her against me with cowardly lies and outrageous rumours. Bringing me your wife is recompense. What was once stolen will now be returned.’ Here he glances pointedly at me, and a chilling smile spreads slowly across his face. ‘What a delightful addition you will make to Blacklands, Lady Katherine. Just like Eloise would have.’
‘You have it wrong,’ I try to tell him, dread settling tightly in my chest. ‘I’m not a replacement for Eloise.’
‘Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong,’ he denies. ‘All is going as it should. I knew this day would come.’
‘Katherine is not staying here!’
Jarrod is losing it, fast. I tug on his arm and whisper, ‘Don’t fall for it, he’s only goading you. He wants to test your powers.’
Rhauk laughs and says smugly, ‘Clever, Kate. But you’re only half right.’
I yank Jarrod backwards, away from the raw energy emanating from Rhauk. ‘We’d better leave.’
Jarrod calms a little at this idea and nods.
But Rhauk hasn’t finished playing with us. ‘Don’t be in such a hurry. Why, I haven’t told you my plans yet. Isn’t this why you came?’
Just as he knew it would, his words stop our retreat. I breathe in deeply, my nerves rattling on a dangerous edge.
Once he’s sure of our attention Rhauk explains. ‘Jarrod’s fears for his family are certainly not unfounded. Right now, in the solar tower, I am preparing a frightful curse. Every seventh-born Thorntyne son will know its wrath from now to eternity. Fools they will be, born clumsy, while evil and misfortune will befall every member of their family.’
‘So,’ I try to gain a little more specific information. ‘This curse you speak of is not complete yet?’
He pauses, his eyes staring straight through me, like he’s deciding on his answer. Then he says, ‘Alas, it lacks but one ingredient. The sweet root of a winter-flowering herb.’
Since it’s late autumn we have only a little time to act. We’ll have to use it wisely, somehow find a way into the tower, destroy the brewing curse, then deal with Rhauk so that he won’t brew another curse. Just how hard this will be, is anyone’s guess. At least now we have a starting point.
It’s time to leave.
Jarrod is just as keen. He takes my hand in his and brings it to his mouth. Against the back of my palm he mumbles, ‘Let’s get out of here, fast.’
We make to move towards the spiralling staircase, but the look on Rhauk’s face stops us. His pupils have done a full dilation. I wonder what’s caused this stunned reaction. His unblinking eyes drift down to where Jarrod is still holding my hand.
‘We’re leaving, Rhauk,’ Jarrod says into the chilling silence.
Rhauk blinks and seems to regather his senses. ‘Oh, but you can’t leave without a parting gift.’
As he speaks a heavy wooden door slams shut the entrance to the stairwell, blocking our retreat. The thundering sound echoes through the empty corridors. Startled, we glance back at Rhauk, in time to see him throw a shimmering silver ball high into the air. The ball explodes, the entire area surrounding us fills with silver and light as thousands of tiny shards of sharply-pointed, needle-like projectiles fall around us in an eerie shower. I try to protect my face with my arm, but the needles are plentiful and sharp.
They sting, piercing the skin, right through our garments. ‘Jarrod, do something!’
He screams back, ‘What, Kate! How do I fight this?’
I shield my eyes while trying to look up at him, pleading with him to realise his gift and use its powers. ‘You can stop this, Jarrod! Reach inside!’
He stares at me, open-mouthed, his head shaking. ‘I don’t know how …’
He can’t help. It’s what Rhauk wants, to see for himself, to measure Jarrod’s weakness.
I glance up quickly to see if there’s any end in sight to the silver rain. I try to tell myself it’s just magic, it’s just an illusion, but blood is now staining my long-sleeved tunic and my scalp is stinging from the needles lodged there. There is so much silver light the entire room is glowing with this strange unnatural energy. And in this moment of understanding I realise that Rhauk will stop at nothing to have his revenge. A revenge on his half-brother for stealing the girl he loved, and his deceased father for not acknowledging his rightful heritage. He will even resort to murder, if Jarrod or I stand in his way.
I hate him for this. And I can’t just stand here and do nothing, letting Rhauk get it all his own way. Jarrod may not be in a position to use his gift, but nothing is stopping me. So, not thinking of the risks I take exposing my knowledge of magic to this dangerous man, I straighten in the face of the shower of silver needles and lay my arms gently by my side. I concentrate deeply, slowing my breathing and trying to ignore the stinging pain. In my mind I see the silver projectiles change into harmless shapes, their pointed ends softening, curving, moulding, floating.
Before I’m even aware that my trick has worked, I hear Jarrod’s sharp intake of breath. Opening my eyes, I blink to clear my vision, put my hands out and watch, unable to stop a smile forming as, instead of the shower of silver needles, hundreds of white dove feathers drift around me, collecting in my open palms.
When I look up, I realise sickeningly, that I’ve just made a fatal error. I’ve shown Rhauk something of my own powers. And now he will want me more than ever. The joy is written in his face. He starts clapping, ecstatically, both eyebrows rising half into his forehead.
When he stops clapping he walks over and stands directly in my space, grinning, his eyes sparkling. ‘We will make a formidable couple, you and I, Lady Katherine.’
I shake my head wordlessly and step backwards, avoiding eye contact.
He simply laughs. ‘Yes. Imagine it – your power and mine! The world will be ours. Who would dare! No one could better us!’
From my side Jarrod flinches. ‘She’s not staying with you!’
Rhauk stares at Jarrod. ‘In the end she will choose. To be fair, Jarrod, Kate must have an understanding of what could be hers, of what I can give her. She must glimpse both worlds.’ He shifts his focus back to me quickly, catching my eyes before I have a chance to look away. His voice is velvet again, hypnotic. ‘Will you stay, Lady Katherine? Kate? Here, with me, at Blacklands?’
Jarrod stares at me, a kind of shocked look on his face. He’s wondering why I haven’t answered yet. Why I haven’t given an abrupt ‘No’ to Rhauk’s outrageous proposal. He doesn’t understand that when Rhauk’s hypnotic eyes bore into mine, when Rhauk’s overwhelming energy swamps my senses, I can’t easily break this hold. And right now the pressure is intense. I blink several times quickly, it helps to draw me away from him. Finally the spell of his hold releases me.
I glance up at Jarrod, mentally drained, and say softly, ‘Take me home.’
He grabs my elbow, supporting me. ‘You heard her decision, Rhauk. Let us out.’
As the heavy wooden door creaks open, the black crow squawks and flies straight between us so that we have to duck to the side, coming to rest on Rhauk’s extended elbow. It’s eerie how it seems to look at us with scorn. I don’t have time to think about this, I just want to get out. The darkened staircase is so close now, allowing us a route of escape. Just before we reach it, Rhauk’s voice washes through us, chillingly, ‘You leave me no choice, my Lady …’
I make my feet keep moving, though nothing can stop his words, as they chase us down the staircase. ‘I will have to come for you.’ My entire body starts shaking, his words an ominous warning. ‘Watch the darkness, for I will be the shadow, coming for you.’ And then, in a hushed sort of whisper, ‘Sleep tight, my Lady.’
Sure. Just the thought of staying in Blacklands overnight with Rhauk t
errifies me. At last in the bailey, I can’t hear his words any more, but the image of his eyes, small, black and cold, remains vividly clear. I wonder if I will ever sleep again.
Jarrod
Dinner at Blacklands with Rhauk really unnerved Kate. We’re on our way back to Thorntyne Keep and she’s quiet and sullen, her eyes huge ovals. She’s trembling all over, hands clasped tightly together in an attempt to stop the shaking. It doesn’t.
Lord Richard greets us in the bailey and walks us to the tower room as the rest of the castle sleeps. After telling him a little of our evening with Rhauk, content that we survived intact, he bids us goodnight. The servants have prepared the room, giving us a warm glowing fire.
Kate looks numb. With mechanical movements she sits on the bed, lifts her nightgown to her face, unconsciously inhaling the smell of it. Her eyes lift to mine. ‘You know you’re going to have to fight him.’
I stare at her. She means Rhauk and she has to be joking. ‘Are you crazy?’
She sighs a kind of weary disappointment. ‘Well, I can’t see any other way.’
‘Really? So how exactly am I supposed to do this?’ She knows just how incapable I am of fighting anyone, let alone Rhauk with his tricky magic. I cringe remembering tonight’s display with the needles. ‘Had I known your plan I would have brought along a semiautomatic machine gun.’
‘This is not a joke, Jarrod.’
Her comment stings. ‘I know.’ But I’m annoyed with myself more than with Kate. After all, she’s here for my sake. And I realise that I disappoint her. ‘I just don’t know what you expect of me.’
She groans, tugging the nightshirt up to her face again, this time completely burying her nose in it and taking a deep exhilarating breath. She does this sort of thing all the time, with the heavy drapes, or a tapestry on a wall, even the candle holders. This morning I saw her inhaling the scent of a washing bowl! She loves this era and she loves being here. I think it’s more than just the opportunity to live history. Maybe it’s because she has no history herself. Not knowing her mother, not even knowing who her father is.