Today. Seteal’s eyes burst open. She leapt out of bed, stumbled across the room, slammed face-first into her wardrobe, hit the floor, and threw up. Lifting her chin, she paused for a moment to examine the strange carvings on the wooden door. Her father had constructed the wardrobe many years earlier, but she’d always found the images confusing. There was an ocean, frozen in time with people standing fearlessly beneath huge waves as if they too knew that the waters were incapable of crashing down.
‘For Maker’s sake,’ Seteal muttered before hurrying out of the room to find a cloth. After collecting one from the next room, she cleaned up the mess and got dressed.
‘Is that you thumping about up there, Seteal?’ Gifn called from downstairs.
‘No!’ Seteal shouted back to her father. Who did he expect it was? No one else lived there.
‘I’ve made breakfast,’ he announced.
‘I’m not hungry,’ Seteal replied. The last thing she wanted to do was have breakfast with that man. Not after last night.
After straightening out her bright yellow dress, Seteal made her way to the bedroom window and gazed out over the town. The house in front of theirs was all on one level, which allowed her to see the town centre beyond. It was early . . . too early for Seteal to be up, really, but she’d been unable to sleep lately on account of some rather disturbing dreams.
Seteal was able to see the future. Well . . . sometimes. Maybe. She was confused. Perhaps she was simply losing her mind. Throughout life she’d suddenly just know something was about to happen--sometimes only moments in advance, sometimes days. She didn’t always know what the event was, just that it would happen. Even to Seteal that sounded crazy. But it wasn’t.
She’d only ever known such things occasionally and it’d never impacted on her life too negatively. But lately things had been different. And today was the day. That was why she had been sick. She didn’t know what it was, but she’d known it was coming for well over a year. Every now and then, she’d freeze with the abrupt and somewhat forceful realisation that it’d gotten closer. Or maybe she was just a bored, small town girl making up childish fantasies to take her mind off what her father was up to.
With a tired sigh, Seteal headed downstairs to join Gifn in the kitchen. ‘Morning,’ she grumbled.
‘Morning,’ Gifn replied with an equal lack of enthusiasm. ‘You didn’t have to be so rude last night, you know?’
‘Really?’ Seteal rolled her eyes. ‘You want to start this early in the morning?’
‘What’s wrong with the boy?’ Gifn said indignantly. ‘He comes from a wealthy family and he’s actually quite a nice young man. You could do a lot worse.’
‘All right.’ Seteal exhaled softly. ‘We’re actually doing this. Fine. I--don’t--want--to--get--married. Do you understand me?’
‘Come now, Seteal. You finished school three years ago,’ Gifn insisted. ‘You can’t help out in the shop forever . . . and I won’t be here forever. You need someone who can take care of you.’
‘I can take care of myself,’ Seteal snapped. ‘I’ll run the business alone if I have to.
‘You’re a woman.’ Gifn chuckled before his face crumbled at the realisation that he should’ve kept such a comment to himself. ‘I mean to say: carpentry is heavy work.’
‘It’s work that you know I’m far more capable of handling than any of the men you’ve hired in the past.’ Seteal put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes accusingly.
‘I just don’t see why you’re so hostile to the idea of at least meeting some of these young men,’ Gifn intercepted, guiding the conversation back on course. ‘Most girls would be giddy with excitement at your age.’
Seteal stared at her father stonily. He couldn’t possibly be so dim. Surely he was trying to fool himself by denying what he must already know on some level, at least. She felt like shouting it at him, but couldn’t be so cruel. It would crush him. It wasn’t fair, but that was the world they lived in.
‘I’ve just met so many lately,’ Seteal stated, taking pity on her father’s desperation. ‘I’m tired of not finding the right person.’
‘Well.’ Gifn clapped his hands enthusiastically, relief and elation dancing across his features. ‘I’ve got just the man for you! He’s not the wealthiest in town, but he’s intelligent and handsome. I’ve arranged a meeting for tonight.’
‘No--enough!’ Seteal’s long-suppressed anger boiled to the surface. ‘For Maker’s sake, I’m trying to make this easy on you, but you keep throwing it back in my face. I don’t want to meet a man, any man, ever. Get it? I’m not interested in men.’
‘What’re you saying?’ Gifn’s face fell, making it obvious that he didn’t truly want the answer to his question.
‘I . . .’ Seteal slumped, once again softened by her father’s distress. He was old fashioned and alone. She was all he had. ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about tonight, that’s all.’
‘What kind of feeling?’ Gifn asked warily, clamping his hands over Seteal’s shoulders.
‘I don’t know.’ Seteal looked up at him awkwardly. ‘A feeling.’
‘What kind of feeling?’ Gifn repeated more firmly. ‘What does the feeling feel like?’
‘What does the feeling feel like?’ Seteal’s face creased in consternation. ‘What kind of a question is that? It feels like a feeling. The feeling feels like a feeling!’
‘Are you sure that it doesn’t feel like it’s not your feeling, but you’re feeling it anyway?’
‘What the torrid?’ Seteal got up from the table and stepped away to stare at anything other than Gifn’s eyes, all the while doing her best to remain calm. Her father had described exactly what it felt like when she felt the future. It was as though she knew something, but the knowledge was not her own. Rather, the thoughts seemed to have been inserted into her head from somewhere else. ‘I’m just not feeling very sociable.’ Seteal forced a laugh.
Why was he behaving this way? Had he figured it out? But how could he have possibly done so?
‘Well, all right, then.’ Gifn squeezed her shoulder and headed toward the sink, where he resumed drying the dishes. ‘You’d tell me if anything was the matter, wouldn’t you?’
‘At the moment . . .’ Seteal half-smiled. ‘I can guarantee that you’re the only thing bothering me.’
‘There it is.’ Gifn’s face split into a broad smile in recognition of Seteal’s. ‘I haven’t seen one of those in a while.’
‘Didn’t you say you had some breakfast for me?’ Seteal asked. She often found herself feeling awkward when her father behaved affectionately. She didn’t know how to respond. It was just a smile. Why did parents get so excited over such expressions? Everyone smiled. It was nothing special.
‘Oh dear,’ Gifn teased, ‘did I embarrass you?’
‘Just give me my breakfast.’ Seteal grinned wryly. Having spotted it on the counter, she pushed past her father, snatched up the plate, and took it to the table. ‘Thanks,’ she said through a mouthful of bread, sending crumbs spraying everywhere.
‘You’re going to clean that up.’ Gifn nodded at the breadcrumb explosion.
‘Yesh,’ Seteal tried to say, but only succeeded in sending more crumbs spraying across the table.
‘You just focus on eating.’ Gifn gestured patiently. ‘We chew, swallow, and then talk. Maker, it’s moments like these that I really miss your mother. She would’ve taught you some manners.’
Silence filled the room and Seteal lost her appetite. She put down the bread and dusted off her hands. Gifn occasionally reminisced over Jillian, but aside from a few dusty memories, Seteal had nothing to add to the conversation. And for that she was bitterly resentful.
‘I’m sorry, darling,’ Gifn began to apologise, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. ‘I wonder who that could be?’ He marched over and pulled it open. ‘You,’ he gasped.
‘Mister Eltari,’ a deep, commanding voice intoned.
Gifn slammed the door and put his weight against it. ‘Get
out of here,’ he hissed at Seteal.
‘What’s going on?’ She moved around the table, curiosity driving her forward.
‘Listen very carefully.’ Gifn’s tone was one of disbelief and his eyes showed greater fear than Seteal had ever seen in them. ‘Go through the back. Don’t let anyone see you and run as fast as you can. I’ll try to keep them occupied.’
‘Come now, Gifn,’ the strong, elderly voice called through the door. ‘Must it really be this way?’
‘What do you want?’
‘I simply wish to speak to Miss Eltari,’ the voice replied.
‘No,’ Gifn responded without hesitation. ‘You can’t have her. You should leave.’
‘Father,’ Seteal gasped. ‘You’re being rude.’
‘Must you be so difficult?’ the voice enquired regretfully. ‘You well know that I needn’t be so courteous in getting my way. And you are beginning to test my patience.’
‘No . . . no,’ Gifn’s breaths became ragged. ‘Seteal . . . please, if you’re going to listen to me just once in your life, you need to get out of here now!’
‘I’m going.’ Seteal snapped out of her shock and swept toward the back door. She’d never seen her father in such a state, but knew that anyone capable of inducing such fear in a man so strong could only be incredibly dangerous. ‘Be careful,’ she called.
Seteal yanked open the back door as the one in the front swung open behind her. ‘Father!’ She spun and froze at the sight before her.
Gifn stood calmly beside the door with a disturbingly large smile plastered across his face. ‘Come back, darling,’ he said woodenly. ‘It’s safe now.’
‘Father?’ Seteal murmured, tentatively releasing the handle to take a step in his direction.
An elderly man stepped inside followed closely by a woman of similar age to Seteal. The strangers were the definition of contrast. The old man was dressed in a white robe with a dark blue collar and cuffs. The young woman was dressed in a flowing, deep red dress that seemed perfectly cut for her slender and beautifully proportioned body. The man was tall, with a long flowing beard and white hair, his skin leathery and ancient. The woman had hair as black as pitch, which framed a pale face without a single blemish. In fact, there was really only one thing that the pair had in common and that was their eyes.
The old man searched the room with deep blue eyes centred by white pupils until they came to rest on Seteal.
‘Your eyes,’ she choked out.
‘Come here,’ Gifn intoned, lifting a heavy hand. ‘Come meet the kind people.’
‘That’s enough, El-i-miir,’ the old man said sternly. ‘Put him in the corner.’
‘Certainly, Gil’rei,’ El-i-miir replied, her hand twitching dismissively. Gifn wandered to the corner of the room and stopped, his head resting against the wall.
‘What’ve you done to him?’ Seteal cried. She snatched up a bread knife and hurried across the room.
‘Stop.’ El-i-miir’s eyes flashed, white pupils burrowing into Seteal’s soul. Although she couldn’t explain why, Seteal froze in place, her fingers unfurling to drop the knife.
The old man chuckled. ‘What were you going to do, butter me?’
‘I . . . I . . .’ Seteal’s jaw worked but she couldn’t figure out which words to say.
‘All right.’ The imposter nodded. ‘I’ve seen enough. El-i-miir, my dear . . . if you’d be so kind. My will isn’t quite what it used to be.’
‘Of course.’ Concentration caused the woman’s soft features to crease. She looked into Seteal’s eyes and whispered, ‘Sleep.’ And that was exactly what Seteal did.