1618686836 (F) (24 page)

"Don't worry Quinn. As soon as I know I can trust you again, I'll make sure someone else is submitted to Eden for the crime. You'll be perfectly safe."

"How long is that going to be?"

Sammah leaned back with a smile, chewing around his mouthful slowly. "Your naming day."

"I won't swear to you, you know."

"And this is why we're waiting until your naming day, dear girl. You think right now that I'm going to give you a choice in the matter? If you would just be a bit more co-operative, we could go back to the way things were before."

"Before I had more control over myself, or before you started killing people and blaming me?"

Sammah stopped chewing briefly, eyeing Quinn uncertainly. Quinn held her breath, realising that whilst there was a line they both knew she could dance along, she had just tripped far past it. "Before you had control. You may have grown up quicker than I was expecting, Quinn, but that does not mean you are beyond me. I've played the game you're trying far longer, and I am better at it than most. If you want to be on the winning side, I suggest you start changing your attitude."

Emboldened by his honest answer, Quinn retorted "Perhaps blackmail might work with some, Sammah, but not all. I don't know that you won’t just turn me in or kill me, once I've served my purpose."

"No, you don't. Because you can't read me, Quinn, and you will never be able to."

"Why can't I read you?"

Sammah took another bite, contemplating this. "You've never asked me that. I know you've tried, Quinn. Since you changed. Since your abilities changed. I know how you feel, when you try to read me. That's why you're never going to try it again. You can't. I was born to resist empaths. My people thought I had no power but oh, how wrong they were. That's not I’m capable of, but it is a part of it. That's all you need to know."

The silence returned, the only sound of prominence being Sammah's chewing on the flesh of his apple. Quinn settled down again against the stonework of the window ledge and peered down over into the city.

She considered the courtyard below. It all seemed so normal. Nothing in Everfell had really changed, not for as long as Quinn had known it. Men and women went along their daily business as if there weren’t a callous murderer in their midst. Even the nobles had returned to normal, with the exception of Eden, who was working himself to the bone, and Shiver, who could never be considered normal in any aspect. The Broadwater retinue had left with little fanfare. If she was handed over as the Satori there would be no trial, she knew. There would be a spectacular public gathering for her execution. And life would continue on, just as it did below. If Sammah was outed as the actual criminal in their midst, that could all change. This orderly life that she saw beneath her would be a thing of distant memory. If Vance ordered the execution of Sammah, it was inevitable that the entire kingdom of Everfell would be plunged into a new war. Did Quinn want to be responsible for that? Would it be her fault, for helping Sammah for this long? Could she even play Sammah at his own game? No. If the baron was murdered in his sleep—even if she could get past the mercenaries that kept watch over him night and day—then there would without certainly be another war. At least if Sammah were trialled, Sha'sek would have to send a new emissary to deal with matters. Everfell would be issuing deserved justice, and Sammah’s trial would be public and fair. There could be no other way.

Life used to be so simple. Quinn was certain that she did not prefer it this way; she did not like the responsibilities that her abilities brought with them.

Their silence was disturbed by a page entering the room. The lad, pale, young and skittish, stammered the arrival of the chamberlain by hurtling away. Another lad from a different holding, petrified of the Sha'sek baron. He'd grow out of it. Hopefully. Ross came through the door, looking from Sammah to Quinn and trying to arrange his face in a congenial manner. It didn't really work.

"Baron, Quinn, I am glad to catch you both together. I am in a bit of trouble, and I wondered if I couldn't borrow Quinn from you? I know that she does not, technically, work for me anymore. However both Yvette and Grainne have taken ill and I need someone I trust to sort the rooms for Sevenspells. Can you help?"

Sammah waved his apple in the air. "Of course she'll help. I have no tasks set for Quinn tonight. Go with Ross, Quinn. Be helpful. Try to smile. You look so sour."

Sammah took another bite from the apple and grinned at Quinn, all teeth, the juice from the fruit spilling across his lips. Quinn shuddered, and followed Ross gratefully out of their quarters. Safely in the corridor and away from her adoptive father, Quinn asked Ross which rooms he needed attending to. Peculiarly for Ross, he did not answer her. Instead, they roved silently through the wide stone hallways until they came to Ross's own quarters. Quinn hovered uncertainly outside the door as Ross entered. She had never been in his private rooms, and wasn't sure why they were heading there now. Ross turned and beckoned her in.

"Come on lass, I won't bite you. Or anyone else, for that matter. Come, in."

Quinn stepped forward into a room that was surprisingly sparse. She had expected it to be like Sammah's own suites; an antechamber leading in to a main sitting area. A table, bookcases, carpets, a room for bathing, and a room for sleeping. Instead, it was all of those things in one, lacking any of the comforts that Sammah usually afforded himself. The bed, for a man of Ross's size, was small and covered in a simple blanket. There was a ragged old carpet on the floor, and a small table with a couple of wooden plates and a brass cup. There were no wall hangings, and a metal bath propped up against the far wall showed her the space he had to bathe. No wonder Ross preferred the bathing rooms at the bottom of the castle.

"Why do you live like this?" Quinn asked.

Ross waved her in the general direction of the room's only chair, and propped himself against a wall. Quinn looked around the room for any men that might be lurking, hidden. There were no other doors. With fear still her primary feeling, Quinn took up the chair, reaching out to Ross. He was slightly amused, she thought, but also anxious. Why would Ross be anxious?

"Do you know how old I am, Quinn?" Quinn shook her head. Ross was a weathered giant of a man, and he could have been anywhere between forty and sixty, but she didn't want to guess either end of the spectrum. She shrugged, opting for a safe place of reference. "Old enough to have fought in the last war."

Ross pointed at her triumphantly. "Exactly. Do you know what I did, before I was chamberlain here?"

Quinn had often wondered, but no one had ever told her. Perhaps because she had never asked. It did seem odd that a man of Ross's immense size and strength was consigned to clerical duties when the grisly old Pag, the ancient guardsman, led the soldiers remaining in Everfell. She shook her head as a response.

"I was in the war. I did fight." Ross's eyes twinkled. "But I didn't fight for Everfell." Quinn's jaw dropped. "Do you not wonder why Sammah is so ready with me, so eager to keep me onside, where with others here he is less... welcoming?"

Quinn shook her head. "I just thought it was because you are so nice?"

Ross laughed, almost a roar, from deep in his belly. Wrinkles creased his forehead and cheeks.

"Ah dear Quinn, I've lived in Everfell now for nearly twenty winters, and I think you are the first person that has ever dared call me nice to my face! I am nice I suppose, for a bear.” His eyes twinkled with mirth. "Sammah keeps me on side, little Quinn, because of everyone left in Everfell, I'm the only one that paid attention to Sha'sek society. I know what an empath is. I know what other abilities people from Sha'sek have. I know what Sammah is, too. Do you know what Sammah is, Quinn?"

Quinn stammered, cornered with Ross talking to her so frankly, and on his own terms and territory. "Sir, why would Sammah be anything? Why would I concern myself with his personal matters?"

Ross's face softened. "Because, dear child, in the last month your relationship with him has changed."

Quinn went on the defensive. "It hasn't," she lifted her chin, trying to look positive and certain. "I love him now as I always have."

"You don't need to lie to me here, Quinn. I'm trying to be your friend."

"I'm not lying to you, chamberlain."

"Oh? Then why have you stopped calling him
father
?"

Quinn started to respond, then realised the Chamberlain had her caught. He had been playing the games of the court for longer than her scant few weeks. She wouldn't be able to play him at this game, just as she couldn’t play against Sammah. Her shoulders collapsed and Quinn hung her head, defeated.

"Don't fret, little one. I won't be telling Sammah anything that we discuss."

"How do I know? How do I know that this isn’t a trap?"

"I am not like your adoptive father, Quinn. And he knows who your real father is. It is not Nerren."

Quinn went white as a sheet, which brought another chuckle out of Ross. This time it seemed tender though, and perhaps a little derisive. "If you want to start playing at politics with the eminent men of the court, Quinn, you need to start hiding your expressions better. You are young. Too young to be getting involved with this. But Sammah has played your hand, and I'm guessing you haven't exactly had a choice. How many allies have you got?"

"Why are you helping me?"

"I've always known who you are Quinn, and what you can do. Sammah did tell me. Though of course, I was never to let on. It is why I have been so accommodating in my employment of you. And, of course, I simply like you. You're not like the other girls around here. It's so refreshing. So. Allies? Maertn, of course?"

"Yes. And Eden."

"Eden?" Ross whistled through his teeth. "I’m not surprised. A strong ally indeed. Do you have his father onside? No, forget I asked, I'd know that before you did. Now, Quinn, answer truthfully. Are you two in love?"

Quinn blushed, which was enough of an answer as far as Ross has concerned. "We know how we feel about each other," Quinn added, "but we haven't exactly been able to do anything about it."

"Does he know who you are?" Quinn nodded as a response. "That's not good.” Ross pushed himself off the wall and started to stalk around the room. "Sammah's control of you stems from as few people knowing who you are as possible. His entire facade of the Satori becomes naught if he then tries to accuse you of being the murderer. We just need to look at you to know you wouldn't have been capable of murdering Broc, or any of the other men that have been turning up dead."

"Others?"

Ross frowned. "Eden hasn't told you? No Quinn, we can't have that. Maybe he's trying to protect you, but if you two aren't completely honest with each other, then you have no chance of getting out of this alive."

Ross opened his door and bellowed for a page. One came running smartly, and he asked for Eden to be summoned immediately. Ross slammed the door shut and resumed pacing.

"Why can't you just tell people who I am, and that you believe me?"

"Because then we don't have Sammah in any kind of vulnerable position. We have to call him out. Perhaps even use you as bait, Quinn. He has to be heard confessing to his crimes. Because if he's guilty, there will be a trial, and he will most likely be executed. I can't even begin to describe to you how much of a diplomatic rift that will cause between the two kingdoms."

"I keep hearing this, but I don't know what everyone means! I wasn't taught the histories, I was just put to work. Sammah has told me so little about who I am, where I'm even meant to be from. He had me believing my father was a psychotic warmonger, now you're telling me that’s a lie. I don't know why my power is changing, what I'm going to be. I don't know how many more of us there are, either. Maertn's only just found out about his ability. What's going to become of us, when Sammah is put to trial? He's our supporter. Our father. If we lose him, especially before our naming day, we'll be cast out."

"I doubt that. Maertn is the best healer in the kingdom. If it's going to come to war, Vance is going to want Maertn right here. And if you have caught Eden’s heart, don't you think he will be vouching for you?

As for your other questions, I can teach you the histories, but we don't have the time. I don't know about your powers; that sort of knowledge is only passed between the gifted. I am born of Everfell, so I am not one. The fact that you have the gift says that your parentage, from at least one side, is Sha'sek. There also has to be an empath in your lineage, though I don't know how far back. It could be that your mother was simply an Everfell woman, and your father one of the Sha'sek raiders during the wars. There were many bastard children fathered during that time, and Sammah has made sure to keep note of where all the gifted are. The useful ones, he brought here. In time, he whittled that down to just you, Maertn and Neyv. Maertn, he wouldn't be able to get rid of now even if he wanted to, and he doesn’t know what Neyv can do yet. But you, Quinn, you are the keystone to everything I think Sammah wants to achieve.

I haven't been able to say anything until today. I may have knowledge of Sammah, but he knows a thing or two about me that would bring the Sha'sek lawmakers knocking. We have lived in a tense agreement of peace. But now he is threatening my home and people close to me, I had to act. I have to help you, Quinn. I don't want to see you used and cast aside by that warmonger. I don't want to see a baron from Sha'sek sit on the throne of Everfell."