Princess Avenger - Brightcastle Saga Book 1 (23 page)

Vard reached
the outskirts of Brightcastle with the sun only halfway to its
zenith. People were in the streets, going about their daily
business. Children capered in the alleys and women in bonnets
shopped at the street stalls. A thin man with a long moustache
hammered nails to fix a notice on the front wall of a baker’s shop.
There were more of the same signs on several other buildings. He
allowed a partial transformation to the hawk, just enough to take
advantage of the bird’s superior eyesight. What he saw made him
slide back into the shadows of the alleyway.

As the
transformation left him, Vard squatted in the dirt of the alley.
So, the prince had a warrant out for his arrest. How much did
Alecia’s father know about the events of last evening? The notice
claimed that Vard was wanted for treason and murder. It didn’t
mention the princess. He clung to the belief that Alecia would have
been mentioned if she were dead. Would she keep Vard’s secret?

It didn’t
matter if Alecia had revealed Vard’s abilities to her father. The
only thing that did matter was Alecia’s safety. He’d discover her
fate and then leave Brightcastle forever. Some other champion could
save the populace from Prince Zialni. Vard climbed to his feet and
set about securing a disguise.

Vard opened the front
door of the two-storey shack that lay in the heart of Brightcastle,
ignoring the tingle that Hetty’s warding spell always provoked. The
filthy chimney-sweep costume had served him well, as had the soot
covering his face. He’d walked freely through the streets to this
residence but inside, he was unsure of his welcome.

He ghosted
through the parlor and up the hallway to the kitchen. A glance
through the doorway showed him the woman, seated on a stool by the
fire and peering into the flames.

“That’s a
clever disguise, Captain,” she said.

He
leaped at the words, assuming the crouch of a street fighter, a
knife with a chipped edge springing into his hand.
Damn the old
witch!
How did she
always manage to put him on edge?

Hetty cackled
as she turned from the hearth. “No need for knives around old
Hetty. You’ve nothing to fear…from me.”

Vard slowly
rose and replaced the knife in his belt. Hetty peered up at him as
if short-sighted, but Vard knew there was nothing wrong with her
vision. He couldn’t detect an ounce of fear from her today; unlike
the first time he had visited her. It irked him that the old witch
could confront his powers with such equanimity. “Perhaps that’s
so.”

“You’re
wounded again. Is that what brings you to my home?”

Vard frowned.
First Hetty knew him without even looking, and next she discerned
his injuries. Well, if she could tell those things, perhaps she
could tell him what he needed to know. “My wounds are my
business.”

“It wasn’t so
last time,” she said, her voice a harsh rasp. “If not for old Hetty
you’d be dead meat, changeling.”

A shiver ran
through Vard at the memory of the healing that Hetty had worked on
him only days ago. He didn’t like to be reminded of it.
“Something’s happened,” he said. “The princess may be in deep
trouble.”

“
Princess Alecia
is
in
deep trouble, but it’s no concern of yours.”

“The princess
was behind the mercenary killings.”

Hetty’s eyes
narrowed. “Rumor has it that the culprit died last night. Let that
be an end to this sorry chapter.”

Vard clutched
the stone as rage ripped through him. “I must know if she lives!
Don’t play your games with me. She was gravely injured and held in
prison. I must know if she escaped.”

Hetty’s dark
eyes trapped Vard’s and he felt a probing at his mind. He pushed
against it, determined not to give in to her. Sweat oozed from his
pores and the hairs stood on his arms. He couldn’t be sure of the
witch’s power but if he died now, he’d never know if Alecia was
safe.

“Do not fear,
Captain. I’m not in the habit of killing men…or monsters.” Hetty
turned back to the fire. “The princess’s wounds heal slowly.”

“Then she’s
alive?” Vard knelt in front of the witch, hands bunched into fists,
his eyes searching her craggy features. He almost flinched when her
gaze snapped back to his.

“You truly are
frightened for her.”

“Answer me!”
Vard said.

The old
woman’s dark eyes merely hardened. Vard had seen softer stares on
street toughs. He swallowed his anger and took deep breaths to slow
his racing heart.

“I said her
wounds heal,” Hetty said, “it’s her spirit I fear for. Word tells
that the princess has left Brightcastle but my scrying doesn’t
support this.”

Vard slumped
in relief, his face buried in his hands. “Thank the Goddess. I
feared she’d been killed after I freed her from the cell. I
couldn’t live with myself if I thought I had…”

“
This is
exactly what
I
feared,” Hetty
said. “You don’t know what you do when you are the beast. What was
it this time?”

“The bear,”
Vard said, his voice muffled through his fingers.

“You didn’t
even know if the princess survived.”

Vard had no
room in his mind for Hetty’s scorn. Alecia had escaped the bear!
His relief was short-lived as Hetty’s words sank into his
consciousness. “Left Brightcastle? What do you mean about
scrying?”

Hetty folded
her arms under her scrawny bosom and tilted her head to one side.
She reminded him of a sparrow; or perhaps a raven would be a better
match. “I have a talent,” she said. “I can ‘see’ people I know,
regardless of where they are. More clearly if I know them well.
Mostly I use fire to do it, but water can be manipulated in the
same way. With concentration, I can view those I’ve met, see
whatever circumstances they find themselves in. It’s easier if
they’re in danger or troubled.”

Vard realized
his hands were bunched into fists and he slowly relaxed them.
Hetty’s lips twitched as she watched him. “Show me Alecia…if you
please,” he said.

“What if I
don’t please?” she said.

Vard leaned
forward and reached for the woman but stopped himself before he
touched her. She watched him, eyes narrowed, a smirk about her
lips.

“You’d be wise
not to lay hand upon me. I’m no use to you dead.”

Vard rose and
strode back to the doorway. Leaning on the doorjamb, he closed his
eyes. The old woman knew how to get under his skin. He gripped the
amber stone, seeking the void of the wolf’s mind, the coldness and
clarity, stopping himself on the verge of transformation. All would
be well.

He opened his
eyes and walked back to Hetty. “That should prove that I can
control myself,” he said. “I have to see her. Then I’ll leave
Brightcastle, never to return.”

Hetty frowned.
“An almighty effort in control that was. I’m somewhat
impressed.”

“You said you
feared for her spirit. Why?”

“There is some
dire threat she dreads. I’ve scried her twice in the fire. Her
face… I haven’t seen her like that before. She fears…herself. The
ring Lord Finus gave her…she turns it round and round on her finger
so that it has worn the skin away. I think the danger has to do
with him.”

“She promised
me,” Vard whispered.

“Promised
what, Captain?”

“That she
wouldn’t hurt herself.”

Hetty snorted.
“Promises don’t sustain us in the dark moments,” she said. “I don’t
think she can bear this burden, whatever it is.”

“She doesn’t
wish to marry Finus,” Vard said. “She’d rather die.”

Hetty’s eyes
widened and her hands gripped her apron. “I’ll find some way to
help her.”

Vard took a
step forward. “Don’t be foolish, Hetty. I’ll aid the princess. Show
me her face. It might give me a clue.”

Hetty nodded
and beckoned Vard to the fire. He knelt beside her. The old woman
reached her hand out and threw a green powder into the fire,
muttering strange words.

“
Acthar scena morundi kabahl
,” she said.

The harsh
accents sent a shiver through Vard. The flames swirled, tongues of
fire twining around each other.

“
Findi behlal tedung mortunda
.”

Alecia’s face
appeared in the flames. She was somewhere dark and she stared
unseeing, her hands clasped before her. Bruises covered the right
side of her face and made a ring around her throat but it wasn’t
her injuries that caused Vard’s breath to catch. He was unprepared
for the despair that cloaked her form. As he watched, her hands
moved and she began to twirl an elaborate amethyst band on her left
ring finger.

“The ring
upsets her,” Vard said. “Why doesn’t she take it off?”

“Hush.”

Vard glanced
at the witch. She seemed entranced by the picture before her.
Perhaps she channelled feeling as well as vision through the
scrying. Whatever the truth, the old woman seemed almost as unaware
of him as Alecia was of them. His eyes returned to the princess,
searching for clues that would help him find her. She wasn’t in her
chambers. The small section of wall behind her was rough-hewn, even
more so than the room he’d occupied when housed in the palace.
Perhaps there was a cellar or dungeon?

If she were
locked up, that would explain some of her despair.

The face in
the flames disappeared and Hetty slumped on her chair. Vard reached
out and steadied her. Her arms were skeletal beneath her dress.

“Take your
hands from me,” Hetty said. “I don’t need your help.” She shook his
fingers from her and stood.

“Where was
she?” Vard asked.

“In the
palace.” Hetty rubbed her arms as if chilled. “Somewhere cold,
perhaps a dungeon. It was a close scrying. Sometimes I can discern
mood and other hints, and this was one of those times. Princess
Alecia is a prisoner in her own home. She has lost hope. I fear
she’ll do something foolish. There’s no telling the treatment she
suffers. I’ve heard rumors of how her betrothed touches her.”

“Alecia told
me as much that night in the cells. I can’t leave her to his
mercy.”

“Leave her
rescue to me, Captain. I don’t trust you anywhere near her.”

“You’ll not be
able to do what needs to be done. I’ll go to the palace, find
Alecia and bring her out.”

Hetty stepped
forward and pushed her craggy face up at Vard. “How many more times
will you place the princess at risk?”

Hetty’s words
hit Vard and his determination faltered. “You’re right. I can’t
trust myself around her.”

The witch held
out her hand. “Give me your amulet.”

Vard frowned.
“What has that to do with Alecia?”

“Just hand it
over, changeling. I think I can help.”

Alecia trusted
Hetty; perhaps it was time he did as well. Slowly he removed the
stone from the leather cord and handed it to the witch.

Hetty dropped
the talisman into the pot over her fire, which immediately began to
bubble. “Now, let’s see. Oh yes. Claw of bear, feather of hawk and
tooth of wolf, skin of human…” As Hetty listed ingredients, she
dropped each one into the pot and as she did, noxious orange fumes
swirled from the pot.

“
Ferund moribun wolfin moria
.”

A sizzling
began, building to a crescendo as the orange fog turned to red.

“
Torbulen vico contrale verdu
.”

There was a
popping sound and the crimson fumes settled, the sizzling died and
the pot went quiet. Hetty hauled the mixture from the flames and
removed Vard’s talisman with wooden tongs. She lowered it into a
bowl of water, dried it and held it out to him.

He frowned.
“It’s changed color. If you’ve destroyed it…”

“Place it
around your neck,” she snapped.

Vard threaded
the leather thong back through the stone’s setting and tied it in
place. Had he been wrong to trust her? This stone was the only
thing that enabled him any control over his transformations. Lose
that and he might as well kill himself.

Hetty regarded
him with a knowing smile. “Test it.”

Vard gripped
the stone. Calm instantly enveloped him, a calm he’d never known.
He stared at Hetty, who cackled out loud.

“Now the
transformation.”

Vard closed
his eyes and sought the hawk, the ripple of feathers sprouting
along his arms bringing memories of his first flight. He snapped
back into human form and embraced the wolf, his fingers morphing
into paws and his heightened senses already on the hunt for danger.
He locked the wolf away and turned to Hetty, his heart lighter than
it had been in weeks, years. “I’ve never had this control.”

“
The
bear, Captain. You
must
master the
bear.”

Vard
frowned but the witch raised her brows, not a trace of fear
apparent. He closed his eyes again and morphed into the bear,
revelling in the power and savagery of the beast. His limbs
lengthened, shoulders expanded and the enormous strength of the
bear flowed through him until he could contain no more. Vard held
himself on the verge of complete transformation and then shut the
brute away.
Just like that, with a thought, the beast is
gone!

“It works,” he
said, his words barely a whisper. “Thank you.”

“Watch the
amulet. When the color fades to amber, you must return to me and
I’ll renew the spell. Your search for a mentor must continue -- for
only he can bring you fully into your gift.”

Vard froze,
his heart thundering in his ears. He’d never told the witch of his
search. “How did you know?”

“I’ve my
secrets, Captain. I’ll not reveal yours.” Hetty pushed a large
calico bag into his hands. By the smell, it contained bread and
cheese. “Tell the princess I’ll always come if she calls. I’ll lend
her strength, no matter what happens. You tell her that.”