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Authors: Tania Johansson

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Chapter Eight

Not Quite According to Plan 

 

 

Shortly after Khaya arrived home, Brier knocked on the door. The smile slipped from his face when he saw her sombre expression. “What’s happened?” he asked as he stepped inside.

“I’m leaving,” she said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

“What? Where are you going?”

She shook her head, chin trembling. He folded his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “Come, let’s put a kettle to the boil.” He took her hand and led her to the kitchen, sitting her down at the table.

“Now, tell me what's going on,” he said as he put a teapot and cups on the table in front of her and took a seat opposite.

“They are getting suspicious at the Company. It is only a matter of time before they openly accuse me of murder.”

“So, you're running away?”

“You make it sound so cowardly,” she said with a scowl. “What am I meant to do? If the Company decides I'm guilty, I would stand no chance against them.”

“How do you know that? You make them out to be all-powerful, almost evil. What makes you think they're capable of framing you for murder? Or of murder, for that matter?”

“They have told me that they have killed people with second abilities!” she spat, frustrated that he seemed to be defending them.

He held up his hands. “That was a long time ago. And only after those people started killing others. All I am saying is, maybe you are pulling this all out of proportion.”

“This isn’t something that will blow over!”

 

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

 

Derrin stood in the hallway listening to them argue. He wished he could jump in and knock Brier on the chin. He seemed more concerned with convincing Khaya to stay than with her safety.

Was it a matter of simple selfishness, or did he have an ulterior motive? “I am going, Brier,” she said and Derrin grinned. She was proving to be a woman who knew her own mind.

“Then I'll come with you,” Brier said.

“No. It's bad enough that you are involved in this at all. I won’t allow you to risk your life by coming with me.”

“That is my risk to take.”

“No, it isn’t. If something happened to you, I would for ever blame myself. I won’t stand for it.”

“What does this mean for us, then?” he asked after a pause, resignation in his voice. “When will I see you again?”

A short silence. “I don’t know,” she whispered so softly Derrin could hardly hear her words. “Merrit doesn’t know where we are going, either.”

“Merrit? I thought you would be going on your own.”

“No. Merrit is as involved as I am. He convinced me that it was time to leave.”

A chair scraped back, and feet paced up and down. “I don’t like this,” Brier finally said.

“I would have thought you'd be happy that I won’t be alone.”

“Yes, I am so very pleased you will be running away with another man.”

“Brier, don’t twist it like that. There is nothing between us. And I feel safer knowing that he will be there with me.”

“Is there anything I can say to dissuade you?”

“No.” Her voice was solid, unwavering.

“I guess then there is no reason for me being here,” Brier’s voice was low.

“Brier,” Khaya pleaded.

Brier stormed out past Derrin and, expecting Khaya to follow, he Leapt outside, crouching behind a shrub to the side of the front door. Khaya soon appeared. “Brier! Come back,” her voice caught and tears glistened down her cheeks. She stood in the door long after Brier disappeared from view.                        

 

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

 

Walking to work the next morning, Khaya was still saddened by Brier’s reaction. She couldn’t believe he would leave things like that. Maybe he thought it would change her mind, convince her that she couldn’t leave on such a bitter note.

He could think again.

She walked through the main library doors and up the stairs. Reaching the landing at the top, she peered through the glass panels in the door leading off to her left, to the actual library. Several people were visible browsing among the shelves. She used to be a regular before the Company even found her.

How she would love to go back to that time. To a life of simplicity and normality.

She sighed and pushed through the door to her right. Res saw her entering and froze, his tail whipping to and fro. She glared at him and felt like saying ‘Boo!’. She settled for shaking her head at him.

She looked around for Merrit. He was usually late for work and she guessed that today was no exception. When Phalio did not intercept her as she entered, she made her way over to her desk.

She grimaced when Peater approached her, a sheaf of papers in his hands. “Phalio is dealing with another matter today,” he said, placing the documents on her desk. “I’m afraid it’s back to normal work for you for now.”

Khaya couldn’t stop from grinning. She’d been dreading another dreary day in the basement with a stone-faced Phalio. She skimmed through the first document – a report of a fire in the market area of Teaton, a town to the west of Arroe.

A number of times while reading she thought someone called her name. She turned, each time finding no one behind her. Perhaps she was more on edge than she thought.

Several hours later, she realised Merrit still wasn’t at his desk. Her stomach gave a roll. Maybe he left without her. She cursed under her breath. She should have left with him the night before. Clearly, Brier wasn’t much bothered about her comings and goings.
Maybe he’s busy with something else
. She turned her papers face down on the desk and got up to look for him.

Only a couple of women were in the staff room when she peeked in. She had never had any dealings with either of them. She didn’t even know what their abilities were, but they’d both been with the Company longer than her. As she stepped closer to them they both retreated a step. “Argh,” Khaya grunted. “Have you seen Merrit today?” She tried and failed to contain her irritation.

The women shook their heads, faces pinched. Khaya thought that if she asked for their coins and jewellery, they would hand them over in an instant. Muttering under her breath, she walked another round of the room before settling back at her desk.

 

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

 

The moment she finished work, Khaya rushed over to Merrit’s house. She knocked several times, but received no answer. Giving up, she hurried to her own house. Her heart was racing. She kept thinking someone was following – she could hear their footsteps. Looking over her shoulder for the fourth time she shook her head, trying to dispel the feeling of being watched.

She sighed in relief as she shut her front door behind her. She threw an apple and some provisions into a bag. Part of her wished Brier would show up and persuade her to stay. The bigger part, though, knew she had to leave and seeing him would not change that, only make it harder.

Midnight was still a long way off, which meant she had a good few hours to kill. With no appetite for it, she picked a few beans from her little garden, as well as carrots, and a squash.

In a short space of time, she had a plateful of food in front of her that she forced herself to eat. Collecting her bag of clothes from upstairs, she decided that she would rather be on the move. She added the food provisions to her duffel bag and left, ignoring the pinch of regret as she walked away from her life.

She made herself keep a slow pace as she headed to the bell tower. It rang out as she arrived. She was an hour early. Sitting down, she leaned her back against the stone wall and closed her eyes. A million things ran through her mind.

Footsteps approached from around the corner. She smiled. He was early. She stood and waited for him to reach her. The footsteps stopped. She frowned, and walked to the corner, peering round. No one. A chill ran down her spine. “Merrit?”

No answer.

I must be more tired than I realised
. She sat back down, leaning her head back, but keeping her eyes open. With only a crescent moon, there was not much light to see by. A few lanterns lit a small area in the square opposite her, but these were dim and only served to stop her eyes from adjusting to the murky night.

From just beyond the lit area, voices rose and fell. Was that Merrit? Who was he with? She squinted through the dark, but it was no good. She couldn’t see. The voices were approaching.

“Merrit?” she called.

The voices cut off. The ensuing silence seemed to roar in her ears. What was going on? Was she finally losing her mind? She jumped when the clock chimed midnight behind her. She gave a nervous giggle and smoothed down her skirt.

Merrit would be there any minute now. Her stomach gave a flutter at the thought. Not because she would be seeing Merrit, but the moment of leaving everything behind her was almost upon her.

 

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

 

Derrin sat some distance away from Khaya, the night’s shadows cloaking him. He wasn’t sure what was frightening her, but he was sure there was no immediate danger. She
was
putting herself at risk by being out in the open in the middle of the night and on her own, no less. This woman had more courage than was good for her.

He didn’t know in what form the Order’s attack on her would come. He still doubted that they would do her physical harm, but he wouldn’t put abduction past them. He looked up at the clock for the umpteenth time. It was past midnight. Merrit had better not make him sit out here the whole night. He resisted the urge to pace.

When he could stand the wait no longer, he Leapt to Merrit’s house. If he’d lost his courage, Derrin would convince him that his house was no longer a safe place to be.

There was no sign of light through any of the windows and the door was ajar. He walked in. It was quiet.

Too quiet.

 

Chapter Nine

Stranger Things

 

 

Khaya was getting a bad feeling. She knew Merrit always arrived late for work, but she was sure that was because he didn’t like work. Surely, he wouldn’t let her wait this long out here. Something must have gone wrong.

The night air carried a chill and she pulled her coat on. She buttoned it up and pushed her hands into her pockets. She frowned, pulling a note from her pocket. She squinted to see the scrawled words. ‘Change of plans, meet me at the Orange Tree inn. M’

She dropped the note as though it had burnt her. How could he possibly have put the note in her coat pocket? She spun round, knowing there was no way he could have sneaked past her. That wouldn’t make sense anyway, she chided herself. He probably went to her house while she was still at work and slipped the note in. Her coat was after all, by her packed bag.

She grimaced. She didn’t particularly like the idea of Merrit in her house without her knowledge. It felt intrusive.

Despite its affable name, the Orange Tree had the worst reputation of all the inns in all of Arroe. Khaya only hesitated a moment, though. Soon after setting off, her feet hurried her to a near jog. She felt paranoid, looking over her shoulder every few steps. The more she tried to convince herself she was being a silly, scared, little girl, the more her stomach tightened with fear.

She ran the last three streets and burst through the door of the inn, breath racing. The startled man behind the reception desk had clearly been sleeping. His hair was mussed and his eyes unfocused. “Has a man come here looking for me? He is about this tall,” she said, holding her hand about a foot higher than her head, “he has light brown, messy hair and a kind of hooked nose.”

The man blinked several times before speaking. She had to keep a tight rein on her temper. “No ma’am. We haven’t had anyone in here tonight.”

She gritted her teeth at being called ma’am. “Are you sure? He was going to be here at about midnight.”

He shook his head, his loose jowls swinging. “As I’ve said we haven’t had anyone come in tonight.”

Taking a deep breath, she looked to her left. Through the open door, she saw a sitting room. From where she stood, she could see the feet of a man sitting on one of the settees. She looked back at the innkeeper. “No one, you say?” She snorted and, not waiting for his reply, walked to the waiting room.

She stopped short as she entered the room. It wasn’t Merrit. She was about to walk out when he spoke in a deep voice. “Khaya. You should sit.”

She was rooted to the spot. Their eyes locked and she seemed unable to avert her gaze. He certainly wasn’t Merrit. He had smouldering dark eyes, a strong, square jaw and his black hair hung in short curls. “Who are you?” she asked eventually, glancing around the room. “Where is Merrit?”

“A friend.”

“Ha! Anyone could say that. How do I know you weren’t sent by the Company?”

“If I wished you harm, I wouldn’t have brought you here. I could have cornered you at the bell tower.”

She gaped. So, it must have been him that she heard, his eyes she’d felt on her. She started backing away from him.

“Khaya, please,” he said, holding his hands up. “Hear me out. You are in danger.”

“Who are you?” she repeated.

“Close the door – you don’t want the innkeeper overhearing us.”

She glanced over her shoulder to see the man leaning over the counter, trying to catch what they were saying.

“Please,” he continued, “sit and I will explain everything.”

She stood weighing her options before pushing the door closed and taking a seat that was both furthest away from this stranger and closest to the door. She sat on the edge of her chair, ready to bolt out at the first sign of danger. She folded her hands over her knees, her back straight and stiff. She waited for him to speak.

“I know Merrit,” he said. “I know you were going to leave with him tonight.”

She nodded slowly. “Where is he?”

“I am sorry to be the one to tell you this,” he said, and her stomach tightened. “Merrit has been murdered.”

She shook her head, her mouth gaping. “When?” She choked on this single word.

“Some time today. I found him a short while ago.”

“How did you know we were going to leave tonight?” Her mind reeled. If she’d only left with Merrit the previous night, he would still be alive. He was scared. He knew something was going to happen! And she made him stay. She clamped her teeth, fighting the knot in her throat.

“As I said, I knew Merrit.”

“You’re not an employee of the Company,” she said. “I know all the faces from the library.”

“No. They’ve never tried to employ me.”

For someone who was going to explain everything, he was keeping his cards pretty close to his chest. She swallowed her annoyance, forcing her face to stay blank. “The note in my pocket,” she murmured. “It must have been you. How – when – did you slip the note into my pocket?”

“When you were waiting at the bell tower.” He grinned at the incredulous look on her face. “I said the Company has never tried to employ me. I didn’t say I don’t have any tricks up my sleeve.”

“Why did you make me come all the way here? Why not speak to me there and then?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “What do you think your reaction would have been if I walked up to you out there and said: ‘Hello, Merrit has been murdered.’?”

She sniffed. She would probably have run away from him, but there was no way she was going to admit to that! “I think you would have found me most composed.”

He grinned and a dimple appeared in his right cheek. Khaya wiped away the smile that had snuck onto her face. She wouldn’t let this man’s charm and good looks distract her. She still didn’t know who he was or if she could trust him. “Well, I guess I have to be on my way then,” she said.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t think I want to say. After all, I don’t know you. I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Derrin. And if you are thinking of going home, I would strongly advise against that.”

“And why is that?”

“When they find out that Merrit is dead, who do you think they will want to speak to first?”

She shrugged. “His friends, his family. I don’t have anything to hide anyway.”

“Merrit didn’t have any family in the area and his circle of friends was limited. Besides, we both know it was most likely the Company who murdered him or arranged the whole thing at the least. We also know why. They will want to find someone to take the blame. In fact, I am sure they committed this deed knowing full well who they would be framing.”

“You are suggesting that person is me.”

“Of course.”

He said it so matter-of-factly. As if he was telling her about the weather.

He leaned forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his knees. “They need you out of the way, Khaya. They believe you will go crazy – start killing people. They can’t let that happen. They are a secretive organisation and they plan on staying that way. Rather than cleaning up after you, they want to prevent the mess. That’s why Leena and Merrit are dead.” He paused. “And if you let them, you will be next.”

“Why would they not come after me first?”

“That I don’t know. Perhaps they were hoping to learn something from you first. Or maybe the plan was to blame you for both murders.”

She mulled this over. It was possible. And entirely irrelevant at that moment. She scraped her courage together. “I guess that means I’ll be travelling alone then. Thank you for your help, Derrin.” She stood as she said the last.

“I would advise against that as well.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Why?”

“They will be watching the roads now. They must at least suspect that you will try to flee.”

She shuddered, feeling trapped.

“I suggest we book in here for the night and decide in the morning what we will do next.”

“We?”

“Yes. Not to sound rude, but it seems to me that you could do with a helping hand. Besides, it would arouse fewer suspicions if we get a room together. Seedy inn as this is.”

“I'm not sharing a bed with you,” she gasped.

He put his hands up. “I would never suggest such a thing. I'm a gentleman.” He put his hand over his heart, a lopsided grin showing off his dimple.

She hesitated. “How do I know I can trust you? Who’s to say you don’t kill me in the middle of the night? Or that you aren’t the one who killed Merrit? For all I know, you could have been sent by the Company. You do seem to know an awful lot.”

“Believe me, I wouldn't need all this cloak and dagger if I wanted to kill you. You were vulnerable enough standing out there by the bell tower. Silly idea that was,” he added, almost too low for Khaya to catch.

She nodded once and swept from the room. The innkeeper scampered to stand behind his desk. Had he been listening in? “We’ll have a room, please. One room,” she said, keeping her back straight and chin up. She didn’t want anyone – not even the innkeeper of a seedy inn – to think she was a floozy.

The innkeeper looked over her shoulder and she followed his gaze to find Derrin’s face blank. He looked at her innocently and she shook her head. The innkeeper led them down the hall, which was dotted with old paintings. Most of them had paint chipping away or corners standing up like dog ears. She grimaced and avoided touching anything.

The man unlocked a room and left the key in the door for her before shuffling away. Khaya thought she heard him murmur something about ‘strange woman’. She brushed it off as she entered the room. Derrin closed the door behind him. It wasn’t a small room, but suddenly it felt like a closet.

The bed was pushed up against the walls in the corner of the room. A double bed. She glanced over at Derrin. He'd best not be getting any ideas about sharing the bed. He didn’t seem to take any notice of her glare. He was standing by the window, peering out. “What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Nothing in particular,” he said. “And anything at all.”

She snorted. If he was trying to sound mysterious, he was failing. Badly. She looked at the basin under the rickety wash stand. There were two dead flies in it and a brown smear. She didn’t even want to think about what that might be.

A wash would have been nice, but she thought that would probably be counterproductive in this place.

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Go ahead and get into bed. I will be staying up a while longer. Just to make sure you weren’t followed here.”

And what made him so sure
he
wasn’t followed,
she thought irritably. She swallowed the question and pulled the blankets off the bed. She sniffed at them and grabbed the lamp, holding it low above the bed to inspect the sheets.

Derrin chuckled. “Will you put that thing down before you set the bed alight?”

“Hmph,” she said. “Burning down might not be the worst that could happen to this dump.” Satisfied that the bed at least looked decent enough to sleep on, she left the blankets off and curled up on it.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?”

“You can use those,” she said. “I’d rather be cold than sleep under those musty things.”

She furtively glanced at the stranger several times before she finally fell asleep. He hadn’t moved from his post by the window.

BOOK: Riddle of Fate
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