Temperance (9 page)

* * *

Naeve was the first to step forward and examine the map that seemed to be alive in front of them.

“How are you doing that?” she wondered aloud as she reached out to touch the images on the stone.
 

But before Bastian could answer, Siobhan interrupted, “What is it?”

Bastian straightened and turned to face her sisters. “This…is Arcania.”

“Yeah, I figured that would be your answer.” Siobhan walked closer and prodded, “Want to give a little more info, Magic Man?”

Bastian didn’t respond to her heckling, but he did give her an answer to her question. “It’s a map of the castles, lakes, and villages that are within the borders of our world.”

Naeve continued to trace a finger over the image of a tall tower that was attached to an old, crumbling castle. It was simply mesmerizing the way the shadows and shapes moved under her finger as if it were alive. At the northernmost point of the map were the words ‘Castle Claremont.’

“Where do you live?” she asked.

Bastian turned to see where she was looking and placed his fingers over the lavish castle towards the center of the map, the one that was surrounded by several lakes and a forest that looked so unwelcoming that she’d avoided it even though it was only an image.
 

“Castle L’Mere is my home.”

They all stood there, silently studying the elaborate etching in the center of the map.

“Why is it so dark?” Fiona asked, always curious. “The forest surrounding the castle?”

Bastian glanced over to her and then back to the map. “Our land is infected.
 
All of that darkness is the dead.”

Naeve felt a chill race up her spine, and before she could ask, it seemed Siobhan was reading her mind.
 

“Why?”

“That story is long, and it is not mine to tell. It’s more important that we get you safely to L’Mere.”

Siobhan crossed her arms and peered down the line they’d formed to where Bastian was standing beside the flickering torch. “‘We’ get you to safety? Who is ‘we’? Or are you going to tell me you can make people magically appear too?”

Bastian narrowed his eyes on her but still answered her question as patiently as the others. “No. I cannot make people appear. I can and did, however, contact some men who will lead us back to L’Mere.”

Audra tugged on Naeve’s arm, and she turned to her wide-eyed and, up until now, silent sister.

“I don’t know about this,” she whispered. “Something doesn’t feel right to me.”

Naeve thought that was probably the understatement of the year, but before she could pull Siobhan over to discuss it, she was asking her next question.

“Who’s coming here?”
 

They all turned to face where Siobhan was standing with her hands on her hips and her foot tapping on the ground.

“The Imperial Guard is coming,” Bastian stated, and then he paused for a moment and seemed to think over his next words carefully. “As are the men of Claremont.”

Siobhan started to laugh then, as if she found that answer highly amusing. “So we’re supposed to believe that you’re some kind of magical being, yet we need two armies to get us out of here? In that case, you might as well go and let us wait for the
real
men to show up. Where the hell did you bring us, anyway?”
 

For the first time since Naeve had met him, she saw a foreboding expression cross Bastian’s face as his eyes took on a look that made her think she needed to replace the word ‘magical’ with ‘terrifying.’
 

It seemed as if Bastian’s patience had finally worn out.

He raised both of his hands palms up, and then she heard in her head,
You are and always have been in the center of the Taise Forest. You have merely been under a glamour shield. But now…you are not.

Then he turned his hands, pushed them down, and disappeared.
 

In the blink of an eye, the four of them were left standing in the exact same place they’d originally woken in.
 

The forest darkened by death.

* * *

The sound of the bells in the High Tower indicated that it was time.

Kai made his way down from his chambers, dressed as his men were—in a black leather jerkin, matching pants, and heavy, black strider boots. He met Marcus at the outer gate, where he secured his quiver by a buckle across his chest and then took his bow and slung it over his shoulder.
 

With a quick flick of his wrist he pulled his hood up over his head and strode past his men to where his brother waited, suited up in the shiniest of armor. He stood out like a burning flame.

“Do you wish to blend into the shadows or attract trouble, brother?”

“To me, they have always been one and the same.”

“I thought the idea was to reach the women before the Empress. You look like a shiny plaything. Seraphine will spot you in an instant.”

Ry’Ker shoved the visor of his helmet up and gritted his teeth before he spat out, “And you look like the devil sent straight from Hell.”

“Maybe I do. But at least I’ll reside here in Hell longer than you dressed as you are.”

“Then what do you suggest? That the Commander’s head guard—”

“Yes?” He didn’t miss for a second the way Ry’Ker caught his words before he let them slip free.

“Nothing. Since you know the forest better than anyone else, what do you think would work?”

Kai glanced over him and then stated bluntly, “I’d ditch the outer armor. Buckle your sword and knives around your
hauberk and lose the holier-than-thou attitude.”

Ry’Ker reached up with both hands and jerked his helmet from his head. “What’s my attitude got to do with what I’m wearing?”

Leaning down until they were nose to nose, Kai gave a menacing grin. “Not a single thing, but it’s getting on my last nerve.”

Seething, Ry’Ker raised an arm and clenched his fist.
“If I were not under orders to be here—”

“But you are, aren’t you? Your leader, your land… It needs me, remember? And therefore,” he told him with a quick jab of his finger to the shiny chest plate, “so do you.”

Ry’Ker wisely took a step back and struggled to get ahold of himself. Kai had always admired that about him when they were kids. He would always react impulsively and let his emotions dictate his decisions. Whereas Ry’Ker was controlled in almost every aspect of his life—except for his temper when it was firmly provoked.

“How many men do you have?” Ry’Ker finally asked.

Straight back to business,
Kai thought
. And that’s what this is—business.

He would do the job. The one his brother had been sent to ask of him. And then he would exact payment—and he would get paid.

“I’m bringing just the ten behind me. You?”

“Twenty waiting five miles to the East of Claremont’s farthest border. If we head out now, we should reach them and then Hei Falls by tomorrow morning at the latest.”

Marcus made his way through the group of men waiting on them and handed over his leather belt, which held his sword and combat dagger.

“Thank you.”

With a slight nod, the man acknowledged quietly, “Of course, Sire.”

Kai fastened it around his waist and made sure the handle was within quick reach across his body. “Well?” he asked. “What are you waiting for, brother? Strip and belt up. Or do you wish to be an exposed whore to the hungry beast?”

When Ry’Ker snarled at him, he offered nothing more than a raised brow as he turned to address his men.

“Listen up. Just as I would advise on any mission, your first concern is that of yourself. You owe nothing to anybody. Once your safety is secured, assist as you are able. We’ll be meeting up with the Imperials just East of the outer border.”

He took a piece of black cloth from his belt, but before he secured it to the side of his hood, he added, “Our orders are to locate and transport these four women safely back to L’Mere. That means nobody is to touch them in any way. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Sire,” his men chorused as he raised the cloth to cover his face.
 

He turned and saw that Ry’Ker had stripped and was indeed dressed as he’d suggested, but he was also cloaked in a black, hooded cape.

“You almost look like—”

“Just lead out and shut your mouth. And I swear, Kai, if you lay a hand on any of them…”

Mala’Kai walked through the huge doors of the outer gatehouse, and as they made their way onto the dirt path that led straight into the darkened forest, he asked, “You’ll what? Kill me?” He laughed as if the thought were absurd and then continued forward, leaving his brother to follow.

“Are you happy now?” Fiona was the first to speak.

Siobhan let out an irritated sigh. “I suppose this is my fault?”

Marching over until she was face to face with Siobhan, Fiona pointed a finger at her. “Well, you are the one who couldn’t keep her mouth shut.”

“And you’re the one who just stood there, mute. At least
I
was trying to get some answers.”

Finally having had enough, Naeve pushed her way between the two of them and held her hands up. “Would the both of you please shut up?”

As the two of them settled, she saw Audra walking towards the tree they had spent the first night huddled against. Her black hair shifted in the breeze as she reached back in a familiar move to gather it over her shoulder. It was crazy to think that they’d now been gone for nearly a day and a half.

How many hours do they typically wait until an adult is declared missing? Twenty-four hours? Forty-eight?

She turned back to face her feuding siblings and asked, “Can’t you two see how much this is affecting Audra? She’s hardly said two words since we woke up here.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re all feeling the effects, Naeve.”

Naeve touched her forehead and then pushed her fingers through her hair as she took a step back. “You know what, Siobhan? Some of us aren’t as strong and brave as you are.”

Siobhan rolled her eyes and walked off to a tree several feet from where they were standing. “I’m going to sit here, silent and helpless, and wait for someone to come save me. Does that work better for you?”

Fiona looked her way and shrugged. “I don’t care what you do. You already managed to piss off the one person who
was
helping us.”

“Oh please. He wasn’t helping us. He was—”

“
Helping
us,” Naeve interjected. “That’s what he was doing.”

Siobhan picked up a stick beside her and threw it as if it would make her feel better. “He was screwing with us. Trying to confuse us into thinking we’re in some place that doesn’t even exist. He probably drugged us too.”

Shaking her head, Fiona muttered, “God help me. I can’t sit with her right now. I’ll kill her.”

Naeve agreed but knew she was the most even tempered, so she volunteered. “I’ll go and sit with her, if you’ll sit with Audra.”

Fiona walked off in the direction of their youngest sister, who was pressed up against the trunk of the giant tree opposite of where Siobhan was seated.
 

Naeve spun around and made her way over to her temperamental sister, who was viciously snapping twigs between her fingers. She looked down at her, and when Siobhan returned her gaze, she noticed for the first time a sliver of fear creep into those amber eyes.
 

Gathering her dress around her legs, Naeve took a seat beside her on the grass and whispered, “It’s okay to be scared, you know, by everything he was saying...”

Siobhan nodded as the wind picked up and the branches started to creak and moan. “It’s not what he was saying, Naeve. It’s
who
and
what
he is,” she confessed, turning troubled eyes to her. “If he’s real, then who are we?”

Naeve hadn’t thought of it like that. Too busy trying to think of a way out of here, she hadn’t really stopped to question her part in all of this. She’d conveniently pushed aside what she’d seen of their mother
and
their father and let Bastian sweep her up in his magic tricks.

Siobhan looked away to stare out into the darkness, and as Naeve continued to watch her, she heard her mutter a question that was truly frightening in its complexity.

“Who do you become when the you that you always were is no longer?”

* * *

Bastian emerged from the shadows above the women and cursed his short fuse. He’d been released from his chambers and sent out here with one simple instruction—keep the women safe until they arrived at L’Mere. Instead, he’d lost his temper.

There weren’t many who dared to doubt him, courtesy of his isolation. But the one who often did so—his father—had made his ego a particularly sore spot, and when poked at, it brought to the surface a side of Bastian he didn’t fully have under control.

His temper.

When Siobhan had called into question his competence, Bastian’s pride had reared its ugly head, and he’d felt a darkness gnaw at him. One that taunted him to
teach them a lesson, prove his superiority.

He’d squelched the urge by getting the hell out of there, but not before jolting some sense into them. They had been scared of him tonight, and maybe that was a good thing.