Chapter 9

Chapter

Nine

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The clothes were a good fit, but they felt foreign on me, coarse and scratchy, giving little chance for my skin to breathe. The maid's long skirt caught between my legs as I walked, and I found myself stomping around in irritation and yanking at my skirt for most of the day. The buttons on my blouse tightened all the way up my neck to below my chin, feeling like fingers gripped tight around my throat. I pulled at the collar constantly and was tempted to open all the buttons just so I could breathe. I wasn't sure how long I could remain in this outfit before I snarled and ripped it from my body.

Romelda gave me the perfect two-legged form, yet she couldn't do a lot about my size. While I wasn't my usual Huungardred height, I was taller than all the women I worked alongside and a lot of the men, which inadvertently made me the focus of their attention. Countless times, I touched the side of my face where my beastly features would be, anxious Romelda's spell had faded and exposed my true identity. Feeling only smooth skin where my beast form should've been was disconcerting, leaving me feeling estranged from my body.

For days, whenever I glimpsed my reflection, I paused and stared, disturbed by the woman looking back at me. Although the face was mine, the missing beastly aspect left me profoundly unsettled, and I couldn't help but loathe the change. In my reflection, I saw little of the woman I truly was, a woman with pride, resourcefulness, and strength. Instead, I saw a tall, ungainly woman, little different from those around me who were fragile of mind and preoccupied with nonsensical ideals like physical flawlessness.

The seneschal struggled to find me clothes that fit. She'd tutted and frowned, rummaging through the men's supplies to find boots large enough. My hands were too big for the delicate jobs expected of me, making my work clumsy. I soon discovered it took one stern look for any who dared find complaint in my work to send them scurrying away. After that happy discovery, I frowned at everyone, even the friendly servants, such was my mood at being forced to endure this two-legged form.

I would endure for Tamas, but it needn't be for too long. Romelda was true to her word, providing a letter of employment, which somehow captivated the seneschal. Whatever magical craft Romelda wove into her letter, the seneschal sent for the queen's lady's maid and dismissed her in front of me. She was young and her tears stirred my pity. I knew little of life in Tolum, or the castle, but enough to know employment was a necessity to survive and scarce. But she was young and would surely find another position soon enough.

I couldn't afford to be distracted with the fates of any two-legged, whose lives were insignificant to my murderous task. To succeed, my sole focus had to be on my goal, especially given Romelda's warning that her spell wouldn't last indefinitely.

The one obstacle to my employment I'd not expected was the Salmun, who'd read Romelda's letter with interest, then inspected me with equal interest. I had no knowledge of magic, yet I had always held the Nazeen in high regard as a powerful and ancient order of witches. I trusted in Romelda's abilities and felt a smug satisfaction in seeing them outwit the Salmun.

When I first arrived, I felt the fine hairs on my neck prickle at the proximity of all the people. Walking the roads to Emberfell, the two-legged jostled beside me. I swerved around bullocks pulling carts, dodge running children, and bat away persistent hawkers trying to sell me useless trinkets. Many times I wanted to bare fanged teeth and snarl. Even now, days later, the temptation to flee north to the solitude of the forest sometimes overwhelmed me, and I would have to find a solitary corner to close my eyes and calm my breathing, while suffering the sensations overriding my body for control. I'd clutch at my stomach to survive the waves of nausea while jittering nerves rode along the race of my heart. A Huungardred from the north, I was stronger than this; my experiences would put the night terrors into many a feeble mind.

But the Salmun, who shadowed Tressya closely, made my task difficult. And if it wasn't the Salmun observing everything she did, countless others surrounded her, ladies in expensive clothes and jewelry so fine it shone around their necks like the sun. But the one to really make my skin shiver was the Mother of the Sistern. I wasn't scared of her, only what I would lose if she were ever to discover my true identity; of all the people within Emberfell, I felt the Mother would be the one to uncover my deception. Romelda had cautioned me to maintain my distance from the Sistern's Mother to ensure that she would not become suspicious of my true identity for even a moment.

Though aged, she stood tall and moved with catlike grace and ceaseless energy, as though her muscles were constantly coiled to spring. Too many times, I'd felt her shrewd gaze peeling the clothes from my back. A Huungardred didn't scurry like a mouse, and neither could I hide easily amongst the crowds. Instead, whenever she was around, I endured her eagle like stare, kept my back to her as best I could and avoided catching her eye while I completed my chores.

I'd visited Tressya's room this evening, supposedly to prepare her bath, but she wasn't in. I'd left in a tangle of nerves because I'd spent most of the last hour preparing myself for what I had to do. In my mind's eye, I'd watched myself walk through my plan, moving around the room as I'd done for the last few nights, completing my tasks, secretly carrying the vial of poison in my skirts.

Romelda had warned me of Tressya's skill with a dagger. Her ability as a disciple was of no concern, as our beast form was impenetrable to their talent. She controlled spirits too, but if I acted swiftly, a claw laced with poison lancing her skin would end her before she could breathe a word.

I returned to the servants' passages, a cloistered warren of dimly lit corridors within the thick stone walls of the castle, filled with cobwebs and smelling like dead vermin. It allowed the servants to move about Emberfell without being seen. I'd not gone far when I ran into a short redhead, carrying an armful of linen. She pressed herself against the wall as she neared me, seeming intent on passing without touching me.

I filled the narrow passage, blocking her way, ignoring the way she shrunk against the wall. Cobwebs caught in her thick curls, which she didn't seem to notice.

"Where's the queen?"

I rarely spoke to anyone, so it was no surprise she shrank back further. The whimper caught me off guard. In my agitation over losing my quarry in the hunt and my eagerness to complete what I'd steeled myself for, I might have let a snarl creep into my voice, plus my frown was a permanent facial feature, and I suppose my question sounded accusatory, but I didn't think I was that scary.

I had strong features on the human side of my face as a Huungardred. Romelda's spell enhanced those features, giving me a broader forehead, sharper cheekbones and thicker lips and nose. It was as powerful a face as I could hope for while taking this two-legged form. Combined with my height, her reaction as she approached me shouldn't surprise me.

"She's…she's," she shook her head, "in the king's garden."

"Where's that?"

Her voice tempered as she rattled off instructions on how to reach the garden, which required me to remain inside this terrible dust filled corridor, with the stench of death, mildew and ages of neglect for longer than I wanted to.

At times, I was forced to stoop, and when I finally faced the wall at the end of the corridor, I knew I was in the right place. I pushed through into a room of wonder. Greenery filled every crevice, stretching to the glass ceiling and climbing along the windows as if seeking escape to the world beyond.

Tolum was a dead place, without a blade of grass or a tree. The two-legged had built over the natural wonders, replacing green with gray, the fresh, living smells of the wilderness for the odor of rot and decay. Only days I'd been in Emberfell, but already I grieved the vibrancy of the wilds. And here it was, tucked away in a secret captive garden.

I rushed forward, running my hands along the thin boughs of the trees as I passed, grasping the fat leaves, weeping downward as if in greeting, burying my face amongst the splendor and inhaling deep to smell the sweet oily fragrance. A tingle feathered through my blood, exciting my senses, as the first twinge of my fangs pierced my gum.

I reared back, running my tongue over my upper gum, at the same time feeling the side of my face where my beastly form would normally be. I was still human looking. Even so, my fangs itched to extend. And I longed to release them as much as I longed to rip these clothes from my body and run.

I stepped back into the garden, immersing myself amongst the foliage, wrapped broadleaves across my body and closed my eyes while focusing on my raging heartbeat; let the captured forest nurture me and restore me. Here I would find my peace, for however short a time. Now that I knew this captive garden existed, I would seek its comfort whenever I felt the immensity of my task, drawing the walls of this castle in on me.

Stepping out from the shelter of the foliage, I noticed an iron table positioned at the heart of the garden. From this central point, two paved paths branched out, weaving into the thick greenery until they vanished from sight. A third path stretched towards an open glass doorway.

The table was set for tea, the cups still warm. Unfinished sandwiches remained of their feast. Who was Tressya entertaining?

I headed out the open doorway and onto a gravel path that followed along the side of the castle. Despite the majesty of the captive garden, little life was to be found out here. The tree's limbs hung heavy, their leaves dried on the ground. Someone had tamed the hedges into square shapes and left the flower beds to wilt and brown.

With the sun low on the horizon, Emberfell's black stone cast an eerie gloom on its surroundings. The aged, drab colors of my maid's clothes concealed me against the stone as I moved further along the path .

I encountered no one by the time I reached the back of the castle. Ahead, sprawled a field dotted with shabby circular garden beds. I was still a distance back, but with my keen Huungardred sight, I spied the ladies in their expensive dresses of velvet and fur, their hems trailing in the dirt, milling around a small fountain. Further along, I saw Tressya and Gusselan, the dead king's queen, sitting on a large swing seat, supported by thick chains slung from a large boughed tree. They appeared to be having an amicable conversation.

Though I knew little about the minds of the two-legged, this much I understood: those with power were often adversaries, so I hadn't expected a friendship between rivals. Reluctantly, I admired Tressya for befriending the ex-queen. I shouldn't. It didn't help to feel any goodwill toward the person I was here to kill.

Maybe Tressya was being strategic rather than generous. Gusselan wasn't much of a threat anymore. Stripped of her title and no sons to claim the throne, Tressya could afford to align herself with someone who knew a great deal about the court Henricus built. It was better I believed in her cunning than her charity.

To accomplish my mission, I simply had to familiarize myself with Tressya's routine and strategize accordingly. Nevertheless, I wasn't opposed to eavesdropping, considering it advantageous for everyone in the north to gather as much intelligence as possible on the new queen and her potential schemes while I was here. However, my towering size, coupled with this damn skirt that seemed intent on twisting around my legs and tripping me up, and the boots making an awkward noise against the gravel, stealth was near impossible. Although I didn't need to be close, given my hearing was as superior as my eyesight.

I diverted from the path across the barren field, gritting my teeth with every crunch of the dead grass under my boots. If luck was on my side, I'd reach the small thicket of dead trees close to the swing seat without being spotted.

I kept half an on eye on the courtiers huddled around the fountain and loped along, doubling over in an effort to reduce my size. With the darkening sky, I couldn't have chosen a better time to spy.

Two Salmun were present, their backs to me, keeping their distance from the courtiers while giving Tressya and Gusselan room to talk in private. I wasn't close, but even a distant proximity to them ran spikes across my neck. So far, I'd kept out of their way, not wanting any reason for them to scrutinize me further than they'd done on the first day of my employment. I feared they would see through my disguise once Romelda's magic waned. And that was one more reason to accomplish what I was here to do as quickly as possible.

Once I reached the thicket, I buried myself deep amongst the scrappy branches of the dead trees, swatting twigs threatening to catch in my plait. The loamy soil swallowed my noise, enabling me to move as close as I dared. Once their voices were clear, I sunk to the soft bed of decayed weeds and rested my head against the tree to listen, while burying my fingers in the damp soil, savoring the feel of the soft crumbling texture digging into the beds under my nails.

"I guarantee your safety," Tressya said.

There was a slight pause before Gusselan spoke. "I want to believe you. "

I watched Tressya shift on the seat, turning her body toward Gusselan. "The Mother grows frustrated with her place in Emberfell."

"And with you, I would say."

"I'm no longer the disciple she sent away."

In their shared glance, I read a shared sentiment. Gusselan, too, felt changed.

"She has no allies in Tolum, which makes her situation precarious. Powerful people don't like feeling caged. I would be careful, Tressya."

The ex-queen spoke wisdom. I would guess Tressya had thought the same for she appeared pensive, her brows closing together as she sat in thought.

Gusselan stared ahead to the drab garden. "I've sent word to my superior, requesting a safe passage home. I feel there is nothing keeping me here."

"I understand, but I don't want you to go. You agreed to help me navigate the court, teach me my friends from my foe."

Gusselan let out a short laugh. "You killed most of your foe during the Ashenlands war."

"Yes, but you must have heard the talk, how the peerage are loathed to acknowledge me as queen. I feel I'm making new enemies every time I breathe."

Tressya leaned her body ever so slightly toward Gusselan, perhaps unconsciously, in a desperate bid to convince the older woman to stay.

"The crown will always have enemies. The Salmun will ensure none can touch you."

"Like they did your sons," Tressya snapped, then her face fell the moment the words were out. She expression appeared repentant by what she'd said.

Gusselan turned her face away.

"I'm so sorry. That was spiteful and cruel of me to say."

"And true." Gusselan's voice was strained.

Tressya closed her eyes, as if searching for something to bridge the silence.

"You're right, Tressya. You're no longer the same woman. Your Mother Divine knows that. I see the way she looks at you when she thinks she's not been watched. I know loathing when I see it, but I also know the look of fear. You've grown into a woman she no longer knows how to control."

I didn't know the young queen well enough—it was in my best interests to keep it that way—to feel confident I could interpret her thoughts through her expressive face. But I was sure she was keeping a secret. Her eyes shifted beyond Gusselan, unfocused as though she'd fallen inside of her head, thinking on dark thoughts.

"Then I'm going to have to be smart. And I need allies around me. Perceptive and cunning allies like you."

"Tressya—"

"Listen. Your goal was to keep anyone connected to King Bezhani from taking his place on the Bone Throne." She seized Gusselan's hands. "Maybe this is not the way you expected to succeed, but you've succeeded, nonetheless. I'm not of the Levenian line. You, yourself told me so. I have no links to King Bezhani or the Salmun.

"What do you think this wicked king of yours will do if he ever discovers a queen with a bloodlink to the north sits on the Bone Throne?" Tressya continued .

It made sense the young queen would know of her heritage.

"I don't wish to think about that possibility. But you realize once the Etherweave rises, once the new ruler sits upon the Bone Throne, Bezhani will set sail for Tarragona, bringing with him the might of Yaslana and the Salmun with him."

Tressya laughed. "If this Etherweave is so powerful, I don't know what he thinks he can achieve going up against me."

The arrogance of the young queen. Already she believed herself the ruler of the Bone Throne.

"I ask you never to underestimate a man such as King Bezhani. His cruelty is limitless, and his desire for power is insatiable."

"But he is just a man. Is he not?"

"He's lived longer than any normal man." Gusselan fidgeted. "I can't say. There are rumors. He's immersed himself in the Salmun's teachings and practices. It's possible he's found some way with the aid of the Salmun to transcend his human limitations, but we've lost too many of our order in trying to infiltrate Yaslana to learn if the rumors are true.

"Whatever monster he may be, the king is not my greatest fear. The Salmun possesses unparalleled knowledge of the Etherweave. They harbor a library beneath the Bone Throne, dedicated, I believe, to all ancient lore regarding the Etherweave. Andriet once shared that all except the Salmun are barred from the place—the king himself wasn't an exception."

"Yes, I've heard of this library. "

"Given their millennium of research and study, it's logical to say they've devised means to either harness the Etherweave for their own ends or to bind its wielder under their control."

Tressya sat back, puffing her cheeks before noisily exhaling the air. Then she ducked her head, pressing her thumbs into the corners of her eyes. "It's such a headache." Lifting her head, she said. "And all the more reason for you to stay here with me. Together we are stronger."

I rolled my head along the trunk of the tree, turning my head away from their conversation. I felt as though I wasn't ready to hear anymore, for everything I'd heard was deeply disturbing.

If all Gusselan had said was true, by removing Tressya, I placed Tamas in grave danger of being controlled by the north's greatest enemy.

I came to the south for Tamas, agreeing to Romelda's scheme because I wanted him free, only to cast him into a fate far worse, if I was to believe what was said.

I was not pure of heart. Tressya was a Razohan. Distance as her bloodlink may be, she was capable of forming a full partner bond with Tamas. I couldn't bear the idea. Yet, listening to her now, she didn't sound evil at heart, nor the manipulative shrew Romelda had me believe. No one conniving and greedy for power would care for the fate of another.

I slipped from my hiding spot at the base of the tree and hurried back toward the castle. Compelled by conflicting emotions, I yearned to run, strip myself free of my confines and run until I was choking for air and my legs quivered and spasmed with exhaustion. I wanted to escape the evil thriving in the hearts of our enemy, those who walked on two-legs. I didn't, because there was far more at stake than the ache in my heart. The problem was, I simply didn't know what to do next. It seemed Tressya was no longer under the sway of her order.