Chapter 27
For a long moment when Josiah opened his eyes, he thought he had to be dreaming again. As far as he could tell, he lay in someone's bed in a small cozy room, and the silken sheets cradled his body like the hard floor of his cell had not.
He had to be dreaming, and yet this did not feel like a dream. And didn't he remember--Yes. Two faces. Two elves. Talking to him. Telling him that he was safe.
As if he could ever be safe without his Master's constant presence in the back of his mind.
More memories surfaced as he lay staring out the windows at the sunlight outside.
Outside was such a lovely word.
He remembered the red stone that had fused to the bones in the palm of his hand. He remembered Amalea and Kyren--the elves, yes--removing the spells and the iron that prevented him from fighting back, and he remembered gathering the last tiny bits of his talent to break Althea's spell.
And he had broken it. That was probably why he felt so weak.
"You're awake," a new voice said, and another elf appeared at the foot of the bed. She was old, this elf, and dressed in a faded purple velvet dress. Despite its age--and her age--Josiah thought she looked like an ancient Queen. Regal, but not cold. Her eyes were kind as she looked down at him.
He opened his mouth and licked his lips. "I'm awake."
"You're very weak, so don't try to get up," the elf said. "My name is Mirella. Your Master will be very happy when you return."
Josiah's mind was still sluggish, or else he would have been alarmed much sooner at her words. But he couldn't seem to summon up enough strength to do anything but stare at her.
Her eyes were bird-bright and bright blue. Kind eyes. And vaguely familiar, as if he had seen her once before, perhaps a long, long time ago.
"You know." What would his Master say? Josiah felt tears trickle down his cheeks, surprising him. He hadn't realized how much faith he had stored away with the faint hope that he would somehow push past the spells and feel his Master's presence in his mind again.
"I know," Mirella said. "I've known about you for many, many years. Not here--if I had known you were here, I would have killed Magdalen myself!" The kindness was gone from her gaze and anger replaced it, soon followed by fury, but not at Josiah. "You were caught in a mess that we allowed to happen, Josiah. And I realize our apologies won't mean much to you, but that is all I have to give." She hesitated. "Kyren and Amalea should be on their way back with a Healer for you. That way when we contact your Master, at least you'll be a bit stronger."
Josiah sensed a strange mix of fear and reluctance from her, as if she did not wish to set him free. Or, perhaps more likely, she was afraid of what his Master might do, once he learned what had happened.
"Thank you," he whispered, and hoped they did not imprison him again. He would have to fight them, and he barely had enough strength to keep his eyes open and speak at the same time.
Kyren knew as well. Josiah remembered telling him--but that had been an accident. He sighed.
The reluctance fled. "Child--" Mirella shook her head. "You might be older than me, Josiah. And I am calling you a child." She smiled at him. "You will return to your Master. I am only concerned about his reaction to the news that you are not dead as he--and everyone else--thought."
It was a valid concern. Gabriel was not known for his patience or his even temper. And Josiah could even sympathize with Mirella's dilemma. But he did not want to wait.
Unfortunately, he knew without even trying that he did not have enough strength to leave the castle on his own. Not yet, at least.
So he would have to wait.
Perhaps he should have taken Kyren up on his offer, before. Perhaps then, he would be with the Hunt instead of still trapped in this castle with its dampening spell that he could not break.
He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing pain from his wounded hand and the desperate weariness that still threatened to drag him down into darkness.
"Amalea left some food--are you hungry?"
Josiah's stomach cramped at the word food, but he doubted he had enough strength to actually eat. "Yes."
It was broth, at least, and easy to swallow. Mirella had to lift him up and feed him like a tiny baby because he was too weak to hold the delicate cup in his hand.
And it helped give him a ledge to stand on against the draining weariness, and lessened the horrible pounding in his head.
He drank the whole cup, and then another, without choking once. By the time she had refilled the cup for the third time, he felt strong enough to sit up with the aid of pillows--and drink it himself.
"You spoke to Kyren, before," Mirella said abruptly. "Did he offer you anything?"
Josiah stared at her for a long moment before replying. 'He offered to carry me out onto the balcony and allow me to contact my Master," he said, hoping his words did not get Kyren into trouble.
Mirella's eyebrows rose. "And you--you refused?"
"I told him that I would rather not have the bond between us vanish again if I had to go back inside this spell," Josiah said. "And that was the truth. But I--I regret that I did not allow him to contact my Master. It would be--" He felt tears gather in his eyes now, and tried not to let them fall. "It would be nice to know that I have not been forgotten."
"Ah, child--" She sighed. "I wish--"
Josiah closed his eyes, fighting to push past the crushing disappointment. "I understand."
"No, damn it all. You shouldn't have to. Not anymore. Can you walk?"
Mirella helped him sit up without the aid of pillows this time, and he managed to swing his legs over the side of the bed on his own. But that was all he could manage; the thin ledge of strength was eroding fast, and when he opened his eyes, his vision was ringed in black.
"You are not ready for this," Mirella said. "But if you ask, I will help you onto the balcony."
"Please?" Josiah's muscles quivered as he tried to hold himself up. "Will you be punished?"
Mirella laughed. "No. The Queen will not like my decision, but she will not punish me. Tell your Master we've summoned a Healer so he doesn't think we are cruel." Mirella put his arm around her shoulders and lifted him up. "You weigh nothing, child!"
Josiah did not reply. He was too busy trying to remember how to walk--one foot in front of the other. His legs refused to hold him for long, however, so Mirella had to bear most of his weight.
The second he stepped into fresh air, he tensed as the bond bloomed in his mind. He felt his Master's presence for the first time in ten years, filling a hole inside his mind that was long empty.
But even before he made his presence known, he realized that all was not well with the Hunt.
The bond was faded, dampened, he thought, as Gabriel worked to ease something from Malachi's mind. It was a spell, or something, that required all of his concentration. If Josiah were to break in now--He shivered. It would be disastrous.
"I cannot contact him now," he whispered, and dampened the bond himself as Mirella lowered him into a chair. "He is--Something happened to Malachi, and he is trying to find out the details."
"Something bad?" Mirella asked.
"Bad enough for him to almost close the bond between us," Josiah whispered. "He--"
He would have continued, but something terrible severed the bond in that instant--and the only thing that could sever the bond was the death of a Hound.
Malachi?
Josiah collapsed, sliding off the chair and landing on the balcony floor, deaf as well as blind as the shock reverberated through his soul. He heard someone talking--or, rather, felt the vibration of their speech--but he could neither hear nor understand their words.
Something had gone wrong. A horrible something that left him bereft again, alone.
The voice faded as he tried to make sense of what had happened. He felt cold stone beneath his cheek, wet with his tears, and tried to struggle against the darkness, but it carried him away before he could muster enough strength to stay.
Chapter 28
"...some sort of spell? He collapsed, Grandmother. What else was I supposed to do?"
Amalea, Nathaniel's mind supplied. Her name was Amalea.
"I would have said leave him there." This voice was older, and half-familiar, as if he had heard it before. But he did not know its name. "However, before you protest, I do believe you did the right thing. He isn't under a spell. Something broke. I helped Josiah onto the balcony--"
Josiah? Josiah was here?
"You did what?!" Amalea's voice rose.
"I helped him onto the balcony," her Grandmother said. "It would be another month of delays if we waited for approval, and unlike Kyren, who offered him the same thing, I am fairly immune to any sort of punishment."
"What happened?" Amalea asked.
"He told me that something bad had happened to Malachi--I assume that's another Hound--and that his Master could not be disturbed at the moment. Whatever happened--"
Nathaniel forced his eyes to open. For a moment, he couldn't comprehend where he lay; the shadows and vantage points were all wrong until he realized that he lay on the floor.
"The bond shattered," he whispered, not really caring if they heard him. Someone died. But not Josiah, evidently. "Where is Josiah?"
Amalea appeared in his line of vision and extended her hand to help him up. "He's lying on the bed right above you. I'm sorry--I only have one bed."
After a moment's hesitation, Nathaniel took her hand and let her pull him up. He did not attempt to stand--the bond's destruction had left him weak and aching. "And he is alive?"
"He is unconscious, but breathing," Amalea's grandmother said. "I assume he was affected as you were."
"Yes." Nathaniel leaned his head back against the bedframe and closed his eyes. Everything ached, but his head pounded in time with his heartbeat, dulling his senses. But he couldn't sit there and take their word as truth that Josiah truly lay in the bed, unconscious. They had no real reason to lie to him, but after ten years-- With a groan, he pushed himself to his knees and opened eyes that were suddenly blurred by tears.
Josiah did lay in the bed. He had not changed from the last time Nathaniel had seen him--his face had not aged at all. The shadows around his eyes were new, and his paleness--Josiah had always been pale, but this went beyond the simple avoidance of sunlight. This was the sickly paleness of weakness and hunger, something that the Hounds had never known.
"Amalea did not give me your name," her grandmother said. "Might I have it?"
"If you give me yours in return," Nathaniel said. "I am Nathaniel."
"Mirella."
He recognized the name, even though he did not remember ever meeting her. "Ah. I see. And the cousin Amalea lost?"
"His name is Kyren," Amalea said.
"He--He was the elf who murdered Jacob Daulton." Josiah's voice was soft and uncertain, as if he did not quite believe in Nathaniel's presence. He blinked, his eyes heavy with weariness, and glanced at Amalea and Mirella.
Did he expect them to claim Nathaniel's presence a hallucination?
"We won't be staying here," Nathaniel said, well-aware that they could very well keep them both prisoner without much trouble at all.
"I didn't expect you would," Mirella said.
"Are you truly here?" Josiah asked, his voice breaking as tears spilled down his cheeks.
Nathaniel struggled to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed. When he touched Josiah's hand, the younger Hound burst into tears--loud, wracking sobs that would tax his strength even further--or help him heal.
Nathaniel glared at the elves, despite his efforts to remain civil. "Will you leave us alone for a moment?"
Amalea looked as if she wanted to protest, but Mirella drew her away, her own eyes bright with tears. They did not go far--the other end of the room--but that was far enough. Awkwardly, Nathaniel drew Josiah into his arms.
The Hunt wasn't overly demonstrative of affection. Gabriel punished more than praised, and every kind word was a diamond in a sea of coal. But after ten years away from the bond and the Hunt, Josiah needed comforting. And he needed to know that he was no longer alone.
"W-Who died?" His voice was muffled from where he had pressed his face into Nathaniel's chest.
"I don't know," Nathaniel whispered. "I had followed Seth--and I think he may have walked into a trap." He hesitated. "I don't think it was Malachi." It hurt to even consider any possibility, but someone had died.
Josiah glanced at Mirella and Amalea. "What did she tell you?"
"That you were alive and that a witch named Magdalen was involved." Nathaniel rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to ease away the pain. "But we didn't have much time to talk." He hesitated. "She guessed I was a Hound."
"It is not just Magdalen who is involved in this," Josiah whispered. "And it is not just me. What happened to Kyren?"
"According to Amalea, he was lost inside the Daulton house, although I do not understand how that is possible," Nathaniel said. "I saw Seth vanish inside it as well--or, inside of its influence, but--"
"Althea Dunning made a bargain with Magdalen to give her the Hunt in exchange for a spell," Josiah whispered. "All she ever wanted was to be a member of the Council, and Magdalen helped her achieve that."
"By imprisoning you? For ten years?" Nathaniel shook his head. "A member of the Council would do such a thing?"
"When Lucas put my name on the list, he had to remove someone else's name," Josiah said, struggling not to cry again.
"Kyren was involved, as well."
Nathaniel had not noticed Amalea's approach. Mirella was gone--he had not noticed her departure, either.
Was there a spell, here, too, to dull his mind and instincts?
But Josiah did not seem concerned. He kept a tight grip around Nathaniel's waist, but his tears had stopped.
For the moment.
"What do you mean, Kyren was involved?" Since Amalea held the keys to their departure, Nathaniel thought it prudent not to alienate her, especially now.
"He was involved with Magdalen," Amalea said. "He approached Althea for the initial meeting, among other things. He did not know of Josiah's presence in the space behind the mirror, but he knew what Magdalen and Althea planned."
"Then he is just as guilty as--"
Josiah cut him off before he could finish that sentence. "Magdalen ordered him to kill me and he didn't. Give him that, at least."
Amalea's surprised glance told Nathaniel that she had not expected Josiah's words. "I don't wish to condone what he did, but Magdalen is a very powerful witch. I don't think he had much choice, after that first incident. She used his royal blood to establish herself in this castle until we banished her almost a month ago. The Stefan who hurt your--who hurt Malachi is her Hound."
"Have you told the Council?" Nathaniel asked. He wasn't about to comment on Kyren's involvement without knowing more information.
"Not yet," Amalea said. "And before you protest, we realize they need to be contacted. But the delays are political, in truth. And my grandmother decided to forego all the delay and allow Josiah to step outside the dampening spell."
"Did you--Did you contact our Master?" Nathaniel asked.
"No. He was--occupied with Malachi," Josiah said. "I didn't want to disturb him--it might have been disastrous."
"And then the bond shattered--Is Malachi alive?" Nathaniel closed his eyes and wished he was anywhere but this castle. "We have to leave."
"Truly--" Amalea's voice was soft, but insistent. "Josiah is in no shape to travel."
Nathaniel glanced down at him and saw that Josiah's eyes had closed again. "The Healer is at our house," he said.
"Then go and fetch her," Amalea said. "Or, better yet, I'll go with you. My grandmother can stay here--"
"That worked well when you left with your Cousin," Nathaniel said. He didn't realize how his words had to sound until Amalea flinched. "I am sorry."
"No, you speak the truth," Amalea said. "I did leave him to his fate. There is little I can do if I cannot get past those spells." But her gaze was haunted by guilt, as if she wished she could do much more. "I have--scouts watching the perimeter at the moment. Until we find a way past her spells, there isn't much more we can do."
"They are Magdalen's spells, then?" Nathaniel asked. "How can that be true? Malachi was the one who Magdalen took, not Seth."
"It is Seth's death, I'd guess, that shattered your bond," Amalea said. "I am sorry. Kyren is probably dead as well, but I have no way to tell. Magdalen would not have been pleased with his inability to obey her orders."
Was Jordan in the house as well? Nathaniel thought that might be a possibility, but how was the house still in existence and not in existence at the same time? "Was the house burned down when you saw it?"
"It was at first," Amalea said. "But we crossed the Veil and it wasn't. It was restored. Kyren saw it first--he was--he was rather maudlin about seeing it whole again."
"We cannot stay here," Nathaniel said, but he was loathe to leave Josiah alone. What if he vanished again? What if awoke and thought Nathaniel's presence had been a dream?
"He is in no shape to travel," Amalea said. She would have said more, but someone knocked on the door--a sound that reverberated through the adjoining room.
Josiah twitched in his sleep.
"Who would be knocking?" Nathaniel asked.
"My brother, Airis," Amalea said with a frown. "That's strange--" But she showed no hesitation when she left the room to answer the door.
Nathaniel sat beside Josiah and wished there was another way out of her rooms. Even a portal would have been preferable to only one door; he wanted an escape route if he had to flee the castle quickly. And the balcony didn't seem to offer much in the way of escape.
He heard voices now--sharp voices, as if Amalea did not like the news her brother bore. Habit made him strain to listen in, if only because the news probably had something to do with the Hunt.
"This is not any more pleasant for me, Amalea," her brother said, his voice low, as if he didn't want anyone to overhear. "But just as you cannot ignore a summons, I cannot ignore an order." He paused. "The Hound will keep. Magdalen is gone from the castle, and cannot return. She cannot harm him here."
"I am not leaving until Grandmother returns," Amalea said. "And you can tell Mother that--summons or no. I will not leave--" She stopped then, and Nathaniel could almost feel her retreat. "How do you know he is a Hound? I only just found out myself."
"Someone must have told me," Airis said, but Nathaniel heard the falseness in his tone of voice. "Grandmother, perhaps--"
"No. She didn't tell you." Amalea sounded angry now, and perhaps a little frightened. "We decided not to tell anyone, save Mother, and even then--Who told you, Airis?"
"Does it matter?" Nathaniel heard a thunk, as if Amalea's brother had tried to push open the door--and failed. "Amalea, have I ever lied to you before?"
Quietly, so as not to alarm either elf, Nathaniel slid off the bed and tiptoed to the door. It was obvious that Airis' informant did not know of his presence--and that would be a good thing, if Amalea's brother had somehow been compromised.
He saw them now--Airis was a taller, more masculine version of his sister--but they did not notice him at all.
"No. You've never lied to me," Amalea said, but she didn't step away from the door. "But Josiah's presence here was supposed to be a secret. If someone has--"
It was a small gesture, nothing more. Nathaniel didn't even realize that Airis had cast a spell--or tried to, at least.
Amalea laughed, but her laughter seemed forced. "Brother, how long has she had you in her thrall?"
"You don't understand," Airis said urgently. "This is all. She will have no hold over me after I take care of the Hound." He tried to get past her, but she blocked him--both with force and magic, Nathaniel thought.
Airis blanched and stepped back--Amalea tried to close the door, but he persisted, his face bathed in sweat and desperation, his eyes wide. "Do not attempt to stop me, Amalea. Please. I beg of you--"
And then--outside of Amalea's line of sight, Nathaniel caught a glimpse of something long and thin tucked into the waistband of Airis' silken breeches. A hilt. And as Amalea struggled to close the door, her brother drew the dagger from his belt.
It was still out of Amalea's line of sight. If he struck quickly enough, she would die before she had a chance to defend herself.
And then--what would happen to Josiah?
Without considering the consequences, Nathaniel shifted shape and burst through the doorway in a dead run, leaping even before Airis had a chance to do the unthinkable.
Instead of stabbing his sister while he had the chance, Airis pushed her away, his eye on a bigger prize. Perhaps he thought Nathaniel was Josiah, miraculously restored. Perhaps he didn't care, and only wanted to fulfill his obligation to Magdalen by killing a Hound.
Either way, he thrust too soon, and the dagger merely glanced off Nathaniel's ribs, slicing through skin and muscle, yes, but the wound was hardly fatal.
He did not have a chance for another thrust. Nathaniel's momentum knocked him to the floor of the empty hallway. His head bounced against the stone wall--again, not a fatal wound, but painful.
Nathaniel had no desire to tear out his throat, and Airis showed no sign of wanting to attack anyone. Indeed, the elf's eyes slid shut and he collapsed under Nathaniel's weight, unconscious.
The dagger lay near his outstretched hand. Nathaniel kicked it away.
Only then did he glance up at Amalea, who stood there, disheveled and frozen in place, her eyes wide.
Warily, Nathaniel slipped past her, back into the room. When he shifted shape, the wound across his ribs pulled painfully, and it took him a moment to stand.
"You're hurt," Amalea whispered, then cleared her throat and repeated the words. "I--I--Thank you. I think--You saved my life."
It hurt worse to stand. Nathaniel sank into a chair, and tucked one hand under his shirt. His skin was already slick with blood. "I saw the dagger--" He started to shrug, then winced as the movement pulled at his wound. "I think he would have stabbed you to get to Josiah."
"Magdalen is--" Amalea's face darkened. "Damn her. My own brother!"
"He may not have had a choice," Nathaniel said. "What will happen now?"
"I--" Amalea rummaged in a basket filled with linens and pulled out a swath of cream-colored fabric. "Here. Wrap this--No, you'll hurt yourself if you do it--Pull up your shirt." She smiled when Nathaniel hesitated. "Please. Slowly, so you don't hurt yourself."
Nathaniel managed to pull up the pertinent side of his shirt with one hand, but he couldn't raise his arms without wincing from the pain. He flinched at her touch--and before he could protest, she smeared some sort of salve over his wound, then wrapped the cloth around his ribs as a makeshift bandage. Her hands were hot--too hot, almost--and a flush stained her cheeks when she glanced up at him.
"That will have to do until you can get to a Healer," Amalea said, and stepped away from him, as if seeing the wound was almost more than she could bear. "This won't be her only attempt, you realize. She has to have others--just waiting to have their chance."
"We should go, then," Nathaniel said. "I thank you for what you've done so far, but Josiah doesn't belong here, and neither do I." But when he tried to stand, his legs threatened to collapse and send him crashing to the floor.
"Wait. Just a moment more, please," Amalea said. "Let me find my grandmother, and take my brother to a secure place. And then you can leave, but I'm coming with you--at the very least within sight of your home."
Nathaniel thought to argue, or protest, but the glint in her eye gave him pause. And did he have any real reason not to allow her to come? He closed his eyes, tired beyond belief. "Very well."
"I'm going to lock the door," Amalea said. "No one will be able to get in--and you won't be able to leave, either--I'm sorry about that, but I won't be long. I promise you that."
Nathaniel nodded without opening his eyes. It didn't really matter--he had no idea how to get out of the castle, save for climbing down the balcony, and even then, he would need a rope.
He expected to hear the door close, or to feel some indication that Amalea's spells had been put into place. And perhaps he drifted off for a little while, because when he next opened his eyes, he was alone.
The wound was not the worst part. It was the combination of the bond's destruction, Josiah's reappearance, and the cut across his ribs that drained his strength away.
He managed to walk into the bedroom and sink down on the edge of Josiah's bed. Despite the fact that Josiah barely made a dent in the fluffy mattress, there was not enough room on the bed for two Hounds--at least in human form.
In the end, Nathaniel shifted shape, curled up at the foot of Josiah's bed, and fell asleep, trusting that Amalea's spells would keep them safe.
(Next Update: October 8th)
House St. Clair Home
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