Текст книги "The poison daughter"

Автор книги: Sheila Masterson

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Текущая страница: 28 (всего у книги 48 страниц)

36HARLOW

We emerge from the Drained Wood to a crowd of fifty hunters. They’re cloaked in the late afternoon shadow of Lunameade’s city walls, but they have weapons drawn for a fight. They lower them as soon as they see that we’re human.

Behind the hunters, a group of engineers and nearly one hundred men are working on the North Hold Gate. A series of pulleys and ropes is constructed around the massive doors. One door is being pushed onto an extra-long carriage flatbed. The other door still stands, but barely.

Seeing the North Hold Gate riddled with claw marks turns my blood cold.

There are always some marks. The doors get replaced every few months. All the gates in the city are a standard size so the smiths in town can remove the damaged ones, melt and reform them, and be ready to replace the next damaged door. The Drained hit the north and south entrances much more frequently, so those gates get replaced almost twice as often as the others.

Personally, I’ve never seen so much damage on one set of gates.

Henry tightens his arm around my waist, as if he senses my tension.

“State your names,” the man at the front of the group of hunters says.

“Harlow Carrenwell, Gaven Pomeroy, Henry Havenwood, Carter Peliet, and Bryce Kennison,” I call.

We already had the full attention of the contingent of hunters, but at the sound of my name, several of the engineers turn to look as well. It would be wise of them to work faster, considering how little daylight is left and the fact that they still have to remove one door and get both new doors installed.

“Make way,” the lead hunter says.

His men form two lines on either side of the gateway. We ride through the half-replaced gates, ignoring the looks from the men around the wall.

The ride through the Drained Wood was uneventful, but now my heart is racing and my palms are clammy as we ride around the side of North Hold Gatehouse. The manor’s dark stone walls cast clawed shadows over the road in front of us.

Aidia. Aidia. Aidia. Her name pounds through my head in time with my pulse. I just need to see her.

One of Henry’s hands comes off the reins and presses to my chest.

I want to squirm away. I don’t want his comfort. I loathe that he even knows I’m anxious, but the ride took most of the day and I spent the entire time tense, not nearly as worried about the Drained in the woods as I am about the ones that shredded the gates.

I relax into him anyway, my heart rate slowing at the contact. It’s frustrating that I’ve spent my entire life holding people at arm’s length for their own safety, and now the one chance I have at casual intimacy is this maddening man, who is the last obstacle between me and Aidia and freedom. What a Divine-damned joke.

As we round the front of North Hold, the glare from the sun flashes off of the windows, and I wonder if my sister is watching me from somewhere safe inside.

Henry slows the horses as we near the front entrance of the house. A huge crowd looms ahead of us, arching around the front steps, and there, atop the stairs, stands Rafe Mattingly, arms lifted and voice raised like a king holding court.

I search for Aidia, but there’s no sign of her. It’s not a surprise that she’s not beside Rafe like a dutiful wife. She has often resisted his publicity stunts, but given how she looked before I left, I know the more likely reason is the state of her face and her unwillingness to glamour away his violence. I respect her conviction, but I hate it right now. Her absence fills me with a cold, impotent terror because I see her bruised, hopeless face every time I close my eyes. I feel her flinching away when I try to hug her. I just want to see her eyes to know that she can hold on a little longer. I’m so close to getting us to the freedom we’ve dreamed about for years.

My parents and Able are on the top step behind Rafe. Most people can’t read the subtle expressions hidden within Harrick Carrenwell’s scowls, but I can. I have to make a quick study of him; I can read his supreme displeasure, just like I can read the mad, swirling blue cloud of his aura like a fierce stormfront moving in.

My mother stands beside him. She’s fabulously outfitted in a dark purple fur-lined coat. Her black hair is pulled back in a severe chignon, and her deep violet eyes are fixed in a look of calm sympathy.

Able is not so well-mastered. He stares holes into the back of Rafe’s head. My oldest brother has always been quick-tempered, with a dark blue aura that spits off little firework sparks when he’s angry, but now those sparks are full-blown explosions. Anyone close with any semblance of magic is sure to feel it.

Fortunately, the crowd seems to be full of those with no Divine blessings, and Rafe seems wholly unbothered, perhaps even a touch delighted by their dismay.

The people are entranced by his impassioned speaking.

“These times test all of our faith, and this failure is mine alone. Don’t blame our leaders. They have done everything they can—have used the power you’ve bought them with your blood—to keep our city safe and secure. The threats outside our walls grow stronger daily and their commitment is unwavering. It is I who has let you all down. As the man you chose to be a voice and advocate for you at the magical tables of Lunameade, I have done my best as mayor to balance what is best for all of you with what is necessary to protect this great city. That’s why I made sure that the blood tithe would never be paid by retired guardsmen.”

I bristle. My father was already going to include that provision, though more for the sake of bolstering his waning popularity than magnanimity. Unfortunately, Rafe has a way of speaking loudest and first. If he were anyone else, I would be entertained by the efficiency with which he antagonizes my father. But his brutality and manipulation have robbed these speeches of any joy.

Able’s aura spins into a full-blown tempest. It builds and builds until I’m genuinely concerned he might have a fit right here in front of everyone. My mother turns to glance at him, and that’s all it takes for him to master it—one cold, disapproving look from Liza Carrenwell.

Still, it’s a bad sign. I have only been gone a few days and Able seems somehow worse.

“It is important at times like these that we honor the dead. Unfortunately, every one of us here knows what it’s like to lose,” Rafe says. He bows his head as if overcome by the loss. “But what I know is that you are all resilient. We are all here because we know how to endure—how to rely on the care of our communities to rebuild after loss. I am grateful that Divine Polm granted me the power to help the North Hold guardsmen stop the attack swiftly. But make no mistake: those ten lives lost are no less felt to me than if I’d lost a hundred of my people. I feel your grief alongside you. I mourn with you.”

Heads nod and people whisper prayers to the Divine. Rafe Mattingly should really have gone into theater because this performance is flawless.

Rafe’s wording is intentional. He takes responsibility and begs forgiveness, while praising my family for coming to the rescue. It’s as much a subtle reminder that they have the power to do that as it is a reminder that he is also merely someone who serves the Carrenwells.

It’s a tactic that my father and Able can’t use. While I’ve watched Rafe’s subtle barbs for years, I still marvel at the ease with which he manages to paint himself as a humble servant of the common people of Lunameade, instead of the wealthy, self-serving, Divine-blessed predator he is.

The rage inside me is like a lightning strike in a dry forest. I am so tired of waiting for him to mess up enough that I can bring him down. Between the panic about the attack and the fact that he’s making himself the foundation of the community daily, that chance might never come. Potent rage swells in my throat.

“Harlow.” Henry’s voice is low and calm in my ear, but his hand presses hard against my chest. “Breathe.”

The words ground me, bring me back into my body and away from the spinning anger. My lips are tingling. My poison. He must have felt it coming on.

Although the Carrenwells are the only family who can see magic through auras, most of the Divine-blessed can feel it.

This kind of slip-up is unacceptable. I am not normally rattled like this, and I’m even more aggravated that Henry knows.

“The noble women of the North Hold pleasure block will not be forgotten. May the Divine deliver them peacefully beyond the veil and may Asher welcome them home,” Rafe says, pressing his fingers to his lips and opening his palm toward the crowd in blessing.

I still. Much as it’s killing me to not hear him talk about her explicitly, the fact that Rafe hasn’t mentioned Aidia in his speech is a good sign. If she had been wounded or killed in the attack, he would have played the sympathy card for all it was worth.

There’s only minimal satisfaction in that. The women of the pleasure block were attacked—as in the women who help with my spying. The fact that it’s all women is concerning. Rafe is saying they were killed, but it’s entirely possible that they’re just missing.

My mind pulls up the nightmarish image of the Breeder’s dark, soulless eyes on me, of the nightmarish scrape of its voice.

I crane my neck to glance at Henry. “Do you think⁠—”

“That it’s the work of Breeders? Maybe. I’ll send Bryce and Carter to get more information once we’ve seen you safely to South Hold.”

On the rare occasions that Henry works with me instead of against me, he’s actually not unbearable as a husband.

At the rear of the crowd, I spot Kellan standing among ten of his guardsmen. He scans the crowd, not as if he’s looking for someone, but at everyone. The crowd is entranced, which can’t be a good thing for him and the rest of the guards.

“I know you’re worried, and in times of crisis, we want to put our anxieties into action, but you are already doing everything in your power to help us maintain the security of the city,” Rafe continues. “I’m grateful for that, and I know our leaders, the Carrenwells, are too. But the sun is growing low and the hour late. The replacement gate will be up within the hour and you can sleep soundly tonight. Go home and be with your families and tomorrow we will do what we have always done after a breach. Thrive.”

The crowd breaks into raucous applause. Their enthusiasm is unsettling.

We wait for the group to disperse, but Rafe seems intent on shaking hands with every single person in attendance. It takes an excruciatingly long time for the people to return to their homes.

I want to urge our horse forward so I can ask my parents how she is, but my mother catches my eye across the short distance and gives a quick shake of her head. Then she points south. She doesn’t want to speak in public. It’s possible she just wants to be away from prying eyes, but it’s more likely that she wants me to ditch Henry somehow.

“Let’s go straight to Carrenwell House and settle in,” I whisper. “My parents will join us when they’re finished here.”

Gaven leads the way through town, with Carter and Bryce behind him and Henry and me holding up the rear.

We’re quiet as we ride through the city. It’s not as busy as it would usually be this time of day. Shop owners turn signs in store windows to Closed and mothers rush their squealing children into cozy homes for supper.

If I hadn’t lived here for so long, it might look like a normal evening. But the lack of pedestrians milling the streets and the way the few that are out and about are constantly looking over their shoulders is very telling to me. The people of Lunameade are used to living in the shadow of fear, but the moment when our borders are truly tested always brings out this wariness.

Bryce and Carter peel off before we enter the southern half of the city. I don’t ask where they’re going because I know Henry won’t tell me.

Once we cross through the southern safety gates, things seem a bit more normal. People chat outside of pubs and couples walk down the street arm in arm. The more distance from the breach, the less immediacy the people carry. Still, there’s a part of me that wonders if this is the result of the excessive number of breaches over the last six months.

“Why wasn’t your sister out there with him for the speech?” Henry whispers.

I swallow the dread caught in my throat. Just being back inside the city walls makes the need to get Aidia away from Rafe more urgent. I have more questions than answers, and while I’m glad Aidia is safe from the Drained, I know the real reason she wasn’t out there holding court beside her husband.

“She’s probably too bruised.”

“Is she not a glamourist?” Henry asks.

I can’t stop the bitter laugh that slips out. “She won’t cover up for him. She likes to make my parents and Rafe look at it. They’d rather hide her away than have her look weak, and Aidia would rather endure any punishment than perform for them. It’s always been like that.”

This is too close, too intimate, just too much. I need anything else to deflect from the sore spot he’s prodding.

Henry hums low, but his aura curls around me in an almost protective way. “I should come in with you when you go to speak with them.”

“You should stay the fuck away. Henry, my family is private.”

“I’m your family.” He says it so calmly.

“You’re my duty.”

“What’s the difference at this point?”

It’s a fair question, but I don’t need to explain this to him now. “I am duty-bound to you. I am blood-bound to them.”

“Which comes first?”

A test of a question if ever there was one. “Whichever will deal me the least damage today. I come first.”

He laughs, a real laugh. When I glance over my shoulder at him, he looks as surprised as I feel. “I wasn’t expecting you to answer honestly.”

“Have you not learned yet, Henry? It’s not about your agenda or their agenda. It’s always been about my own.” I peek at him out of the corner of my eye. I need a way to get him out of the house so I can figure out what’s going on with my father and Able. “When we get to the house, my mother is going to want to hear everything about the wedding. I know she’ll invite us both for dinner, and I’ll be stuck there for hours. Would you go check on Aidia?”

I sense his surprise more than feel it. “She hasn’t even met me.”

“Yes, but if I go, Rafe will be awful and he’ll make sure to keep her from me. You have to understand that he’s the kind of man who wants to humble the world. Just your presence will be a challenge, and while Aidia won’t glamour herself for anyone else, she’s nosy enough that she’ll do it so she can meet you.”

The more I talk, the more I realize how insane it sounds. But I honestly believe what I’m saying.

“You were so anxious to see her,” he says.

“I know,” I say, craning my neck and shifting in the saddle to look at him. “And I still am, but I will just feel better if you set eyes on her today. I know these politics are complicated, but Rafe will know how much I want to see her, and there’s nothing he loves more than to make a woman miserable. She always finds a way to sneak out, but if you go, she’ll know I’m here to check on her.”

The longer Henry is quiet, the more certain I am he knows I’m just trying to get rid of him for a few hours.

“What reason do I give for being there?” he says finally.

“An invitation to Aidia and him for a post-wedding family dinner tomorrow night. You want to invite them as the newest member of the family.”

“Rafe’s magic?”

The thought of it sends a violent shiver through me. My mouth is so dry I can barely get the word out. “Polm.”

If ever there was a man who was made in the image of the Divine of Malice, it’s Rafe Mattingly. Most of the time, I put it out of my head so I don’t have to think about how he might be using that blessing on my sister.

A wave of nausea sweeps through me.

“Worried about me, wife?” Henry’s teasing voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Of course not. Rafe is not the creative type, and you’re indestructible. I’m only worried about myself and my utter lack of imagination. I’m so disappointed I haven’t found a way to take you out yet.”

He laughs, and the sound warms me.

When we finally reach the gates of Carrenwell House, I expect to feel relieved to be home, but I still feel like a tightly wound ball of stress. Leaving did not, in fact, make this house feel like a home. It still feels like a museum where my behavior needs to be as curated as the art on the walls. After acting like a wild woman in Mountain Haven for a few days, I’m not as anxious to walk these familiar halls again.

Gaven busies himself speaking with the stable hands tending to our horse, but I feel his eyes on me as I smooth Henry’s coat and fluff my windswept hair.

My parents’ carriage pulls through the gates as we’re dismounting. Able hops out first, gives me and Henry a withering sneer, and then storms into the house, slamming the door behind him. He’s devolved into a forty-five-year-old toddler.

My father helps my mother down from the carriage and they turn their assessing gazes on us. I wonder what they’re looking for. I make sure to take slow, deliberate breaths to smooth my feelings into a blank canvas so that my aura will stay steady.

“Congratulations on your nuptials. We wish you were back under better circumstances, and we weren’t counting on seeing you so soon, but we’re happy to see Harlow looking so well,” my mother says with the imitation of a warm smile. “Doesn’t she look vital, Harrick?”

Vital. I wince. She means I look terrible, which I probably do. I went straight from my run and only changed into riding clothes before we took off for the city.

“Marriage suits you, Harlow,” my father says. “I’ll leave your mother to get you settled, but we would love to hear about the wedding. Join us for dinner.”

He doesn’t wait for me to answer. He turns and walks into the house as if my agreement is a certainty.

My mother smiles, like that alone can balance out my father’s rudeness. “We’ll make the most of this unexpected visit. We’ll catch up tonight, and tomorrow, we’ll invite the high houses for a post-wedding reception. Nothing fancy. Just allow everyone to get to really meet you and your new husband—since the engagement dinner was interrupted.”

“That sounds good. Henry has to pick up medicine from a healer in the northwest quadrant of the city for someone back at the fort, so he won’t be able to join us tonight,” I say.

My mother’s face brightens. “Of course. Perhaps he could also stop at North Hold and extend the invite to the mayor on our behalf.”

I bite back a smile. She asked Henry to do it so she doesn’t have to deal with Rafe, but now he has an officially sanctioned reason to go there.

“I would be happy to,” Henry says.

My mother clasps her hands together and gestures for us to follow her up the stairs.

Inside the dark foyer, servants help my mother out of her coat and stand awkwardly by, unsure how to help me and Henry since we brought so little with us.

My mother smooths her hair. “We’ll have rooms made up for you⁠—”

“I’ll stay in Harlow’s rooms, thank you,” Henry says. “Customary for newlyweds to spend their nights together at the fort.” He squeezes my side and smiles indulgently down at me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can read my mother’s immense displeasure, and it makes me smirk back up at him. She abhors the rudeness of his interruption, and she hates it more that he’s commanding her in her home. But he’s a man and my husband, and this is what she signed up for—what she has never pushed back against.

He leans in like he’s going to kiss me, and my lips tingle with the rush of poison. Instead, he brushes a soft kiss to my cheek. When he pulls back, his eyes drop to my dark lips.

“Expecting something, lovely?”

I hate that I have a tell.

Part of me wanted him to kiss me just to see the complete shock on my mother’s face when he didn’t immediately die. But if she and my father find out now, they will find a way to call this whole thing off. They’ll pull me out because they’re counting on my magic to get me out in a pinch. While I’m very aware that I’m expendable to them, they don’t like to waste resources.

“I’ll be back soon. Enjoy your family time,” Henry says. He hands his small saddlebag to the servant beside us and nods to my mother before ducking out the front door.

My mother’s face instantly melts into a scowl. “At least he has some manners.” She wrinkles her nose when she looks at me. “Go wash up and change and meet us in the dining room. We have much to discuss.”

I don’t need to be told twice. I race up the stairs, eager to wear something that Henry hasn’t picked for me for the first time this week.

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