A Time of Darkness (The Circle of Talia) (17 page)

Bronwyn listened in between the rhythmic splash of the oars, to Blayke and Corrille talking in the boat in front. It seemed they were getting along very well,
too
well. Blayke spoke to her friend more than he spoke to her, his own twin sister! When Bronwyn had tried to get into the boat with Blayke, Corrille had touched Bronwyn’s arm and said, “I hope you don’t mind if I go with Blayke. I just feel so much safer next to him.”

At which point, she’d looked up through her lashes at him and giggled. His response was a stupid grin that Bronwyn wanted to rip off his face and beat him over the head with. In the end she had quietly retreated and joined Avruellen and Sinjenasta.

Why don’t you trust her
? Sinjenasta interrupted Bronwyn’s thoughts.

I do trust her
.

Hmm, if you say so; I know Avruellen doesn’t.

Avruellen looked at Bronwyn, gauging how much to say.
He’s right, Bronny. I know she’s your friend, but there’s something about her
.

Bronwyn thought about it and rel
uctantly came to a conclusion.
I love her; she’s always been my best friend, but since she’s joined us again, I don’t trust her. Maybe it’s because I’m jealous of the time she’s spending with Blayke. I feel left out. They’re so goggle-eyed at each other; it’s pathetic.

I think it’s more than that
, said Sinjenasta.
I think you’re growing up and seeing some things for the first time. If there’s one thing I know from being a panther, it’s to always trust your instincts.

He’s right, Bronny. Some truths are hard to accept. Who knows? Maybe you’ll work things out with her
.

Mmm. Maybe
. Bronwyn rested her hand on Sinjenasta’s back and absently stroked his fur. His hearty purr made her feel a bit better.
At least you love me
.

Sinjenasta purred louder.

The boats crunched into the sand, and they stepped out. A dark shadow waited on the beach. They reached the robed man, and Arcon, with Phantom perched importantly on his shoulder, inclined his head. “Good evening. I’m Arcon of The Circle. We’ve come in search of a certain book, which I’m told can be found in your library.”

The disciple of the Sacred Realm—the realm said to be the home of all the gods—bowed. “Welcome to you, Realmist. We have waited many years for your arrival. Please follow me.” Surprised at the ease with which they were accepted, Arcon and Avruellen breathed relieved sighs.

As they made their way to the monastery, Sinjenasta spoke to Fang.
How goes it, my little friend
?

Fang, surprised at the sudden attention from the usually aloof panther, nervously cleaned his whiskers as he peeked out of Blayke’s bobbing pocket. He looked across at Sinjenasta
who walked a few feet behind.
I’m well, thank you, Sinjenasta. To what do I owe the pleasure of this conversation
?

I wanted to get your opinion on something
.

Yes
?

What do you think about Blayke’s new girlfriend
?

Fang paused, wondering how much he should tell the panther and if there was any way he could use the information against him later. He decided it would be safe to confide—they wer
e on the same side, after all.
She’s certainly smitten with him, and I think the feeling is mutual
….

But
?

But, there’s something I don’t trust
.

That’s the general consensus with everyone else. I think Blayke’s the only one who can’t see it. Have you seen anything in particular
?

Not really, but I’ll keep my eyes out. I’m glad it’s not just me. I don’t think it’s wise to say anything to Blayke just yet—he wouldn’t believe us without proof
.

No, of course not
.

Flux interrupted,
Sorry to butt in, but I’ll give you my two whiskers’ worth. I think she’s a bit silly, but Avruellen hates her
.

Hates is a strong word, but I haven’t known Avruellen to overreact about anything
, mused Sinje.

Ha, you should see her when people don’t do what she says
. Flux joked, and the creaturas laughed.

Fang looked at Avruellen, knowing she couldn’t
hear, but worried nonetheless.
Okay then. I’ll let you know as soon as I find out anything
.

He turned around to see they were almost at the entrance of a sprawling, squat complex that glowed white, even in the dim light. Several domes roofed the attached buildings, and timber shutters stood open at the many square windows, allowing the cool night air inside.

They entered a stone-paved courtyard through a creaking timber door, crossed the expanse, and entered another door that opened into a low-ceilinged foyer that barely held the large party. A woman waited. Standing taller than even Blayke, a brown robe covered her thin frame, and her white hair was twisted into a bun on the crown of her head. Their guide placed his hands together in front of his chin and dipped his torso in a slight bow. “Thank you, Steen. Please see that their rooms are ready.” She turned to Arcon and Avruellen. “Welcome to our cloister. My name is Fiora. We’ve been expecting you.”

“That’s good to hear. I’m Avruellen, and this is Arcon.” Avruellen gestured towards her brother. “Would I be able to bother you for a cup of tea?” Arcon looked at Avruellen as if she’d asked for a bucket of slops to be poured on her head. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, old man! Discussions are always more palatable when enacted over a cup of tea and a biscuit; isn’t that right, Bronwyn?”

Bronwyn nodded, remembering the last time she had eaten Avruellen’s biscuits—the day they had left home. She sighed.

“Indeed, Avruellen. I’m sure the table has already been set for you to break your fast. Dawn is approaching. Please follow me.” Her smile was warm, and Bronwyn admired her elegant movements as she glided out of the room.

They were shown to a modest dining room with two plain timber tables. Upon closer inspection, the low-backed chairs were speckled with signs of age: nicks and small flecks of different colored paints. Blayke noticed a subtle scent of musk under the stronger tang of the ocean. When they sat, Corrille sat next to him. He got a tingly feeling in his stomach when her arm brushed his. She edged her chair even closer, and he felt her hand rest on his leg. When he raised an eyebrow at her, she giggled. He shook his head and whispered in her ear, “You're going to get me into trouble.”

“No one can see. Stop being such a spoilsport.”

“I just feel uncomfortable. It’s okay when we’re alone, but not in front of everyone. Please?” She frowned but took her hand away. “Thank you.”

Ever since he had rescued her and Bronwyn, she hadn’t left his side. He liked how it felt to hold her small hand in his and although he had kissed a girl before, this was different—his heart raced and he felt like he was losing control. He’d had to go to the deck more than once for fresh air. He wondered if this is what it felt like to fall in love. Suddenly he wished her hand was still on his thigh.

A rattling of plates preceded the smell of bacon as two young, robed men entered with trays of food. Blayke saw Corrille smile at one of them. The black-haired acolyte blushed, and Blayke felt jealousy squash a heavy hand around the butterflies that had been playing in his stomach.

Bronwyn, sitting across from them, watched with interest. She’d been busy admiring the dark-haired serving boy, thinking how vivid his blue eyes
were, but when he had finally noticed Bronwyn, Corrille turned her attention on him. Bronwyn spoke into Sinjenasta’s mind,
What is she playing at? Isn’t one man enough
?

What are you talking about
? He and Flux sat on the floor behind Bronwyn, waiting for their food.

Corrille. She’s all over Blayke but now she has eyes for that other guy
. Bronwyn folded her arms, wondering if Corrille was doing it just to annoy her, or if she was just desperate for everyone’s attention. Corrille had suffered an awful childhood, but Bronwyn had always been nice to her and didn’t deserve to be treated this way.
Is this how all friends behave?

No, certainly not. I would tell you you’re better off without her, but you probably won’t listen
.

But she’s my friend; we’ve always done everything together. She’s just upset because of everything that’s been happening. I bet she’ll go back to normal soon
. Bronwyn spooned grilled tomatoes onto her plate.

If you say so, but I seem to recall having this conversation already. Now, where’s my breakfast? I’m starving
. Sinjenasta twitched his whiskers and sniffed the air.

The lad in question walked to Bronwyn’s side of the table and offered her a plate with just-baked bread. The realmist took a piece and smiled, staring into his eyes: she knew it wasn’t polite, but she couldn’t help it. Shyly, she said, “Thank you.”

His answering grin made her want to melt under the table. “My pleasure.”

Suddenly she wasn’t hungry. Her gaze accidentally met Corrille’s over the expanse of the food-laden table, and her smile vanished: Corrille’s eyes smoldered with hate. Blayke broke the spell by asking her a question, and Bronwyn had no doubt he remained oblivious to what
had just happened. She hoped her brother wasn’t lost to her; they had only just started to know each other, and family was something she had craved her whole life.

Bronwyn spoke to Sinjenasta, who was noisily
tearing through two chickens.
This is all my fault. If I hadn’t run off and been kidnapped, Corrille wouldn’t be here now.

Don’t be like that, cub. She’s not that bad. You can’t be serious that you’d rather she was fed to the gormon
?

No, I suppose not
. She reddened and looked at her plate, realizing how ridiculous she sounded.

Now, do you mind? I’m trying to eat
.

Bronwyn turned to look at him. Sinjenasta did his best
let me eat or you’ll regret it
look, but Bronwyn burst out laughing.

What’s so funny
?

You have feathers on your nose. You are such a messy eater
. Sinjenasta pawed at his nose in an attempt to dislodge the offending plumage. Bronwyn was sure if a panther could blush, he would have. He turned his back to her, and she heard a bone snap as he chomped down with purpose.

Arcon set his knife and fork down. “I think we’ll need all hands on deck today. We have to find this book in a hurry and as much as I’d like to think we will, knowing our luck, we probably won’t. No one knows the full name of the book, but we do know one word:
almanac
.”

“One word?” asked Bronwyn.

“Yes, my dear,” answered Avruellen. “Why do you think I’ve been trying to get you to learn patience all these years? I’ve found nothing worth doing is easy.” Avruellen looked at Corrille. “And I think while we’re searching, Corrille can help our hosts since we’re a bit of a drain on their resources.” Bronwyn suppressed a smile at Corrille’s scowl—Corrille had been openly unfriendly to Avruellen since her return and wasn’t about to start being subtle now. Blayke noticed his sister’s reaction.

When they reached the library, Blayke, with Fang cozily ensconced in his pocket, spoke to his sister. “What was that smile about at breakfast?”

She looked at him. “What smile?”

“When Arcon said Corrille couldn’t help us. Well?” His cranky expression was one Bronwyn had never seen.

“You really want to know?” He nodded. “Okay then. Ever since you and Corrille met, I’ve hardly spoken to you. She’s always practically in your lap, and neither of you include me in anything. Is it wrong for me to want some time with my brother? We’ve practically only just met, and already I feel like you don’t care. Didn’t you ever want a brother or sister? I know I did.”

“She’s not practically in my lap.”

Bronwyn raised an eyebrow, and Blayke was reminded of Avruellen. Blayke’s cheeks and neck heated to red. “It’s not my fault she’s like that. Anyway, I like her; she’s nice. I also feel sorry for her; she told me your aunt picked on her.”

“She’s your aunt too, and yes, they didn’t get along, but it wasn’t
all
Avruellen’s fault. Look, I’m just asking to be included. Do you want me to be your sister or not?”

“Of course I do. I’m just used to being by myself. What do brothers and sisters do, anyway?”

“I’ll tell you what they do,” interrupted Arcon. “They argue, fight, and sometimes be nice to each other—and they stick together. The other thing they do is what their superiors ask them to.” The young realmists rolled their eyes. “Well, there’s something you two have in common. Now off you go. Blayke, you start in that corner, and Bronwyn, in that one.” Arcon pointed to their respective corners. “When you find something that looks like it could be the book, add it to my pile over there.” He nodded at a long, polished wooden table, which sat next to a thick support pillar in the middle of the room. Bronwyn looked up the length of the pillar to the high ceilings lined with dark, stately beams. She breathed in air that encompassed the slow decay of thousands of leather-bound books and wished that was enough to gain knowledge.