Sin Eater's Daughter 2 - The Sleeping Prince (13 page)

“And if the golems are still out there and you lead them back to her? Think, Errin. She’s as safe as she can be there. It’ll be dawn in a couple of hours. Wait it out. For all our sakes.”

I sink back down into his blankets and hug my knees. I know he’s right. While it’s dark it’s too dangerous; twice the golems almost caught me. If I lead them to her, or to him, then it’s all been for nothing.

He looks over at me, his expression watchful, his posture tense and ready to move. His scrutiny makes me blush again. I wish I could stop throwing myself at him; how many times does he have to push me away before I get it?

“I’m sorry, about…” I lower my head. “I’m sorry. I know you can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Errin,” he says softly, and I look up at him. “If I could, I would. For what it’s worth.” He smiles sadly, and I see the dimples in his left cheek for a brief moment. “If it were different… If I were different. I wish I’d been honest with you from the beginning,” he continues. “I wish I could have told you, then perhaps… I thought we could be friends. I thought it would be enough.”

“It is,” I say. “It has been. I’m just…” I tail off, not knowing what I am. “Are we… Can we still be friends, do you think? After this?”

“Gods, I hope so,” he says in a rush of breath, his eyes blazing into mine before he looks away. “I’d be very sorry to lose you now,” he adds, his voice so quiet I have to strain to hear him.

I make a decision. “She’s in Scarron,” I say before I can change my mind. “The girl. Ely said she was in Scarron.”

Silas’s mouth falls open. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He moves across the room and presses his lips to my forehead like a benediction, his kiss searing my skin. “I’ll send a message to the Conclave first thing, telling them to expect us. I’ll tell them to ensure your mother’s release and I’ll take you both to the Conclave myself, then go to Scarron.”

“I could come with you, to Scarron.”

“No, thank you. It’s best if I go alone. I don’t know if she’s expecting us.”

“Why didn’t you know where she was?” I ask. “If she’s so important to your people, how did you come to lose her?”

“She didn’t live with the Sisters.”

“Why?”

“Bad blood,” he says, after a long moment. “It’s complicated. We can talk when I get back.”

Though I don’t like it, I nod. There will be plenty of time, I suppose. And if I’m in the Conclave, he won’t be able to keep much from me.

“Thank you,” he says softly. “You don’t know what you’ve done.”

I feel proud of myself for the first time in a long time.

After that, there is nothing more to say. We sit in silence, though a more companionable one, both of us listening to the sounds of the night, and eventually he drifts off to sleep, his breathing slowing, deepening. I follow his lead, and eventually I sleep, dreamlessly, for the first time in moons.

When I wake the sun is already up, the light milky and pale as it streams through the slats in the window. “Oh Gods, Mama,” I say, scrambling to my feet. “I slept too long.”

Silas sits up, alert immediately. “Go. Give me an hour to get a message off to the Conclave and then I’ll come and bury Ely. In the meantime you should pack. We’ll leave as soon as everything is ready. We’ll have to walk, unless I can steal some horses. Can your mother manage it?”

“No. Not walking.” I peek between the slats to check the coast is clear. “She’s too weak. If you can get a horse or something for her. I can walk. But she won’t make it.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

I smile back at him. “An hour, then?”

He nods.

There is a bite in the air, the promise of winter on it as I creep home, still feeling hopeful. I try to imagine what the Conclave might be like, where it might be. Somewhere hidden, perhaps in the north. After talking about Scarron I hope the Conclave is by the sea. I let my memory fill with the scent of seaweed and brine that I know from the northern town. I could be happy by the sea, if I could find a way to complete my apprenticeship. I could act as apothecary to them, maybe even teach them some things, to thank them for their aid. I could help them, if they’d let me.

My hopeful state is tainted a little as I approach my cottage, the woods behind it looking less friendly to me now, even in the daylight. I remember the golem, the thud of its footsteps behind me, the way it reached for me. I quicken my pace towards the cottage, anxious to be inside.

But as I reach for the latch, the door opens and Kirin is there in his uniform, his mouth a grim line of bad tidings.

“Errin, thank the Gods—” He tries to speak but I shove past him, bursting into the cottage, stopping dead when I see the captain in his red sash and Chanse Unwin standing over Ely, now uncovered and unmistakably dead. The table is still strewn with my apothecary work, my diary, open on the page that details all of the potions I’ve made. All of the poisons I’ve made. The box that contains my remedies is revealed, the labels on show:
nightshade
,
hemlock
,
wolfsbane
,
oleander
. The vial of Elixir is in the middle of the table.

I look at them, at the questions on the captain’s face, at the smirk on Unwin’s. Then I look at the door of my mother’s room. Open.

“Errin,” Kirin calls again as I run to her room.

“She’s gone,” Unwin says behind me.

I whirl around.

“I evacuated her to a facility in Tressalyn.” He pauses and grins. “A specialist one. For madwomen.”

“No.” I lunge at him but Kirin appears from nowhere, catching me around the waist and saving Unwin from my attack. “Where is she?” I scream from behind Kirin.

“Madness seems to run in the family,” Unwin sneers.

Kirin bundles me into the room and closes the door. Through it I hear him speak to Unwin.

“Leave.” His voice sounds cold.

“This is my house,” Unwin snarls, but whatever Kirin does stops him from saying anything else.

“The village has been requisitioned by the army,” another voice, presumably the captain, says calmly. “You’re here at our grace now. And it might be best if you leave.”

“No chance,” Unwin replies. “I want to know how long she’s been keeping a madwoman locked up. Look at this. A body on the floor, poison on the table. She’s a criminal and I’m the Justice here. You hand her over to my custody.”

“That will be all, Unwin,” the captain says, and I hear the sounds of a scuffle. When the front door closes, I step back from the bedroom door and wait.

Kirin opens it. I walk out, slowly, expecting to face the captain, but he’s gone, and I turn to Kirin. His face is pale, sweat on his brow, and he’s leaning to the right. I’d forgotten about his wound. He must have wrenched it when he stopped me from getting to Unwin.

“Are you all right?” I ask. “You should be resting; you were shot a few days ago.”

“Never mind me. What have you got yourself into?” he asks quietly.

“Where’s my mother?”

“He had soldiers take her before we arrived.”

“And you let him?” I scream.

“Where were you?” Kirin shouts right back at me. “Where were you last night?”

“Please tell me where she is,” I beg.

“What’s wrong with her anyway?” Kirin continues. “They found her locked in her room this morning. She looked close to death. She didn’t even flinch when they lifted her out of bed. Is that you? Are you drugging your own mother?”

My hand rises to my mouth and I sink to my knees. I imagine soldiers here, taking her out of bed in her tatty nightgown, looking at her gaunt body, her vacant eyes. Oh Gods.

“Why were you here?”

“Unwin reported it. Said he’d told the occupants to evacuate with the others and he thought refugees might have broken in. If I’d known it was you … I sent some of the lads here with him. By the time I came to check myself, it was too late. They’d taken your mother and found … everything.”

I bury my face in my hands. No. Oh please no.

Kirin pulls my fingers away, forcing me to look at him. “Errin, you can either talk, or I’ll have to arrest you myself. There’s enough evidence on the table to see you hanged, even without the body. Talk.”

I struggle out of his grip and walk back into my mother’s room, sitting on the end of her bed. He follows, remaining in the doorway.

“After we realized Lief must be trapped in Lormere, she … she shut down. She wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t clean herself, wouldn’t go to the privy. I had to do everything for her. We had no money, Kirin. I had to get it somehow. I started making potions to sell, to pay the rent and buy food. It was the only way. And I … sedate her, sometimes. Something happened to her, in the woods. It changed her.” Once I start speaking I find I can’t stop. “I tried to cure it; then I tried to treat it. Nothing worked, and it made her angry and dangerous. She attacked me.” I open my mouth and show him my tooth. “That was her. And there was more. Kirin, you have to tell me where she is. If they don’t take proper care of her, she’ll attack them too.”

He shakes his head.

“She’s like the Scarlet Varulv,” I blurt. “She’ll hurt people. She’ll pass it on if I’m not there to treat her.”

“Errin, this isn’t funny.”

“It’s the truth.”

He looks at the table, at the mess still there where I tried to deconstruct the Elixir, then back to me, shaking his head, his eyes full of sorrow. “Errin. I had no idea it was this bad.”

“I know, but I can control it. We have somewhere to go, with people who can help her. So tell me where she is and—” “Stop,” he says. “It’s over. She’s safe now. And you’ll be safe too.”

“What?” I still. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll be taken care of. You shouldn’t have been left alone. But we’ll take care of you now. I’ll make sure of it.”

I stare at him. “I don’t need taking care of. I’ve found us a new home. And we’ll be safer there than anywhere, trust me.”

“Errin, you need help. Both of you.”

“I’m not mad. Kirin, look at her arms. There are scars there. It happened. It’s real. You have to believe me.”

But he doesn’t. It’s written all over him, the way his eyebrows are furrowed, the sad twist to his mouth.

“Errin, I need you to listen to me. I’m going to take care of you. There will be questions – serious questions – because of some of the things you have here. And the fact there was a body. But anyone can see you didn’t hurt him, couldn’t have hurt him like that. I’ll speak for you, and I’ll write to Master Pendie to ask him to attest to your character. We’ll explain about your father, and about Lief. And that you’ve been here, alone, with your mother, these last four moons with no money. It’d be enough to send anyone a little mad. But you mustn’t say things like that, especially now, given the Sleeping Prince. You’ll be in real trouble. Let me handle it, all right? I’ll sort it out. It will be fine.”

It breaks my heart, his words, the kindness, the worry in them and his tone; to have him act like the brother I’m missing. But he doesn’t understand. I need to get to Silas. He’ll know what to do; his people will have ways to help. They’re powerful. They’ll be able to help me get my mother back. And once we’re in the Conclave it won’t matter about the log book, or poor Ely. We’ll be hidden from everyone.

I look at Kirin and nod my head, making myself look small and sorry. He smiles at me gently, and walks across the room to sit beside me on the thin pallet. He puts a brotherly arm around me and I lean into him briefly.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m sorry I’ve let you down.”

“Don’t—” he begins. Then I elbow him in the stomach and run. I slam the door behind me and turn the key in the lock. I’m at the front door before he starts banging, across the threshold and racing through the village. I hear the shouts of soldiers behind me as I dash towards Silas’s hut, but I don’t stop, speeding past every hut and cottage until I get to his.

“Silas!” I call, throwing the door wide. “Si—”

No more than half an hour can have passed since I left him. He said he’d come to me in an hour. There had been a nest of blankets on the floor. But now there is nothing. Not even an old candle stub. The hut is completely empty; it’s as if he was never here. It’s all right, I remind myself as fear makes my stomach clench; he must have packed and taken his things with him, to send the message. He’s probably on his way to meet me—

“Oh, Errin,” a voice says slowly, dripping with triumph. I spin and find myself face to face with Chanse Unwin.

“I knew you’d come back here, if that wet behind the ears boy soldier gave you half a chance,” he says, standing in the doorway, blocking the exit. “He’s gone, your lover. I saw him after I left you. Heading out towards the Long Road. Did he not say goodbye?”

No. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do that. He said we were friends. He said we were more.

You don’t know what you’ve done
, he said.

Yes, I do. I let him trick me. Because he pretended to like me. I never knew him at all. Gods, he spent moons lying to me, hiding himself from me. Using me.

I am a fool.

I lean against the wall, using it to hold me up as my insides shred themselves. I have to bend, the ache behind my ribs blossoming, filling me, crushing my lungs and making it impossible to breathe. What am I going to do? They’ve taken Mama, and I … I need him. How could he do this?

In the doorway, Unwin laughs. “You must think I was born yesterday,” he says, resting against the door frame. “I know every inch of this village. My village. Do you think I didn’t know he was squatting in here, like a beast? Do you think it went unnoticed? I knew. I was biding my time.”

My eyes narrow. I don’t believe him, and my left eyebrow creeps up to let him know it.

“You wouldn’t understand my reasons,” he roars, his face turning purple. “You don’t understand anything, you stupid girl. I was
kind
to you. I looked out for you. I would have taken care of you. But no. I’m not good enough for you. Little Miss High and Mighty from Tremayne.” His head tilts as he examines me and my jaw tightens in anger. “Look at you,” he continues. “You’re not even that pretty.”

“If you lay a hand on me—”

“Ha!” He cuts me off with a bark of laughter. “I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire. Not now. Not now I know you’re soiled goods. I told you, I saw it. Last night. You and him, cavorting around the village. Him with no shirt on, chasing you into the bushes. Then you outside my house, helping him cover himself up. I’m not surprised he left. Why keep the cow once you’ve drunk your fill of the milk?”

The candle in the window of the House of Justice. He was awake, and watching. But he didn’t see the golems, I realize. Then he steps towards me, and I move back instinctively. “I don’t care what you saw,” I say.

He smirks. “I thought about offering to be your guardian, you know. Making you my ward. Thought how fitting it would be to have you scrubbing my floors.”

“I’d die before I let that happen.”

“And so you shall,” he says. “As I said earlier, Errin, a dead body, a box of poisons. A nice, neat diary telling the world what you made, and who you made it for. I’ll see you swing, and your precious Silas too, once we catch up to him.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but my blood runs even colder.

“I just hope they let me kick the stool out from under you.”

I turn around and punch him, clean in the face, my thumb tucked over my fingers, like Papa taught me. I feel the crunch of his nose shattering under my fist and instantly pain radiates through my hand, along my lower arm, as the skin on my knuckles splits. Cradling the damaged hand in my other, I bite down on my tongue to stop myself from crying out. Unwin is trying to staunch the flow of blood from his nose, and I watch, waiting for him to look at me. When he does I step towards him and he flinches.