Wolfsbane Winter (10 page)

“But you have, haven’t you? What’s going to happen to her now?” The anger inside Reyna burned hotter than Alana would have imagined possible for her placid lover.

“Yes. That is the question. What next for Alana?”

“The talisman you’ve given her, she can keep it?” Lady Kyra was a complex knot of ambition, anxiety, and hope.

“Oh yes, of course. In fact, I insist that she does. She must have it with her at all times, but I fear it can do no more than take the edge off what she is experiencing. The potion I have given her will also help, but it is not safe, and should not be taken over a lengthy period of time. I fear this means she will not be able to continue her life in Ellaye.”

Although his tone was somber, Orrin was filled to the brim with satisfaction. He took a moment to gather himself for his prepared speech and then let go of Alana’s hand and moved away. “As I have said, your daughter is a very powerful empath.”

“She can read minds?”

“In a way, although what she senses are basic emotions rather than exact thoughts, and it is the unfiltered nature of her talent that is the problem. I was right about the barriers she had raised around herself, blocking her talent. But what I had not realized was she’d built them for her own protection.”

“Why? When?”

“As for why? Imagine what it must be like, to be bombarded by the raw emotions from everyone around you, without respite. I suspect she started shutting everyone else out when she was still a baby. An instinctive response. She probably never knew what she was doing.”

“You said she had to leave Ellaye. Why? Surely she can rebuild her barriers.”

“Maybe, given time.” This was not the way Orrin’s hopes were leaning, of that, Alana was certain. “But it won’t happen quickly, and she’ll need the right environment.”

“What sort of environment?”

“Peace and as few people around as possible. That’s why she has to get away from Ellaye.” This was what Orrin was so happy about. “The farther she can be from towns, the better it will be for her.”

“You want her to go live in the wastelands?” Fear shot through Reyna’s outrage.

“Oh no. It needn’t be than extreme. A small hamlet, on the edges of Galvonia, but still under the protection of the King’s Marshals. I am sure somewhere suitable can be found.”

“Would somewhere like that be able to support a proper household for her?”

“Alana won’t be able to have a household.”

“She’ll need bodyguards and servants.”

“Anyone who can project emotions will put a strain on her, and even the dullest of commoners can do that. Maybe she could have one companion, but anything more she would not be able to bear.”

“But she can’t go on her own. Her life will be in danger. We all know how the commoners view us.”

“Does it matter? Sounds like there won’t be enough people around to form a lynch mob.” Her mother was bitterly cynical.

Orrin’s voice was a plea for calm. “The local inhabitants need not know of her heritage. She can pass among them as one of their own. She need not be at risk.”

The irony was not lost on Alana.
Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.

For the first time, Alana’s father spoke. “Commoners! You expect my daughter to go and live among the commoners, in some impoverished farming village, without a single servant or any of the trappings she’s used to? You’re suggesting she can live in squalor, like a peasant?”

“I’m afraid there’s no other option. If she stays here, she’ll be driven mad.”

“The life of a peasant is not fitting for my daughter.”

“It needn’t be forever. With just a few people around, Alana might be able to regain control of her talent. If she could learn to manipulate the new barriers, so she can be selective in whose emotions she taps, why…” Orrin paused dramatically, as if a new idea had just struck him. “Can you see how valuable she could be to the king? She would be able to return to the court as one of his most senior advisers. It would be a great day, for Galvonia and the Quintanilla family.”

Alana did not need to feel the sudden spark of excitement to know, with that one sentence, the argument was won. Her parents’ ambition was so easy to ignite. Fighting it was not worth the effort. She closed her eyes and let drowsiness reclaim her.

*

When Alana next awoke, night had fallen. Moonlight poured through the open window. The city was silent, its inhabitants asleep. The absence of emotional clamor was enough for Alana to think clearly, or as clearly as Orrin’s drugs would allow. Alana was sure that she had been given more of whatever the second potion had been. Her body was numb and would not obey her. When she tried to move, her head fell to one side. She saw Reyna, slumped in a chair beside her bed.

“Uhh.” Alana’s throat was too dry for talking, even if she could control her tongue.

Reyna shook herself and sat up. “How are you, darling?”

“Wa’er.” Alana pointed weakly at the jug on the dresser.

Reyna poured a glass and then helped Alana into a sitting position. The cold liquid was a blessed relief, although much of the water spilled from her slack lips and trickled down her chin. What was Orrin dosing her with?

“Thangs. What waz…” Wheezing stopped Alana from saying more.

“Don’t try to speak. Orrin has got you pretty heavily drugged.”

This much Alana already knew.

“It’s to help you.”

Considerate of him.

“You don’t need to worry. It’s all been sorted out. I’m taking you away from Ellaye tomorrow. I know where we’re going, far to the north, a small valley. I’m going to stay there with you until you’ve worked out how to control your talent.”

With the city hushed, picking out a single thread of emotion was easier. Fear and uncertainty were battling inside Reyna, fueled by a warm core of affection. Alana paused in doubt. Or were the fear and affection her own? The drug-induced blurring made it impossible to be certain, although the potion was affecting her body more than her mind.

“Orrin has said we need to leave as soon as possible.”

And he wanted his victim unable to speak coherently until she was away from Ellaye. Yet, even if Alana could talk, what could she say? Orrin had promised to remove her mental barriers, and that was what he had done. He claimed he had not known how it would affect her. The only proof that he was lying came from this new wild talent of hers. If she challenged him, it would be the word of a nobody, manifestly suffering from devastating mental problems, against the king’s high counselor. Alana did not rate her chances of winning the argument.

Plus, he had done what he could to alleviate the symptoms. The silver talisman hung on a cord around her neck. She must have grabbed hold of it subconsciously, in her sleep. Her fingers tightened, clinging to it like a lifeline. She could feel the protective sphere it cast around her. Clearly, it was some demon device from the Age of Chaos.

So why had Orrin done it, harmed then healed her? Alana suspected she would never get a full answer, but she could guess. Orrin’s goal appeared to be removing her from Ellaye. Since she had been an untalented nonentity before, either it was part of a complex strategy to undermine the Quintanilla family, or Orrin had been worried that some day, she might spontaneously take control of her talent and become a power in her own right.

The high counselor was ambitious, and his plans demanded that he kept the king’s ear. Orrin had said they were kindred talents. Had he been concerned at the possibility of her becoming a rival, and so had removed her from the game before she became a threat? If so, it was a bitter irony. Had he asked, Alana would have told him that she had no ambition whatsoever to play games at court. He could keep the king’s ear—both of them, and his nose as well, for all she cared.

“Orrin—” Alana managed to choke out the name.

Reyna did not give her the chance to finish. “Yes. He’s given me instructions on how to take care of you. And I will. I won’t leave you. I promise.”

Discomfort now blended with the affection, tainting and weakening it. Was Reyna unsure of her ability to fulfill that promise?

“I love you.”

Yet the affection ebbed still further as Reyna took Alana’s hand and squeezed it.

“I’m going to do everything I can so you learn how to cope with crowds again and we can come back to Ellaye. Maybe we’ll only be gone for a few months. I’m sure it won’t be long. And we’ll be together, so it…”

A stream of emotions rippled through Reyna as she spoke, a weak flare of hope mingled with sexual desire, squashed by misery. Guilt that threatened to tip into resentment, if it were not for the counterbalance of affection. Alana could read it so easily.

Reyna did not want to go, would rather stay in Ellaye, yet was feeling compelled. It was all so obvious, exactly what Alana would have expected, except for the desire. Reyna’s affection had been for her, but the desire had not. It had flared at the thought of returning to Ellaye, and it had been extinguished as the resentment grew. In going away from court, Reyna was leaving a lover, or someone she hoped would become a lover—but who?

Alana closed her eyes, willing sleep to return, willing the stream of information to stop. She told herself that she could put no faith in what she thought she was picking up. She refused to put any faith in it. Not only was she drugged to the point of stupor, but this new sense was untried and unfamiliar. Yet she could not block out her thoughts.

Who was Reyna hoping to see when she came back to Ellaye?

For the last few miles of the journey, the track left the riverbank and passed through dense forest. Tall pines overhung the rutted dirt road. The route climbed steadily, crossing the southern slopes of Beck Hill and cutting off a wide loop in the course of the Oakan River. The roar of the water faded away behind, replaced by the trill of birdsong.

Off to one side, Deryn spotted a flash of white rumps as deer fled deeper into the forest. The animals vanished amid the wilting yellow undergrowth. Summer was gone and the ferns were dying back. Another month or two, and there would be nothing except snow and the occasional outline of an ancient ruin beneath the pines. The road turned a bend, zigzagging on the final, steeper section of the ascent. Up ahead, a patch of sky peeked between the tree trunks.

At the crest of the hill, Deryn pulled on Tia’s reins, bringing the mare to a standstill so the rest of the team could catch up. As scout for the party, her position out in front was traditional, even though nobody could possibly get lost, this close to home. While waiting, Deryn took in the view.

A ring of mountains surrounded the broad valley below. The white-capped peaks were stark against dark clouds that threatened rain. Tallest of all, Mount Oakan filled the skyline to the northeast. The river looped back into sight and meandered away, a gray band under a grayer sky.

The forest ended in a ragged line where farms cut patchwork strips between the blue-green pines. Twisted strings of smoke marked the location of farmhouses and herds of sheep and cattle grazed in fields. In the middle of the valley, the farms were tightly packed together, squeezing out the pines. In the center of it all, the town of Oakan squatted by the banks of the river. The dense jumble was so compact that the buildings appeared to be crawling over each other.

The town was too distant to make out details, but from experience, Deryn knew it was hastily tacked together and poorly maintained. Each year, the heavy winter snows took their toll. The roads were potholed and the timber-framed houses were warped and weather beaten. The settlement had grown in the wilderness, without any sort of overall plan or vision, as each new arrival had tacked on whatever construction best fit their needs and pocket. Most of the building material had come from the surrounding forest, supplemented by anything usable that could be scavenged from the ruins of Old Oakan. The clumsy blend of rough-cut timber and ancient masonry made Oakan an ugly mess of a town. Yet as ever, on her return from the wastelands, it was the most welcoming sight that Deryn could imagine.

Oakan marked the beginning and end of the Misery Trail. It provided a base for the Iron Wolves and also a hub for the miners who prospected in the mountains to the south and east. Both groups were happy to take advantage of the town’s position on the borders of civilization, where the King’s Law was interpreted a little more liberally than in the heartland of Galvonia. Oakan’s streets held more taverns than tailors, more casinos than carpenters, and more brothels than bakers.

The depravity of Oakan was notorious and the staid farmers and tradesfolk of the region might have preferred a quieter life, were it not for the profit to be made from a stream of customers on their doorstep who were willing to pay over the odds for supplies. The King’s Marshals were the only ones who actively objected to the loose morals and tried to keep a lid on the revelers’ high spirits, but they were spread too thinly on the frontier to do more than make the occasional firm gesture.

Beltran stopped beside Deryn. “It’s party night, tonight.”

“Every night’s a party night in Oakan.”

“I like to make the easy calls.”