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Quinn was having problems at keeping her own jaw from dropping. As soon as she touched over Eden, she knew she had felt him before. His frame was familiar. He was the lad she had seen lost in the hallway. She had sensed him another time, too. But when? She would have remembered it if she’d been herself. Then it came to her. The courtyard. He’d been there then, when she had collapsed. Her face coloured at the memories. How embarrassing. Did he remember her? Unfortunately, Eden answered the question for her.

“The young woman in the courtyard? Of course. Are you healed? You seemed in great pain. I hope one of our men didn’t…”

“No,” she broke in, unable to restrain herself at the unbridled concern emanating from this young man. “I’m fine, thank you. It wasn’t your men. Everyone was most responsive to my plight.”

Eden nodded. Quinn didn’t detach. She felt every single fluctuation as Eden went from concern to guilt, to sadness and to gratitude that no long-term harm had been done. He had forgotten why he was here, and lost all concern for his own personal wellbeing. What a curious man.

Realising she didn’t want to be here analysing him for Sammah, she broke away. Sammah turned and raised an eyebrow at her. She shook her head in return. Sammah frowned, and she shook her head again.

“I’m sorry, baron. I forgot that Ross has some extra duties for me to attend. I need to go.”

Buzzing at the defiance she was showing, she strode straight past a bewildered Sammah, her heart hammering as she moved within inches of the handsome and beguiling noble from Sevenspells. Quinn didn’t even flinch as she passed Elias, who scanned his eyes over her quickly, dismissing her in the same instance. She expected Sammah to shout out to her, but she supposed he didn’t dare, not in the presence of someone he—no, she—wasn’t meant to be questioning. The further she got down the corridor, the wider her smile grew. She was in control. She didn’t have to do as Sammah bade. She was going to be free. She was going to be fine.

24

In retrospect, she should have slept somewhere else.

Her dreams had been light, her sleep, weighty. Quinn was woken up with a fist wrapped around her neck. She choked, trying to scream but barely able to breath. Foul breath spilled over her. She tried to hold her breath, but knew she’d pass out soon enough anyway. Opening her eyes, she could make out a silhouette in the darkness, but with the moonless sky she couldn’t make out a face. No matter. There were very few candidates for who would be doing such a thing, and at such a time.

She reached out with her ability, and found the familiar head-squeezing blankness of Elias.

She felt the pressure of one finger that lay gently across her lips in a laughable juxtaposition to the throttling hand around her neck. The message was clear. Don’t make a noise. She attempted to nod. The pressure on her neck was gently released, and Quinn took in some much-needed deep breaths.

Elias waited at the end of her bed as she got up, putting on some clothes and pulling her hair back in to a loose knot. She spared a glance for Neyv’s bed. She was sleeping soundly, snoring like a pig on its back in a pen. She shook her head. Elias must have moved like a shadow. That would take a lot of learning for a man his size. How wasted he was on Sammah.

She fondled the soreness around her neck all the way to the familiar chambers. She imagined the fingermarks being pronounced, the bruising they would have caused raising questions from her siblings the next day.
It was Sammah
, she would tell them casually
he’s a brute, and I’m going to leave
.

Sammah’s door was closed. In the antechamber sat her cloak and hood. Elias shoved them at her and in silent obedience, she closed the clasp and shrouded her face. Only when he was certain he couldn’t see her, did Elias open the door. Sammah’s room, by contrast, may as well have been on fire. There were candles in every sconce, across his table, even some on the floor. Sammah was in his chair, in its usual spot. In the middle of the room was a man Quinn had seen many times, but hadn’t met before now. It was Alec, the heir apparent of Lord Broc of Broadwater. Even if he hadn’t had an eye that was starting to go purple and a dribble of blood running from his nose, he would have still looked battered and petrified. Broc was an old man barely able to see past his nose and everyone knew that Alec ruled in all but name. That Sammah could treat a man of such standing with so much disdain—Quinn reflected that perhaps her wake-up call hadn’t been that bad.

“Ah, Satori. So glad you can join us. I have some questions for Alec here, and I don’t think he’s being entirely truthful. I need your help on gauging the situation, if you’d be so kind.”

“You’re joking, right? Sammah? I thought the Satori was a myth? You know, a threat? You don’t have someone that can…there’s no way you can…”

“There is. I can. You will tell me the truth Broc, whether you want to or not. You can’t hide it from me. I want to know what you and Shiver have been plotting. I’ve already caught his filthy little spy. He’s managed to give me the slip by actually attending the meeting. You don’t get that honour though, do you? You’re not a ruler, not yet. Such a shame, seeing as you’re the one that Shiver is actually colluding with, for you to be left so vulnerable. Not even any men looking after you?”

“I had two guards in my rooms. Where they are now, remains to be seen.”

Despite herself, Quinn searched for and found the feelings behind the words. Broc was angry. He had also been torn from his bed in the dead of night. Why would he be pleased about that? But the anger was agitated. It was likely that he was telling the truth.

“I’m sure I wouldn’t know. I’d ask my messenger, but alas and alack, he can’t speak.”

Quinn stopped herself just short before she absentmindedly reached out to Sammah. Quinn didn’t want to experience that much pain again. Sammah looked towards her, looking for her opinion on proceedings so far. She gave an exaggerated nod so that Sammah would see the gesture from underneath her hood. So far, Broc was not lying. She was intrigued as to what he was supposed to not be lying about, but she had never before been present when Sammah had been speaking with one of his noble friends. She had never before appreciated just how unpleasant he may come across to others. Her adoptive father was not a man that to be trifled with.

“Now Broc, let’s not mess around here. Shiver covets the throne, and he always has done. Your father doesn’t know where to find his arse any more, but you, you’re an ambitious boy and you’ve never hidden that. Who else to ride with but Shiver? He’s getting older, and he’s keeping himself alive on the old war stories he’s repeated over the fires for the last fourteen summers. Shiver can do all the hard work, and you’ll be right behind him to stab him in the back as soon as the throne comes free. Am I right?”

Broc looked panicked. He stared at the ground, outright refusing to look at Quinn, as if avoiding eye contact would negate any ability she had to sense his feelings. The tension in the room was unbearable. Quinn resisted the urge to fidget. The Satori, in the eyes of Everfell, did not fidget. Eventually, Broc looked up.

“What do you want me to do?”

His voice was tired. He sounded like exactly what he was; a caught and cornered man, trying to work his way desperately out of a trap. Quinn was stunned. Broc had really been working with Shiver to take the throne? Was this what Sammah needed her for? Her heart buoyed. She would have no problem being a part of this. She would do everything within her power to help Sammah keep King Vance in his rightful place. This feeling quickly changed to a sickened knot in the pit of her stomach when, with a fluid swing, Elias stepped forward and smashed a club in to the back of the young noble’s head. Broc crumpled to the ground without a noise, though Quinn couldn’t hold back her own scream. Elias turned to her and she backed towards the door in fright. The mute had turned from a silent guardian into a creature to be feared. She knew that he must have fought people. He was a hired mercenary. He had killed during the wars. But to strike down an unprotected man—a noble—and Sammah being the one to give that order. Quinn was suddenly very scared for her life. Her heart pounded in her chest, her legs turning leaden underneath her when all she wanted to do was turn from the room and run.

With the blood rushing to her head, it took her a few moments to realise that Sammah had pushed Elias back behind him, and he was beckoning to her. His actions were calm. He was trying to reassure her. She wasn’t in any harm. Of course she wasn’t. She was his Satori and he needed her help.

Quinn sat dumbly on the floor as his words washed over her. She tried to understand what he was saying, but all of it was both astonishing and confusing.

“It’s simple, Quinn. Vance doesn’t deserve his throne. Shiver is right about that much. The thing is, Shiver doesn’t deserve it either. None of the Lords of Everfell deserve to rule any of these lands. They are all fat, lazy, pompous, too self-absorbed with their own lives to care about the people around them. Me? Look at what I’ve done. Saving orphans—like you—making sure you are fed and taught a trade. Maertn would have died without my help, and here he is, on the cusp of being made the main healer in the capital city itself. I care, Quinn. Everfell needs to be ruled by a man with the capacity to care, but the integrity to lead with a fist of iron. I can use men like Shiver, but ambitious young men like Broc will just get in my way. Shiver knows his role. He’s stepped outside his boundaries, but he can be reined back in. Shiver knows he is on a leash. Broc does not know that. Broc did not know just how under my control Shiver is. That makes him dangerous. This is where I need you, Quinn. You can tell me the truth of the matter. You can find the men that are lying and cheating, those that are colluding against me and those that are loyal. I need that. The world is too full of liars and one day someone will lie so well that I won’t be able to tell. That will be the man that stabs me in the heart whilst I sleep. I need you to keep those men away.”

“But Vance is the king. You’re from Sha’sek.” Quinn blurted, her young mind overwhelmed by everything Sammah had said. Sammah shrugged her off with a laugh.

“Sha’sek used to rule Everfell, little one. It was thousands of years ago, but Vance’s people did not always rule here. We were pushed south, beyond the desert, to the islands of Sha’sek. This used to be our home, and it can be again. Not without your help.”

“I’m scared Sammah. I can’t do what you’re asking me to do.”

“You can, Quinn. You’ve been doing it most of your life. But you’re old enough now to understand why I need you to do it. You’ll be an adult soon, free to make your own choices, go where you will. I don’t want you to go anywhere else. You will stop being a maid. You will enter my full time employ. This is the way it needs to be child, you understand that, don’t you?”

Quinn nodded her head dumbly. She understood exactly what Sammah wanted of her. Which is why, that night, she would leave the city, whether she had any help or not.

25

“Why are you leaving, Quinn? You can’t just go! This is mad.”

Maertn was hissing at her in the darkness of their room. Quinn had dismissed all of his complaints and yelps so far, and she wasn’t about to turn around and listen to another barrage.

“I’ve told you why, Maertn. You need to leave too. He’s using us, don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t see. I’m a healer. You’re a maid. What can he possibly use us for?”

Quinn paused. Maertn didn’t know what skills he had, and she was petrified to let him know her own. What would he think of her if he knew that all of her life she’d been able to sense his innermost feelings and hadn’t told him? Quinn knew that she herself would feel utterly betrayed.

“I can’t explain Maertn. I just…I just know, okay? I don’t expect you to understand, and I don’t need you to risk yourself to help me. You’re fine here, you have your place in the castle. You’re safe. They’re not going to be looking for you. You can’t hurt anyone.”

She couldn’t help herself. She reached out for the hurt she knew she’d feel, to steel herself against what she was going to do. She did not love Maertn the way he loved her. Quinn had known that for a long time. At least leaving would free her from his life, so that he could move on. And there was Sammah. Maertn was a help for Sammah. Would Quinn end up causing Maertn harm? Did Sammah know how the healer felt? Would he end up in Elias clutches one day, just so Quinn would do as Sammah asked?

She told herself repeatedly, she convinced herself that running away was the best for everyone else concerned. Sammah couldn’t use her to get his own way. Maertn wouldn’t be put in harm’s way. No more men would be hurt because of the information she would expose. She would not be a part of Sammah’s scandalous push to take control of the throne of Everfell.

But what if he could still take control without her? Were there others like her, with empathic skills? Quinn wasn’t so sure. If there were, she would have met them by now. Surely Sammah wouldn’t have been able to keep such a thing so secret. And would she have been able to identify them? What emotion would an empath give out, if anything? Quinn went cold. What if that was the secret behind the fire she felt when she touched Sammah. Was he an empath, too? Did he feel the same if he reached his power out to her? She shook her head. No, that made no sense. If Sammah had the same ability himself, then he wouldn’t need her to do his dirty work. Although, the more she thought on it, it was much easier to smuggle a maid out of the castle and create a terrifying persona to hide her, rather than try to sneak a baron out at any time and have him interrogate spies, thieves and conniving nobles.