Dark Lightning (6 page)

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Authors: Janet Woods

Tags: #Fantasy Romance

BOOK: Dark Lightning
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Jynx heard her mother call her and whispered urgently, ‘I must go.’ Quickly she poured the water from the dish down the drain. Immediately, the color prisms circling the room disappeared with it. Jynx slid the bowl under her bed and picked up the sewing she was supposed to be working on.

‘To whom were you talking?’ Greer Colban asked.

‘Nobody. I was singing,’ she lied. She dug the needle savagely into the material and it pricked into her finger, making the blood well out. ‘Ouch,’ she said, ‘I hate sewing,’ and she stuck her finger into her mouth.

Her mother took up the garment and gazed at it critically. ‘You’d got this far last time I looked at it.’

‘And you said I had to unpick it and start it all over again.’

‘So I did. Let me see that finger.’

Reluctantly Jynx held out her hand for her mother to examine.

Suspiciously, her mother gazed up at her. ‘Which one was it?’

‘The middle one, it’s healed.’

‘How could it have healed, you’ve only just pricked it?’

‘It was only a tiny wound. Bigger ones take a bit longer.’

‘I see.’ Greer looked troubled. ‘You have always healed quickly, Jynx?’

‘Is there something wrong with that? She knew there was.’

‘It might be wise if we keep this to ourselves. I believe you might have the blood of a follower of the grand alchemist in your veins.’

‘Wasn’t Lady Tiana a follower of the grand alchemist?’

‘I can see you’ve learnt ancient history, if nothing else. But yes, she was. Don’t get any fancy ideas though. This sort of thing could cost you a husband.

You’ve already lost the chance to wed Kedar and Gris. Your father will be furious when he finds out about this. You and Remy have always drawn attention because of your twinship.’ She sighed. ‘But at least you’re not identical, I suppose.’

‘If we had been we’d have been put down at birth, or the sacred eels would have taken one of us for nourishment. Me I expect,’ Jynx said with great relish.

Greer’s eyes darted back and forth then her hand whipped across her daughter’s face. ‘Hold your tongue you stupid girl. Talk of such things is not to be encouraged.’

 Her face flamed from the abuse. ‘It was you who brought up the watchers in the first place.’

‘Here, you feisty little cat, let’s see if you like this.’ Picking up the stitch picker Greer quickly stabbed the sharp metal point into Jynx’s arm then drew a deep scratch through the tender flesh, raising bright beads of blood.’

Jynx yelped with shock at the act, for truthfully, it hadn’t hurt that much. The yelp was followed by a sob to think that her mother would attempt to wound her physically. Though she’d always favored Emrys and Helise above herself and Remy. It was as if her mother thought it shameful to produce twin children. Her hand automatically went over the wound to protect it.

Her mother folded her arms over her chest and waited, a smug look on her face. After a while she said, ‘Let me see your arm?’

‘No!’ The wound would have healed, and she didn’t want to reveal that skill.

Grabbing her by the braid Greer slapped her face back and forth, and then prised the hand from the wound. Under the smeared blood there was still a faint red line, but it faded quickly, leaving the skin smooth and unbroken.

 Jynx found herself pushed to the floor and her mother crowed with satisfaction, ‘I knew there was something odd about you. You
are
one of those healers, aren’t you? Oh, the shame of it, to have given birth to defectives. I imagine your father will order you to be euthanized, Remy as well. Oh, why couldn’t you have been more like your sister, Helise––’

The door opened. Greer stopped in mid-sentence, as though frozen to the spot. Jynx looked past her to where her brother stood, his arm outstretched, and with a softly growling Wulf at his knee. She scrambled to her feet. ‘Did you do that or did Wulf?’

Remy shrugged. ‘Wulf brought me here, but I think I did. I’ve learned a few things from Saire to help me defend us without violence, but I’m not master of them yet. I don’t think the spell will last long. Get your things together, just a change of clothes, enough to carry in a sack. It’s not safe for us to stay here any longer. You heard our mother. They’ll have us euthanized.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘They will give us something and our hearts will stop beating and we’ll never wake up.’

‘But that’s death. I’m scared, Remy. I don’t want to be dead. What’s happening to us? I can’t understand it.’

‘I don’t know for certain, but the powers of defectives sometimes emerge just before adulthood, and that’s what’s happening to us.’

‘That’s not fair. I can feel the life bubbling inside me, and it brings me joy. I want to be the same as everyone else.’

‘I know, but we’re not like everyone else. Saire said the people of Arles are scared that those of us with unusual powers will join forces and overthrow him with our magic. He has vowed to eliminate them if he can find out which ones are infected with defective blood. Once our father learns of this he’ll be duty bound to report us, else he’ll be euthanized with us.’

‘But he’s an adviser to Lord Cynan.’

‘It makes no difference. We would be an embarrassment to him.’

 ‘You said that he’s scared we might join forces. Are there more defectives, then?’

‘Many, but we’re scattered, and we’re not called defectives. We come from the most gifted of the true-bloods. Our genetics are derived from a breeding program perfected by the ancient Truarcs. It was adopted by the Karshal people and persists despite the eradication program.’

Jynx couldn’t imagine overthrowing Cynan, the Lord of Arles. Although he’d never said a cross word to her, sometimes he’d looked upon her with disapproval when Laek took notice of her. His eyes were mean and she found him fearsome. She was glad Laek didn’t take after him, but after his mother, Azarine. ‘How will we overthrow him?’

‘Do stop wasting time by asking questions. How do I know? I’m still learning. Saire told me that if I try to do too much at once, my power might fade. It has to discover me as a vessel, not the other way round, and I have to learn to control it.’

Jynx threw the wishing dish into the pack. If Tiana had told the truth about the dish it would provide all her needs as long as she used it wisely. She pulled a cloak around her shoulders.

‘Is that all you’re taking?’

‘My needs are as few as yours, brother, and I’m also discovering my skills. You know they will send our brother Emrys to hunt us down and kill us if we flee. He’s the most skilled tracker in Lord Cynan’s personal guard. They’ll say it was an accident so they won’t have to be embarrassed by us. That will leave Helise still acceptable as a wife for Laek. Poor Laek.’

‘Laek is old enough to dictate the course his life will take. You will see.

He will never marry Helise, despite her beauty.’

A sigh came from the still figure of their mother and she began to quiver.

‘Quickly, we must be gone,’ Remy said.

As the pair slipped from the house with Wulf going ahead like a silent shadow, his eyes alert and his ears pricked forward to sense danger, Jynx’s heart thumped with the enormity of what they were doing. She had no idea of where they were going, or where they would end up. Yet there was a sense of purpose and destiny about her that she’d never experienced before. If nothing else she intended to experience and enjoy the adventure of running away before she was euthanized.

 

Chapter Six

 

The City of Arles was dominated by a solid manor built on the apex of a hill. Around it, four layers of high walls descended in rings. They were fully occupied. The top layer next to the manor was the house gardens. Only the front was decorative. The remainder, tended by poor villagers, was given over to growing fruit and vegetables.

Beneath were the training yards where Cynan and his troops practiced the craft of war. The layer below was given over to the grazing of meat, and beyond that a market allowed free access to the public, to buy and sell goods.

At the very bottom, the landscape supported the fine homes of dignitaries and merchants, then changed into smaller solid dwellings before deteriorating into a jumble of poorer dwellings and down again into hovels that crowded haphazardly along the narrow public ways, then fanned outwards along the routes in and out of the city. It was all about business, the labor of the peasants supporting the families of wealth and privilege.

The whole area was protected from the worst excesses of the weather by an almost endless forest teaming with games A stream meandered lazily along its course, to pick up volume from various water springs, lakes and spouts, through to the harbor, then on to the sea.

Only the trimarines were allowed to come and go by water without a permit.

It was said that the manor was impregnable. It was certainly well guarded, with only two visible entrances to the manor itself, and the shoulder-high castellated wall patrolled by foot troopers in pairs. Beneath the citadel was an escape tunnel known only to a few. It terminated behind the stone wall of a storage shed covered in ivy.

* * * *

Hal and Orish had taken a room in the poorer quarters of town. Uffo had been left in a stable outside the city for a small recompense. He’d been happy to be left with similar of his kind, and they’d whuffled greetings and nudged against each other.

‘We’ll only be a few days so make the most of it,’ Orish had told him, ‘And no gossiping, mind.’

Something that seemed to be exactly what they were doing when another flight put its mouth against Uffo’s ear and gently snickered, Hal thought, giving the animal a smile and a final pat. He turned to the stableman and held out a hand. ‘You will look after him, won’t you?’

‘He’s a fine boy with a good pedigree.’ The man gently ran his over the ridges of the animal’s wings, and Uffo gave a little trill of pleasure, arched his neck and shook his mane. The man met Hal’s eyes squarely. ‘Don’t you fret, I’ll care for him like he was one of my own.’

When Hal pressed his thumb against the stableman’s hand a blue glow appeared. The man fell to his knee and bore Hal’s hand to his forehead. ‘My pardon, Sire.’

Hal hauled him to his feet. ‘Get up man, what are you about? Someone might be watching?’

‘For a moment you reminded me of Lord Sabarin of Karshal.’

 ‘A name that must never be mentioned on pain of death,’ Orish reminded the stableman sharply.

‘Yet it is being uttered abroad. If you listen to the evening wind you can hear it whispered in the air, and discussed amongst the throngs in the market place. They say the son of Sabarin is coming to take his revenge on the death of his family.’

‘The princes perished in the massacre and their bones were picked clean by the bats. Only the daughter was left alive and she married Cynan.’

‘She had no choice, and thank goodness she did for she has made our lives endurable.’

There was a sense of pride in the stableman at the remark and Hal couldn’t help but ask, ‘What is her name?’

‘Azarine.’

The world slammed into him, taking his wind, and then dimmed around him. Hal heard the voice of a young woman ... barely a whisper.
‘Grow with honor of your father and mother. We will know each other when we meet again.’

He spun round to catch a glimpse of her, dark-haired, her blue eyes awash with tears. The smell of blood was in his nostrils so it made him dizzy, and he could almost taste the vicious scent of her need for revenge. Then the earth fell away under him and he was enveloped in mist, and he could see nothing more. He came back to his senses, dizzy and disorientated.

When the world lightened all was as it was before. Orish’s hand was under his elbow, steadying him. ‘Stop dawdling Hal, we have to sell the amulets before we can afford a room at an inn.

 The stableman advised, ‘The inns are filled with listening ears and wagging tongues. There’s a room attached to the stable if you don’t mind the flight’s whispering to one another during the night. It gives some people the creeps. It’s a poor room but my mother is a good cook. You’re welcome to stay, and can pay what you think my hospitality is worth.’

‘Thank you,’ Hal said.

Access to the room was through a false wall of rough planks that had various leathers, blankets and implements for tending to the comfort of the flights. A plank swiveled to one side and could be bolted from the inside. The room contained bales of fresh straw, and a table and chairs. They placed their bedrolls in the straw bales, observing the usual protocol of concealment.’

‘This is a handy bolt hole,’ Hal observed with a grin. ‘One thing puzzles me, though. I’m wondering why we’re trusting you and you’re trusting us.’

 The stableman shrugged. ‘My instinct tells me to, and so do the flights. I once worked in the Karshal stables.’

‘I’ve never been to Karshal, so that means nothing to me. Come ... I am sick of all this secrecy. What is your name?’

Orish took in a sharp breath. ‘His name is Sharn. His mother died during the sacking of Karshal when he was barely twelve seasons. He was kept concealed and escaped the slaughter.’

‘How do you know all these things, Orish?’

‘His name is on the permit over the door. As for the rest, he told me himself. If you cannot trust your own instinct yet then you can comfortably trust mine, Hal. Sharn is one of us.’

‘That I am.’ Sharn moved to the wall of the building, where a door was set, camouflaged by a thin layer of straw. ‘If you need to leave in a hurry you can get out through this door. There’s a waterspout on the outside wall if you need water, and the convenience is at the end of the garden.’

‘Arles is a city that is uneasy, and rumors abound,’ their host told them. ‘Two people on the list to be euthanized have absconded and the people are unsettled. The girl shows a talent towards healing, whilst the lad has ... magic.’

Orish’s ears pricked up and he smiled and nodded. ‘They are the children of Lord Cynan’s chief advisor, are they not?’

Sharn nodded. ‘It’s said that their brother Emrys, who is the most experienced tracker in Cynan’s service, has been sent after them. If you run into them first I wouldn’t object if you brought them back here. Not that I’d expect you to break the law ...’ He shrugged and his voice trailed off with, ‘They’re only youngsters.’

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