Authors: Arwen Elys Dayton
At the last moment, Shinobu leapt away from his fight with Alistair and tackled John. The two apprentices sprawled safely out of the disruptor’s path. The sparks struck the wall where John’s head had been, disappearing in flashes of light.
Quin had forgotten the disc in her concern for John, and the fiery circle was bouncing across the floor, setting the straw in its path alight.
The disruptor was at its full whine once more. Quin saw the enjoyment on her father’s face as he fired it at John again.
John turned, transfixed. He was staring at the sparks coming at him, hypnotized by their awful beauty. Permanent—that’s what the disruptor was. If the sparks reached you, they took your mind and didn’t leave. And John was waiting to be hit.
She saw Shinobu kick John to the side, sending him out of the disruptor’s path a second time.
John fell to the floor, and this time he stayed down.
Quin retrieved the burning disc and stamped out the flames it had left along the floor. For the first time in the fight, she was angry. Her father was specifically targeting John. It was unfair.
She tossed the disc to Shinobu, ran across the barn, and slammed her body into Briac, knocking him and the disruptor to the ground. Sparks shot up toward the ceiling and bounced among the rafters in a chaotic pattern.
Quin brought her sword down at her father’s face as hard as she could.
“Match!” Briac yelled, before she could strike him. Instantly Quin obeyed his order and collapsed her whipsword.
Shinobu caught the flaming disc for the last time. Quin looked
at the clock, astonished to find that only five minutes had passed. It had felt like a year. John slowly stood up from the floor. Everyone was breathing hard.
Briac got to his feet. He and Alistair seemed to share a silent assessment of the fight. Alistair smiled. Then Briac turned and walked toward the equipment room, limping slightly.
“Quin and Shinobu, midnight,” he called, without turning around. “We meet at the standing stone. You will have a busy night.” He paused in the doorway of the equipment room. “John, you have bested the others and even me many times, but I saw no evidence of that skill here. You will meet me in the commons at dinnertime. We will speak frankly.”
With that, he shut the door firmly behind him.
Quin and Shinobu looked at each other. Quin’s anger had disappeared. Half of her wanted to scream in delight. She’d never fought like that before. Tonight she would take her oath. The life she had been anticipating since childhood would finally begin. But the other half of her was with John, who stood in the center of the barn, staring at the floor.
The sun was getting low in the sky over the Scottish estate as John walked away from the training barn. He and Quin had left the barn separately, as they always did, but he knew she would be waiting for him.
A thousand years ago, there had been a castle on the estate, which had belonged to some distant branch of Quin’s family. The castle was in ruins now, its crumbling towers perched above the wide river that encircled the land. As he walked, he could see the very highest point of the ruins in the distance.
Now the estate was made up of ancient cottages, most built over the centuries from stones carried off from the castle. The cottages were dotted around the edge of a huge meadow, called the commons. It was spring now, and the commons was full of wildflowers. Beyond the meadow, the woods began, a tall forest of oak and elm that crept right up to overshadow the houses and marched away to the ruins and beyond.
Barns lay at one end of the meadow. Some had animals in them,
but others, like the enormous training barn, were where the apprentices practiced the skills they would need as Seekers.
John walked through the shadows at the edge of the woods, then headed deeper into the trees. Even with his tremendous failure on the practice floor hanging over him, he felt his pulse quickening. He was entering another world, when he was in the woods with Quin, away from the parts of his life that usually overshadowed everything. He hadn’t been alone with her in days, and finding her seemed more important than anything else at this moment.
She never chose the same spot to wait, but he must be getting close now. He was in their favorite part of the woods, where the canopies of the great trees touched overhead, blocking the sun and leaving the forest floor dark and quiet. A moment later, he felt hands encircling his waist and a chin sliding onto his shoulder.
“Hello,” she whispered into his ear.
“Hello,” he whispered back, smiling.
“Look what I found …”
She slipped her hand into his. Quin had dark hair cut chin length and a lovely face with ivory skin and large, dark eyes. Those eyes flashed at him mischievously as he followed. She led him to a stand of oaks that had grown in such a way as to create a tiny, secluded space in their center. She stepped through an opening between two of the trees and pulled John after her.
In a moment they were standing together inside the thicket. “It’s not exactly the finest room at the village inn,” she murmured.
“It’s better,” he said. “At an inn, you might be standing farther away.”
There wasn’t really enough room for both of them, and John was forced to pull her up against him, which was all right with him. He leaned down to kiss her, but Quin stopped him, putting her hands on either side of his face.
“I’m worried,” she whispered.
He could tell. He could feel it coming off her in waves, like heat off asphalt in the summer. She was right to be worried, of course. The knowledge they were being taught was ancient, and highly protected. And in John’s case, only perfection in his assigned tasks would win him the privilege of learning it. He was hardly a favorite of Briac’s. His failure in today’s fight was surely the excuse Briac had been looking for.
“I’ve never heard my father say anything quite so … final to you,” she said quietly. “What if he means to kick you out?”
The anticipation of meeting her in the forest had pushed aside John’s dread for a few minutes, but now it came back in full force. He was the strongest fighter of the three, yet he’d failed in the fight. He’d failed at the moment when he’d most needed to succeed.
He let his head fall back against a tree trunk. For a moment, he fought the sensation of a large stone pulling him to the bottom of the ocean.
No
, he thought,
I can’t fail. I won’t
.
His whole life was wrapped up in taking this oath. He was John Hart. He would get back what was taken and be at no one’s mercy again. He had promised, and he would keep the promise.
“Briac has to take this seriously,” he told Quin, working hard to sound reassuring, both to her and to himself. He must pull himself up from despair. “I was … horrible in that fight, wasn’t I? He’s got to be strict. He’s the ‘protector of hidden ways’ and all that. But he’s spent years training me. I’m almost there. It would be wrong to kick me out now.”
“Of course it would be wrong. It would be completely wrong. But he’s saying—”
“Your father’s an honorable man, isn’t he? He’s going to do what’s right. I’m not worried. And you shouldn’t be either.”
Quin nodded, but her dark eyes were full of doubt. He couldn’t blame her. John didn’t believe the things he was saying about Briac either. He knew very well the kind of man Quin’s father was, but he clung to the hope that Briac would keep his promises. There had been witnesses to those promises, and Briac must honor his commitments. If he didn’t …
He forced the thought away. Life had been good here on the estate with Quin—as good as his life had ever been, much better than he’d dared to hope for—and he didn’t want that to change.
Quin had made friends with John on the day he arrived. They’d been kids then—John only twelve—but even so, his first thought had been of how pretty she was.
In that first year, she and Shinobu both came to visit John in his own cottage frequently, but it was Quin’s visits alone he liked the most. She was fascinated with his descriptions of London, and eager to show him all of the estate.
When John’s mother had been alive, she’d warned him to keep up his guard around everyone, and he did. But he liked to hear about Quin’s family, about the lore of the estate. And Quin seemed to enjoy his company—not because he was wealthy or because his family was important but because she liked him. Just him. He’d never experienced that before. Even at twelve, John refused to let this move him—her interest might have been a trick, a way to get past his defenses and learn his secrets. Still, he spent time with her. With Shinobu he would practice fighting. With Quin he would take walks.
And she began to get … curves. He hadn’t realized how distracting curves could be. He knew he was in trouble when he was fourteen, sitting in their languages class, and he found himself examining the way Quin’s slender waist twisted into her hips. They were being asked to read aloud in Dutch, but he was imagining his hand tracing
the line of her body. He tried to keep her from his mind, to stay as clear and calculating as his mother would have wanted him to be, but he couldn’t believe that Quin’s friendliness was false.
Then, when she was nearly fifteen, they were paired in an especially difficult practice match in the training barn. Alistair was sending them against each other again and again, demanding that they fight at the extreme limits of their strength.
“Come on, John. Strike her!” Alistair yelled, apparently thinking John was taking it easy on Quin.
Maybe he
was
taking it easy on her. It was winter, and her cheeks were flushed, her dark eyes bright with the exertion of the fight as she moved nimbly with her sword.
She struck him hard and he fell. Perhaps he’d let her hit him, because he didn’t mind falling. He imagined tumbling onto the floor with her … Then the fight was over and they were both breathing hard, staring at each other across the practice area.
Alistair dismissed them, and John found himself walking outside the training barn in a daze, trying to carry himself as far away from her as he could. He could not see where he was going. He could only see Quin. The desire to be with her was overwhelming.
He stopped around the back of the barn, hiding himself behind the trunks of the barren winter trees. There he leaned against the stone wall, his breath filling the air with steam.
He didn’t want to feel what he was feeling. His mother had warned him against love so many times.
When you love, you open yourself to a dagger
, she had told him all those years ago.
When you love deeply, you have thrust the dagger into your own heart
. Love did not fit into any of his plans. But how could you plan for this? It wasn’t just her beauty he wanted. It was all of her: the girl who talked to him, the girl who would bite her bottom lip when she was concentrating intensely, the girl who smiled when they walked through the woods together.
He pressed his cheek against the cold stone of the barn, feeling his heart beating wildly, trying to rid himself of the image of her.
Then Quin was there, walking past the end of the barn, only a few feet from him. She was staring ahead, into the woods, also dazed. Their eyes met, and suddenly he knew—he knew she had come looking for him.
John reached out his hand and grabbed the sleeve of her coat, pulling her toward him. And then her arms were around him. Neither of them had ever kissed anyone before, but all at once, he was kissing her. She was warm and soft, and she was kissing him back.
“I was hoping you would do that,” she whispered.
He’d meant to say something romantic and controlled, like
You’re very beautiful
, but instead the deeper truth came tumbling out of him. “I need you,” he whispered to her. “I don’t want to be alone … I love you, Quin …”
Then they were kissing again.
There were heavy footsteps approaching, twigs breaking. It was Alistair; they could recognize his tread anywhere.
Suddenly they were apart, pushing away from each other. And by the time Alistair reached the end of the barn, Quin had disappeared around the other side, with a final glance at John.
That began their forest meetings. Quin was quite sure her parents wouldn’t approve, so they kept their feelings for each other secret. But eventually it was obvious that everyone on the estate knew of their changed relationship—after a while, John sensed something colder in Briac’s stare, and a subtle irritation in Shinobu’s attitude.
John had tried to justify his feelings. Perhaps it
was
love he felt, but couldn’t love also be an advantage? Wouldn’t Briac have to care more about him when he understood how much he and Quin cared for each other? If he could eventually convince Briac to let her marry him, it would create an alliance, wouldn’t it? An alliance with Briac
wouldn’t be pleasant, but it might be a way to fulfill his own promise, at least for a time.
Surely a feeling that made John so happy could not be bad.
Now, between the trees with his arms around Quin, he marveled at how right it felt. When they were alone, he could imagine that she would be by his side for everything to come. Eventually she would understand, even about her own father …