Unbound Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 1) (7 page)

21

Aaric

“
I
t
is
a true story,” Adaryn said grumpily, turning to the kitchen sink, or more pointedly, her back toward Aaric. She scrubbed furiously at the dinner dishes.

Aaric, seated in one of the kitchen chairs, rolled his eyes. “It's a myth, Adaryn. Barbaros Stronghorn wasn't real, and even if he was, there's no way he could have lifted a bull with one hand, even if he was a magic user.”

They were arguing over one of the fables found in the book Aaric had given Adaryn. Apparently what Aaric took for fable, Adaryn took for fact.

“It's not a myth,” she said decisively. “Bran said it really happened. He met someone who said he knew someone who said he was related to him. That makes it true.”

“Who's Bran?” Aaric asked, suddenly alert.

“Oh, just someone I know. He wouldn't interest you.” Aaric frowned at the amusement in her voice.

“Your father?” he questioned. “A brother?”

Adaryn laughed. “No, I don't have any brothers. Bran's my age. He's my best friend.”

“
Was
your best friend,” Aaric said sourly. It was the wrong thing to say. Adaryn's back stiffened, and she washed the dishes more vigorously.

“No, he's
still
my best friend, even if we're separated. We did everything together, and if I was at home, we still would.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “I didn't realize it then, but I think he was in love with me.”

“Are you in love with him?” Aaric asked anxiously. He found, with surprise, that he dreaded what the answer might be.

Adaryn was silent, and after what felt like an eternity, she spoke. “No, I don't think I am.” She laughed a little. “I should be. He's handsome, strong, sharp witted, and kind. Very kind. He certainly doesn't kidnap people. And he's tall,” she added, looking over her shoulder at Aaric, her eyes twinkling. Aaric looked away, feeling the heat rise to his face. He'd always been a little self-conscious about his height.

But wait. She said she wasn't in love with this Bran fellow. “Why?” he asked, standing up. “Why don't you love him?” He found himself standing right behind her, so close he could smell the pine scent in her hair. He coughed self-consciously. “Is there . . . someone else?” Heavens, let it be so.

Adaryn placed a wet dish on the counter and turned to face him. She looked nervous when she spoke. “Ah . . . no. Well, maybe. Actually, I don't feel good.” There were two spots of color on her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze, looking at the floor. “Excuse me.” And with that, she fled to her room, leaving a disappointed Aaric behind.

22

Adaryn

A
aric spent most of the next several days alone, only sharing my company at mealtime. He spoke to me if I had a question but didn't attempt at any conversation. I didn't press it. Something was wrong, but I didn't know what. Or I didn't
want
to know what. My confusion about him grew by the day. His big gray eyes, unruly hair, and ready smile were beginning to take up more of my thoughts than I cared to admit.

It was over a week before he seemed to be more like himself again. I was sitting at the kitchen table finishing my porridge when Aaric thundered down the stairs and catapulted into the kitchen, a big grin on his face.

“It's done!” he said excitedly. He rubbed his hands together with glee.

I frowned, puzzled. “What is?”

“My flying machine!” he said and laughed with pure delight. I smiled, glad to see he had snapped out of whatever had been making him cranky.

Aaric poured himself a glass of milk and sat in the chair opposite me. “I was beginning to wonder if it would all come together, but it did.” He swallowed too much milk at once and choked. When he caught his breath again, he went on as enthusiastically as if nothing had happened. “I'm going to take it out in the woods and test it, and I want you to come with me.”

I stared. “The forest? You want to take me?”

Aaric shrugged. “Why not? You know them better than I do, so you can help me find some high ground.”

He then frowned at me as the same thought that occurred to me occurred to him. “You're not going to try and escape, are you?” he asked anxiously. “That . . . would not be good.”

I forced a smile. “It's not like this collar is just going to fall off now, is it?”

Aaric nodded, visibly relaxed. I sat there as he prattled on, pretending to listen. It was going to be my first and possibly only opportunity to get into the woods so easily, and I wasn't sure if I'd be given such a lucky chance again. Collar or no collar, I needed to escape.

Aaric's eyes shone with an eager light as he talked about birds and flying machines. He called his contraption a glider. I smiled. I was going to miss him, I realized. It was an uncomfortable thought, and I ruthlessly squashed it.

“When do you plan to go?” I asked him.

Aaric looked at me, puzzled. “Go where?”

I wanted to roll my eyes but didn't. “The forest? To try out your glider.”

“Oh.” His expression cleared, and I realized belatedly that while caught in my own thoughts he had moved on to a different topic. “I can't go until this rain clears up, unfortunately.” I was reminded of the weather. The rain drummed a steady beat on the roof and had been going for several days.

“But,” he continued, “I plan to go the very first day it's clear.”

“I do know some high ground,” I said, fiddling with a blob of leftover porridge in my bowl. “I can show you then if you like.”

“Great!” Aaric stood up, smiling again. “I need to look over the glider and make sure everything is as it should be. Again.” He went back upstairs, leaving me alone.

I sat for a moment longer, then fetched my cloak and boots. I needed some fresh air. The city always smelled bad but less so when it rained. I went outside and walked down the now-familiar street, throwing my hood back and tipping my head up to feel the rain drops as they fell on my face. The rain here was the same as the rain in the forest.

“Adaryn? Adaryn!” I heard footsteps behind me, and I just had time to turn around before I was picked up off my feet in a tremendous hug, my feet dangling several inches off the ground. I couldn't breathe for a minute, so tight was the embrace. But I
knew
that embrace. I returned it, hugging Bran fiercely. Tears stung my eyes.

Bran set me down, grinning ear to ear. “It's good to see you, Adaryn,” he said, his eyes shining. “I can't tell you how good.”

I smiled back, fighting the urge to cry. I'd tried not to think about Bran during my capture, knowing the pain of separation would be too great, and it was only now that I realized how much I'd missed him.

“It's so good to see you, too,” I managed to say around the lump in my throat. My eyes traveled down, and I saw the collar around his neck. I clapped a hand to my mouth, horrified. “You too?” I whispered.

Bran shook his head and leaned closer. “Relax, it's a fake,” he said quietly.

“Why?” I asked.

He grinned again. “Why, to come and find you, of course,” he said, still talking in a lower voice. “You and Caolan. Briar was hiding in the trees, but she saw you and him carried off by the Oppressors.”

Bran's gaze hardened momentarily as he looked at the collar encircling my throat. “I am so sorry it's taken me this long, Adaryn. But this city is
packed
with people. I still haven't managed to find Caolan yet. Do you know where he is?”

I shook my head. I hadn't even known the young boy in our clan had been captured as well. I didn't remember anything after the scuffle I had with Aaric.

Bran gently took one of my hands. “I can't imagine what pain you must have endured, Adaryn,” he said quietly. “But it's almost all behind you. I'm going to find a way to free you. One way or another.”

I was about to tell him it wasn't likely. Then it hit me. “There is a way,” I said quietly. I looked around to make sure no passerby was listening. No one so much as glanced our way, but I pulled Bran into a nearby alley just to be sure.

I told him about Aaric's glider and how he planned to take me into the woods on the first clear day.

Bran grinned. “Your captor's an idiot. I can't believe he plans to take you out alone on your own territory. Ha!” He barked a short laugh.

I grinned in spite of myself. “Not an idiot,” I said. “He's just . . . very focused on his projects. He's actually quite brilliant. For an Oppressor,” I added hastily, seeing Bran's eyes narrow.

“Well, brilliant or not, he'll meet his end in a few days' time,” he said, his jaw firming. A thrill of fear ran through me as I thought of Aaric being in the hands of my people. When roused to anger, they were ruthless.

“No, Bran,” I said. “You can't hurt him. Promise you won't hurt him.”

Bran's eyes widened with incredulity. “What? What are you saying? This man captured you, Adaryn. Has hurt you and—”

“He hasn't hurt me,” I said. “Really, he hasn't.” I couldn't miss the frank disbelief in Bran's expression. “You need to promise me you won't hurt him, Bran.” I leaned toward him emphatically. “He captured me, but he hasn't hurt me or forced me to do anything against my will, aside from keeping me here. Promise me.”

Bran looked away for a minute, his eyes clouded in thought. “Fine,” he said at last, irritation in his voice. “I promise I won't hurt him.” He didn't fail to notice the soft sigh of relief that escaped my lips. He frowned but didn't remark on it.

“Where do we meet you?” he asked.

“At Eagle's Head,” I said. “Remember, he plans to test his glider there on the next fine day we get.”

“So what's a glider, exactly?” Bran asked.

I found myself smiling again, thinking of Aaric. “Just wait and see,” I said. “It's . . . a little difficult to explain.”

Bran enveloped me in another hug, as if he wasn't going to let me go again. “Stay strong, Adaryn,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You're almost free.”

“Thank you,” I whispered in his ear. A few tears trickled down my cheeks, and Bran wiped them with a finger, smiling sadly at me. He stepped away, into the alley shadows.

“In a few days’ time, then.”

“Goodbye,” I choked, hardly able to speak. Bran walked down the length of the alley, turned down a street, and within a moment was gone.

23

Adaryn

T
he next couple of days passed with agonizing slowness. I usually welcomed the rain as it helped with the often overbearing dust and smell of the city, but this time it felt like it would never let up. I paced up and down the halls relentlessly, driving both Aaric and myself crazy.

“Are you
sure
you don't have someone to see or somewhere to visit?” Aaric asked for the hundredth time, sticking his head outside the study door. “What about that Bertram fellow you visit on occasion? Wait.” Aaric dug through his pockets and pulled out a silver. “Here. Go buy yourself something.”

I took the silver, feeling a little guilty as I did so. I had no intention of spending it now, but it could definitely come in handy after I was freed.

I looked into Aaric's face. He was wearing his reading spectacles again, making his eyes look owlish. I felt a pang in my heart; I wanted my freedom, but I was beginning to realize it would come at a cost.

Aaric's expression turned puzzled as he continued to look at me. “Are you feeling well, Adaryn?” He pushed a strand of hair away from my forehead, looking into my face. My skin tingled at his touch, and I found myself beginning to think that life really had been all right with Aaric, then mentally shook my head. No, my mind was made up. I cared for Aaric, I really did, but I couldn't give up my life for him, could I?

I stepped away from him, forcing a smile. “I am well, Aaric. Thank you. I'll let you get back to your studies.”

Aaric nodded, his eyes becoming slightly glazed as his mind turned back to whatever book or manuscript he'd been reading earlier. I laughed softly at his expression and went outside.

It was late afternoon, and for a wonder, the rain had nearly let up. Tomorrow, I thought, as I walked down the streets toward Bertram's. Tomorrow I would be free, though I felt another stab of loss thinking about Aaric. No. I couldn't afford to think of that. I could only think of my freedom.

I saw a flash of red in my peripheral vision, and I turned. Ember walked swiftly down a street that connected to mine, her head down as she hurried in a straight line, heedless of the puddles she splashed through. My heart hurt to see her like this. This wasn't the fiery, sharp-tongued, happy go-lucky woman I knew. She had been badly hurt to have been changed so completely.

But what if she didn't have to live this way anymore? What if she were freed? What if I freed her? With my own escape tomorrow, why only free myself? The trick would be to get her out of the city tonight, without Aaric or Kingsley knowing and without being caught by the Night Watch. I knew if I was caught, the consequences would be terrible, but I only hesitated a moment before slipping quietly after her. My mind whirled as I followed, thinking about how I would reach her.

I knew I couldn't remove the collar myself, but I was confident that if I could just get her far enough from Kingsley and back to our people, I could find a way to help her.

She had quite a ways to go. It was nearly an hour before she led me to a large house. Large actually didn't even begin to describe it. It was an enormous mansion of white-painted brick and stone, with the same dark gray slate roof that so many of the buildings here had.

The property was surround by a tall iron fence, with tips reaching up to the sky like spear points. Ember produced a small key and, unlocking the gate, slipped inside.

I walked up to the fence, thinking to climb it, but it was practically humming with the magic that been placed on it. Kingsley must have had his slaves set a spell for security. I peered at it in the deepening gloom.
Was it to keep people out or in?

I would have to find a way to either undo the spell or redirect it. Either way, it was going to be time consuming and difficult. The longer I studied it, the more I felt that the spell might be beyond my skill. I stalked over to the gate, wondering if the lock would perhaps be easier to break, when I saw to my astonishment that it had been left unlocked!

I scanned the yard, hoping to see her, but she had gone. I looked at the gate. Why had she left it unlocked, unless she'd seen me following? I felt a smile play on my lips as I opened the gate and slipped through. If she knew I was coming, then this could prove to be easier than I thought.

I cautiously tiptoed up the long, white stone walkway, silently praying Kingsley didn't keep any dogs. As I approached the mansion, Ember came out the great front doors. I frowned. I had learned enough about slavery to know that slaves were rarely permitted to go through the front entrance. I shrugged. No matter. Kingsley seemed to have odd ways with his slaves. I called softly to her, but if she heard, she made no note of it. She turned and walked down a narrow path that veered off to the side of the house.

I clicked my tongue in annoyance and followed her. How could she not hear me?

Walking down the little path soon led me to a small, wooden door set in the side of the house. I opened it, wincing as the door squealed on its hinges. I quickly stepped inside, closing it behind me. I found myself in a narrow hallway. Wet, muddy footprints went down the entire length and disappeared as they turned to the right. It looked as if Ember had been in too much of a hurry to take off her boots. I grimaced as I followed the tracks; from the little I knew of Kingsley, I suspected muddy boots being tracked all over his house wouldn't go over well. But maybe he didn't ever come to the slaves' quarters.

Turning the right hand corner, I faced a long, rickety staircase. There wasn't much mud on the floor now but just enough to see Ember had gone upstairs. I walked up, feeling some apprehension when the stairs squeaked and groaned, but there wasn't anything I could do about the sound.

My mind worked busily as I climbed. The house was quiet. It was now barely past nightfall, and it seemed to me that there would still be members of the household awake. Why so quiet? Was Kingsley out? That would be ridiculously lucky. My mind went back to the party I attended with Aaric, and I rolled my eyes. On second thought, it wouldn't surprise me at all to find he was out attending some grand event.

I reached the top of the staircase, feeling a little breathless, as it had been longer than I anticipated. It led down another hallway. This one was lined with doors. I suspected this was where the slaves were kept. I slunk down the hallway, hardly daring to breathe. I heard the sound of someone crying through one of the closed doors, a young boy, maybe. It sounded familiar, but with Ember so close, I didn't have time for any distractions and pushed the sound from my mind.

The hallway was nearly pitch black except for the occasional glimmer of light that peeked through the cracks of the doors. The door at the far end of the hall was opened a little, and it was this room that I went to.

I pushed the door fully open, and it swung inward without a sound. There were a couple of lit candles on a small table. Their light cast a wavering blend of light and shadow on the walls.

Ember was in the far corner of the room, slumped on the floor, her head in her hands. The need for stealth forgotten, I rushed over to her, taking her hands in mine. My friend looked up at me, her eyes red rimmed and her face soaked with tears.

“Why did you do it?” she said, her voice trembling. “You should have stayed away. Adaryn, I'm so sorry.”

“What are you talking about?” I said, squeezing her hands in mine. She wasn't making any sense. “I came to free you, Ember. I'm getting you out of the city. Tonight.”

Ember shook her head at me. “Don't you see, Adaryn? It's over. This is our life now. This is the way it should be. Our magic is . . . dangerous. We don't deserve to be free.”

I frowned at her, my concern turning into anger. “You stop it right now! You're talking nonsense, Ember. Utter rubbish. You were born with the magic. It defines who you are—”

“You're quite correct, Poppy. The magic does define who you are. Barbaric and uncivilized.”

I felt my heart skip in horror, and I whirled around to face the man who had entered the room. Kingsley. He loomed in the doorway, cutting off my only exit to safety. The man continued speaking. “Your people roam the forests and fields, homeless and directionless. Without law and order. Without morals.”

I gritted my teeth and balled my hands into fists, my fingernails cutting into my palms. “You need a lesson on morals, Kingsley, and you know
nothing
about my people.”

“You obviously know nothing about mine.” Kingsley smiled lazily, but his eyes shone in the candlelight with an eagerness that formed a cold pit of fear in my stomach. He lifted his right hand; he held a collar.

“I have given your master plenty of opportunity to properly train you,” he said, still speaking quietly, “But he wouldn't listen. I suspected he might be developing feelings for you, and that has no place in our society. We must keep the balance, and you are out of control—speaking disrespectfully to me, attempting to cast magic on me in the city, and now breaking into my house, not to mention trying to free my property. I didn't expect that last move, even from you.”

“Ember is not property,” I snarled, backing away. I licked my lips nervously. I was almost against the wall.

Kingsley laughed, clearly amused. “Oh, she's not? Ginger, tell Poppy here what you are.”

I stood frozen, my eyes locked on Kingsley, but I heard the small sob behind me as Ember whispered, “Property. I am property.”

Kingsley's smiled widened. “A slave is property, a fact your previous master should have taught you, Poppy.” He took another step forward. “It's time you had a new master. Oh, I'm sure Aaric will initially object, but after I tell him what you've done, he will have no choice but to oblige.”

My back hit the wall, pressing up against it. I was as far away from him as I could get. Sweat trickled down my back, my breath coming in quick gasps. “Aaric cares for me,” I said without thinking. I felt a small shock of surprise voicing it, but I knew it was true.

“Perhaps,” Kingsley mused, “but how strongly?” He stepped through the doorway. He was now only a few paces from me. “Will he risk everything he's worked for, his family's reputation, for
you?
For a slave?”

Kingsley sneered at me, and I felt my gaze drop. He was right. Aaric wouldn't do that.

“Aaric will give you up because he has no choice,” Kingsley continued. “Not unlike Ginger here, who, when she realized you had come, came and told me because she knew she had no choice.”

My head snapped up, and I looked at Ember, who crouched, sobbing, on the floor. She looked like a frightened animal. “I-I'm sorry, Adaryn.” She could barely get the words out through her tears. “He would have hurt me terribly if I hadn't!”

My gaze switched back to Kingsley, who was now looking down at Ember, a mixture of disgust and satisfaction in his expression. “She learned quickly,” he said quietly. His green eyes met mine, glowing in the candlelight. “And so will you.”

He raised the collar and lunged toward me, moving at an incredible speed. My instinct for survival took over. I threw my hands up and summoned my magic, and a force of energy exploded from my fingertips, slamming into Kingsley and throwing him against the wall by the door. He shook his head, momentarily stunned.

I bolted toward the door, leaping over him as I ran. I landed on my hands and feet in a crouch, narrowly missing a white-hot stream of fire that shot where my head had been a moment before. Ember. I didn't give her a second thought. I couldn't help her now.

I leaped to my feet and threw myself down the hallway and hurtled down the stairs, two steps at a time. I heard someone running up above me as Kingsley shouted out. His voice filled me with fear, spurring me on. I catapulted down the small dank hallway and outside. I ran toward the gate, not caring if anyone saw me.

A thrill of terror shot through me at the sound of barking. So Kingsley did have dogs. Within moments, I heard the scrabble of claws on stone and growling. I turned and leaped to the side as a huge black dog lunged at my throat. Another one was on its heels. Summoning an enchantment of fire, I hurtled it at the dog. It turned into a flaming torch, howling and screaming with pain. I continued running and threw myself through the gate opening, slamming it shut as the other dog snapped at me through the bars. I heard voices calling out to each other, and lights were beginning to flare up in the mansion windows. Kingsley had his whole house in an uproar.

I fled, running like a wild creature through the streets, sobbing with fear and anger. It was over. I was over. Kingsley would have me killed or collared, I was sure of it. I ran, heedless of anyone who might see me, losing my way half the time. Time. I had precious little left to me. I desperately wished for Bran, but he wasn't here. My thoughts were tumbling over each other in my head as I half-ran, half-slid through the rain-slicked streets toward my home. There was only one person who might help me now.