Destiny of the Light: Shadow Through Time 1 (28 page)

I hate you. I just want you to know that
, she said and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to catch her breath. The silence around her throbbed. Then came a crackling hiss from in front of her. The candle! She opened her eyes into pitch darkness. Tried to swallow and couldn’t.

Y
OUR SILENT PURSUER.

A hand touched her arm.

She screamed.

‘Y
ou may joke, but I know you love me,’ Pagan said, sprawled on the visitor’s couch in Lae’s reception room.

She rolled her eyes to acknowledge the melancholy depths their banter had sunk to, yet within herself Lae recognised the thrill of excitement her battles with Pagan sparked — excitement she had sorely missed. Though she knew Talis cared for her, his solemn silences had begun to wear her patience.

‘I take my leave of you, whom I do
not
love,’ she declared and rose from her chair as though to depart, yet all the time knowing his retort would require her to stay. ‘Take your ease here alone if you wish,’ she added airily, ‘for I do not know anyone in the castle who would welcome your company’

Lae brushed the tapestry threads from her gown and felt delicious anticipation as she waited for his reply. Yet this invigoration came tinged with guilt, for the fun she now had with Pagan seemed in sharp contrast to her peaceful interludes with Talis. She longed for their marriage and the pleasures of the bridal bed but her natural inclination was towards conflict and excitement, and she could not help but wonder whether Talis’s implacable kindness would drive her mad.

Yet before she could pretend to step towards the door, it opened of its own accord and Mooraz stood at its entrance. For a moment his gaze searched the room, then bestowed itself on her person. ‘My Lady.’ He nodded and made to withdraw.

‘Stop,’ Lae ordered. ‘What intrusion is this?’

Mooraz glanced at Pagan, then nodded again at his Lady and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

Lae stared at it, then looked to Pagan. ‘Mooraz disobeyed me,’ she said, wonder in her voice.

Pagan frowned a question yet she held up a hand to him and hurried to the door, opening it a crack.

‘… and your daughter but The Light is not within, My Lord,’ she heard Mooraz say softly.

Then her father’s voice. ‘She cannot be far away. Search the other chambers then make for the Cliffdweller tunnels. With luck her escape will already be thwarted by the rising tide.’

Escape?

Lae instinctively stepped away from the door and resumed her seat. ‘So tell me, Guardian,’ she said, pointing a finger at the door and warning him with her eyes. ‘What lowly jest do you mean to bore me with today?’

Before Pagan could reply, the door swung wide and her father entered. He nodded to Pagan who had risen to his feet.

Lae conjured a smile for her father and said, ‘Does no-one knock in this castle? First Mooraz, and now you, father?’

Djahr returned his daughter’s smile. ‘I see your betrothed’s cousin has sharpened your wit, daughter. I will leave you to your amusement.’ He glanced about the room and withdrew.

Lae’s eyes again warned Pagan before she said, ‘Come, scold me for my family’s lack of courtly skills. I know you want to do so.’

He frowned, yet in spite of his stupidity, he seemed to grasp her intent and they fought with each other, as was their wont, until more than an hour had passed.

At last Lae said, ‘I tire of this, Cousin. I will take some air, the better to clear my mind of your thin barbs.’ She gestured for him to follow.

‘You will not escape me, My Lady of Be’uccdha,’ Pagan replied, following her to the door. ‘I will walk with you still and we will see whose barbs are thin.’

‘As you wish,’ Lae replied, as though she did not care at all.

The guard outside their door stepped aside as they passed and Lae gave Pagan an exasperated glance, the better to aid their deception. Sting followed retort as they wended their way in a seemingly aimless walk towards the East Tower, which sat above secret tunnels where Lae had met Hush.

Two hours after Mooraz had interrupted their conversation, the antagonists found themselves alone and away from possible detection. Pagan glanced around the bare room Lae had led him to, then held aloft the brand she had lit, to inspect the hatchway through which they had entered.

‘Keep that low,’ Lae hissed, her first words since their silent descent. ‘Someone may come above and see the light.’

The Light …

Lae glanced away, her thoughts turning to Khatrene who even now ran through dark, dank tunnels, risking her life to escape her husband. Lae could not imagine what her father had done to earn such disloyalty, though in truth her mind shied from any thoughts that would damage her love for him. As a child she had taught herself ‘not to see’ anything which would show her father in a bad light and her experience of running away to the Shrine had reinforced that idea.

Yet, even without knowing The Light’s argument with her father, the animosity Lae had harboured for her new mother was fading, and it seemed rather as though this were Khatter, the friend of her youth, Lae was trying to help.

She glanced at Pagan and wished she had a cleverer companion.

As though to illustrate this point, he turned to her and demanded, ‘Has this castle gone mad?’

Lae snatched his arm and led him away from the hatchway through which they’d descended. The stones beneath their feet were damp even at this height above the ocean and Lae kept her attention on her footing, speaking quickly as they walked. ‘The Light has run away,’ she told Pagan. ‘My father’s men are searching for her, yet I wish to find her first and discover her purpose.’

She held fast onto his arm, thinking he would baulk at this news, yet instead Pagan replied, ‘She was not to leave the castle until Talis came back for her.’

Lae wrenched him to a stop. ‘You knew of this?’ she said, then shook his arm. ‘Talis knew?’

‘Keep your voice low, fool,’ he said, and pulled away. ‘Your precious father did not keep our Princess in his luxurious chambers, but in the lofty seclusion of his Hightower where she fell into despair and grief that would strain a warrior’s heart. Your betrothed only found her there and seeks now to aid her escape. He is her Champion after all,’ Pagan added.

‘He will go against my father —’

‘And the King.’

Lae shook her head, awed at the heavy matter so close at hand which she had not suspected. ‘Everyone will be against them. Where will they go?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘The Light cannot return to Magoria. Talis must find a way to keep her safe here, in Ennae, at least until the child is born.’

‘Months …’ Lae glanced away, her gaze falling onto the stone wall lit by the flickering light of Pagan’s torch. ‘My father will not let me marry anyone who goes against him,’ she said softly. ‘I will be given to Sh’hale.’ She shivered at this thought, the fleeting excitement of their meeting in the Volcastle gardens turning now to apprehension.

Her father had been false with her. With Khatter. The memory of his swirling aura which had so terrified Lae came and went. Would Sh’hale, when he was her husband, prove false as well? Perhaps Talis had good cause to despise him. ‘I am lost,’ she whispered, and though she had never thought to show Pagan such weakness, tears came to her face and she covered them with her hands. In clumsy comfort, his arm came about her shoulders.

‘There are fates worse than marrying Sh’hale,’ he assured her, yet she could only shake her head.

‘Worse than marrying a stranger? A man my betro … your own cousin despises?’ The realisation that she could not call Talis her betrothed any more brought fresh tears to her eyes.

‘Would it not be worse to marry a man whom you, yourself despise?’ Pagan replied, yet she heard kindness in his voice, and felt his arm tighten on her shoulder. ‘Despite my best protestations, my wretched cousin made me promise I would claim your hand to save you from Sh’hale.’

A smile edged these words and Lae felt her agitation subsiding. She wiped her eyes. ‘You?’ she said, looking up at him. ‘Marry you?’

‘Trust me, Cous,’ he said, the familial greeting seeming to come easily to his lips, ‘You are not the betrothed I had sought cither, yet I do not run from my duty and neither should you.’

‘It is not my duty to marry you,’ she replied, yet there was not the acid edge to her voice that was often her way with him. Instead, there seemed an amicability about this exchange which was new and not unpleasant. Lae had not imagined herself married to anyone but Talis, yet now she did imagine, glancing at Pagan with curious eyes, noticing the solid similarities between the cousins.

Pagan remembered he was touching her then and quickly dropped his arm to move half a step away. ‘I have promised my cousin you will not wed Sh’hale,’ he said firmly. ‘My path is clear. But come,’ he gestured towards the tunnel. ‘Our duty is now to The Light. We may argue about the other at our leisure.’

‘So be it,’ Lae agreed easily and they set off down the narrow tunnel, bumping each other from time to time until Pagan took her arm to keep her steps even with his own.

Lae felt a warmth from that touch, and found it difficult to keep her mind on their task. That Pagan had agreed to marry her was so startling a revelation that she could not think about her own refusal, but lingered on how he had imagined such a marriage could be undertaken. Was it to be a loveless union filled with bantering? Or had he, in the dark of night, thought of taking her to wife in just such a way as she had long dreamt a man would?

‘Talis will know nothing about this unplanned escape,’ Pagan said, shifting Lae from her introspection. ‘If we should find The Light, I must take her to him.’ He glanced at Lae. ‘You only need direct me towards the Plains —’

‘And leave you in this maze of tunnels?’ She shook her head. ‘You would be lost before you took ten paces. I will go with you and do not fear that my father will punish me,’ she said confidently. ‘I will return before I am missed.’

Pagan grudgingly nodded his agreement.

They rounded a corner together and began down a long, steep stairwell. Lae gathered her skirts and watched her footfalls carefully in the flickering torchlight. They were near the level of the ocean now and the air was damp and fetid.

‘This secret tunnel leads more quickly to the Cliffdweller trails Khatter might have taken,’ she told Pagan. ‘The tide is rising and —’

‘No doubt we will be trapped.’

Lae surprised herself by smiling at his jibe. ‘Perhaps it is only you who will be trapped,’ she said. ‘And I will be the warrior to rescue The Light.’

Pagan shook his head, yet she saw a smile on his lips. ‘I fear that your warrior brain yet lacks the muscle to fight off Be’uccdha guardsmen if they should cross our path,’ he said, then asked more seriously, ‘Are you prepared to go against the men of your own House?’

‘If my father has mistreated his wife I will do whatever is necessary to help her escape,’ Lae said firmly.

Pagan glanced at her a moment, as though surprised that she would so readily believe ill of her father. Lae did not want to believe, but knew she must accept the truth if she was confronted by it.

‘Perhaps I will still need your muscles,’ she said briskly, and putting aside thoughts of her father they continued in solemn silence. At last she slowed Pagan’s steps with a hand on his arm. ‘We come near the Cliffdweller tunnels where my secret friend would often wait for me,’ she whispered. ‘It is near the main tunnel and sounds can be heard from it. We must be most quiet.’

Pagan looked at Lae anew. ‘You met with a secret lover in these tunnels?’ he whispered.

Lae pinched his arm. ‘Fool,’ she hissed. ‘A Cliffdweller playmate. Hush. A girl of my age.’

Pagan frowned. ‘Then why was it a secret?’

‘Because my father —’ Lae closed her mouth, smiled broadly and turned to her left. ‘My friend,’ she said, and gestured to the shadows from which Hush stepped, golden limbs glowing in the torchlight.

Hush danced over with her graceful tiptoe gait and enfolded Lae in an embrace, her coarse seaweed fibre dress scraping Lae’s arms. She was careful to keep her delicate nub-feet away from where Lae could step on them.

‘What are you doing here?’ Lae asked her.

‘They do not speak,’ Pagan said, as though she was stupid.

Lae ignored him and watched as Hush held a finger to her lips, then gestured for them to follow her. Lae immediately set off behind her with Pagan starting after them a second later.

‘Where is she taking us?’ he demanded.

Hush flittered her fingers around her eyes and then swam them gracefully from her brow to shoulders, as though to straighten her halo of bushy curls into a sleeker style. She gestured ahead and danced on. Lae looked to Pagan and shrugged. ‘Perhaps she has seen The Light.’

‘Or leads us into a trap,’ Pagan muttered, but followed behind them, the trail Hush was leading them on heading ever lower until their path joined a tunnel that curved steeply down. So quickly did they change tunnels, Lae found she had become quite lost.

Eventually Pagan’s patience ran out. He caught Lae’s arm. ‘Do you trust this one?’ he asked, nodding towards Hush.

‘Yes.’ Lae kept her feet moving, and Pagan’s with her. Their secret flight through these tunnels brought back memories of her journey to the Shrine and the many sacrifices Hush had made to ensure her safety. Fear of her father had loomed large in her mind then. She had forgotten how large, had suppressed the thought. It reminded Lae of how The Light must feel, alone in unfamiliar tunnels, fearful of capture.

Pagan interrupted her speculation. ‘I have not heard of anyone who had friends among the Cliffdwellers,’ he said, gazing suspiciously at Hush. ‘They cannot even speak —’

‘Her hands speak,’ Lae said. ‘And my mouth moves enough for us both.’ She invited Pagan to join her in this joke and his slow smile of appreciation at her wit was a different smile from any Lae had accepted from him in the past. No trace of sarcasm lay in its depths and the dimples which he had inherited from his cousin were very clear. Though it was untimely and unfitting, Lae found herself quite overcome by the curve of his lips.

As though noticing her interest, his smile widened and Lae sensibly shifted her gaze to Hush trotting down the tunnel immediately before her, one that Lae now recognised as being close to the main tunnel. Some time later she roused herself from thoughts of Pagan and a marriage bed to say, ‘The exit from this secret tunnel is covered by a boulder you may use your muscles to shift. I will offer no competition.’