Rebel's Cage (Book 4) (10 page)

It was empty and deserted; that was all he knew. Neither Selar nor Kenrick had given the place to some lord they wished to reward. Why was that? It was certainly the custom to confiscate the lands and wealth of a disgraced lord and pass them on. Robert had not been disgraced, but he’d certainly committed treason.

But of course, Kenrick was afraid of Robert.

So the Enclave was as close to home Finnlay would get until either Kenrick was dead – or Nash – or someone finally found the Calyx and released them all from this prison.

Finnlay watched heavy clouds drape themselves low over the mountains with a kind of curious fascination. The higher they climbed, the darker and colder and windier it got. The entire vista was a vast collection of shades of grey, from the shale mountains to the sky so close. The air itself seemed equally uncommitted.

He was growing to hate this view.

At least they would be inside before it snowed, which would be soon. He just wanted to get off this horse, kiss his wife and get his daughter to safety. He wouldn’t relax until then.

Tired but excited chatter grew up behind him as they turned the final corner in the path. The huge rock hiding the entrance to the Enclave loomed before him, pressed hard against the sheer face of the Goleth itself. With barely contained impatience, Finnlay led them inside the first tunnel, allowed the wash of the gate to pass over his skin and then he was out again, in the last threads of daylight, and dismounting at the edge of the open field hidden atop the mountain.

There were people waiting for them: Arlie’s beautiful wife, Martha, and the parents of the other children. Greetings were called out, welcomes given with smiles and hugs. One by one the horses were taken away to the stables. As a group, they all began walking towards the heavy wooden doors that would take them below, and as he watched, Fiona emerged with a smile and a wave. Finnlay would have gone to her then, but Martha grabbed his sleeve.

‘Finn, Jenn, wait.’

He turned to find her expression sombre. She checked to ensure she would not be overheard, then turned back to Jenn. ‘I just wanted to tell you, before it becomes common knowledge.’

‘Before what becomes common knowledge?’ Jenn frowned.

Martha took her husband’s hand and squeezed it for comfort, but there was clear worry in her eyes. ‘I don’t understand it at all – Osbert has made some radical changes.’

Finnlay raised his eyebrows. ‘Osbert? You mean changes within the Guilde?’

Taking a deep breath, Martha whispered, ‘According to new Guilde laws, it’s no longer a crime to be a sorcerer. In effect … we’re free to leave the Enclave.’

‘Are you serious?’ Jenn could barely keep her voice soft. ‘How do you know?’

Martha’s gaze remained steady. ‘Men bringing up the last few shipments of goods before winter. They heard rumours and thought—’

‘Rumours!’ Finnlay interrupted. ‘We can’t go chasing after—’

‘Hush, Finn,’ Jenn put a hand on his arm to calm him before he could react too strongly.

In the silence, Martha continued, ‘I asked Micah to go down into the valleys to try to get some confirmation. As official as he could manage without giving our interest away. We’re expecting him back early tomorrow, but I can’t guess what he will return with.’

Jenn nodded slowly, but couldn’t dismiss the roiling discomfort seated deep in her belly. She
should
be greeting this as though it were good news, but her instincts were screaming otherwise. ‘Call a Council meeting for the morning. Until then, try to keep this as quiet as possible – though I imagine that’s going to be difficult. Still, I don’t want people panicking or otherwise until we have some firm information.’

‘So you don’t think—’

Jenn held up her hand, looking pointedly at Finnlay. ‘I refuse to form an opinion at this stage. We need some rest. And we need to keep clear heads. We’ll know exactly what we have to worry about when Micah gets back, and not before. Now go and get some supper, and then get some sleep.’

For a moment, Finnlay didn’t move; the others waited as though taking an invisible cue from him. Then he gave her a short nod, turned and put an arm around Fiona’s waist, pressed a kiss to her cheek. He said a crisp goodnight and
moved away, releasing the others – but leaving Jenn with the feeling that she’d just been silently rebuked.

*

Dark shadows swirled through her sleep, echoing some mournful cry barely heard but felt, like a tremor, or an ache bone-deep. Ancient time caught up with her, held her hostage and mocked her, screaming silent insults into her face that left her struggling against invisible bonds. She closed her eyes.

She could feel it, there, a little behind her, like a real shadow, solid and dimensional: the Key’s presence. It was joined to her, as she was to it, as though they shared the same heart, the same blood, and it shifted between them, keeping them both alive, wounding one where the other hurt.

It gave her some comfort, this Key, soothed her, mellowed out the edges of the terrible dreams, but left her aching with another older, more impossible need, and it was the contrast between the two that woke her, left her gasping in air and fighting back tears.

He’d warned her. He’d tried to tell her that it was a mistake and now, once again, it looked like he was right and she, in her ignorance, in her determination to make something of her own life, had made the mistake once more of not trusting him, of not believing in him.

Swallowing hard, she threw the blankets back and swung her legs over the side of the bed. With angry hands she swiped the moisture from her cheeks and paused long enough to listen for early morning sounds.

She could hear nothing from Andrew’s room, so she stood and dressed quickly, pulling her hair back from her face, ridding herself of its softness. Then, moving as silently as she knew how, she left her bedroom, crossed the living area and slipped out into the corridor before Andrew could stir and ask her what she was doing.

She gave no thought to the path to the great cavern. She could do it in her sleep, blind and deaf. There was something in the Key that warned her always where it was, even if it wasn’t speaking directly to her. So she made the turns she needed, passing no others in the early morning until she
paused upon the threshold, her gaze going out to the dais, and the shadows left by oil lamps hanging from the cave roof far above.

The Key. Always changing and yet never changing. It stood there alone, both innocent and worldly-wise: a bell hanging from a wrought-iron pyramid decorated in leaves or something. But when she woke it, the first miracle would occur and the bell would transform itself into an orb, glistening and shining as though wet, and she would speak to it, hear its replies whispered or thundered inside her own head, where nobody else could hear.

He’d told her it was their enemy, had said she should stay away from it, and had risked so much to keep her safe from it. But she’d come back here of her own volition, certain somehow, that he was wrong and that she – whose powers were so different and so much stronger than all but his – that she was the one destined to wield the Key as was foretold.

It came as little comfort to know Robert would feel no satisfaction to be proved right once more.

Her feet took her forward, her soft leather sandals scraping against the stone floor like a whispering reminder of pains long past. In her mind, she collected together the words, sorting and discarding, framing and building, putting all the effort she could into finding the exact combination that would extract the information necessary and prove once and for all, that she
hadn’t
failed, and that she was indeed the one to wield the Key as was foretold.

I come with a question.

Then ask,
the Key replied as softly as she.

Where is the Calyx?

And as always, the reply was only silence. Unsurprised, Jenn continued,
Do you know where it is? Can you tell me anything about it? What it looks like? What we are supposed to do with it? Can the Calyx truly show us the way to live outside the Enclave without fear and in safety?

The Key paused before answering, as though it were pondering these questions she had asked so many times before.
The Enclave is safety. We keep you protected within it.

Swallowing her frustration, Jenn took a step forward, but stopped short of the dais, not wishing to wake the Key properly and alert the entire Enclave to her continued failure.
Do you even know what the Calyx is?

There was another long pause. She kept her silence, ignoring the room behind her, where the Council would gather soon, and where she would have to admit, once more, that she had failed them as Jaibir, that the Key had not chosen wisely when it had picked her to lead them.

All the records they had of the Key, and of the Calyx, said the same thing: the Calyx would free them – and the Key would tell them where it was, as long as it was wielded by the right person. Everyone –
everyone
had believed Jenn to be that person. But, eight years later, she was still asking the same questions, still getting the same non-answers.

She must have done something wrong somewhere along the line. There were, after all, no instructions on the use of the Key. Each Jaibir did the best they could – but Jenn had expected so much more of herself, and only Robert had had the wisdom to doubt.

Silence.

Damn it!

In a few hours she would have to face the Council, field questions, come up with ideas and provide leadership in a situation over which she had no control.
You do this deliberately, don’t you?

We answer your questions.

And yet you don’t. You never tell me anything about the Calyx. Why?

Which question? We have answered everything you have asked.

No, you haven’t! I’ve tried a hundred different combinations of the same question, but you refuse to tell me the one thing I want to know! Why?

There was another long pause. The response, when it came, was quiet and almost puzzled.
We can find no unanswered question. We do not always understand what you ask.

Taking a deep breath for patience, Jenn clasped her hands together.
Very well. You know the word Calyx?

Yes.

Do you know what it means?

A calyx is a shape, a cavity or receptacle.

So that’s what we’re looking for? A receptacle? Answer me!

You have not asked a question.

Are you protecting the Calyx? Is that it? Robert said you never meant us to have the Calyx. Is that what you’re doing? Protecting it from us? Because … because we’d ruin it or something?

She came to a halt, squeezing her eyes shut against the answer she knew was coming.

The Enclave is safety. We keep you protected within it. You should not fear.

I’m not scared, damn it! Not for me!
She pulled in a breath then let it out slowly, forcing herself to release the frustration, to turn away from the anger.

It would do no good. There was no point to her trying further. Whatever it was the Key was hiding, she did not have the ability to uncover it.

Do not worry, Little One, Ally. We are here.

The unsolicited comfort brought an ironic smile to her face. She turned, ready to go find some breakfast, only to discover Finnlay standing in the doorway, leaning against the stone, arms folded.

‘Good morning.’

Jenn sighed. ‘Please, Finn, don’t start.’

He raised his eyebrows at her, neither hard nor mocking. ‘I see. Is it something we can discuss over a cup of brew?’

*

It was still so early that the refectory had barely registered the new day. Fresh bread had been baked and Finnlay collected a few slices, along with honey and two mugs of minted brew. He brought the tray back to the bench table where Jenn sat and laid the things out. He didn’t speak until he’d taken a bite of bread and honey, until he’d washed the night’s cobwebs from his mind with the hot drink.

Where, in the name of the gods, had he finally learned patience from?

‘I take it,’ he said between mouthfuls, watching her, ‘that the
Key was no more forthcoming on the subject of the Calyx than it has been in the past?’

Jenn pushed wisps of escaped hair back from her face and pulled a crust from the warm bread. Then, her eyes down and nibbling on the food, she recounted the conversation.

‘I don’t know … I can’t help thinking that if I could just find the right combination of words. But it’s so …’

‘Childish?’

‘Yes. And it never seems to change. You’d think now, after eight years of being joined to it … well,
I’ve
changed – why hasn’t the Key as well? I just … I don’t understand what it wants from me and sometimes I don’t think it understands what I want from it. It’s as though it … has this set of things it was designed to talk about, but anything outside that, it simply can’t grasp the language or something.’

Her voice was full of anguish and frustration. Finnlay looked around, but they were almost the only ones in the refectory. ‘Well, we know virtually nothing about who created the Key, or why, so anything is possible, I suppose. Since it was created using sorcery, it’s likely that it can’t be manipulated except by a set series of actions, in the same way that we use our powers.’ When Jenn glanced up at this, her expression was sceptical. ‘Look, I’m just saying that anything is possible – and therefore, you shouldn’t blame yourself if you can’t find the Calyx. It could just mean that it’s not time for us to find it or something.’

‘Except that it
does
seem to be time.’ Jenn straightened up, sipping her drink distractedly.

Finnlay pulled in a breath and dived into the icy water. ‘So, if Micah returns and tells us the Guilde
has
changed its laws, we have no way of knowing whether this has anything to do with the Calyx …’

Jenn looked up, hard, dark brows drawn together. ‘We’ll never be able to keep it a secret.’

‘Do you think we should?’

‘You’re not going to tell me you don’t think this is some kind of—’