“I’m not dead.” He held his hands out, devoid of weapons or fists. “Rill, you know I could prove it. Will you promise to let her go if I do?”
Although her hold didn’t soften, the woman’s posture changed in ways Kavya couldn’t articulate. Using her telepathy, Kavya felt a mental shift—and was gratified that her gift was not barred to every Pendray. The woman had come to the decision that violence could wait, but the minutiae of her physical cues were beyond Kavya’s grasp. She only knew Tallis to that degree. His posture said he was somewhat wary yet confident. His gaze was half amazement, half sorrow.
Twenty years. A homecoming after twenty years. Kavya’s heart was breaking for him.
“Prove it, then.” A thick brogue colored the woman’s voice with the lilting rhythm and soft vowels of the Highlands.
“When I was seven, you saved me from certain annihilation. I’d been so angry with you and Opheena that I hurled a bucket of compost at you both. It was revolting. Every table scrap for three days splattered across the kitchen’s rear wall.” He chuckled at himself—this from the man who’d been practically nonverbal upon their first meeting. He’d lived a step outside of the world back then. Now . . .
His story turned wistful in a way Kavya had yet to hear from him. “It was sunny out. Midmorning. Mrs. Garrett had finished the morning’s breakfast cleanup. I remember feeling a moment’s satisfaction as you and Feena stood there, covered in scraps. Your expressions were stunned, then livid and ready to do murder. But you decided on the worst punishment imaginable. You said you’d leave it for Father to decide. Feena agreed, practically gleeful.”
The woman, Rill, had definitely softened. Even the knife blade was not too threatening in its press against Kavya’s flesh. She wondered if she could have overpowered the woman now. Doubtful, with so much strength at the Pendray’s disposal.
Not that it mattered. She remained still. Her trust in Tallis’s abilities and her eagerness to hear the conclusion of his story trumped all.
“I ran to my room,” he said. “I knew I was doomed to stable chores for the rest of eternity. No more lessons with my fencing master. I’d only just started, but my training would end with punishment for an ignoble mistake.”
“Only . . .” Rill stopped herself.
“Only when Father came home from his rounds, I didn’t hear a thing. No rumble of his big voice through the castle walls. Hours passed. Hours. It was nearly sundown when I dared creep out of my room. You and Feena were watching a movie, both of you clean and dressed as if nothing had happened. You gave me this . . . look. And when I peeked into the kitchen, it was spotless. Every scrap gone, and every smear cleaned. I was seven. I never asked why you’d done it—just took it as a gift and grabbed a hunk of cheese and bread before running back to my room.” He stepped forward, then another step. “After all these years . . . Rill, why did you do it?”
Rill shoved Kavya away and stood toe-to-toe with Tallis. Her expression of wariness and hope made Kavya’s chest burn. The woman wanted to believe.
Despite the noticeable age difference, they looked so much alike. The same tall, lean frame. The same dark hair with silver, although Rill’s reached mid-back. Silver flecks lined the tips of each strand, as if the thick mass was decorated with a hem of lace.
“We’d teased you mercilessly,” she said quietly. Kavya worked to understand her brogue, which was thick with emotion. “You were so eager to please and impress. Every opportunity. That made it easy to make fun of you. The equivalent of a teacher’s pet, I suppose, and all the jealous classmates. You’d finished your chores early, while Feena and I had stayed late in bed, reading fashion magazines. I still remember the fury on your face, just before you hurled your best shot. Our little berserker. We were in the bathroom, cleaning that rot off us, when Feena broke down. She couldn’t let you take the blame for what we’d prompted. We were downstairs cleaning within a half hour.” A slight smile tipped the woman’s thin lips, almost an exact copy of Tallis’s smile when he was in a sarcastic mood. “Letting you squirm for most of the day, dwelling on what would’ve been your punishment . . . that was satisfying.”
“I bet it was.”
He opened his arms. Rill fell into them with a little cry, then said his name over and over. Tallis held on, arms wrapped tight, with his face tucked in her hair. He whispered Pendray words that Kavya wasn’t meant to understand. She would’ve been embarrassed to know what secret words of affection they shared.
The sight of two siblings holding each other in pure relief and happiness was more than she could take. A stab of envy left her breathless. It was a fairy tale no Indranan would ever believe. She turned away and tightened the sash of her red wool coat. The damp chill of the Highlands wasn’t as biting as the frozen Pir Panjal, but she shivered anyway.
Glancing over her shoulder, seeing Tallis still holding on to his sister for dear life, she knew it wasn’t just the misty weather that had made her shiver.
I want to be her.
Except that wasn’t true. She was Tallis’s lover. She only wanted to be held by him with that much abandon, with her love returned by the man she’d come to adore. The mental box she’d used to lock away her feelings for Tallis suddenly burst open. She would never be able to close it again.
“So who is this mysterious fey girl?” Rill asked. “A tiny thing.”
“Just watch out for the claws.” Tallis’s eyes sparkled with amusement, never looking away from Kavya. “She’s to be our guest. We were just on our way up to Clannarah.”
“I’m afraid accommodations won’t be to your expectations.”
“What do you mean?”
For the first time, Rill didn’t appear so imposing. More like furtive. “Twenty years is a long time to be gone, brother. Things have changed. For the worse, I’m sorry to say.”
Tallis’s posture seized. “Because of me.” His expression assumed a hard edge, with his mouth pinched tight and his brow a series of unrelenting lines. Kavya didn’t think that severity was meant for anyone but himself.
“Yes,” Rill said quietly. “Because of you.”
“Then put that knife to my throat instead. What’s happened? This isn’t kitchen scraps against a wall.”
“Come up to Clannarah. Some rooms remain decent. It’ll be dark soon. Remember how fast it can slink up on a body?”
Tallis nodded, his eyes focused deep within. Long memories? Regret? Worry? Nothing remained of the hopefulness he’d revealed when telling his story.
“But first, I need a name for this young woman.”
“I’m Kavya of Indranan,” she said, extending her hand.
Rill looked ruefully at her right hand, where she still gripped her dagger. She switched the weapon to her left. Even in that feature she was built like Tallis, with long fingers and rough knuckles. She was a scrapper. A fighter. Another berserker. It was hard to imagine of the older woman, who appeared haggard in ways that Dragon Kings rarely revealed. Gorgeous blue eyes were surrounded by tense lines and cupped underneath by heavy shadows.
“Sorry about twisting your arm,” Rill said. “We don’t get many visitors, and none are friendly. To say this is a surprise would be an unforgivable understatement.”
“But you’re happy to see him?”
A flash of unreadable emotion crossed Rill’s features. Then it was gone, replaced by a friendly but neutral smile. “Of course I am.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Tallis thought he was prepared for what he would see at Clannarah. Not the case. Not by a long shot.
What had once been a stately, centuries-old castle was pitted and crumbling, as if hewn of coral, not Old Red Sandstone from the Highlands. Modern amenities that had brought it into the last century—paved driveways, satellite dishes, and external lighting—were in woeful disrepair. Only one external light remained, over the portcullis they never raised. That dim beacon was unable to hold the dark at bay. Night haunted the place with demon memories of what had once been his home.