Gifted Page 2

  “Let’s play some more games, Chelsey,” Donnic said.

  She gazed longingly toward the performance tent, then shrugged. “You play this time, Kelwin. Something to prove you’re as smart as Donnic is strong.”

  Kelwin laughed as they began to walk back toward the games. “That’s something I don’t have to prove.”

  As they neared a booth boasting games of dexterity, his body suddenly jerked with a shot of electricity.

  “Kelwin?” he heard his sister say as if from far away.

  He couldn’t answer. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled as a hot prickling sensation filled his body. It was as if lightning zinged over his skin.

  He closed his eyes and tried to focus. He could feel a storm coming. It was far from where he stood, yet the impression was stronger than any he’d ever felt through direct contact. The sting of the Lotherin girl’s touch was nothing compared to this.

  His stomach roiled, threatening to bring up the meat pie he’d eaten. He clutched the nearest post, breathing through his mouth as he rode a wave of crashing thunder that shook his limbs.

  “Are you all right?” Donnic asked.

  “Y-yeah.” Kelwin focused on the rough wood of the post beneath his palms, squeezing hard as he tried to keep himself grounded. He opened his eyes and let out a breath. “I’m fine,” he said, his throat tight.

  “What’s wrong?” Chelsey asked. “You went stark white.”

  He shook his head. The sensation was quickly fading to a dull rumbling at the back of his mind. “Nothing’s wrong. I just felt… I don’t know what I felt.”

  They both frowned at him.

  “I’m fine,” he said again, straightening.

  “Well, you look a little better,” Chelsey said with obvious relief.

  Donnic studied him for a minute. “Let’s go play the games.”

  Kelwin silently thanked Donnic for distracting his sister. As they made their way toward the gaming booths, he tried to figure out what happened. He’d never felt anything so strong, let alone with no one touching him. Could it be a delayed reaction to the Lotherin girl’s touch? It didn’t feel like it. He’d sensed nothing but greed from her. No, this was different, like a storm was coming in spite of the clear and starry sky above him.

  What would the storm bring? He had no idea, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he would soon find out.

  ***

  Alyssa tried to think of a way out. She’d found a strength she hadn’t known she had and pushed a stout chest in front of the door but now she was out of ideas.

  “Alyssa,” Thomas whispered from the dark corner she’d put him in.

  “Hush, Thomas,” she whispered back.

  Thunder crashed outside the thick walls, but she didn’t hear any rain.

  “Alyssa, let me in,” Dalton said.

  “No!” she called out.

  He muttered a curse. She winced and another clap of thunder shook the keep. A quick glance around the room showed she had nothing to use as a weapon.

  She had to get out of here, her and Thomas both. Dalton was her brother’s guardian, as strange as that still seemed to her. If he treated her like this, what would he do to her brother? Merrickwood was a valuable estate, in spite of the years of strain from King Jerrus’s demands. Dalton had settled in as master quickly enough.

  “Alyssa,” Dalton said, his voice as smooth as the stone floor beneath her feet. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “There’s everything to be afraid of,” she said softly.

  She could guess what Dalton wanted. Now she knew what that icky feeling meant. God, he was twice her age!

  She backed away from the door, and searched for escape in the dimly-lit room. The one small window wouldn’t work. Even if she found a way to push herself out of it she’d fall to her death far below.

  “Go away!” she yelled.

  Another curse met her ears. The scratching gave way to knocking, which soon became pounding.

  “Let me in, Alyssa!” Dalton shouted. “You’re mine now. You and Thomas both.”

  Her heart clenched. Dalton couldn’t know Thomas hid in her room! Her gaze fell on the melting candles in the iron stand beside the bed. She was happy now she’d insisted on using candles in her room. She didn’t like the too-bright electric lights or the buzzing sound they made. She felt a glimmer of hope as she saw the pools of melted wax. If she could throw the wax at him maybe she’d be able to lift the stand and hit him with it. But would it be enough to knock him out so they could escape?

  “Okay,” she said, hoping he didn’t hear her disgust. “I’ll let you in.”

  She could almost see Dalton’s slick smile through the wooden door.

  “There’s the sweet child I’ve known these past few months,” he said. “There’s my girl.”

  She pushed the chest aside, and barely cleared the door before Dalton pushed it open. Hurrying to the candles, she lifted one in its bowl and stepped back.

  “Alyssa.” Dalton stepped closer. He’d taken off his jacket, and now wore the enamel pin above his heart on his white shirt. The jewels set in the crown caught the light from the candles. “Ah, you look so pretty there in the candlelight.”

  Alyssa swallowed a groan of disgust. Please stay quiet, Thomas.

  “The room is dark, Lord Dalton,” she whispered.

  His gaze flicked toward Thomas’s hiding place before running slowly over her. Her head began to pound again and she gasped.

  “I bet you’re even prettier than your mother was.”

  Hurt flickered through her, faint but still very real.

  “Don’t speak of my mother!” Alyssa shouted.

  Dalton’s dark eyes flashed dangerously as a clap of thunder struck her ears. “I came here as a friend to your father. And yet you harbor your dislike of me, my dear girl?”

  She nodded, then forced herself to appear helpless again. “You’re not the friend you pretend to be.”

  “I’ve wanted you from the first time we met, Alyssa.” He shrugged and stepped closer. “Only my friendship with your father—”

  “You were no friend to my father,” she cut in. “You want to use me.”

  “Yes.” Dalton laughed. “In more ways than you know.”

  She glanced down at the fat candle, and at the wax that now filled the bowl nearly to overflowing. And when Dalton came close enough, she threw the wax at him.

  Howling, he covered his face with his hands. “Bitch!” he screamed. “My face!”

  He groped blindly for her and she froze. She heard a whoosh as blistering heat struck her. Flames rose from the wax at Dalton’s feet, filling the room with smoke. He waved his arms and lurched toward her, screaming her name.

  She ran away from him. “Thomas!”

  “Alyssa!” her brother cried, running from his hiding place.

  “Thomas, let’s go!”

  She took his hand and ran from the room as the flames roared and crackled behind them. Her breath hitched in her chest. Where would they go?

  It didn’t matter. Anywhere was better than here.

  ***

  Alyssa held Thomas close to her as another night folded in around them. He looked so young when he slept, like the baby she’d taken care of after their mother died. His sleep seemed easy, and she was grateful that at least he wasn’t reliving that last night at Merrickwood again.

  After running from Dalton she’d rushed to the servants’ quarters. The maids found some clothes and blankets for both of them and sent them into the night, with tears in their eyes and prayers of thanks that she and Thomas were getting away from Dalton. She hadn’t realized how miserable the servants were under him.

  They’d left Merrickwood six days ago. She still couldn’t believe what happened in her room. How had the wax caught fire like that? The image of Dalton, batting away at the flames as he tried to catch her, still made her cringe. She was sure that she and Thomas escaped more than whatever Dalton had planned that night.

/>   Staring up at the sky overhead, she guessed they would probably reach the nearest estate by tomorrow night. They’d hitched a ride on a cart two days ago, and learned that Rosemont wasn’t far so long as they kept moving east. She was grateful that her father had taught her how to tell directions. How to know where in the sky the sun would be at certain times of year and certain times of day. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Keeping to the cracked and blistered pavement of this road had been pretty easy. She just prayed Dalton wasn’t looking for them.

  Pushing at the pack of clothes beneath her head, she tried to get more comfortable. Thomas slept like a rock, just like their father always had. The night was chilly but thankfully there was little breeze. The soft trill of crickets reached her and the smell of crisp fallen leaves filled her nose as she took in a calming breath.

  For almost a week now she’d held her heart in her throat. Her head was filled with a dull ache. She couldn’t shake the feeling she was being chased. At last tonight, with the still air and soft night sounds, the sensation wasn’t so choking. Since she rarely gave herself the luxury to do so, tonight she thought about her mother.

  She’d been gone for so long. Had she been a restless sleeper like Alyssa? Her memories of Mama had faded over the years. A whiff of the lavender she favored, a brush of her gentle fingers as she braided Alyssa’s hair. She remembered kneeling on a stool in the kitchen and watching her mother help the cooks with their meals.

  Everyone loved her, especially Papa. Maybe if she’d lived her father wouldn’t have become friends with Dalton. Dalton was slick and smooth and said all the right things, but maybe her mother would have gotten the same impression of him that Alyssa always had. That nasty feeling she could never shake.

  He admitted he wanted to use her. In more ways than you know, he’d said. What could that mean? She prayed she never had to find out.

  As sleep finally began to wrap around her, she heard the rumble of thunder and wondered how that could be. The sky was crystal clear.

  By the next evening, she was ready to drop on her feet or scream to the skies. Thomas had been as good as a little boy could be on such a long trip, but his endless questions were now beginning to get on her nerves. They’d passed through farmland that afternoon, with dusty-looking cottages and dustier-looking people. They looked tired and didn’t pay her or Thomas much attention. Why would they? With a pack thrown over her shoulder and their creased and dirty clothes, she and her brother had to look like street beggars by now.

  At last Rosemont came into view. It stood on a large hill, and she knew the ocean was just below. As she neared the estate she could smell the salty tang of sea water and hear the breaking waves below the cliffs. A lone gull cried out, its call mournful. She shivered and drew Thomas closer.

  The house was made of rough stones, and had obviously been built on the foundation of whatever had stood there centuries before the volcanoes, tidal waves and earthquakes caused by the Cataclysmic Wars destroyed all modern structures. It was how Merrickwood had risen, in the footprint of some ancient castle. The sky above the house was cloudy now, with neither stars nor moon to relieve the murk of the coming night. Rosemont drew her, though. As if she recognized it. She shook her head. She must be more exhausted than she thought.

  A guard stood at the entry, a tall man maybe twenty-five years old. The armor on his broad body was worn but it looked well cared for. He had a dark scruffy beard and short hair. He studied the woods beyond the estate’s walls then brought his sharp gaze to them. He didn’t look surprised. He must have been watching them approach.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “I’m…” She thought furiously. She couldn’t use her name or title. Word could get back to Dalton. “I’m Lisa and this is my little brother.”

  He ran his eyes over them both, obviously seeing the dirt from the road and the simplicity of their clothes. “What do you want?”

  She chewed her lip as she thought of some reason to come to a strange house. “I’m looking for work in the kitchen.”

  The statement came out naturally, thank God. It was probably because she’d been thinking of being in the kitchen with her mother last night.

  He looked her over again, then shrugged. “Go in and ask a maid to see the cook.”

  Alyssa let out a breath and smiled. “Thank you.”

  He nodded as his gaze went to the woods again. Did he worry about attack? It had only been a couple of weeks since the reaping, but maybe Rosemont paid a steeper tariff to the king than Merrickwood ever had. She was relieved to find the place was carefully guarded, though.

  As she urged Thomas ahead of her, she leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Please keep quiet, Thomas. We need a safe place to stay and Rosemont will do.”

  Chapter 3

  Kelwin stared at his father’s sword, hung in its place of honor above the hearth. No one had touched it since it had been returned to Rosemont from Lotherin, along with his body. He’d died at court. Had too much to drink and slipped and hit his head, they’d been told. No one at Rosemont believed it then, and Kelwin didn’t believe it now. He’d never seen the baron drunk.

  His father had gone there to negotiate the reaping payments for that season, and for the first time he’d shared with his son his anger over the unreasonable tariffs the king demanded. Not for the first time, Kelwin wondered if his father was killed because of it.

  Training had been rough today, just the way he liked it. Michal, Rosemont’s man-at-arms, led Kelwin and Donnic through their workout. Kelwin liked working his body to keep his mind quiet. Now his muscles still ached, helping to distract him from the continuing rumble of distant thunder he still felt. Since the night he’d gone to the festival he’d felt that odd buzzing of tension. Sparring with Donnic, physically and verbally, helped keep the sensations at bay. Now that he was bathed and dressed for dinner, waiting for his family to join him, there was nothing else to distract him but the mystery of his father’s last trip to Lotherin. Had he complained and been punished?

  There had been a man from an estate to the north at the harvest festival a year ago, complaining about the high cost of living under King Jerrus’s rule. He’d run the leathercraft booth, and told any who would listen that he’d had to strike out on his own to make enough money to feed his family. The next night they’d gone to the festival, that booth was closed tight. When Chelsey asked where he’d gone the other tradesmen and women each had a different answer. He’d returned to the north. He’d sold all his wares and saw no need to stick around. He’d decided to join a festival to the west. None of the stories rang true to Kelwin, since he’d felt their ice-cold fear even as they spoke like it was no big deal.

  Donnic came to stand next to him. “Are you as hungry as I am?”

  Kelwin nodded, brushing his damp hair off his forehead. “More. Michal wore me out today.”

  “You’re getting stronger.” Donnic studied him with blue eyes like his own. “We all have our gifts, Kelwin. Some are luckier than others.”

  Kelwin was struck by his statement. Did Donnic really think Kelwin was luckier than he was? Or did Donnic mean those not gifted were better off than both of them?

  “Don’t talk about this here,” Kelwin said.

  Donnic shrugged. “I talked to a guy at the festival who knew the leathercrafter from last year.”

  Kelwin blinked at him. He leaned closer. “When?”

  “After your…whatever.” He shrugged. “While you and Chelsey were at the games.”

  His…whatever. That sounded about right. “What did he say?”

  “Nobody’s seen him since that night.”

  Maybe it was because he was just thinking about his father’s trip to Lotherin, but Kelwin felt the thunder rumble louder. Could the storm he felt be related to whatever went on at court? Lotherin was more than a hundred miles from Terelden, and Kelwin had no connection to that place.

  “You’ve been there, Donnic,” he said. “To Lotherin.”

 
A shadow passed over his cousin’s face. “My parents took me to court when I was seven.”

  “What did you see there? Do you remember?”

  “I don’t remember much.” He shook his head. “I know my parents fought while we were there.”

  This was news to Kelwin. Donnic’s father was his father’s brother and the men had been a lot alike, steady-tempered but quick to smile. He didn’t remember much about his aunt, though. “What did they fight about?”

  “Me, I think. I hid under the covers. I never heard them fight before.”

  Kelwin thought for a minute. Donnic’s parents died over ten years ago, of a fever that almost killed Donnic too. He’d always been close to his cousin, since Donnic was only one year older, and when he moved into Rosemont it was like Kelwin got a brother.

  “They fought over you?”

  Donnic shrugged again but Kelwin sensed a whisper of the pain he still felt about it.

  “Yeah.” He made a nudging motion toward Kelwin with his shoulder, stopping just short of contact. It was something he always did and Kelwin took it for the brotherly tap it would have been. “Let’s eat while we have food.”

  “We’ll have food this winter,” Kelwin said as they made their way toward the family table. “At least we can hunt.”

  “You’re deadly with that crossbow,” Donnic said. “I could go for some boar steaks. Hell, I’d even take rabbit.”

  “And my mother keeps that garden in the back.”

  A hidden garden, with root vegetables and herbs, nothing that would stand out. It wasn’t much but at least it gave their winter’s table some variety.

  “Good eve, Kelwin,” he heard his sister call.

  He smiled at her and their mother, then stepped up to the table. He could smell the rich stew that would soon come from the kitchen and the yeasty scent of the bread already in baskets on the table. He sat as the maids brought out their dinner.

  The family would be served first, though that tradition seemed dumb to him. Nothing really distinguished the baron’s family much from the soldiers and servants at the estate, except maybe their clothes were a little better. But tradition must be upheld, or so King Jerrus demanded. Tenants and soldiers answered to their baron who in turn deferred to the king. Kelwin doubted anyone would know if they broke the custom, but who knew? The king could have spies anywhere.