Page 15 of Lured By the Dus
“I use magic, but I can’t change the rules,” he snorted. “I can’t change something that exists beyond the foundation of the world.”
Impatiently, I tapped my foot against the stone. “What about your flute?”
“It is the conductorfor my power.”
He was so open about it and my thoughts went back to the journal. Maybe it wasn’t useless. I simply had to find out more about the Piper and how magic worked. He couldn’t be killed, but he could be weakened or put back to sleep. Surely my uncle with his sorcerers could make that happen. Then, I’d be free of him, but right back where I started under the rule of my uncle, unless I figured out how to escape from him too.
“May I see it?” I asked tentatively.
His eyes flashed, and he stepped back, as if I’d asked him something intrusive and personal. “No,” he said briskly. “Enough of this. We have work to do.”
Striding back into the room, he tugged on his boots and started for the door. “Aren’t you coming?”
Of course he’d said “we.”
I followed. “Are you going to find out what else might lurk in the castle?”
“Another time. Our business is urgent.”
Curious, I followed him out of the room.
11Tanith
The castle opened for us, bright and airy, stairs leading down instead of up, spaces still covered with dust. Oren strode with purpose, not looking to see if I followed. I paid close attention to the path we took, right out of the bedroom, down a wide flight of stairs, through another set of halls, down again, and yet again.
The main level was filthy and smelled of mold and rot. Heavy, black curtains covered the windows, blocking any traces of light as though the castle were a tomb, hiding secrets in the shadows.
Heavily decorated doors led outside, and although I’d been on the balcony, it was quite different to feel the grass beneath my feet again. I took a deep breath of the sweet summer air, tasting freedom. Thick woods rose on all sides, pine trees waving in the breeze, sending the spicy scent to my nose. The one benefit to living in Dowler versus Solynn was the wildness of the scenery and the closeness to nature. If the rules of the palace weren’t so strict, and if I hadn’t been grieving for my parents, I might have wanted to stay.
But the moment I set foot in Dowler, a sourness had tainted my sojourn and now this. Married to an inhuman and surrounded by magic. It was so horrible, I could have laughed. Back in the city, things like this did not happen.
“The woods are treacherous, in case you’re thinking of running.” Oren casually tossed the words over his shoulder.
“I wasn’t,” I lied and then added, “How come the castle opened for you?”
“Lesser magic doesn’t work on me. I suspect whoever is inside doesn’t want to test me. Did you notice anything unusual while I was… gone?”
“Everything is unusual,” I quipped. “But there was a pressure when I started going up, as if the castle didn’t want me to. And Pip wouldn’t come.”
“Hmm.” Oren grunted. “One problem at a time.”
An unwelcome house guest sounded like more than a problem, but I shrugged it off as we entered another building, a barn with swinging doors and rows of stalls. The itchy scent of hay made me want to sneeze, even though here, unlike the castle, it was clean. “Is this where you spent your time?” I asked, grumbling.
“I had the servants clean the barn first, for my familiars to return.”
The way he said familiars made me think of witches, known for having an odd alliance with wild beasts. Witches could read minds, share thoughts, and sometimes shape shift. Despite those being mere stories, in Oren’s presence, I knew there was a glimmer of truth to every old tale.
“What are your familiars?”
“Beasts of the forest, usually. It depends on who heard my call and returned.”
As he spoke, a black and white cat poked its head out of a stall and twirled around Oren’s legs, purring. He stroked its head before continuing toward the back of the stable. I glimpsed two pure white owls sitting in the rafters, asleep, as the cat disappeared back into the hay. A donkey stood in one stall, chewing and staring back at me with bored eyes. But I did not see the death horse from the night of my wedding.
Oren strode ahead while I meandered, studying the barn—the tack hanging from the wall, a ladder leading up a loft, a wheelbarrow, shovel and other gardening tools in a corner. Oren threw open double doors to reveal a workshop. I paused at the entrance, eyes widening as he revealed yet another secret.
The workshop had a table, shelves lined with cloth, and statues wearing bright clothing. It reminded me of a tailor’s shop. Perhaps Oren wasn’t just a piper bent on revenge. There was more to him, wasn’t there? Just as there was more to me. I wasn’t simply an unhappy orphan, grieving the loss of my parents and frustrated with my bad luck. I wished to be the woman I had been before my parents’ tragic death, my dreams for the future bright and unspoiled.
“You were a tailor in a past life,” I said, hoping to draw more out of Oren.
