Page 138 of The Courting of Bristol Keats
She sat at the table to study the note one more time.Brije.It was her father’s pet name for her. No one else knew it besides Cat and Harper. And the note was in her father’s neat script.He was alive.But her relief was tempered by wariness. Go alone? Tell no one? That part felt like a trap. And yet.
All her reasoning ended this way. And yet.
My life depends on your silence.
It was her father pleading for help. Somehow, he had received news that she was there. Her forays into the city and countryside hadn’t been for nothing after all. This wasn’t a note she could afford to ignore—or apparently share, either.Why?He was afraid.
She remembered Eris making them all swear an oath of silence, keeping news of Cael a secret, even from the council. News could spread quickly there.
The words from the note glared up at her.Do not share it with anyone.
How would she even get to this faraway place where he was hiding? It was almost sixty miles away. A carriage would take hours and—
But there might be a way. If she was willing to take a chance.
And she was.
She put her boots back on, then rummaged through Tyghan’s things in the wardrobe. He had several small knives in a drawer. She took one of them, and also his short sword hanging from a hook. What else did she need?Magic.She had to be prepared to use what little magic she had mastered, and other than closing the portal, she hadn’t practiced any in days. Levitation? Glamour? Summoning objects?
Fire, she thought. Fire was a good deterrent. She eyed the unused bath she had drawn, dried petals and foamy swirls of oil floating on the top. “Ante feru la—” She hadn’t even finished her spell for fire, or drawn her hands together to direct the chant, when the water erupted into a blazing inferno. A blast of heat hit her face, and flames licked upward to the coffered ceiling, singeing it black. “Treima! Treima!” she shouted.Die.The flames immediately vanished, but not without leaving their smoky print above the tub. Her heart raced. That had never happened before. Previously she had only created small, tame flames on candles. This fire was anything but tame. What had she done wrong? She wished she knew a command for erase or repair, but there wasn’t time to worry about the ceiling.
She headed for the door, and as she passed her tray, she grabbed an apple, because it was possible, likely even, that she was going to need it.
CHAPTER 94
Tyghan couldn’t remember the last time he had dozed off in the middle of the day. He had seen Kasta slumped over on the table using her crossed arms as a pillow and Quin leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed and mouth open, all the knights in their own form of repose, resting for just a few minutes after their midday meal. Tyghan had only slouched back in his chair for a moment to mull over their discussions when he felt someone shaking his shoulder. He startled awake, his boots dropping from the table to the floor with a loud thud. It was Dalagorn.
“What?” Tyghan asked trying to get oriented. “What is it?”
“Master Woodhouse is at the door. Something he needs to tell you.”
Now? But Tyghan rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Bring him in.”
Master Woodhouse shuffled in because the old spriggan never rushed, but the bright color of his flora showed that he was distressed. By then, all the officers had lifted their heads, alert and curious.
“What’s wrong?” Tyghan asked.
“It’s August. He’s gone. His saddle is gone, too. I was at the other end of the stable grooming Fenella, and when I finished and walked past his stall, it was empty.”
“Someonestolehis horse?” Cully blurted out.
Tyghan was confused. No one took the king’s horse. Not if they wanted to live. Besides, August would never leave with anyone else, anyway—but he might go visit a mare in another meadow. It was spring, after all. Maybe the old spriggan just overlooked the saddle? “I’m sure he hasn’t gone far. Probably just—”
“He’s gone,” Master Woodhouse reiterated firmly. “I think your friend took him.”
Tyghan leaned forward. “My friend?”
“The recruit. Miss Keats. She strolled in while I was on my way to groom Fenella. I thought she was just stopping by to chat a bit with August. She had an apple in her hand. He’s become fond of her, I think. He might go with her, especially since she just returned on his back today. I saw her scratching his ears. He seemed to like it.”
Bristol? Left with August? Tyghan stood there for a moment, still thinking there had to be a mistake. He told her not to go anywhere. To stay in her room. And she had agreed. Where would she go, anyway? Why would she . . .Something was wrong.
His first thought jumped to Kormick. He should have walked her all the way back to her room. He shot to his feet and ordered Dalagorn to check the palace gates. “See if anyone saw her leave.” He headed for the door. “I’ll check her room.” Instead of walking, Tyghan nightjumped to the palace wing that held her chamber and ran the rest of the way, leaving his knights to catch up to him. He stumbled into her room and immediately noted the silence. Her bed was empty, the bath chamber quiet. No running water. No footsteps. But a smell. Smoke and ash. A fist tightened between his ribs.
His gaze circled the room, searching for any clue of where she had gone—or who might have forced her to leave. Her food tray appeared untouched. When he went into the bath chamber, his attention immediately landed on the black ash floating on a full tub of water, and then darted to the scorched ceiling. His worst fears stabbed his throat. Something had happened. He scanned the rest of the chamber, not even admitting to himself that he was looking for blood. It didn’t matter that Master Woodhouse had seen her stroll into the barn,somethinghad forced her to leave, and the ash and smoke confirmed it began in this room. The entire room looked untouched, except for splashed water around the basin and—
Her brush.He spotted it on her dressing table, askew. She’d had time to use it, and by its appearance, she had vigorously attacked her hair. Broken strands were woven through the bristles.Fresh hair.
He grabbed the brush but heard the echo of Eris’s voice lecturing him when he tried to take Bristol’s lock at Timbercrest Castle.Don’t do it. It’s too risky. Somehow, you’ve managed to close your mind to the remaining demons. You can’t open new doors at this point and make it easy for them to find their way back in.
