 
Mesmer, Book 1: Sanctuary

(A Three Towers Fantasy)

by Isabella Amaris

Mesmer, Book 1: Sanctuary (A Three Towers Fantasy)

Copyright © 2012 Isabella Amaris

Cover Design Copyright © 2012 Isabella Amaris

Smashwords Edition

<http://isabellaamaris.com/>

<http://isabellaamaris.blogspot.com/>

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

Ebook Description:

A hidden kingdom in a forbidden forest. A realm she can't escape without the trust of a mage. But trust and magic make complicated allies – when time is running out.

When Lea escapes ruthless pursuers within the shadows of a dark forest, she unwittingly stumbles upon an enchanted kingdom. But Verlaine is not the sanctuary it appears to be. And when its magi sovereign refuses to let her leave, her encounters with strange sorcery and malicious fey become the least of Lea's problems.

Soon, Lea must find a way to outwit Gabriel Amarinth's web of enchantment without betraying who – and what – she really is; and before a traitor can destroy all she's fought to protect in her beloved home kingdom of Lorien.
For my mother,

for always being the woman she is.
Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

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Chapter 1

Lea's lids fluttered open. Silence hung heavy about her. She was faintly aware of being afraid, but she couldn't remember why. It took her a minute to register that it was barely dawn, and that she was in a forest with tall trees of deep emerald and a cold, sharp wind. It had stopped raining, but not for too long. Her clothes were still damp on cool skin.

Light crept across the forest floor and shone through the treetops, glittering in between the overhead canopy of leaves like diamonds in a bed of emerald velvet. The thought felt fanciful, unlike her... Had she bled out? This sense of nothingness must be the touch of death...

It was the rough gleam of something rippling gently in the distance that distracted her. A little lake lay perhaps ten feet away, glancing up at her with a pretty, beckoning glitter. Like an old key fitted in a rusty lock, the world jolted into place. Bright brown eyes widened. The sharp winds faded into insignificance. She'd _escaped_.

Lea's lips curved into a shaky smile.

Something occurred to her then. _The wolves... they didn't get me._

Her breath caught. Memories rushed back with shocking suddenness. She remembered now why she was afraid and hastily attempted to rise, only to wince at the stab of pain that hit her stomach. She fell back down with a thud. Her back pressed hard against tree bark, and the dark stain colouring the side of her tunic turned ominously darker. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest. It was so cold. Soundlessly, Lea let the tears fall.

As though they had been a signal eagerly awaited by the forest, a great shivering breath of air raced through the woods. Winds cut cruelly at the small figure curled up at the base of her large, gnarled tree. The tree's dense, green canopy provided scant cover from the harsh winds, caressing Lea's bruised skin with fingers as sharp as daggers, chilling her to a remarkable sensation beyond numbness. Her tears dried on her cheeks. She began to tremble.

A howl cut through the silence. The sound was high and lingering, ominously beautiful as it travelled straight through the air to Lea's position. Hastily, she grasped the crudely fashioned dagger that she'd let fall to the ground just by her, then stilled. Her eyes narrowed on the foliage before her. In her mind's eye, she could imagine the glint of intelligent, feral eyes gleaming under the gloom of the pale sunlight; shadowed soft grey fur and snapping jaws; a growling wolf pack nipping at her heels as her dagger swung desperately –

"Damn it," Lea whispered, and tensed. Her eyes darted back and forth. How much time had passed since she'd fallen? The brightening sunlight took on the aspect of a sly trick played by the fates. Oh, to die where none would know –

_Snap_.

Every muscle in Lea's body locked in place. A moment passed, then two.

_Snap_!

Her world narrowed in on that small, crackling sound of a twig crunched underfoot. For a strange moment, it felt like the forest stilled with her. Lea dragged in a small, unsteady breath – no wolf was that careless.

Her eyes locked on the thick foliage encircling the right side of the lake. A tall silhouette came into sight for a split second, before melding seamlessly into shadowed forest ground. She stifled a cry of fear and tried to get up.

But when she braced her left hand against the firm ground, Lea's wrist buckled beneath her weight. A small gasp escaped, and she fell down yet again, hitting hard against mouldering tree bark. Her fingers clenched to a tangled tuft of squat green grass by her hip. She mangled the grainy turf badly, biting pain escaping her in short, hissing breaths as her vision darkened. The wine-coloured stain at Lea's side deepened and spread, just a little. She cradled her aching hand. Tears filled her eyes as she clutched her dagger once more and simply – waited.

Heavy footsteps broke through the air.

Quickly, Lea leaned back against her tree. Her lids fell gently to veil her eyes while her dagger was thrust neatly behind her back. She was just in time.

The footsteps treading towards her quickened in pace; she'd been seen.

It was difficult to keep still. The urge to run was so strong. But that was a fool's allure. It was too late to run. She must keep still. She _must_ keep still. Lea's fingers tightened painfully around her dagger's hilt.

The heavy footsteps turned louder, closing in on her. Abruptly, they stopped – right in front of her. Lea's stomach dipped unpleasantly. _Come just a bit closer._

But the person didn't move. Or speak. The silence stretched until Lea's nerves felt tautened beyond bearing. Why were they keeping so still? So quiet?

The wind whispered through the trees; she lifted her lids, just a little – it was enough to make out the hem of a dark blue robe. The garment had the dull shine of expensive material, either silk or satin, and was embroidered in what appeared to be pure silver. Beneath the heavy robe, Lea caught a glimpse of dark shoes, polished till they shone. Her senses sharpened: nobleman. Probably a lesser noble; a higher-ranking one would wear nothing less than gold embroidered robes, even if it meant risking confinement in a debtor's prison to finance the expensive cloth.

This man must have a party of armed guards nearby – no doubt instructed to keep their distance while their foolish master entertained a whim for walking meandering forest paths.

Lea's lips twisted briefly in scorn. She stayed very still, and readied herself to attack.

The noble crouched down before her.

Lea swung her hand in an arc. She intended to hold her dagger at the stranger's neck, keep him hostage for long enough to escape his guards, but her movement was followed abruptly by a yelp of pain – _her_ yelp of pain. Firm fingers gripped her wrist, twisting it at an unnatural angle. Lea stubbornly kept hold of her dagger, trying to yank free.

"Drop it," a low voice said, very softly. "Now."

She bit her lip, felt the man's grip tighten unforgivingly. Her lips parted on a protesting gasp.

"Drop it," he repeated, louder this time. "Or I'll break your wrist." His grasp tightened.

A small, uncontainable sound disgracefully akin to fear escaped her, but Lea refused to relinquish the weapon. He wouldn't be able to keep his grip on her for long.

"I won't ask you again," the stranger said, very quietly.

Lea took in a sharp breath, felt the pressure on her wrist increase alarmingly. She dropped the dagger to the forest floor without a sound.

But the stranger didn't release her yet. He merely tightened his hold, his clasp hardening until Lea was afraid he would really break her wrist.

"No, wait," she got out in alarm, and suddenly guessed what he was waiting for. "I wasn't really going to kill you," she hissed. "I... I apologise – I was merely – defending myself from – _My lord, please_!"

At her sudden, pained protest, the man's fingers mercifully eased their pressure. "Not from me, I hope," he said quietly. "It was, after all, you who struck first. No, don't turn away. I prefer to look my assailants in the eye."

She looked up resentfully, met dark eyes in an angular face.

The young noble's dark gaze fixed expressionlessly on her. "Are you alone?"

"Yes." She found herself inexorably drawn to that face. At first glance, he was neither handsome nor ugly, could be forgotten easily in a crowd. Should be forgotten, Lea thought absently. But for some reason she knew she would never forget this face.

"Are you certain you are here by yourself?"

"Yes," she repeated, and risked a small tug of her wrist. His hold hardened very slightly. She bit her lip. "Kindly let go, my lord."

"I – don't think so." Cool, dark eyes didn't lend much expression to his angular features. His build was slim and reasonably tall, perhaps five inches taller than Lea's own five foot six frame, and it wasn't hard for Lea to spot hints of aristocratic lineage in the stranger's clean features. Peasants didn't own such smooth skin, or that trace of angular bone structure. She guessed that he was not much older than her own eighteen years; like most nobles though, he was already well-schooled in impassivity, lending a deceptively aging detachment to his mien.

And he possessed an easy strength that suggested familiarity with combat, Lea realised with unease – not just in the way he'd trapped her wrist so ruthlessly, but also in the smooth, still way the noble held himself crouched in front of her, watching her quietly as she watched him, his features set in stone.

As Lea committed the noble's face to memory, she was gripped by that sense of unease once more. "I told you, my lord, I am alone," she insisted when he continued to look at her so quietly. "I am by myself in these woods..."

He pursed his lips very slightly. "Perhaps you have friends?" the noble suggested suddenly. "Hiding behind the bushes, waiting to ambush me..." His eyes sharpened. "Yes?"

Well, an ambush was very possible, Lea thought, but not by _her_ friends. "I am alone," she said again. "Please believe me. I have no reason to lie to you."

"You had no reason to attack me," he remarked. "And yet you did."

"That's different. I was defending myself from a stranger." Her eyes dwelled on the dark blue robe that hung straight and elegant on the noble's slim body, hem and collar accented in black and silver. He was lucky he'd caught her strike; it would have been a shame to stain that fine collar a dull crimson.

"Do strangers make such attractive targets then," the noble said softly, "for assault in a forest?"

"You might have intended me harm."

"But I didn't harm you."

"You might have," Lea insisted. He still could. Absently, she glanced down at the fingers wrapped around her. A thin bracelet of emeralds and rubies encircled the man's wrist. Lea stared at the glittering trinket blankly; at the back of her mind, she was trying to comprehend who the young nobleman could be, how he had disarmed her so easily. And how he would pay for that insult.

When she glanced up again, Lea had the oddest impression that the young noble was considering something very similar. Her expression turned mutinous.

"You can let go now," she said from between her teeth.

"Can I?" he said softly. "More to the point, _must_ I?"

Crouched before her as he was, the noble blocked out what there was of the morning light, so she couldn't quite read his expression, but something in his shadowed aspect made Lea draw back abruptly. She'd misjudged this man. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest. This wasn't a spoilt, soft noble lord. No, he was something different. Something – dangerous.

She glanced down at where she'd dropped her dagger. It was gone.

"Who are you?" Lea said at last. Her voice came out a raspy clue to her exhaustion, but she hoped it would add also to his perception that she was the boy she appeared to be. "Is your home nearby?"

The noble remained silent, observed her quietly.

"Who are you?" she tried again, slowly this time, but she was becoming certain the young man was indeed from Makliaven, probably from a smaller, lesser known protectorate; that would explain his peculiar accent. "How came you to this place?"

The young nobleman's expression stayed annoyingly impassive on hers. Options ran through Lea's mind, were quickly discarded. His guards would catch up with their master soon enough. If he decided to hand her to them for sport before returning her to her enemies...

Lea's muscles tensed. She was in no condition to defend herself from a pack of Makliaven guards.

"Get on with it then," she said, keeping her eyes steadily on his. "You will find me a difficult prisoner. It is better that you kill me now." She paused, then added as an afterthought, "I will find a way to kill you later if you do not."

There was a brief flicker of something in the stranger's eyes. Perhaps amusement, perhaps anger – Lea wasn't quite sure which.

"A pre-meditative strike," he remarked at last.

She shrugged. "Better me than you."

"Can we both not survive this unexpected meeting?"

"Kill me or be killed, my lord. Those are your choices."

"There is no need for such death dealing as yet," was his quiet reply. "What is your name?"

"Tell me _your_ name, sir, and I shall tell you mine. Better yet," and a smile trembled on Lea's lips, "sink my dagger into my chest. I welcome it."

"You are badly injured for such a bloodthirsty little thing," the young noble remarked absently, as though he found this fact intriguing, or unusual. Elegant fingers came up to touch her bruised jaw. "And far too dramatic. You will need a healer's help, my dear."

It wasn't the words that made Lea instinctively draw her face away, watch with large eyes as that elegant, pale hand fell to the noble's side; it was the way he'd said them. As though he knew quite well she wasn't a boy.
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Chapter 2

He knew she wasn't a boy.

She shouldn't have been surprised, Lea thought absently. Too much had happened for her to resemble still the young boy who'd entered Makliaven a mere week ago. Almost as though her body had suddenly caught up with her shaken thoughts, Lea's heart began to race. Everything inside her turned ice cold. Oh, why had she not _thought_...

"If you touch me again," Lea said very distinctly, "I _will_ kill you. My lord."

"Bloodthirsty, dramatic and – quite insolent," he murmured, raising an eloquent brow. "Might I point out that you are incapable of killing a flea in your current state?"

It had been amusement that had flashed through his eyes earlier, Lea realised. Mocking amusement. He didn't see her as a threat.

And why should he?

She struggled to contain sudden fear. He hadn't even asked her, Lea thought suddenly, what she was doing in the forest.

Maybe the noble spotted the fear flitting across her face, because his smile died suddenly. "I'm not going to take advantage of you, little murderess," he remarked. "But you need a healer."

"My dagger will suffice," was all Lea could think to say, and added somewhat contradictorily, "I'm not a murderess."

"I'm not returning your weapon to you," was his polite reply. "So you can wipe that vicious smile off your face."

Lea blinked, and guiltily schooled her features into what she prayed was a more neutral expression; she hadn't even realised she'd smiled in the first place. "Now see here, my lord, perhaps it was premature of me to... What I mean is, I might have sounded –"

"Pugilistic."

"– defensive," Lea said at the same time. "But you can see that I'm hardly in any position to harm you considering –"

"I'm not returning your weapon to you." The words were said very gently, as though he was speaking to a recalcitrant child deprived of its favourite toy. "No matter how many times you ask for it."

To Lea's horror, her eyes filled with tears. She looked away, blinking hard, and fought back the urge to plead for his mercy. She needed her dagger's cool, lethal touch against her skin so desperately. Her fingers clenched, drawing her attention to the lean hand encircling her wrist like a manacle. She'd forgotten he still held her, albeit not so securely as before.

Abruptly, the noble's fingers fell away from hers. "I will not harm you," he said. "I have no reason to."

Lea drew her hand onto her lap, rubbing the molested little member gingerly. She didn't dare check for the marks of the noble's fingers on them; the sight might cause her to lose what little caution she still possessed. _He would pay for that_ , she promised herself.

"I did not mean to frighten you," her newest captor mused. His hands fell lightly to his lap. "You have nothing to fear from me."

Her jaw locked. She jerked her head up. "You didn't frighten me."

"I'm sure I didn't," he agreed, but the thread of amusement in his voice told her he knew differently. "Come now, do not stare at me with such wide, wild eyes. You look halfway between a wounded fawn and a hissing wildcat." He lifted his hands out to her, palms up, and spread his fingers. "See? I have nothing with which to hurt you."

His tone had turned oddly gentle, and Lea could almost believe he felt sorry for her. Something inside her threatened to soften. The sensation was terrifying. Her eyes narrowed on his.

The sharp, cold forest wind stabbed at Lea through her torn clothing. Miserably, she hunched her shoulders, looking away from the noble as she rubbed her palms together for warmth before tucking her hands beneath her arms, shivering gently.

"How long have you been lying here like this?" the noble wondered.

A puzzled frown came to Lea's eyes. Hope rose inside her. He didn't know who she was. He wasn't one of those sent to find her... She could use him.

A grim smile flitted across Lea's lips, come and gone very quickly. She turned her face up to the noble's once more. "Tell me your name, my lord." A coaxing smile softened the order. "I am certain I have seen you somewhere before."

The noble tilted his head to the side. His expression had turned to stone again.

Lea hesitated. "My name is Hannah," she offered finally.

"Hannah," he repeated, very softly, as though trying out the name.

"And you, my lord? May I know your name?"

"No."

She closed her eyes. Her head was aching more than ever. She should never have entered the borders of this forbidden forest. The stranger could be anyone, could be a Makliaven inquisitor engaged in some charade to elicit information from her. And even if not...

"If you would just be – so kind as to direct me to a trader's road?" Lea ventured finally. She hated the way her voice shook, and kept her eyes tightly closed, not wanting him to see her weariness reflected in them. "I don't have anything to offer you in return, my lord – my master's yield was low this season, and all that I was delivering for him was taken from me. But he will pay you for my return."

"I – see."

Scepticism, curiosity or disdain? Lea honestly couldn't say, but the odds were in favour of disdain; nobles were not ordinarily in the habit of addressing peasants for this long at a stretch. "I assure you, my lord, my master will compensate you for your trouble." She sagged back against her tree, hoping that she looked as pathetic as she felt. "I – I was returning from... after making a delivery at a border trading post. We would have been home in hours. But then – the bandits... " A brief pause ensued. She murmured, "The profit is lost now."

"Was it a large profit that you lost?"

She looked up again, wondering at the casual curiosity of that question. "Large enough," Lea said at last, and searched his eyes. Did he imagine she was holding the missing earnings on her person? She shifted uneasily. Some Makliaven nobles possessed shockingly bare coffers as of late. This young noble – or his family – might well be seeking to replenish their wealth. Her heart seemed to stop.

Quickly, Lea added, "All of our goods and coin were taken from me." Her shoulders shrugged in defeat. "Even my coat was taken from me." The annoyed note in her voice wasn't a lie. "It was fur-lined," she couldn't help grumbling. "Would have lasted me many winters of travel. The bandits were too efficient to let anything of value slip through their fingers."

"Except you," the noble remarked.

A quiet pause fell between them. Lea wisely ignored the sudden dip of fear in her stomach. She cleared her throat. "I must get back home to inform my master of his loss." She focused on the earthy forest floor, covered in delicate mounds of brittle twigs and dried fallen leaves. "This was my first assignment. My master will be furious with me for losing his wares. I can only hope he will not see fit to demand my month's wages in return for what I have lost him."

"Surely that would be excessive."

"Not at all, my lord." She frowned down at the ground. He needn't sound so reproving. Or so ignorant. It was a common, reasonable practice for Lorien farm-owners to exact compensation when goods were lost by the careless handing of their employees. At least they didn't forfeit a peasant's entire living, bonding him to places far less comfortable than a farm until his debt was paid as was the custom with Makliaven's landowners. "I must get back," Lea muttered half to herself.

"You will not be able to travel for some days." The noble's voice was nearer than before. "How did you come by your injuries? The robbers marked you as a target, did they?"

Lea met the quiet, dark gaze three inches from her own and allowed some of her fear to creep into her expression. "Yes, my lord." Her lower lip trembled for the briefest moment before her chin came up bravely. "They struck our caravan just as we were preparing to return to Lorien. They knew I was the caravan's lead trader. I'd heard that some bandits treated lead traders badly if they were caught, so I fought back, and when I did... When I did, they – they –" She swallowed. "They would have killed me if they could, but I got away. I made it into the forest." She blinked a little, and added in a tearful voice, "I thought they would follow me."

"They didn't follow you?"

"No, they must've been from Makliaven." Lea's expression filled with scorn. "Their superstitions kept them from pursuing me." No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she suddenly remembered this nobleman was probably from Makliaven as well. Her expression faltered. "They fear the forest," Lea added lamely.

"Ah, spoken like a true daughter of Lorien," the noble replied pleasantly. "A stubborn Lorien peasant wandering an unknown forest." He rocked back on his heels just a bit. As Lea looked away, she could feel his gaze wandering over her averted profile. "You must be very brave, or very foolish, to have chosen such an escape route, peasant."

Lea's jaw locked at the unexpected reprimand. Her tears receded with startling speed. No one talked to her like that and got away with it. "Unfortunately, my lord," Lea said coolly, "I did not have an opportunity to think my escape through. Had I known what a dangerous route I had chanced upon, I would never have entered this wild, forgotten place. And my name, my lord, is Hannah. _Han–nah_. Not 'peasant'."

"Thank you for reminding me," the noble volunteered. "I must apologise for offending you."

Something in his voice made Lea glance up. She could have sworn his lips twitched a little as his eyes took in her torn clothing, stained with mud. Her gaze narrowed on his. "A trader's road," she began.

"– is too far from here," he interrupted her. "I would be sentencing you to certain, no doubt grotesque, death if I pointed you towards the nearest path." A well-manicured, pale hand swept in a semi-circle, gracefully indicating the surrounding forest. "There are wolf packs that roam these woods, peasant, and they would find one such as you – tempting."

"My life or its end is not your concern," Lea pointed out with sudden heat, and took a breath. _Don't antagonise him_. She gathered her composure around her like a familiar, forgotten cloak. "I apologise, my lord. It seems my temper is somewhat –"

"Frayed at the edges," he commented. "As are your strange clothes. I believe the tailor your master frequents mistakenly attired you in the custom of a man instead of a woman. Most curious. Hannah."

She smiled with difficulty, and somehow resisted the urge to slap that cool grin off his mocking mouth. "Not as curious as it might seem. My lord, I would like to reach a trader's road by morning. If you would just –"

"I would like a great many things myself," the noble observed sadly. "But it appears they are to be denied me."

Lea's smile twisted into something resembling a grimace. "Mere wolf packs will not deter me."

"You surprise me."

Her chin tilted up pugnaciously before she could help herself.

"But indeed, you are obviously adept at caring for yourself," the noble agreed admiringly before Lea could speak. His lips curved when she shot him a suspicious look. "I assure you, I meant that as a compliment. I merely –" His voice died abruptly. Dark eyes flashed down at the slender hand moving stealthily towards his right hip. "Desist. I told you, peasant, I have no weapons housed on my person."

Lea drew her hand back very slowly. "How inconvenient," she remarked. _And unbelievable_. "But I'm afraid you are mistaken, my lord. I was not attempting to regain my dagger." Her smile was quite bitter. "No matter how much I wish to."

The noble frowned suddenly. "You are bleeding."

She followed his gaze down to her left side, and felt the colour leave her face. "It's not as bad as it looks," Lea said, but could hear the lack of conviction in her own voice. "It was dealt a day ago. I thought... I thought it would have healed a bit by now but..."

"Was it dealt you by sword?"

"Arrow." Lea smiled wanly. "It was foolish of me to remove the arrowhead. I – I don't know what I was thinking." The decision had not only cost her blood, it had called the wolves to her, scenting easy prey. "I suppose I was not thinking," Lea admitted then, in a low, weary murmur. "I just couldn't – stand to have it inside me."

"I will take you to a healer," the noble said suddenly. "Your wound might get infected, if it isn't already. A healer is what you require."

There was an oddly determined note in his voice, one that immediately triggered a wash of alarm inside her. "You will direct me to a trader's route," Lea said at once. No healer would dare reside within this particular forest. What was he playing at? "Direct me to a trader's route, my lord. I will find a healer once I am back in Lorien."

"That might be too late." The young noble watched as Lea pressed hard on the wound at her side. "If you have been unable to staunch the bleeding for this long, I do not believe you will succeed now. Your actions become more foolish by the minute. You need a healer's help."

"Direct me to a trader's route," Lea said quietly, "or I will try for one regardless of your counsel."

The noble shrugged. "You are free to try, but you will not get far, even if I did return your dagger to you. Which I won't," he added before Lea could interrupt. "Your weapon is akin to a child's toy when measured against the strength of the creatures rumoured to roam this forest."

At his slow nod in the direction of her feet, Lea looked down. Dull silver gleamed from beneath the brown leaves littering the ground. She bit her lip. The weapon had been lying under her very nose the whole time.

"Besides," the noble added now, and lifted the dagger into the air by its deadly tip, "it is an alarmingly dirty weapon, is it not?"

Lea watched mutely as he inspected the blade with a look of disgust on his face.

"One of the dirtiest daggers I've ever laid eyes on," the noble continued. He tapped the blade lightly against the pointed toe of his well-polished black shoe. "Caked with mud and – is that rust?"

"Uh." Lea looked down at the dagger in some confusion. She hadn't thought dried blood resembled rust before. "I – I suppose so."

"Well, I shall not presume to know what else coats the blade." He paused, before adding sweetly, "But you will certainly do better without it."

Without warning, the noble rose to his feet. Lea watched in a kind of stunned disbelief as he strode to the side – her dagger held gingerly between the tips of two pale fingers – and flung her only weapon right into the middle of thick, thorny underbrush.

"Oh," Lea said blankly. For a moment, she couldn't quite comprehend what he'd done. Abruptly, her stunned expression gave way to incredulity; she wouldn't be able to retrieve the dagger without harming herself. Fury rolled through her in a fierce rush that warmed her insides. " _Oh_!"

"You are well rid of it," the noble remarked as he returned to her, and added a cryptic, "As am I."

She stared at him in undisguised rage, quite unable to speak.

"A most unsanitary weapon," the noble explained, crouching down to her level again. "It has obviously been used before."

"No doubt," she said in a choked voice, and hastily fisted her fingers to keep from striking at him.

"Used multiple times, I'd hazard?" He shuddered gently. "No doubt to slice through meat and the like."

Lea looked at him mutely. For the first time, he seemed more naïve than dangerous. She wondered if he really wore no weapons on his person.

"One should keep one's weapons gleaming with health at all times," the noble continued sternly. "With that open wound bleeding so freely and a dirty dagger in your hand, is it any wonder that –"

"If you intend to leave me with neither defences nor direction, my lord," Lea interrupted tightly – she was afraid she might use the last of her strength to punch him in the throat if she was forced to endure his nonsensical prattle any longer, "at least point me to the nearest village in this godforsaken forest-ground."

"I had thought you wished to die at the teeth and paws of a wolf pack," the noble reminded her. He smiled widely.

Lea gritted her teeth. "I've changed my mind," she said with equal politeness. And just how did the fool think she would protect herself after he'd retired her only weapon? "The nearest village," Lea thought aloud, "would be the best option. There must be one at the forest border at least. If you would point me towards it –"

The noble shook his head at once. "You will not reach it without help. But do not be afraid. I can protect you without the dagger. The wolves will not harm you if I'm with you."

The sheer arrogance of that statement rendered Lea speechless once more. She stared at the noble blankly. This had to be the most stupid nobleman she'd had the misfortune to cross paths with. "Uh," she said, struggling to respond with any kind of grace. "Thank you, my lord, but I do not wish to trouble you further. If you would just help me up..."

"Oh no, walking will only tire you," he said sweetly. "I will carry you to the healer myself. You're such a little thing, aren't you? Can't weigh much at all. Light as a feather, I'm certain."

Lea's mouth opened, closed, then opened once more.

"Is something wrong?"

She smiled. The gesture did not reach her eyes. "I'm certain I did not understand you. My lord."

"You are obviously injured too badly to walk," the noble explained, apparently oblivious to the dangerous light in Lea's eyes. "I will carry you with me. There is a healer living not far from here. He will certainly assist you. Ah, I see that this piece of information has made you speechless with gratitude." He nodded with satisfaction. "Do not worry. It will be no trouble to carry you to him. We will be there in less than an hour, at most." He bent down as he spoke.

"You will _not_ presume to touch me!" Lea snapped immediately, and straightened her spine, staring him right in the eyes. "I might be an unschooled peasant, my lord, but let me assure you that my station ensures I am perfectly able to make my way to this healer on my own."

"Surely not," the noble said doubtfully. He frowned. "You appear so fragile. So... delicate."

Lea found that she was grinding her teeth. "I assure you," she said very softly, "that I am not in the least – delicate." Fuming at the unfairness of fate in dealing her such a rotten card in the person of this idiot nobleman, Lea slowly pushed herself off the ground. She let out a soft groan.

"Let me help you."

She waved away the noble's outstretched hand. "I can do this on my own."

Lea had cause to regret that statement. When she finally stood upright, she was forced to lean back against her tree, panting softly as she tried to recover her breath. Her legs were trembling.

"That was an exercise in folly," the noble commented into the silence. "If ever there was one."

After his initial offer to help, he'd watched her efforts with interest and – Lea guessed – silent enjoyment. The rat. "I'm glad to have provided you with entertainment, my lord," she remarked with barely hidden sarcasm, "but I believe it is time for us to part ways."

The noble opened his mouth, obviously about to protest, but before he could, Lea held up an imperious hand. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" the nobleman enquired.

But Lea noticed his expression had hardened; he'd heard it too. She turned to her left in a smooth motion, listening intently. Her heart began to race.

"Ah," the noble said, very quietly. "That."

A bundled murmur of shouts rang softly through the forest in an unmistakable warning, one that made Lea's breath escape her in a soft hiss of fear. Not _again_. Quickly, she turned back to the noble. "Listen to me," she said, careful to keep her voice down. "You do not have to believe me, my lord, but the band of – of bandits who have been following me –" She paused. The shouts were becoming steadily louder by the second.

"Yes?"

"I believe... I believe they are in the forest."

"Indeed?" the noble said coolly. "How remarkable of them. I had thought them superstitious fools who dared not follow anyone into the forest."

She flushed at that. "They must think I carry more coin on my person than what they already took."

The noble did not look convinced. She couldn't blame him.

"These are vicious men, my lord," Lea improvised quickly. "And these are hard times, especially for those deserting the Makliaven army. They will not hesitate to attack even one of noble blood such as yourself. We must hide." And when he merely looked at her blankly. " _Now_."

Up rose an annoyingly enquiring brow. "Are you looking to _me_ to provide you with this hiding place you seek?" the noble wondered.

"I am not familiar with this part of the forest," she reminded him.

"Yes." That mocking smile teased at his mouth once more. "Yes, I can see that you are not."

"Then help me," she urged, and darted a quick glance to the side. The shouts were getting uncomfortably close. "There's no time to argue about this!"

"I would help you," the noble offered. "Only – this is the first time I have entered this forest myself."

That brought Lea up short. She swivelled around to face him. "You cannot be serious."

He nodded his head. "It is the truth," he said regretfully.

"But the healer," Lea began.

"His home is on the outskirts of these woods," the noble explained. "On the forest borders, not further into its depths. I can still take us there, if you wish."

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "I believe, my lord," Lea suggested grimly, "that you are attempting humour in a moment that is unfortunately –"

The noble lifted a polite brow. "Humour, attempted or otherwise, is the last thing on my mind. I must apologise if I misled you into thinking I knew my way about this forest. I do not. It is as unfamiliar to me as it is, I believe, to you." He pursed his lips gently. "I am afraid that we are both strangers in this particular forest, Hannah."

The wind seemed to whisper to a halt at his words. The forest turned deathly quiet – save of course for those echoing calls so very near to them now. Lea found herself breathing very hard, struggling not to panic. He was serious. The arrogant, fool nobleman was actually serious. He had no idea where they were, no more than she did. How the hell did he think he could help her if he didn't know where they were?

A rough male voice called out urgently to another. She recognised the second voice when it replied, and abruptly went very still. "Damn it." Lea glanced to her right. There was no time to carry on this pointless conversation. It looked like she would have to save the noble instead of the other way around. Her gaze narrowed on something beyond his shoulder. "Follow me," she ordered, adding beneath her breath, "You useless fool."

"Follow you?" The noble's eyes widened when Lea pushed past him. "But where are you going?"

She stumbled forward without reply, making for the nearby lake. Her heart thudded in her chest as she waded into shallow, cold water; she gazed down dazedly at her battered reflection on the lake surface.

"I'm going where they won't find me," Lea said simply. And dove in.
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Chapter 3

There was no time to think, nor even look back to see if the young nobleman was behind her. The lake water was shockingly cold, stung sore skin, but it was predictably invigorating as well; Lea's tired spirits soared back to life. She'd always been a good swimmer. Old instincts reared to the surface. She kicked strongly for the bottom of the weed-infested lake – the long, sinuous vegetation might just hide her from sight.

Vaguely, Lea registered the dull thud of someone diving into the water behind her. The foolish noble must have finally chosen to utilise what brains he had.

She reached the dark bottom of the lake. Cool, heavy waters held her in their comforting embrace. With effort, Lea slid down and behind a large, tall patch of greenish-grey weeds. Their trailing tips floated up to just over her head. She grasped hold of the slimy things with cold fingers and looked up.

The sight that met her eyes was oddly gratifying. The noble was making for her position, his expensive robe pooling around his body in an odd, billowing swathe of silver and black. He didn't look pleased.

Lea had the oddest urge to grin. But then, she saw _them_.

Vague shadows of armed figures began to emerge in the backdrop of the descending noble; the forest glade was no longer a quiet sanctuary. Time seemed to still. The watery view of the men searching for her was no less terrifying from beneath the lake waters than it would have been if she'd remained above-ground. Lea's heart went cold, her expression unconsciously translating her panic across her face just as the noble reached her.

He swam close to where she treaded water, all swirling black robes and stern features. As he wound his way through straggling weeds to her side, there was a question in those dark eyes.

Lea immediately raised a finger to her lips, only to belatedly remember that no sound would translate upwards from the lake depths anyway. Slowly, she lowered her finger, feeling foolish.

But the noble nodded gently, raising his own finger to his lips to tell her he understood.

Lea tried to smile her thanks. His lips curved slightly in response.

Their wait in the watery surroundings should only take a moment, Lea thought. The group above would surely move on quickly. But her luck seemed to have deserted her once more. On the lake's bank, the small band of armed men unexpectedly stayed where they were, arguing about something.

Below the lake surface, their quarry began to run out of air.

Lea wasn't sure when exactly she knew she couldn't hold out. All she knew was, her tight, burning lungs felt like they would burst. Her fingers had turned a sickly blue with the cold. Or was that just the natural colour of fingers underwater?

_I can't_ , Lea thought dazedly. _I can't breathe_.

Her hands clutched desperately to the long weeds surrounding her, hung on for dear life as she willed herself to stay here. A last, indomitable spark of resistance told her death would be preferable to surrender. Her eyes turned blankly to the noble next to her.

His hands were folded at his chest, an annoyed expression on his face.

Which was odd, wasn't it?

Lea blinked. He looked so peculiar, standing upright in the water next to her with his arms negligently crossed, faint irritation sparking in those black eyes. He wasn't even bothering to tread water. Lea's eyes narrowed. Were they so close to the lake bed?

She watched dazedly as one hand detached itself slowly, rose up; the noble pointed a lean forefinger upwards. His expression was politely enquiring.

Lea had a horrible urge to giggle. Her body was clamouring for air, for release. Drowning was becoming too hard to resist. How long had they been down here?

Vaguely aware that she was losing the feeling in her limbs, Lea watched as one of the noble's hands rose up to point at her, then encircled his neck in a choking motion. His brows rose in question. Lea stared back at him – and felt a dry, rasping breath begging for release. Her lips parted slightly, almost absently. Darkness edged the line of her vision. Water began to replace air.

The noble's eyes were fixed upon hers, so Lea noticed when a glint of something grim and sharp entered their depths. He seemed to shrug at her, though how he managed that so deep underwater, Lea could not comprehend. She only knew that she was strangely relieved that the end had come, that the lake waters weren't cold anymore, just soft and smooth... She could just close her eyes and let herself fall back –

The noble's hands uncrossed themselves smoothly, coming up through the water between them with astonishing speed. He gathered Lea to him in a hard, strong embrace, pulling her limp body flush against his. He pressed his mouth to hers.

For a moment, all Lea felt was that lovely fall away into darkness. And for the first time in her life, she welcomed the dark. But suddenly, without warning, she turned fully awake again, as though a match's flame had been struck within her, kindling a furious fire from the inside out. Her body turned rigid, her expression startled and confused, quite unable to comprehend this sudden re-emergence to lucidity. And then –

What is he _doing_?

Abruptly, Lea's brain kicked into action. She gasped and tried to pull away. _I don't want to be saved_.

The noble's hold on her tightened painfully. His mouth slanted warm and firm on hers. His eyes looked deep into hers, filled with a clear warning: _be still_.

And Lea knew he wouldn't let her die. Her heart sank. She turned quite still, and forced herself to let him breathe for her. Their eyes stayed locked on each other, his expression hard, and vaguely threatening. Lea wondered when he would let her go...

But the noble's lips stayed firmly pressed to hers. Lea was forced to endure the oddly intimate sensation of him breathing for her, into her, for the longest time. She had the strange thought that it was his very breath that was keeping her warm amidst the straggling weeds at the bottom of this cold lake. His hands were wrapped briskly – almost impersonally – around her slender figure, holding her up with unmistakable firmness, as though he were afraid she would somehow slip out of his embrace. And as Lea reluctantly raised her arms to link around his neck, she couldn't help noticing the touch of wicked amusement that suddenly flickered in the dark eyes looking down so sternly into her own.

He was enjoying this.

Furious, Lea tilted her head back, blinking at the watery view of the lake bank. Her pursuers had disappeared.

She tore her mouth from the noble's at once, squirming out of his hold, and kicked hard for the lake surface. Her lungs were on fire by the time she broke through. Sputtering curses, Lea dragged her drooping, drenched body up the small lake's bank, hastily checking that it was empty of the men chasing her, before pulling herself to her previous position under one of the tall trees surrounding the clearing.

Panting softly, trembling from exhaustion and fear – and yes, a touch of anger – Lea watched as the noble emerged from the lake, cool as ever, elegance clothing his expression like a second, impassive skin. Unlike Lea's tattered state, _his_ robe – drenched and dripping as it was – appeared as neat as an infernal button.

"You should leave this place," Lea said in a choked voice. The suggestion suddenly sounded remarkably intelligent now that she'd said it, so Lea repeated it very loudly, "You should leave _now_ , my lord. Return to your guards. They will protect you. The bandits might come back."

To her annoyance, the noble just looked at her. His expression conveyed the kind of pity usually reserved by pompous aristocrats for village idiots. "You should leave too, you know," he said finally, and added with impeccable logic, "After all, the – er, bandits – were searching for you, not me."

_You should have let me die_!

The words remained unspoken. "I'll make my own way through the forest," Lea said stiffly. Awareness was returning to her, together with a painful sense of shame. She'd had no right to accept death without a fight, not when the lives of so many others depended on her survival. More forcefully, "It would be safer for both of us if I didn't travel with you."

"So that you can attempt to take your own life once again?" The words hung soft and haunting between them. And then, the noble must have seen something close to the sickening shame suddenly spinning within her, because he said only, "You were weak from loss of blood, unable to think clearly. Do not blame yourself for what happened."

It was that damned gentle tone in his voice again. It did something to her insides, made her forget to be wary, made her forget to see him as an enemy.

But it couldn't, Lea thought, erase her sudden cowardice.

She sighed, and shut her eyes. That dip into the lake had taken the last stretch of her energy. How long had they stayed down there? She was freezing.

"I'll be fine on my own," she said quietly, and opened her eyes to see the noble just standing there, staring at her with the oddest look on his face. "What is it?" He looked almost – concerned for her.

The thought made Lea grimace inside. "I assure you, my lord, I am perfectly all right. What happened earlier..." She took a breath. "It was merely a momentary weakness. Nothing more."

"I would like to believe you," he murmured. "But I do not see how you are in the least competent to travel anywhere on your own in your present state."

"I do not believe I asked for your opinion," Lea pointed out. She was trembling suddenly, achingly aware of how close she'd come to accepting death like an old, loving friend, even if that meant betraying all whom she loved, everything she believed in. "Please, just – leave me alone. I do not wish for your help." _I don't deserve it_.

"Have you no sense of self-preservation?" The noble paused. "Are you so unable to ask for help when you so clearly need it?"

Any gratitude she felt towards him dissolved in an instant. Lea felt a pleasant rush of heat suffusing her cheeks. This... this spoilt lord dared presume to lecture _her_? She let out a low, bitter laugh. "I suggest you concern yourself with your own self-preservation, my lord," she said shortly. "And leave me to my own."

"I dare not. You seek death too easily in your state. Surely you can see that?"

A quiet pause stretched between them. Lea nearly groaned aloud; she just _knew_ what was coming next.

"I will take you to a healer," the noble declared. And smiled.

He had a rather attractive smile, Lea thought, if only it would reach his eyes.

"I told you," she murmured, and watched as that quiet smile died, "I don't –"

He waved an elegant hand in the air, cutting her off. "You are obviously unable to think clearly," the noble remarked. "It would do neither of us any good to stand here arguing. You are freezing, as am I. And those men might decide to come back, hmmm?" He bent down to her.

Lea shrank back at once. Her eyes widened alarmingly in her pale, pinched face. "Don't you dare – _oh_." If possible, her eyes flared even wider. She went rigid.

"What's wrong?" the noble said sharply. He spun around so quickly she blinked.

"W-wolves," Lea stammered. "Can't you see them?"

Lean, lithe shadows padded stealthily in the shelter of the underbrush, keeping the duo by the lake in their sights at all times.

"They're watching us" Lea realised, and stiffened. "They intend to attack, you f-fool!" And they were both without weapons to defend themselves. "Quick." She tried to get up. "We need to find my dagger."

"I don't believe that will be necessary."

She snorted in answer. The fragile boundary of the forest shrubs wouldn't keep the animals away for long. She tried to get up again, her breath hissing out in frustration.

"Stay still," the noble said calmly. "You are exerting yourself for no reason. The wolves will not hurt us."

"I wish you would not be so _absolutely_ –"

The noble lifted his hand at the wolves in a small, abrupt gesture.

The pacing shadows behind the brush retreated as one.

Lea blinked. "They... I don't understand." Slowly, she sank back down to the ground. Her dazed senses struggled to understand this newest, strange event. A frown crept to her eyes. When had a wild wolf pack ever retreated at the presence of an unarmed human?

No, Lea realised suddenly. They hadn't fled at his presence. They'd fled at his _command_.

Her eyes flew to the noble's face. Suddenly, she was more afraid that she'd ever been. There was something not quite right about this man with his lack of entourage and seemingly endless reservoirs of strength. They had stayed underwater for so long, she remembered in deepening fear. Far too long...

"That doesn't make sense," Lea whispered unsteadily. _There is no such thing as magic, Lea. No such thing as magic._ Her lids dropped down briefly. "I must not be – awake."

"Put your arms around my neck."

That got her attention. She looked up at once, found the noble's face mere inches from her own, and hastily leaned her head back against her tree. "I will do no such thing," Lea declared coolly. Her expression stiffened at the sudden hard light that flashed through the eyes of the young noble. She watched him warily. "You will _not_ touch me."

"I will not hurt you," he corrected her, and bent closer.

"Stay away from me," Lea warned in sudden fear, but he obviously wasn't listening. She lurched to her feet, was proud of the feat for a full three seconds before sharp pain racked her body. " _Oh_ ," she said, and wondered why her legs felt boneless.

"Little fool." The noble shook his head in a sharp movement that conveyed his displeasure more clearly than anything he'd spoken so far. "I see you're bent on courting death at all costs, you foolish little peasant."

"Stop calling me that," Lea returned absently. How remarkable: her knees were actually knocking against each other. "You – you have to stop calling me that."

"What?" he asked, watching her closely. "Peasant? Or foolish? I believe both are accurate descriptions of you, freezing little spitfire."

"Stop calling me – _little_ ," Lea got out, teeth chattering. And her legs buckled.

Strong hands caught her before she hit the ground, smoothly lifted her up and cradled her against a deliciously warm chest. A hard arm slipped beneath her knees, swinging her legs up and supporting her as her hands crept automatically around the noble's neck. A steady heartbeat thudded beneath her ear. Lea found that her own heart was pounding erratically, blood rushing in her ears as she fought back a wave of nausea.

The noble waited until she sagged in his hold, breathing in ragged little pants. Then, he began to walk through the shadowed forest, carrying her in his arms with surprising ease.

It was a moment before Lea found her voice. "Put me down," she ordered him, heart racing as the small lake disappeared from sight. He was moving too fast... "Put me _down_."

"Don't start that again," he warned her with thin impatience. "You are safe with me."

"Are you abducting me?" Lea enquired in a kind of dazed fury. She wouldn't have expected him to have the strength to carry her like this, not after staying underwater for so long, but everything she'd estimated about this man hadn't proved true so far, had it? "You – I didn't ask for your help," she got out through still chattering teeth. How could he be so warm and she so cold? "I can protect myself, you damned –"

"No, you cannot," he interrupted, a bite to his voice. "You are shaking badly, you silly girl. Be still now. You are paying for your impetuousness; the lake waters were icy enough to freeze the life out of you. No, be _still_. I will not hurt you. If not for me, the lake would have claimed your life long before those men could, remember? You are safe with me."

And Lea knew it was a lie. "I told you not to touch me," she repeated, hating how helpless she felt in that instant. Her limbs were trembling and useless in their exhaustion. He could do anything he wished to her, and she would not be able to stop him. There was only the sound of dried leaves crushed underfoot, the whispering howl of lonely winds weaving and winding past tall forest trees, and the awareness that they were going far too deep into this dark forest. "I'll _stab_ you if you – if you don't put me down. _Now_."

The noble's thin lips quirked lightly at the corners.

"Talking will only tire you," her assailant-saviour said at last. "I suggest you save your breath. Besides, as you have no weapon with which to do me an injury, _little_ spitfire, your words are empty threats I shall not entertain. You requested my assistance earlier. I will find us a suitable hiding place. Now," he suggested softly, "go to sleep."

Lea blinked nervously. How could he find them a hiding place when – The thought was lost when that annoyingly cold wind seemed to rush right through her. It felt like she was being speared all over by a million tiny, sharp icicles. Catching her breath in a soft, pained gasp, Lea turned her cheek into the noble's shoulder for warmth. She tried to pretend she was neither hurting nor afraid, but couldn't stop thinking about...

"Why do you fear me?" came a familiar voice from above her, that disarmingly gentle note in it again. "You are alarming yourself for no reason."

She bit her lip. Did he truly expect her to believe that? "What if I lied about – about who I am?" Lea said at last. "Why risk your safety by taking me with you?"

"Did you lie then?"

"N... no," she said hastily. "But what if I did?"

"It would matter not," he replied quietly, and looked straight ahead.

The winds curled around them in whispering, hollow song.

"I don't believe you."

The noble shrugged. "Your lack of belief is irrelevant," he remarked. "I merely wish to prevent an impoverished peasant from bleeding to death on the forest floor. Or being captured by those she eludes so poorly. Even if she does appear determined to pursue her own foolish end with such admirable fervour."

But random nobles simply didn't rescue injured peasants like this. Too many deserters or mercenaries were walking the traders' routes these days. The risk of being robbed – or worse – was a very real one.

"Who are you?" Only, the right question to ask seemed more – And she must have been more tired than she thought, because Lea found herself saying aloud the words that had been beating just beneath her consciousness for far too long: " _What_ are you?"

The noble's steps slowed for the briefest moment, before resuming their steady pace. "A friend," he replied. "I am a friend."

It was like the scales simply fell from her eyes. "You've been lying to me... the entire time," Lea marvelled softly. She tried to suppress the fear racing through her. "Haven't you?"

For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to reply, but then he said very quietly, "Not the entire time."

Her mouth hardened. A last, small hope puffed out its last breath inside her.

"Where are we going then?" She didn't really expect his answer to be the truth, but she needed to hear some sound besides the silent trudging of his booted feet through the forest undergrowth while she thought of a means to get away from him. "Is your... your estate nearby, my lord?"

A small pause. "Near enough."

A frown crept between Lea's brows. The noble shifted her comfortably – and securely – in his arms, hugging her close to him. Lea pretended to wilt against him in defeat, hiding her face in his shoulder. Her next words were muffled against silk. "I don't feel so good. Could we stop for a moment?"

"You don't expect me to be so easily fooled, do you?" the noble remarked, and Lea couldn't keep from stiffening in his arms. "I am sorry that I could not tell you the –" He paused, head tilted thoughtfully to the side. "– what you would consider the truth earlier. But it is not for me to say. My master will tell you all you wish to know."

"I – I don't understand." The cold had nothing to do with icy lake waters or sharp forest winds anymore. Lea felt quite sick suddenly, and knew at once what he had done. "Your master? The truth?" She took a breath, trying to calm herself, and found that she was shaking. "Where are you taking me?" Her fingers curled gently, trembling as they tried without success to form fists. "You –" And then, it was ripped out of her: " _What have you done to me_?"

He glanced down at her in surprise. "Nothing."

"Go to the devil," she slurred. When had he drugged her? _How_ had he drugged her? She swore again beneath her breath, blinking hard, trying desperately to stay awake, and began to panic. "Let me go!"

"I have done nothing to you," the noble said sharply. He looked down at her with a frown. "Calm yourself."

"You won't get away with this." But her mind felt clouded, fogged; she couldn't quite remember what she wanted to say, or do. Bitterly, "You don't know what you're doing. You have no idea how many people will be harmed if you don't let me _go_." She made a sudden try to twist out of his arms, a gasp of pain escaping her.

"Stop it," the noble said sharply. "I said, calm _down_." His arms tightened ruthlessly, containing Lea's struggles with little effort. His expression turned grim. "I haven't drugged you, you little fool. You have a concussion."

Lea bit her lip. His hands around her were impossibly strong, his fingers biting into her skin to stop her from pushing at him. She forced herself to stay still, trembling helplessly. "That is possible," she conceded in a whisper, but her heart was drumming fast in frantic protest. "That is very possible. But – But just tell me where we're going. You see, I promise I will not... I won't try to... leave or anything... Not without your permission..."

"No, that you will not."

The low words fell into the silence like the promise they were. Hot tears leaked out at the corners of Lea's eyes. He had to be a slaver. That was the only explanation. The ugly trade had begun again in certain isolated parts of Makliaven, funding not only the pockets of merchants but the barren homes of once wealthy families. He was a slaver.

"I will make you pay for this," she said, but her voice was the veriest whisper in the dark of the woods, hushed and afraid and quite weak. There was hardly any feeling in her limbs anymore. "I will make you pay..."

The noble glanced down at her again. "Perhaps you will at that," he murmured.

Her weary body snuggled comfortably against his. She murmured into his silk robe, "I won't... Don't know... But will make you... pay..."

"Go to sleep," he replied softly. "I will not let any creature hurt you. Be they wolves or men. Go to sleep now."

And quite simply, with an unnatural suddenness, Lea did. Her head lolled gently against the noble's chest. She drooped heavily in his hold.

The young noble continued on his path with ease, sparing hardly a glance at the sodden package now deeply asleep in his arms. The folds of his silken robe swirled gently about his slim frame, remarkably dry after his recent adventure in the lake. The forest, wreathed in a cold mist, watched carefully his progress into its deeper reaches.
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Chapter 4

"Not a sound," the low voice hissed.

Cool, sharp steel pressed against her throat.

Dem, please see him. Please turn back –

Hot-white pain exploded at the back of her head.

When she next opened her eyes, she was strung up in a large, hot dungeon. Her feet were bare and bloody, bound tightly with ropes at her ankles as she swung suspended above the dirty ground. There was a red glow to the place. Large furnaces lit with burning coal stood at one end of the dungeon. By the furnaces, men struck at pieces of iron; this was also a forge.

Heat ebbed and swelled. The smell of sweat and stale blood rose acrid in the air.

Suddenly, an agonised cry rang through the fiery chamber, its chilling echoes filling her ears with a promise of what awaited her. She strained at the chains shackling her wrists. They bit unkindly into tender skin, were linked to ropes that stretched her arms high up above her head, so that her efforts to break free only made her body swing aimlessly in the air. Blinding agony swept through her, whipping through her spine all the way to the roof of her skull. She gagged. Jackhammers pounded inside her head. The burning pressure of her unnatural position made her wrists and shoulder joints feel like fragile twigs, easily snapped as her upper body stretched beyond limits of endurance she hadn't known existed. Her lungs laboured for air.

When the pain abated, she went perfectly still, breathing in soft pants, her pupils dilated with fear. Five minutes later, she tried to loosen her bonds again. The men in the forge didn't look up from their work.

When she stopped struggling for the third time, the excruciating pain prodded her close to blacking out. She took in a rasping breath and blinked away those damn tears that threatened to spill over her lids so easily today. She knew now that she could not escape. Not like this. But when the opportunity came – and it would – she would inflict this pain tenfold on those who'd done this to her.

The thought brought her some relief. She tried to conserve her energy for what was to come, praying that the others had not been caught. A sudden, terrified scream rang out, hung sharp and high in distant caverns, then died too quickly. Something in the voice had been shockingly familiar. Her eyes burned with those stubborn, unshed tears. She couldn't keep them from falling this time.

She set her jaw, determined not to give her captors the satisfaction of watching her break, keeping her face as expressionless as possible while her cheeks turned wet with warm trails of unbidden sorrow. She could feel them watching her, waiting for the moment when they would make her scream as well. She promised herself she would never scream. She made the promise knowing she would never be able to keep it.

A familiar voice came to her ears, followed by the sounds of marching feet. Her captor entered the dungeon. He wore a small smile on his face, walked with the measured, elegant swagger of one who knew he could not be harmed. As he neared her, his guards fanned out protectively, forming a half-circle around him. He strode right up to where she hung, spent and bloody, suspended a full two feet off the ground. He looked her in the eyes. And flung a crimson ring at her bound feet.

The ring should have been golden.

The tears spilled over her cheeks again, hot and uncontrollable. Her bound hands meant she couldn't wipe them away. Just like she couldn't wipe that smile off his face. Her heart felt like it had been broken into a million fragile, unrecognisable pieces. She turned her face away, hoping her matted hair would fall to veil her face from his depraved sight, but out of the corner of her eyes, she saw only a widening of that pleased smile.

Smartly, he turned on his heel and left the hot dungeon, his guards keeping close to his heels. He'd done what he'd come here to do. Tomorrow, he would focus all his attention on making her tell him everything he wished to know. And if tomorrow didn't bring what he expected, he would simply focus his attention on her for however many days it took... The same way he'd focused his attention on the owner of that blood-coated ring.

Her eyes returned to Dem's ring. It had been left where it fell, right below her gently swinging feet, a pointed reminder of what awaited her. And of what she had lost.

Her expression blanked. The tears ceased to fall. And then there was only the sound of metal hitting metal, and the hissing of burning swords in water.

Lea sat up with a jolt. Her heart was racing so fast, she thought it would burst. Her hand automatically made a grasp for her sword.

_It's too quiet_ , she thought as she clutched her soft weapon.

Soft?

Lea glanced down. A frown crept into her eyes. Her slender fingers weren't wrapped around her sword's hilt at all; instead, they held in their grasp a fistful of smooth satin. Her eyes widened – she was ensconced under the covers of a sumptuous four-poster bed.

"Impossible," Lea said and looked up sharply. Her gaze travelled the length of the wide, high-ceilinged room. "What new game is this?"

A wooden door with a dull golden doorknob stood opposite the bed. About twenty feet away to Lea's right rose latticed windows, tall and wide, with windowpanes flung open so that sunshine could pour into the lavish cream-coloured room. The bright sunlight fell onto opulent furnishing, highlighting deep blush-pink brocade curtains and an elegant desk and chairs in a circular alcove in the far corner, casting the room's furnishings in a golden glow that prettily accented the lighter pinks and golds that had been worked into the room's colours. Pleasant paintings of forest groves and lakesides, flower-filled gardens and soft, dull plains of grass hung with orderly precision on the walls on either side of the doorway, as well as on the wall to Lea's left.

Her small nose screwed in distaste at the flowery femininity that encompassed the room, but the gentleness of the decor seemed to soothe her restless mind. Lea's hands swept absently over the soft covers, back and forth, back and forth, until the initial panic of the nightmare gradually ground to a halt under the assault of her pastel environment. She tried to remember how she'd got here, but her mind was blank, barely wrestling out of exhaustion, as sore and aching as her battered body.

Carefully, Lea slid off the bedcovers and looked down.

Her expression turned almost comical in its surprise. She was still wearing her beige tunic and brown trousers. But this wasn't what startled her. Her clothes had been scrubbed clean and were torn far more badly than she remembered, almost as though someone had consciously ripped them at certain areas. Beneath the tears, Lea glimpsed bandages on her arms, another at her right shoulder. Poultices were applied to the deep wounds in her thigh and side, more bandages on her legs.

"My bandages," Lea muttered, and hastily lifted up her shirt. There was a moment of fearful panic. Abruptly, her breath hissed out in relief. The winding piece of cloth she'd wrapped around her torso was still in place. But doubt immediately clouded her features. These swathes were a pristine white; hers had been stained with blood and dirt. If a healer had removed the original cloth, treated any wounds beneath it, before replacing it with new, clean bandages, they would have seen...

Lea shook her head, wisely decided not to follow that thought to its sickening conclusion. Right now, she had more to worry about than the sharp eyes of an unknown healer. Carefully, Lea let her tunic down over her bandaged torso – and ruthlessly revisited the details of her escape and subsequent rescue.

Or should she say capture? Her complexion turned wan. Her brow furrowed as she played with the bandage on her arm. "No, he took pity on me," Lea said aloud. "Why harm me after all the trouble he took to save my life?"

But the question remained: where had he taken her? Wherever this was, it had better be on Lorien's side of the border.

"Weapon first," she said more loudly. "Worrying second." Taking a deep breath, Lea slid off the bed. Her legs almost gave. A muffled oath escaped her, hastily swallowed as she hobbled to the nearest bedpost. She clung tightly to it while she caught her breath, and took a moment to systematically catalogue every item in the room that she could see. She would need to find a weapon as soon as she could. And – apparently – crutches. But not now. Definitely not now.

Stifling a whimper of pain, she limped over to the arching windows. A soft breeze heralded her first glimpse of clear blue sky and drew a small, instinctive sigh from Lea's lips – it was darkness and confined spaces that were her unfortunate weakness. "I'm really not back there," she said to herself, half-disbelievingly. A smile came to her lips, only to die near instantly. "But I'll have to go back."

Ripples of laughter spilled out from somewhere below her. The sound was infectious. Lea looked down absently. Her fingers gripped hard to the window frame. She actually took a step back, sucked in a harsh breath. This had to be a tower; she was so high above the ground it was a wonder she'd heard anyone's laughter at all.

Far below was a broad sandstone courtyard leaning into a maze of tall hedgerows at its end. She could see tiny figures, people sitting down or walking through the courtyard and the maze. Many of the figures were gathered in small groups. Others walked alone or side by side with a companion. The sight was oddly reassuring: nobody was exhibiting signs of being forcibly confined in this place. Not from up here anyway. To be certain though, she would have to observe them up close.

The thought of leaving the quiet bedroom made Lea droop wearily where she stood. She leaned her elbows against the dark window frame and held her chin in her palm as she shifted her gaze over the rest of the grounds. The view was pleasing, singularly unthreatening, and – seemed to go on forever. Wherever this was, it was a very rich estate indeed. The green maze below abutted extensive grounds ornamented with classically designed fountains and statues. After some distance of this, there stretched a generous length of plain grassland, rising into a range of small hills. Lea's eyes narrowed into slits. Beyond those tidy hillocks, shrouded in mist, a forest stretched out in a long sweep of green, unfurling towards the horizon.

With a sudden frown, she turned away. Nothing in the scene was familiar, could help her to identify where she was. But how could that be? She remembered again how well dressed her rescuer had been. Could she be in a keep belonging to one of Lorien's more reclusive nobles? Were there any reclusive nobles she knew of with equally reclusive sons? None came to mind.

The old, worrying possibility presented itself: had she been sold by a slaver to serve a Makliaven noble in an isolated estate? Lea wrapped her arms around herself very quietly. And if so, where in Makliaven?

As though in answer to the question, the hint of a familiar shadowed structure caught her eye. Far in the distance to Lea's right, a tall white monolith rose high towards the sky. Something about the rising silhouette tugged at Lea, demanding recognition. When she finally turned away from the pale structure, confusion filled her eyes. She moved back a pace, her hands clasping together nervously. This could not be.

As though mocking her disbelief, a black edifice fell into her line of vision, on her left this time. Shock replaced confusion. Lea stared at the dark shape for the longest time. Her lips parted slightly in a mixture of awe and fear.

Someone knocked on the door.

Tearing her gaze from the startling view outside her window, Lea hastily hobbled back to her bed, and quickly rearranged the covers over herself. The door opened just as she leaned back against the lavish bed's headboard, her expression subdued and – she hoped – artfully weak.

"Good morning," said her visitor, and walked briskly into the room. "You have surprised us by recovering so quickly."

The newcomer's voice was cultured, his accent vaguely foreign to Lea's ears, but his tone was low and of a rich, pleasant timbre. She looked up despite herself, not knowing what to expect, and found her eyes widening. This was definitely not the dark-eyed stranger who'd saved her in the forest.

Standing just inside the doorway, this man was much taller than Lea herself, well over six feet. Thick, black hair fell to just above his shoulders. A handsome enough face sat on those shoulders, with elegant bone structure that reminded Lea of the oldest of Lorien's noble lines. Like them, this man possessed a certain easy arrogance in his expression, in the way he held himself, as though he was born to rule over others. An aura of wealth and power surrounded him, clung to him like a second skin, and it didn't come purely as a result of his lithe build or the expensive clothing he wore.

Still, Lea couldn't help admiring the man's grey silk shirt with its sleeves that billowed so fashionably at the wrist. That high, curved neckline with dark jewels sewn into the hem was something Lea had not seen before. And his fitted dark trousers fell to feet encased in snug black boots that flared slightly at his calves.

A glimmer of something at his throat brought Lea's attention to a thin silver chain hung around the man's neck, dropping into an elegant silver and gold amulet that rested on his shirt over the hollow at his throat. The more striking touch of colour that caught Lea's eye however came from the glinting ruby red ring that adorned the man's right hand. Her gaze paused for a moment on that lavish jewel in its gold setting. The ring was an unusual and luxurious piece. She'd not seen something like it outside very few homes in Lorien.

While she studied him so silently, the man had done Lea the courtesy of surveying her intently in turn, his eyes travelling first over her face and then moving to her clothes and bandages and, finally, her bare feet peeping out from under the bedcovers, one foot half bandaged, the other covered with superficial cuts and bruises. His thorough perusal complete, his gaze darted up to Lea's, quiet and considering. "A few more days of rest would have been better in your circumstances."

As he looked across the room at her, Lea's thoughts were flung into disarray. He had the most startling blue eyes she had ever seen. Unnerved, confused by her reaction to that blue stare, Lea quickly diverted her attention to her hands. "If you mean that I should go back to sleep, I'm afraid that I cannot," she found herself saying, quite before she could stop herself.

Immediately the words were out, Lea knew it was true. There was a restlessness running in her veins, an edgy echo of the nightmare that had awoken her to begin with. She dared not sleep just yet.

"May I ask why?" the man asked.

There was something in his demeanour that made Lea think twice about speaking her thoughts aloud; something that made her afraid he would see through any lie she spouted in his presence.

"You will feel better once you drink more of your tonic," the man said suddenly. "The effects of the last dose must have worn off."

"Tonic?" Lea shifted uneasily on the bed, and wondered when he would introduce himself. It would be improper for her to ask him his name when she was so clearly his guest in this place. _Guest_ , Lea reminded herself forcefully. _Not prisoner_. "I do not remember drinking a tonic."

"It has been administered daily to aid in your healing," the man informed her. "You were not sleeping well after you collapsed."

Strangely, she didn't remember that – the collapsing. All she could recollect was arguing with the youth in the forest as he'd forcibly carried her off with him. What had they been arguing about again?

"It will come back to you," her host observed.

"What?"

"Your memories. They should return very soon."

Her gaze was caught and held by his. "Yes," she whispered. "Of course they will."

Fear pinched sharp in Lea's gut. She might not know the children of all Lorien and Makliaven nobles – the stranger in the forest might have been unrecognisable to her – but she knew all ruling nobles in the two kingdoms by name and appearance. And she didn't recognise this man.

If he noticed the sudden flash of fear in Lea's eyes, her visitor didn't show it. Instead, he walked further into the room, displaying a lack of etiquette that surprised her, disoriented her; he should have introduced himself by now.

"We will arrange for your healer to visit you later today," the man remarked. Beneath his lavish attire, his body was all lean muscles on a lithe frame so that he moved across the room with a careless, fluid stride that instinctively drew Lea's respect. She watched him with a kind of helpless wariness, achingly aware of how defenceless she was. If this room was his... If she was here as part of some lurid scene of forcible seduction...

But he didn't come to the bed as she'd half expected. Instead, the fellow walked to Lea's left. Pale, elegant hands deftly drew open heavy damask curtains, allowing more light to spill into the room through floor to ceiling glass doors that Lea hadn't realised lay just to the left of the open windows. She winced as the additional light pierced her senses, and spied a small balcony through the glass, with intricate black ironwork for its waist-high railings.

While her attention was occupied, her visitor suddenly pulled out one of the elegant chairs that sat next to the antique writing desk in the corner of the room.

Lea jerked sharply to attention.

The man's eyes darted briefly to hers. There was a glimmer of amusement in those blue eyes and in the curve of his lips, but his smile died so quickly that Lea blinked, unsure if she'd seen it; in its place was something more enigmatic. "I did not mean to startle you."

_Didn't you?_ But Lea didn't voice the suspicion. Instead, she watched in increasing alarm as her visitor drew his chair close to the bed. He sat down on it and crossed those long legs in one smooth movement. His eyes were facing hers now, point blank and quite expressionless. Lea didn't bother to dodge their brilliant stare.

"I will not hurt you," was the first thing he said. "You have nothing to fear from me."

Of course I don't.

"My name is Gabriel. Gabriel Amarinth."

The name didn't mean anything to her. Lea's eyes stayed fixed on his face. She didn't think she could look away if she wanted to.

"You do not believe that I mean you no harm," Gabriel observed conversationally. "You survived a bad assault on your person, and are suspicious of someone you do not know. That is understandable. Perhaps you would like to speak with my apprentice instead? Caleb was the young man who found you in the forest. He brought you to me so that we could help you. We were greatly concerned by what he told us. Would you like to speak to Caleb?"

There was a pause while Lea's eyes, if possible, turned even wider on his. There was a sudden memory of welcoming lake waters. Her fingers curled into light fists on the covers.

Deep blue eyes darted down, then slid back up to her face. "By 'concerned'," Gabriel said after a moment, "I refer merely to the depth of your injuries, not – That is, Caleb informed me of..."

Yet another pause fell, as though he was debating the wisdom of saying what came next, but Lea had already guessed. Her heart sank.

"It seemed your ordeal caused you to disregard the value of your own life," Gabriel said finally. "Is that correct?"

The silence seemed to echo the hammering of her heart. For the first time, Lea envied the abilities of her contemporaries at court; they'd always been able to faint at the drop of a hat. Her dark-eyed rescuer had informed his master about what happened, had he? She didn't know why she felt so betrayed suddenly, but that was exactly the word to describe the humiliating mix of anger and confusion swirling within her. "Yes," she said curtly. "I wished to die. I _intended_ to die. I will not apologise for that."

"I did not bring the matter up in order to obtain an apology," her visitor replied calmly. "We would merely like to be informed should –"

"I intend to try again?" Lea said bitterly. "You needn't worry. I dishonoured myself enough the first time."

"– should the memory of the event disturb you," he ended at the same time. There was a brief pause. Gabriel raised an enquiring brow. "What was that about dishonouring yourself?"

Lea opened her mouth, then shut it again and turned away in confusion. _Guard your tongue. He's not as stupid as his apprentice._

Gabriel tapped his fingertips very lightly together. "You will not find yourself judged here," he said finally. "Nor found wanting for a decision made out of fear and desperation."

She lifted her head reluctantly. "Thank you, my lord."

"Oh, do not thank me just yet," was his pleasant reply. "I must make it clear to you that what happened in the forest has nothing to do with the fact that you will carry no weapon within these walls." He held up a finger when she opened her mouth to respond. "It is a rule all our guests abide by, barring some few exceptions. You will not be one of those exceptions."

"But, my lord," Lea said at once. "I don't understand why –"

"The subject is not up for debate."

"But I –"

"Do I have your understanding?" Gabriel said, very softly.

Lea's mouth opened, then closed abruptly. Everything in her wanted to voice her demands, _make_ him listen to her. But there had been something in his voice that reminded her she was at his mercy. This man wasn't a fighter, but he could hold his own if he had to, must play an active part in the administration of his estate for him to have made the decision to train his body to match his mind; he looked entirely too capable, too adept, to sit back quietly while hired hands managed his fortunes and guarded his lands. Witness his lack of fear at confronting her without a circle of armed guards to protect him; very few nobles she knew of would dare approach a stranger with such unconcern for his own safety.

"I expect an answer when I ask a question," Gabriel said suddenly, and her eyes jerked to his in surprise.

"Yes, I – I'm sorry," Lea said. "You... Of course you have my understanding. I must seem rude for – for not thanking you for all your help, but –"

"We could do no less. Your injuries were severe."

She gritted her teeth, was forced to reply politely, "You must have excellent healers at your disposal." A small pause. "But what I really –"

"We do. They have tended to you for some days now."

Another silence fell between them, one that was pregnant with an unspoken question. Lea realised her fingers had fisted again; the matter of her not being allowed to carry a weapon on her person disintegrated into ashes. "How many days have I been asleep?" she asked very politely.

Gabriel's lashes fell for the briefest moment. When they rose, there was no expression in his brilliant blue eyes. "A week."

"A week?" Lea repeated blankly. It was a struggle to contain her emotions. "A week? A _week_? A –" With an iron will, she stopped herself from repeating the words once more in that thin, high voice, and swallowed hard. "A w-week, my lord?"

"You seem surprised," Gabriel remarked. "But yes, seven days have passed since Caleb brought you to us."

"I don't understand," Lea said at last. She dropped her gaze to the smooth satin coverlet, unable to look him in the face when she felt so – lost. "How could I have been lying unconscious for an entire week?"

"If Caleb had not found you when he did, it would have been far longer. Or not at all."

There was nothing to say to this, so Lea kept silent once more, her fingers fidgeting with soft satin now, her mind in a whirl. After a moment, she became aware that Gabriel was studying her closely. The attention made her feel a bit like a fish in a fish bowl. She looked up with reluctance.

Her host's eyes were even more vivid a blue than she'd realised earlier, but up close there was a touch of grey in those azure depths as well. And his face, built on sharp, angular lines, was just a bit unusual in some way that Lea couldn't place. She didn't like that, that she couldn't identify what was wrong – or right – with this man's face. He looked almost too perfect; too neat, too handsome, too elegant. The type of nobleman who would never be caught dead with a face as smudged and dirty as hers had been when she'd first entered the forest.

It now felt well-scrubbed, her face, just like the rest of her. Absently, Lea brought her fingers up to touch her throat, very lightly. The wounds on her body were healing well beneath the soreness. The ugly bruises on her hands had all but disappeared. But, Lea knew, there were other injuries – less visible – injuries that would probably never heal...

"Do you remember how you got here?" Gabriel asked abruptly.

She wished she didn't. Her hand fell from her throat. "There was someone in the forest..."

"Caleb," he reminded her politely.

"Yes, Caleb." Lea repeated. Those blue eyes continued with their unwavering appraisal, and Lea had the awful feeling he knew exactly who she was. She transferred her gaze to somewhere over his left shoulder. "Your son, my lord?"

"Apprentice," was her visitor's mild reply. "Have you forgotten so quickly?"

She flushed. "Yes, of course. Your apprentice." How absurd. Neither administrators nor nobles had need of apprentices. What could Caleb possibly be apprenticed _in_? A small frown came to Lea's face. She daren't look Gabriel in the eyes right now. His striking gaze still felt like it was boring holes into her weary face. Didn't he think it rude to stare at her so openly? No, he probably didn't. This was beginning to resemble... And suddenly Lea knew she was right; this was an interrogation. "It was... fortunate that your apprentice came along when he did, my lord," she said absently.

"That is one word for it, yes."

This time, Gabriel did not seem inclined to break the quiet pause that followed. It was Lea's turn to make a meaningful contribution to the conversation. But all she could think of was that her manner didn't suit the mantle of peasant any more, if it ever had. Her tone had been too cultured, her choice of words too articulate, her manners too – genteel, ever since this conversation had begun. She cringed inside. Such carelessness would have been unforgiveable in normal circumstances, but these were hardly normal circumstances, were they?

Before the silence could turn oppressive, she ventured a quiet, "Did Caleb tell you anything about me? About how he found me, I mean."

"Unsure what you told him, hmmm?"

"No, I – Of course not," Lea protested, and bit her lip. "I just... I can't quite _recall_..."

"I see." Gabriel leaned back in his seat, legs crossed elegantly, booted foot gently swaying to and fro. "What _do_ you remember of your meeting?"

"Not much," she admitted.

"Oh?" Her host tilted his head to the side. "You were near enough to death when my apprentice found you, but I would not have thought your memory affected as badly as this."

Lea wisely took refuge in silence once more.

"Do you remember your name?"

"My name?" She stared at him blankly.

"It is customary to have a name you call your own, yes."

She couldn't help flushing at touch of mockery in his voice. "Did I not tell Caleb my name?" Lea said at last. Her hands were clasped so tightly they had gone numb. "Did he not tell you what it was?"

"It might be well if you tell me your name too," Gabriel suggested rather blandly. "Caleb might have made a mistake."

"I'm sure he wouldn't have. Made a mistake."

"I'm certain you do not mean to keep me waiting much longer."

She bit her lip. And then, her voice low, "What if I can't remember it?"

A short silence fell. "You can't remember your own name?" Gabriel said after a moment. His foot stopped its swaying for the space of a second. "Your injuries must have been more severe than we thought."

Lea regarded him mutely. The truth was she couldn't remember what she'd told _Caleb_ her name was.

All of a sudden, Gabriel's lips lifted up at the corners. "You told my apprentice," he observed, "that your name is Hannah."

For a moment, Lea was too startled by the transformation that smile wrought on Gabriel's neat features to register what he said. And then, "Oh." She paused for a heartbeat. "Hannah?" And as she looked into unexpectedly warm blue eyes, a spirit of mischief reared its head in her. "But that isn't my name."

Gabriel's booted foot stilled in its lazy movement. His friendliness left him as though it had never been. He leaned forward, his eyes intent on hers. "It's not?"

Lea managed a demure shake of her head; dare she bait him?

"What is your name then?"

For the briefest instant, she seriously considered pushing the boundaries of truth yet wider between them. But something told Lea that this man knew she was no peasant, that she had been nowhere near careful enough in her speech and mannerisms to convince either Caleb or him as such. It would be best to skirt as close to the truth as she dared.

"Lea," she said quietly. "My name is Lea."

"Lea," Gabriel repeated very softly, and she had the funniest feeling he had known that was her name all along. "And your full name?"

This time she didn't hesitate. "Lea Tornith."

"Tornith... That does not sound like the name belonging to a Lorien peasant."

"You might say that I have an unusual – pedigree."

"Indeed." His expression was wry. "May I enquire as to this unusual pedigree, Lea Tornith?"

Limpid brown eyes met calm blue, then fell to perusing satin sheets instead.

"I see," he said slowly, and she wondered just what he saw. "Not just yet then, Lea Tornith. But you must illuminate something else for me. Why did you refuse Caleb's help when he first found you in the forest?"

That snitch. Lea couldn't keep her lips from pressing together in displeasure. "Yes, I suppose that I – I didn't want his help," she said finally, and found Gabriel watching her with a sudden hard light in his eyes. "But I had no reason to trust your apprentice. I could not be sure he intended me no harm. And – I could have made it out of there on my own."

"I doubt that." Gabriel watched as Lea opened her mouth to retort, only to abruptly clamp her lips shut. "Quite so," he said softly. "My apprentice saved your life. Was such assistance not worthy of your trust? Of your courtesy, at the least?"

"I was courteous," she said at once. "How dare he say any different!"

"He informs me you threatened him with bodily harm."

"I... Well, yes, I..." she stammered, and took a breath. "He might be right about that?"

"Is that a question or an admission?"

Some of her old spirit surged back. " _If_ your apprentice assisted me," Lea said with asperity, "it was without my consent. So you can understand, my lord, if my reaction was less than friendly when I first met him."

"Consent seems a poor reason to refuse someone help," Gabriel remarked, and rendered her silent once more. "But I am glad your memory is returning to you so clearly. I was surprised to learn," he continued while Lea stared at him with a rather confused expression on her face, "that your injuries were caused by robbers. You told Caleb that bandits robbed your caravan, yes?"

His tone implied he gave no credit whatsoever to what Lea had told his apprentice.

A slow flush spread up the back of her neck. She forced herself to lean back against her bed's headboard very slowly, compose herself before answering her enigmatic host. That black-eyed apprentice had told his beloved master she'd lied, had he?

"Caleb said you were on a trader's route when your party was ambushed," Gabriel went on when Lea stayed silent. "That was disturbing to hear. There are armed patrols on those routes; I would not think most bandits would risk their necks attacking a well-protected caravan the way they did yours."

"They must have been a desperate band," Lea suggested.

Gabriel smiled. It was a very bland smile. "Quite so. But I was even more disturbed," he remarked, "to hear that the bandits followed you into the forest. They are the first Makliaven bandits to have risked their skins in such a fashion. I'm certain they wouldn't want to repeat the same error twice. They will not return for you."

Her mouth tightened. She wouldn't count on that.

"The bandits _were_ from Makliaven, were they not?" Gabriel asked suddenly.

Lea took a breath. "I could have been mistaken." She stared down at her hands, beginning to hate the sight of those fidgeting fingers, so pale and thin they seemed to belong to someone else. _Focus, Lea, focus_. "I told you," she went on. "I can't really remember everything very clearly, but... Well, when I think about it now – it is possible that some of the bandits were from my home kingdom. From... from Lorien."

"Oh?"

He was all polite enquiry, except that Lea suddenly heard the suggestion of teeth beneath that quiet voice. Her gaze slid to Gabriel's, then past him, before returning to her hands. The room seemed far too quiet after he'd entered it. Now she knew why: when had he shut the windows? She clasped her fingers together nervously.

"What makes you think they were not from Makliaven?" Gabriel prompted when she stayed silent.

"Lorien's robbers," Lea reasoned, "would not have stopped at the forest border. Do you not think so, my lord? They wouldn't have ceased their pursuit the way Makliaven bandits would have. Not if they felt their prey was worth pursuing. They must have thought I carried my lord's takings for the season with me since we were on our return journey." She let out a tired breath. "I think I told your apprentice this already, so I really don't see why –"

"Yes, he told me what you said to him."

"Then this information must no longer be of interest to you."

"Oh, but I find this information of great interest," Gabriel disagreed gently, "given its source."

And Lea went quite cold.
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Chapter 5

Those mocking blue eyes had narrowed knowingly on hers. The frantic drumbeat of her heart inside her chest was becoming alarming. Lea's fingers crept to the collar of her shirt, absently tried to loosen it. Her eyes slid to the closed room door. "I... I don't know what you mean, my lord," she managed somehow. "S-source, my lord?"

"Oh, someone who has personally experienced such an assault," Gabriel explained pleasantly. "Such a person could provide valuable information for us to work with – to prevent such an event from happening again, you understand." He paused suddenly. "Is something wrong, my dear?"

She tried for a small smile, but her facial muscles felt locked in place.

Gabriel's face turned more expressionless than ever. "You look as though you're about to faint." He paused, and for the first time Lea thought she spied a hint of doubt on his fine features. "You're not going to faint, are you?"

"Oh no, I'm fine," Lea assured him, with an accompanying shake of her head. A smile trembled to her lips. She wouldn't faint, but she did feel like she was going to throw up. Her heart was still thundering in her ears. "I just feel tired, that's all."

"Why don't I believe you?" And he was on his feet, walking away from the bed.

"Don't believe – My lord, where are you going?" Lea said sharply, and actually wiped the flat of her palm against a clammy forehead. This man was going to give her a heart attack. "Why would you not believe me? I assure you, my lord, I have not lied to you. Not... not knowingly," she added quickly, and watched with drawn brows as Gabriel reached the windows.

"Of course you haven't," was Gabriel's very cool reply. "You were merely trying to be polite. I closed the windows to ensure you wouldn't catch a chill, but obviously...." He turned to look at her over his shoulder before unlatching the shut windowpanes and flinging them wide open once more. "Your nerves are in a rather more – delicate – state than I had thought. You need the air more than you do anything else."

Lea's forehead crinkled in puzzlement. Had she been so transparent?

"There... You're not going to faint on me now, are you?" Gabriel enquired from where he stood by the windows.

"Thank you," she said very slowly, and leaned back against her pillows. "I... I feel better already." There was an unsettling feeling growing inside her, a sense that she'd fallen into a trap all over again. "What time is it, my lord? I notice there are no timepieces in the room."

He turned to her with a faint smile. "Invalids do not usually require timepieces," Gabriel remarked. "Ah, that rankled, did it?" He walked past her, around her bed to the other side. "I suppose you are used to being up and about on that farm you speak of."

"I don't take very well to – to lying abed all day," she agreed, and watched with suspicion as he bent to her small side-table. She'd seen that jug of water sitting by a half-full glass earlier but hadn't trusted the contents to be free of anything harmful. Now that he was bringing her the drink, her doubts seemed moot; anything would be better than arousing Gabriel's suspicions at this point. He already looked at her as though she were a consummate liar and thief.

"Drink this, please," Gabriel said, handing her the glass of water. "It will make you feel better."

"Thank you," she said and took the slim glass with reluctance. He'd filled it to the brim. Carefully, Lea raised the glass to her lips, paused for a split second when she detected the touch of a delicate fragrance to it – flowers, or berries perhaps – then took a sip. Warmth spread through her in a heady rush, swirling all the way from the ends of her curls to the tips of her toes. The dull soreness that had plagued her since she'd awoken seemed to drift away. "Oh," Lea breathed, going still, and took a longer sip. "This is very good."

"It contains the tonic I mentioned earlier," Gabriel said quietly. He was standing over her, watching intently as she downed the glass of water. "It will make you feel much stronger, far more awake. No, don't stop. Drain the glass completely, please."

His tone would normally have made her temper flare, but Gabriel's peremptory bedside manner felt inconsequential next to the effect of the cool, fragrant water. As the drink spilled down her throat, Lea could feel her senses turn more alert, sluggishness receding to be replaced by a sudden rush of energy, of strength. She handed the empty glass back to Gabriel with a rather startled look on her face. "I've never had anything like that," she said wonderingly. The only part of her that still hurt was her leg, and even that didn't ache as badly as it had earlier. "I don't feel tired anymore. Or in pain."

"You won't feel hungry either." Gabriel returned the glass to its place by the jug. "Not for some time. I doubt you'd be able to keep food down just yet anyway. Nothing heavy. Perhaps later in the day..." He glanced down at her as he returned to his seat, and sudden amusement sparked in his blue eyes. "I see that suggestion finds favour with you, hmmm?"

"I'm starving," Lea admitted, and looked surprised. "I guess I'm not really a – a soup-person, my lord."

"I didn't think you were," he remarked. And before she could decipher that cryptic comment, Gabriel said briskly, "Let us return to this matter of the bandits. It concerns me excessively."

"Surely it not as unusual as all that, my lord." It was hard to keep her impatience from her voice after turning so awake, that bit stronger. "There's been talk that thieves from the two kingdoms have been combining forces lately," Lea added. "Deriving strength from numbers."

"This is the first time I have heard of such a thing," Gabriel said thoughtfully. "Where did you hear this?"

Without missing a beat, "Oh, just from – rumours." Lea could have kicked herself for the slip. "Everyone knows there are groups in collusion with each other nowadays."

"Everyone? Groups?" A pensive expression descended on his features. "To think, I thought this attack on your person was an aberration." Gabriel's smile was very cool. "It seems the world outside my walls would see it as a common enough event."

"Well, I –" Lea shifted uncomfortably on the bed. She could have sworn there'd been a sardonic glint in her visitor's eyes. "That's what the rumours say anyway. That these robbers travel in large groups."

"Strength in numbers, yes? Much like a carnival troupe." A lazy smile touched his lips. "I would expect no less of rumours, but I had not expected the truth to be quite so dramatic. Or vicious. You were very badly injured, Lea Tornith. You had your dagger with you still, but I was surprised you managed to hold to it under the assault you describe."

It was with effort that Lea remembered to stick close to the truth. "So was I. I've not known them to be this vicious," she agreed. "The bandits normally leave their victims unharmed, even if lead traders are beaten up sometimes to ensure obedience from others in their trading caravans. Instilling fear has always been the bandits' way, but never through truly violent means, merely the potential for such violence."

"I wonder what made them alter their ways when it came to your caravan."

"I suspect we'll never know." Her head was beginning to pound again. So much for the tonic. "Perhaps your family's guards would be sufficient to deter such attempts closer to your estates though, my lord?"

Her attempt at gaining information was wasted.

"You should rest," Gabriel remarked. "I believe I over-estimated the rate of your recovery."

There'd been a grim note in his voice, and Lea looked up to find Gabriel watching her with an odd look on his face, almost as though he was displeased about something. Or angry.

The expression left him so swiftly that she blinked. "Is something wrong, my lord?" Lea said. Had she offended him somehow? At the thought, her heart fell somewhere to her stomach. This man held her freedom in his elegant hands, even if he didn't know it. "If I said something to offend you, I apologise, my lord. That was not my intent."

Gabriel eased back in his seat. "It is not your words which offended me, but the reminder of what you experienced. It is – disturbing – to think of an unprotected innocent falling prey to a band of robbers."

An 'unprotected innocent'? Lea's lips trembled from an unexpected urge to laugh. More than ever, she wished she could have overheard what Caleb told his master when he'd first brought her to this place. "I was not totally without protection, my lord," she reminded him. "My caravan had guards to protect it. Unfortunately," she said, spreading her hands eloquently for emphasis, "my uncle's hired hands were unable to repel our attackers."

That booted foot once again swung back and forth, back and forth. "Come, you are looking paler than you did when I first walked in. Let us talk of something more pleasant than bandits and robbery," Gabriel suggested. "Tell me about your uncle. Caleb told me you are in his employ, yes?"

Lea nodded, wondering what was behind this particular change of topic. "I... I work at one of the smaller Lorien farms," she said carefully. Her eyes dropped to her hands once more. They were trembling. She pressed them tightly together, hoping Gabriel hadn't witnessed the sudden weakness. "My uncle – he owns the farm – intended to apprentice me to a trader in the city. This was supposed to be an easy consignment – a test, if you will – to confirm my readiness to be awarded an apprenticeship. Some –"

"A coveted position, I presume?"

She paused. "What?"

"The apprenticeship," Gabriel reminded her softly, and raised a brow. "With the trader in the city? Would that be a coveted position amongst your peers?"

"Y-yes, of course it... Why do you ask, my lord?"

"Oh, no reason," he said politely. "Please, continue."

"Some of our caravans," Lea began again, "had been attacked by bandits before.

"Many?"

"Many?" Faint irritation crossed her features. "Many bandits?"

He smiled. "Caravans."

She took in a breath. "Not many, no. But enough. I –"

"Enough for what?"

A small pause. "For us to be wary of encountering more bandits on our routes, of course," Lea said at last. She found that she was speaking through her teeth. "My uncle took precautions so that – Private guards were hired to accompany me," Lea said quickly when it looked like Gabriel would interrupt again. "But obviously, our precautions were not enough." She paused, uncertain how they had come back to the topic of the bandits, and glanced at Gabriel.

"We do not have to speak further about this," her host said easily. "The subject obviously distresses you. Our healers would be appalled if they knew that your first hour up was spent reliving the events which led to your injuries."

Briefly thinking that it was too late to worry about that now, Lea murmured a low, "It doesn't matter anyway. Our caravan was taken. I... I will have to return home to my uncle with the news that I lost him his wares."

"Lea Tornith. That is an unusual name for a peasant," Gabriel said into the following silence.

She wet suddenly dry lips. "Yes, you said that before."

"So I did," he replied softly, watching as she averted her face from him. "I have yet to hear an explanation for your very unusual name, Lea Tornith. I must confess I am curious. You do not seem like any – peasant – I've ever met."

Lea was silent for a moment. As questions went, she supposed this was the most reasonable one Gabriel Amarinth had asked her yet. He would have no idea it was the one she would hate the most. Keeping her face turned away from his, she began the familiar story. "My father was a merchant," Lea explained quietly, "but my mother – she was well-born." She dared a glance Gabriel's way, watching as his brows darted up in surprise. Whatever his thoughts were though, he didn't interrupt her this time. "They had a difficult life. My mother's family never forgave her for deserting her heritage. Sometimes I think they were in the right."

"You surprise me," he said expressionlessly.

"Not... not in the way it sounds," Lea was quick to say. "That's not why I accepted her family's name as my own."

"You would have had no choice in any event," Gabriel pointed out. "It is the custom, is it not, for children of Lorien nobles to retain their names even if they are born outside legitimate noble lines?"

"Custom would not have stopped me from renouncing them the way they renounced her," Lea scoffed.

"Oh?" He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "So, what did stop you?"

Lea hesitated. It would be easy to let him think what he must already be thinking; that she was unwilling to throw away the powerful reputation and connections that a noble name would possess. But something made her decide that this too must be as close to the truth as she could make it. "You see," Lea said softly, and looked down. "You see, my... my mother died when I was still a child." A small pause. "So, you see, I couldn't throw her name away. It was all I had left of her."

"I am sorry."

For once, Lea could make out only genuine sympathy in Gabriel's rich voice. She grimaced and lifted her eyes to his. "The life of a merchant's wife must have been harder than she'd imagined it would be," she said steadily. "That's what everyone tells me. I'll never really know though, I suppose. I've never really known what my parents' lives were like then even though I wish I did." Lea paused abruptly. She hadn't meant to say that. A small frown entered her eyes.

"It's in the past now anyway," she mumbled, and looked down at her hands again. It was strange to see her skin free of the dark bruises she had worn for so long. She'd never have thought they could heal in a mere week. Gabriel Amarinth's healers must be miracle workers indeed.

"I don't know why I'm talking to you about this now," she remarked. "It's all in the past after all, so... And I was a toddler, really. I can't even remember my mother." Lea pressed her lips tightly together. She hadn't meant that to come out either. _Don't let him spook you._

"That cannot have been easy, to live without a mother from such a young age."

His voice was even gentler than before. He must have sensed her agitation. Or maybe it was written all over her face, Lea thought. She shrugged. "It's no more than most families have had to cope with after the last war with Makliaven," she pointed out and looked up once more. "I've lost count of the number of people I know who've lost loved ones because Makliaven's King decided one morning to make it his life's mission to conquer his neighbouring kingdom, no matter the cost to his people. Or ours."

Some dark emotion flashed across Gabriel's face.

Distaste, Lea realised suddenly. It was distaste. Her heart lightened. Whoever or whatever he might be, Gabriel Amarinth was not a supporter of Makliaven's mad monarch. Dare she tell him the truth? Would he help her to return to Lorien if she asked for his help?

"You haven't told me yet how you came to work at your uncle's farm," Gabriel said suddenly. "Have you worked there long?"

"My father's business interests were dwindling directly after the last war." She pulled a face. "Rations were scarce, let alone moneyed patrons. You must know how it was." Lea paused. He might, in fact, have been wealthy enough _not_ to have known how it was. When she continued, her voice was quite grim. "We were lucky when my uncle – my father's brother – agreed to allow me a place at his farm if I agreed to follow him in his trade. Our circumstances were difficult enough that my father easily agreed I join him."

"I'm surprised he made such a decision."

"It was understandable under the circumstances," Lea said stiffly. Any criticism of those she considered family would always raise her ire. "My father comes to visit me often to ensure all is well, that I am safe where I am. It's an arrangement which suits everyone, not least myself." Lea added with some pride, "It was my father's idea that I dress as a boy to ensure my safety, so that my work would not be as dangerous as it could have been."

"Such a disguise is becoming a common one," Gabriel remarked.

"Especially for women travelling alone into Makliaven territory," Lea agreed.

"But you were not alone," Gabriel pointed out. "You were accompanied by private guards."

An awkward pause fell upon them.

"All the more reason," Lea said at last, "not to reveal my sex. As I said, my lord, the point of my dressing as a boy was to avoid trouble." Her headache was becoming worse. "The guards for the caravan were hired hands. My uncle no more trusted them than I did."

Gabriel made a soft, 'tut-tut'-ing sound, as though he _of course_ agreed with her. His bland expression never wavered.

Lea's eyes narrowed slightly. "As it was," she continued after a moment, "my disguise benefitted no one at the end."

"Except the bandits," Gabriel noted. And when Lea's face showed her confusion, he explained simply, "They would have expected to face a hardened warrior, not a young girl fleeing capture. Imagine how pleased they would have been to discover the ruse. One less guard to fight with for the spoils."

"I held my own well enough," Lea objected indignantly. But she couldn't stop a sudden, wry smile from peeping out. "Up to the point I fled capture. No, you're right. I'll admit I didn't stay to test my mettle against a pack of alley cutthroats. But I still believe they would not have known I wasn't a boy."

"Are you so well-practised at playing the opposite gender then?" Gabriel wondered. "Even in a fight?"

She shrugged. "I have reasons to be confident in a battle. My father travelled a lot himself. A young child might have been considered an easy target for... unsavoury characters. So my father taught me to fight from a very young age." She dimpled. "Took me with him to the underground fighting circuits in both kingdoms. I loved watching the matches, even more than he did."

Gabriel's brows jerked up. "That is an unusual practice surely, especially for one of well-born ancestry. Did your mother not object?"

"I'm sure she did." Lea shrugged, and added honestly, "But if she did, I can no longer remember. Most of my lessons occurred after her death, as did those visits to the fighter's circuits."

That seemed to give Gabriel pause. "Yes, of course." He studied Lea carefully. "What about after you joined your uncle? Your manners, your turn of speech..." Gabriel surveyed her quietly for a moment, "are not those of a peasant, Lea Tornith."

"Oh, I have been trained in the more refined arts as well as any of my peers," she assured him cheerfully. "I confess, I preferred learning to use my fists to playing dress-up and acquiring fancy manners or the skills of archaic needlepoint, but I think my father wanted me to honour my mother's memory by ensuring I was as accomplished as any noblewoman born into a great family. He spared no expense on that score, even after I was sent off to live with Uncle Theo."

"Who had no objection to receiving a nephew instead of a niece..."

"My uncle had always wished for a son of his own; I believe he always saw me as more a nephew than a niece anyway, so –"

"Most convenient," Gabriel murmured.

Lea was beginning to feel the same way, but she had started this, and it was too late to come up with something else. "So," she continued rather forcefully, "my attire was, understandably, not of great concern to him. I might as well have been born a boy as far as he was concerned."

Gabriel raised a brow. "Oh, yes?"

There was a speculative look in those dark blue eyes, and Lea suddenly found herself colouring furiously. She curled her fingers into fists, startled by her own behaviour; she _never_ blushed. "Yes," she said stiffly. "Indeed, whenever we're short-handed especially, my uncle is most grateful to have me to help him with the farm's heavier duties. The other women with their peasant-gowns cannot accomplish half of what I do. I have never understood the point of wrapping a skirt around a pair of perfectly good trousers," Lea said abruptly. "Why bother? It only restricts movement, and plays no practical purpose."

"I believe it's a question of being fashionable," Gabriel suggested. A small gleam of appreciation came into his eyes. "Lorien fashions are rather creative, would you not say? I wonder who first thought of it; fitted pants with a knee length wrap-around skirt of fine linen, purely to emphasise an appearance of femininity. Makliaven women would never wear such an outfit but I believe the women of your kingdom look rather... attractive... in their work-clothes."

Lea actually snorted. "The work doesn't change. I do not see why the clothes have to. What has being fashionable to do with it?"

For once, Gabriel smiled openly, but he did not reply her at once. "I can see why you would think that about your kingdom's fashions," he said at last.

A dangerous glint flashed in Lea's eyes. Was he trying to say that she was ill-equipped to discuss feminine fashions? "I'll have you know that it is far easier to muck out a stall in trousers and shirt than a Lorien peasant-gown, _my lord_."

The sentence ended loudly in the quiet room. That mocking amusement was back in Gabriel's face, but Lea's indignation suddenly deflated, overruled by a sudden realisation: Gabriel had referred to Lorien as _her_ kingdom. Twice.

Her heart sank. She was still in Makliaven as she'd suspected. How could she have let her guard down so easily?

"I wonder what you are thinking," Gabriel murmured, watching as Lea stared down at her pale, smooth hands, that small frown back on her face, her expression set in stone. "If that furrow between your brows gets any deeper, it might leave a permanent mark, Lea Tornith."

Lea didn't answer. She kept her eyes on her tightly clasped hands, the fingers so tightly entwined that her knuckles showed white beneath already pale skin. Her mind mechanically considered and discarded various possibilities until only one remained, the very possibility she'd started with; she must keep Gabriel Amarinth from guessing who she was and escape this place.

"What an interesting life you must lead," Gabriel remarked when she remained silent. "I am anxious to hear the rest of it."

"There is nothing more to say, my lord. When my caravan was attacked, I was injured and sought refuge in the forest, as I told you."

If Lea hoped that this would end their conversation, her hope died a swift death.

Gabriel's expression turned unreadable. A chill seemed to descend on the opulent room.

"I – see," Gabriel said softly, and she was compelled once more to wonder just what he did see. "But did you not think your refuge dangerous, Lea Tornith?" Gabriel leaned forward in his seat again. "Have you not heard of the wolf packs that guard the borders of my forest?"

"Your forest?" she repeated slowly. What new trick was this? Was he trying to make her believe that he was not in fact from Makliaven? Why would he do that? Her blood ran cold. Was he working for _them_? "Your forest, my lord?"

"My forest."

"Do you mean the – forbidden forest?" she asked finally, just to be sure.

"Is there more than the one?" Gabriel wondered.

Her lips quirked in an uncertain little smile that surprised even her. "I know of no one who owns the forbidden forest, sir."

"You are mistaken."

"I think not," she scoffed.

"I assure you, you are," he repeated.

"And I assure _you_ , I am not," Lea insisted, unable to keep from raising her voice. She looked up at Gabriel mutinously. _Get on with it. I don't know what game you're playing, but you won't get anything out of me._

"Stubborn," Gabriel murmured, and there was that hint of amusement in his eyes again. "Caleb warned me as much."

Lea abruptly wondered where the apprentice was. She was convinced he and Gabriel were related. There was a vague similarity in their features, in the firm chin perhaps, or the smooth high forehead. Now, _this_ she could use. If ever she needed to persuade Gabriel to assist her cause, Lea decided, all she had to do was...

"What are you thinking, Lea Tornith?" Gabriel asked suddenly, and there was a hard edge to his voice.

The question startled Lea enough that she had the grace to look guilty. "N-nothing, my lord."

"When you look at me with just such a light in your eyes," Gabriel remarked, and watched as the high colour in Lea's cheeks deepened, "I remember that Caleb told me what a bloodthirsty patient you were. I wonder how far you would go to defend yourself from the perceived wrongs of others."

Her face turned expressionless. "Kindly do not cast slurs on my honour, my lord. I was in pain when your apprentice found me, and unable to think clearly. For that, I apologise. For any words exchanged for reasons other than my recent infirmity, an apology would, I'm sure you'll agree, be unnecessary."

"Prettily said," Gabriel observed, and added, "But honour and pretty speeches will not help you out there." He tipped his head to the side in the direction of the open window. "You had a lucky escape from the wolves guarding the forest."

Lea gave an uneasy laugh. "I don't know what you mean."

"You have no recollection of the pack that dogged your path from the moment you breached the forest borders, peasant of noble blood?"

A prickle of uneasiness hit her, along with an unforgettable memory of growling shadows padding alongside as she stumbled her way through the forest undergrowth. Hastily, Lea turned away, not wanting him to see the fear in her eyes. "I'm afraid I – I don't remember what happened, my lord."

There was a small silence. Lea thought she heard Gabriel murmur beneath his breath, "Ah, we're back to that, are we?"

She turned to him at once. "My lord?"

Her dark-haired host shook his head. "My healers must not have done their work well, Lea Tornith, for you to have forgotten so much of your ordeal."

She said coolly, "Well, Caleb mentioned that I had a concussion, so..."

Gabriel's lips curved for the briefest moment. "I see," he said again, and then his face was expressionless once more. "Perhaps you should have another glass of the tonic to help you rediscover your errant memory."

Lea's face tightened. She'd been so certain earlier that she'd glimpsed something reassuring in this man, something that told her he truly meant her no harm, but she no longer dared to trust her judgment. He could be just another oily Makliaven agent, spinning strange tales to gain her trust. And her confidence.

"You should believe me when I say you are mistaken about the forest," Gabriel said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts, "and its relationship to me."

"Oh?" Lea looked into those cool blue eyes once more. If all this talk about the forest was meant to confuse her, it wouldn't succeed. At the thought, what Lea had seen from the window flashed through her mind. Her eyes dropped from Gabriel's at once.

He tilted his head to the side gently, eyes fixed thoughtfully on her face. "You will come to no harm here, Lea Tornith."

"No, of course not," she whispered. But Lea knew they were both lying. Couldn't he see that she knew now where she was? Makliaven. She had to be in Makliaven.

But then, something Lea had seen in Gabriel's eyes just before she looked away, an unmistakable hint of old secrets kept carefully hidden, made her wonder suddenly...

"And just where might 'here' be, my lord?" Lea said. She raised her gaze to his – only to watch as Gabriel's lashes fell to veil the expression in his eyes. Everything inside Lea stilled. Well-honed instincts warned her not to pursue this any further. She ignored them.

"Where am I?" Lea whispered, and wondered at the look in those azure eyes. "Where has Caleb brought me?"
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Chapter 6

Gabriel stood up and walked to the window. "What did you see when you looked out at the world beyond my castle?"

Lea's hands curled so tightly on her lap that her nails almost drew blood. Her pulse began to race. So, this _was_ a castle. But that was not what made those inner warning bells ring madly again. _How did he know I looked out the window?_

"Lea?"

"I'm not sure what I saw," she said slowly.

"Ah, but you are sure," he disagreed with uncustomary gentleness. "Aren't you?"

"What I saw is not possible." The words were said through gritted teeth, practically pulled out of her.

Gabriel turned around. "And yet, there they were; the Dark Tower, and the White Tower, standing straight and tall right before you. Is that not so?"

If her heart thudded any faster, Lea was afraid it would burst. "I don't know what you mean," she said, and touched her forehead with the back of a trembling hand. "I don't think I – I don't feel well."

"You know them by other names, perhaps?" Gabriel continued ruthlessly. "Your kingdom's heart is the White Tower, and the centre of Makliaven is the Dark Tower."

She looked at him wordlessly, dread on her face. "I don't want to talk about this anymore," Lea whispered. For she knew now that what she'd seen earlier had been no barren monoliths. No, they'd been tall, spiralling citadels, with pointed spires piercing cleanly through the cloud cover overhanging two very different kingdoms. There was the sense then that's she'd stumbled upon something beyond her ken, something that sent a shiver through Lea's insides, warning her to pursue the subject at her peril. "Can I – can I have some more water, please?"

"But there is a tower none in your kingdom know of. I'm certain you'll want to know its name."

"Please – I don't want to talk about this."

"I'm afraid we shall have to."

"Why?" she blurted out, forgetting that she had asked him where she was in the first place. "I don't see why have to discuss this right now. I have a headache."

Gabriel ignored her. "The jewel of the forest that neither your people nor your enemies wish to enter," he went on, "is the tower adjoining this castle."

"Must we discuss this now?" Lea said through her teeth. Her headache was no longer a lie. It felt like jackhammers were pounding in her skull. Her fingers rose to her temples once more, rubbed hard to ease the ache. "I told you, I have a headache."

"Do you?" he said politely, and added, "Really, you are aware, are you not, that there is no reason for you to be frequented with such alarming headaches at the least provocation? They will after all not prevent me from saying what it is that I have to say. Ah, perhaps you feel better now that I've made that clear?"

Lea flushed brightly. How dare he sneer at her?

But before she could dispute the unfairness – and unkindness – of his words, Gabriel said simply, "I welcome you, Lea Tornith, to the kingdom we call Verlaine, and to its beloved Grey Tower."

The silence that greeted Gabriel's statement was like a palpable thing suspended threateningly between them. Lea felt almost as if the declaration hid a trap within it. "Grey Tower?" she repeated blankly. Her hands fell to her lap. "There is no Grey Tower, my lord."

"I'm afraid there is."

"There is no Grey Tower," she said again. "My lord."

"I beg to differ." Gabriel's expression suddenly gentled. "Since we are standing in it. Or, I should say, in its adjoining fortress."

Lea stared at him mutely. She'd made a mistake. This man was not simply dangerous; he was dangerous – because he was deranged. "There is no Grey Tower," she repeated patiently. "There are only two great towers, my lord, the White and the Dark – the heart of Lorien's justice and the centre of Makliaven's evil. It has always been so, for as long as any can remember."

"I understand that this can be hard to believe at first. From the Grey Tower, its kin can be seen very clearly." Gabriel turned back to the window, staring steadily out at the horizon. "But those in the White Tower and Dark Tower cannot see us."

"Is this a joke of some sort?" Lea snapped. Her fingers curled and uncurled on her lap. Her head was pounding so badly. "Are you toying with me? Does it amuse you to play games with one who is perforce at the mercy of your hospitality?"

"I do not play games," was Gabriel's cool response.

"No?" Her smile was sardonic. "You will forgive me if I do not quite," she paused, searching for the right word, " _accept_ what you say as easily as that."

"It is not a matter of what you will or will not accept."

"Thank you for your courtesy," she marvelled. Her smile deepened; her eyes turned cold. "But I appreciate your attempt at humour, my lord. I only hope you do not think me so easily fooled."

"It is not my intent to fool you."

"Then why play these games at all?"

"You are within the walls of a third kingdom, Lea Tornith, one with lands and borders well outside your own."

His voice carried an unmistakable ring of truth. Lea's smile faded.

"Yes," Gabriel said softly, watching as disbelief warred with fear on her face, "a third kingdom. Verlaine exists outside the borders of Makliaven or Lorien. We answer to neither your King, nor Makliaven's insane ruler. And we are all the better for our isolation."

The room fell quiet once more.

"My lord, there is no third kingdom," Lea said finally. She was trying to maintain some semblance of civility, but though her headache had strangely eased, her mind was in chaos. "There is no Grey Tower. And I do not know what you hope to achieve by spinning me such lies, sir!" she burst out suddenly. "I ask you again: _where am I_?"

"I am not lying," he returned in such a reasonable tone of voice that Lea was conscious of gritting her teeth in frustration once again. "How can you say for certain that no such tower exists?"

_Because if it did, I should have been able to see it from any number of rooms in Lucien's castle_! "Because none speak of it," Lea said shortly.

"Ah." Gabriel's posture was straight and unyielding now, his hands clasped lightly behind his back as he turned to the view outside the window. "But none can speak of what they do not see, can they?"

"You'd be surprised," she replied, and a mocking smile curved her lips as she looked at his back. "There are a lot of foolish people in the world."

Gabriel spun around with startling speed. His azure eyes rested briefly on Lea's face, sharp and dangerous and rather more brilliant than they had appeared earlier. There was a ruthless light to that elegant face.

Lea's smile died. An unexpected flush rose to her cheeks, accompanied by a healthy sprinkling of fear that shivered up her spine as she shrank back against the pillows. "I was not..." She tried for a small smile, and continued, "That did not come out as I'd intended, my lord. Of course, I was not speaking of _you_."

"Of course you were – not," Gabriel agreed, and stayed silent, his gaze fixed unblinkingly on her pale face.

"I apologise, my lord, if I have offended you," Lea said at last. _He's deranged, you fool. You must not forget that he's quite insane_. "It was not my intention to cause you any offense."

"Was it not?" Gabriel said cryptically. There was still that strange, dangerous cast to his face.

"If what you say is true," Lea said hurriedly. "If this is really a... a third kingdom... _your_ kingdom... It is doubly kind of you to allow me sanctuary in your home, my lord. I would never wish to repay such kindness with offense."

"Kindness." His mouth curved in a half-smile. "Yes, I am always – kind, am I not?" He looked at her quietly. "But I suggest you do not call me a liar again, child of Lorien, or I might forget this kindness you speak of."

She hadn't expected that he would threaten her so openly. Lea took a breath, trying to calm her nerves and her temper; the latter had forever been her downfall, and she was afraid it would be so again today if she was not careful. She knew now exactly the type of man that Gabriel Amarinth was. He wielded power, was used to issuing orders and being obeyed, was intolerant of challenges to his authority in any shape or form. Civility might be his mask, but beneath it lay a ruthless disposition. And if Lea _had_ found sanctuary in this castle instead of imprisonment, the distinction mattered little if he never let her out of here alive.

Her throat worked as sudden terror rose inside her. Her ordinary reserves of courage deserted her without warning. Escape had just become that bit harder to imagine. In Gabriel's eyes, she was probably tainted by her peasant roots, unprotected and undeserving of his help. She would have to tread carefully around him if she were to get back home. She _must_ tread carefully. She would not, Lea thought fiercely, let him fling her into a dungeon and leave her to rot on a whim, or for her impertinence. She would not remain quiet while the darkness closed in on her and the world simply fell away once more...

"Lea?" Gabriel said suddenly, and his voice was surprisingly gentle. "What is wrong?"

Lea's eyes shot to his face. He was watching her curiously. "Oh, n...nothing," she stammered. Her fingers were twisting nervously in her lap, and she hastily stilled the restless movement. Never had she felt so disoriented. Or so alone. _No_ , Lea thought, _that's not quite true, is it?_ Desperately, she stared past Gabriel to the warm sunlight spilling into the room. She was safe. She was safe for now. He wouldn't put her in a dungeon. It was silly to think that ordinary noblemen did that anymore. He probably didn't have any dungeons. It was so stupid of her. So stupid. "I'm sorry." Her voice sounded thick to her own ears. "I... My thoughts must have drifted..."

"An apology is unnecessary." He tilted his head, considering her thoughtfully. "You are not yet yourself, are you, Lea Tornith?"

She hesitated. What did that mean? "Yes, my lord. I mean... I mean, no. My time in the... in the forest; I didn't think I would get out safely, you see... I..." She let out a weary breath, and closed her eyes. "I thought I would never get out."

"But you did," he said, still in that same gentle voice, and watched as she opened her eyes to look at him. "You are here. You are well... You are safe. Yes?"

"I... Well, yes, of course you are right." She fell silent.

"Were you lying about that headache, Lea Tornith?"

It was the last question she'd expected. Lea looked up at him warily. "No, my lord, I was not." She stirred uneasily beneath the covers. "Though I'll admit it _is_ much better now."

"I see." He looked out the window for a moment. When he turned back to her, that expressionless mask was back on Gabriel's face. "It seems I must apologise for doubting your word. For a moment, I had forgotten –" he paused, a brooding look in his eyes now, "how badly injured you were."

And Lea had the oddest feeling that that was really not what he had forgotten at all.

"Shall I bring you more of the tonic?"

She shook her head. "It's all right," Lea whispered. It was obvious he didn't trust her, but if she was honest with herself, she didn't trust herself either – not after what had happened. "I feel much better. It's just... I was remembering the forest, I suppose..."

"The forest," Gabriel repeated, and for a moment he didn't say anything else. Then, quite absently, "I wonder, what do your people say of the forest in which you were found?"

"That it is wild," she offered after a moment. "And dangerous. That there are creatures here that do not exist in Lorien or Makliaven."

"And what do those in Makliaven say?"

"Their ways are different from ours," Lea considered. "They believe in magic and silly superstitions."

"And those superstitions say?"

"That there is magic in the forest," she said scornfully. "And creatures of magic. And one who rules them all."

Her words died out suddenly. Her mouth felt dry as she looked up at Gabriel.

"Is that all you have to say, child of Lorien?" he said, very softly. "I was under the impression you would know more than this."

Lea shook her head. Her lips twisted into an uncertain smile again. That was not possible. It was silly to think it possible. A memory of being held unmoving below lake waters flashed to mind. Lea shook her head again more forcefully. "Those in Makliaven have foolish ideas," she said finally. "Dreams of faerie, tales of the fey..." She shrugged. "Makliaven's people are ever in love with the foibles of myth and legend."

"Of course, the children of Lorien are ever in love with logic and stale philosophy," replied her host, and there was a note in his voice that alerted Lea at once to the fact that he was mocking her again. No, not her. Her kingdom.

Lea's expression frosted. "I have yet to find much to rival the efficacy of Lorien's ways," she said grimly. No one insulted her beloved kingdom and got away with it. Damn him for taking advantage of her obvious physical frailty in this way. "I have not as yet found another city, or kingdom, that could compete with Lorien in any fashion whatsoever."

"No, you wouldn't have, would you, child of Lorien?"

"Prove me wrong then, my lord," she replied hotly. "If you dare!"

The silence between them was different this time, stronger somehow and more dangerous, seething with unspoken words, utterances better left unsaid. There was a thudding sound in her ears, and Lea absently registered that it was her heart, beating fast at her own effrontery. What had possessed her to say that? So much for leashing her temper. Stupid, _stupid_. Her palms turned damp as she stared at Gabriel.

The noble's blue eyes had flashed briefly with anger once she'd said those foolish words, but the cold, expressionless mask that descended on his face after that brief flash of fury was – remarkably – even more frightening. If she didn't know better, Lea would have sworn the man's eyes turned from that grey-tinted azure to a deep, glittering blue. But of course, that was impossible. She blinked slowly.

"Repeat your challenge, Lea Tornith," Gabriel said very, very softly, "so that I might accept it."

"I apologise, my lord," was Lea's miserable reply. She was furious with herself, with him – with the fates for putting her in this position. "I have insulted your hospitality for no reason of value, save that my kingdom is dear to me and I – I fear I... I felt that you had mocked it for no good reason."

"Is that what you felt?" Gabriel said impassively.

She nodded, unaware how large her eyes were in her pale face, how fragile a picture her gaunt frame presented as she faced him from beneath the covers of the huge satin-cloaked bed. "I am – I am apt to lose my temper when – when those I care for are sneered at. A – a weakness of the nerves perhaps –" Oh, how she hated it when she stumbled over her words. "One I have yet to correct."

A moment passed, and then two. Abruptly, Gabriel's expression returned to its previous, cool mien. "I'm afraid you are mistaken, Lea."

"I – I am?"

"What you describe as a weakness is a strength." He paused. "But I think you would not believe that," he added softly, and the words were so low that she knew they were not meant for her ears.

When Gabriel finally turned away from her, Lea sagged back against the bed's headboard. She felt like she'd somehow averted an unexpected disaster. Warily, she watched as Gabriel strode to a beautiful, tall cupboard standing silently to the left of the room door.

"Your clothes are in tatters, Lea," he remarked. "I trust you will find these garments to your taste?" He gestured to a golden stool in front of the cream-coloured cupboard.

Lea found herself staring like an idiot at the richly woven blue and grey dress that was draped over the stool. She was certain it hadn't been there before. "An unusual design," she said at last, "but perfectly suitable. Thank you." A pause, and then, hesitantly, "It does seem rather too lavish for me though."

"For a true peasant perhaps, but as you say, you are something quite different, are you not?"

Lea opened her mouth to retort, then thought better of it.

Gabriel's eyes darted to hers for a moment. "Quite so." There was that flash of amusement again, come and gone so quickly Lea could not be sure she'd seen it. He nodded at her. "If you prefer to retain the garments and appearance of a boy, however, that is your prerogative."

She blinked, surprised by his kindness. "My... my lord?"

"The attire of those who visit our kingdom is not as strictly regimented as that of your home. Women's clothing in Verlaine is far more varied than you could imagine. You will not offend any in this castle by your choice of what to wear. And so, Lea Tornith," he ended softly, "would you prefer your boy's garments to that of flowing gowns?"

It had always brought her comfort not to be swathed in the confining material of feminine gowns, but nobles, whether of Lorien or Makliaven descent, should have found her preferred attire unforgiveable, especially on the part of a guest. Could this be some strange test? Or was Gabriel Amarinth simply the eccentric man his words portrayed him to be?

"Yes," Lea said at last, for Gabriel was waiting patiently for her response. "I... I would prefer the shirts and trousers to the gowns."

Gabriel nodded. "It is so."

She glanced at the stool again. This time, a soft gasp escaped. What she'd thought was a dress was now a shirt and trousers, still lavish in material, though simple enough in cut and style.

"Oh... I... I don't.... I thank you," Lea got out finally. Her eyes narrowed on the garments. She had to be suffering from a concussion still. That was the only explanation for this unexpected hallucination. "Yes, those are suitable."

The hard edge to Gabriel's mouth softened suddenly. His eyes flitted lazily to something by the stool. "If the shoes are not comfortable," he said, and paused while Lea took in a flat pair of plain dark boots with pointed toes, "please let me know. There is a chair with wheels for your use if you prefer not to walk."

"I'll walk," she said quickly.

"Very well. You will find the cupboard filled with garments and shoes to your liking now," was Gabriel's next observation. "But you must tell us if you need anything more."

"Oh, I'm sure I will not," she said. This time, Lea's smile was quite genuine. "I will after all be returning to my home soon enough, my lord, and disturb you no more."

But when Gabriel continued to stand by the door, surveying her silently, Lea was suddenly filled with disquiet. Why was there such an odd look on his face?

Almost on cue, Gabriel said, "We must speak more of the circumstances that brought you to our doorstep, Lea. I believe another drink of the tonic water will be sufficient to keep you up and about for a few hours. Perhaps you would join me after you have changed into something more..." He paused, perhaps trying to find the least offensive way to remind her that she was still dressed in what could best be described as rags. "Personable?"

"Could I rest, my lord, before I speak to you again?" Lea said at once. "The circumstances which led me into the forest distress me still." And when he stared at her unblinkingly, "I don't think I – I cannot think clearly, you see, nor remember things as well as I would wish." Inwardly, Lea groaned with mortification. She hated portraying herself as such a weakling, but she truly dared not face him again without preparing herself. Even madmen could spot a practised liar if they were perceptive enough, and she – she needed to be in better control of her emotions before she spoke to Gabriel Amarinth again.

"Of course," Gabriel replied slowly. "Ring the bell pull by the door should you require anything. Caleb will attend to you."

Before Lea could reply, Gabriel walked up to her quickly. His fingers were at her chin without warning, tipping her face up so that he could look down into her eyes. His fingers seemed to burn her skin.

Something inside Lea rose in fearful protest. Somehow, she didn't pull away from his grasp, kept her eyes steady on his.

"Do not think to wander my castle without my permission, Lea Tornith," Gabriel said at last. His gaze was disconcertingly direct. "I said you will not be harmed here, but that is only if you stay by my side, or with Caleb, until you are properly introduced to the people of Verlaine. Do you understand me?"

Lea managed a jerky nod. She didn't know if he was convinced of her sincerity, but by the time Gabriel released her and walked to the door she was fearfully convinced of his.

"What an unusual child to be wandering the forest," she heard Gabriel murmur.

And he left the room.
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Chapter 7

Lea stared at the closed door in silence. And then, she touched her jaw very softly, shocked that her heart was beating faster than it had when she had faced her enemies in the darkness of Makliaven dungeons.

"Don't be so stupid," she said in a fierce little voice, and let her hand fall.

She hesitated, then exited the bed and limped to the room door, turned its golden knob as quietly as she could. The door slipped open at once. She peeped outside, expecting to see guards stationed by her room. There were none.

Her brows furrowed in puzzlement. Slowly, Lea pushed the heavy door fully open. She peeped outside. A cold, empty corridor met her eyes, grey stone floor neatly carpeted in rouge-red along its middle. Light grey stone walls were arrayed with dimly lit sconces – the corridor was bereft of windows to let the light in – and tapestries hung with orderly precision between every odd sconce. Tall wooden doors matching Lea's own marched to left and right along the stone wall on her side of the passage. She glanced further down to her right, spotted the silhouette of a graceful little marble statue standing tall and lonely on its high pedestal at a faraway turn in the corner.

She chewed absently on her lower lip, looked to left and right. There was no sign of anyone else.

Could he really not be keeping her prisoner?

There was the jarring sound of someone's room door being shut with a bang somewhere else in the castle. Lea hurriedly stepped back into her room. She let her door fall shut and stared doubtfully at it for a moment. Not a sound could be heard from outside.

Lea breathed a sigh of relief, ashamed at the way her body was still quivering inside from fear. "You're all right. Just turn around. Turn around now."

She had to repeat the words a few more times before her feet obeyed her mouth. When Lea finally leaned back against the door and stared at her room, it simply stared back at her, impassive and elegant, so that she suddenly felt silly for her earlier fright. And shockingly tearful. "Don't you dare cry," she murmured beneath her breath. "Come on, let's get started."

With care, Lea removed paintings from their positions, traced heavy gilded frames with gentle fingers. She poked her head under her huge bed and out the small balcony, ran her fingers around smooth window frames and tall door frame and finally thumped out her frustration on the room's cool grey stone walls as she tested them for hollowed out chambers or hidden compartments. None came to light.

Finally, unsure whether to be disappointed or relieved, Lea turned to her writing desk. It was one of only two more items that she hadn't yet inspected. The desk was a tidy little piece, made of burnished redwood, and with edges and borders finely decorated in gold leaf. The candelabra and small trinkets displayed on the desk were of startlingly intricate make. But they provided no clue as to their crafter, neither in engraved signature or custom-made seal. No artisan in Makliaven or Lorien would forget to apply these small marks, Lea thought, and frowned.

When the desk and its intriguing items were proven innocent of subterfuge, Lea turned to her room's large armoire. "Didn't think I would be able to make weapons out of cloth, did you, Gabriel Amarinth?" she muttered darkly, and promptly flung open the large armoire's heavy doors. "Just you wait, my lord."

But Lea abruptly stood very still. " _Oh_." Words deserted her. All she could do was stare stupidly at the armoire's contents with awe-struck eyes. Beautifully tailored men's clothing filled the cupboard's insides, some of the designs strange to her eyes, some fashionably cut; all were of fine, expensive material. The room's previous guest must have been equally fond of such attire, Lea decided at last, and slammed the armoire's doors shut. "Stupid man," she murmured, feeling upset for some reason she couldn't fathom. "What was he thinking? I can't possibly get through all that in an entire year, let alone a few weeks."

At the end, the only unusual item in the entire room turned out to be a vase of indigo roses sitting calmly on the side table next to the bed. Lea hadn't seen indigo roses before, not in Lorien or Makliaven. They must have been painted, she thought, in the fashion of vain Lorien nobles who hired artists for similarly strange purposes.

"Frippery," Lea muttered, and flopped tiredly on the bed. Staring up at the filigreed cream ceiling didn't help. Her headache had left her completely now, almost as though it had never been, but she still felt sick with anger and fear. She couldn't understand how such a high structure as this castle could not be seen from afar. She'd certainly never seen it from the higher steppes of both Lorien and Makliaven. "But there can't be a third tower," she said aloud. " _Someone_ would have seen it by now."

Shrugging aside foolish thoughts of magic, Lea allowed her fingers to creep up to her still aching knee, massaged very gently. "There must be strong illusionists at work in the place," she said finally. "Yes, illusionists to make this castle hidden from sight. It's not that hard to do if one has the money. Or the skill." There were after all a number of successful illusionists in Lorien and some had been known to make small objects disappear. Lea knew that the items were merely dumped in hidden compartments belonging to the performers, but she'd once seen a famed illusionist make a large animal vanish before her eyes and her cousin Michael had explained to her the use of mirrors and distraction in an illusionist's trade.

The thought of Michael made Lea feel sicker than ever. "Have you connected the dots yet, cousin?" Lea whispered, and grimaced. What if he hadn't? Her eyes turned bleak. How many had been caught? And how many were still alive?

Oh, she had to get out of here as soon as she could. She had to find a way to warn her family that there was a traitor in Lorien.

The castle itself would not be the problem, Lea admitted to herself. It was the forest. Any encounter with those bloody wolf packs promised to be deadly. She would require both strength and agility to face them again. And, Lea thought with pleasure, a good, strong blade in her hands – with a large mount from which to safely wield it.

An hour later, Lea knew she had to speak to Gabriel once more. A deranged lunatic was something she might just be able to handle. If he was working under the instruction of another however...

The worrying thought had her instantly on her feet. But preparing for another interview with Gabriel proved unexpectedly tedious. Lea's search for a bath chamber ended only in the discovery of an archaic chamber pot hidden in a corner behind the window curtains, with some clean towels slung over a pail of clear water. Lea wrinkled her nose in disgust. Even the poorest homes in Lorien and Makliaven were now equipped with running water and excellent drainage. This must be an old, isolated estate indeed.

The chamber pot however proved the least of her problems. Dressing herself was, quite simply, torture. Lea groaned as she fitted her arms into the sleeves of a beautifully tailored cream shirt, was forced to sit down with a thump on the side of the bed when she lost her footing getting into fitted black trousers, before finally breathing hard as she sat fully dressed on the side of her bed, disgusted with herself. Her eyes fixed absently on a dull cream door just opposite.

For a moment, Lea just stared at it. And then, a small exclamation escaped her. That had _definitely_ not been there before. Grabbing the gilt-edged hairbrush that she'd found on her bedside table for protection, Lea hobbled to the door and peeked into – her face froze in disbelief – a marble and gold bath-chamber.

"Bloody hell."

For a full minute, Lea's room was filled with the most colourful expletives any dockside trader from Lorien could think of. "Well, I can't undress again," Lea acknowledged grimly. The mere thought was painful. A bath would have to wait.

She let loose a few more curses, wondering how she could have she missed the bath-chamber's door and finally put the error down to her weary state. The offending door was slammed shut with ill grace. Grumbling beneath her breath, Lea limped to the dressing table mirror; she had to look herself over before meeting her estimable host once more.

When she reached the spindly dresser however, Lea drew in a sharp breath. She could hardly recognize herself in her own reflection.

Huge brown eyes stared back at her, sunken in their sockets, their colour dusky against the unnatural pallor of ordinarily cream-coloured skin. There were shadows under her eyes and her face seemed far too thin for boy or girl. Her auburn hair, initially cut short in the fashion of the youth in Lorien, had grown during her captivity in Makliaven, forming a profusion of curls that ended just below her ears. The dark shock of hair only emphasised the paleness of her skin. Like her hands, her face was free of blemishes and bruises. Not a scar remained as a souvenir of her recent ordeal, and Lea acknowledged now, with some relief, that she'd been afraid the scars on her throat at least might never have healed.

What shocked Lea most though was how vulnerable she looked; too thin and too tired – too _weak_. She shut her eyes involuntarily, gripping the dresser's edge with shaking fingers. Composing herself was difficult. The memories _would_ keep surfacing.

Finally, she opened her eyes and forced herself to face the unfamiliar girl that stared back at her. Her heart fallen, was quickly rallied. She had to look at this objectively. This could work out well for her. After all, for those who didn't know better...

A sudden smile crept to Lea's lips. Yes, no one would recognise her surely. She was satisfied she could pass for a boy of perhaps fourteen years. Her gaze narrowed critically. Possibly younger. As a girl, she looked no older than fifteen or sixteen. A slender, starved sixteen.

"A benefit or a disadvantage?" she murmured to her reflection, and remembered the way Gabriel had allowed her insults to pass without retribution earlier. Bleak determination flitted across her face. "I shall have to make it a benefit, I suppose."

Her hands absently patted down her shirt. She was amazed at the texture of the thing. Pure silk, she'd warrant, with cufflinks of brass and gold. The buttons of the shirt, which she'd first thought to be of wooden make, had turned out to be light brown gems, all holding a latent sparkle in their depths. Her trousers were neat and pressed and felt blissfully soft on bruised skin – she hadn't realised how much she'd missed the feel of clean, expensive clothes.

"Vain creature," she murmured, and a small smile flitted to her mouth. "I do look rather handsome, don't I?" Her smile died, her reflection staring back at her sadly. "If he expects me to bargain for my freedom with the only property I have left, I will protect you to the grave," she assured her wistful reflection. "There are many ways to kill a nobleman. Even one as rich as him. Even one as mad as he seems to be." She leaned forward, surveying her wan face quietly. And then, beneath her breath, "It's time to see my gracious host, I think."

Turning away from the mirror, Lea smoothly yanked on the bell pull beside it.

Someone rapped sharply on the door.
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Chapter 8

Lea barely stifled her soft exclamation of surprise. Her gaze fixed uncertainly on the door, then slid to the elegant bell pull so recently used, before returning to the door.

"Hello," someone called out. "You sent for me?"

Hastily, she hobbled forward, for the first time noticed that her door's keyhole housed no key with which to secure her chamber from the inside. Her face darkened. The door was opened very slowly. It took only a moment for Lea to place the youth standing in the corridor in long grey robes, booted feet sticking out from beneath them.

"Caleb?" She looked up into familiar dark eyes. Unexpected pleasure burst through her. She hadn't realised how badly she needed to see a familiar face. "It is you, isn't it?" she added when he stayed silent. "You found me in the forest."

"Yes." Caleb looked Lea up and down with an unreadable expression on his face. "Lea, is it now?"

"I didn't know if you could be trusted," she apologised.

"I probably can't be," Caleb agreed politely. "No more than you can."

There was a startled silence. Lea tilted her head to the side and studied Gabriel's apprentice quietly. He seemed different than she remembered, though she couldn't put her finger on quite why...

"Satisfied?" Caleb enquired.

"What?"

"Are you satisfied with staring a hole through my face?" he said very distinctly, as though she were hard of hearing.

Lea raised a brow. She didn't remember him being this rude. "Did you come to see me for something?" she said curtly.

"You rang the bell."

Confusion flashed across her face. "But I _just_ rang it..."

"Yes?"

She surveyed him for a moment, then shrugged. "You don't have to pretend you're here because I sent for you. It doesn't matter to me one way or the other."

His expression didn't waver. "I am here because you sent for me."

"We can talk later if you want," she continued as though he hadn't spoken. "I – I've yet to –"

A look of annoyance descended on Caleb's angular face. "I have no desire to talk to you," he muttered beneath his breath, as though this was something he hadn't considered. "He didn't say anything about _talking_."

Lea tried not to feel insulted by this unexpected remark, but she could feel a sudden burn in her cheeks. Her expression turned sardonic. "Forgive me, but why are you here again?"

"I've been trying to tell you," Caleb growled out, and visibly reined in his temper. Continuing more calmly, "Unfortunately, my master has instructed me to see to your comfort during your stay here. I don't usually chaperone guests, but our usual aides are busier than usual this time of year so," he shrugged, "here I am."

"Well, your assistance will be unnecessary," Lea replied. "I'm sure someone will be here soon to take me to Gabriel." She flashed Caleb a cold smile, conscious of an odd feeling of disappointment somewhere in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps she'd assumed too much in thinking their shared adventure had caused something akin to friendship to grow between them. There was a sudden memory of them holding fast to each other underwater. Flushing slightly, Lea shifted her weight to her less painful leg. "Look, why don't you just get back to whatever it is you were doing before you decided to spend your free time harassing me? I don't have either the time or inclination to entertain you."

Caleb raised a brow. His eyes flitted to her shifting legs, then back to her face, then darted over her shoulder at something in the room. His expression darkened. "Haven't you drunk the tonic we made you? The jug's nearly full." Lea watched with interest as Caleb's face worked soundlessly. Finally, he said, "It took me forever to prepare it for you."

She smiled at him. "Thank you, but I shan't need any more."

Extreme irritation flashed across Caleb's face. "You don't understand," he remarked with studied politeness. "The pain in your leg will ease if you drink another glass or two."

"I'd really rather not," Lea said equally politely.

He eyed her in silence. "I see," Caleb said at last, much in the way of his master. "Very well then, you'll need crutches." From behind his back, Caleb gracefully produced a light-coloured wooden pair, dainty and delicate, of the perfect height for Lea. He handed them out to her.

She snapped to attention.

Not even the ghost of a twinkle crept into Caleb's eyes at Lea's open consternation. He'd been amused by her in the forest, Lea remembered, and abruptly felt bereft. She had the odd impression Gabriel's apprentice was not one to laugh often. He'd probably been making an effort to keep her spirits up the last time they'd met. "Another illusionist," she murmured, her gaze on the crutches he continued to hold out so patiently. "I'll find out soon enough how you did that."

Caleb frowned. "Did you – did you just call me an illusionist?"

"That's what you are, is it not?" Lea leaned against the doorframe, her legs beginning to tremble. A delighted smile crossed her face when Caleb scowled. "Did you think I would not guess?"

His scowl deepened. "You should be careful what you say here. There are no charlatans in our world."

"As any illusionist would no doubt assert." Lea's hands shot out and grabbed the crutches before Caleb could reply. "I have fast hands too, you know," she said solemnly, her lips curving at the sudden startled expression on his face.

He schooled his expression back into something resembling boredom and regarded her silently again. "Please do not call Gabriel an illusionist," Caleb said at last.

"But that's what he is, isn't he?" Suddenly, Lea knew what Caleb was apprenticed in. Her eyes lit with interest. "Gabriel Amarinth is training you to be an illusionist! I'm right, aren't I? How long have you been apprenticed to him?"

"I may be a mere apprentice," Caleb said in such a way that Lea couldn't help thinking he was talking through gritted teeth, "but Gabriel is a master magician. It would not be wise to insult him by referring to him as an _illusionist_ ," he practically spat the word.

"A master magician?" Lea's eyes widened in mock fear, but there was a twinge of alarm in the pit of her stomach as a memory of dangerous blue eyes suddenly flashed through her mind. "I'd better watch myself around him then." She'd intended the words to sound sarcastic, cursed inside when they came out sounding just a bit afraid instead.

"Yes, you should." Caleb abruptly turned to his left. "Let's go."

Faint irritation entered Lea's voice, "I told you –"

"All right, all right, Gabriel sent me to fetch you. Happy? Nothing to do with when you rang the bell or when you didn't ring it. He wants to see you. Now."

"But if someone comes," she began again, gesturing towards her room's bell pull.

"There is no one else," Caleb said. His dark eyes narrowed on her. "No, don't say it. I'm not going to stand here arguing with you. As fascinating as this conversation is, I have to return to my studies. Please believe me when I say no one else is coming to fetch you." And when she would have spoken, "Everyone else is occupied with other tasks," Caleb said hurriedly. "They would not come even if they heard the bell ring. Please, just let me take you to Gabriel."

Lea grimaced. He must be telling the truth; even the most badly run estates would have had a servant running up to answer her summons by now. "Fine, I'll go with you."

She shut her door quietly – noting with unease the empty keyhole on this side too – and stepped forward. Her ankle nearly gave. She stifled a gasp of pain.

"What's wrong?" Caleb called from further down the corridor.

"Nothing," Lea called back and hopped gently on her good foot. With reluctance, she positioned the crutches under her arms and made her way to Caleb's side.

Five minutes later, Lea wondered if the apprentice had given her a faulty pair. The bright brown wood was slippery on the floor, sliding and collapsing under her weight while her fingers throbbed with the force of her grip as she tried to keep the crutches steady. Her shoulders and upper body were beginning to protest the unexpected pressure exerted to keep upright; she had to double over ever so slightly as she walked, almost as though the crutches were shorter in reality than they appeared. After ten minutes of traversing winding corridors and manoeuvring steep staircases, Lea was ready to give up.

"Is it much further?" she asked at last.

"We're nearly there," Caleb said.

Lea stared balefully at his back. She could've sworn there'd been a hint of sly amusement in her guide's voice. At least he was walking slowly enough that she could keep up with him, she reminded herself with ill-grace.

But her grudging gratitude was short-lived. Their walk through the castle seemed never ending. Soon, Lea was lagging behind, examining her surroundings with interest. They'd left her section of the castle far behind them. These wide halls and corridors dwarfed her in size, with high stone ceilings and wide corridors that had been left uncarpeted. Sconces weren't lit with flame; here, ample windows let in warm sunshine, suggesting that these long corridors ringed the castle's outer walls. The spacious brightness of the place only made it seem all the more empty though, and Lea wondered if anyone occupied the wing.

At the thought, footsteps and laughter sounded from just around the corner.

"Ah, some of our newer guests, I believe," she heard Caleb murmur. He came to a stop, waiting for her to catch up to him. "You might like to meet them."

Inwardly relieved for the break, Lea leaned against the corridor wall by Caleb's side. She wished she didn't have to meet anyone new when she felt at such a disadvantage, but courtesy kept her expression politely cool; she prayed the introductions would pass swiftly.

Three figures walked into the corridor. Lea went very still.

It wasn't the finery adorning two of the figures that made Lea pause, nor their beautiful gowns, gleaming necklaces and jewels, or shimmering slippers. It was the third figure walking alongside the first two that caused Lea to back up against the wall. For the third figure was a full-grown leopard.

Lea stared wordlessly at the sleek, lithe creature. Its slinking body came up to her hips, at the least. And with its shining coat of gold and black, it fairly shone as it strode toward her. Muscles rippled beneath gleaming fur. Paws padded forward with stealthy grace. The strong feline walked with the powerful, leashed strength that only a big cat could boast of. Lea instantly noticed that it was free of any restraint.

The realisation made her blood freeze in her veins. The memory of feral eyes and savage, snapping jaws crept up on her. This was no wolf, but it was close enough. Lea held herself quietly, trembling inside, and hoped the wild creature would not notice her.

Her hopes were in vain. Gimlet eyes stared in open curiosity while Lea froze in place; her attention was drawn to the shining diamond and gold necklace the leopard wore.

"Oh," she found herself saying rather foolishly. "How odd."

Instantly, the leopard's ears went flat. Its eyes narrowed into slits. And then, quite suddenly, the sleek head turned away, looked up at its companions.

Lea instinctively looked up as well. Her gaze met those of the women the leopard accompanied; something very like terror touched her insides. One woman had eyes of bright silver – the other, deep vermilion. But it wasn't the colour of their eyes that made Lea shrink back against the wall. No, nor the glimpse of steel and scabbard beneath their flowing robes. It was the look on their faces: their expressions held more feral threat than any leopard could possibly be capable of.

The women's brisk steps slowed. Lea had the feeling she'd foolishly caught their attention. Her fingers tightened on her crutches. For all their slippery inefficiency, they would make excellent weapons. Her hands lovingly gripped the solid wood.

But then, with unexpected suddenness, those glittering gazes shifted to Lea's left. She watched as the expressions on the women's faces softened. There were two polite nods to Caleb – Lea could have sworn even the sleek leopard dipped its majestic head gently – and then the two strange women turned away and moved further down the corridor, leopard in tow, before becoming lost to sight around the bend.

Lea let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Her eyes flew instinctively to Caleb's.

The young apprentice looked quite unconcerned.

No, Lea thought. That wasn't quite right. He looked _satisfied_. Leaning against the grey stone wall, there was a smile in those dark eyes as he watched her. It wasn't a nice smile.

Lea's hands shook imperceptibly; she had to rein in a sudden desire to slap Caleb right across his smirking face. "Having fun?" she said in a hard little voice. So much for introductions.

His shoulders lifted gently. "Just a suggestion: don't call our other guests odd, and they won't threaten to assault you."

"Since I do not plan on staying here beyond the afternoon," Lea retorted. "I believe your advice will be wasted."

Caleb's brows lifted at her statement, but he didn't say anything.

Flatly, Lea said, "Shall we go on?"

There was a brief pause. She had the oddest feeling that he wanted to tell her something, but the impulse – if there was one – passed quickly; Caleb continued down the corridor again. Lea struggled to keep up. It was another five minutes before the silent pair entered what was obviously a busier section of the castle.

Here, corridors widened without warning into large marble hallways with high, raised ceilings that made Lea feel very, very small indeed. Her eyes dwelled on the colourful mixture of occupants swarming these large halls and hallways. No one paid her any mind, but Lea's interest was wholly fixed on the bewildering array of passer-by.

Some of them – neighbouring dignitaries perhaps? – were attired in finery befitting royalty, but others wore the dirtiest, most tattered clothing that any beggar could have lifted from a lonely Makliaven alleyway. Yet, Lea noticed in puzzlement, the seemingly rich mingled with the apparently poor and none seemed to treat the other with any noticeable difference.

And even when it came to those dressed in grand state, they sported all manner of gowns and robes, alternating between hooded and open, long and short, opulent and quite frankly faded; the outfits reminded Lea of the paintings that hung in Lorien's White Castle, depicting the many generations of Lorien peoples with their gradually altering fashions. She even glimpsed the very Lorien peasant-gowns she'd so scorned earlier; here, the gowns were worn by women lavishly adorned with jewels on their wrists and neck.

Lea could only blink in confusion. Not even in the neutral trading spaces shared by Makliaven and Lorien – where customs as to dress were not always followed strictly – had she seen anything like this.

To Lea's delight however, it seemed that Gabriel had told her the truth about _her_ choice of attire: she watched in amazement as women walked by in clothes usually suited to men, their pants fitted to slender legs, their shirts ruffled or sometimes cut to fit them in simple, stark lines. No one in the castle looked at them askance; their attire was accepted, sometimes even admired, and Lea found herself feeling something between relief and bewilderment at such unusual fashions being so easily received at this chequered court.

She must of course be walking amongst Gabriel Amarinth's courtiers, Lea guessed. She hadn't yet been formally introduced to anyone, nor could she make out the conversation of the people she passed, but it was hard to ignore the small groups gathered together for exchanges punctuated with laughter and sly hushed whispers perfectly suited to court gossip and political intrigue.

What really made Lea's eyes widen though – this time in fear – was the sight of myriad animals freely strolling the marbled halls and corridors. Cats and wolves, even horses – and she swore she saw small excitable monkeys – walked through the corridors with ease, some curiously wearing gemstones on heavy necklaces, one or two even wearing rings on their fingers and paws in the way of the large leopard she'd stumbled upon earlier.

It was difficult to process the bizarre nature of the creatures strolling by her, or the unnatural profiles of those courtiers and guests who initially appeared quite ordinary. Surely, Lea thought to herself nervously, they should not have such glittering eyes and feral expressions. All looked at Lea curiously – she could have sworn that some looked at her maliciously, angrily – but she was careful to keep her expression pleasant and reserved this time; while everyone nodded or smiled when they saw Caleb, they ultimately left Lea alone.

A frown soon came to Lea's eyes. She recognised no one in this place, not a single courtier, not a rich noble. How could that be possible?

As they left the bigger halls behind to enter a zigzagging maze of gradually emptying corridors, her frown only deepened. Haunting music would reach her and Caleb, only to stop with jarring suddenness the moment Lea got close to its source, as though both player and instrument disappeared just before she could spot them.

By the time Caleb brought Lea into a room decorated in reds and blues, her head was pounding once more. The quiet of the room struck her like an unexpected balm, and Lea looked around her in relief. She was standing in a neat little study. Bookcases lined curving walls, and a couch and armchairs – these of varying sizes – were placed in equally varying locations. Two plain wooden chairs faced a mahogany writing desk behind which stood a tall, hard-backed chair. The chair was empty.

Lea raised an enquiring brow. "The master magician is away from his lair," she remarked, and turned to Caleb. "Am I supposed to simply wait here until he returns?"

"Certainly not, my lady peasant," he assured her. "I will call my master back immediately from wherever he has gone to."

She dimpled despite herself. So Gabriel had told him of her strange heritage. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded," Lea muttered beneath her breath. "You bloody illusionist."

Caleb stiffened where he stood. Ignoring her, he continued in a soft, fawning little voice, "I'm certain you are _absolutely_ exhausted, my lady. I will fetch Gabriel for you right away. You shall not be bothered by my uncouth presence any longer."

Lea gaped as he turned around smartly and walked to the door.

"I'm sorry if I offended you," she called out quickly. "I did not mean to imply that –"

His snort travelled gently to her position before she could finish. Caleb turned to face her. "I'm sure you're not sorry at all, _my lady_. But I have to say –" And there was a sudden pleased little grin on his lean face. "I have never enjoyed touring the castle more than I did this afternoon." His slim frame folded into a deep bow. "Thank you for the entertainment."

Before Lea could reply, the study door swung shut on his departing figure. She stared in surprise.

"Well, I don't care if he was offended," Lea remarked at last. "He and his master might enjoy playing their little tricks on others, but I don't have the time to entertain such foolishness."

She remembered vaguely the unusual reaction she'd had to the dark-haired youth in the forest and wondered now why she wasn't feeling anything but irritation. Her gaze fell to the crutches clutched in her damp palms. Resisting the impulse to break the clumsy things, Lea laid them down by a small table set between two enormous armchairs on the room's left, facing the windows, and limped to the nearest chair. She fell onto its large seat with a sigh of relief, sagging against the soft plushness like a drooped, broken flower resting on satin cushions. And waited.

For a long time, nothing happened. The sound of footsteps resounded just outside the study door at odd moments, but they always passed, fading into silence. Never the great Gabriel Amarinth....

Lea leaned back in her comfortable seat, and wondered at the richness of this unknown noble. A quick glance around his study confirmed him as a man of taste, elegance and – she saw with some wariness – learning. The study was a cosy one with that unusually high ceiling that Lea was getting used to in the castle. Plush maroon carpeting and wood-panelled walls greeted her curious eyes. There were intriguing trinkets in shelves and on tables arranged with studied abandon in dark corners.

What distinguished the study from any other she'd seen though was the partially circular shape of it. The ceiling-high bookcases behind the writing desk were curved beautifully to fit a spherical corner, lending a cosy, den-like ambience to that the end of the room; tall tomes of disgustingly thick books arrayed the ample shelves, spines brilliantly shaded in different colours.

Lea's eyes narrowed. Nobles and administrators normally possessed only thick, ancient books in leathered bindings of black or dusty brown. At least, in Lorien and Makliaven they did. This place though... So far, none of it made any sense to her.

She took in a shallow breath, tried not to imagine that she was somewhere all too far away from her kingdom. At the thought, Lea's attention fell unerringly to the tall windows opposite her armchair. Heavy ice-blue drapes hung on either side of the closed latticed windows, allowing sunlight to slant into the room cheerfully. From here, Lea could glimpse sky, brick and more windows; the castle had to be built around an inner garden or courtyard of some kind to allow for such a view.

Another ten minutes passed in silent stillness.

"Where is he?" The study's cosy aspect was beginning to take on the guise of a forgotten, abandoned chamber. Lea wanted to open the door, but was half-afraid some wild animal might find its way into the study while she was powerless to defend herself. Her hand crept to the high, ruffled collar of her white shirt, pulled at it absently. Somehow, she must persuade Gabriel Amarinth to allow her to carry weapons. He'd mentioned exceptions to his inconvenient rule, hadn't he?

She fidgeted with her clean, white silk shirt and tried to ignore the familiar fear creeping upon her. Brown eyes, large in a pale face, darted to the closed door.

"He needn't have closed it," she muttered to herself, and half rose to her feet.

There was the sound of someone walking past again.

Lea hesitated, sat back down very slowly. She began to wonder if Caleb had even informed his master that she was in his study. Oh, why did they so adore leaving their windows shut in this place? It was too hot. Too stifling.

She ran her finger around the inner rim of her shirt collar again, absently trying to loosen it. Her free hand clenched and unclenched on the plump chair arm. She felt so small and insignificant sitting in this enormous chair, drowning in its soft confines, her feet barely meeting the study's carpeted floors...

"It was _he_ who wanted to meet _me_ , after all. Where is he anyway?" Lea bit her lip, tried to still her whirling senses by staring at the bright blue sky outside. It didn't help. "Bloody trickster, keeping me waiting like this."

And then, in a tight little voice, "I can't do this anymore." She rose to her feet.

As if by magic, Gabriel strode into the small study.
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Chapter 9

Lea stared at Gabriel Amarinth speechlessly.

In the confines of his neat, well-appointed study, he seemed more imposing than ever, tall and lean and brimming with a kind of well-leashed, vibrant energy that made her instantly stand up very straight as she faced him. A mantle of deep maroon – almost black really – swirled around him, a dark shimmering cape better suited to traversing shadowed alleys in the dead of night when none could see its wearer come upon them, than elegant castle corridors.

Lea's sharp eyes spotted a damp patch on the bottom of that grand mantle, visible only because of its lighter shaded inner lining; he must have just returned from somewhere outside the castle.

He walked past her, and those brilliant blue eyes widened slightly. "Are you going somewhere, Lea Tornith?" Gabriel enquired.

"Oh, n-no," she stammered, and sat down at once. "Thank you for seeing me, my lord."

Gabriel nodded to her politely, and walked straight to his desk, much like Michael would have done if she'd been in his study back home. Lea watched Gabriel carefully, wondering what kind of a man the illusionist was, if he was similar in nature to her cousin at all.

"Caleb says you have been attempting the use of crutches," Gabriel remarked with his back still turned to her; his attention was focused on putting something into a compartment in the shelves behind his desk. "Why did you not use the chair we created for you if you could not walk without discomfort?"

Lea's expression turned blank. This was the last topic she'd expected Gabriel to bring up. "It seemed inconvenient," she said finally.

"More inconvenient than dragging yourself around the place with those tiny tools?" He shut the compartment's small door and finally turned to face her. "They're playthings after all, intended for use by children, not adults. If you'd wanted crutches, you should have asked my apprentice to obtain a proper set, archaic as they are."

While Lea digested this piece of intelligence in silent fury, Gabriel shrugged and moved to his upholstered high-backed chair. His mantle came off with a swift turn of elegant fingers. He slung it over the back of the chair, and sat down.

Lea watched nervously as he rested his elbows on the desk and looked straight at her. She found herself tensing in her seat. That cosy, spherical corner of the room suddenly seemed imposing to her, unreachable, almost like a shadowed alcove from which she would be judged and found wanting if she were not careful. She frowned. And deliberately forced herself to relax.

Gabriel steepled his fingers. "You are feeling better now, I hope?" he asked politely.

Her smile was wan. "Yes. I could be better, my lord, but... Yes, I feel stronger than when I first awoke."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Lea hesitated, badly wanting to find out what manner of city she had strayed into but not trusting Gabriel to tell her the truth. Finally, she ventured a soft, "Caleb tells me that you are a magician."

"Does that surprise you after our conversation earlier?"

She was disturbed to see no sign of deception in his eyes or in his face. "I did not think you meant what you said," Lea answered with a friendly smile. "Not so – literally, anyway."

Her host quirked a brow. "Is there something metaphorical about being a magician?" Gabriel wondered.

"Well, no but... That is, what I mean is..." Lea faltered, and felt silent.

He leaned back in his seat with a thoughtful look on his face. "Ah, I see. You did not believe what I said."

"I wouldn't quite say _that_ , my lord."

"Oh? How would you put it then?" He sounded genuinely curious.

"I... Well, I..." Lea began, and finally capitulated. "No, I... I didn't believe it." There was no point in misrepresenting herself. If Gabriel Amarinth was as well-informed a person as she guessed he was, he should know that no self-respecting citizen of Lorien believed in magic.

"Not even after your little tour through my castle?" Gabriel wondered. "My apprentice informed me of your obvious surprise at the sight of our many guests and courtiers."

"Your peoples seem... unusual," Lea said carefully. "But not more so than those of any strange city, I'm sure."

"You truly believe that, don't you?" A small, mocking smile crept to Gabriel's lips. "Do you have an explanation for everything you see then, child of Lorien?"

Lea's mouth tightened in annoyance. The way he'd said that, it was as if being from Lorien was an insult in itself. "The animals," she said slowly, "are obviously trained to behave themselves around people." Animal trainers in Lorien could easily accomplish such a feat if they wanted to, she thought.

"Trained." Gabriel's eyes glinted in appreciation. "Ah, yes, that is possible certainly." He waved an expansive hand. "But what about my people?"

"What about them?" Lea asked politely.

"Do they not seem... unusual in your eyes?"

She shrugged. "No doubt someone who was a stranger to the ways of Lorien may find our people peculiar too." Sometimes, even she did, and she had been born and bred in Lorien. The thought brought a small smile to her face. "I'm certain your people are no more unusual than mine, my lord.

"Remarkable," Gabriel murmured. "So eager to explain away what is so very clearly in front of your eyes."

There was a moment of silence. "Perhaps I've been hasty in my conclusions," Lea conceded finally. "Caleb was offended when I called you an illusionist." She remarked teasingly, "I suppose you would say he was right to be offended."

Gabriel tilted his head to the side. "It's not often our guests pay us such disrespect," he remarked, and this time Lea could not mistake the veiled displeasure in that smooth voice.

The oddest quiver ran up her spine. She vaguely registered it as alarm. Her brows drew together in consternation. She was forgetting her carefully laid plans too often. "Disrespect was not my intention," she mumbled.

"Was it not?" Gabriel's hands fell to the table. The ruby on his finger glinted brightly at Lea. "You have reached a place that is all too different from Lorien, Lea Tornith. We have magic here. Real magic. You can understand that your disbelief in our way of life might prove offensive to our people. And to me."

What to say to such strange statements? "Offense was not my intent," Lea repeated automatically. She was beginning to feel like a trained parrot.

"May I ask how you like your room, Lea?"

She blinked, startled at the change of subject. "Uh... yes?" Lea replied doubtfully.

Gabriel surveyed her without expression.

"It is lavish indeed, my lord," Lea said hastily. "Far too lavish for one such as myself."

"The rooms in my castle decorate themselves especially for their guests," was his unexpected response. "So it seems what you need is precisely such lavish surroundings." He raised a dark brow. "Do not stare at me as though I possess two heads, Lea Tornith."

"I have to say, my lord," Lea said politely, wondering if she'd misheard the bit about the room decorating itself, "that as pleasant and soothing as my room is, it is perhaps – not in my usual style, unfortunately."

"Oh, that we know already," was Gabriel's next surprising reply.

"You – you do?"

"The paintings of landscapes and flowers, the touch of light pinks and golds that colour your room... All of this might not have found favour in your eyes just yet. But something in you requires, er, soothing, I'm afraid, for the room to have adorned itself in such a manner."

Confusion speedily progressed to irritation. "Perhaps the room made a mistake," Lea offered, and couldn't stop her annoyance from making its way into her voice. "It doesn't know me all that well, after all."

"You would be surprised," Gabriel said very steadily, "at how well your room knows you. It would be remiss of me not to mention that its first choice of decor was entirely different from what it wears today. Certainly unsuitable for a peasant, even one of noble blood."

"And why is that, my lord?" Lea managed calmly, but a tight knot of anxiety had formed inside her.

That tiny, mocking smile deepened. "It became an armoury."

A startled silence greeted the words.

"An armoury?"

"Of the most sophisticated build." Up went a winged brow very casually. "And of the most intricate weaponry."

Lea stared at him in silence. She was beginning to feel like they were fencing in the dark to settle a score she knew nothing about. Was this conversation intended to indicate that he knew who she was? But if so, why be mysterious about it all?

"Whatever made it change its mind?" she said at last. "The room, I mean. It looks nothing like an armoury now."

"You did."

"Me? What did I do?"

"You changed the room's mind."

Gabriel watched as Lea's features worked to hide her confusion. He smiled again. It wasn't a nice smile. "The room decided to give you what you needed, instead of what you wanted. Very wise decision." At the sudden dark frown that crossed her face, he put up a hand. "I shall leave it to you to decide if I speak the truth. More importantly, are your injuries healing well?"

"Better than I expected," Lea answered, but there was a barely hidden belligerence beneath her words. _If one's captor is mad_ , she wondered, _would that make it easier to get away from him, or harder?_ "At this rate, I should be able to leave within the week, my lord."

Another brief silence fell over them. This time, it was accompanied by a shadow of foreboding that slithered its way very slowly up Lea's spine. Uneasily, she leaned forward in her plump armchair. "Is something wrong, my lord?"

"I believe," her host replied, "that it would be best if we dispense with the formalities. Please, call me Gabriel."

"I apologise, but I will not be able to do so. It is difficult for me to think of you as lesser than the lord you are undoubtedly are." That was nicely done, Lea thought with satisfaction. He would have no choice now but to clarify his rank and position in the Makliaven hierarchy.

But Gabriel didn't answer immediately. Instead, he placed his palms together, facing towards her like a small, fallen steeple – or the symbol of peace that many a monk in Makliaven's eastern territories used – and looked down thoughtfully.

Lea's gaze narrowed sharply on those elegant hands. She almost laughed out loud at the sudden thought that rose in her mind. No monk in Makliaven could keep a castle of any kind in his possession, let alone possess the opulent clothes and jewels Gabriel wore with such ease. He would have to do better than this to fool her.

But her host didn't seem to be aware of Lea's sharp eyes fixed on his face as she waited for him to speak. His own gaze was absently trained on those long fingers as he tapped them gently together. And then, just when Lea was about to lose her patience, Gabriel began.

"In my castle," he said, very slowly, "there is no rank to be observed beyond master and apprentice. I am not, as you put it, a 'lord', though I am Guardian of Verlaine, charged with its protection, and the apprenticeship of all its peoples in our many arts – magical or no. However, it would be inappropriate for my guests to assume the mantle of apprentice to me. You are not my subjects. Your protection and your adherence to our laws falls to me, but not your loyalty. Hence, all guests in my home are of equal rank amongst themselves and amongst my people. And, to an extent, me."

He looked up suddenly, his expression so grim that a startled Lea involuntarily shrank back in her enormous chair.

"But I must emphasise adherence to our laws," Gabriel continued. His hard gaze seemed to rake her features, reading carefully her every expression. "Rank does not dictate truth, or justice, or protection from harm; we do well without such a structure to govern our realm. But if I speak of protection, Lea Tornith, it would be remiss of me not to explain something to you." He paused, watching as Lea held her tongue, her curiosity writ all over her face. "You may not do as you please in Verlaine without consequence. This forest – this castle – have been hidden from the sight of those who would do us harm. None outside Verlaine can see it, and I intend to keep it that way."

More talk of illusions. Lea was becoming more and more impatient; she refused to dwell on the fact that she was also becoming a bit afraid. All right then, if he _was_ from Makliaven, was it possible Gabriel Amarinth's home lay outside the influence of his dangerous King? Was that why he believed he was free of Marcus Severin's reach, and the conventions of the Makliaven court?

Lea didn't know what to make of Gabriel anymore. One moment he wore the guise of an administrator, and then the mask of a ruler, and then – when she least expected it – the face of a lunatic. For the sake of the heavens, all she wanted to do was wait out her injuries and leave this place behind her like the bad dream it was turning into, not be given a catalogue of the castle's apparent magical powers and the laws governing its people.

But it seemed she would have to listen to just such a catalogue. Lea's mind wandered as Gabriel continued to speak. She was vaguely aware of him mentioning danger and risks and unwelcome visitors, and it occurred to her that such a paranoid man must surely have stationed guards to watch her without her knowing. If only she didn't have to wait to regain her strength –

"Wait, what did you say?" Lea asked suddenly.

If Gabriel was surprised by her sudden interruption, he didn't show it. Very smoothly, he repeated the words which made Lea turn quite cold in her warm seat. "You cannot leave this place until we are certain you mean us no harm."

"And," Lea said slowly, "when would that be exactly?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

Gabriel sat back in his high-backed seat. His smile failed to reach his eyes. "On you."

"On me?" Lea said finally. She was fast becoming aware that it would be hard to attack the tall noble successfully if he remained seated in that circular little corner behind his desk. "I don't understand," she said at last. "Do you mean because of my injuries?"

His next words confirmed her worst fears. "I shall not mislead you," Gabriel said softly. "It might take weeks, months." He paused. "Yes, even years – before we are convinced of your reasons for breaching our borders without permission."

A stunned silence followed.

"Is that all, my lord?" Lea said at last. "Months or years? Not decades. Centuries." She found that she was smiling faintly; if she did not smile, she might just start yelling at him. Her heart was beating so fast again, she was afraid she would have an apoplexy. This must be some foolish, cruel joke that she couldn't comprehend. Not for the first time, Lea was thankful that Gabriel was blissfully unaware of the dark thoughts whirling through his young guest's mind. "You must have a rich kingdom indeed," she added in a friendly tone, "to house your guests for such long periods at a time, my lord."

"Indeed," Gabriel replied, his eyes unreadable on hers. "Verlaine is quite rich, yes."

Something in his voice made Lea turn very still. All vestige of amusement died from her eyes, leaving them as cold as death. There were reports of people mysteriously disappearing who'd neared the dark forest circling the south of Lorien. Most put it down to the wild animals within, or roving mercenaries plying the quiet, shadowed trails skirting the woods. Now, for the first time, the suspicion of something far more nefarious than robbers or beasts pounded through Lea's mind.

"I am your prisoner," she said softly.

"You are our guest."

"Of course," she agreed swiftly. "A guest who cannot leave without her host's permission – Is this another form of illusion?" She couldn't stem the anger rising within her. He didn't want anyone to know this place existed. He would never let her leave. "You cannot keep me here, do you understand? I have to get back as soon as I can. I have to get back to Lorien!"

"Why?"

The calm query disoriented her. Lea's face worked as she tried to formulate an appropriate reply to such an absurd question. "I'm sorry?"

"Plead your case," he murmured, "and perhaps I will bend the rules for you."

Lea stared at Gabriel blankly. Plead her case? Plead her _case_? Who the devil did this man think he was? Oh, yes, for a brief moment she'd actually forgotten his earlier explanation: apparently, he was judge, jury and executioner within the walls of his mythical third kingdom. "There are those," Lea said through gritted teeth, "who will be looking for me. I have a family to care for."

"You are but a child," Gabriel pointed out, "to be bearing the responsibility of caring for a family. Your father will be grateful to learn that you are safe and away from the dangers of your uncle's trade."

"My uncle – will wonder what happened to me after the caravan was attacked." She let out a shaking breath. "My lord."

"If that is your only concern, we shall send him a message to tell him that you are safe, and that you have decided to stay with us as my guest for some time. We will even send him provisions and coin should he need it, to replenish the losses from the attack on your caravan."

Lea's lips thinned. What family would be satisfied with such reassurances, such recompense, in the place of a loved one?

The family of a trader's apprentice, she realised suddenly. A sick feeling flowered in her stomach. Such apprentices were often expected to be away from their family for long periods of time, in service to their trading master or under the patronage of a rich noble; someone such as Gabriel Amarinth. Her heart sank.

Almost on cue, Gabriel continued, "You were seeking a position with a patron in Lorien proper, were you not? My patronage would be a far more attractive option to any your uncle could have found in Lorien."

Damn him. She'd told Gabriel of her peculiar circumstances in good faith, but it seemed he would use this knowledge to her disadvantage. By the time her family realised their error, they would have lost any chance of finding out where Lea was being held.

"This is absurd, my lord," Lea said finally. "I mean you no harm. And I am grateful for your help. Let me leave once my injuries are healed and I won't bother you any further. My family _will_ compensate you for any inconvenience caused during my stay here, be assured of this."

"I'm afraid I cannot change my decision," Gabriel said simply. "It is the same decision I make for any who enter the forest without permission."

"I did not know there was any permission to obtain," Lea pointed out, intending to sound placating. She must only have succeeded in conveying anger however, for Gabriel's brows drew together warningly.

"You must understand, my lord," Lea tried again, and forced out a smile, "that I had no intention of trespassing on–"

"Gabriel," he interrupted her.

"My lord?"

"You may call me Gabriel," he reminded her expressionlessly. "And you may not leave the castle grounds until I say you may."

Lea took in a breath, tried to marshal her thoughts. There was an unyielding light in the eyes of the man before her. She began to feel a familiar mix of fear and anger roiling inside her. "I apologise for entering your kingdom without your permission," Lea got out tightly, "but surely there is no justification here for making me your prisoner."

"You are not my prisoner."

She let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "A prisoner by any other name remains a prisoner, my lord."

"Not in my kingdom."

"By all the fates in existence," Lea burst out, and sprung up in fury, "no one would ever believe me if I did tell them this estate existed. No matter the noble blood running in my veins, my lord, I remain still a mere peasant, with no power or riches to her name. None would believe a word I said about you, or this place. What could I possibly do to harm you?"

A tense silence filled the small study.

"That question," Gabriel said mildly, "is precisely the reason you shall stay with us yet."

"I..." Lea's mouth worked. "I..."

He lifted an elegant hand in the air. " _If_ you are telling us the truth as to who you are, how you came to enter the forest, surely it cannot harm you to remain my guest? Your story should not prove hard to confirm, Lea." He smiled pleasantly. "Perhaps even in weeks, instead of months, or years."

Somehow, Lea managed to nod. She found herself sitting back down very slowly. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. Her mind was already filling with plans of escape. Of all the luck, to walk from one trap into another.

"If that is what you wish, my lord – Gabriel," she said at last, and couldn't help feeling like the words were being choked out of her. She looked away. "I am forced to accede to your demands."

There was another awkward moment of silence; Lea knew her words had come out sounding too much like a challenge.

"Look at me," she heard Gabriel say then, very softly, and – she hadn't thought it would be possible – but her stomach sank even further. Lea raised her head defiantly. Damn the man. Let him try to keep her here if he could.

Whether it was the pride in her eyes that warned him or the fury swirling in their brown depths, Lea wasn't certain, but Gabriel's expression abruptly hardened. She found herself stiffening at the sudden sense of power carefully leashed beneath the cool mask of this deranged nobleman.

"Do not try to escape Verlaine, Lea Tornith," Gabriel said then, oh so very softly, and as Lea heard the words, she trembled inside. "The forest is our boundary for a reason. It would be easier than you think for me to find you. And you would not want me to find you when I am angry. Do you understand me?"

Despite herself, Lea nodded once.

Gabriel's expression cooled. "I'm glad we understand each other."

A flash of scorn swept across Lea's pale face, but Gabriel appeared to have missed it. "You shall stay within the castle grounds," he continued pleasantly, "and only its grounds. If you wish to explore the forest and the rest of my kingdom, you will obtain my permission first. Caleb shall be your guide should you need assistance with finding your way about the castle."

"I don't think your apprentice wants to," Lea began, only to watch as Gabriel Amarinth lifted an elegant forefinger in the air, signalling quiet. She clamped her lips shut, irritation stamped on her pinched face.

"Quite so," Gabriel murmured. "Now, my apprentice does not normally serve as an aide to our guests, but our usual aides have already been allocated to their scheduled guests, and this is a busy time for us so –"

"He told me all this already," she muttered.

"– so you will simply have to get along with him," Gabriel continued serenely. "I trust you will be able to accomplish this feat?"

"But I don't _need_ a guide," Lea said from between her teeth. "I –"

"Caleb may not be as sociable as some of my other helpers," Gabriel continued, as though she hadn't spoken. "His mind is focused on his studies, as it should be. But he will nevertheless do his best to ensure you are comfortable in your stay here." And when she would have spoken again, he said warningly, "Think twice about your words, Lea Tornith. I will not tolerate your insulting my apprentices for no good reason."

Lea clenched her fists. And smiled. Her eyes were as hard as stone. "I look forward to my time here."

It was meant to sound like a prison sentence and it did.

To Lea's disgust, Gabriel merely returned her smile. "As do we," he agreed.

Another brief silence fell between them. Lea no longer saw any point in trying to convince him to let her leave. It was like talking to a blank wall. Gabriel Amarinth obviously saw himself as lord and master of his small estate, intended to rule it – and her – like the tyrannical King he insisted he was not. And for now, Lea would just have to tolerate his tyranny. But when her injuries finally healed...

An unknowingly predatory smile came to Lea's lips. "How would you know?" she asked finally. "About – about my goodwill, I mean." A hint of deference crept into her voice, "Do you have tests that your guests must pass in order to prove they intend no harm to you and yours, my lord?"

He shrugged. "There are no tests in particular. You will stay, or leave, at my discretion."

Lea bit back something rather rude. "If that is all, my lord?" she said instead, very politely, and made a move to rise.

Her progress was arrested when Gabriel said quickly, "No, remain where you are, please. There is something you must do before you leave."

Leaning back in her seat, Lea watched as he rummaged in his desk drawer for a few seconds. She wasn't sure when she knew he'd found what he was looking for – it might have been the rather satisfied gleam in Gabriel's eyes, or the suggestion of a smile crossing his face once more – but whatever it was made Lea watch him warily. She didn't like that smile. It was one of his mocking smiles, the kind that made her feel she was completely at his mercy and quite without her usual defences.

"What is it?" she said involuntarily. "What is it that I must do before I leave?"

Gabriel looked up. "Oh, nothing difficult, I assure you." He got to his feet, and made his way around the desk, striding unhurriedly towards her. "Merely a small formality."

He walked like the leopard she'd seen in the castle earlier, lithe and purposeful, and Lea's anger abruptly turned to an emotion altogether unexpected. Confused, she didn't move as he stooped down. An emotion very akin to shock thrummed through her senses when his eyes met hers a mere two inches away. This close, his gaze seemed a dark, glittering blue, deep and unfathomable and she found it difficult to keep her eyes steady on his.

And then, Gabriel was standing up again, breaking eye contact. Lea was surprised at the sudden disappointment that filled her. He meddled with something in his hands. She heard a sharp click, and then Gabriel turned to her once more. "Put this on, please."

Hesitantly, Lea took the thing he held out. She stared in disbelief. This, she hadn't expected: it was spectacles.

For a moment, she just turned them around and around in her hands, absently inspecting the black, old-fashioned rims, the dull and owlishly oval shape of them, the slim silver-tipped handles and narrow bridge... Spectacles were a relatively new invention in Lorien, but already their shapes and colours in her kingdom were pleasant to the eye, fashionable even. This pair was abjectly unfashionable and looked a little worn. She eyed them suspiciously.

"I don't need spectacles," Lea said at last, and lifted them up to Gabriel.

He shook his head. "These are not the kind of spectacles you have in Lorien."

"Oh? What are they for then?" Lea let her hand fall, the surprisingly light object clenched tight in her fist as she stared resentfully at her host. "It doesn't matter. I don't need them."

"I have to introduce you to the inhabitants of the castle and the forest," Gabriel replied lightly. "Put them on please."

She stared at him uncomprehendingly. Was he being serious? "I don't wear spectacles."

"Put them on," he repeated softly. "I will not ask you again."

Lea resisted the urge to fling the thing in his face. Never had Gabriel Amarinth appeared more insane or arbitrary. But it would be better to just humour the man and get this over with it so she could return to her room and prepare her plans for escape.

Without a word, Lea put the glasses on and sat back. Her hands fell to her lap. The spectacles were uncomfortably large for her small face and perched awkwardly on the bridge of her nose, threatening to slide down at the first opportunity.

For a moment, nothing happened. Gabriel watched Lea in silence, his sapphire eyes quite expressionless as she stared at him balefully, brown eyes unusually large behind the spectacles' thick lenses.

Suddenly, Lea gasped aloud. Her fingers gripped hard to the chair arms. And then, she was clinging to her armchair with all her might, though neither she nor it was moving. Another gasp and a tiny cry of pain, and the glasses were off, back in Gabriel's elegant hands.

Lea looked up at him in shock. The colour drained from her face. What had happened – that startling montage of faces and places swirling through her mind at an impossible speed... It should not have been possible. She dare not release her death grip on the armchair. The sense of being pulled through time and space was still rippling through her shaken senses.

Gabriel stooped down once more.

This time, a frightened Lea drew back.

But he grasped her chin as he had in her room earlier that morning and kept her still, turned her face this way and that, always retaining contact with her wide brown eyes, their pupils dilated in fear. A strangely pensive expression descended on Gabriel's face. He released her. "I'm sorry, little spitfire," he said gently, "but that was necessary. And so is this."

Lea felt something light fall onto her right wrist. Trembling, she looked down –it was a silver bracelet, elegantly set with the tiniest of amber jewels encased in transparent glass at its borders, larger colourless jewels strung along its winding centre. The bracelet curled lovingly around her wrist, the metal cool and somehow feather-light against her skin. Something inside her cried out in protest.

"What is this?" Lea choked out. She turned her wrist around very slowly, and felt sick; the bracelet had no clasp from which it could be undone. Oh yes, she'd seen it before; many times before – worn by the myriad castle occupants she'd met on her way to this study.

Her expression grew horrified. And then, furious. "I will not be marked!" she spat out, scraping at the delicate jewels. "Take it off me!"

"You are free to travel through the castle and its grounds now," Gabriel said quietly. He watched as Lea lifted raging brown eyes to his face. "All know that you are under my protection."

"You will take this off, my lord," Lea said, struggling to control her temper. She managed to still her fingers from their desperate attempts to free her of the jewelled bracelet's cold clasp. "Take it off right now!"

He ignored her. "You will not be able to remove the bracelet from your wrist," Gabriel continued in that annoyingly polite voice. "No, don't speak just yet. You will only regret voicing your displeasure to me over what is an absolute necessity." He paused as Lea visibly struggled to keep herself from speaking, then added more gently, "I must leave you now. But if you need someone with whom to discuss the reasons behind your appearance in my kingdom, or the reasons you feel a necessity to leave it so swiftly –"

"But I've _already_ –"

"Yes, I know what you've already said about it," Gabriel remarked, and raised a finger to stem the furious protests about to spill out of Lea's mouth. "Regardless, should you be unable to sleep tonight and wish to change your, er, version of events, I am nearly always awake."

"Why ever would I be unable to sleep?" she said at last, in a shaky, sarcastic whisper, and her gaze returned helplessly to her bracelet. Her lids fell for a moment, hiding the now murderous light in her eyes. Oh, this man would pay for shackling her in such an expensive bauble.

When he stayed silent however, Lea was forced to look up once more. For the first time since she'd met him, Lea saw Gabriel hesitate. Wariness spread its wings deep inside her. She went very still. "My lord? Why would I be unable to sleep?"

"The first three days that you were ill," Gabriel said softly, "you suffered from nightmares. They were severe enough that you could not sleep unless... assisted."

Lea went absolutely white. Her lashes fell to hide the expression in her eyes. "What did I say," she said dully, "during these – nightmares?"

"You did not speak as clearly as you dreamt." Another, briefer hesitation – and then he added gently, "You merely cried out for help sometimes, or muttered words we could not make out. That is all."

She could not bear to hear the pity in his voice. And when Lea kept her face turned from his, she heard Gabriel sigh softly. He sounded frustrated. Or tired. When she looked up again, his expression told her nothing. And then, he was already turning away from her, returning to his desk.

"There are some things I must attend to," Gabriel threw over his shoulder, and gathered some papers into efficient hands. "Think of Caleb whenever you need to see him, open one of the castle doors, and you will be with him. I will see you later in the day to ensure that all is well with you, Lea Tornith."

Lea didn't – couldn't – say a word.

She sat in silence, trying to make sense of what had happened, long after Gabriel had retrieved his cloak and left the room.
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Chapter 10

With shaking hands, Lea tugged at the bracelet framing her wrist. She pinched it, scraped it, tapped on its intricately cut jewels as she tried to find its hidden clasp. Finally, she banged her wrist on Gabriel's desk.

A blue-green bruise flowered into being on Lea's smooth skin; not a single gem in the bracelet was marred by the ill treatment.

"For the sake of –" Lea kicked the desk leg with unintended force and winced, hobbled where she stood. "Damn him, damn him, _damn_ him!"

A dull sound made her whirl around. The study's open doorway stared forlornly at her. Lea couldn't see anyone beyond it.

"Who's there?" she called out, waited for the space of a heartbeat. And then two. No answer came.

Feeling thoroughly disgusted at her own ineptitude, just a bit scared for some reason she couldn't name, Lea finally hobbled out of the study, worrying at her bracelet. There was no one at all in this carpeted corridor. "What kind of a host is he?" she muttered absently, glancing to left and right. No servants. No hurrying lackeys or busy maids. No guards. "And what kind of a castle is this?"

Her eyes darkened. What had she spoken in her sleep? Dare she believe what Gabriel told her? "Magician," she murmured beneath her breath. "Illusionist. _Charlatan_."

She took in a shaky breath, tried to calm down. The sounds of a hushed conversation floated down the corridor towards her.

Unwilling to meet any more peculiar personalities, still disturbed by the images of people and places that had flooded her mind's eye when she'd put on those old spectacles, Lea hastily limped deeper into the castle. She passed more and more empty, opulent rooms and enormous marble halls. Her hurrying footsteps echoed off the stone floors in an eerie, lonely chorus as she pressed deeper into the castle's depths.

Lea wasn't sure when it happened, but suddenly the splendour of the castle's tapestries and carpets, old statues and panelled corridors began to take on the aspect of a never ending, lavish labyrinth out of which she would never escape. She began to pant softly, found her steps slowing of their own volition. She was lost.

"Hello, is anyone there?" Lea called out, and came to a stop before a rather dull painting of a hilly landscape. She leaned gratefully against the rough stone wall beside it, massaged her aching knee, and cursed beneath her breath at the lack of strength in unsteady fingers. "Where _is_ everyone?"

There was a sudden memory of Gabriel's injunction to think of Caleb if she wanted to see him. "Ridiculous," Lea muttered, and determinedly took off again. "That damned apprentice is the last person I'd want to see."

And yet, as she continued to peer into dark passageways and empty rooms branching off the wide corridor she was in, Lea found herself hoping rather desperately for a glimpse of a certain dark haired youth; the never-ending corridors were too quiet, too solitary. She needed to see a sign of something living here beside herself.

Five minutes later, there was still no Caleb and Lea feared she was hopelessly lost. The voices she'd heard earlier had long since faded away. An oddly oppressive feeling was pressing on her.

_No windows_ , Lea realised suddenly. She bit her lip. She needed to get out of this part of the castle – with its windowless, airless corridors – as soon as she could.

What had Gabriel said again? Not just about thinking of Caleb. It was something about _opening doors_ and thinking of Caleb –

Her ears caught a soft rustle of movement just behind her.

Lea spun around without thinking, only to gasp softly at the pain shooting up her right ankle. Hopping on one foot to the nearest wall, she bent down to gingerly run her fingers over her ankle, praying it was just a sprain that was causing the pain. It was. As she straightened, Lea's breath caught. Her brows shot up. She stared at a far turn in the corridor. It was empty, but for the veriest fraction of a second she could have sworn she'd seen someone standing just there, hooded and cloaked, watching her in silence.

"Hello?" she called out, leaning forward. "Is anyone there?"

No one replied. Shaking off the feeling that she was being watched, Lea turned to her right; out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a flash of _something_ moving. Instinctively, Lea spun around again, careful not to put too much pressure on her throbbing ankle. A shadow darted around a corner.

"I knew it," she said aloud. "I knew he'd set someone to watch me." And then, "Wait," Lea called out hurriedly. "Wait for me!"

Maybe it was because this was the first clear sign of another living being that she'd come across for far too long, but Lea knew she had to follow the guard who'd been trailing her steps since she left Gabriel's study. Only, he didn't seem to want her to follow him. Probably afraid of gaining Gabriel's censure if I discover the fellow, Lea thought grimly.

By the time she reached the final turn in the passageway, her mysterious stalker was nowhere in sight. Another long corridor stretched before her, empty and quiet. At the end of it stood a tall wooden door, painted red with a golden knob.

"Lost him," she murmured, looking back over her shoulder. No one still. "You're getting too soft, Lea." She faced forward again. "Gabriel said I was to open a door when I thought of the apprentice," she remembered now, and pursed her lips, feeling foolish for even considering this. But the lack of windows in this corridor too was stark. She could already feel the beginnings of the irrational fear she'd hated since – forever. Her jaw firmed. Slowly, Lea walked to the end of the corridor, her eyes darting to left and right, half expecting to spot the shadow she'd followed lurking behind some unseen corner.

But he wasn't to be found. And all too soon, Lea stood right in front of the red door. She rubbed damp palms on the sides of her trousers, and paused. A second later, her hand came out, hovered at the doorknob.

Her hand fell to her side. A frown formed between Lea's brows. "What are you waiting for?" she muttered. There was no reason not to open the door. But something held her back. "I have a bad feeling about this," she said beneath her breath, and took a step back. Her instincts had never failed her before.

But that was _before_ , Lea reminded herself bitterly. Now, she daren't trust herself, not with her sudden bouts of cowardice dogging her every step.

There was a quick look over her shoulder again – no one. Lea pursed her lips. There was no other door in this corridor. She turned back to the red door, hesitantly put out a hand again, and knocked lightly. There was no answer. Carefully, Lea put her hand on the silly little golden door knob. Something inside her trembled in protest.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

Lea turned around at once. Her relieved expression swiftly turned to disbelief when the liveried guard she'd expected turned out to be someone else. "Caleb."

The dark-haired apprentice was standing about five feet from where Lea stood, clad in a light blue robe this time, with silver embroidery at its collar and sides. He was watching her with a puzzled look on his face. "What are you doing?" he asked again.

"Hello." Lea casually leaned back against the red door, unable to keep her relief from her voice. "Gabriel told me I could find you if I thought of you and opened a door, but I didn't really expect that to happen." Her lips quirked as something occurred to her. "I could almost believe you appear before me now by magic, but of course, I didn't turn the knob after all, so I suppose you're not here by magic at all. He sent you to find me, didn't he?"

Caleb's eyes went just that bit larger and Lea knew she'd been right. He made an annoyed sound. "Your Lorien upbringing is too tenacious for my taste, peasant girl." Grudgingly then, "But yes, Gabriel did send me to find you, as it happens."

Lea wisely decided to ignore the boy's slur to her kingdom. She would repay him the insult before she left, of course. For now, all she wanted was somewhere with _windows_.

"So, what does he want from me now?" she enquired politely, and held up her recently bejewelled wrist. "If he intends to take this off –"

"That will certainly not happen." Caleb crossed his arms across his chest. Lea half expected him to begin tapping his foot in impatience, but he didn't. "What are you doing here anyway? Planning to rob us of drink and nourishment?" he mused. "Or perhaps – yes, perhaps trying to find a way out," he murmured, looking her up and down coolly. "Foolish indeed."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lea retorted with ill grace. "But even I am not so foolish as to risk escaping while I've yet to be healed of my injuries."

"Meaning you'll try once you're well?" Caleb suggested.

Lea shrugged. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to." He cocked his head to the side. "How did you get here anyway? My master said he left you in his study. That's a whole wing away from the castle's cellars." When she looked at him blankly, he inclined his head at the door. "That's the door to the cellars, I'm afraid. You won't get out that way."

_Cellars_? Lea's heart skipped a beat. Praying that she didn't look as horrified as she felt, she took a careful step away from the red door, and then another.

The dark-eyed apprentice watched her with interest. "Don't like cellars, eh?"

"Are you attending a function of some kind?" Lea enquired finally, and watched with relief as the interest in Caleb's eyes was rapidly replaced with suspicion. "Can I come with you?" Oh, her insides were still shaking, rebelling at the thought of what could have happened if she'd turned that golden doorknob.

"I'm due elsewhere within the hour, yes. And," he continued very distinctly, "there's no possibility you're coming with me, so you needn't look so pleased with yourself. Now, come on, will you? I'm supposed to hand you over to Starr before I leave. She needs to inspect the bandages."

Lea forced a jaunty smile, couldn't help throwing an involuntary glance over her shoulder at the red door to the castle cellars, and hurriedly placed more distance between her and _it_. "Starr?" Where had she heard that name before? "A healer," Lea remembered at last. "Gabriel told me she was one of my healers."

"And my fellow apprentice. I'm sure you'll like her." A pleased look lit Caleb's face as he watched Lea stepping closer to him. "If I'm busy, which I normally am, you may speak to her instead. Gabriel said she is to be your counsellor if you need advice for anything."

Lea smiled maliciously. With some distance between her and the cellars, her heart rate was returning to normal. "But he said _you_ would be my guide," she reminded Caleb, and added with thinly veiled sarcasm. "I was so looking forward to exploring the castle with you."

"I'm sure you were," Caleb muttered beneath his breath. "Look, I'm not made for such niceties. Can we just go already? I'm due elsewhere within an hour, and I've still got things to do before I leave so, if you'll just come along with me now, like a nice little peasant girl." And he grinned, before turning his back on her and striding off in the direction Lea'd just come from.

For the barest second, Lea was reminded of the satisfied look on Caleb's face when she'd struggled through the castle after him on the useless crutches he'd gifted her with. Her brows lifted. Had he been her shadow earlier, purposely taunted her into following him to a dead end? She frowned, moved away completely from the crimson door, and limped hurriedly after him.

"How did you find me?" Lea demanded once she caught up to him. "I didn't think anyone knew where I was." She considered that, added wryly, "Especially since I don't know anyone here besides you and your master."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, so I won't bother wasting my breath," Caleb replied. With the sweetest of smiles, he wondered, "Where are your crutches?"

"I'll be fine without them," Lea said through her teeth. It had been him, hadn't it? The little upstart better not be preparing to lead her on another pointless trail through the castle corridors. To her surprise, Caleb stopped just a little further down from where they were. Here, a wide, arched door of gleaming ivory was set into the dark, panelled wall.

A puzzled frown found its way to Lea's forehead. How could she have missed the striking door earlier? Her frown only deepened when Caleb silently opened the tall door.

"Wait," Lea said quickly. "You haven't told me where we're going."

"Close the door behind you," he threw over his shoulder, and walked through the doorway into the shadows beyond.
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Chapter 11

Being left alone in the barren corridor was something Lea wasn't prepared for. She hurriedly stepped through the open doorway – and stared. Her eyes widened. Quickly, she shut the white door behind her and leaned against it. "Well, now," Lea said softly. "Perhaps not a bootlegger after all."

"Bootlegger?" Caleb sounded puzzled. And then, in dawning disbelief, "You cannot _possibly_ be speaking of Gabriel."

Lea shrugged.

"You are digging a deep hole for yourself, peasant girl," Caleb growled out. "I will not tolerate insults to my master. None of us will."

"Oh, don't get your tights in a twist," Lea remarked and had to bite back a smile at the startled look that crossed Caleb's face. "Perhaps I was implying that you were the bootlegger, not your master."

"Perhaps you should learn to hold your tongue," he suggested, and added, "or my master might just decide to render you mute." His expression turned alight with anticipation. "Or let me do the job for him."

"I look forward to the day you try," Lea said beneath her breath. She surveyed this huge white room with interest. It was a research laboratory, she knew. Her cousin had invested in a similar place in the lower floors of his Lorien home, allowing for experimentation on unusual chemicals. This room was even bigger than Michael's and filled with far more jars and curious metal and wooden instruments. Unlike Michael's laboratory though, this lab wasn't busy. Lea couldn't see anyone in it besides her reluctant guide.

She walked further into the place, let out a slow whistle. "Your master has provided you with a very generous playground, Caleb."

The long glass table in the middle of the room was covered neatly by a bevy of glass tubes and bottles, some filled with coloured liquid, others quite empty of any contents that she could see. Six tall stools of a dark cream shade stood at various points by the table, and tall empty vases of stark ivory stood at odd corners, harmonising effortlessly with the room's soft tones. The colourless scheme of the lab had been altered only a touch by the profusion of cream-coloured lilies with green stalks placed in a tall white jar in a single corner.

Lea smiled appreciatively. "A feminine touch, I think," she murmured, and walked over to the lilies, her fingers caressing their silken petals gently. It reassured her to see something so graceful and alive in this otherwise cold, mechanical room.

After a moment, she made a slow turn where she stood, looking up at the same time, and wondered at the lack of lamps or sconces perched on the laboratory walls. The chamber was too brightly lit, the sharp whiteness of the room severe and slightly painful to her eyes; where was the source of such brightness?

And then, Lea turned to her left – and instinctively shielded her eyes. "Oh, how beautiful," she said involuntarily.

An array of wide windows faced her from the opposite side of the laboratory, tucked into a wide alcove housing a gleaming wooden window-seat with heavily carved drawers. What made Lea exclaim was of course not that carved window-seat, nor even the brilliant lighting spilling into the cool laboratory from the wide windows; it was the view framed by the arched windowpanes that made her catch her breath – a scene worthy of the most beautiful paintings to be hung in a castle chamber.

Stained glass windows from the opposite wing of the castle filled Lea's vision, all turquoise and glittering reds and luminous amber, framed by disorderly grey brick. Just above, there jutted towering ramparts, beige tips pointing serenely towards the thick clouds that littered the sky in scattered tufts of white.

For a moment, Lea's gaze wavered. She could have sworn the clouds formed the silhouettes of graceful, winged creatures – leviathans from tales of old, they seemed, or the shadows of some wild, distant relative. She blinked, closed her eyes. When Lea opened them again, the clouds were simple tufts of white once more, formless and plump and gentle as they moved across the sky. A frown crept into Lea's eyes. Slowly, she turned back to Caleb.

Gabriel's apprentice appeared wholly lost in his work. He held a thin vial of dark liquid in his hand, peered at it silently before adding more liquid – transparent and colourless stuff – from a nearby glass bowl. He was patently pretending Lea wasn't anywhere near him.

"Aren't you leaving yet?" she enquired after a moment.

"I have to prepare something first." Caleb's attention didn't stray from his work. "And I'd better wait for Starr to be done with you." Dark eyes glanced up at Lea briefly. "Seeing as I'm your guide and all."

"Oh." Lea's nose twitched slightly. There'd been a sly undertone to his words. He was waiting on purpose. She glanced around the room again, wondering when the mysterious Starr would finally make an appearance. "What are you doing anyway?"

"What do you care?" Caleb replied rudely. "Seeing as you don't believe in magic, it would be meaningless to explain the workings of this potion to you." Before Lea could reply him, Caleb added a quick, "Starr's over there by the way."

"Where?" She turned to left and right in confusion.

Head down, Caleb pointed towards the back of the laboratory.

For a moment, all Lea could see was stark white wall. But then she blinked, and blinked once more. "Oh," she breathed. "That is – remarkable."

A number of glass rooms stood in a lonely corner, their translucent walls cleverly creating an illusion of invisibility against the laboratory wall behind them. It was a camouflage not easily broken unless one was aware of their presence from the beginning, Lea guessed. But right now, even after learning of the existence of those translucent rooms, Lea couldn't make out anyone – or anything – inside them.

"Are you sure she's there?" she said doubtfully, and glanced back at Caleb. His attention remained on his peculiar little vial. Lea's gaze fell on a smaller thimble-sized vial of pink liquid set upright in a stand near the edge of the table. Curious, she stepped closer. Her hand crept forward.

"Don't touch anything," Caleb said sharply.

There'd been a touch of urgency beneath the words. Lea froze in place. "It won't blow up or something," she whispered guiltily, "will it?" If she'd been back home, her carelessness would have earned her a harsh rebuke; she daren't touch anything in Michael's lab without his permission. "Is it a chemical explosive?"

"Of course not," Caleb said impatiently. "I don't know where you got _that_ idea. It's just that you'd move it out of place, and I – I don't like things in the lab being moved out of place."

Lea drew her hand back. A perplexed, defensive look came to her face. "I'd put it back if I moved it."

"It's not the same," he muttered, and turned back to his work. "Gabriel should not have asked me to be your guide. I don't like having strangers in my rooms."

"I'm sorry," Lea began, and watched as Caleb lifted a thin finger to point once more towards the other side of the room. _He and his master_ have _to be related_ , she concluded with some annoyance. _They have perfected the art of rudely silencing others far too effectively for there to be no connection between them._

"Find Starr," Caleb said when Lea continued to stare at him. "Please."

She bristled at his tone, but finally shrugged and moved to the back of the laboratory. She still couldn't see anyone in those colourless rooms. "Are you sure," she began again, only to draw in a startled breath; as she'd passed the end of the long glass table, something sleek and black had emerged from one of the rooms.

For the life of her, Lea couldn't – daren't – move. Her eyes fixed unblinkingly on the black panther making its way towards her. "Not again," she whispered. "Not again." The words seemed to return the mobility to her body. Hastily, Lea backed away.

This large cat was smaller than the one she'd seen earlier in the day, but it was still all muscles and sinew on a proud, strong frame. The panther seemed absorbed, almost thoughtful, as it treaded towards the glass table. It passed a wary Lea slowly, paying her no mind, and walked to the centre of the room. There was a lithe, quick jump up onto one of the table's high stools. The panther's long black tail hung down to the floor, curling gracefully around a tapering stool leg as the large cat settled itself lazily on its haunches. Emerald eyes locked onto shocked brown. "Come here."

Lea jumped; she couldn't help it. Her lips parted just a little. She stared stupidly at the large creature.

"I said, come here," the panther repeated.

The colour leached completely from Lea's cheeks.

"Rationalise that." Caleb's voice held a hint of satisfaction in it.

Ignoring every instinct screaming at her to either run or sink a dagger in the creature's neck – a dagger, she reminded herself, which she didn't have – Lea inched closer to the black panther. Its coat gleamed with that raw, wild sheen that only its species seemed to possess. The jewelled necklace around its neck was fitted with delicately set emeralds that matched the colour of its eyes.

By the time Lea stood before the creature, she couldn't think what to do. Or say. Her emotions seemed to have moved somewhere beyond fear and disbelief into numb terror. What was this place? A carnival? Would the ringmaster suddenly emerge from behind a hidden curtain and demand his captive audience's applause? She actually took an involuntary glance around the room. No ringmaster appeared. Lea swallowed slightly and turned back to the panther.

"I understand your name is Lea Tornith now," the panther remarked. As it spoke, Lea watched the sleek muzzle move very gently. Its green eyes were very thoughtful in that soft, dark face.

"It is a lovely name," the panther continued, not without envy. "Not suitable for a peasant, perhaps, but perfectly appropriate for a tradeswoman. I understand that is your vocation?" The panther's tail twitched and it blinked lazily, but its eyes were intent on Lea's face.

She looked at Caleb standing at the other end of the glass table. He seemed utterly focused on adding a few more ingredients to his 'potion'. Abruptly, Lea chuckled. "Of course," she marvelled, and rocked back on her heels. The tension drained out of her. Her palms met in mocking claps. "You're a ventriloquist."

"The fates protect us." Caleb's expression turned wry. "She's a fool, Starr. And she tried to touch my vials. Make sure she doesn't do that again."

Lea stopped clapping. She looked at Caleb uncertainly and then back at the black panther. "Animals can't speak," she announced. "Not unless they're a parrot, anyway."

The panther's paw hit Lea's arm so fast she couldn't avoid it. The blow didn't hurt, but it shocked her and she backed away without a word, turning quite white, her eyes wide on the panther's.

"Watch your tongue, child," the creature growled. "Or I'll unsheathe my claws the next time."

An odd sound emerged from Lea's mouth. She backed away a bit more, her heart beating fast. Her fingers had somehow moved up to her throat in a protective gesture she was vaguely aware she'd never made before.

"Come back here," Starr ordered her.

"Stay away from me," Lea got out in a choked voice. Her eyes darted about the lab. She needed a weapon. Something sharp, preferably lethal. Her hand fell from her neck to form a fist at her side. "You stay – _away_."

The panther shifted on its heavy haunches. "You look remarkably bloodthirsty, peasant," it remarked, and purred softly, "Come here. I shan't hurt you."

"I said, stay away," Lea repeated, feeling absurd. Her eyes turned to the end of the laboratory – and met smooth wall. She blinked. Where was the white door she'd entered by? Her heartbeat thundered fast and high in her ears. Her vision began to darken. Her eyes widened in helpless mortification; she was going to faint.

Abruptly, her heart's staccato rhythm eased its racing beat. The white door was back, right where it should be, staring lazily at Lea. It had simply melded into its colourless surroundings for an awful moment. Lea breathed out a soft sigh of relief. Her vision cleared. There was only one problem left; she would have to pass the panther to get to it.

Her eyes fell on some slim metal blades sitting side by side near a glass bowl on the table. She edged towards the bowl.

"Stop being so foolish," the panther rumbled now. "Caleb will have a fit if you touch his things. I only want to look at you." It shifted elegantly on its chair. Its long black tail lifted lazily from the floor to encircle the blades Lea was eyeing so grimly, gently drew them to a section of the table somewhere behind where the panther was sitting. Lea could have sworn its sharp teeth flashed in a fierce grin.

"Get it away from me!" she called out to Caleb then, beginning to panic once more. "Tell it to go away!"

"She's not an 'it', you worm," Caleb called back, and Lea flushed.

"Get her away from me," she hissed. "Or I swear I'll tell Gabriel about your little trick to scare me."

"Don't be such a coward," Caleb threw at her, and abruptly looked agitated; he'd noticed her nearing the other corner of the lab table. "Don't touch anything!"

"I'm not touching your precious experiments," Lea said through gritted teeth, and felt a hysterical bubble of laughter building up inside her. She looked around wildly for a knife, a steel rod, _anything_. What manner of laboratory was this? There was not a single metal utensil nearby. Everything remotely lethal was on the table – or more accurately – behind that grinning panther.

"Call it off," she warned Caleb, her voice unsteady now. Her expression turned deadly. "I've had enough of your little jokes, Caleb. I'm warning you, apprentice, your master will hear of this!"

"Oh, come back, Lea. I wouldn't hurt you." The panther's head dipped a bit.

Lea could have sworn the green eyes looking at her were pleased at her distress.

"I don't have all day," the creature remarked.

And when Lea didn't come forward, the panther said silkily, "Or Caleb could _make_ you come to me."

"If ever you wanted me to, Starr."

Caleb looked up from his thickening potion, an unpleasant gleam in his eyes, and Lea stood still immediately, her heart racing. A strange suspicion was growing in her, a suspicion that this place was indeed enchanted. Her fingers clenched into fists. "What manner of world is this?" she whispered.

"You will find out soon enough," Starr said quietly, watching as the auburn haired girl forced herself to come forward until she was standing in front of the panther once more. "Now, let me look at you."

"You're named after your eyes," Lea got out after a moment, staring at the bright emerald orbs and trying not to feel terrified. She didn't succeed.

"I was named after my mother," Starr replied. "And the white markings on my forehead."

She hopped onto the glass table after this bit of information, then dipped her head low so that Lea could see the white bits of fur on her forehead, loosely forming an oval-shaped star. The effect of the white star on black fur was striking. But as entranced as she was, Lea was not foolish enough to touch the creature's sleek head. She did however feel some of her fear ebb away at this unexpected display of courtesy.

Starr lifted her head, green eyes politely enquiring. "How are your wounds? Are the medicines working well? Do you need me to replace your bandages and poultices?"

"Medicines?" Lea paused. Her eyes went large in her face. "Bandages and poultices?"

"Yes, I applied them," the panther nodded. "Do not look so surprised. Healing is my interest. I am Gabriel's apprentice in magic as well, but the magical arts do not come to me as easily as they do to Caleb. I only want to learn one thing in magic well and then I will stop my studies, and perhaps return to my home. But even that one thing eludes me still."

"Oh?" Lea said faintly. "What could that possibly be?"

"To shapeshift," Starr purred, and closed her eyes, her sleek head dipping again.

Lea had the peculiar impression that the panther was imagining success in her chosen goal.

Abruptly, brilliant emerald was looking back at her. "And if you're wondering why I would like to shapeshift, it is so I can appear human," the panther continued. "Have human hands when I want to. Human feet. A human face."

Lea couldn't help wondering, "Why would you want to be human?

"So that I can practice healing more fully," Starr said simply, but there was an odd glint of displeasure in the panther's eyes as she looked at Lea.

The latter stepped back uneasily. "More fully?" Lea repeated.

"With greater success. Caleb has to help me with bandages, you see, and with mixing the ingredients for most poultices."

Caleb looked up at that. "Ah, but that's not the only reason, is it, Starr?"

A deadly snarl ran the length of the laboratory's confines. Starr's gleaming black head whipped around with startling speed. "Don't annoy me, Caleb."

He looked at the panther for a moment, seemed about to say something but must have thought better of it because Caleb abruptly turned back without a word to his now bubbling vial of black liquid. Lea couldn't help thinking that he looked displeased. Or upset. Her attention returned hastily to Starr when the big cat prodded at her shoulder with a heavy, padded paw.

"You had large swathes of bandages on your torso, Lea Tornith. None that came from us. I was concerned that you had injured yourself, but you were not bleeding beneath them, so I left them as they were. I can only guess at the reason for them. They are bindings to hide your form, yes? To aid you in forming the appearance of a boy."

An awkward silence descended on all of them. Lea glanced Caleb's way. He was studiously keeping his eyes on a book laid open on the laboratory table.

Lea flushed slightly, and turned back to Starr. "That's not why I wear the bandages," she said finally. The cat must know this since she had, in fact, changed the bloodied cloth for clean ones. Why was she pretending otherwise? "I wear them for a different reason."

Those green cat's eyes blinked. "Yes?"

"I wasn't only using them to... That is, they were not purely to enhance my appearance as a boy," Lea said finally. Her eyes narrowed. What was the panther playing at? Realisation dawned; the cat was merely ensuring certain matters remained confidential between her and her patient, just like the healers in Lorien would have done. "They were intended to keep clothed an area of skin that is often sensitive to other materials," Lea continued at last. "It turns raw and inflamed very easily if I do not take care to protect it." Her insides tightened, dipped in both fear and anger; somehow, she ensured her face reflected only embarrassment. "It's been clearing up lately, but I do not wish my back to be seen by accident when I have such episodes, so I've taken to bandaging it."

"Of course," Starr purred. "If you would allow me to examine you once more, I could assist in... making the skin clear."

"That's quite all right," Lea said politely, and glanced at Caleb. He had to be a ventriloquist. Hadn't he? Trepidation rose, was ruthlessly cast aside. "As I said, it's been clearing up. Don't wish to trouble you." Before Starr could say anything further, Lea added, "Thank you for caring for my other injuries."

Starr paused, her green eyes travelling over Lea's face for a thoughtful moment. Finally, she said, "You must change the bandages and poultices at the end of the night. I will put the materials in your room for your use. Do not forget to drink the tonic water that Caleb prepared for you." The panther tilted her head. "I can see that your leg is hurting you. If you had drunk more of the tonic, the pain would have left you by now. What is the point in leaving your bed if you merely succumb to your injuries all over again?"

Lea flushed. The panther sounded so much like one of her hated tutors back home. "Oh, well I –"

"Ensure you drink the entire jug by the end of the day," Starr continued, ignoring the now militant gleam in Lea's eye. "And if you see any sign of infection in your injuries, or are unable to complete the application of the poultices, ask for me. I will bring someone with me to help if Caleb does not wish to come. Or you can come here directly. I'm nearly always here."

Starr waited only for Lea's reluctant nod of understanding. Then, with a speed and strength that made Lea start, the panther jumped off the glass table and padded over to the room she'd initially been hidden in. The glass door to the room swung shut. Lea lost sight of the creature completely.

There was a brief silence. And then Lea marched over to where Caleb stood, immersed still in the making of his potion. "You're not a ventriloquist, are you?"

"Has light finally dawned in that thick skull, peasant girl?"

Lea sat down heavily at one end of the laboratory's window seat, her expression wooden. There had always been rumours of strange, unnatural beasts residing in the forest that lined the southern reaches of both Lorien and Makliaven. For the first time, she entertained the possibility that the rumours might have some truth to them. Talking animals...

Such speech was likely a gift of nature though, she rationalised hurriedly, not enchantment. There was really no reason for the panic clawing its way into her insides like this. No reason at all. Unbidden, her thoughts turned to what the bandages around her chest and back really hid. Her eyes closed for a moment. _Michael, you have to find out where I am..._

"I've never understood the Lorien insistence on disbelieving in magic," she heard a familiar voice say, and opened her eyes. Caleb was still busy at the long laboratory table, but she sensed he was for once speaking out of genuine curiosity, not sarcasm. As she looked at him, the apprentice met her gaze with reluctance. "I suppose I cannot fault you for the flaws of your people."

Lea's brows rose sharply. "This place is hidden from Lorien. Since neither my kingdom – nor our neighbour, in fact – have any magic to speak of, is it so unreasonable for my people not to believe in it?" She still didn't, Lea told herself forcefully.

"A flawed argument," Caleb murmured. "But I expected no less."

She stayed silent.

He glanced at her, and something in Lea's expression must have disturbed him, for a flicker of something resembling concern – or guilt – flashed across Caleb's face. He put his vial of dark liquid down carefully in its small stand and walked over to her, sliding comfortably onto the other end of the window-seat, swinging his legs up so that he could sit facing her. "You shouldn't be afraid, you know. Magicians and panthers are no more dangerous than the average cut-throat who wanders the streets of Makliaven." He paused. "Or Lorien."

"Lorien's streets are far safer than Makliaven's," Lea objected absently. In truth, she wasn't so sure anymore, but she would never admit that to anyone else, not even Michael. "And am I truly to believe what you just said?"

"About?"

"Magicians and panthers," she said softly.

"No," Caleb said with uncustomary honesty, and made a face. "No more than I am to believe Lea is really your name at any rate." A pause fell. Then, curiously, "Is it?"

Lea sighed and turned to face him. "It is." She put out a hand. "On my honour."

Caleb shook his head. "I don't shake anyone's hands."

Her hand fell down to her lap. "Oh."

"I accept your words," Caleb said quickly, and frowned. "I just don't shake anyone's hands if I can help it."

Lea pursed her lips as she considered that. "What's the other reason then?" she said finally.

"For what?"

"For the panther wanting to be human."

"Oh. That."

"I think I would rather be a panther," Lea observed. "The freedom and power of that form..." She was abruptly grateful for the training Michael had put her through; it was the only thing standing between her and that sense of cowardly panic that seemed to live and breathe inside her even in such quiet moments as this, like an unrecognisable foreign creature who'd slipped beneath her skin when she wasn't looking. Lea took a breath. "I don't understand why she would want to lose all that to become," she swept a slender hand between her and Caleb, "us."

Caleb looked down for a moment, then said quietly, "Like every other female – and quite a few men – in Verlaine, Starr's in love with Gabriel."

Dark eyes met surprised brown. The apprentice's lips twisted in a grimace. "But my master cannot be with Starr if she is a panther. I have seen Starr's attempts to take on the guise of a human woman."

His words faltered suddenly. He leaned back in his small corner and turned to the side, looking down expressionlessly through the window's stained glass border. "She is just as beautiful and strong in that guise as she is in her natural form. If she can sustain the shapeshift, I believe she will have a chance at attracting my master's attention in the way she wishes. But she hasn't been able to keep her human form, not for more than a few minutes at a time anyway."

"A few minutes hardly seems worth it," Lea said awkwardly. _I can't believe I'm having such a bizarre conversation._

"No?" Caleb shrugged. "Anything more would be an equally worthless cause, an insult to the beauty of the form she already holds, and to the strongest aspects of her nature." His lips thinned. "But she will not be dissuaded from trying. Gabriel is too strong an allure for her to resist."

Lea was unable to help from pulling a face. "There is no question that your master is... interesting, but I cannot pretend to understand Starr's fascination with him." Except of course, Lea thought, and winced inside, she apparently could. Damn it. This was an unforeseen complication she didn't need. "Surely there are other, more suitable, candidates for her affections."

The oddest look crossed Caleb's face. And suddenly, everything became very clear to Lea. Her eyes widened. But before she could offer a soft word of comfort, the apprentice commented matter-of-factly, "There is no one like Gabriel."

Lea's eyes narrowed. "Are you related to him?" she said abruptly.

For a moment she thought he wouldn't answer her, but then Caleb nodded. "Distantly. But I know the resemblance is strong. Others have remarked upon it. His mother is related to mine." He shrugged. "But I am not Amarinth, if that is what you are thinking. The Guardian of Verlaine has always been an Amarinth, for as long as our records have existed."

"I see." She paused, thinking hard. "So Gabriel is this... this Guardian of Verlaine everyone speaks of? Charged with its protection?"

Caleb nodded. "That is so."

"And there is no rank here besides master and apprentice?" Lea looked at him thoughtfully. "I would never have imagined such a system could exist. Surely a kingdom cannot be run in such a haphazard manner."

"Lorien is too full of rules and regulations," was Caleb's reply. "It is not surprising that you can't understand how such systems could be successfully done away with, but we simply do not see the point of such superficialities. Verlaine's ways, the ways of enchantment and magic, make your world's laws seem – redundant."

"Redundant?" Lea repeated.

"Here, we have a more... effective system in place."

"Indeed?"

"Doubt it all you want," Caleb said softly. "But in Verlaine, all answer to Gabriel and him alone, save for the apprentices to their respective masters. And still, their masters answer to Gabriel, so there is no running away from him."

There had been a sudden, purposeful emphasis on the word 'running' and Lea frowned. "So," she said quietly, "Gabriel is like a king and his army and his advisers, all in one?"

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing."

Her smile contained nothing resembling humour. "Isn't it?"

"It is not difficult to handle the administrative tasks alongside the rest. Not for a magician as powerful as he is. And he has able helpers."

_So_ , Lea thought, _there_ are _armies and advisers in this place_.

"Such as myself," Caleb added rather hurriedly. "And Starr and the other apprentices."

Her smile turned absent. Lea leaned her head back against a cool window pane. "Thank you for the clarification. For a moment there, your master was beginning to sound a little like a tyrant."

"Lorien has a king on its throne, doesn't it?"

She stiffened. "That's different."

"Is not the word of your King law in your great kingdom?"

Her lashes veiled her eyes for a brief moment. "Ah," Lea said steadily, and opened her eyes, "but our King is ably aided by the Council of Elders. Their views are important, and generally adhered to, so that the people of Lorien feel ourselves represented in the King's court."

"Why, because the Councillors are 'elders'?" Caleb snorted. "The ways of your kingdom are so primitive. An elder can be as foolish as a babe."

"Or as wise," Lea remarked. "I admit that Gabriel seems rather young to be a dictator, but he fits the profile well enough."

Caleb's brows drew together so sharply, Lea could have sworn they met in the middle of his forehead. "My master is the furthest thing from a despot that you could possibly imagine," the apprentice declared. "You would be wise to remember that, if it were not for him, you'd be dead."

"But it was you who found me," Lea pointed out. She continued evenly, "And I have yet to thank you for your help."

"It was Gabriel who agreed to let you stay in the castle, heal from your injuries," Caleb objected, looking uncomfortable suddenly. "He could have just as easily healed you by magic and sent you outside, back into Makliaven. But healing someone by magic can be dangerous for them, especially if there is a risk of the patient leaving –"

He stopped speaking suddenly, as though remembering he should not be talking about such things with Lea.

Lea crossed her arms across her chest. "You were saying?"

His eyes darted to hers. And then, Caleb leaned back and crossed his own arms casually behind his head. "My master's intentions are noble, peasant girl. You should be grateful to him for helping you, allowing you sanctuary."

"Of course I am grateful," Lea agreed sweetly. She looked down at her hands, at the bracelet on her wrist, and wondered how she would extract an apology from Gabriel Amarinth before the week was over. "He made me wear this, by the way." She held out her hand.

"Yes, I saw it earlier."

"He didn't explain its use to me," Lea said, as casually as she could.

"You know what it is," Caleb replied quietly. "All have to wear a mark of Verlaine so that we know who is under Gabriel's protection, legitimately present in the kingdom. Your bracelet is enchanted with the needs of our guests in mind. It will allow you to find not only me, but Starr and any other of Gabriel's apprentices, should you wish to. And it allows Gabriel to find you, should there be need." He held out his hand. Encircling his wrist was a bracelet similar to the one Lea wore, save that his was of emerald and rubies, and it bore unusual runes not present on her bracelet. "See, even I wear a mark of Verlaine, even if it is different from yours."

Lea nearly snorted aloud. They must think she was a fool to be gulled so easily. Well, let them play their misguided games for now. There was something else she needed to find out, something more important than the matter of wearing her jewelled shackle.

"I suppose your explanation is as good as any other," she told Caleb. "But there was something else that confused me about –"

"Was there?" he murmured, and watched her with a glint in those dark eyes.

"Gabriel told me," Lea said slowly, hoping that she'd somehow misunderstood the man, "that I cannot leave the castle grounds until he is sure I mean no harm to his kingdom."

Caleb nodded at once. " _That_ is a rule that no visitor may break."

"Not even to enter the forest?"

"Not a step outside the grounds is permitted, peasant girl."

She pursed her lips, her eyes thoughtful. "But how can Gabriel ensure the visitors do as he says?" There were no guards patrolling the perimeters of the castle that she could see.

"Oh, he'll know," Caleb said with that sly smile back on his face. "You can believe that Gabriel will be very aware of anyone breaking his rules."

"Yes, but how?" Lea forced out what she hoped was an agreeable smile. "I suppose his guards wear the garb of guests as well," she suggested, and had a sudden memory of the cloaked figure she'd sworn was following her in the lonely corridor earlier, "so that we are not disturbed by their presence. It is thoughtful of your master to consider so completely the comfort of his guests."

"Certainly."

But something in Caleb's face told Lea that her guess had been incorrect. She crossed her arms again. "What about you, and the other apprentices? Do you have your own private guard in the castle as well?"

"I can't understand why matters of security should bother you so greatly," said the apprentice as he sprawled lazily in his corner of the window-seat. "Just be warned that my master does not tolerate a disregard for the laws of our kingdom. Stick to the castle grounds, peasant girl, and you can be assured that you will not be, er, chastised... for any transgression of our kingdom's laws."

Chastised? Lea forced out a laugh. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of earning your master's wrath," she protested. "I'm beginning to think of him as an infallible god emerged whole into this world from the pages of forgotten fables."

Caleb compressed his lips. "No one is infallible," he said quietly. "Which is why security is paramount, even in a kingdom as powerful as ours."

"You amaze me," Lea remarked. "I was beginning to think your master bereft of weaknesses."

"He is, to a point," was Caleb's cool reply.

"How convenient for him," Lea said admiringly. "He must inspire your devotion for that reason alone."

Caleb's hands fell to his lap, tightly clasped together as though he was restraining himself from reaching out to shake her. "For how long is this interrogation going to continue?" he enquired conversationally. "I promise you, we too have nothing to hide. Far less than yourself, I imagine."

There was a sudden speculative gleam in Caleb's eyes. Wisely, Lea changed the subject. "Is Gabriel away from the castle very often?"

The apprentice was quiet for a moment. His expression turned cool, nearing unfriendly, once more. "You are unwise to bait my master," he remarked at last. "Have you no sense of self-preservation inside that foolish head? An attempt at escape will only cost you the very liberty you are so insistent on securing."

Lea made a face, feigning insouciance, but her eyes were grim with purpose when she looked out the window once more. Down below was a circular courtyard that sprawled its way outside her sight of vision. She could see bursts of colour on trellises and tall trees arranged artfully around the quiet, empty space. It looked very lonely down there, just as lonely as she often felt inside even in the company of others, and Lea suppressed a small shiver.

"I believe your master would not mind being baited," she said absently, and turned back to Caleb with a coaxing smile. "He seems assured of his ways, of his abilities to keep his – guests – in line, hmmm?" She tilted her head. "But I'm curious about you and Starr. I've not heard of many nobles taking on apprentices for purposes such as you describe. The arts of –" she almost said 'illusion', and hastily corrected herself, "– magic sound fascinating. Are you his only apprentices?"

Caleb shuddered gently.

Lea sat up at once. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"If you wish to retain your peasant girl image," Caleb said. "I suggest you keep that look off your face in future."

"Oh." She relaxed back in her seat. "What look might that be?"

"The one where your mouth smiles, but your eyes portray that you're planning to kill someone."

A brief, startled silence fell between them. Caleb slid off the window-seat in a smooth movement that had him on his feet and walking back to his laboratory table before Lea could catch her breath.

"You may ask your questions of Starr or Gabriel himself from now on, peasant girl," he threw at her over his shoulder. "Not me."

"You don't have to keep calling me that," Lea couldn't help protesting. It was becoming annoying to be constantly reminded of the non-existent farm she'd invented on the spur of the moment. "I'm more a trader than a peasant girl in any event." And when Caleb merely raised an eloquent brow, his eyes back on his silly vial, Lea hesitated. She got to her feet, slowly made her way to his side. "I do not wish to harm anyone, Caleb. I merely wish to return to Lorien once my injuries are healed. Is that so unreasonable? To want to return to my home?"

"If I didn't know better," Caleb said without looking at her "I'd think you were about to try and convince me to help you."

Lea couldn't stop a wry smile from forming. "I certainly wouldn't stop you if you wanted to help me."

"To answer your earlier question," Caleb said after a moment, "both Starr and I were born and bred in Verlaine. We may not be heirs in the Amarinth line, but Gabriel is family to us, to all of us. Our loyalty is to him and him alone. And as my master will not be pleased if you continue to defy him, or the laws of our kingdom," he shot her a glance full of warning, "neither will I, or Starr."

"Spoken like a true, loyal little apprentice," Lea returned, her eyes very bright. It seemed her opportunity to gain information here had been wasted. Caleb wore the look of one about to launch into a long, stern lecture on the merits of obedience to Gabriel Amarinth and his arbitrary rules. Lea cut him off before he could say any more. "All right then, let's see something."

"What?" He finally looked up.

"Some magic," she prompted, and hid a smile when his dark eyes narrowed in irritation.

"I'm not a performing monkey," Caleb bit off.

"I didn't say you were," Lea pointed out. "Now, show me something that will convince me of what you say. Shapeshift into a panther. Or perhaps you could float up near the ceiling? I'd love to see you float. Can you?"

"You're beginning to annoy me again," he growled out. "Go away, peasant girl."

"Oh, come now, I'm only –"

Caleb turned back to his work without a word.

"Oh, all right then." Sudden amusement bubbled up within her. The sensation brightened Lea's mood considerably. She was certain she could befriend Caleb in time, if not his four-legged fellow apprentice. Surely that would make things easier when the time came to try for an escape.

"How do I get back to my room?" she said finally, wishing she were not feeling quite so exhausted. All her energy of moments ago seemed to have dissipated, leaving her achy and tired all over again.

Her weariness must have made its way into her voice, for Caleb advised her quietly, "You need more of your tonic. If you want to get back to your room quickly, just think of it when you open the door and you'll be there. Unless, of course," and a grin visited his face with lightning quickness, "you've annoyed the castle as well."

Uncertain that she wanted to know what that cryptic comment meant, Lea decided to give Caleb's absurd suggestion a try, if only to get deeper into his good graces. She walked to the white door she'd entered the laboratory from, was careful to think of her yellow and gold bedroom when she twisted the knob, and pushed the door open.

A long, dreary corridor met her sight.

Lea sighed softly, twisting back to look over her shoulder. Caleb was absorbed once more in whatever it was that he was doing. He seemed to have forgotten that he was expected elsewhere, or that Lea was still standing inside the laboratory, looking at him.

With a grimace, she poked her head out of the doorway, turned this way and that to check if anyone cloaked and hooded waited for her to emerge from the laboratory; she was alone.

Reluctantly, Lea walked out into the empty corridor, shutting the tall ivory door softly behind her. She would have to find her way back to her room from here it seemed. At least she wouldn't make the mistake of going through that red door to the cellars like she'd almost done the last time.

Absently, Lea glanced to her right. Dark grey walls met her sight; not a single crimson door lay waiting for her at the end of this particular, _not_ panelled, corridor.
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Chapter 12

Lea left the new, unknown corridor feeling more afraid than before. How could the laboratory door open into two different places?

"Of course," she muttered as she turned a corner. "I must have left by a different door from the first."

That was the only explanation she could think of. Whether or not it was the right explanation, it soon turned out that Lea was back in her wing of the castle. She limped with difficulty into her amber and gold room, and fell straight into her bed. Her exhaustion had taken its toll. For the first time in a long time, Lea slept the sleep of the dead, ignoring even the tempting tray of deserts that had been set by her bedside for dinner as she let unconsciousness claim her senses so that she would forget the strange events this very strange day had brought her.

The dusky pinks of twilight had long disappeared when Lea woke up. She'd slept right through the night, blinked dazedly at the strong sunlight pouring once again into her room. The sun was high in the sky this morning, burning bright and giving Lea a touch of hope that had been absent the day before. She found her body ached far less than it had, her nerves steady as she got out of bed, less tired and just a bit less afraid.

Her eyes turned grudgingly to the jug of tonic water by her bed. Someone had replaced yesterday's jug with a new, completely full one. She suddenly remembered what Gabriel had said when they'd last met. "Did he come to see me then, yesterday evening?"

Lea found herself glancing warily at her door as she downed two glasses of the tonic in quick succession. It was troubling this, not having the ability to keep anyone from walking in should they wish to.

With a sigh, she walked over to look out the window at the castle's gardens – busy once more – and decided that today, she must go somewhere she wouldn't run into either Gabriel or his apprentices.

It wasn't long before Lea was making her way down curling flights of stairs, down and down until she could glimpse cobbled ground right outside the windows. Now, if only she could somehow stumble upon the circular inner courtyard that she'd seen from Caleb's laboratory...

Carefully, Lea traversed the castle's corridors once more. Once or twice, she thought she saw a familiar mysterious figure shadowing her steps, but whenever she whipped around, no one was in sight; she was forced to shrug careless shoulders and walk on. Let Gabriel station guards to watch her. She'd lost his spy the last time, and she hadn't even been trying then. She could lose this one too if she needed to.

"Come on, where are you?" she muttered, hand trailing down a smooth balustrade that led off from a busy junction in the castle corridors to an unexpectedly elevated hall. "Not here."

It must have been past noon when, just as Lea was despairing of ever stumbling upon that quiet courtyard, she limped around a corner – and found herself standing beneath a stone archway; spread out before her was a carpet of cracked, moss-covered brick slabs, all shining a golden-grey under the shadowed sunlight. She was in the centre of Gabriel's grey castle.

Lea took a breath, relief flashing through her eyes. The courtyard was just as she'd thought it would be, cosy and quiet, its walls covered in green ivy and tiny purple flowers. Slim trellises hung high at the other end of the courtyard, marking its exit to the sprawling gardens outside, and a soft, warm breeze caressed Lea's cheeks, bringing with it the scent of honey and wildflowers. Her eyes filled with the sight of the courtyard's tall, emerald-crowned trees planted at its centre and sides, majestic and calm and quite lovely as the wind whispered past them so that their delicate leaves trembled their welcome. It felt like she'd come home.

For the barest moment, Lea let herself forget that this was a strange, foreign castle from which she wished to escape. She took a step forward, her face breaking into a wide smile. The smile died a quick death.

_This_ , she could not have foreseen.

The courtyard wasn't empty today. A rather diminutive young noblewoman strolled its cobbled pavements with dainty – and bored – little footsteps. Three quiet handmaidens stayed two careful steps behind her at all times. The noblewoman's brown hair was piled in smooth, braided coils atop her heart-shaped face, one long braid left to hang down over a slender left shoulder before dropping in a heavy fall of brown to her slim waist. Her long dark blue gown was generously bell-sleeved, its satin length slinking down her small frame like a fitted, second skin and its' intricately embroidered edges brushed the courtyard's stone floor as the woman promenaded lightly along its curving paths. Traces of dirt and dampness stained the gown's bright blue edges, turning its hem a dull and dirty shade of puce.

It must have been the awareness of her beautiful gown's sorry state that made the noblewoman's face scrunch up in a petulant frown, Lea guessed. And indeed, if the noblewoman looked up, Lea would have known also that her eyes would be a smoky dark blue, large and rather empty of intelligence in that heart-shaped girlish face.

Luckily for Lea, the noblewoman's large eyes stayed fixed on the ground as she walked; it was the only reason she hadn't yet noticed Lea as the latter stood frozen just inside the courtyard's paved entrance.

Very, very carefully, ensuring she made not a sound, Lea tiptoed back into the castle. She came to a shaken stop in a shadowed corner by the arched stone entryway and pressed back against the castle wall. She took in a very slow breath. What on earth was Cecily Rose Fortuna doing here?

Carefully, Lea snuck a glance outside. Her expression hardened. Her fingers formed fists before she could help herself. Thoughts of Gabriel, his apprentices and Lea's aching leg went out the window, faded into obscurity as she watched that familiar face scowl at her tired serving maids behind her.

"Cecily Rose Fortuna," Lea said through her teeth. _Countess_ Cecily Rose. It seemed Lea's bad luck would never end. Cecily might be a lesser noble by Lorien standards – the spoilt older daughter of an obscure Lorien noble and the wife of a commoner – but her wealth and her father's connections had long secured her a place at court; there was a very real chance she would recognise Lea for who – and what – she really was.

Lea dared another quick glance outside. The courtyard was still empty save for Cecily and her poor handmaidens, the latter three now receiving a tongue lashing they'd no doubt not deserved, for a crime they hadn't committed. Cecily's voice trilled out ferociously into the afternoon quiet. Lea marvelled at its volume. She sounded just as robust as any fishwife selling her wares at a Lorien marketplace.

Not that anyone in Lorien would ever think such a thing of Cecily Rose, Lea acknowledged; the girl's stupid, empty blue eyes easily bewitched such thoughts right out of people's heads.

Lea bit her lip. "She might not recognise me," she thought aloud. "We haven't met each other in – Well, and even so, we've never been part of the same circle."

But what if she did? "I'll have to hide until she leaves the courtyard." But how would that help? It wouldn't ensure she didn't bump into her again at a more inconvenient time. Lea stilled. "I can't risk it. Gabriel isn't a fool. If she recognises me, he'd know."

Lea could just imagine Gabriel's sharp eyes watching her every reaction should he be present when Lea and Cecily next met. The thought made her shudder. She would have to confront Cecily now, before Gabriel had the chance to see them together.

And if Cecily did know who she was, Lea thought, she would impress upon the stupid creature right here and now the need for absolute secrecy on her part – or else.

A sudden, wicked smile came to Lea's lips. "She would not dare disobey me. She's always been a little coward from what I remember. A spoilt little coward whose only means of defence is to bat her eyelids and pout her pink lips and widen those vacuous eyes to get what she wants. If she remembers me, encouraging her to forget shouldn't be hard." Lea's expression turned rather bright at the thought. This just might prove diverting.

With a small grin fixed on her face, Lea straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath and stepped out into the courtyard once more. Cecily didn't so much as glance her way. The tiny countess was too intent on berating her servants to pay attention to the limping youth approaching her very slowly.

But one of her servants, a young girl not much older than a child really, with large violet eyes and a calm demeanour, must have spied Lea's entrance, because her eyes went just a bit larger – whether in surprise or curiosity, Lea couldn't tell.

Lea turned to stone. She swore beneath her breath, heart sinking. Lorien servants were extremely well-trained. Even if Cecily didn't recognise her, these other three women might. It would be best to just leave now, remain in her rooms until they left Verlaine rather than risk being discovered.

But just as Lea turned to leave, someone interrupted the countess's diatribe.

"Hello," a little voice piped up. It was a melodious voice, soft and sweet, but somehow it cut right through Cecily's shrill tones. "Why are you shouting?"

Silence fell in the courtyard. Everyone turned to stare at the small child standing beneath an archway separating the inner courtyard from its outer reaches flanking the castle's gardens. The child could not have been more than six or seven, and for a moment, Lea could hardly believe that that strikingly clear voice had emerged from such a small person.

Cecily stared at the child as if she'd been slapped. Her pretty face worked, lips pursing. Finally, she sniffed in displeasure. "I was not shouting." She looked the child up and down as though it could not possibly have been addressing her at all. "I never raise my voice."

"You were shouting just now, miss," the child said politely. She was really a rather pretty little girl, with slanting dark eyes and short, wavy black hair. Her olive skin was beautifully unblemished and she wore a peculiar kind of dress, one Lea had never seen before, sleeveless and short and covered in an array of delicately beaded flowers. Her small feet were bare, but quite unblemished as well for all that she must have just walked across dirty cobblestones to get here. A familiar silver bracelet winked at her wrist. "We wished to ask you not to speak so loudly," the child continued, her eyes steady on Cecily. "It is interrupting our game. Your voice is very loud."

Lea had the oddest urge to laugh. She satisfied herself with a wide grin, watched with interest as Cecily's face scrunched up in a kind of perplexed anger.

"My voice is not loud," the countess exclaimed, and put her hands on her hips with rather less daintiness than usual. "Come here, you," she commanded the child.

The girl stepped forward obligingly, coming to a stop just before Cecily. "Yes, miss?"

"Stupid child," Cecily informed her, and rolled her eyes. "I am not a 'miss'. You will address me as 'Countess' from now on. And you will _immediately_ fetch me your parents so that I may inform them of your lack of courtesy."

"But you were shouting, miss," the child said politely. "And there is no rank in Verlaine except that belonging to Gabriel Amarinth, so I am afraid I cannot call you 'Countess'. Miss. You should apologise for the lack of courtesy you have shown me, and for your appalling lack of knowledge. Miss."

Cecily gasped. Her features worked once more as she tried to think of something to say, but for once she seemed stunned into speechlessness.

If Lea was honest, so was she. This child seemed far too articulate and confident. Her gaze on the small girl sharpened. She had the oddest impression that this strange child was not really as young as she looked. Lea shook her head, frowned as she dismissed that odd thought.

"You cannot speak to me like that," Cecily said at last.

"Why not?"

"I... Well..." The countess's slender hands waved weakly in the air. Her blue eyes narrowed as she tried to think of something to say. "Because I said so."

"That is not a reason."

Some of the child's expression must have conveyed the mockery absent in her voice because Cecily drew herself up to her full height – which was not much – and declared, "You will apologise for that insult!"

To Lea's amusement, the countess promptly stamped a dainty foot on the hard brick of the courtyard, just once. No doubt for emphasis, Lea guessed. She was beginning to understand just why so much of Lorien nobility found it necessary to invite Cecily Rose to their various parties: it wasn't just because of those large blue eyes; the countess was _funny_. Albeit unintentionally.

"Apologise," Cecily was repeating now, her eyes narrow slits in her delicate face as she tried to stare down the small girl before her. The countess' maids exchanged resigned glances. "I demand that you apologise at _once_."

"No," the child said. "I will not." Those small hands drew together in a light clasp at her front, and the child rocked gently, back and forth, back and forth, on her bare feet. "But _you_ should apologise for having such a bad temper to go with your not-very-pretty face."

Lea's hand went to her mouth, her brown eyes dancing.

Cecily's mouth had made an open 'O' in her small face. Her eyes were larger than ever. Her handmaidens backed away very silently, their eyes on their mistress.

Suddenly, Cecily's startled blue gaze narrowed. "My face is beautiful," Cecily said finally. She sounded confused.

"No, it's not."

_"Everyone_ says so," Cecily declared, and took in a breath. "Not that I would expect such a plain little girl to understand what true beauty is."

Lea caught her breath. She'd suspected it, but she'd never really known Cecily could be this mean-spirited when no one was watching. Lea opened her mouth to demand an apology on the child's behalf, but the small girl beat her to it.

That head with its shock of black hair tilted gently to the right. An oddly cunning expression alighted on the child's piquant face. "I don't believe everyone tells you that."

"Well, they do," Cecily snapped and drew her skirts up as she turned away from the girl, nose in the air. "Anne, I have a headache."

"Yes, my lady." The violet-eyed handmaiden stepped forward at once.

"I wish this creature to be gone." Cecily waved a weak hand at the child still standing there, watching her. "Tell it to leave, Anne."

"You are very beautiful," the child said suddenly.

Cecily lazy attitude left her immediately. She turned back to the girl with a small, pleased little smile on her lips, and lifted her face a little to the side so that the light would touch it _just_ so. "Of course I am. I am one of the most beautiful women in Lorien. I knew you would realise your mistake."

"I meant the other," the small girl said after a moment, and pointed at an aghast Anne. "With the violet eyes. She is very beautiful."

Lea's lips twitched. Why were the children in Lorien not more like this child? Without a word, she leaned comfortably against an ivy-covered wall and crossed her hands at her chest. Her earlier intentions were forgotten. This was getting too interesting for her to walk away so soon.

Cecily abruptly grabbed the child by the shoulders and shook her.

Lea's indolent attitude left her at once. "Let her go," she called out sharply, and began to limp forward, cursing her injured leg more than ever. "Let her go, Cecily! I mean it!"

The countess didn't seem to hear her. Or maybe she _couldn't_ hear Lea when in the grip of such fury. She was yelling at the small girl now as she shook her, something about 'beautiful roses' and 'white as cream' and 'little beast' all strung up together in incoherent little exclamations.

Suddenly, the child let out a shrill, grating cry: " _You do not deserve his protection._ "

Lea clapped her hands instinctively over her ears even as Cecily let the girl go, a startled expression stamped on the countess's face. As everyone watched, the child's pudgy fist made a grab for the silver bracelet at Cecily's wrist, caught it in nimble fingers. She gave a hard tug.

For a moment, everyone froze. It seemed for a split second as though the links on the silver bracelet were stretched beyond endurance, stood close to breaking point. Cecily gasped, but the chain held. The countess went a funny shade of pink.

"How dare you?" she hissed at the child, and slapped the little girl hard across her face.

An ominous silence descended on the courtyard. Lea went quite white with anger. Cecily turned white too, but her eyes showed fear rather than anger, and perhaps the barest trace of guilt. Quietly, she let go of the now still child. The girl was staring at her very quietly with those dark eyes, small hands tapping lightly at her sides.

Cecily took a step back. Her ordinarily creamy complexion was ashen.

"You shouldn't have tried to take my bracelet," she said weakly. "That was a very bad thing you did."

Lea let out a small hiss of fury. The countess's pride couldn't even stomach an apology to a _child_? Her fingers itched to avenge Cecily's assault but she daren't move forward right now; the memory of her earlier plan beat at her with wild wings – she shouldn't be here.

As Lea stayed frozen by the courtyard wall, Cecily backed away another step from the little girl. "Don't look at me like that," she said, and shuddered. "It's not my fault. I... I was only protecting myself."

The girl was indeed looking at Cecily with the oddest expression on her face. And then she smiled – and for a shocking moment, Lea could have sworn her eyes glinted obsidian and silver at the woman who'd struck her.

"You should not have done that," someone remarked.

Lea looked up in surprise. A small group of children – the ones whose game must have been interrupted by Cecily's voice earlier – stood in the archway the first child had so recently vacated. Their attire was much like hers, their feet bare also on the warm stone ground. And their expressions, like hers, were a mixture of fierce anger and feral malice.

A small chill ran up Lea's spine. She'd seen expressions just like that very recently.

Without a word then, Lea instinctively held herself still, watched with widening eyes as the children crowded into the courtyard, running up to join their recently assaulted companion. They looked at the small girl expectantly. The girl didn't say anything aloud, but her expression must have said a lot, as must have the small red bruise on her left cheek, because the children abruptly turned very quiet indeed.

They turned to stare at the countess, then ran at her with shocking speed, forming a circle around a now scared Cecily before Lea could blink. Lea and Cecily's three servants were steadfastly ignored in this new game. The children smiled suddenly; the ring around Cecily closed by an inch.

"What are you doing?" Cecily got out. Her voice was haughty, but Lea could see the very real fear in the young countess's eyes. She obviously didn't know how to deal with this many children, especially not when they looked so fierce and quiet as these did, circling her like birds of prey.

"Just apologise, you fool," Lea murmured, her eyes fixed on the frightened countess. "They're just children."

Almost as though her words were a signal the children had been waiting for – though of course they couldn't possibly have heard Lea's voice from so many feet away – the children sprang forward in a savage little heap that almost drove Cecily to her knees. The small countess stumbled, staggered, somehow stood her ground, but then cried out in fear. The children were acting in vicious concert, one tearing at Cecily's skirt, another at her bodice, a third at her beautiful bell sleeves, circling her with high little laughs and running jumps so that she couldn't escape their fast hands and loud squeals of enjoyment as they tormented her.

"Stop it," Cecily cried out. "Stop this at once, you – you beasts!"

But they didn't, and when Cecily called for her maids to help her, three of the children immediately ran to the women, holding them back while the maids struggled to get free.

Lea went rigid, her eyes dark with puzzlement, and then apprehension. How could the children be so strong? Even the youngest maid looked taller and stronger than the oldest of the children. And yet, they held Cecily's handmaidens back with ease while their small companions continued to dart little forays of savage pinches and grabs at a now crying Cecily.

With shocking speed, her beautiful gown was torn and tattered, one bell sleeve hanging forlornly off a rather emaciated shoulder. Cecily shrieked when two of the children took turns stomping on her daintily shod feet with hard, dancing little steps. The ribbons woven into the back of the countess's gown were torn out with shocking strength, left to fall in forlorn strips of blue on the cracked courtyard floor. Cecily let out a loud wail when her expensive necklace was torn from her throat, the glittering gemstones falling like little broken stars onto burnished beige brick.

Despite herself, something in Lea responded to that keening sound of loss. She stirred from her place by her wall.

If you help her, she might recognise you. One of the maids might recognise you. Don't get involved.

Lea's expression flinted. Without a word, she leant back against the courtyard's ivy-covered wall, unaware just how hard and bright her eyes were, how grim the thin line of her lips in her pale face as she held herself so stiff and still.

Abruptly, Cecily sprawled in a messy heap on the courtyard's brick floor, and burst into huge sobs. All that was left of her beautiful gown was stained with brown dirt and – Lea started in sudden surprise – a touch of telling crimson. Small red scratches appeared on her face and throat – the children's slaps were using more nail than hand, Lea realised in horror – so that Cecily was forced to lift skinny arms to shield herself from their attack.

Lea's heart beat fast. Her fingers clenched very tightly. She couldn't just stand here, watching this. She had to stop this. She _had_ to stop this.

But it wasn't Lea who came to Cecily's aid. Suddenly, one of the countess's three maids, the pretty one named Anne, broke away from the children restraining her and dashed forward. The maid bent her slender body over her mistress's, shielding Cecily as best she could from the children's laughing onslaught, quietly enduring their taunting pinches and slaps herself.

Lea's breath caught. This had gone far enough. She started forward, only to freeze in place as a tall, cloaked figure strode by her.
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Chapter 13

Gabriel's expression was set in stone, his stride clipped as he visibly held his temper in check. That brisk, quick stride bespoke his anger far more clearly than words ever could. As he neared the small group at the centre of the courtyard, he clapped his hands once, very loudly. The children fell back without a sound. Their innocent faces turned equal parts mutinous and fearful. Cecily lay sobbing quietly in her maid's arms.

For an awful moment, the only sound that echoed through the courtyard was that terrified weeping. Gabriel's dark cloak fell around him with a flourish as he came to a stop before the small group standing so still in the courtyard centre. He was wearing dark blue today, Lea noticed absently, with his shirt sporting its customary billowing sleeves at the wrists, his fitted dark trousers ending smoothly in dark black boots. A lock of black hair fell over his forehead, was carelessly swept away with elegant fingers. His lips were set in a thin, straight line. His ruby ring seemed to glint his anger as he stood before them.

Without a word, Gabriel's eyes travelled to meet the gaze of every person in the courtyard. All eyes fell from his, even Lea's. She'd forgotten how stern this man could look, how forbidding. And how perceptive. As she looked away, she could feel a faint flush of shame stealing up her neck. There had been condemnation in Gabriel's face when he'd looked at her.

"Who started this?" Gabriel said suddenly, and his low, deep voice seemed to carry through the entire courtyard, wrapping itself around each person present with a kind of awful finality. Lea found herself trembling slightly, kept her mouth shut with a will of iron. She glanced up to find Gabriel's eyes narrowed on hers.

Abruptly, he turned away from Lea and bent his regard on the group of children fidgeting behind him.

Lea watched as the children glanced at each other, then back up at Gabriel. They didn't say a word, small hands all clasped in identical, polite positions before them.

Down swooped that brilliant blue gaze on the two frightened handmaidens standing still by the corner. "Well, have you nothing to say?"

Cecily's maids looked at their mistress and then at the children, and then at their mistress again. They shook their heads as one.

But the countess had finally stopped crying, and as Lea watched her, she saw the speculative look that Cecily shot the children. Loudly, the countess announced, "It was Anne."

Gabriel turned to Cecily very slowly. "Anne?" he repeated, and his voice was very polite.

"Yes, my maid." Cecily indicated the young girl who'd rushed to her rescue and who was now sitting very still by her mistress's side, large violet eyes focused on the stone floor of the courtyard, her hands and arms bloody from the scratches she'd deflected. "This is her."

Lea's heart nearly stopped in shock. "Why, you little –"

"Be quiet," Gabriel threw at her over his shoulder. His voice was like a whip and Lea shut her mouth almost involuntarily, startled at his sudden harshness.

The magician smiled at Cecily. It was not a nice smile. The countess actually shrank back under the undisguised anger in his face. Gabriel's gaze turned to Anne's bent head, dwelt there for a moment. His smile softened imperceptibly. "Yes, I know Anne. What exactly did she do to cause this ill-considered brush with violence in my home?"

The words 'my home' were said in soft, dangerous accents. Lea watched with grim pleasure as the countess visibly trembled, took a moment to gather her composure before saying hesitantly, "The children... They were playing outside but – Anne was being – she was being noisy, arguing with me about something – She hadn't – she hadn't done some work that I..." The countess paused, her eyes falling from Gabriel's. "Anyway," Cecily continued in a whisper, "one of the children asked her if she could lower her voice and Anne – Anne _unforgivably_ took offence at the poor child's words, and – and slapped her."

A short silence fell. Lea found herself holding her breath. There was no way Gabriel would believe any of this. The man was looking down at the countess without expression. "Are you certain this is what happened?" Gabriel said at last.

His voice sounded far too gentle. Lea's gaze slid to his. Her eyes narrowed.

"Yes, my lord," Cecily said in a hushed tone. Her blue eyes turned larger than ever in her delicate face, glistened with tears. "I – You must excuse my – I am not – not myself," she choked out on a little sob. Rosebud lips trembled. "I am utterly undone by the reprehensible behaviour of these awf – the children. They simply attacked me, my lord, when it was Anne who should have borne their – their violent assault. But I can forgive their vicious behaviour in the circumstance. For Anne to have struck the girl so..." She took a deep breath, looking up at Gabriel with such a vulnerable expression that Lea felt like gagging. "It was not to be borne. When I tried to protect her, I'm afraid I got in their way."

Her eyes flew to the girl she'd initially slapped. Quietly and very clearly, she said, "I will vouch for all the children, my lord. They were merely defending their companion from my maid's vicious ways."

Lea could hardly believe her ears. Or her eyes. Did Cecily really believe she could cut a deal with the children right under Gabriel's nose and he not notice?

"I am sorry that you suffered such a terrible experience," Gabriel said, still in that surprisingly gentle voice. "Come, my dear, dry your tears."

Lea's mouth fell open. She watched silently as Gabriel produced a dark red handkerchief from an inner pocket and handed it sympathetically to the countess. Cecily smiled at once, a trifle unsteadily, and wiped her tear-stained face. "Thank you, my lord. You are too – too kind," she hiccupped. "I apologise for causing you such – trouble."

"It is no trouble," he assured her softly, and smiled down at Cecily.

It was too much. "My lord," Lea exclaimed. "Surely you cannot believe –"

"I told you to be quiet, Lea Tornith," Gabriel said very softly, without turning to her.

She bit her lip, and felt silent once more, fingers clasped tightly before her.

Gabriel shifted his gaze to the accused maid. "Anne, do you have anything to say?"

Cecily's head darted to Anne and then back to Gabriel in bewilderment. "Oh, Anne is merely a servant, my lord! Surely you would not need her to –"

"You are _all_ my guests, Cecily." Gabriel smiled gently at the countess. "I understand that this is something that is unusual in your kingdom, but Anne's version of events is something I would like to hear. I'm certain that you too would want to hear what the poor girl has to say to explain her actions? That would be only fair, do you not think so, my dear?"

Cecily swallowed whatever she was going to say, stammered instead, "Why... of...of course, my lord. Whatever you wish." She turned away, forgetting to hide the small frown that marred her smooth forehead.

Lea couldn't stop a small grin from rising to her lips.

"Well, Anne," Gabriel prompted again. "Have you nothing to say?"

There was a heartbeat of quiet, and then the serving girl raised her head, her eyes respectfully trained somewhere behind Gabriel's shoulder instead of directly at him. "No, my lord," she said simply. "I do not have anything to say."

Lea sucked in a breath. It crossed her mind that she had never seen anything so beautiful as the sight of the serving girl's bruised and scratched face, with her steady voice ringing through the courtyard and clear violet eyes filled with such pride and courage as she bore the brunt of her mistress's cowardly behaviour out of sheer loyalty.

_Misplaced loyalty_ , Lea thought in disgust. _What can she be thinking to protect that coward so?_

"I – see," Lea heard Gabriel say then. The habitual phrase sounded unusually thoughtful this time. He turned to the two maids standing well to the side in the hope they wouldn't be noticed. "Very well then. Kindly escort Cecily back to her room," he directed them. "I believe she will need her rest after this afternoon's little debacle. As will you both." He smiled at the two maids, who quickly hurried forward to see to their mistress. Gabriel's expression turned just that bit more tender when he turned back to Cecily. "I will visit you soon to see that you are well, my dear. Kindly do not stir from your room until I see you. I do not want you to tire yourself after this afternoon's events."

"Oh, thank you, my lord." Down fluttered those long, thick lashes. A pretty blush rose to Cecily's bruised cheeks. She lifted the tips of her fingers up to Gabriel so that he could help her to her feet, and looked up at him with wide, grateful eyes. "I cannot tell you how thankful I am for your – for your kindness, my lord, or that you happened upon us this afternoon."

"Entirely my pleasure, my lady," Gabriel murmured, and touched his lips to those dainty fingers he still held in his hand.

The slow burn of anger inside Lea rushed somewhere beyond fury. "You cannot _possibly_ be taken in by her pretty face," she said loudly. "She's lying through her teeth, my lord!"

The countess stiffened, turned to see who had spoken, her two maids following suit; Anne kept her eyes on the ground. For an awful moment, Lea felt the blood freeze in her veins. How could she have forgotten?

To Lea's surprise however, Cecily merely stared at her in annoyance. Her maids whispered something to each other, but no recognition was evident in their expressions. Lea's racing heart slowed. They didn't know who she was.

Cecily looked Lea up and down coolly, much as she had the little girl earlier, then turned to Gabriel with a small sniff. "I do not know who this servant thinks she is, my lord," she said, "but I do not appreciate being called a liar. Not after all I have suffered."

Lea's mouth fell open. She forced herself to shut it without a sound. Just because they hadn't recognised her yet, it didn't mean they would continue not to.

"Sheltering Anne," Cecily continued, "when those – those children attacked her. Protecting a _servant_ the way I did." Cecily shuddered. "No Fortuna has ever been treated thus. I doubt I will ever recover from the events of this day."

All thought of discovery fled. "You – you _coward_ –"

"I will send food and drink to your rooms," Gabriel told the countess, ignoring Lea completely. "You must rest now, my dear."

"My lord, are you listening to me?" Lea's eyes shone dangerously. "I saw the whole thing. Anne was not at fault." Lea vaguely realised that she was shouting her indignation but couldn't stop herself. Her entire being protested at the solicitous way in which Gabriel was leading a now simpering Cecily away while Anne rose quietly, unassisted and staggering, to her own feet. The handmaiden's bruised hands remained courteously by her sides even though Lea simply _knew_ the young serving girl was aching to bring her fingers up to soothe her bruised lip and bloodied cheek.

"Anne was trying to protect Cecily," Lea hissed through her teeth as Gabriel continued to walk the countess away, murmuring soft words of comfort the entire time. "Not the other way around. And if you can't see that, you are the most _fooli_ –"

"Do keep yourself warm," Gabriel told Cecily, as though Lea hadn't spoken. "It would not do for you to fall ill after what happened."

Lea swore beneath her breath, watched as Gabriel left Cecily at the courtyard exit, lifting her hand to his lips once more. The countess retrieved her small hand with an entirely coquettish smile, stepped away gracefully, then seemed to remember just how injured she was supposed to be – she paused, waved her two servants forward and limped away with their able assistance.

Gabriel walked back unsmilingly to the remaining occupants in the courtyard.

"This isn't right, my lord," Lea said in a hard little voice. He hadn't even asked the children what had happened. They were still standing there, quiet and unmoving. "So much for the lack of rank in this place," she said, scorn in her voice. "Nobility calls to nobility, I see. Or I should say, a pretty face makes up for lack of character. Well, I will not simply stand by while you and the countess –"

"I told you to be _quiet_ ," Gabriel said very grimly. "I will not ask you again. Do you understand me?

The force of his anger was palpable. "I... Well, I..." Lea stammered, disoriented by this sudden change of tone – he had been so gentle with Cecily a moment before. She found she couldn't keep her gaze on him for long, looked down in confusion. "Yes, my lord."

"Good. I will deal with you in a moment."

And while Lea looked up at him with a startled expression on her face, Gabriel turned from her without ceremony to the children waiting patiently on his other side.

"A visit will be paid to your guardians very shortly," Gabriel informed the group. All seven of them went white. Lea could practically smell their fear. To her surprise, that was all Gabriel had to say to them. She watched as the small group walked away, hushed and quiet, and abruptly quelled a shiver of apprehension. What had he meant, _deal_ with her?

"And now..."

Lea froze, half expecting that blue gaze to be turned on her, and watched with relief when it was turned on Anne instead.

"As for you, my dear," Gabriel began sternly, watching as the young handmaiden turned her bruised face to his with that admirable calm, her eyes facing down respectfully. "As for you," Gabriel repeated, and suddenly he smiled. "I believe you are in need of a healer's assistance."

Lea looked up in surprise. She watched as Anne's gaze darted to Gabriel's face uncertainly, then darted away again.

"You have nothing to fear from me. Give me your hands, my dear," Gabriel said gently. And when the girl held out her hands with some hesitancy, he took the bloodied limbs in his, cosily sandwiched between his two warm, clean palms.

A puzzled light came to Lea's eyes. She looked at Gabriel sharply, and then at the maid.

Anne's face wore the oddest expression, half confused, half afraid. Suddenly, she looked up at Gabriel, face paling, and said, "My lord, what is – what is happening?"

Lea straightened at once, tried to get a peek at where Gabriel held the maid's hands, but couldn't make out anything odd. Why had Anne sounded so frightened? What was he doing?

"You have nothing to fear," Gabriel said softly. "Just a moment more." And then, still holding the maid's hands firmly between his own, Gabriel said, "Anne Truin, it is my pleasure to invite you to stay in Verlaine permanently, as a free citizen with your own trade, if you should wish it."

Lea went utterly still. Her eyes dwelt on Gabriel's profile, then flew to Anne's face.

The maid's aspect, initially expressionless, seemed to twitch. Her eyes met Gabriel's directly for the first time, doubt and hope warring within them. Leaves swirled around the courtyard, blown by a mischievous wind as maid and magi faced each other.

And then, bewilderment, and a kind of wary disbelief flashed across Anne's face. "I – I do not understand, my lord." She looked down at her hands between his. Her face became afraid once more. "I don't understand."

"I wish for you to remain in Verlaine," Gabriel said simply. "You will be a free citizen with your own trade, should you decide to accept my invitation."

A smile suddenly came to Anne's lips. Her violet eyes shone with tears – of joy. "My lord, I –"

Lea watched in silence as the maid retrieved her hands, looking down at them with something akin to awe in her face. And then, she nodded very quickly. "Gladly, my lord. Gladly."

Lea's breath caught. What had just happened? How could the girl have accepted his offer so easily? Her teeth snapped together very sharply. Somehow, Lea held her tongue, far too afraid of what she might say if she opened her mouth and – yes – just a bit afraid of what Gabriel might do if she disobeyed him again by speaking out of turn.

"Return to your room, my dear. Caleb and I will escort you to your new home by the time the day is done."

"Thank you," Anne said, and this time the tears fell freely. "I – Thank you, my lord." Quickly, she turned around and walked away.

For an odd moment, Lea could have sworn the girl's hands were free of blood or scratches as they swung freely by her sides. And then, those smooth and unblemished hands faded from view, clasped securely before her as the maid left the courtyard. Lea's brows knitted in confusion.

And then, from just behind her, "Well, Lea?"

She blinked, was suddenly conscious of being left quite alone with Gabriel Amarinth under the shelter of the warm afternoon sun. She didn't trust herself to turn around and look at him. Not right now.

"It is your turn to speak, Lea Tornith, but it seems you have run out of things to say."

At that soft drawl, Lea's fingers fisted all over again. She spun around to face Gabriel.

"Good afternoon, little peasant of noble blood." Gabriel's eyes ran over her face quickly. "I see that you are already much stronger than you were when I saw you yesterday."

"No doubt, my lord." And then, her eyes eloquently speaking her accusation, "You had no right to do that."

Gabriel raised a brow. "May I remind you that I have every right to make a decision on who was to blame for the little debacle this afternoon. Without – I might add – the need for your constant interruptions. I did not require your advice about Cecily's role in today's proceedings."

"Oh, go to the devil," she bit out.

A flicker of surprise flashed across his face. Those blue eyes surveyed Lea's hot face quietly for a moment. "Why do I feel," Gabriel said very slowly, "that we are speaking at cross-purposes?"

Lea took a breath. "You have made a traitor of her," she said finally, and couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. "You had no right."

Awareness dawned in Gabriel's eyes. "You are speaking of Anne Truin," he marvelled. "I would have thought it would be the countess who occupied your thoughts, Lea Tornith, but it seems Anne has driven Cecily from your mind."

"You have made a traitor of her," Lea repeated doggedly.

"Is that what I did?" His tone was very mild. "I was under the impression that I freed the girl from bondage."

"She was not in _bondage_ ," Lea said at once. "Anne chose to serve Cecily. If she wished, she could have found other employment once she returned to Lorien. You confuse us with Makliaven, my lord," she added sarcastically. "Lorien does not endorse slavery of any kind."

"Indeed." Gabriel's smile was very cool. His booted foot gently rubbed at some dirt on a crooked slab of brick, his gaze falling to rest on his work. "Anne has no family to speak of, you know."

Lea's lips parted in surprise. "Oh," she said at last. _What had that to do with anything?_ "I didn't know that."

"Since the death of her father some months ago, she lost her home to debt collectors. The same debt collectors who condemned her to a life of servitude in order to recoup the monies her father borrowed from them so – liberally." He raised his eyes to Lea's face. "Ah, that does not sit well with you, does it, child of Lorien?"

"The debt collectors operate without sanction of the king," Lea said automatically, but she'd gone rather pale. "Anne could – she could petition the King for – for relief..." Her voice petered out. She knew as well as anyone that many would rather stay in bonded servitude than petition for relief and risk the ire of the underground guilds that financed Lorien's illegal debt collectors. "It's Makliaven, you understand," she said desperately. "It's their people, their... The debt collectors came from them, not from us. Our people would never do such things if not for the influence of Makliaven's – The point is, my lord, Anne is Lorien born, Lorien _bred_. It's not as simple as you imply." Lea took a breath. "You wouldn't understand."

Gabriel surveyed her for a moment. "Perhaps it is you who do not understand, not I."

Somehow, Lea managed to hold her tongue, but her face tightened imperceptibly.

Ah," Gabriel said softly, "that doesn't sit well with you either, does it, peasant girl?"

"No, it doesn't," Lea said shortly. Bloody tyrant.

"And yet, you continue to make excuses for that which your blind loyalty allows."

The irony in that statement almost made Lea snort inelegantly. "My loyalty is not blind," she exclaimed. "You, of all people, have no right to say such things."

"I of – all people?" he repeated slowly.

"Unlike you," she snapped, "I do _not_ favour anyone. My lord."

"Favour anyone." His expression hardened.

She lifted a defiant chin. "You know of whom I speak."

Gabriel regarded her silently. And then, "Is there some reason you wish Cecily Fortuna ill?"

Lea blinked. "I... I don't wish her ill," she stammered at last, and gathered her reserve around her like a cloak. "I believe we were talking about your favouring Cecily over her maid, my lord."

"I believe I have changed the subject," Gabriel said softly, "Do try to keep up, and just this once, I would appreciate it if you answered my next question without lying: why didn't you help her? Or Anne?"

She stared at him. "I don't lie," Lea muttered, but to her horror, her cheeks were burning again. Gabriel's expression turned sardonic. Hastily recovering her composure, Lea said stiffly, "Now look here, my lord, I was about to help them when you –"

"Was that what you were about to do?" Gabriel remarked. "From where I stood," he inclined his head to indicate one of the courtyard entrances opposite where Lea had been standing during the altercation, "it looked like you were enjoying the entire spectacle immensely."

She dragged in a startled breath. He'd been there the whole time? "That is unfair," Lea said at last. "Despite what you think, my lord, I was going to help her."

"No doubt once the children had scratched Cecily's beautiful face to your satisfaction."

There was a brief silence as sharp blue eyes clashed with mutinous brown. _He's just like the rest of them_ , Lea thought grimly. _Taken in by a pretty face and soft blue eyes._ "I'll admit," she said finally, "and this will probably surprise you – that what I know of the countess leaves much to be desired – but I _was_ going to help her."

"I wonder when this generous assistance would have made itself shown. After the assault was over perhaps?"

She went scarlet. "I wasn't aware that there was a – a specific moment most suited for the rendering of my help," Lea snapped. "How was I supposed to know when it would have been appropriate to step in?"

"Ask me again when you are the victim of such an assault," Gabriel advised her.

She bit her lip. She had left things rather late, hadn't she? But she couldn't risk being recognised...

Abruptly, Lea's eyes dropped from his. "You are being unfair, my lord."

He kept silent. "Perhaps you would have acted differently if you had known," Gabriel said suddenly.

She glanced up. "Known what?"

"The children were fey."

"Fey?" Lea's brows drew together. _Not this again_. "I... I don't know what you mean, my lord."

Gabriel lifted a brow. "Fey. Faerie. A very specific creature of old magic."

"Old magic..."

"Very old," he said softly, and took the few steps needed to bring him beside a large tree ringed by a base of stone and earth. Gabriel leaned down, his gleaming cloak falling in gentle folds about his lean figure as he trailed his fingers gently in the dark earth. "Creatures of old magic are not as you are, Lea Tornith. They would not think as you do, behave as you do. They are tainted by a different time, a different sense of the world."

"I...I don't know what you mean." Lea watched doubtfully as Gabriel straightened, turning to look at her with a grim touch about his mouth. "What do you mean, a different sense of the world? We are all born in the same world."

He shook his head and came forward, coming to a stop just before a wary Lea. "The fey have a certain cruelty to them that is absent in most creatures born in this world. Their rules are not the rules of your kingdom. Often they are not the rules of mine. Restraint chafes at them. Their powers yearn to break any limitation imposed on them. Or control." He paused. "An insult to the fey is often the same as a death wish. They would have torn the countess to pieces if they could have."

An unexpected chill descended on the courtyard, invaded Lea's insides. Unbidden, there rose in her memory the sight of the children restraining the struggling maids with laughing ease, their eyes burning with a strange and malicious cunning, their faces alight with a kind of intense passion as though their bodies clothed beings of much greater power than what appeared to the naked eye.

Fiercely, Lea shook her head. She backed away from Gabriel. "Do you really expect me to believe that the children – that they were not human?"

"I do not expect you to believe anything," he replied with a shrug, and watched as she stilled some feet from him, eyes wide in confusion. His gaze sharpened on Lea's paling face. "Oh, but you will not be able to deny our world forever, spitfire," Gabriel added softly. "You know this as well as I."

The wind-whirled leaves in the courtyard were set back on the ground with a soft, shivering sigh. Lea's arms came up to hug herself. "It is cold," she said absently. "I wish to go back to my room."

Those dark brows, like raven wings, arched slightly. "You cannot run away from the truth forever," he advised her.

"May I go now? My lord."

"As you wish." He inclined his head, blue eyes piercing on hers. And then, Gabriel simply walked away.

Lea stared at his receding back, feeling oddly at a loss. The anger sustaining her earlier had dissipated without warning. She had the sinking feeling she'd earned more than Gabriel's condemnation this afternoon; she'd earned his disappointment.

"Not that I care," she muttered viciously, turning her back on his disappearing figure. "Even if I told him the truth, he'd probably _still_ have been disappointed. Bloody illusionist."

She left the courtyard with fast, furious steps. "What can he know about real people, real choices? He's an administrator, a _theorist_." She knew his type well, always sitting undisturbed in their comfortable, luxurious little studies while they delegated work to their miserable underlings, living peaceful little lives without worrying about the realities outside their orderly little windows. "How dare he presume to judge me? How dare he take her word so easily over mine?"

It was Cecily who should have been given a slap on the wrist for starting the fight and then blaming her maid for it. Instead, the countess had been allowed to return to her room with promises of comfort and reassurance while Lea had had to endure yet another session of rebuke and condemnation – not to mention delusional ramblings. It simply wasn't _fair_.

But there suddenly rose a touch of uncertainty in Lea's eyes. She couldn't help remembering just how spitefully the children had tormented the defenceless countless – while Lea herself did nothing at all to dissuade them.

Abruptly, Lea's expression turned perplexed. Her steps slowed. She came to a sudden stop in an empty corridor.

"Ah, you are cruel yourself, aren't you?" Lea whispered into the quiet. "I wonder how long you stood there, my lord, watching us all while the children preyed on Cecily."
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Chapter 14

Afternoon had turned into a cool evening, and the events in the courtyard persuaded Lea that it would be best to retreat to her room. It was not only her body that was aching now. Her thoughts were as unsteady as her trembling legs. And her stomach was rumbling.

It was with gratitude that Lea spied a new jug of berry-flavoured water sitting by her bedside. The tonic was cool and refreshing and by the time she'd drained the jug dry, she'd come to a decision. Gabriel clearly couldn't be trusted. It would be foolish to attempt an escape without learning more of her captor and his ways, if only to warn her superiors as to any potential threat this hidden realm could pose to its neighbours.

One week, Lea thought. That would be more than enough time to discern how powerful Gabriel Amarinth was, how dark a danger this world could be to her own. And if today's events had, by some miracle, _not_ managed to set Gabriel's opinion of her in stone, one week should also be enough time to convince Gabriel that she had only good intentions towards him, his people and his guests, even if that included a certain spoilt countess.

Lea groaned softly. It really would have looked like she had enjoyed watching what the children did to Cecily; or that she was being a coward for not trying to help. She'd have to come up with a reason for her behaviour, something Gabriel would believe – something that would also make it understandable for Lea not to want to cross paths with Cecily again. This was a large castle, but it wasn't large enough for her to constantly avoid the countess without Gabriel becoming suspicious.

At that, Lea snorted and said loudly, "Not that I'm at all afraid of him, of course."

After repeating the words twice – purely for the listening pleasure of whomever might be spying on her, Lea was quick to tell herself – she got onto her bed, dragged herself to the middle of bright satin, and sat down cross-legged. She felt uncharacteristically close to tears. Could she really have stumbled into a realm of magic? The children earlier... They'd seemed so...

A sudden thought came to her mind. If the fey Gabriel spoke of were supposed to be so powerful and dangerous, why had the children been so frightened of Gabriel himself?

Her heart began to beat very fast. Suddenly, Lea felt more alone than ever. She shook her head, trying to clear it of its dark, absurd thoughts. If only Michael knew where she was...

The thought put things in perspective. She couldn't afford to forget that there was a traitor in Lorien and that some of her friends were still trapped, praying she would save them.

With a soft sigh, Lea flopped on her back, her head pillowed in her hands as she looked up at the curving stuccoed ceiling. The ceiling's inlaid structure sported images of giant, burgundy tinted roses and a long, golden dragon darting snake-like in between thorny brown branches. A frown crept across Lea's forehead. She brought her right hand around to above her face and inspected her glittering bracelet thoughtfully. Her fingers traced its intricate design with care, ran gently over its carefully shaped gemstones, its filigreed silver chain. She couldn't help marvelling at the delicate workmanship of the thing, the light weight of it. Here again was something so beautifully wrought that it would be difficult to find its like in Lorien, or even Makliaven, where such items were greatly in demand. Her eyes turned resentful.

"To mark me as his," she murmured, her eyes locked on the pretty trinket. It appeared so very different from the rusted chains that had bound her wrists not long ago that it was almost impossible to remind herself that shackles came in many different shapes and guises.

"To mark me as his." Her expression turned quite grim, the set of her chin mutinous. "Not for long, Gabriel Amarinth."

There was the discordant sound of metal scraping metal nearby. Instinctively, Lea stiffened; her eyes flew wildly to her bedside table. They widened at what they saw.

"By all the fates," Lea said slowly, and sat up. There before her, just behind the empty jug of tonic water, sat a wide golden tray heaped with a broad assortment of meats and delicacies, pies, tarts and fruits. Lea's brows rose. She must have missed the tray when she walked in earlier, brooding about Cecily and Gabriel Amarinth. A broad smile crossed her face. This tray held far more food than the one she'd ignored yesterday. And with her appetite back to normal, her peasant girl story had obviously had an unexpected benefit.

It took a mere half hour for Lea to empty the tray of its contents. Only then did she notice a tall fluted glass of amber-shaded liquid perched on a corner of the side-table. Lea hesitated, then reached out for the drink. It was too late now to worry about being drugged.

Her first sip of the liquid produced a gasp. This was so much better than the tonic. The amber liquid was cooling, soft, everything that was soothing and ethereal and dreamlike; she'd never felt so thirsty.

Lea drank slowly, savouring the delicate texture of the liquid until the very last drop. Her head hit the pillow almost as soon as she set the glass down.

When Lea woke up, it was dark outside, but her room was lit in soft shades of gold. Lamps had been placed in strategic corners of the ceiling, giving the pleasant effect of light without the sharpness of a lamp's heart.

"It can't be night already." With a groan, Lea sat up, and winced at the headache that struck her. "Good grief... I can't even remember falling asleep." Her hand on her head, Lea swung her legs over the side of the bed. A tall, empty glass met her sight, sitting innocently beside a wide tray filled with delicate crumbs. She swore. The liquid must have been a very strong intoxicant indeed. Warily, Lea picked up the glass and sniffed it. The uneasy feeling of being subject to spells and enchantments popped into her head and she set the flute down as if it were a snake.

"You did nothing wrong in eating the food or drinking the Ambershine." A small pause. "Neither was drugged."

Lea instantly recognized those smooth tones. "As you say, my lord." Looking up, she wasn't surprised to see Gabriel sitting in one of the room's elegant chairs in a shadowed corner on the left of the bed. His long legs were crossed, his hands resting carelessly on the chair's arms. It was much the same attitude he'd assumed earlier yesterday morning, save that this time Lea couldn't see his expression as clearly as she would have liked. She wondered how long he'd been sitting there, watching her.

Carelessly, she wrapped her arms around her waist. "But of course, my lord, there's no way I would know if you were telling the truth."

"No, I suppose there wouldn't be." His smile was very cool. "I suppose you will have to take my word for it."

Her eyes filled with annoyance. "Do you always toy with your prisoners in this way?"

"Oh, I toy only with my guests, not my prisoners," Gabriel said softly.

Her palms fell to the soft mattress, curling into gentle cloth. "By rendering us drunk? I have the most abominable headache right now." She tilted her head at him, and something in his arrogant eyes made her dare to say, "A most cowardly strategy on your part. My lord."

Gabriel smiled suddenly. He leaned forward, moving out of the shadows. "The headache will not last for long. I can help it along if you like."

"No," Lea said sharply. The thought of willingly submitting to any kind of spell was anathema to her nature. It was a second before she caught the significance of that thought. A wry, half-frustrated smile touched her lips. "I must be more tired than I thought. For a moment, my lord, I almost supposed you intended to remove my aches and pains by use of dark enchantments."

"I do not need to use magic to help you."

"Oh?"

"I am well versed in the healing arts," Gabriel remarked, and sat back. "I could not train my apprentices in their studies otherwise. You met Starr yesterday, did you not?" At Lea's reluctant nod, Gabriel observed blandly, "She told me that you were – reluctant – to drink the tonic water we prepared for your benefit. I had thought you enjoyed the taste of it?"

Who would have thought a cat couldn't be trusted? Lea raised limpid eyes to Gabriel's. "I'm not a fan of tonics," she observed sadly, "even those that taste as good as yours does." She hesitated. "But I have been drinking the water since it – since _you_ seemed to believe it so essential to my recovery."

She glanced up beneath her lashes to see Gabriel watching her with a small smile on his lips again. It was oddly free of his usual mockery, but that only made Lea trust him even less than she already did. She shifted nervously on the bed. She wondered when he would ask her about Cecily Fortuna.

"You will not have to drink the tonic any longer," Gabriel said suddenly. "The side effects of Ambershine are little more than a headache for most, but its healing properties are very generous indeed."

Ambershine? Her eyes flitted to the empty flute on her side-table. "I would never have guessed." Lea put a hand to the side of her head. "The pain is passing quickly, I'll admit."

"Certainly not as quickly as that of your other injuries, I think."

The room's lighting brightened without warning. Lea blinked, shielded her eyes instinctively, but let her hand drop as she stared in reluctant awe. Automated lighting; the advanced technology in this old castle would never cease to surprise her. Her gaze met Gabriel's. She could see him clearly now, and the brooding expression on his lean face prompted a flutter of disquiet inside her. What were they talking about again? Oh, her injuries.

"They are healing well enough, my lord."

"I'm glad to hear it." He shook his head. "I am still disturbed by what happened to you, so close to my kingdom."

Lea sat up straighter. "Makliaven's ways have produced more robbers and murderers than is natural," she offered, "on both sides of their borders."

"Robbers and murderers who left your face unscathed," Gabriel observed, equally quietly. "Unusual, at the least. The only bruises we found on your skin were the result of scratches from the thorns that spring so wildly on our forest's shrubbery."

So he had noticed. There was a brief pause as Lea resisted the impulse to hide her face from his sight. Carefully, she thought about what to say. "I was fortunate they had no time to inflict more injuries than they already did," she said at last. That, at least, was the truth. She turned away from Gabriel, her heart beating fast at the thought of what might have been had she not escaped when she did. "I was fortunate," she repeated softly.

"My offer to send your family a message still stands."

Lea spied a frown in his eyes when she looked up at him. She cleared her throat. "A message, my lord."

"They would be glad to know that you are among friends, well cared for and healing from your injuries." He paused. "You may write the note in your own hand, if you wish."

"Thank you, but I would prefer not to lie to them."

"Would your message be a lie?" Gabriel raised a brow.

There was something different about his appearance today and Lea suddenly registered that he was dressed all in black. The silver amulet and ruby ring he still wore, but with black shirt and trousers, and ebony boots with silver embroidery, Gabriel looked more enigmatic than ever under the glowing lamplight. He didn't wear a coat or cloak tonight, and his fitted garb emphasized his tall, lithe build, abruptly making Lea think of a masculine version of Starr. Perhaps it was only reasonable after all for the panther to be so fixated on becoming human to engage Gabriel's affections.

"Yes, my message would be a lie," she said quietly, and turned to look over her shoulder at the dark, quiet night outside her open windows. No stars shone tonight. She could see only the barest hint of a bright moon hidden behind thick, grey clouds. "After all, my lord, I am neither with friends, nor away from Lorien by choice."

When she turned back to him, Gabriel's expression hadn't changed, but Lea had the sudden impression she had offended him once more. "My lord?" she said uneasily.

"There are more clothes for you in the closet," Gabriel said after a moment. "I do not believe you were ever a peasant a day in your life –" he ignored her small sound of protest, "– but since you insist on keeping up this charade, we shall pretend that I am enriching your education in the ways of those above your station. Please ensure you are dressed accordingly in Verlaine."

There had been a bite beneath that smooth voice. She _had_ offended him. Lea was beginning to think she was fated to constantly be at odds with her enigmatic captor. "I thought there is no rank here," she pointed out, and added softly, "Except of course that you are Guardian of Verlaine."

"There is that, isn't there?" His gaze narrowed on her face. "Of course, that is something you do not let me forget. Addressing me by my given name appears an unforgiveable sin you dare not commit. And yet, you called Cecily Fortuna by her name this afternoon, as though her rank counted for nothing in your eyes, child of Lorien."

This, Lea had anticipated, but she wished she could have had more time to formulate a suitable reply to his unspoken question. "When I told you I knew _of_ Cecily, I might have been... understating the matter," Lea admitted.

Gabriel's face remained expressionless. "Go on."

"I spent my summers with my mother's family for many years," she began, very softly. "Often, at their home; sometimes, at their estate in the north. They disinherited my mother for marrying a merchant, but my grandfather must have mellowed by the time I came along. He insisted on exposing me to life as a courtier, the life he felt I was entitled to, and my father apparently agreed with him. That is how I came to meet Cecily. We have dined together, spent odd evenings together... albeit with many other guests."

"And yet," Gabriel said, "the countess did not appear to recognise you."

Lea shrugged. "She would never have recognised me as I look now." Her slender fingers gestured at her boy's dress. "We have not set eyes on each other for some years." Lea darted a glance at him. "I cannot complain. Nobles would not dress as I do in Lorien, let alone act as I do." She shrugged. "But I consider my noble blood well and truly diluted, my lord. I've long refused to join the ranks of the privileged in favour of honest farm living. There has been no connection between me and Cecily for many years now. She would not recognise me."

Gabriel swung a booted leg to and fro as he regarded her calmly. He didn't look like he believed a word she'd said.

"I assure you, my lord, what I have told you is the truth."

"Perhaps the meaning of the word escapes you," Gabriel said mildly, "but the truth is ordinarily something that is _not_ a lie."

"My lord?"

"You seem to be a serial liar, Lea Tornith," Gabriel observed, watching her with those lazy blue eyes, swinging his booted foot back and forth, back and forth, until Lea felt like smacking it with something to make him stop. "I have strong suspicions that you have an aversion to truths of any kind."

She flushed. "That is unkind."

He raised a brow. "Unkind? My dear girl, what you let happen to your old friend today was unkind."

"She is not my friend," Lea said at once.

"I had forgotten," Gabriel apologised politely.

"Why must you always mock me so?" Lea wondered aloud, and pressed her lips shut in surprise. Would she never be able to hold her tongue around Gabriel Amarinth?

"Mock... _you_?" He left the words hanging delicately in the air, his expression sardonic. "You will forgive me if I do not reply that question."

"My lord, I –"

"Spare me the protestations. I did not come here to revisit the matter of your relationship to Cecily Fortuna in any event." He leaned back in his chair, wholly at ease. "I merely wished to invite you to join me and a few other guests for dinner tonight."

Lea sat up very straight. His invitation had come out sounding like an order. Her fingers were fidgeting on her lap before she could stop them, her mind working furiously to match the restless movements. "I know you think I was wrong for not helping the countess, Gabriel, but I –"

"Ah, progress at last," he murmured.

She paused. "I'm sorry, my lord?"

He smiled. "It seemed I was in error. Please continue."

Silently, Lea counted to three. "There is a past between us... between Cecily and me," she said at last, and paused, unsure what to say next. She finally settled with, "I would not be comfortable attending the dinner if she is one of the other guests."

Gabriel lifted a dark brow. "You did not seem to hate her before," he said very softly, in such a way that Lea wished she knew what he was thinking. "May I ask what has prompted this sudden dislike?"

"It's not sudden," she said in a low voice. "As I told you, my lord, I have had occasion to cross paths with her and she has never – she has never, well..." Up came a firm chin as Lea looked Gabriel steadily in the eyes. "Let me just say, my lord, that she considered me low-born, an usurper moving unfairly within her circle, treated me therefore with the same courtesy with which she treats her many servants. Just to be sure I understood where I stood in her eyes, you see," she explained.

"Most interesting."

Lea wasn't sure quite what to make of the toneless way he said that, so she kept silent.

"She treated you – unkindly, perhaps?" Gabriel suggested at last.

"Perhaps." There was that defiant lift to Lea's chin once more, more pronounced this time. _Don't believe me then, you damn illusionist._ "The year before last," she went on, but it was difficult to continue when he continued to look at her so – sardonically, "was my final summer with my mother's family. My uncle told them he would not make me visit them if I did not wish to go, and I was lucky enough never to meet Cecily again. Until today, that is."

She came to an abrupt stop, unaware how fiercely she stared at Gabriel, daring him to call her a liar.

But he said only, in that cool way of his, "I – see."

The hollow hoot-hoot of an owl broke the sudden silence that filled the room.

"Hmmmm." Those blue eyes stayed steady and sharp on Lea's face. "You do realise, of course, that nothing you have just told me should preclude your joining us tonight."

"My lord, I must _insist_ that I –"

"The countess will not be attending the dinner."

"Oh," Lea said, and forgot what she had been about to say. The tension unknowingly holding her in its grip abruptly disappeared. She couldn't stop her relief from translating into a wide, satisfied smile. "That is – good. My lord."

"Hmmmm." He considered her dispassionately. "Think of me, Caleb or Starr in about an hour when you leave your room and you will enter our private dining room. You are familiar by now with this assistance on the castle's part, are you not?"

Lea opened her mouth, raised a finger to point at the door, then thought better of what she had been about to say. Her mouth closed slowly. Her hand dropped harmlessly to her lap. The conversation had proceeded so civilly thus far, she didn't want to be the one to spoil it. "Yes, the castle's assistance," she repeated in a hollow voice. For a moment there, she'd forgotten that Gabriel Amarinth was not fully in possession of his senses. "Of course, my lord."

"We will expect you in an hour, yes?" He gestured towards the neat writing table in the opposite corner of the room. "A timepiece has been added to your things. It is an old one, but I believe it will do." He got up to leave.

"The dinner, my lord," Lea said hastily. "It's in your private dining room?"

He paused to look at her over his shoulder. "Yes, that is what I said."

"In, er, which wing of the castle?" Lea smiled nervously. "Just in case I get lost, you see." Suddenly, Lea's expression blanked. Caleb's absurd reminder not to offend the castle flashed through her mind. Oh, she was such a fool! How could she not have guessed? Gabriel's entire castle was _pretending_ to believe in magic and enchantment purely to please their master.

Her relief was so enormous that Lea sagged slightly where she sat. Casually, she repeated Caleb's words, "You know, in case I offend the castle or something and can't use its assistance to find you."

There was a flash of white teeth in Gabriel's face. "That would certainly be inconvenient," he said gravely. His smile deepened. "May I advise you on one matter, Lea Tornith?"

Her lips trembled into a humourless smile in return. "You may, my lord."

"As much as you'd like to think of yourself as someone who possesses a will of iron and an intelligent mind –"

"I don't think," Lea began automatically, then fell silent, a small frown on her face. There was nothing wrong with possessing an iron will and intelligent mind.

"Yet," Gabriel continued, "your thoughts betray you."

"Oh?"

"Oh yes. Do you want to know why?"

And Lea spotted the barest hint of wicked delight on his face.

"I am certain you will tell me whether I want to know or not," she muttered. Oh, if she was in possession of her usual strength, Gabriel Amarinth would learn never to mock her again.

"Every single thought in your defiant little head," he explained politely, "finds its way right into your – eyes."

"That is unfortunate," Lea said at last, and was conscious of a sudden, strange flutter somewhere in the vicinity of her stomach as she kept her eyes on his.

"So, you see, it is really quite impossible not to know what you are thinking."

"Oh?" Surely she could come up with something better than that. Lea cleared her throat. "Such as?"

"Such as, for example, the fact you think me insane."

Her eyes widened ever so slightly.

"It is quite an... amusing assumption, of course. But also very, very rude."

She daren't reply.

"In the circumstances, may I suggest something?"

She didn't see how she could stop him.

"Try not to insult me to my face quite so often and we will get along quite well."

And then, he was turning back around and walking away from her.

"Wait," Lea called out rather desperately just as he opened her door. "You haven't told me – Which wing of the castle, Gabriel?"

The tall noble paused with his back to her. "Ah, we make progress once more," he murmured. "The west wing, Lea Tornith. The west wing. Do try not to be late."
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Chapter 15

"I'm going to be late."

Lea grimaced as she re-applied her bandages and poultices carefully. She'd given in to the desire for a bath and let time get away from her; the antique metal timepiece on her desk informed her that her hour was almost up. But Lea found herself dragging her feet still. This was not a dinner she could look forward to. Her last conversation with Gabriel was still in her mind. Was she really that easy for him to read? Lea's mouth hardened.

She spent precious minutes ensuring she looked the part Gabriel had chosen for her tonight, settling at last on a formal two-piece suit of dark blue with a ruffled white shirt. At the bottom of the closet sat a pair of buckled black shoes that looked rather uncomfortable. Stuffing her feet into them, Lea walked stiffly to the door.

She hesitated before opening it, and grimaced. Reluctantly, Lea kept an image of Gabriel in her mind, quickly opened the door and stepped through. She stood silently in the familiar empty corridor outside her room.

"It was worth a try anyway," Lea muttered, and started off in search of a route to the west wing of the castle.

It turned out to be surprisingly easy to get directions. Even the most reserved courtier Lea accosted along the way thawed visibly when she mentioned her destination, helpfully pointed her in the right direction to Gabriel's private dining room and often ended their conversation with an admiring comment about her appearance or demeanour. Obviously, her host's deranged manner had not reduced his value in the eyes of his guests.

It wasn't long before Lea began to get the sense that an invitation to dinner with Gabriel was an honour not bestowed on many. The thought promptly put her on edge; she'd done nothing to deserve such an honour. Gabriel must have some as yet hidden purpose for inviting her to join him tonight.

Stoically, Lea continued on her way to the castle's west wing. The creams and golds of her wing soon gave way to rich maroons and bright reds. A calm, quiet energy pervaded the atmosphere here, less jovial, more business-like. There were less courtiers in the corridors of this wing, though it was still busy enough; she watched as they hurried along the corridors as though running late or on urgent errands. Gradually, Lea realised who these serious, efficient men and women must be.

"They work for him," she murmured aloud, and observed the hurrying individuals with greater interest. "This is the castle's administrative wing."

Caleb's room must be in this wing, Lea surmised. And Starr's. She wondered if Gabriel's rooms would also be housed in this wing. Many nobles chose to keep their private rooms separate from that of their staff or visitors, she knew, but suddenly felt certain that Gabriel wasn't the type of aristocrat to segregate himself from his people.

"Don't be absurd," Lea said suddenly, and scowled. "You know nothing of him to make such an assumption."

Someone cleared their throat loudly.

Lea glanced to left and right, then finally looked down. "Oh."

"I did not mean to interrupt the conversation you were having with yourself," said the short, earnest fellow standing just beside, and a little to the back of, Lea. "But the Amarinth heir sent me to find you."

Lea was so surprised by this that she forgot to ask the small man who he was. How could Gabriel have sent someone to find her if he didn't know where she was? She frowned. "Are you certain it is me you are looking for?"

"Of course," the dwarf said. And he was undoubtedly a dwarf. Clean shaven, with short brown hair and dark eyes, he possessed a slim, lean build that made his three and a half foot height seem taller than it was. Stubby little fingers sat on firm hands and he had rather muscular shoulders. The dwarf's expressive face was looking rather anxious. "You are Lea Tornith, are you not? Newly arrived from the land they call Lorien?"

Lea regarded him silently. "That is I," she said finally. Obviously, Gabriel's spies had told him she was still running about the west wing unable to find his dining room. The thought was mortifying. She forced a smile to her face and put out a hand. "And you are?"

Out came a firm, small hand to take hers. "My name is Dorian." The dwarf smiled up at her in return. "It is a pleasure to meet one so honoured by the Amarinth heir."

Lea shook his hand firmly. Her eyes couldn't help dwelling on Dorian's rather sweet face. His forehead was perhaps a bit too large at first glance, but he had a firm, stubborn jaw that Lea couldn't help approving of, and the large, dark eyes looking up at her so imploringly were rather beautiful, matched rather cleverly with Dorian's russet-coloured tunic and trousers. Lea noticed that the dwarf's clothes were faded from constant use, and her face softened.

"I'm sorry to have caused you so much trouble," she said impulsively. "I didn't think I would get lost once I got to the west wing of the castle, but everyone seems so busy that I –"

"Didn't want to trouble them." Dorian nodded understandingly, and slipped his hand trustingly into Lea's own. He didn't seem to notice the brief expression of shock that ran through her eyes or the way she held herself so stiffly all of a sudden, but simply pulled her along behind him as he took off down the corridor. "This way, Lea Tornith. The Amarinth heir said they have been waiting for you for some time."

"Oh," Lea said weakly, and let herself be pulled along behind the squat fellow. Gabriel's minions, as she'd begun to think of them, paid neither her nor Dorian any mind. She had the oddest urge to laugh. "Dorian, Dorian," she protested. "You are pulling my arm off. Slow down."

The dwarf shook his head. "You should not be late to meet the Amarinth heir."

"I'm already late," Lea pointed out, but the dwarf's earnestness made her smile. "Why do you call him that by the way?"

"Call who, what?" Dorian said, and abruptly made a turn into another, quieter corridor.

Only a trickle of people walked the length of this long hallway and Lea found herself suppressing a sudden, unexpected shiver of apprehension. She came to an abrupt stop, nearly toppling forward when Dorian would have pulled her along with him.

"Are you sure you're going the right way?" Lea said aloud, and hastily retrieved her hand while the dwarf looked about him in confusion. "I was certain one of the other guests said to keep to the earlier corridor."

Dorian frowned. "How did we come to be here?" Lea heard the little fellow murmur. "I was sure I was going the other way."

"You mean, back down that corridor?" she said doubtfully, and pointed in the direction they'd just come from.

Dorian nodded vigorously, before turning to look down this new hallway. That look of confusion settled on his face once more. "I suppose we could go this way too."

"We could?" Lea said doubtfully. There was no one standing in this corridor now, just her and Dorian, and she was very conscious that she must be uncomfortably late for the dinner by now. But the long stretch of hallway before her had no doors or windows that she could see. And something inside her didn't want to go any further. "I'd rather not, Dorian," Lea said at last. "Can't we go another way?"

"This is the fastest way to the dining room," the dwarf insisted, but there was an oddly reluctant look on his face now.

_You feel it too, don't you?_ Lea thought. _As though we should not be here. Not at all._

Her fingers found the silver bracelet on her right wrist, caressed it absently. The action infused her with unexpected resolve. "Let's go back the other way."

Dorian didn't answer her. He was still staring down the silent corridor, a dull expression on his face.

Lea felt very cold suddenly. "Dorian," she said sharply and, against every instinct she had, Lea held out an imperious hand to the dwarf. "I do not wish to be later than I already am. The Amarinth heir will be waiting for me, Dorian."

Her purposeful use of the strange term seemed to work. The dwarf hesitated, then turned back to Lea. Reluctantly, he took the hand held out to him.

Lea gripped Dorian's small fingers tightly in her own and slowly drew her new friend along with her until they were back where they started in that earlier, busier section of the west wing. She released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, smiled down at the small fellow standing quietly by her side. "Come, my friend," Lea said gently. "Which way do we go now?"

The words seemed to jolt Dorian out of his earlier confusion. "I'm sorry, Lea Tornith. I made a mistake." He pointed to an ornate door directly opposite where they stood. "The Amarinth heir waits for you on the other side."
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Chapter 16

The strains of a haunting melody filled her ears. Catching her breath, Lea turned to face those already present in the room she had walked into so hurriedly.

The studied disinterest she tried to keep on her face faded helplessly; this was a truly beautiful room. It wasn't small but it certainly held a cosy ambience, due in part to the dark colour scheme – full of rich woods for furnishing and panelling – and maroon carpeting. Like the room that she, Michael and Lucien often dined in at home, this room was crowned with a high domed ceiling. Elegant paintings and rich tapestries adorned its walls. Tall candelabra sat on high side-tables, bathing most of the room's dark corners in warm light. The two large chandeliers that hung from the ceiling provided the rest of the room's lighting with brilliant effect, sprinkling the dining table placed in the centre of the room in a generous web of light that tapered out into darkness towards its outer reaches, so that any who walked into the place would focus quite naturally on that long table and the people it seated.

A table, Lea saw, that was already filled with a generous assortment of dishes at one end, where its diners sat talking.

Embarrassment filled her. They'd served dinner after all, had concluded – understandably – that she must have changed her mind about attending.

Quietly, Lea took a few steps back until she was leaning back against the large door to the room. She didn't think anyone had noticed her late arrival. She could still leave without a word. There were no attendants in this room. There was no sign even of a musician, despite the strains of that soft, haunting music still filling Lea's ears. And the diners were too busy talking as they sat at that elegant rosewood table with its matching upholstered chairs, to notice her departure.

At the thought, Lea's attention was drawn to a tall jar of deep red roses placed in the middle of the table. Its blooms were larger than any Lea had seen before, gleaming a near blood-red under the generous candlelight. For some reason, the sight made her feel sick. She turned hastily to thick mahogany-shaded curtains with ice blue embroidery that hung from ceiling to floor behind the table – and at various sections of the room, she realised as she took a breath to compose herself. She couldn't help wondering if some of the cloth had been hung for effect and not to veil any of the castle's usual profusion of windows.

It was with a kind of unwelcome shock that Lea finally noticed her host. When she did, she wondered how she could have missed him.

Gabriel was sitting at the head of the table, stern and handsome as he conversed with Starr to his left. The panther sat gracefully on its haunches, its coat gleaming even more than usual; Lea made out glittering gemstones weaved in between bits of dark fur. On Starr's left was Caleb, looking uncomfortable in a dark blue jacket and trousers instead of his usual robes. There was an empty seat on his left.

Lea guessed that the seat was meant for her, but didn't make for it just yet. Instead, she looked carefully at the others sitting at the table, making sure that Cecily Fortuna was not sitting among them; she would walk right out of this room if Gabriel had lied about not inviting the countess.

But Gabriel hadn't lied, Lea saw with relief. With even greater relief, she noted also that she recognised none of the other guests seated at his table.

One person in particular however caught Lea's attention. She was sitting to Gabriel's right. And she was the most beautiful woman Lea had ever seen.

This woman would have made even Cecily Fortuna weep tears of raging envy if she'd been here, Lea thought. But she couldn't be certain what lent such a charming glow to the strange woman. It wasn't purely her face that gave her such an arresting appearance; or her clothes.

Her dress was a real beauty though, Lea thought admiringly.

The woman was clad in an off-shoulder emerald gown that clung lovingly to her slender frame and set off her midnight black hair to perfection. Long and lustrous, the thick tresses crowned the woman's head and curled all the way down her back, some of the thick, twirling strands falling with studied abandon over the front of one creamy shoulder. Lea could have sworn her hair had blue highlights in it.

As for the woman's complexion, it was certainly fair, but not of a ruddy fairness, more akin to alabaster, in stark contrast to large eyes that glowed a deep shade of emerald under the amber shine of the lamplight. Lea abruptly wondered if this was what Starr would look like in human form.

Just then, the woman laughed gently, said something to the others. Lea's eyes narrowed. She couldn't quite make out what the woman was saying, but whatever it was made Gabriel turn to her attentively, watch the animated features, listen to the words that slipped out from between crimson lips. Lea found herself studying the woman's glittering green eyes with a growing frown, wondering who she could be. There was something otherworldly about her that she couldn't quite place...

So focused was Lea on the striking dark-haired woman beside Gabriel that she nearly forgot about the other two unknowns sitting at the table. But one of them suddenly gestured at the other and her attention was diverted.

On the unknown woman's right sat a child, a slim boy perhaps ten years old. His head was covered in a shock of blonde hair, and his eyes seemed to be an odd shade of – silver. Lea drew in a sharp breath; was he blind? From where she stood, she could not be sure. The boy's aspect appeared delicate though, and she couldn't help marking how innocent and proper he appeared as he sat quietly in his seat, listening to an old, wrinkled man in yellow robes who was, it appeared, trying to entertain him by gesticulating and waving his hands about every now and then.

Lea's expression lightened. The boy couldn't be blind then, not if he was following the old man's movements with that small smile on his face. Lea watched them for a moment longer, aware of a strong urge to return to her room. She was in no mood for a conversation with strangers.

In the end, it was sheer courtesy that won over wariness. Shaking off her doubts, Lea straightened, then lazily walked forward, emerging out of the shadows and into the circle of light bathing the table and its diners.

Gabriel looked up at her sudden appearance, an amused twinkle in his eyes, and somehow Lea knew that he had noticed her standing for so long by the door to the room. That increasingly hated burn of colour rushed into her cheeks and she shrugged lightly, a rueful look in her eyes, as if to say, "Did you think I would be here if I had a choice?"

He smiled openly. "Lea." Gabriel nodded towards the seat next to Caleb. "I'm glad you've decided to join us."

"Thank you, my lord. I must apologise for my lateness." Lea made her way to her seat quickly, observing as she did so that although the table's dishes were set, the diners plates were as yet empty. The heaped dishes on the table carried only fruit and bread. A warm feeling settled inside her, mixed with keener embarrassment. They'd waited for her after all. "I'm afraid I lost my way getting here."

"You surprise me," Gabriel murmured. "Please, be seated. Dinner will be served shortly." He turned to say something to Starr.

Ignoring another pinch of mortification, Lea took her seat and turned to Caleb. "It's nice to see a familiar face."

Caleb pointedly kept his face turned towards Starr and Gabriel, listening to their conversation with rather exaggerated interest.

"You're not still angry with me about my performing monkey comment yesterday, are you?" Lea whispered mischievously. "Oh wait, that's what you called yourself, wasn't it?"

He made an annoyed sound, turned to her with a cold, "And to think, we were just beginning to enjoy your absence."

"Good evening to you too," she returned, and added honestly, "You look nice."

He scowled. "How I wish that word could be removed from our kingdom's general vocabulary."

Lea grinned, picking up a plum from the fruit basket nearest her. "Wouldn't help you if it were removed, since I'm not from your kingdom. You do look nice though. Very – dapper."

He pursed his lips, obviously uncertain whether she was being serious or mocking him.

Hungrily, Lea bit into her fruit, savouring its sweetness, and said quietly, "I got lost finding this place."

"Lost?" A sudden spark of awareness lit Caleb's eyes. "You came here – the old-fashioned way?" His lips curved very slowly.

She surveyed him in some annoyance. "Please, don't go on about the castle's assistance and all that rubbish, will you? I cannot tell you how difficult it would have been to find this room if Gabriel hadn't sent Dorian to find me."

Caleb frowned. "Sent Dorian to –"

"So, are there any entertainments planned for the evening?" Lea interrupted him. The last thing she wanted to do was dwell on the mess she'd made getting to this place. "Any, you know – performing monkeys?"

Caleb eyed the juice dribbling down her chin with misgiving and wordlessly pushed a napkin in her direction. "Perhaps you are a peasant girl, after all."

"Thank you." She took another hungry bite. "Who are the other guests?"

"Please, do use the napkin."

The hint of unease in his voice made Lea pause in her rather savage munching. She looked at Caleb curiously. "Is something upsetting you?"

His eyes turned unreadable. "Your lack of basic cleanliness would upset anyone."

But that hint of agitation in his voice had grown stronger, and Lea's eyes widened. "All right, all right," she said gently, and wiped the juice off her chin very carefully. "Is that better?"

Caleb nodded jerkily, and looked away for a moment. "I apologise. I have a particular need to be surrounded by order and cleanliness."

Lea thought of the spotless laboratory, his need to have the items on the lab table in just the right place, and his refusal to shake her hand. Understanding dawned. "Oh, I see."

"What does that mean?" He shot her a cold stare, looked away almost immediately.

She shrugged. "You don't like anything to be messy."

There was a small pause. "It is one of the many eccentricities of my personality," Caleb agreed, sending her another expressionless glance. "I don't believe you do understand, but I'm afraid you'll have to deal with it regardless."

For a moment, Lea couldn't help thinking that the people of all kingdoms were not that different from each other at all. "You know," she said casually, "I have a friend who shares your particular – eccentricity. It is not all that uncommon in Lorien. We'll get along just fine."

He turned to her with surprise in his eyes. "You know someone – like me?"

He sounded so sceptical that it was her turn to be surprised. "Is that so unusual?"

"I suppose not," Caleb said doubtfully. "I have not met another like me in Verlaine."

She blinked. "No one?" _He must be more solitary than I thought._ "Well, my friend has far more eccentric traits than what you describe," Lea remarked. "He never leaves his rooms unless there's threat of a fire, and that is only because he fears being trapped in a place filled with smoke."

Caleb tilted his head thoughtfully. "I can understand his concern."

"Smoke is very difficult to avoid," Lea agreed.

His eyes narrowed. "Are you making fun of me?"

A rather taut silence fell between them. "No," Lea said very quietly, and kept her gaze steady on his. "I am not making fun of you."

Caleb searched her eyes for a moment, then nodded, as if whatever he saw in them had satisfied him. "I should have told you from the beginning that I have unusual ways, but..." He made a face. "I am unused to such conversations. You are the first guest Gabriel has asked me to guide in the ways of our castle."

"I am?" She raised a brow, glanced at her host. He was speaking softly to the green-eyed woman next to him. Lea frowned, turned back to Caleb. "It must be because you were the one who saved me."

He looked at her blankly. "Yes, well... I suppose that was it. Anyway," he continued, "I think it would be best if I do not misrepresent my nature any longer, seeing as we might have to be with each other for long periods of time." He grimaced slightly. "I'm not comfortable being around strangers for long periods of time. I must warn you that you will find me abrupt at best, but that is just the way I am, I'm afraid."

"You surprise me."

Caleb scowled. "Just eat your fruit, peasant girl."

But Lea had caught a glimpse of something perilously akin to relief on his face. He must have been debating for some time whether to inform her about what he called his eccentricities, perhaps wondering how Lea would react, whether she would complain to Gabriel about her guide's lack of manners, or efficiency. Caleb seemed the earnest sort of scholar when he wasn't being so damned rude. If this was really his first time acting as a guest's aide, a complaint to Gabriel was probably something he would hope to avoid if he could.

Lea's lips quirked suddenly; this bit of information might just prove useful in the near future.

"I heard you met an old friend today," Caleb said suddenly.

"A friend?" she wondered, and absently selected another plum. "Oh, Cecily." She took a calm bite of the fruit. "She's not my friend."

Dark eyes surveyed her face with interest. "I see what Gabriel meant now."

A momentary, and quite unexpected, feeling of betrayal flashed through her. "Gabriel discusses me with his apprentices?" Lea demanded.

"You do not have to make that sound so surprising," Caleb commented, and carefully picked a small grape from the fruit basket, popping it into his mouth and chewing it while keeping curious eyes on Lea's face. "I have been Gabriel's apprentice far longer than you have been his unwanted guest."

"Well, I –"

Whatever Lea was about to say was waved away by an impatient hand.

"My master merely informed me that you and Cecily are acquainted," Caleb continued. "And that you have... strong feelings... about her." Caleb tilted his head to the side. "I had the impression the strong feelings he spoke of were not complimentary, seeing as they involved _un-_ inviting her from this dinner."

"Oh," Lea said, and had the grace to feel guilty. She hoped the emotion didn't make its way to her face, and frowned. "I didn't tell your master to take back his invitation."

"Well, we hadn't delivered it to her yet," Caleb admitted, and frowned back at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Lea started. "Oh, uh, I was just wondering... Since you know that Cecily and I really don't get along, I would be grateful if you could help me to –"

Before Lea could continue, Caleb said sharply, "I don't like that spoilt brat any more than you do, but I won't help you avoid her if that is what you wish to ask of me."

Damn it, she really _was_ transparent. Just as Lea began to reassure Caleb, not altogether truthfully, that avoiding Cecily had never crossed her mind, a soft, melodious voice interrupted, "Is this the child you found in the forest, Caleb? I confess I have been most curious to meet the child since I first heard of her rescue."
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Chapter 17

As Lea raised her head in surprise, Caleb looked across the table at the woman with green eyes. "Yes, this is her," he replied, and his tone had been so abrupt that Lea's brows rose in surprise. There was certainly no mistaking hostility for eccentricity this time.

She looked at the beautiful woman across the table, could have sworn she saw a hint of anger in those emerald eyes before the woman turned to Gabriel and said, "Am I not to be introduced, Gabriel?"

Lea felt herself tense instinctively. For some reason, the woman's voice sounded strange suddenly, almost discordant to Lea's ears.

"Lilith. Lea Tornith," Gabriel said easily. He played with the stem of his wine glass as he observed Lea, before turning back to his beautiful companion. Somewhat wryly, "I am going to find it hard to explain you to her."

"What do you mean?" Green eyes turned to their host with unrestrained curiosity. "Why would it be hard?"

"Lea is from Lorien." He paused for the space of a heartbeat. "Her people do not believe in magic."

The table promptly went silent. Suddenly, Lilith laughed.

Lea's eyes slitted. She couldn't help thinking the woman's laughter held a measure of derision in it.

The melodious sounds trickled into softer tones. "The child will soon learn that Lorien's people are the most foolish of the three kingdoms."

Lea wasn't sure what angered her most, that Lilith persistently referred to her as a child, that Gabriel hadn't seen fit to introduce her to Lea by her full name, or that everyone in this place felt it necessary to hurl insults at her kingdom at the least opportunity. She turned to Lilith with a humourless smile. "I have already explained to Gabriel our reasons for not believing in magic," she said thinly. "Or the existence of the _three_ kingdoms you speak of. And whether or not I have reason in future to alter my beliefs, what would those beliefs have to do with you, may I ask?"

Lilith's soft laughter died instantly. Lea was struck abruptly by not only how beautiful she was, but also by the barest hint of viciousness beneath that stark beauty.

"Nothing, of course," Lilith conceded after a moment, and smiled very coldly. "Your beliefs are amusing, perhaps, for their particular brand of foolishness, but they are certainly nothing to do with any of us." She began to laugh again.

"If they are nothing to do with you, it's a wonder you find them amusing," Lea remarked, and had the satisfaction of hearing that melodic laughter die a second, quick death.

The young boy next to Lilith suddenly spoke up. "Mother, perhaps –"

Lilith sent a sharp glance the way of the old man next to her son. He shushed the boy immediately. The boy obediently stayed quiet, but there was a hint of appreciation in his eyes when he looked at Lea that made her like him instantly; she noticed that the boy's eyes were a far lighter green than his mother's, so light in fact that they did seem silver when the light touched them just so – the child certainly wasn't blind. She smiled at him, and then at the old man beside him. The bony fellow was seated directly opposite her, and was staring at her as though she had two heads; which, Lea realised with a sudden twitch to her lips, should not be at all strange to him if he believed in magic.

"I wonder what she would do in our realm," Lilith remarked suddenly.

Lea turned to find the woman watching her with a rather predatory gleam in her eyes.

"She would find her beliefs most – inconvenient if she were to visit our world," Lilith continued.

And when she didn't explain further, Lea looked at Gabriel enquiringly.

"Lilith is visiting from a realm of faerie," he said finally, took a small sip of his wine. His eyes met Lea's over the rim of his glass; she wondered if it was a glint of warning that she spied in those blue depths or something else. "Medonius is her son," Gabriel continued, "and Faderin his carer during his stay here. Like you, Lilith and her family are new to Verlaine. A world without magic would be most unusual to them."

Lea opened her mouth to enquire why none of these supposed fairies had any wings, but abruptly spotted an expectant gleam in Gabriel's eyes. He _was_ amused. Her face set without expression. Sweetly, Lea announced, "I can understand that."

"You believe me, then?" Lilith said sharply.

"She would not dare disbelieve," the bony Faderin interjected. He seemed afraid.

"I was not asking you, old man." Lilith's eyes were cold suddenly, and dangerous.

Lea was forcibly reminded of the two women who had passed her in the corridors of the castle yesterday. _Has it already been two days in this place?_

"I was asking the human." Lilith transferred her gaze back to a now brooding Lea. "Do you believe that I come from a realm of magic – child?"

Gabriel said nothing. Caleb and Starr were also silent now, no doubt wondering what Lea would say next. After that last, mocking 'child' that Lilith had thrown at her, Lea was loath to disappoint her audience.

"Well," she observed finally, "it seems to me that I can neither believe nor disbelieve anything anyone says to me here. It is common courtesy to treat my host and his guests the way he _insists_ on treating me."

Something suspiciously like a snigger issued from Caleb's direction. A pinched look descended on Lilith's classical features. She lifted up a dainty hand. Lea watched her warily.

"Have some Ambershine, my dear." Lilith smiled and waved her hand. Instantly, the decanter standing near Starr moved closer to Lea though none touched it. Lea went very still.

But it seemed Lilith wasn't done with her small display. As Lea continued to watch in startled silence, the nearing decanter rose in the air, then tipped slightly. Shining liquid fell with a tiny splash into the empty crystal goblet directly in front of Lea. She watched silently as her goblet turned full and the decanter settled back gently onto the table.

The only sound in the lavish maroon room was that of the invisible orchestra playing its haunting tunes. Lea knew all eyes were on her. She also knew that she would not give Lilith the satisfaction of knowing how bewildered she felt right now.

After a moment, Lea cleared her throat, looked up directly at the green-eyed woman. "Thank you, but I've had enough Ambershine to last me a week," she announced. "Quite allergic to the stuff." She pushed the goblet to Caleb, whose own stood empty. "I believe you would better appreciate this than I."

Caleb's eyes widened. For a moment, Lea thought he would refuse her offer. But then, his lips quirked into a wide and appreciative grin. He lifted his goblet with alacrity and took a sip. "Delicious."

"Isn't it?" Lea glanced at Lilith as she spoke, only to catch her breath. For the flash of a second, she thought she caught not only fury but something very like hatred in the other woman's eyes.

After a stiff nod in Lea's direction however, Lilith merely turned to Gabriel, murmuring something about how much she was enjoying her stay at the castle.

Her son shot Lea a sympathetic smile but soon turned back to his carer. Lea couldn't help feeling sorry for Medonius. The poor child seemed so sombre, un-faerielike.

At the thought, she gave herself a mental shake. What the devil was she thinking? Did she really believe that she was having dinner with characters out of a faerie tale? No, she reminded herself, she didn't.

Just then, Lea noticed something peculiar: everyone was spooning food into their mouths except her. Frowning, she glanced down at her plate – it was artfully decorated with an assortment of delicate treats.

"What?" she muttered, and took a quick look around the room. It was still bereft of attendants. She must have missed the servants entrance and exit in the heat of the earlier conversation. Mustn't she?

Lea went pale. Her head was beginning to spin. She clenched her fists lightly in her lap.

"Something wrong?" Caleb murmured from just beside her. "You look like you've seen a ghost, peasant girl."

"Nothing wrong," she got out with difficulty. The words tasted bitter on her tongue. "Nothing at all. I'm just – hungry, I guess."

"Which explains why you haven't touched your food."

She bit her lip. "You know, so hungry I can't start eating yet..."

Caleb raised a brow, surveyed her in silence, before lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. He turned back to his own food.

_Focus, you fool._ Warily, Lea picked up her ornate silver fork, raised a crumbling delicacy to her lips and glanced around the table. _Think about the servants later. You might learn something to help you get out of here if you listen carefully._

But the first mouthful of that delicious tartlet was the first clue that focus would be difficult during this particular dinner. Lea wolfed down the contents of her plate with unseemly haste. Gabriel's chef had to be the best-trained in the land, surely.

"You _are_ hungry," Caleb observed ten minutes later, and Lea raised her eyes guiltily to his startled ones. "I've never seen someone put away so much food in so little time. Not even a peasant. Boy," he added.

"I've never tasted anything like this before," Lea admitted, and spooned the last of the tartlets into her mouth with a grin. They were munched away with a small sigh of pleasure. "Oh, _delicious_. If I could, I would steal your master's chef from under his nose before the night is through."

Caleb let out a snort. "I would like to see you try." He picked at his own half-full plate, and nodded his head in Gabriel's direction. "Though you might have a good chance tonight. The faerie's monopolising my master's attention quite successfully."

"Faerie? Oh." Her frown cleared. "Lilith." Her own gaze turned in the direction of the green-eyed woman. Lea's eyes narrowed. "I – see."

"Verlaine is truly lovely, Gabriel," Lilith was saying. Her eyes glowed as she spoke to Gabriel.

_Cat's eyes_ , Lea thought, and couldn't help feeling a sudden distaste for cats.

"Such a wonderful castle," the woman continued. "And the grounds, they are cleverly designed."

Lea wasn't quite sure what that meant, but reminded herself to find out. It wouldn't do to fall into any death traps at this juncture.

"Tell me, Gabriel," Lilith said then. "When will we get to see the rest of Verlaine? Medonius has been waiting so many months for our journey to begin. Now that we are finally in the kingdom of the Amarinth heir..."

Lilith seemed to grow just that bit more arch, more glittering, and Lea's face turned puzzled as she watched the woman; how did she look so like – like she was _actually_ glowing?

"It is difficult to wait for permission to visit the kingdom proper," Lilith added.

While Lea ruminated on the words 'kingdom proper', Caleb muttered something decidedly unflattering to Starr about the foolishness of faeries. Lilith didn't seem to notice. She was too focused on raining more and more compliments on Gabriel and Verlaine.

"This is going to be a very long dinner," Caleb muttered, and turned back to Lea. "Does the main course not agree with you?"

"The main –" Lea glanced down once more, and went very still. Faint irritation flashed across her face. "Very funny, Caleb."

He must have helped the attendants serve her the main meal when she wasn't looking so that she'd think they were invisible or something. Lea dug into the roasted meat with ill grace.

"The same trick won't work with me again," she advised him tartly. "And I'm not in the mood for your odd sense of humour."

"I don't know what you're taking about," was Caleb's rather startled reply. His dark gaze flitted constantly to the other corner of the dining table, as though Lilith's presence next to his master was a persistent source of irritation.

Lea watched the apprentice with interest. "I didn't think you'd find someone you disliked more than me," she marvelled suddenly, and just had to shut her eyes as fragrant meat practically melted in her mouth. When Lea opened her eyes again, Caleb was still staring daggers at the woman he called 'faerie'.

"Your master won't tolerate your being rude to her for very much longer, you know," Lea remarked, and had the satisfaction of seeing Caleb's attention jerk back to her rather quickly. "Quite so."

"I would appreciate it if you kept your thoughts to yourself," he muttered, and nodded sharply to indicate she look across the table.

Lea's brows shot up as she watched the bony old Faderin see to his young charge. They were so quiet on their side of the table that she'd almost forgotten they were there.

"Sorry," she told Caleb in a softer voice. "I don't think they heard me, though."

His smile was a convincingly sardonic copy of his master's, and Lea was dismayed at the sudden flutter of nervousness in her stomach.

"I suggest you be silent on matters you obviously know nothing about," Caleb suggested while Lea stared frowningly at her food. "Faeries have excellent hearing. Even if we were whispering, they would probably catch every syllable of every word we said."

Lea caught her breath. For a moment, she could almost believe he was telling her the truth. But that was, of course, not possible. "Look, Caleb," she said suddenly, careful to keep her voice low so that Gabriel couldn't hear her. "I understand why you and the rest of the people in this castle say such things. You do not want to upset your master, not in his delicate state. But I –"

Caleb's mouth fell open. "Delicate – delicate _state_?" he stammered. His fork dropped with a clatter to his plate. "You think Gabriel's mad?" And he burst out laughing.

"Stop it," Lea hissed, dumbfounded when the apprentice's laughter grew even louder at the obvious fear in her voice. "What's so funny?"

"Mad," Caleb murmured through a little hiccup. "I suppose I should have expected that, but no one else has ever dared to suggest it." A badly hidden chortle escaped, and then another.

A sleek black head turned to them very briefly, and then Starr turned back to the others. Next to the panther, deep blue eyes flashed up briefly, rested on Lea's face, and then Caleb's bent head and shaking shoulders, before returning to Lilith.

"Shut up, Caleb," Lea said again, rather desperately this time. "He'll hear you." Her brief conversation with Gabriel earlier that evening came to her mind, together with his last words to her. "Shut _up_!"

"Oh, peasant girl, peasant girl," Caleb choked out as he wiped tears of laughter from his face. "You really are amusing sometimes. I can see why my master keeps you with us still."

She bit her lip, looked down to hide her fury. And her fear. "You're being – an ass."

He shook his head, a wide grin on his face as he looked at her. "I wondered why," he murmured, and shook his head again. "I suggest you do not repeat that remarkably silly assessment of my master's mental state to anyone else, peasant girl. Not to me. And especially not to him." His lips trembled once more.

_You can bet I won't_ , Lea thought grimly. "Caleb, if you dare laugh again I swear I'll stab you with this fork," she began. But whatever Lea was about to say next was lost in the sound of Lilith's laughing observation on the elegant design of the castle's inner courtyard.

Caleb's expression turned sour. "I don't see how you could possibly know so much about the castle," the apprentice said suddenly, and turned towards Lilith. "You haven't been here very long after all. You may grow to despise Verlaine in a few more days."

_"Caleb_ ," Starr growled.

"She's only been here two days," Caleb protested. "Even this one," he swept his hand in Lea's direction, "has been here longer than that – even if she was unconscious most of the time – and you can't get her to pay Verlaine a single compliment if you _actually_ paid her to."

Lea flushed at same time that Lilith did. "Well, I don't see what that has to do with anything," Lea muttered beneath her breath, and dared a swift glance in Gabriel's direction. Surely he wouldn't tolerate such a breach of etiquette from his apprentice.

To her surprise, there was the only the faintest of smiles on Gabriel's face as he raised his perpetually full glass of wine to his mouth; apparently, he didn't find Caleb's behaviour in the least bit objectionable.

"The least she could have done was give us more time to prepare the rooms," Caleb whispered to Starr in the meanwhile, "instead of arriving early when she'd already been told we would find it difficult to house all three of them."

The whisper had been so loud that Lea couldn't help hearing it. She nearly dropped her goblet of Ambershine. So, this was the real cause of the apprentice's irritation.

Lea watched in increasing amusement as Starr turned to Lilith with an apologetic look in her emerald eyes. "He's been out of sorts all day," the panther explained. "You must excuse his manners. A busy time of year, I'm afraid."

Caleb snorted. "Well, I –"

Where none could see except Lea and Caleb, a dark sleek paw lifted gently in the air, claws unsheathed, pointed eloquently to the left – in the direction of Caleb's rather bony thigh.

Lea bit her lip to keep from laughing and heard the apprentice draw in an indignant, rather nervous, breath.

"I suppose I have been busier than usual," he conceded in a mutter, and swatted that heavy paw away. He turned to Lilith. "Couldn't help hoping for a reprieve when our master informed us of your unexpected arrival yesterday, but I suppose we managed well enough."

Lilith's eyes turned to green slits in her beautiful face. "I do apologise for inconveniencing you, Caleb. But it has been my dream to come here since my cousin told me of its beauty and, of course," she glanced at Gabriel, "the beauty of its master."

For the second time, Lea had to set her goblet down before she could take a sip. She controlled her trembling lips with difficulty and glanced up at Gabriel in amusement – only to find those sapphire eyes already resting on her, languid and far too perceptive.

To her horror, Lea couldn't turn away from that lazy gaze. Her fingers curled into her palms. Her heart began to race. Vaguely, she registered the conversation between Caleb and Lilith turning yet more heated, barbs exchanged sharp and fast between them, with Starr patiently trying to interrupt the two. And still, Lea could only stare straight into dark blue eyes, held captive by some force she couldn't name.

_Look away_ , she pleaded to herself, and flushed slightly when she couldn't, when Gabriel continued to meet her gaze with that calm, quiet look on his face, as though he were reading quite leisurely every little thought passing through her mind. _Look away._

Just then, the volume of Lilith and Caleb's voices reached a new high. Starr growled out something quite threatening – _Hopefully_ , Lea thought at the back of her mind, _directed at Lilith_.

A ghost of a smile touched Gabriel's lips. He tipped his slim glass of Ambershine very lightly in Lea's direction before turning away from her, his attention returning to his other guests.

There was a remark or two that instantly diffused the tension in the room, though what he said Lea couldn't for the life of her make out. She found herself clenching the fingers of her left hand into a fist on her lap. It was inconvenient to be so affected by the magician in this way, especially when she didn't trust herself or her perceptions anymore.

Wary of looking Gabriel's way again, Lea glanced instead across the table at Medonius. The boy's attention wasn't on his mother or Caleb, as Lea'd half-expected it to be, given the heated exchange only seconds earlier. Instead, he was looking at Lea – with a rather speculative look on his sensitive face.

"Is your kingdom very far from Verlaine?" Medonius asked suddenly, and his voice was as melodious as his mother's, though just a bit softer.

"Not far at all," Lea replied carefully. "But not as near as I'd like, I must admit."

She watched as the boy's old carer sniffed in disdain. He turned to his food, openly ignoring her, wanting no part of this conversation. Lea's spine unconsciously stiffened. "We share our southern border with Verlaine," she continued. "So you could say that we are neighbours."

"But how did you come to be here?" was Medonius's next question, and Lea nearly groaned aloud. This was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

Mere minutes later, the boy was staring at her with wide eyes. "Bandits?" Medonius said in fascination. "We have bandits who steal magic in my world. Is that what your bandits do as well? Mother said this world is safe from such things, but if what you say is true..."

He sounded so pleased at the possibility that his mother had been misinformed that Lea almost didn't have the heart to disappoint him. "In Lorien," she observed apologetically, "they steal _things_. Not magic."

Medonius scrunched his nose in his elegant face, confused. After a moment, his expression cleared. "Do you mean things like amulets of great power?" he said hopefully. "Or scrolls with enchanted runes on them that have been lost for centuries?"

Lea blinked for a moment, then spotted the twinkle in those silvery-green eyes. "You're joking," she concluded, and laughed. "Well, I daresay that silks and spices are as valuable to us here as amulets and runes are in your world, so our bandits are much alike, I think." Wincing inwardly at the tenor of the conversation, Lea added a quiet, "How came you to Verlaine?"

"Oh, my aunt was Gabriel's guest many years ago," Medonius said, and Lea couldn't help smiling when she saw the excitement lighting the boy's eyes. "I have wanted to come for so long. She told my mother so many wonderful things of the kingdom of the Amarinth magi."

"What did she say?" Lea couldn't help asking, and it seemed Medonius was quite content to relate his aunt's tales. His manner was ingenuous and charming, and Lea found that she was unexpectedly enjoying herself despite the obviously impossible things Medonius was spouting so casually, so that the meal passed very quickly except for those odd moments when she would look up to find Gabriel observing her with an expressionless look back on his face.

When Lilith finally realised that her son was becoming too friendly with the non-magical human, they were already starting on the fifth course of the dinner. Medonius's conversation was subtly re-directed to Faderin, but Lea was left silent for only a short moment. Caleb turned to her almost immediately.

"You have a death wish, peasant girl," he whispered.

Lea stiffened. Could he be talking about what happened in the forest? But Gabriel had told her his apprentice wouldn't speak of it. "What – what do you mean?" Lea said at last, and took a hasty sip of Ambershine.

"It's not often that one sees a faerie rein in her displeasure where a non-magical being is concerned," Caleb explained and paused when Lea visibly relaxed. He added a sly, "But perhaps you realize now that none would dare harm you in Verlaine, is that it?"

Lea shrugged. "I'm not even talking to her. How could I displease her?"

"You speak to the faerie's son without permission," was Caleb's quiet reply. "It is a grave insult to speak to a faerie's child without first asking for permission. If the adult faerie is present, of course. Which in this case, she very much is."

Lea was quiet for a moment. "You really believe Lilith is a faerie?" she said finally. It was becoming harder and harder to imagine that Gabriel's entire castle was engaged in this odd conspiracy merely to humour him.

Caleb shrugged. "You would do better to ask me if I believe you are human."

"I don't know why I bother to question the things you say anymore," she observed. Her mouth curved in a small smile. "Except that it amuses me to see you rise to the bait so easily."

"As easily as you dismiss that which you fear," was Caleb's surprisingly calm response. "Your fear of the unknown is more amusing than you could possibly know." His eyes glinted with sudden humour. "I wonder if I shall tell my master what you called him tonight."

Lea's mouth hardened.

"Oh, I suppose I shall not," Caleb said thoughtfully. "I wouldn't want a fork stuck in my back when I'm not looking." He shook his head, dark eyes glinting down at her in amusement. "I did not know a human could look so deadly, especially one as – small as you."

It took a moment for her quick temper to cool enough for a reply. "I do not fear what is unknown," Lea announced haughtily, "let alone that which does not exist." But when Caleb only looked at her in pitying silence, Lea added in a defiant, low voice, "All right, where are Lilith's wings then?"

"Faeries can hide their wings if they want to." Caleb turned to survey Lilith broodingly. His own voice dropped an octave when he continued, "Sometimes I think they only do so in Verlaine because they're in a foreign land, a castle alien to them. Everyone knows how dangerous it would be to risk Gabriel's ire by attacking his other guests, but hiding their wings can also be beneficial in other ways; it can cloud the perception of possible enemies, for one. Knowing the nature of a being opens up possibilities that may not be to a faerie's benefit when they make enemies so easily with other creatures of magic."

Lea thought about that. "If they're so powerful, why are they so afraid of Gabriel then?" She shut her eyes briefly, opened them with a low, "If faeries do exist, I mean."

Caleb smiled softly. "Don't you know what Gabriel is, Lea Tornith?"

"A magician?" she said doubtfully.

"That is the name humans give such as him. I was merely being polite when I called him that in your presence, or you would not have understood."

"All right, all right," she said impatiently. "If he's not _really_ a magician, then what is he?"

"Magi," Caleb said softly, and there was such open reverence in his tone and expression that Lea was taken aback.

"What do you mean, magi?" she said aloud, casting a quick glance at Gabriel before turning back to his apprentice. "Medonius called him that just now too. Isn't that the same as being a magician?"

Caleb snorted. "They are nothing alike, save for superficial human mimicry. Magi are supposed to be part-human and part-faerie, but they are also something different. Something older than faerie. And more powerful. Much more powerful." He paused, and lowered his voice even more, "That is the only reason the faerie heed those of the Amarinth line. They fear anything that is more powerful than they are."

Lea wasn't quite sure what to say to this. Next to Caleb's explanation of what magi were, faeries seemed almost – dull. Finally, she whispered back, "I don't know what makes you think I'll believe all this."

"I don't think you will right now." Caleb shrugged. "But someone has to tell you the truth before you put your foot where your mouth is even more than you already do. Not even a reminder of my master's powers can constrain a faerie from losing their temper when their tolerance is pricked beyond bearing."

She thought about that for a moment, then sighed. "Well," Lea announced finally, and tipped her goblet in Lilith's direction, "if faeries do exist, I can believe she is one."

Caleb made a face. "Don't admire the creature, Lea. She is vain and proud, and has a dark heart, I'll wager."

Lea couldn't help feeling unsettled suddenly, as though the apprentice had somehow said something significant that she couldn't quite grasp hold of. She turned back to him with a frown.

"Lilith really dislikes me, doesn't she?" Lea said suddenly. "Maybe I'm just imagining things but her reaction to me seems... disproportionate for one who has just met a stranger at a solitary dinner. Even if I've been focusing too much of my time on her son, I can't help feeling that..." She paused, her eyes darting to Caleb and then back to her goblet. "I have the oddest feeling that I've insulted her somehow. Even before –" Surely this was silly paranoia on her part. She looked up again. "Even before I met her."

Unexpectedly, Caleb didn't look surprised by Lea's words, or contemptuous. Instead, he looked unusually serious.

"Your very existence insults her," he said after a moment. "Gabriel has allowed you – a non-magical being whom he did _not_ invite into his realm – his patronage. His protection of you equalises you with her, a being of magic who has carefully planned the acquisition of an invitation to this kingdom for much of five years now. In other words..." and a rather pleased smile rose to Caleb's lips, "your very presence here is a veritable thorn in her side, peasant girl. There's nothing you can do about it. You _have_ insulted her. You've insulted everything the faerie's people stand for and believe in. She will be glad to see the back of you."

Lea looked down at her bracelet again, then glanced at Lilith's wrist, around which was wrapped a similar slim, silver chain with that barest glitter of gemstones at its borders. Medonius and Faderin were similarly adorned. So, they'd been invited to enter this kingdom, had they? Unlike herself...

What had that to do with anything? Lea thought. It was not as though she _wanted_ to be here anyway. She rubbed her elegant bracelet absently. "I will be gone from Verlaine soon enough. Lilith has no need to envy me Gabriel's... protection."

"Maybe. But it might be wise not to bait her as you do my master." Caleb looked at Lilith, then back at Lea. "Like all creatures, there are good and bad faerie, but it can be impossible to find out which is which until it is too late. The fey are so changeable, so easily straddling the boundary of what is of darkness and what is of light," he explained, and slanted a nod at Gabriel. "Only my master seems to know their hearts right from the beginning. I've never known him to be wrong yet."

Lea frowned. "Does that mean they won't have to go through the –" What to call it? "– the vetting process like me?"

"Oh, no guest is exempt," Caleb assured her. "No matter faerie or human. They will have to prove themselves before they are allowed sanctuary in Verlaine for any length of time. An invitation is not a guarantee of acceptance for any guest."

"But," Lea said slowly, and suddenly something that had been simmering at the back of her mind rose to the front, "if some of your guests are, obviously, not from Lorien or Makliaven, where have they come from?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

She nodded.

"Not many human guests from Lorien or Makliaven believe it," he warned her.

"You have had others from Lorien and Makliaven here besides me and Cecily?" Lea asked at once, and found herself feeling a fool at the thought. Hadn't she already guessed that others had wandered into the forest before her and been forcibly detained in this place? The thought made her ask roughly, "Where are they?"

Luckily, Caleb didn't seem to notice the sudden harshness to Lea's voice. "Some stayed with us," he said. "I can introduce you to them if you like. Those who did not stay were sent back, either by choice or by force. You would be surprised to learn how many wanted to stay without an invitation." After a moment, he added, "Their memories of Verlaine were removed by my master, of course, before they were allowed to leave."

Lea went cold. Her eyes shifted to Gabriel. The dark haired man was saying something to Starr, his head tilted, his expression quizzical. His fingers were linked together idly to form a steeple, his posture relaxed, but something about him suddenly reminded Lea of Michael, and the ease and speed with which her cousin and mentor could uncoil from lazy to lethal.

With a hollow feeling in her chest, she turned back to Caleb. "What do you mean, their memories were removed? How were they removed?" It had to be a chemical agent of some kind. And if such existed, there must be an antidote, surely.

Caleb's lids dropped for a moment. Lea knew he was wondering if it was wise to explain his statement further. Finally, he said, "It may not come to that for you."

"But it also may," she pointed out, getting worried. "I mean... it _really_ may."

"I think we should not speak of this," Caleb replied after a brief, awkward silence. "Let me tell you where Lilith comes from."

Lea bit back a sharp retort. It would do no good to pursue the matter. Not tonight anyway. Caleb's expression was implacable; he still didn't trust her. Forcing a smile, Lea nodded reluctantly for him to continue. "Tell me then."

"There are many worlds. Many kingdoms."

"Inside Verlaine?"

Caleb shook his head. "Outside."

"There is only Lorien and Makliaven outside Verlaine."

"Outside Lorien, Makliaven and Verlaine."

After a moment, Lea smacked the flat of her palm lightly against her forehead. "Ah, yes, of course, _those_ outside worlds."

For once, Caleb didn't push her to accept his words. Instead, he continued quietly, "There are many worlds outside our own, Lea. Worlds with, and without, magic. Some of those worlds have portals that are connected to Verlaine."

"Portals?"

"Doorways," he explained. "Doorways of magic. It's uncertain when they were built or by whom, but our castle is filled with more of them than any realm or kingdom I know of."

He paused, eyes quiet on Lea's face. Her expression had turned rather stony, but when she didn't interrupt him, Caleb continued, "Some of the people from other worlds come here by accident through the portals, others by choice, most by invitation." He took a breath. "But far too many with not always the best of intentions."

What did that mean? "Why, what do they want?" Lea said slowly.

Caleb shrugged. "Power. Wealth. A chance to travel to other less sophisticated realms where they might rule over others or enslave them to do their bidding... Who knows what people want? They're a mystery to me at the best of times, let alone the worst." He pursed his lips. "You understand now why we have to vet any who enter the castle or the forest. It is not only those from Lorien or Makliaven who could be a threat to us."

Lea stared at Caleb blankly. After a moment, she grabbed her now empty goblet and gestured towards the decanter, still filled to the brim despite the constantly refilled goblets at the table. The thought reminded her that she still hadn't caught sight of the servers who must be attending to the diners, and everyone was well into their sixth course now. Bleakly, Lea said, "Your kingdom's Ambershine is a very useful drink, isn't it?"

A slow grin formed on Caleb's face as he passed her the decanter. "You're beginning to believe, aren't you? Peasant girl."

"Stop calling me that." Downing nearly her whole goblet's worth of the amber liquid, Lea nodded. "It helps that people keep staring at me with pure hatred every time I object to the existence of magic." She refilled her goblet once more, licked her lips once she'd drained the crystal of its glistening intoxicant. "I see why some find this so – addictive a pastime." She tipped her goblet in the decanter's direction yet again. "More please."

Caleb murmured something, but she couldn't quite make out what he said. His face was suddenly hazy to Lea's eyes. She watched with beetled brows as the apprentice turned to Starr and said something. The panther looked at Lea.

"Don't drink so much of the Ambershine," Starr said softly. "It has enhanced properties. The spirits of Lorien and Makliaven are akin to fruit juice next to it."

But when Lea simply refilled her crystal goblet without a word, Starr clucked disapprovingly and turned to her fellow apprentice. "Take her back to her room, Caleb. Neither of you want to be here, I know. And you have stayed long enough for Gabriel to be pleased with you."

He made a face. "I can't disagree with that."

As Lea watched, blurry-eyed, Caleb made an imperceptible gesture that somehow caught Gabriel's attention. Something unspoken seemed to pass between them, and Lea had the strangest feeling they were speaking with their minds. Suddenly, Caleb grabbed Lea's arm very firmly. "Let's go. I have work to do, and you are about to pass out."

And so, the dinner finally came to an end. Lea, swaying slightly as she left the table, was assured of having earned at least one small friend in Medonius, one unexpected friend in Caleb and one enemy in Lilith.

Of her relationship with Gabriel Amarinth, Lea dared not attach any label.
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Chapter 18

To Lea's annoyance, Caleb took an absurdly winding route back to her wing of the castle.

"I took longer – getting to dinner," she complained, and nearly tripped over her own legs. "I can't believe you're still – playing these c-childish games!"

"For the sake of –!" Caleb caught her to him before she could hit the ground, muttered some curses she couldn't quite catch.

"What's that – about him?" Lea demanded suddenly.

Caleb propped her into a standing position, and flung her arm over his shoulder, half-dragging her along with him. "What about who?"

"Him. The great maaaaaa-gi...." She drew the word out in a low intonation, and let out a hiccupping giggle. "You said something 'bout him."

"No, I didn't," Caleb said curtly, and cursed again. "I'll never let you touch another drop of Ambershine for as long as you live."

"Yes, you will. _He'll_ make you." Lea frowned. "Magician... Illusionist... Pah... Mister high and mighty – Amarinth charlatan!"

"Don't call him that," Caleb warned.

But Lea hardly heard him. She was falling asleep on her feet, so that Caleb had to push and pull her along with him as they made their way through tall glass doors and into a small elegant room much like the drawing rooms littering the older homes in Lorien. There was only a moment for Lea's blurry eyes to glance about the place, and then they were out in a castle corridor again. Her legs buckled gently.

"Good grief," Caleb gasped, stumbling as he dragged her along with him. "You're heavier than you look, you stupid girl!"

Lea managed a sleepy grin. "Sorry."

"I can't believe he's making me do this," Caleb mused.

"Whose... zat?"

"My master," Caleb practically growled out. "Don't know – what he's thinking. Just – shut up and walk."

"You can't talk to me," Lea turned awkwardly to face him, and poked Caleb hard in the shoulder, "like that."

She watched in delight as the apprentice went a near purple with annoyance, before propping her once more against his ill-treated shoulder. He moved forward without a word.

"Where we going? About to – pass out," she reminded him in a slurring mumble.

"Just need to pick up something from the library," Caleb muttered, and thankfully arrived at the place just then. "Thank the gods, every single pantheon of them." He set Lea down on a small wooden bench in the carpeted corridor just outside the library, and glanced inside, a small frown on his face. She thought she heard him mutter, "Where _is_ he?"

"Who?"

Caleb looked down at her in surprise, almost as though he'd forgotten she was there. "Er, nobody."

"You said 'where is he?'" Lea explained in a passable imitation of his voice. She watched with interest as Caleb took in a breath, obviously struggling to keep his temper. "Well?"

"The librarian," he said at last.

"Going to get you – into trouble – someday," she murmured in a sing-song tone.

"What is?"

"Temper, temper," Lea announced, and shook a finger right under Caleb's startled nose. " _I_ know."

"I'll be back in a minute," was all he could say after that piece of wit, then paused, doubt crossing his features. "You're not going to fall over or anything, are you?"

Lea gave a contented sigh and shook her head. "It's very – nice," she declared.

He didn't bother to ask what was. "Just stay here," Caleb instructed her in a resigned tone, and walked away.

Lea leaned back against the stone wall and closed her eyes. Quiet filled the corridor. Ten minutes later, she straightened in her seat and shifted restlessly, opening her eyes. Where was Caleb? The lamps flickered in their sconces, and she tapped her foot against the soft carpet. "Cold," Lea grumbled and blinked at the sconces. When she looked down, she thought she saw movement in the far corner. "Is that – you?" she called out loudly, turning to her left, and added as an afterthought, "Caleb?"

Only silence replied her.

"All right, I'll make my own way – damn way – back then," she murmured, yawning, and got to her feet. "Stupid apprentice... Keeping people – waiting like – this. So," she shook her head, " _rude_."

Stumbling as she went, Lea made her way down the corridor, and then another corridor, and then yet another. At odd moments, she stumbled around to face yawning hallways already traversed, certain Caleb was walking behind her, but no one was there.

"Trying to scare me," she muttered to herself. "Stupid apprentice. I'm not afraid – of you."

One hand on grey stone, she walked and walked, and finally spied a familiar wooden door set into the wall, its golden knob winking at her. Three steps more and Lea was wearily turning that golden knob, praying she'd reached the right room.

She stumbled onto a small balcony.

Cold wind cut across her startled face. She had a brief glimpse of a dark night filled with white hot stars, and then there was the feel of a hard shove to the small of her back; Lea hurtled forward toward the balcony's thin black iron railing.

Her soft, startled gasp became a cry of fear – that glimpse of night sky turned upside down as she toppled over the railing, hands flailing desperately.

"Quick, catch her!"

The shrill cry was followed by a sharp, merciless pull on Lea's left wrist. Wrenching pain burst in the joint, flew up her arm to her shoulder – she came fully alert with a pained gasp, was pulled up and over cold railings in a single giant heave, and found herself on firm ground once more. Her legs buckled. She sprawled in an ungainly heap on the cold stone floor.

"You little fool!"

Lea blinked, stared up dazedly into Caleb's black eyes. The expression in them was sheer fury.

"What were you thinking?" he hissed through his teeth. "You _foolish_ idiot."

Lea forbore informing him that idiots would out of necessity have to be foolish. She watched as the furious youth glanced over his shoulder at the sheer drop to the gardens below, fingers clenched at his sides. Lea reluctantly followed his gaze. She turned quite pale, barely felt the caress of cold, swirling winds on her face and hands, blowing her curls into her eyes. She brushed her hair away absently. This balcony was placed so high up the castle walls, nestling just below the towering ramparts. How had she gotten here?

Shaken, Lea stared at Caleb as the apprentice turned back to her.

"Of all the..." His dark eyes were blazing with a strange, dangerous light. "I _told_ you to wait for me."

"You took too long," Lea muttered, closing her eyes again. She became aware of a faint ache in her left arm. "I think you might have dislocated my shoulder."

At once, Caleb crouched down before her. He ran his fingers expertly over her shoulder and wrist. "It's just a sprain," he concluded, and glanced at someone standing behind him. "Don't worry, Fringe. You didn't really hurt her. She'll be fine. That was quick thinking." Turning back to Lea, Caleb said very distinctly, "You will never again, and I mean _never_ again, take shortcuts through the castle when you're drunk. Do you understand?"

"I'm not drunk," she protested, and stumbled unresistingly to her feet as Caleb helped her up. The apprentice gripped her with surprising strength, propped her against his shoulder like he'd done earlier, and she took in a sudden trembling breath, helplessly aware of an unexpected urge to throw her arms around his neck and hold tightly to him for comfort.

"And I didn't take any – shortcuts," Lea remarked at last. She thought about that for a moment. Absently, "I think someone _pushed_ me."

"I wouldn't blame them if they did," Caleb muttered. "At this point, I believe I would push you over a balcony myself if I could. Come _on_. I don't have all night, Lea."

He held her to him very gently but firmly, and Lea blinked at the casual strength in the arm around her waist.

"You've had a lucky escape tonight," Caleb continued. "If not for Fringe you would be dead."

"I'm too heavy for you," she muttered, and planted her feet. She didn't want to fall down again. "I'll walk on my own."

"Don't be silly," Caleb replied, his voice very fierce, and tugged her forward so strongly that – for the barest moment – Lea thought her feet left the ground.

She blinked, a startled frown coming to her eyes. "I said, I'll walk."

"Just put your arm over my shoulder. We'll be in your room soon enough."

"No, I don't want to fall again."

"Put your arm over my shoulder."

"No!"

_"Don't_ argue with me."

"I'm not arguing. Caleb, _stop_ it."

There was the sound of heavy footsteps behind them. "I can take her, Master Caleb."

A quiet pause fell. Lea had the oddest feeling Caleb didn't want to hand her to the person who'd spoken. But she must have been mistaken, because he said only, "Thanks, Fringe." He nodded at that mysterious someone, now on Lea's right. "Here, be careful."

Abruptly, she felt herself swept up into large, strong arms. Her eyes widened at the sight of the uncommonly broad face belonging to the very, very tall man who was carrying her down the corridor while Caleb led the way with brisk steps.

"You're not from Verlaine, are you?" the young giant whispered, glancing down at his feather-light burden. Big brown eyes spotted her bracelet, then looked warily into Lea's face. "You are not faerie though. Or giant like me. Are you magi, like Gabriel Amarinth?"

Lea snorted rather inelegantly. "I'm just an ordinary human."

Fringe looked startled. "Ordinary? Human?"

"I know," Lea murmured. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"Oh," Fringe said in his deep voice. "I'm not disappointed. I have stayed in my chamber for much of this visit, and have not met any other ordinary humans."

"You're not missing much," she admitted sleepily. "Compared to everyone else in this place, we're very dull."

"I am sure you are mistaken, or the Amarinth heir would not have invited you into his kingdom."

"He didn't," Lea muttered beneath her breath. But she let the rest of Fringe's words go unchallenged. She could not accuse him of catering to Gabriel's delusions, not when she was beginning to doubt they were in fact delusions.

"Maybe you will find out some day that you are not ordinary," Fringe continued. "Most giants do before their third birthday. And not because we become so much stronger either."

Lea found herself smiling at that. "Being strong sounds good enough to me," she remarked.

"Being wise would be better," Fringe said in the solemn tone of a vow.

Another snort answered this statement.

"You do not believe me," Fringe stated, and his mouth drooped in a sad little moue that sat oddly on his large face.

He looked so endearing in his disappointment that Lea found herself reassuring him quickly, "It's not that I don't believe you, it's just that –" She paused, and found she didn't know what to say.

"You do not agree with me," Fringe remarked suddenly. "I have heard that many humans do not believe in acquiring wisdom over strength."

Lea smiled wryly. "I cannot disagree with that."

"You are not ordinary, human," Fringe said. "You are honest. Honesty is not a quality to be found in many creatures of intelligence. Perhaps you are mistaken in the judgment of your own kind."

That surprised her. Lea couldn't keep her smile from deepening. The easy acceptance by this giant of a man felt like a balm to her soul after all the suspicions and doubts she'd faced since she got here. Lea looked up at the large man holding her so carefully in his arms. "Why do you say being wise is better than being strong?" she said at last. "Isn't it strength that wins most battles?"

"If you truly believed that," Fringe remarked. "You must not have won many battles."

She opened her mouth, closed it without a word.

"Or," Fringe said softly, "you have won too many battles to think much on how you did so."

"I am not a wise person," Lea said simply. "I never have been."

Fringe's lips stretched into a wide smile. "You must be very wise indeed if you can admit you are not wise."

Lea laughed suddenly, and leaned back against him. "You know," she confided, "I think I like you."

"Thank you," Fringe replied. "I believe I like you too, ordinary human."

"Thank you," she said cheerfully.

"You are welcome." Fringe inclined his head. "You are very small for a human."

"You are very large for a giant," she commented.

"You have not met many giants," Fringe replied wisely and that was the end of their conversation.

Caleb had come to a noisy room, its thick wooden door flung wide open so that Lea could see a party of large people having dinner in a broad hall. "I hope you've enjoyed your stay thus far, Fringe?" Caleb enquired politely. "You know you have only to inform us if you require anything?"

The giant nodded with care as he held Lea to him. "I will go in to dinner after taking the human back to her room."

Caleb smiled in polite reply, but the gesture was so lacking in warmth that Lea caught back a startled breath – it was so unlike the usually brooding apprentice to look so threatening. Did he not like her giant for some reason?

"As you wish," was all Caleb said however. He reached in and closed the door to the giants' dining room.

In the very next second, Caleb re-opened the same door. A world of gold and pink filled Lea's sight; she was looking into her own room. Her vision swam. She nearly gagged. "That's – impossible," Lea muttered, and stiffened.

"Do not fear, small one. We're almost there." Fringe bent down and stuffed himself through her doorway with some difficulty. He walked to her bed, deposited Lea on it while she blinked up at him with large eyes in a white face. Her right hand was promptly enfolded in a very large palm, before being shaken carefully.

"Goodnight, human," Fringe said in his slow way. "I hope we will meet again."

"I hope so too," Lea said awkwardly, trying to still the wild beating of her heart. Had she imagined what had just happened? "And I believe you," she blurted out suddenly, in a small whisper so that Caleb couldn't hear; it might be petty but somehow she felt like this conversation was not for others. "I have never won a battle purely on strength, giant. Though sometimes – sometimes I wish it were so simple."

Fringe smiled again, his large grey eyes gentle on hers. "Rest well, ordinary human. I am certain the Amarinth heir will require both wisdom and strength from you by the morrow."

He walked out of the room, shutting the door quietly.

Caleb shook his head at Lea. "If you have no head for drink, Lea Tornith, you should know better than to imbibe spirits so freely." When she didn't reply, he came closer, "Lea?"

But her head had already fallen to the pillow, her eyes closed before she could form a reply.

"What am I going to do with you, Lea Tornith?" she heard Caleb whisper then, his voice oddly gentle. "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

And his fingers carefully pushed strands of hair away from her face so that she could feel the cool breeze pouring into the room before sleep claimed her.
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Chapter 19

For the third time in the same number of days, Lea woke up feeling alert and refreshed. The sensation was still so unusual that for a moment she could only stare blankly at the cream ceiling, wondering why she felt so good.

"No nightmares." The words slipped out of her in a kind of emotionless whisper, and then she turned to the side and shut her eyes tightly, willing the tears not to leak out onto the pillows. They didn't obey.

It was some time later that Lea finally got out of bed. Her head was pounding from the effects of last's night's excesses, today's tears, and she mechanically went through her preparations, taking care to ensure her tear-stained face was wiped clean, cooled with towels dipped in cold water so that no one would guess she'd just endured an uncustomary bout of weeping. She'd fallen asleep in the clothes she'd worn at dinner last night and they were hopelessly creased; there was no choice but to guiltily pick out another lavish ensemble from the generous array in her cupboard.

A dark blue jacket with delicate lace ruffles of the same colour completed today's light grey suit. And then, Lea was left wondering what there could possibly be for her to do today.

A glance at her recently acquired timepiece showed that she'd slept past noon yet again. The weather was dull outside her open windows. It must have rained earlier in the day, or would later on. Thick clouds painted the sky's surface a gloomy grey.

Lea let out a low sound of dissatisfaction. She would have welcomed some time out of the castle today. At this rate, the week would be over with her no closer to accomplishing anything – besides convincing everyone of her apparent ineptitude, of course.

"I think I actually – _giggled_ last night," she remembered and shuddered. There was a vague recollection of last night's dinner with the green-eyed woman Caleb called faerie, some large goblets of Ambershine being flung down her throat, and then a stumbling walk back to her room.

"Or was it to a balcony?"

Lea frowned. Her fingers rose involuntarily to feel her left shoulder. It was sore, achy, as though recovering from a nasty twist. She hauled in a sudden breath.

"Somebody pushed me over the railing."

The words came out through her teeth. Who'd saved her? Caleb? No, not him. A very large man, Lea remembered – whose name she couldn't recall. She'd liked him though; that she did remember.

Stuffing her feet back into her uncomfortable shoes, Lea left her room with tired steps. Her progress down the corridor was arrested after only a few seconds. Pausing on the thick red carpet, Lea's brows beetled as she tried to pinpoint the source of what was most certainly – someone weeping?

The room next to hers, Lea concluded in surprise. It hadn't occurred to her to that the room next door might be occupied; everything had been so quiet the past two days that she'd assumed hers to be the lone room housing a guest on this particular corridor.

The sound of weeping became intermingled with sniffles and sharp little coughs. Whoever resided behind the heavy door was obviously trying to rein in their sorrow.

It was the person's small but valiant effort to stop crying that made Lea stay in place. "I'm not good at this," she murmured after a moment, and pursed her lips. "I don't know how to deal with – tears."

She hesitated, turned away. All she wanted to do was walk on. But there was that sniffling sound once more, and something inside Lea suddenly softened. Before she could change her mind, she raised a gently curled fist and rapped twice on the door.

There was the sound of someone's soft gasp and then a hurried rush of feet, and the grating movement of something being dragged across the floor.

Lea couldn't stop the small smile that curved her lips as she put her ear to the door. Obviously, whoever had been weeping with such abandon had a strong need to preserve her dignity before others. "But I wonder what it is she's dragging all over the place."

The dragging sound finally stopped. Lea knocked once more.

"Come in." The voice of the room's occupant trembled with fear, but was rather haughty too, and Lea abruptly hesitated. There was something about that voice...

"I said, come in!" called out that voice, quite imperiously this time. "I don't have all day!"

An expression of horror descended on Lea's features. "Oh no." Hastily, she drew back, then limped to the end of the corridor. She was just in time.

As Lea rounded the corner, a slender figure in a dishevelled gown threw her door open. Mutinous eyes the colour of a light blue firmament swept the empty corridor. A pouty rosebud mouth pursed in displeasure.

"Well, that's not very funny!" Cecily Fortuna's shrill voice burst into the silence. "You'll be sorry! I'll find out who you are, and then you'll be sorry! Do you hear me?"

How could she not? That high voice carried all the way down the corridor to where Lea stood huddled against the wall. She shuddered, hurriedly drew back even further to ensure Cecily wouldn't see her. Lea half expected the stupid girl to walk down the corridor to try and spot the person who'd interrupted her moment of self-pity, but there was the sudden crash of the girl's door slamming shut. The loud sound reverberated threateningly through the corridor.

Lea waited until the silence stretched her patience, then warily peeped around the corner. She breathed a sigh of relief. That had been too close.

Relief was abruptly replaced by an emotion far warmer. Her face turned grim. Lea set off to find a certain dark-eyed apprentice.

"But where is he?" Lea demanded. "I need to talk to him about Cecily."

Caleb rolled his eyes. "I don't see what good that would do. Gabriel isn't going to change his mind, peasant girl, so don't waste your breath." He was sitting on the laboratory's window-seat, making notes on an archaic looking piece of parchment as he read through one of the thickest books Lea had seen in her life. It was bound in plain brown leather, and looked so well-used she was surprised the yellowed pages didn't come apart under Caleb's bony fingers.

"Nevertheless, Gabriel said I could see him whenever I wanted to," Lea remarked.

"I doubt that."

"And I want to see him _now_. Caleb!"

He closed the book with a snap, sat up very straight. Caleb screwed up his face as he announced in a nasal tone, "I will _not_ have her in the room next to mine. We have a _history_. Don't you _understand_? I _must_ have what I want or I will _burst_ into a _million_ self-indulgent little _pieces_."

The impression was so unexpected that Lea was utterly speechless. She stared at Caleb open-mouthed. He returned her stare with a cool one of his own.

"Well," Lea said at last. "I – I – That is, I –"

"I, I, I," Caleb repeated in agreement, and snorted. "It's a wonder you see anything else when your vision is fixed so determinedly on yourself."

Lea's lips pursed in displeasure. "That's not fair," she said at last, and studied the dark head bent once again over its book. "Look, like I told you... Cecily and I – we just don't get along. Never have. I'm sure she wouldn't want the room next to me either if she knew I was there."

"Uh-huh."

"I've already explained all this to Gabriel," Lea added. "He must have forgotten, that's all. If you'll just tell me where he _is_..."

"Away."

Lea gritted her teeth. "Yes, you said. But when will he be back?"

"Later."

"When later?" she said patiently.

"When you no longer wish to abuse his ears with this nonsense," Caleb said sweetly and smiled.

"This isn't nonsense." Lea bit her lip. "Look, the castle is full of empty rooms. I'm sure Gabriel wouldn't mind if you moved her to one of those?" _Better yet another wing._ "I mean, you do handle the room arrangements and such, don't you? You said you did for Lilith."

There was a grudging flicker of appreciation in his eyes. "Nice try. But it won't work."

"Why not?" Lea shrugged. "Gabriel doesn't even have to know. I'm sure he doesn't concern himself with such details."

"Ha." He glanced up with raised brows. "Keep telling yourself that, peasant girl. He won't let us move her."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one thing," Caleb said serenely. "She arrived here before you did."

"Oh." Lea hadn't thought of that. "Well, can't _I_ move then?"

He raised his head with a sigh. "Look, I don't like the girl any more than you do," Caleb said frankly. "She makes me want to slap some sense into her. Unfortunately, I can't do that." He pointed his quill at Lea. "Neither can you. So, I suggest you find some way to make your peace with her."

The thought of making peace with a girl who blubbered constantly like a faulty watering pot was enough to make Lea shudder delicately. "Look, I just need you to tell me where Gabriel is," Lea tried again, coaxingly this time. Her leg was aching once more, badly enough that she was forced to lean carefully against the edge of the laboratory table. "I'm sure that once I've reminded your master about –"

"Lea Tornith, do you not understand as yet how my master works?" Caleb interrupted acidly. "It is precisely because of what you told him that he has placed Cecily Fortuna in the room next to yours. It is a test – for you _and_ for her."

The words rang through the quiet white laboratory like a badly veiled threat.

Lea went pale. "You mean... You mean, she wasn't there before? He did this on purpose?" _I knew it._

"There you go again," Caleb observed with some interest.

"Eh?"

"You have that 'I must commit assault but I will enjoy it' look on your face."

She had the grace to look guilty, firmly lifted a small chin. "It's not just a childish vendetta that lies between us, Caleb," Lea said at last. "Cecily's family... They treated me very badly once. It is not something I can forget."

Caleb looked as if he wanted to make one of his usual mocking remarks, but perhaps the look on Lea's face made him think twice because he hesitated, then reluctantly put his book down once more. "What happened?"

Lea shook her head. "It doesn't matter." A wan smile came to her lips. "It's in the past."

"Well, it's obviously something you never put behind you," Caleb pointed out, and there was a flicker of concern in those dark eyes. "Tell me what happened."

It was the touch of sympathy in the apprentice's voice that made Lea fill with guilt. She hesitated – Cecily's only vice after all was that she had entered this place at the same time as Lea herself – but forced herself to continue in a soft, wistful tone, "I haven't talked about it to anyone for... for forever. I _can't_ talk about it, Caleb."

"That bad, huh?" He leaned back against cool white brick, the back of his head resting on the window sill. A thoughtful look entered his eyes. "You should tell Gabriel that her presence disturbs you beyond, as you put it, the matter of childish vendettas. Maybe he will reconsider his decision to move her."

She nodded her head, just a bit sadly. "Yes, that is why I wish to speak to him. Although, now that I think about it, maybe he didn't forget what I'd told him. Maybe he just didn't take me seriously the last time." She glanced up at Caleb through her lashes.

"But if _I_ spoke to him maybe he would?" Caleb guessed, and shook his head silently. "I might have known you were up to something." His dark gaze returned with a snap to the book on his lap.

Lea bit her lip. "Fine, don't help me then," she said at last. "I should have known you didn't trust me either. Just like your precious master." She swung around in annoyance.

"Would it make a difference if I tell you she saved your life?"

"Eh?" Lea pivoted on her heel. "Why would you say something like that?"

He wrote something on his piece of parchment in quick strokes, dark eyes focused absently on his book. "You almost fell over a balcony last night. Do you remember?"

She coloured at once. "I don't see what Cecily had to do with that." Lea's face darkened. "Unless she was the one who pushed me over it."

"She didn't. Cecily _stopped_ you going over it."

Lea's eyes narrowed on that dark, bent head. "Is this another of one of your games?"

It was his turn to frown. "Games?" Caleb remarked, and looked up with a quizzical brow. "What do you mean 'games'?"

"A man stopped me going over. I may have been a bit tipsy but I remember that quite well. Cecily was nowhere near."

"Let me make a few corrections to your version of events," he drawled, "considering that you were _extremely_ 'tipsy' last night."

"I don't need you to 'correct my version of events'," Lea remarked in annoyance. "That man – I forget his name – he pulled me back."

"Fringe is a giant, not a man. He wouldn't like to hear you call him human, Lea," Caleb said quietly, "even if you wish to believe he is."

She swept up an impatient hand, but he forestalled her. "He was talking to Cecily in a corridor just outside that balcony when you fell over the rail. She was facing you, saw what happened; she called out for Fringe to catch you before you went over completely. If she hadn't had the presence of mind to do that, not even the giant could have caught you in time." Caleb crossed his arms at his chest. "And don't tell me I'm lying because I'm not."

Lea felt a protest welling up in her chest, but some part of her remembered now that initial shout, high and loud, when she'd first stumbled against the ebony railings of that high balcony. Her eyes flickered with horror. There was only one person she knew who possessed such a shrill voice. Cecily Fortuna... saved her life?

"I can't believe this," she said finally. That silly, vapid girl had saved _Lea_? "But she's a fool!" Lea burst out. "She's such an idiot!"

"Peasant girl," Caleb said softly. "Why do you dislike the countess so much? I don't think she's capable of any harm at all to anyone, even if she actually wanted to harm them." He shrugged, and tapped the side of his head with a long finger. "You know as well as I: empty."

Lea blinked. Her lips twitched. "Unkind, Caleb."

"But true."

"Well, in that case," she conceded, "perhaps 'empty' is an understatement."

His lips curved. "But why then, peasant girl, are you so jealous of her?"

She stared at him in stunned silence. "I'm _not_ jealous," Lea said at last.

"Yes, you are." Caleb's grin deepened. "Any fool could see that, including Cecily."

"Don't be stupid," she growled.

"It can't be her brains," he mused, dark eyes fixed on Lea's irritated face. "Or lack of. Nor her accomplishments – from what I understand, she hasn't many." A small pause. "Other than her looks, of course."

Lea compressed her lips. "I'm going for a walk," she announced.

Suddenly, Caleb let out a short bark of laughter. "By all the gods," he marvelled. "You hate that she's prettier than you!"

"You're being a fool," Lea growled. She turned away, and paused. "Where's that stupid door?"

"She probably gets away with things even you can't get away with," Caleb continued thoughtfully from his cosy seat. "That must be galling. Especially for someone like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You seem so – certain of your abilities."

Lea's lips compressed even more into a straight thin line. Her hands traced the white wall gently. Where was that damned door?

"You won't find it until I want you to," came a soft murmur from behind her.

"All right," she said finally, and turned around with her hands on her hips. "All right. I'll admit that it's annoying that she can never seem to do anything wrong in anyone's eyes. Just a look at those big blue eyes and – heaven forbid – the sight of a few pretty tears, and _everything_ ," Lea said fiercely, "is promptly forgiven. The most useless, brainless little... But she's always forgiven. Even when Cecily slapped that child yesterday –"

Caleb's expression sobered at once. "Gabriel told me what happened."

_I bet he did._ "And did your master tell you how remarkably unfair he was in his treatment of the countess?" Lea remarked. "And by 'unfair', I mean that he saw exactly what happened, and yet he did not punish her for starting the whole thing and blaming it on her maid. Not even," she raised her fingers in a dainty mockery of a pinch, "a smidgen."

"Is that what you think?" He sent her an odd look. "Not that Gabriel need report his decisions to you, but it's pretty common knowledge that he always picks the right remedy for all situations."

Lea's smile was sardonic. "Your definition of 'right remedy' and mine appear to be vastly different. From what I know, all Cecily received for her trouble were words of comfort and an afternoon of bed rest. Poor countess."

A wicked grin flashed across Caleb's face. "O envy, thy name is Lea. Oh, wait," he said as she turned back to look for the laboratory exit. "Look, I probably shouldn't be spreading this about but – my master has forced Cecily to serve as a maid to her actual maids."

For a moment, Lea thought she'd misheard him. She turned to Caleb at once. "Say that again."

"Cecily's a servant."

"A – servant?"

"For a week at least."

"A week?" Lea squeaked.

"Stop repeating what I say," Caleb said in annoyance. "Yes, a week. She's been washing her maids' dishes and darning their clothes and pressing their sheets all night." He paused. "I think she's even been made to wear the clothes Anne was wearing when she first got here."

Even the mention of the traitorous maid couldn't distract Lea. "I don't believe you," she said in a shocked voice. Cecily – a servant? But that would explain the girl's bout of sobbing earlier...

Lea's eyes opened wide with awe. "How did Gabriel get her to agree?" she demanded.

Caleb snorted. "My master can be very persuasive when he wants to be. Cecily had no real choice in the matter, not if she wanted to keep her things and her comfortable accommodation, let alone return to her own little keep in Lorien anytime soon."

"Oh," Lea said slowly, and frowned. Very slowly, her frown turned upside down. " _Oh_. What a perfect punishment!"

"I told you, Gabriel knows what he's doing."

Lea's smile faded. She hesitated. "Were you serious about what you said earlier? Did Cecily really save my life last night?"

"Yes. That fall would have made a quick end to you, peasant girl, if the countess hadn't seen you. You should be more careful."

She grimaced, turned away. "It looks like I owe her then," Lea murmured beneath her breath. "Damn it." She looked up suddenly. "What about Fringe? How long will he be staying in Verlaine?"

There was the slightest of pauses, enough to make Lea glance at Caleb in question. "Caleb?"

"Oh, the giant will not be in the castle for a time," he said at last, and seemed quite lost in his work once more.

"Not in the castle," she echoed, and frowned in puzzlement. "Why not?"

There was a shrug of bony shoulders. "He had things to do."

_"Outside_ the castle," she said sceptically. "He told me he'd been keeping to his rooms all this time. Why would he leave now?" She paused, looked down in confusion. "At least, I think that's what he said."

"He did," Caleb confirmed. "But that was only because he was waiting for permission to use the castle portals. He received my master's permission this morning, left immediately after to visit some old friends." Up flashed those dark eyes. "I don't believe they will be back for a week, at least. Longer, most likely."

"A week?" Lea's face fell. "I was hoping to spend more time with him."

Caleb glanced at her. "Fringe is a giant, you know. Someone far larger than you. Not human. Are you certain you can cope with that knowledge?"

She compressed her lips. "Anyway –"

"You won't be able to deny the truth for much longer," Caleb murmured, those dark eyes mocking again. "Poor little peasant girl."

"I'm not denying anything," Lea protested in annoyance, and turned around again. "I'm just – oh. Here it is."

"Shut the door on the way out, will you? I've been disturbed by your presence for long enough." Down bent that black head once more. "Humans. I'll never understand them."
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Chapter 20

It was with trepidation that Lea finally set foot on the outer reaches of the castle grounds. And it was with reluctant steps that she made her way to the green maze she'd spotted outside her window the first morning she'd woken up in this Grey Castle.

Once she'd reached the entrance of that sprawling labyrinth however, Lea paused. The maze wasn't the reason she'd come here today. Instead, with a determined nod, Lea took a breath and turned around. Her eyes lifted up.

And up.

Her heart sank like a stone. Her legs gave out beneath her. "Oh no."

The green grass was fresh and warm to the touch despite the cloudy day. Lea wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting here, absently tearing out tiny tufts of grass as she kept her eyes on the remarkable sight before her: the tall length of a lone grey tower rose high above the castle ramparts and turrets, closing in tighter and tighter circles until it formed a spiralling, pointed spire of brick and shining stone reaching up to an equally grey sky.

Lea closed her eyes. A third tower. A third _kingdom_. Gabriel had been telling the truth.

"What do I do now?"

The question hung thin and miserable in the air. Things shouldn't be different, Lea reminded herself with difficulty. Why should they be different simply because she'd finally had the courage to test Gabriel's words for herself?

Because if he wasn't lying about this, he might not have been lying about everything else.

She began to tremble. A world of magic, with creatures of magic... Oh, the power they must hold here...

"No, it's not possible," she said loudly, and forced herself up on shaky legs. "So, there is a grey tower. So what? The rest isn't possible. It isn't possible. It isn't _possi_ –"

She bit her lip, shook her fisted hands gently by her sides as she tried to compose herself.

"This means nothing," Lea declared at last. "You can still find a way out of here. Just a few more days, and you'll be able to ride. Get a horse, cut through the forest to Lorien's side of the border. Just find out what you can before you leave. The strength of their armies. Yes. And the powers they wield. And then –" She let out an unsteady breath. "Get out."

Something warm and soft rubbed up against her leg.

With a frightened shout, Lea stumbled to the side. She sat with a thump on the firm hillock, and caught a glimpse of intelligent blue eyes set in a striped, furry face of grey and black. When she rose to a sitting position, the face had vanished; Lea's wide eyes fixed on the strange sight of a curling, furry grey tail with a black tip – disappearing into the nearby maze.

"Cat." Lea took in a shaky breath, disgusted with herself for being so easily frightened by the small animal. Without a word, she got to her feet, dusted herself off while keeping her eyes on the maze entrance in case anything else emerged from it.

_"Meow_?" The plaintive sound was followed by a small, sleek head peeping around the maze entrance.

Lea paused in patting herself over and stared at the cat – what she could see of it anyway. It seemed a shy little thing, looking at her with only one bright blue eye, the rest of its soft face hidden behind the neatly pruned maze wall. Its' one visible ear pointed up, grey with a black tip like its tail, and ended in a long tuft of fur that bent forward in a confused, untidy manner.

"Meow," it said again.

The sound seemed to demand an answer.

"Hello," Lea said awkwardly. She'd never had a pet, not even as a child. The only animals she'd known had been fierce guard dogs who'd have chewed her fingers off if she'd put her hand through their kennel railings to pet them.

She hesitated, then bent down very slowly while the cat kept that one blue eye fixed unblinkingly on her face. "Hello," she said again.

The cat purred gently, then raised a soft, padded white paw to stroke its black-tipped ear very carefully.

Cleaning it, Lea guessed. Something in the random gesture reassured her. Surely the small creature wouldn't attack her. It didn't look in the least bit wild.

She cleared her throat and put her hand out, wishing she had a snack with which to entice the little cat to her. It stopped cleaning its ear and looked at her expectantly.

"Come here, cat," Lea crooned, and looked startled. She hadn't known she could croon.

The cat tilted its head slightly, as though it was trying to understand what she was saying, then meowed again. This time it sounded intrigued.

"Yes, that's right. Come to me." She was on one knee now and feeling rather silly holding out her hand to it like this, but it was really such a cute little thing. "Come here, come here."

"Meow," the cat said once more, as though agreeing with her. "Meow."

And it took off into the maze.

"Hey," Lea called out. "Wait!"

She dashed after the disappearing creature without a thought.

"Where are you going, cat?" Lea grimaced, peered ahead and once more spotted a curling grey tail with that touch of a black tip. She turned another corner, and then another – and lost the tail.

"Silly creature, how will I find you now?"

Carefully, she took another turn, glimpsed the lithe silhouette belonging to the little cat as it padded around a bend in the maze. A small rumbling purr made its way back to her. Lea had the oddest feeling the cat wanted her to follow it.

"Never mind Gabriel," she muttered to herself. "It's I who's losing my mind."

Hurriedly, Lea followed the twists and turns of the quiet green maze, a slinking black-tipped tail always kept just in sight.

"Where are you taking me, little cat?"

The words were followed by a soft curse when her feet somehow got caught on an overgrown root. Lea stumbled, but thankfully she didn't fall. When she looked up again, she'd lost the cat.

"Which way did you go?" She could not see so much as a hint of grey tufted fur no matter where she looked.

It didn't help that the maze was rather busy this morning so that Lea found herself forced to look up from her search with annoying frequency, nodded politely as she passed the many strange individuals traversing the maze's earthy green paths. By tacit agreement, everyone here kept their voices low. The silence in the maze was broken only by soft chatter at odd moments, but this was otherwise a world of its own, with pruned green walls that rose to double Lea's height, and which stretched, twisted and turned seemingly forever.

She soon found herself trailing her fingers along the maze walls as she strolled its grassy paths. The privacy this labyrinth afforded her was something Lea had been unconsciously seeking since she'd first woken up in this strange realm. And though this peaceful maze was curiously bare of decorative statues and other sculptures, unlike Lorien's public mazes, Lea found its lack of ornamentation curiously appealing as she strode forward.

Some of the differences between the kingdoms certainly fell in Verlaine's favour, she found herself thinking guiltily, and turned into a secluded, shadowed corner – only to bump hard into a couple entwined tightly in a passionate embrace.

"Sorry," Lea murmured hastily, a wry smile on her face, and quickly tiptoed away. So much for differences between the two kingdoms...

"I didn't think a maze could be built this high though," she murmured to herself, and glanced up. Her gaze rose past the maze walls to glimpse the sun breaking through the clouds in the sky, before disappearing again.

"Silly cat," Lea said beneath her breath, suddenly remembering how she'd got here, and grimaced. Her feet were beginning to hurt in their too-tight shoes, and there were too many people about for her to consider taking them off. "And sillier me for following the creature in here. I'd better get out."

But something kept Lea ambling along, carelessly keeping a lookout for a certain furry creature, tipping her head politely at the guests she encountered walking by. She'd always enjoyed exploring the public gardens and mazes in Lorien, and it seemed the calm, cool atmosphere here too made her feel – as she'd felt only once before, in the castle's inner courtyard – oddly at home in this foreign, strange world.

And then, Lea knew she had arrived right at the heart of the maze.

A circle of tall stone statues ringed the wide open grassy clearing, with circular marble benches set in between each statue. At the heart of the maze centre burst a generous circle of crimson that was, Lea realised, flowering rose bushes. Encircling the rose bushes there stood more wide marble benches – or perhaps these were of stone.

Lea abruptly went rigid. This part of the maze had seemed empty at first glance, but it appeared she was wrong; a slim figure sat on a dirt-encrusted stone bench, face cradled in her hands as she wept.

"Not _again_ ," Lea hissed before she could stop herself.

She clapped her hands over her mouth. But it was too late.

Cecily Fortuna lifted a tearful, dirt-stained face to Lea's. She looked startled, and then afraid – and then quite mutinous. Carefully, the girl wiped the tears from her face with the clean corner of an otherwise dirt-stained skirt, before raising her little head in a defiant movement that made her thick chestnut curls bounce dully.

"I suppose you think you've _got_ me now," she announced in a querulous little voice. "I suppose you don't think I'd put up a fight because – because – Well, because I saved you last night. Well, you're _wrong_." Cecily shook out her skirts with a deft hand, blue eyes blazing. "I didn't know it was you or I wouldn't have bothered to save you at all. Go ahead, do what you came here for. My Barty will find out the truth at the end, and then you'll be sorry."

She took a deep breath. " _Assassin._ "
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Book 2 in the Mesmer Trilogy by Isabella Amaris is out now!

Mesmer, Book 2: Favoured

(A Three Towers Fantasy)

A hidden kingdom in a forbidden forest. A realm she can't escape without the trust of a mage. But trust and magic make complicated allies – when time is running out.

As Lea races to outsmart Gabriel Amarinth and escape his magical kingdom, her stubborn loyalty to her home realm begins to waver. To her dismay, she finds herself turning fascinated by her charmed sanctuary – and its magi master.

But when strange accidents and deadly disasters begin to stalk Lea through the halls of Gabriel's castle, it's obvious that someone in Verlaine isn't happy with her change of heart.

Get Mesmer, Book 2: Favoured now!
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About the Author:

When she isn't writing high fantasy or YA romantic fantasy, Isabella Amaris is often found busily penning poetry and short stories with elements of fantasy, romance and mystery/suspense.

No matter how busy she is, this author will always love to hear from her readers. Do drop her a line at belleamaris at gmail dot com, or pop by her website at http://isabellaamaris.com. She blogs on fairy tales and fantasy at http://isabellaamaris.blogspot.com.

Discover other titles by Isabella Amaris at Smashwords.com

Short Stories (individual stories/collections):

The Story-Catcher

When a girl falls into a river in a Welsh forest, she enters the magical world of the Story-Catcher, a mysterious wizard who might just have an unexpected reason for her presence in his realm.

Amnipur

In Amnipur, cities and science and libraries are built on the theft of other species' evolution. But when everything you do is a mere echo of someone else's hard-won culture, what can an imaginative Amnipurian contribute to his quiet and efficient copycat world?

Perhaps the newly discovered species called 'humans' holds the answer ...

The Shoplifter Never After

The wits of a therapist are pitched against the guile of a client hiding the truth behind her thefts of random odd objects, in a psychological thriller with an unexpected twist.

Dreamer

A sequel to 'The Shoplifter Never After'. When the world refuses to accept who you are, but the universe you dream up to replace it becomes more real to you than it should be, what do you do? Perhaps only a certain, rotund therapist can find an answer to that burning question...

Junction

Would you betray your most sacred ideals to protect what's yours? A yuppie racing to work in her dented little second-hand car discovers the answer to this question when she is faced with an unusual sight, at the Junction ...

The Devil's Advocate

When a certain devilish minion starts whispering sweet, fatal nothings into a weary ear, there seems to be only one bloody way out of the mess that Penny's life has become.

And the Devil's Advocate is absolutely convinced he'll make her take it ...

Poetry:

As The Moon And The Sun: Poems Of Love, Faith And Dreaming

In The Madness Of Meeting: More Poems Of Love, Faith And Dreaming

Just Imagine: An Anthology Of Poems On Love, Faith And Dreaming

Connect with Me Online:

<http://isabellaamaris.com/>

<http://isabellaamaris.blogspot.com/>

