Entangle
by Tarynn Kerr
Entangle
Tarynn Kerr
Cover design: Tarynn Kerr
Stock photo: © Bezimeni Bezimenkovic
First edition published 2015
Copyright © 2015 Tarynn Kerr
The author reserves all rights. No form of reproduction may be used, unless prior written permission has been obtained from the publisher, excepting the use of brief quotations within critical reviews or articles. Reproduction encompasses any and all methods, present or future. In addition, no part or parts of this book may be used, unless under the same conditions of prior approval.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity or resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, or situations is entirely coincidental.
Any scanning, uploading or distribution via the Internet or any other form of technology without the consent of the publisher is protected by law, and will be considered illegal and punishable by law. Please respect these rights and laws by purchasing only authorized electronic or printed editions, and we request that you will not participant in encouraging any form of piracy of copyrighted materials. The author truly appreciates your support of their rights and legacy.
***
Other Books by Tarynn Kerr
Lure
Enthrall
***
Prologue
“What’s funny?” David asked when I snorted at his naiveté. Tova and Eric have ‘gotten used to each other.’ Riiiiight. “And are you ever going to tell me what’s going on between you and Tova? I know there’s something.”
Ah, if he only knew. Not that I was going to tell him. His reaction when he inevitably found out about his brother will be so much funnier if he knows nothing. I wasn’t going to tell him about that either. It will be comedy defined when he finds out.
Maybe once it’s out in the open I’ll tell him my side. I’m a much better storyteller than Tova anyway. Her ‘story’ will most likely consist of only “It happened. It was stupid. Now let’s all just forget about it.” No excitement, no flair. She’ll throw in a few good death glares, of course, but that was just her face at this point.
I set down the ingredients for the mysterious human recipe called ‘pizza’ and told him, “I prefer listening to gossip.” That was mostly true. I did listen more than I talked. You had to wade through quite a bit of useless chatter in order to get to the useful bits. It was only those useful bits that I talked of eventually. That and the wildly entertaining. The story of Tova and me had the potential to be quite entertaining, but it needed to stew a little longer. So instead I told them a folktale, starring the one and only Cearo, while David made his strange bread.
The folktale turned out to disturb them more than I expected. That was alright though. Tales of Cearo could have that effect. She was quite terrifying. At times I wondered if we should wake her up or if that was an absolutely terrible idea.
Yes, we should, I decided. If I helped, she would have mercy on me. Plus it would be the story—no, epic—of the century.
After sampling the pizza, which was not mind-blowing, but I had faith in my new human friend, I took a detour to the library on my way to the servants’ quarters. David’s dreams were strange. I wondered for this reason, and many others, if Cearo and David were truly connected. Ideally, I would examine Cearo and attempt to glean an explanation based on her state. However, since I was as hindered as David at getting to her, I had to settle for speculation. There were many possible causes of strange dreams. I swiped a book on poisonous flowers, another on far darrigs and maras, and one on the aftereffects of wisp trances. I had found out about the wisp incident soon after they arrived. I snickered to myself. That was a long shot as David had been fine for weeks since his initial recovery, but you never know. Of course he could just be crazy. Honestly, that was the most likely. But I would look into it anyway. Better to be informed.
I headed for the servants’ quarters with only one more stop along the way. Madame Beaumont’s door was closed when I passed by, but it did not entirely muffle the sounds of passion coming from within. Her husband or the stable boy?, I wondered. I settled on the stable boy. The lady’s cries sounded much too blissful to have been solicited by the unsightly Sir Beaumont. I wasn’t sure what I would do with this information of Madame Beaumont’s affair, but they were a powerful couple, and I was sure this would come in handy at some point.
I arrived at my cot and slid under the threadbare blanket. The servants’ quarters were hardly more glamorous than the dungeons with the thin cots and cold, dank air. There were a dozen others crammed in here as well, but it was alright. The body heat helped keep the room warm. After listening to the chatter for a minute, I decided none of it was interesting, so I let my mind wander. It landed on Tova. I laughed silently, remembering her as a little girl, always picked on and always making the bullies pay. Even back then her signature glare was starting to take form. I practiced how I would eventually tell our story as I drifted off to sleep.
Once upon a time there was a tiny red-headed and red-eyed girl that punched a much bigger boy in the face when he tried to take her doll…
***