Rose of the Oath

  Chapter 4: Inked Words

  Eyes flashed through the night. Great horrible eyes. Gleaming fangs. Snarls echoed in my ears. Pain laced up my arm. My eyes flew open as I gasped and pulled my blankets to my chin.

  Shadows flowed around me, veiling my bed.

  Pressing my lips together to hold back a faint whimper, I traced the long scar slicing up my arm. Up and down. Down and up. I closed my eyes. Breathe, just breathe. It was a dream. Nothing more. Not this time. Just a dream.

  One by one, I forced my muscles to relax and rolled to face the room. The crimson petals of the rose glimmered back at me. I glared at the blossom. Why had I even taken it from the beast? I didn’t want it. Didn’t want any of it.

  All I wanted was the warmth of the twins on either side of me. Eldric’s heavy breathing drifting from the room next to our own. Lamplight spilling across rough walls.

  I swallowed hard. I’d get back. The web of grayness shifted and wavered. Whatever it took, I would get out of here. I twisted Klara’s ribbon around my fingers as the growing light transformed my chamber from predawn gloom to the glitter of full morning. The smell of grease and eggs drifted beneath my door. I pushed myself up with a groan.

  The beast was in the kitchen when I dressed and made my way downstairs, following the sizzle of oil and slight haze drifting down the main corridor.

  He waved smoke from a skillet of bubbling oil and scooped out several golden-brown pastries. He glanced over his shoulder and his teeth flashed a quick smile, though the dark lines under his eyes were even more pronounced than before. With one hand he gestured to a shelf lined with bowls, plates, cups, pots, and pans. Hazarding a guess, I pulled off two plates and let him fill them with eggs and pastries.

  “So,” I hesitated as we ate, leaning against the counter in the kitchen. “Where do you get this food?”

  The beast jerked his thumb at a cupboard behind him, his lip curling slightly.

  I rolled my eyes. “And before that?”

  A garden. He traced the words in the air. Hunting. Villages and farms.

  So he could leave, then. Of course he could if he’d brought Eldric out. “You steal it?”

  Do you think I live in a castle and can’t pay for my keep? He swirled the question mark and punctuated it with a jab of his finger.

  I raised my hands. “Sorry I asked. What about me? What am I supposed to do here?”

  The beast stared at me, blinked once, then shrugged and turned away, placing his dishes in the sink and pumping water over them.

  “On my own then?” I muttered. “I’ve no objections.”

  He didn’t glance up when I left several minutes later, but I still cast a glance over my shoulder as I stepped from Rosen Den. The sun beckoned, drawing me out. Slowly relaxing, I circled the valley. Shadows stretched down, lingering under protrusions of stone. Vines wound over the cliff faces. Trees spread outward from the entrance, the gloom cloaking me in a cool breeze as I passed among them.

  Rock walls towered above me, and I stared at the entrance for a long minute before taking a deep breath. I threw myself forward. The invisible barrier hurled me back and I slammed into a tree. Muffling a whimper, I stumbled upright. There had to be a way. Some way. Cradling my arm, I glared at the entrance before stalking back out into the open. This time I rounded the perimeter, noting the plots of dark earth. Already sprouts of green pushed through the soil, basking in the sunlight.

  Were the girls caring for our garden? Was our cottage still there? If the rebels— I pressed my hands to the side of my head. No. Don’t think. Not about that. Not here.

  The sun was nearly overhead when I made my way indoors.

  The halls were still. Deserted.

  I stepped toward the kitchen. The shoes I’d found earlier whispered against the tiles. The dishes from breakfast were returned to their shelf, and I drifted around the room, peering into cupboards.

  A soft exhale touched my ears. I spun, my blood surging through my veins. The beast was slumped between the counter and the wall, his eyes closed, his head angled rakishly to the side. A quill hung from his fingers and several parchments lay scattered over his chest, rising and falling with each breath.

  I crossed my arms and bit my lip, then tiptoed closer. My fingers closed about a parchment, and it rustled as I lifted it. Dark lines smeared the surface. Oath… the King… payment… The words were interspersed with scribbles and dark blots.

  Letting it flutter to the ground, I pressed my hands to my hips as I watched the beast, studying his face. How old was he, beneath those scars? When he looked at me, the eyes held a depth of age I’d never seen. But asleep; if the scars were smoothed away, he couldn’t be much older than Eldric.

  No. He had to be older. Some of his scars were faded with age while others overlaying them were faded as well. I pivoted away. What did I care if he was covered with scars or apparently didn’t have any place better to sleep than the kitchen floor?

  I pulled a bowl from the rack and sifted through the ingredients from the shelves—flour, sugar, salt, butter, and milk.

  The beast didn’t stir when I slid the biscuits into the oven. My chin on my hands, I sat at the counter in the center of the kitchen, staring at him. Eldric’s face replaced the beast’s. I could see him; see him climbing the mountains, Helene clinging to his back and Klara in his arms. See him with his sword across his knees, keeping watch at the entrance of a secluded cave. I twisted the crimson ribbon. They’d be safe. They had to be safe. I’d get out of here, whatever the cost.

  The beast stiffened, jerking in his sleep. My eyes refocused as air hissed between his teeth, then he lurched upright. His gaze spun about the room and landed on me. For a long moment our eyes met. His lips formed a soundless exclamation and he fumbled to pick up the scattered parchments, crumpling them into his pocket. Screwing the lid onto his bottle of ink, he shoved it into his tunic, stumbled to his feet, and raked his fingers through his hair.

  “Not get much sleep last night?” I questioned innocently.

  He glared at me, shaking out his gray and white cloak and frowning at several new stains.

  I blinked. “Conscience keeping you up? Because you could let me go, you know.”

  The beast scowled, his fingers traced out a single word.

  Wolves.

  I stiffened and turned quickly to check my biscuits. “Is there any place those creatures don’t go?”

  No. The beast was still watching me when I straightened. He sighed and sank into a seat at the table. The wolves are everywhere.

  After eating, the beast vanished and I set out to explore the castle, starting in the circle of four corridors. The left led to a swath of rooms. Most were abandoned and dusty. The cellars were much more interesting. The cell that held Eldric captive was not the only one, but the others were stocked full of food, wood, and other supplies. I’d hardly even dented the labyrinth of lesser corridors before the beast found me and motioned it was time for dinner.

  The light was fading by the time we were finished. I excused myself and took refuge in my room. The next day passed as the first, and then the next and the next. The castle was endless. Always there was a nook or cranny to discover. Vaulted rooms. Great empty chambers. Others were covered with tapestries. Threads wove a tree of roses; a white rose, turning black; wolves and battle and death. I shuddered and passed on.

  More often than not, the rooms were locked, and I nagged the beast until he handed me a ring of keys with the observation that the locked rooms held no interest. For the most part, he was right. I suspected only the handful of keys he’d kept to himself contained anything exciting.

  It was nearly two weeks after I first arrived when I came across the beast, sprawled on the turf next to the garden, fast asleep. I shook my head. Did he never sleep at night?

  Something glinted. I tilted my head, a slow smile creeping over my face. Keys. Or one, to be more exact. Holding my breath, I crouched beside him, loosened the iron piece from his belt, and
sprang back a step. He didn’t stir.

  For a moment, I stared at my hand. When he woke up— but no. He’d given me no cause for alarm so far. My hand closed around the warm metal. There was only one room I’d seen him lock with regularity.

  Sprinting back inside, I turned down the right corridor and darted along the tiles, finally pausing before a great oaken door. Quickly, I slid the key into the slot. It clicked, and the door swung open soundlessly.

  I blinked, inhaling softly.

  “By the rose…” I stepped inside, staring at the towering shelves rising to either side. “He has a library?”

  Finally, a place I’d enjoy. I scowled at myself and fingered the ribbon I’d tied about my wrist. Not as if I were staying.

  Dust motes floated through the air, dancing along golden beams sliced between the books—rows of books, arching upward. Rolling ladders leaned against several shelves. I traced my fingers along the spines of ancient tomes as I wound my way inward. Light filtered through a great window and fell on a table as I rounded a final corner. I stopped, tilting my head.

  Parchments cluttered the table. Others crumpled about the floor while blank paper and ink were clustered in piles and rows. I glanced over my shoulder, then crept around the desk and picked up a parchment. The flowing letters seared golden words into my mind.

  Who hath believed our report? The Oath of the King shall never fail. His promise to those who rebelled will stand completed…

  I blinked, the words ringing a dim chord in my memory. Father used to speak words like that. And Eldric… The Oath of the King…?

  I picked up another parchment. The same swirls filled the page. The same paragraph, again and again.

  …The price shall be paid. The Prince will give it willingly; no enemy shall take it from him…

  Another page, and yet another. How could the beast waste his time on such… such legends?

  …From whence has it been heard, or who hath done such a thing? Yet the King shall grant His enemies this victory, and the Prince shall rise up…

  A scarred hand tore the paper away, and I spun with a gasp, meeting the beast’s glare. His jaw was clenched, his gaze set. His fingers crumpled the parchment and tossed it to the side while he held out his other hand. Fumbling, I handed over the key and retreated a step.

  “I just… I wanted to see. How can you keep all these books to yourself? And the writing. What is…”

  My words faltered as the beast advanced a step, glowering. I pressed back around the desk, moving to keep it between us. With a quick snap of his hand, the beast flung a gesture outward, toward the door.

  “Why?” I demanded. “Why can’t I…”

  The beast sprang over the desk with a snarl, sending papers rustling in all directions.

  Stifling a scream, I turned and fled, dashing down the corridor and out into the valley. I didn’t stop until the trees wrapped their welcome shades about me.

  Sinking down against a trunk, I hugged my knees to my chest and covered my face with my hands. My shoulders trembled as I drew great, ragged breaths. What was I thinking? What was the beast thinking? What did he even care for, beyond roses and scribbled legends?

  A branch snapped. I lurched to my feet. My fingers curled around my dagger. If the beast even dared… But this noise was coming from outside the entrance. I peered around the trunk as a figure strode through the trees. Through the entrance— My eyes widened and he jerked to an abrupt stop, blue eyes staring at me.

  “Dachs?” I gasped.

  “Elissa? You’re here?”

  “As you see me.”

  He sprang forward, his hand clasping mine. “Your brother is worried out of his wits and your sisters—”

  “They’re safe?”

  Dachs nodded. “For now. The rebels didn’t stay long.”

  I leaned weakly against the tree. “Thank the King.” As if He had anything to do with it.

  “Yes.” Dachs grimaced. “With full-scale war on our hands… but why are you here?” He glanced past me.

  I scowled. “I can’t leave. The beast won’t allow it.”

  Dachs’s eyes snapped back to mine. “There really is a beast?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “At least…” I glared back toward the fortress. “No. He’s not a beast like that. He’s not harmed me, but I’m not allowed to leave. I can’t leave. I’m not even sure how you got in here.” My eyes narrowed as I stared at Dachs.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Dachs said. “Come with me. I can bring you back to Eldric and the others.”

  “I don’t think you quite understand—”

  Dachs grasped my hand and stepped back. I jerked to a halt against the invisible barrier as he passed through.

  I swallowed. “See?”

  Dachs’s brow furrowed. He raked his fingers through his hair as he stepped back. “You can’t just stay here!”

  I glared at him. “Do you think I want to?”

  “I…” He closed his eyes. “Sorry. There must be a way out.” He took my hand again and peered into my eyes. “I will find a way. Any way.”

  I blinked once. Dachs? He hardly knew me. “Perhaps if you could find Eldric…”

  Dachs bit his lip. “I don’t think… I can try. But he’ll not be able to see the entrance a second time, I fear.”

  “Why? And you will?”

  “I will.”

  I pressed my fingers to my temples. The man was making no sense. “Just… tell him I’m safe, could you? And where I’m at. He’ll find me.”

  “If that is your wish.” Dachs inclined his head, then jerked and glanced over his shoulder. Distant snaps crunched through the forest.

  My eyes widened. “Are there others with you?”

  “After me, rather.” Dachs scowled. “I’ll be back. I promise. And,” he hesitated. “Be careful here. There are rumors about the beast.”

  “Rumors?”

  Dachs’s eyes met mine. “Wolves. He talks with them. Can become one of them. Or so the stories claim.” Behind him shouts filtered through the trees and he retreated beyond the barrier. “Just be careful. I’ll be back.”

  They still came. Why did he still send them?

  He balanced his sword as he stood in the pool of roses and stared into the night. Heavy wings beat overhead, then a shape flickered out of the corner of his eye as feathers brushed his cheek. The Messenger Falcon swooped around and landed on his shoulder.

  And that girl. That infuriating girl. Stealing a key and finding his writing. She wasn’t ready. If she knew who he was. What he was…

  He gritted his teeth. Who could ever be ready for that? For the part she would be expected to play.

  But Tauscher was coming. He’d seen it already. The burnings and the slaughter. He’d be there by late spring; maybe summer. The King’s steward revealed as the rebel leader. Already he’d grown so strong in secret, the unveiling did little to hinder his plans. Tauscher was coming. Coming there. Unless his power was broken and the words were spoken.

  He couldn’t leave, not with her here. Which left the ability to break the twisted use of Tauscher’s gift in her hands.

  He grimaced. There was no one else. His outburst probably wasn’t the best start, but he couldn’t waver. Not anymore. There was no time. There was little enough as it was.

  He would love her if it killed him. Hopefully, she’d love him back. Love him enough to pay the price.

  It was the only way.