Red Palace (3 page)

“The visions are showing me secrets,” I
say out loud, trying to make sense of everything. “But why?”

“Why indeed, young
Mim.”

The sound of his voice has me on my feet and gripping the sword at my hip.
Allerton, the leader of the Borgans, and a man I almost killed, stands before me with his cat-like amber eyes gleaming through the gloom. There isn’t a single hair on his head and, as always, to see him twists my stomach. This is the man who ordered the attack on Halts-Walden. This is the man who caused my father’s death.

“You know my name isn’t
Mim,” I reply, in a voice as cold as I can muster.

“Yes, my dear Mae,
I do. But I thought it might grasp your attention.” He giggles like a little girl and tosses the sleeves of his robes as he claps his hands together. “Oh, I am sorry. I forget that not everyone shares my unique sense of humour.”

He comes to a halt at a man’s distance between us and lowers his eyes to mine. I find the bile rising in my throat, longing to plunge
my sword deep into his chest.

“You did this
. I don’t know how but you’re working with the Nix,” I say. “You used your amulet to curse the Red Palace and sent the court to sleep. Why did you do that? If you wanted to kill me, what was all that spiel about in the Borgan camp? That hogwash about being my mentor?” I pull the sword from its sheath and almost drop it. I’m not used to such a hefty weapon.

Allerton watches me with the sword and then sighs. “Why in the name of the Ancients would you unsheathe a sword in order to kill me
? You have the greatest power within yourself! My dear girl, you have so much to learn regarding the craft-born powers. I do hope you’re not going to let your stubbornness get in the way of fulfilling your great destiny.”

My cheeks warm as
he mentions the sword. It was a very foolish action to take, especially when I could knock him to the ground with a simple gust of wind. I consider dropping the sword to the stone slabs below, but then decide that would admit defeat.

“Why did you curse the palace? Why have you done this?”

Allerton shakes his head and turns away from me. “Why, why, why. You’re asking all the wrong questions—”

I can’t control myself any longer. I lunge straight for him, aiming the hilt of the sword at his head
to try and hurt him, but not kill him. As I run at him full pelt, a cry escapes my lips, releasing the frustration and anger that has been tightly winding itself inside me since the court fell asleep. This causes Allerton to turn and face me just as I am flinging myself towards him. His lips twist into a smile at the very moment we are going to collide. Just as I wonder why he would react in such a way, I find myself hurtling through him and hitting the stone floor with a crunch. The sword is propelled from my hand and clatters across the ground. My cheek grazes the stone slabs, and my elbow sings from the hard knock.

“Forgive me, Mae, I should have mentioned… I’m not really here.”

“You’re a ghost.”
I push myself onto my feet and wipe the dust from my dress. “You’re dead. You’re a ghost!”

He chuckles and begins to stride around me in a circle.
It could be the significant bump to my head, or it could be the slow, steady rhythm of Allerton’s footsteps, but watching him sets me in a cloud of wooziness.

“No, no. Not
a ghost. I’m still quite alive. Much to your disdain, I would imagine.”

“This is more trickery. You’re using my
powers for your own evil gain so you can set sleeping curses and… and… walk through walls.”

Allerton tips his head back and laughs
until his robes shake. “I do love your imagination, dear girl. But no, I’m afraid that’s not it either.”

“Then tell me,” I demand. “You keep saying that I need to learn, and that I can learn from y
ou, yet you speak in riddles. Tell me what it is you want and why you’re here. And please, if you can wake the prince—”

“Ah,” he interrupts. “It’s funny how you mention the
prince first.”

I twist the skirt in my hands. “Well, he is the most important person in the realm.”

“But that isn’t true, is it? You are far more important than any prince. You have the craft inside you. The prince doesn’t even come second in this little scenario. The king, of course, is the second most important person in the realm. Unless you are a traitor? Are you a traitor?” he asks.

“If a traitor is someone who thinks the
king is a tyrant and a bully, then yes, I am a traitor and I don’t mind admitting it… as long as he remains unconscious.” I flash a wary eye over towards the sleeping king. “The prince is more important than the king because he will rule the realm with a just and fair hand. The king is treading this world into the dirt.” I twist the material of my skirt harder and harder until it forms a tight little ball in my first.

Allerton mumbles something that sounds a lot like “young love”. Then he says in a louder voice, “Very well, Mae
Waylander, I think it is time to refrain from beating around the bush, don’t you? I’ll swiftly begin. First of all, I did not set this curse. It is, however, interesting that you mention the Nix. What a horrible little trickster that thing is. Perhaps you’re right about that, but we’ll come to it later. Now, the reason for my current… transient form… is all down to you, my dear. As you know, us Borgans come from a long line of craft-born protectors. We worship the craft. We worship
you
in a way. We might not live as worthy believers in a monastery like the rather pedestrian priests west of the river Sverne, but we have a spirituality they will never comprehend—”

“Get on with it,” I snap.

Allerton’s amber eyes are hooded as he flashes me a glare. It sends a shiver down my spine.

“
I am your protector, Mae, at least for now. And as your protector, I am linked to your spiritual being. That means when you are in turmoil, your soul summons me. The curse does not allow me to enter the palace, so as your loyal subject, my soul has been ripped from my body to come to your aid.”

“Your
soul?
”

“Yes, dear Mae. I lay quite dead at the Borgan camp. Fortunately
, I was able to forward a message to the others informing them of my departure. I’m sure they won’t have burned my body.” He lets out a laugh, but this time there is little humour in it.

“Will you return to your body?” I ask.

Allerton rustles his sleeves as he puts his hands together. He purses his lips and narrows his eyes as though assessing me. A strange question enters my mind:
Am I worth dying for?

“I don’t know,” he answers. “This has not happened for centuries.
We have written records of the craft-born going back three hundred years, and there is but one mention of a soul-tear.”

“What happened? Did the Borgan survive?”

“It didn’t say.”

“Why hasn’t it happened for
such a long time?”

Allerton sighs.
“A number of reasons. It takes a large amount of power to summon a soul-tear, and most of the craft-born in recent times simply haven’t been powerful enough. You’re different, Mae. Don’t ask me why you are more powerful, because it is something I cannot answer. For a number of generations, the craft-born has lived in the Red Palace as a court member. They’ve lived sheltered lives where they do not need their Borgan aids. There have been some to reject the Borgan protectors all together.” Allerton clucks his tongue in annoyance.

“Well, seeing as you kidnap the craft-born when she is sixteen, did you really expect anything less?”

“We don’t always kidnap, dear child. It just so happens that the situation called for urgency this time around. The king was trying to marry her off to his son. We had to act fast before she was trapped.” He tucks his hands into his sleeves and turns his head away. “I don’t think you appreciate how dangerous this is for me. My body is left vulnerable.”

I let go of the skirt and my hands flop to my side. I had no idea that my gift could do something like this. I had no idea that I could cause this. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Well, at any rate. You should make the most of my presence, as we do not know when or if I will return to my body. I may be taken from you at any moment.”

At one time I had wanted Allerton dead. Somehow that seems childish now.
If I had accepted my responsibility earlier on in my life, I would know how to control my powers. That could have saved a lot of people pain. It might have stopped the king dragging Aegunlund into the dirt. He has been consumed with maintaining the strange mechanisms in the castle at any cost, even the pollution of his capital city. The castle was modified to run with the craft, something that the inventor—Beardsley—created with the last craft-born.

“Now, now.
You’re not telling me that you are sad for me?” Allerton steps towards me and for the first time since we have met, I don’t feel the urge to move away from him. “I seem to remember a rather fierce young woman with a knife at my throat.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“No, you didn’t. You’re not a killer.” He smiles, and this time it seems genuine. The sarcastic twitch is gone. “Now, I know you don’t exactly like me, and I don’t blame you. Your father was never meant to be harmed, and I’m sorry about what happened. However, I’m afraid that the world is much bigger than you and your father. It contains far more than that, and you are the centre of it all. It’s a considerable destiny for one small person like you. Together we will take that destiny one step at a time.”

It could be the kind words
or the tired expression on Allerton’s face, but I begin to soften towards the man. “Thank you,” I manage.

I hear a sound that winds the tension
in my body until I feel twisted up like the tree branches in the Waerg Woods. From somewhere in the castle comes the familiar
click-ick-ick-er-ricker-click-ick-ick
of the Nix, just like in my first vision with Cas.

“Do you think
it’s hunting me?” I whisper.

Allerton frowns and stares out towards the
silent furnaces. “I don’t know about that. You’ve faced the Nix before haven’t you?”

I nod my head.

“Yes, I can see from your expression. There is no creature as despicable as the Nix. But we both know that it does not attack straight away. We are safe for the moment, Mae. It just wants you to know that it is here.”

“I know,” I whisper. I cannot get the thought of its black body out of my mind, or the way it showed me my greatest fear. When I had woken up with the sharp shard of stone pressed to my wrist, I had never felt so ashamed and so terrified.

“This will be a difficult fight, Mae. Do you think you are up to it?”

My fingers tremble at the thought of facing the Nix
again. “If Cas needs me to do it, then I will defeat that monster once and for all.”

“First, you need to move
these people to safety,” Allerton says. “I don’t know what the Nix is playing at, but if it is trying to get to you it will use any means possible, and that includes using people you have a weakness for.” He lowers his head and regards me with hooded eyes. A shudder runs down my spine as I realise he means Cas. “Is there somewhere you can put them?”

“Beardsley’s room
,” I reply at once. “I can lock them in while we hunt the Nix.”

“Mae, you won’t be able to move all these people. You’ll have to take the ones most important.”

I stare down at the bodies by my feet. They wouldn’t all fit in the office and I know it, but at least I can move Cas and his family to safety. I just have to pray that the Nix will not bother with the members of court either not familiar to me or of high importance in the realm. Even so, my throat tightens at the thought of leaving them there.

“I’ll take
the royals to Beardsley’s quarters and then we’ll just have to block the basement off the best we can,” I say.

Allerton nods with approval.
“Well then you’d best begin.”

*

After an inspection, I figure out how to rearrange the tiny room to accommodate the royals. It means shifting much of Beardsley’s work to high shelves and piling it up outside the door, but it gives us just enough floor space to move the sleeping bodies.

I us
e a coal cart to lift them, which helps a great deal. But still, shifting the king takes considerable effort, and I’m sweating and aching by the time it’s done. They will have to slumber side by side until I can break the curse. It might make for an interesting awakening, but what else can I do?

After the others are safely locked away, we move out into
the hallway. There, in the darkness, my fingers search the dirty alcoves of the wall for a lantern and a match. Without Beardsley’s overhead lights, the castle corridors are dingy, full of shadows and stuffy. When I find the match, my hands shake and it takes two attempts to light the flame. I remove the lantern from the alcove and hold it aloft, preparing myself for the sight of the Nix.

Allerton
’s soul remains my one companion. I let out a sigh of relief.

“I’ve never seen you afraid before,” he remarks. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“You don’t even know me,” I reply.

“I saw you face the man you believed ordered the death of your father without a hint of fear. I know you are brave, deep down.”

I ignore him and grip the hilt of my sword in my free hand. “Let’s find the monster and kill him. We don’t have to talk on the way.”

“On the contrary.
You need to develop a plan. You will not win in a sword fight with the Nix. For one thing, you cannot swing that sword, it is far too heavy. Another thing, your powers need to develop to defeat it. I believe I am right in saying that you have not mastered fire yet?”

I attempt to jut out my chin in a confident fashion
, but Allerton sees right through me.

“No, you have not mastered fire ye
t. Come. We must find a safe space where we can begin.” He ushers me away from the long hall towards a chamber.

“Begin what?” I ask.

“Your training of course.”

My
jaw drops. “We can’t
train
while the Nix is roaming around the castle.”

“Mae, you know full well that it will not attack for a long time. Instead, as you attempt to hunt it, it will continue to wear you down with visions of fear.
Before you know it you are a jabbering wreck who can’t do so much as create a waft of air with your craft.”

I know he’s right, but still it feels wrong not to act straight away.

“You are a brave girl, Mae, but there is more you need to learn. You need to learn patience and cunning, and I am exactly the kind of person to teach you. Plus, I have a secret weapon.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“I know the Nix’s greatest fear.”

I turn to him in shock. “You do?”

“Yes, I certainly do. Now, let’s find a safe place to train. Preferably a large room with a lock.”

For the first time since the curse fell on the castle, I smile. “I know just the place.”

I swish my ridiculous dress as we take a left turn down the corridor. The Red Palace is an ancient castle, modified by an inventor called Beardsley. He placed strange locks on all the doors, large loops made out of brass. Each is a puzzle that fits together by sliding pieces into each other. I have lived in the castle for a little over two weeks, and in that time I have explored much of the palace by hiding and watching the others enter the different rooms. By being the eyes and ears of the castle, I’ve managed to memorise many of the strange combinations.

The old layout is traditional, and one I have taken interest in. Back in Halts-Walden
, Father made me read books on the subject of the monarchy, and being in a place filled with history is like having a living connection to my dead father. I know that the palace is laid out in wings, with the royal chambers in the East Wing, and the guest rooms in the West Wing. Also on the east side is the ballroom, the kitchens, the engines and the servant quarters, however they are spread over three floors. On the west side there is a library, a throne room, the chapel and the medical ward, where the palace apothecary treats severe illnesses. With the servants living mainly on the east side, it is the part I know best. And I know one place where we can lock ourselves away from the Nix.