The Inner Circle: The Knowing (3 page)

‘
What’s wrong with
the boy?’ Gifn said indignantly. ‘He comes from a wealthy family
and he’s actually quite a nice young man. You could do a lot
worse.’

‘
All right.’ Seteal
exhaled softly. ‘We’re actually doing this. Fine.
I--don’t--want--to--get--married. Do you understand me?’

‘
Come now, Seteal.
You finished school three years ago,’ Gifn insisted. ‘You can’t
help out in the shop forever . . . and I won’t be here forever. You
need someone who can take care of you.’

‘
I can take care of
myself,’ Seteal snapped. ‘I’ll run the business alone if I have
to.

‘
You’re a woman.’
Gifn chuckled before his face crumbled at the realisation that he
should’ve kept such a comment to himself. ‘I mean to say: carpentry
is heavy work.’

‘
It’s work that you
know I’m far more capable of handling than any of the men you’ve
hired in the past.’ Seteal put her hands on her hips and narrowed
her eyes accusingly.

‘
I just don’t see why
you’re so hostile to the idea of at least meeting some of these
young men,’ Gifn intercepted, guiding the conversation back on
course. ‘Most girls would be giddy with excitement at your
age.’

Seteal stared at her father stonily. He
couldn’t possibly be so dim. Surely he was trying to fool himself
by denying what he must already know on some level, at least. She
felt like shouting it at him, but couldn’t be so cruel. It would
crush him. It wasn’t fair, but that was the world they lived
in.

‘
I’ve just met
so many lately,’ Seteal stated, taking pity on her father’s
desperation. ‘I’m tired of not finding the
right
person.’

‘
Well.’ Gifn clapped
his hands enthusiastically, relief and elation dancing across his
features. ‘I’ve got just the man for you! He’s not the wealthiest
in town, but he’s intelligent and handsome. I’ve arranged a meeting
for tonight.’

‘
No--enough!’
Seteal’s long-suppressed anger boiled to the surface. ‘For Maker’s
sake, I’m trying to make this easy on you, but you keep throwing it
back in my face. I don’t want to meet a man, any man, ever. Get it?
I’m not interested in men.’

‘
What’re you saying?’
Gifn’s face fell, making it obvious that he didn’t truly want the
answer to his question.

‘
I . . .’ Seteal
slumped, once again softened by her father’s distress. He was old
fashioned and alone. She was all he had. ‘I’ve got a bad feeling
about tonight, that’s all.’

‘
What kind of
feeling?’ Gifn asked warily, clamping his hands over Seteal’s
shoulders.

‘
I don’t know.’
Seteal looked up at him awkwardly. ‘A feeling.’

‘
What kind of
feeling?’ Gifn repeated more firmly. ‘What does the feeling feel
like?’

‘
What does the
feeling feel like?’ Seteal’s face creased in consternation. ‘What
kind of a question is that? It feels like a feeling. The feeling
feels like a feeling!’

‘
Are you sure that it
doesn’t feel like it’s not your feeling, but you’re feeling it
anyway?’

‘
What the torrid?’
Seteal got up from the table and stepped away to stare at anything
other than Gifn’s eyes, all the while doing her best to remain
calm. Her father had described exactly what it felt like when she
felt the future. It was as though she knew something, but the
knowledge was not her own. Rather, the thoughts seemed to have been
inserted into her head from somewhere else. ‘I’m just not feeling
very sociable.’ Seteal forced a laugh.

Why was he behaving this way? Had he
figured it out? But how could he have possibly done so?

‘
Well, all right,
then.’ Gifn squeezed her shoulder and headed toward the sink, where
he resumed drying the dishes. ‘You’d tell me if anything was the
matter, wouldn’t you?’

‘
At the moment . . .’
Seteal half-smiled. ‘I can guarantee that you’re the only thing
bothering me.’

‘
There it is.’ Gifn’s
face split into a broad smile in recognition of Seteal’s. ‘I
haven’t seen one of those in a while.’

‘
Didn’t you say you
had some breakfast for me?’ Seteal asked. She often found herself
feeling awkward when her father behaved affectionately. She didn’t
know how to respond. It was just a smile. Why did parents get so
excited over such expressions? Everyone smiled. It was nothing
special.

‘
Oh dear,’ Gifn
teased, ‘did I embarrass you?’

‘
Just give me my
breakfast.’ Seteal grinned wryly. Having spotted it on the counter,
she pushed past her father, snatched up the plate, and took it to
the table. ‘Thanks,’ she said through a mouthful of bread, sending
crumbs spraying everywhere.

‘
You’re going to
clean that up.’ Gifn nodded at the breadcrumb explosion.

‘
Yesh,’ Seteal tried
to say, but only succeeded in sending more crumbs spraying across
the table.

‘
You just focus on
eating.’ Gifn gestured patiently. ‘We chew, swallow, and then talk.
Maker, it’s moments like these that I really miss your mother. She
would’ve taught you some manners.’

Silence filled the room and Seteal lost
her appetite. She put down the bread and dusted off her hands. Gifn
occasionally reminisced over Jillian, but aside from a few dusty
memories, Seteal had nothing to add to the conversation. And for
that she was bitterly resentful.

‘
I’m sorry, darling,’
Gifn began to apologise, only to be interrupted by a knock at the
door. ‘I wonder who that could be?’ He marched over and pulled it
open. ‘You,’ he gasped.

‘
Mister Eltari,’ a
deep, commanding voice intoned.

Gifn slammed the door and put his
weight against it. ‘Get out of here,’ he hissed at Seteal.

‘
What’s going on?’
She moved around the table, curiosity driving her
forward.

‘
Listen very
carefully.’ Gifn’s tone was one of disbelief and his eyes showed
greater fear than Seteal had ever seen in them. ‘Go through the
back. Don’t let anyone see you and run as fast as you can. I’ll try
to keep them occupied.’

‘
Come now, Gifn,’ the
strong, elderly voice called through the door. ‘Must it really be
this way?’

‘
What do you
want?’

‘
I simply wish to
speak to Miss Eltari,’ the voice replied.

‘
No,’ Gifn responded
without hesitation. ‘You can’t have her. You should
leave.’

‘
Father,’ Seteal
gasped. ‘You’re being rude.’

‘
Must you be so
difficult?’ the voice enquired regretfully. ‘You well know that I
needn’t be so courteous in getting my way. And you
are
beginning to test my patience.’

‘
No . . . no,’ Gifn’s
breaths became ragged. ‘Seteal . . . please, if you’re going to
listen to me just once in your life, you need to get out of here
now!’

‘
I’m going.’ Seteal
snapped out of her shock and swept toward the back door. She’d
never seen her father in such a state, but knew that anyone capable
of inducing such fear in a man so strong could only be incredibly
dangerous. ‘Be careful,’ she called.

Seteal yanked open the back door as the
one in the front swung open behind her. ‘Father!’ She spun and
froze at the sight before her.

Gifn stood calmly beside the door with
a disturbingly large smile plastered across his face. ‘Come back,
darling,’ he said woodenly. ‘It’s safe now.’

‘
Father?’ Seteal
murmured, tentatively releasing the handle to take a step in his
direction.

An elderly man stepped inside followed
closely by a woman of similar age to Seteal. The strangers were the
definition of contrast. The old man was dressed in a white robe
with a dark blue collar and cuffs. The young woman was dressed in a
flowing, deep red dress that seemed perfectly cut for her slender
and beautifully proportioned body. The man was tall, with a long
flowing beard and white hair, his skin leathery and ancient. The
woman had hair as black as pitch, which framed a pale face without
a single blemish. In fact, there was really only one thing that the
pair had in common and that was their eyes.

The old man searched the room with deep
blue eyes centred by white pupils until they came to rest on
Seteal.

‘
Your eyes,’ she
choked out.

‘
Come here,’ Gifn
intoned, lifting a heavy hand. ‘Come meet the kind
people.’

‘
That’s enough,
El-i-miir,’ the old man said sternly. ‘Put him in the
corner.’

‘
Certainly, Gil’rei,’
El-i-miir replied, her hand twitching dismissively. Gifn wandered
to the corner of the room and stopped, his head resting against the
wall.

‘
What’ve you done to
him?’ Seteal cried. She snatched up a bread knife and hurried
across the room.

‘
Stop.’ El-i-miir’s
eyes flashed, white pupils burrowing into Seteal’s soul. Although
she couldn’t explain why, Seteal froze in place, her fingers
unfurling to drop the knife.

The old man chuckled. ‘What were you
going to do, butter me?’

‘
I . . . I . . .’
Seteal’s jaw worked but she couldn’t figure out which words to
say.

‘
All right.’ The
imposter nodded. ‘I’ve seen enough. El-i-miir, my dear . . . if
you’d be so kind. My will isn’t quite what it used to
be.’

‘
Of course.’
Concentration caused the woman’s soft features to crease. She
looked into Seteal’s eyes and whispered, ‘Sleep.’ And that was
exactly what Seteal did.

*

Seteal drifted, disembodied, through
the woods. A ramshackle building, overgrown with weeds and foliage,
appeared before her. Inside the building, a young woman slept on a
dilapidated bed. Her head rested without a pillow and an old
blanket had been thrown over her without too much care. The young
woman had a small frame. Her hair was a boring brunette and her
features were nothing outside of the ordinary. Although the woman’s
eyelids were shut, Seteal knew that behind them sat radiantly
coloured hazel eyes, one of her few redeeming features. Seteal knew
this because the woman was her.

Opening her eyes, she
glanced about her surroundings. Seteal was
inside a run-down building that bore a striking resemblance to the
one in her dream. The paint was peeling from the walls and large
cracks had formed, through which plant life worked tirelessly to
get inside. The only pieces of furniture were the bed in which
Seteal rested and a wooden chair beside it. There, the peculiar old
man was perched patiently, his features revealing an oddly familiar
expression.

‘
You’re awake,’ he
announced. ‘You’re a determined little thing, aren’t
you?’

‘
Where am I?’ Seteal
pushed herself upright, only to collapse beneath a heavy wave of
exhaustion.

‘
Give yourself time,
girl,’ the man urged, leaning forward concernedly. ‘Artificial
sleep can be rather deep. Just wait a moment or two and you’ll feel
much better.’

Seteal nodded automatically and rested
her head. Ordinarily she’d have fought violently to escape such a
situation, but the exhaustion was overwhelming.

‘
My name is Gil’rei
Far-a-mael.’ The man stroked his white beard. ‘But you should
address me as Gil’rei. When you’ve rested a little, come and join
me in the next room. We have much to discuss.’ With surprising
agility, Far-a-mael swept toward the door and closed it behind
him.

Seteal stared at the sunken ceiling,
curling and uncurling her fingers. Her head felt clouded, even
peaceful. It was frustrating. A part of her mind was screaming in
the distance. Peace was the last thing she should’ve been feeling.
Seteal was in grave danger.

With a soft moan, she put her bare feet
on the floorboards and felt about until she found her boots. When
standing proved not to be too much of a challenge, Seteal made her
way to the door and turned the handle silently. It wasn’t locked.
She pushed it open and entered the next room.

‘
For the love of
Maker!’ Far-a-mael exclaimed from his place at a large table. ‘I
told you to rest.’

‘
I’m fine.’ Seteal
shook her head, her senses slowly returning. ‘Where have you taken
me? What do you want from me?’

‘
All in good time.’
Keeping his peculiar white pupils fixed on Seteal, Far-a-mael
gestured toward the only remaining chair. ‘Sit down. I won’t
bite.’

‘
What did you do to
my father?’ Seteal put a hand over her mouth, memories flooding her
with fear. ‘You . . . you need to take me home.’

‘
Sit,’ Far-a-mael
repeated.

‘
Yes, Gil’rei,’
Seteal murmured, having felt an overwhelming compulsion to do as
he’d ordered.

‘
First of all.’
Far-a-mael rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward.
‘El-i-miir and myself are Elglair, in case you hadn’t yet worked
that out.’

‘
Elglair? You’re from
the Frozen Lands?’ Seteal’s eyes widened in astonishment. ‘I didn’t
think your sort ever travelled this far south.’

‘
We avoid it whenever
we can.’ Far-a-mael looked about the room disdainfully. ‘I was sent
here on important business: the business of collecting
you.’