The Safe-Keeper's Secret (12 page)

“I do hope I can convince your brother to come work for me next summer,” the merchant said. “He's brought so much liveliness to the business! And he's such a joy to be around. If I'd had a son, I would have wanted him to be like Reed.”

“You don't have any children?”

He shook his head. “No. I always thought—I always wanted—if the Dream-Maker were here right now, I'd tell her, ‘Give me children! And, more specifically, give me a son.'” He laughed a little, as if to soften the demand, but Fiona could hear the deep wistfulness in his voice. “But even she can't help me out, I'm afraid.”

“So why didn't you have children?” Fiona asked, trying to make her voice sympathetic so the question didn't sound so blunt.

“Oh, my dear, you can see how fragile Victoria is. She would never withstand the rigors of childbirth.”

Fiona gentled her voice even more. “Some miscarriages, then?”

“No, no, nothing like that. Just—we made a decision when we first got married that we wouldn't try to have children of our own.”

“But if you had always wanted a son, and you knew she was too frail to have children—” Fiona began. She could tell she was being indelicate, but it simply didn't make sense to her that he had married the woman if she couldn't give him what he wanted. Behind Robert, she saw Thomas enter the kitchen so quietly that the merchant didn't even turn around or appear to notice him.

Robert smiled again, but the expression was full of pain. “She was happy and healthy when we were first betrothed. Then there was an accident, and everything changed. But I would not have considered drawing back from my engagement! And I have always loved her very much. I have had a very good life. It is just this one thing I would change about it if I could. I knew when I married her that she could not have children, and I married her still, for love.”

Behind Robert, Thomas opened his mouth. His expression was so cynical that Fiona could almost guess what he planned to say:
Your wife could have children if she so chose. You have let her delude you all these years
. Fiona kept her gaze on Thomas, her face neutral but her eyes full of warning. He smiled a little, turned his head away, and said nothing.

“I think you're a man who is not so very old,” Fiona said in a kind voice. “Someday the world may change, and you will find yourself a father after all.”

Robert smiled again. “But I cannot wish for the changes that would make such a thing possible. Which is why I need Isadora! To give me all the wishes of my heart at once.”

“That is why we all need Isadora,” Thomas said, stepping forward then to join the conversation. “Because our hearts are filled with so many wishes.”

“I only have one or two,” Fiona said.

Thomas took his seat again and studied her. “Given time,” he said, “you will think of more.”

Reed came knocking through the door again. “Robert! You didn't come out and see me on the riding wheel! I've gotten so much better.”

Robert came instantly to his feet. “Well, then, I'll come watch you for a moment or two.” He smiled down at Fiona. “You won't let your aunt serve cake without me, will you?”

“We won't even cut it till you're back,” she promised.

He followed Reed out the door, and now she was left face-to-face with Thomas, to whom she had even less to say. “I could make you some tea, if you like,” she offered without much enthusiasm.

He grinned. “I could make it myself if I wanted it,” he said, stretching out his long legs. “You don't have to wait on me.”

She shrugged and made no more effort at conversation.

“So, are you enjoying your summer with Angeline?” he asked.

“Yes, and the days I spend with Kate. I've learned so much, I think I could be the village witch if I wanted.”

He tilted his head to one side, studying her with his dark eyes. “Maybe,” he said in a musing voice. “But I don't see that as the truth of your future.”

“But then, you've never seen the—the ‘truth of my future' with any great skill,” she said.

He grinned again. “I still say you'll never be a Safe-Keeper.”

“I still say you're wrong.”

He reached out a hand to toy with a knife left on the table after dinner. “You don't care much for silence. Your passion for justice is too strong. I do not believe you'd be able to keep a desperate secret. You would be much more likely to try and right the wrong.”

“You say it as if that would be a flaw on my part.”

He spread his hands, the knife glinting in the candlelight. “A flaw in a Safe-Keeper, yes. A flaw in an ordinary human being? Hardly.”

“I admit there are things my mother knows that trouble me. But perhaps if they had been whispered to me in confidence, I would understand them better.”

“Tell me,” he said. “If you weren't going to be a Safe-Keeper, what would you choose to be?”

She was taken aback. No one had ever asked her that. “I would—I would be—”

“And you can't be the village witch, either. It's much the same thing. Elminstra knows at least half of your mother's secrets, and not because your mother repeated them.”

“I would go to Wodenderry and sew for the queen,” she said at random, laughing a little. “I would learn to train horses to perform in traveling shows. I would sail a boat across the Cormeon Sea and trade for riches in foreign lands.”

“You could do any of those things,” he said. “Who knows? And you might.”

She shook her head. “Not me. I was meant to stay close to the place I was born. The real one who wants assorted adventures is my brother.”

“He's not your brother,” Thomas said in a silky-soft voice.

Fiona stared at him. “He's—what?”

“He's not your brother.”

It was amazing to her how much she hated him at that moment. “He's not my brother by
blood
, but he's my brother in spirit. We were raised together. We protect each other. We believe the same things. He's my soul mate.”

Thomas nodded. “That, yes. But he's not your brother. And a time may come when you're glad of it.”

She came quickly to her feet. “I can't think of a single time when I've been glad of a thing you said,” she told him. She strode from the room and through the kitchen door to the back yard where Reed was demonstrating his talent on the wheel. It was a big spoked circle surmounted by a small seat and propelled by pedals, and Reed was following a wobbly path down the rich summer grass.

“See? I can stay balanced for almost ten minutes now,” he was calling. He spotted Fiona. “Look! Can you see how much better I am than I was yesterday?”

“Wonderful,” she called. “Can you go faster?”

Of course he could not resist the challenge, and of course he tumbled over almost immediately. Robert cried out in alarm, but Fiona was laughing. Reed, when he scrambled to his feet, was laughing, too.

“Tomorrow I'll go faster,” he said. “Robert, I can't tell you how much I love the riding wheel. It's the best present anyone has ever given me.”

“Well, you're the best worker I've ever had,” the older man said.

Angeline poked her head out the door. “Doesn't anyone want cake? It's chocolate and I'm ready to serve it now.”

“She made chocolate for me because it's my favorite,” Reed told Robert as they all immediately turned back for the house.

“Maybe she made it for me. It's
my
favorite,” Robert replied.

“It's everybody's favorite,” Fiona said, slipping inside ahead of both of them. “You're not so special.”

They ate quite merrily, all of them—or at least Fiona—managing to forget there was an invalid in the house. But as soon as Robert had finished his piece, he laid down his fork and stood up.

“Time for me to get Victoria home,” he said. “It's been a long day for her. Angeline, as always, you have been the most gracious hostess. I have so much enjoyed this evening with you and your charming guests.”

Angeline offered to help him guide Victoria to the coach, and Thomas offered to hold the horses, so Reed and Fiona were left to clean up the dishes and sneak another piece of cake. Reed was in an exuberant mood,
and as he worked, he talked almost nonstop about Robert and the job and the riding wheel and Thomas and how much he was enjoying this summer in Lowford. Fiona listened and nodded and agreed with all of it except the praise offered to Thomas, though she didn't bother telling Reed how much she disliked the Truth-Teller. It was her own secret, after all, and despite what anyone else might think, she was good at keeping things to herself.

Chapter Eight

L
ater in the season, about a week before Fiona and Reed were planning to return home, Isadora and Thomas both passed through Lowford at the same time. Angeline had another dinner party, for just the five of them, though it seemed very strange to Fiona that this particular group of people would gather together without her mother also being present. She supposed Isadora and Thomas often visited Angeline when they came to Lowford, and that seemed wrong, too. It was hard to believe that people could have lives and associations that went on when Fiona and Reed and Damiana were not there to witness them and participate.

Isadora, it turned out, hadn't been to Tambleham all summer. “So I have no news for you,” she said. “But isn't it about time for you two to be going home?”

“Next week,” Fiona and Reed said in unison. She was happy about it; he was not. It was not that he didn't want to see his mother and his friends again; he just hated to leave behind the new friends and new pastimes he had discovered in Lowford.

Isadora glanced at Thomas. “Are you escorting them back?”

He shook his head.

“I am,” Angeline said rather quickly. “I want to visit my sister for a while.”

Isadora nodded. “Well, I'll be by before Wintermoon if I can. But certainly I'll be there for the holiday.”

“Where have your travels taken you recently?” Angeline asked.

Isadora looked sorrowful for a moment. “Oh, I was just at my daughter's in Thrush Hollow for the week. Her husband has fallen sick with a lung ailment. That poor girl, she's had so much suffering in her life, I think she must be destined to be Dream-Maker after me. Though I don't say that to her face, of course. She tries hard not to blame me for all her troubles, but sometimes I think—well, I won't be going back there for a while. It might be easier on all of us.”

“Tell us somewhere else you've been,” Reed said. “A place where happier things occurred.”

They all smiled a little at that. “Well, of course you've heard the splendid news,” Isadora said. “I was in the royal city about ten months ago and just this week the young queen had a baby boy! You can imagine the celebration they're planning.”

“Unfortunately, the baby is not the king's,” Thomas said coolly.

Angeline and Isadora exclaimed aloud at this. Fiona merely looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You can't be serious!” Angeline said. “Surely the queen wouldn't—I mean, every eye is upon her—”

“But are you
sure?
” Isadora said. “Everyone says that she seems so happy.”

Thomas shrugged. “I tell the truth as it makes itself known to me—and I doubt I'm the only Truth-Teller to know this fact. There may be a Safe-Keeper or two who's been told this secret, but I believe this is one truth that will wriggle out, and fairly soon.”

“Oh, dear. Well, that's a true shame,” Isadora said. “I hope I wasn't helping to grant anybody's wishes in this case—oh, dear—”

“Well, I don't think this is very happy news either,” Reed said. “Don't you have any stories that have better endings?”

“Let's see … in Marring Cross a young man proposed to the girl he loved and she accepted him. That was a happy ending,” Isadora said. “But I think true love prevails even without the services of the Dream-Maker.”