The Merqueen (The Witching World Book 3) Page 7

  “Clara.” I nudged one eye open, then the other, then closed them both again. Marcelo looked sharp in a black dinner jacket, and he’d done something to tame his hair.

  “Clara, it’ll be dinnertime soon. Why don’t you get cleaned up and dressed for dinner? Then you can rest tonight and wake up refreshed tomorrow morning.”

  It seemed like a good idea. However, I couldn’t get my body to move.

  “There hasn’t been the need for a lady’s maid in the house for quite some time. Anna here will assist you and dress you for now, if that will be all right with you.”

  I opened my eyes again and nodded my assent.

  Marcelo’s eyes shifted to the housemaid. “Anna, settle Lady Clara into the yellow room on the east end of the house. She’ll want a bath first, and then you can go through Clarissa’s clothing to find something suitable for her until Lady Clara can have her own wardrobe here.”

  Marcelo grew timid at the mention of his sister. Some wounds took only a passing thought to reopen. “Will that be all right, Clara?”

  “Yes, that’ll be fine. Thank you.” Marcelo helped me sit up, and Anna rushed over to help me stand. Then she led me out of the parlor and up the grand staircase, further into the strange house that might become mine.

  I didn’t look back at Marcelo.

  The bath and clean clothing revived me more than I thought they would, and, despite my continued exhaustion, I began to notice something else that was missing. At first, I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. But then it grew, and it took shape.

  Had Anna been Maggie, I would have talked to her about what was going on. But Anna wasn’t Maggie, and that one lacking fact made me miss Maggie all the more. The patterns were so familiar that I expected to see Maggie behind me in the mirror, fixing my hair in one of her intricate braided hairstyles.

  I smiled at Anna timidly. She was a stranger allowed into my intimate world.

  But I didn’t let her into my thoughts, and soon I forgot even to share encouraging smiles and conversation with her. Something was brewing within me, something big, and by the time Anna showed me to the parlor again to meet Marcelo, I knew precisely what it was.

  “Will that be all for now, Lady Clara?” Anna asked.

  “Yes, Anna, thank you,” I said and turned to Marcelo while the door shut behind us. At Norland Manor, Father and Mother would never have allowed us to be unsupervised together behind closed doors. But nothing had been according to custom since I left Norland. Even now, with a full serving staff again, things wouldn’t completely go back to normal. Marcelo and I weren’t normal. There was little chance of us indulging the pretense.

  “You look radiant, my darling.”

  “Thank you.”

  “We’ll need to get married soon.” He walked over and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulled me to him, and breathed in the scent of me.

  “Yes, perhaps.” I wouldn’t let him distract me now. I’d come downstairs prepared.

  “If Count Norland knew we were under the same roof without a chaperon, he’d take down this roof trying to get to us, to separate us.”

  “I’m certain he would. But my father thinks me dead, and so, for that reason alone, we’re spared from scandal.” I persisted. “Marcelo, I know you may not like what I have to say, but I’ve made up my mind. I won’t just sit here, developing my powers to suit a madman, until he’s in the mood to come fetch me.” I stepped away from Marcelo to pace around the assorted chairs and tables that adorned the parlor. Already the room was more inviting. The servants had opened the windows while I bathed and dressed. Sunshine made everything look brighter.

  “I don’t know what powers Count Washur has,” I continued, “although I do know he was powerful enough to overcome Albacus and your father. He’s obviously a master of manipulation. He has Salazar convinced that you are a terrible man. But I don’t care. I don’t care how powerful he is, or that he can somehow draw in someone as egotistical and unhinged as Winston. I can’t just wait for him to come take me. No matter how dangerous it might be for me to seek him out to confront him, it is a better fate to stand in my own power and come to him, I think. Waiting for my eventual death, or worse, submission to him, is no life at all. If I must die at his hand, then I’d rather get it over with sooner than later.”

  Marcelo started to speak, but I stopped him with a raised hand. I wanted to get it all out before he tried to convince me otherwise. “I know I still have much to learn about magic. But I’m a willing student. I’ll work hard to learn anything that might help me. I’ll practice and study spells. I’ll work to become more comfortable with the elements. You have plenty to teach me, and perhaps after that we might return to Irele so that Mordecai can teach me some more. By then, after you’ve trained me, I hope he’ll have dealt with Albacus’ death enough to be able to focus on instructing me. Then, once I’m ready, I can go to Washur again. You don’t even need to come with me if you don’t want to. But I must.”

  I stopped my pacing to find Marcelo’s eyes from across the room. “I can’t give my life to waiting for death, that would be paramount to a life not lived at all. And if there’s anything I know, it’s that we’re born into these lives to live them, to become who we’re capable of becoming. I won’t let a dark lunatic rob me of that. That’s far worse than robbing me of life through death. Living a life that means nothing is something I won’t concede to such a despicable man.

  “You may not understand why I have to do this, and I know you won’t agree. But, Marcelo, I see no other choice that allows me to be myself. Especially now, when there’s so much for me to discover about myself, when I have finally learned that I am not Lady Clara of Norland, eldest daughter of the Count and Countess of Norland, bred only for inheritance and prestige. I’m so much more than that. And I have no idea yet how much more than that I am. But I want the chance to find out. A life of waiting in fear of Count Washur’s shadow steals that chance. And I can’t become your wife until I know who I am.”

  I stopped to compose more thoughts.

  “Are you finished?” he asked.

  I wasn’t. The righteous anger and passion were only just now rising to the top and beginning to boil over. Still, I nodded to him, but then said, “I know you won’t agree. I know you’ll say it’s too dangerous. But I have to, certainly you’ll come to see that I have to. My life’s already dangerous.” I breathed in to continue.

  “Clara.” Marcelo approached me. I started to speak again, but he interrupted me. “Just wait a moment, please Clara, before you work yourself up any more.”

  I stopped and looked at him with big, soft eyes.

  “I agree with you,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I said, I agree with you.”

  “You do? But why? What I suggest is very dangerous. I’ll be seeking out a very powerful, crazy dark man who intends to kill me.”

  “Yes, you will. But as you so eloquently said, no one wants to live life waiting for something awful to happen. Awful things happen at times, whether we look for them or not, whether we think they’ll come or not.”

  Marcelo’s voice softened. “I don’t wish for you to live a life where you must always look over your shoulder, wondering when Count Washur will decide you’re powerful enough for him.”

  After all that I’d said, and all that I thought I still had to say, Marcelo left me speechless. It had not occurred to me that he might agree.

  “We can stay here while you complete your training. We can continue where we left off in Irele. There’s so much that you didn’t get the opportunity to explore before the attack. You weren’t able to attempt the creation of water or earth. I can teach you everything I know, and together we can explore things I can’t teach you, like what this fifth element that you discovered is. While you practice, I’ll research Count Washur to see what I can unearth about his powers. It would be helpful to have a greater understanding of what we are up against.”

  Marcelo turned his gaze upward
, through thick floors, to where he knew his father’s study was, haunted with dark memories. “It’s possible that my father might have left information behind that’ll help us defeat Count Washur. An enemy’s always most dangerous when he’s misunderstood. Once I’ve taught you everything I know, I think it would be wise to return to Mordecai and Irele as you suggested. Besides, he may want to join us in attacking Count Washur. He has as much a reason for it as we do.”

  Us. I wasn’t alone in this, and though I didn’t want to put the men I cared for at risk, my heart beat a little lighter knowing they’d be with me as I confronted the most terrible trial of my life.

  “But can we think of all that tomorrow, Clara? The day’s been long enough as it is.”

  I smiled faintly and nodded.

  “Allow me to take you into the dining room. It’ll be nice to enjoy a proper dinner together in what’ll become our home.” Marcelo guided me by the arm. “And I understand that you want to postpone our marriage until all this business with Count Washur is resolved, but our being here while you prepare will give us the opportunity to fix the house to better suit our needs”—he looked around the dining room as we entered it—“and temperament.”

  I nodded again and smiled, as if a weight had been lifted from my heart. Us. I wasn’t alone. I was part of an us, and it was a powerful us that I was happy to be a part of.

  “Good evening, Lady Clara.” Sir Lancelot waited for us in the dining room, perched on the edge of a side table. He wore a gentleman’s jacket, its tails imitating and merging with his own.

  I smiled. It felt good to smile again. “Good evening, Sir Lancelot. You look quite dashing.”

  If an Irish pygmy owl that could talk could also blush, Sir Lancelot would have. He stretched an extra half inch taller. “Thank you, Lady Clara. You look quite striking yourself, if you don’t mind my saying.”

  “I don’t mind at all, Sir Lancelot.”

  “But I do,” Marcelo said, while he pulled out my chair.

  Sir Lancelot grew flustered before he realized Marcelo was teasing, and I thought I might actually end up enjoying this end to a day that dawned with the horrible reality of me as a captive.

  Nothing was predictable anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time.

  Chapter 13

  I rose with the sun. Now that the fire element was a constant part of me, the rhythms of the great fireball that governed so much life on this planet called to me as well. When the sun stirred, so did I.

  I opened my eyes, but I couldn’t make out many of the room’s still-unfamiliar details. Last night’s candle was on the bedside table. Yet I didn’t reach for it. I hadn’t told anyone, not even Marcelo, but I had noticed my eyesight improving in remarkable ways as my magic grew in strength. I could see better in the dark now, and I crossed the floor toward the window with ease.

  I turned the handle and pulled. The window resisted. I pulled harder until it finally budged, knocking me back a step. Cool air seeped through the closed shutters, and I prepared myself for the inevitable shock of the brisk, high mountain spring air.

  With the sunshine came the cold, but it didn’t bother me. It would take much more than a gust of cool, crisp air to move me from the course I’d chosen for myself that day.

  My window faced the steep climb up the mountain, though I would have preferred to see the sea that bordered the other side of the castle. Two lone men with bags strapped to their horses were slow climbing toward the castle. Provisions. I hoped that meant the staff was already awake.

  I had no way of knowing how Castle Bundry operated, so I did as I would have done at Norland. I rang the bell and waited. Too anxious to get the day going, I paced until the door finally clicked open.

  “Hello, Anna.”

  “Good morning, milady.”

  “I hope I didn’t wake you. I don’t know how you’re used to doing things around here.”

  “We wake at sunrise, milady. Mrs. Rosemore’s already cooking breakfast.”

  “Oh, that’s good news. I’m in a hurry to be dressed. I have much to do today.” My voice betrayed my excitement. Most twenty-year-olds were probably looking forward to a day of outings, luncheons, tea, and courting. I had something far more sinister planned, and I couldn’t wait to get to it.

  I was nearly finished with breakfast by the time Marcelo joined me in the dining room. “I’m so glad you’re up,” I said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Marcelo kissed the top of my head, at the apex of braids that twisted in defiance of normal finger dexterity. Anna was as skilled as Maggie.

  “Good morning, my darling. I take it that you rested well?”

  “I did,” I said, hurrying past pleasantries to what was foremost on my thoughts. “Can we begin as soon as you break your fast?”

  Marcelo settled into his seat. “Begin what, darling?”

  “My magic lessons.” How wasn’t that obvious?

  “Oh well, yes, but I can’t attend to them immediately after our meal. I have to tend to the needs of the household first. I’m to meet with Carlton to begin organizing ourselves and setting the ways of the house as we like.” He reached for my hand. It was a nice sentiment, and I did want to make the castle more comfortable for us. But the day-to-day activities of the aristocracy had always bored me. I had no interest in subjecting myself to them now when there were so many better things to do.

  “Might I begin on my own? Until you’re ready to join me? I can barely think clearly because of all that I don’t know how to do in magic yet.”

  Marcelo looked at me. I could almost see the thoughts converging in his mind as he considered the risks of sending me off on my own to explore magic. We both had vivid memories of my past unpredictable (and dangerous) attempts at Irele and Lake Creston.

  And there was more, so much more: the mysterious fifth element that joined the other four elements within me; my ability to unbind myself when no other magician could; the discrepancy that I had no magical blood in my line, yet the seeds for great power germinated inside me.

  “I don’t think so, Clara.” He was shaking his head. “It’s not a good idea. We don’t know what might happen when you explore the elements.”

  “I’ll be cautious.”

  Marcelo barked in abrupt laughter, but I forgave him for it since he seemed to find genuine humor in my predicament.

  He smiled. “Clara, I don’t think you’re capable of caution.”

  A crestfallen look threatened to descend upon me, and Marcelo scurried to prevent it. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing, darling. You can’t be cautious in everything and exceed previous boundaries. You can’t explore the unknown with timidity. It doesn’t work that way.”

  I didn’t think Marcelo had meant to prove my point for me, but I appreciated it just the same.

  He sighed in defeat. “Your powers are so great. We have no idea what you’re capable of.”

  “And we won’t know if I don’t find out.”

  “Clara, exploring your powers on your own’s very dangerous.”

  “Yes, Marcelo, it is. But my life has been dangerous since you—and magic—came into my life. Wouldn’t you say so?”

  Marcelo was reluctant to admit it.

  “All right,” I said. “Since the fever came over me and you came to my rescue, I’ve burned every part of my body, been ambushed by a demented former fiancé twice, been stolen by a whole race of underwater people, been kidnapped and almost killed by your nephew, assaulted by a nasty satyr, and threatened with death or something worse by your father’s evil mentor. Am I not seeing something?”

  “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.” And Marcelo meant it. “You’re right. Danger’s already everywhere around you.” He smiled a sad smile. “I’ll have to get used to that.”

  “Either that, or we can find a way to defeat Count Washur so he can’t bother us or anyone else ever again.”

  “Yes, that would be good.”

  “So we’re agreed? I begin my explora
tions of my magic now, on my own?”

  “Yes. As you pointed out so ably”—another smile—“you’re already in grave danger just by being who you are. The additional danger of discovering the elements’ capabilities is outweighed by how you might benefit from it. We need to discover your true powers and anticipate what Count Washur might do to counteract them.”

  “All right then.” I rose.

  “You won’t stay with me until I finish breakfast?”

  “I’d love to, but I have things I must attend to.” I used Mother’s rules of politeness, but nullified them with the mischievous smile I flashed Marcelo. I was at the door already before he could say more.

  “Take Sir Lancelot with you, at least until I’m free.”

  “All right. Where is he?”

  “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”

  “I’ll look for him.”

  “Good. I don’t know what he can do to assist you since he can’t do magic, but at least he can come get me if you need help.”

  I dipped out of the doorway before he could change his mind.

  Chapter 14

  “Sir Lancelot?” I called as I swept through the entry hall toward the stairs.

  The staircase, like the rest of the house, was grand. Its dark wood was polished and elegant. I attempted to take the stairs two at a time, but I couldn’t. The skirts of my dress got in the way, and silly heeled shoes made me awkward on my feet. I’d left the elven shoes Marcelo made me at Irele. I’d have to convince him to make me new ones.

  “Sir Lancelot?” I called out half-heartedly. I wouldn’t mind having the owl with me while I explored my powers, but I wasn’t going to delay looking for him.

  I swirled past the second floor and up toward the third. I was looking for the way to the roof. When I observed it from the ground, the roof looked like it might be flat, enclosed by a parapet. If it wasn’t, then at least it had an overlook with a view of the sea.

  I longed to go up and out, toward the openness of the elements.

  Left or right? I swiveled my head at the landing of the third floor. Which way would lead me to the freedom I craved? There had to be a secondary staircase somewhere, at least for the servant quarters. Where was the one that led me where I wanted to go?