The Stumpwork Robe (The Chronicles of Eirie 1) (27 page)

Chapter Forty

Adelina’s mood reflected the sky. As grey as grief. Except the sky had streaks of white in it, clouds of stratus which made the expanse of grey look like a piece of Venichese water-wave taffeta, fabric the cognoscenti adored. But there was no such relief of unmitigated grey in Adelina’s mood. Within hours she would have lost the only friend she had within this prison. And her life, without the hope of seeing Kholi again, stretched out before her like an expanse of wasteland. She had still not cried. Deep inside, a fire burned to be sure. But it was the fire of hate, of revenge, and that allowed no room for grief. Especially not grief for the love of one’s life. Even the uneasy melancholy that had ensued on Ana’s death had disappeared as the fires of hate consumed her. One thing shone like a beacon; the fact the souls would be out of
Severine’s reach. That she would not achieve her dream of immortality. Not
with the souls of Liam and Elriade. And as each day passed as she searched for more souls, she would grow older and more vulnerable and it would give Adelina time. Time to avenge deaths.

Midday arrived and no one came to collect her. She paced nervously, going from window to door. Afraid she would see the swan winging its way over the seawall and out again. She sat and tried to sew but could not concentrate and repeatedly pulled the needle free of its thread until she threw everything down in frustration. As she turned from the window again, she heard the key in the lock and turned, heart jumping.

Luther stood there.

Alone.

‘Come,’ he ordered. ‘And bring a coat, it’s cool.’

She grabbed a quilted jacket and hastened after him.

‘Where is... Meriope?’

‘Fetching a basket of food from the kitchens. She will meet us at the gate.’

Adelina closed her eyes in relief, feeling her way down the cool stonewall at the side of the stair. Her fingers brushed against large Raji carpets in jewel colours hanging on the circular walls. She hated that her prison was so beautifully appointed, so thoughtfully furnished, that it was comfortable, that the gardens were a delight. She wished everything was unmitigated horror, like some dracule’s castle, so she could hate more and feed her hate with more hate.

Lhiannon was at the gate and Adelina spoke to her in a surly tone.
‘I hope you didn’t bring the same apples as yesterday because they were floury and bitter. If your mistress wants my best work then she should feed me with due consideration.’

Lhiannon hung her head in a suitably chastised manner.

‘Your complaint is noted.’ Luther pushed Adelina in the gate and gave
Lhiannon a little shove after her. ‘An hour.’
He glanced at them both and shut the large wooden gate behind him. They heard the key grind in the lock and knew he went to his place on the widow’s walk at the very top of the house where he could watch. Wasting no time, Lhiannon blew on the feather and the two women hurried to the warmer climes of the willow.

An oriental duck swam past as they took their places, neither speaking. The duck’s exotic black, white and chestnut plumage might have caught Adelina’s eye at another time, but instead she turned inward, not wanting to think about Lhiannon leaving. And then she could bear it no longer. ‘I’ll miss you and truth to tell, I’m not sure how I will manage without you.’
There.
I have said it.

Lhiannon turned to her, her eyes kind. ‘Adelina, you are filled with courage.  I have no doubt such strength will stand you in good stead. Things will work out in ways we could never imagine and we may see each other again. Trust me when I say you’ll not be alone. There are Others here, kind Others. We will find ways. You must rest easy.’

As she reached to tuck her hand inside Adelina’s arm, the willow branches undulated aside and the black swan glided through.

‘Oh!’ Adelina jumped off the seat. ‘We didn’t hear you.’

Maeve walked toward them, woman not swan.
‘Maeve is ever discrete and does not trumpet presence.’ She looked directly at Lhiannon, a faint curl to the lips. ‘Art thou ready, Faeran?’

‘Yes.’ Lhiannon stood, the whip-thin body trembling like the petals of a fritillaria.

Maeve took a feather from inside the bosom of her gown and as Lhiannon had done earlier, blew gently down its length. The sable feather
extended from its tip and grew, flowing to form a cloak of blackish green hue. It lay lightly on the swan-maid’s arm. ‘Thou art lucky Maeve felt sorrow for the souls of Faeran and placed an eloquent case before her sister maids. Another swan-maid agreed to lend her cloak and Maeve will guide, Faeran will fly.’ She passed the soft cloak to Lhiannon. ‘Adelina,’ Maeve turned to the embroiderer. ‘Thou can secure severe punishment for Severine from Others. We can tell thee how or if thou requires, Others shall do it for she is a murderer of our own.’

Adelina looked up at the beautiful white face with its calculating eyes and carmine mouth. If it had not been so flawlessly magnificent and Other, she would have thought there was a likeness to Severine.

‘No. Her punishment shall be mine to exact. Liam was my friend, Kholi was my love. And had Elriade not angered Severine by giving me the silk, it is possible she may have survived. No, I shall do this. I must. It will help cleanse my soul.’

‘And how wilt thou escape this place?’

‘I don’t know. I am in no hurry. I have the robe to finish in my own way and I must plan diligently. I shall take my time.’

‘Then it is time for thee to leave, Faeran. Put on swan’s-down.’

The feathery cloak slipped up Lhiannon’s arms. Adelina watched as the girl metamorphosed, her body shortening, the arms folding into black wings with white wing tips, her head with its black hair becoming the graceful, long-necked head of the swan. She waddled on red legs to the side of the pond and followed the swan-maid into the water. Briefly turning her head on the long willowy neck, she fixed Adelina with a friendly, very un-swan like eye and honked quietly. Adelina lifted her hand and mouthed ‘Good fortune.’

The two black swans rose off the water, one after the other into the air. Up over the sea wall and higher, banking along the coastline. Adelina realised she had no idea of Maeve’s plans thereafter and prayed to Aine to keep Lhiannon safe.

As she moved away from the willow, she heard running feet and on turning the corner, saw Luther, Severine and some heavy men running down the walk toward her.

‘Where is she?’ Severine spat the words at Adelina.

‘Meriope? I sent her to the potager,’ she gestured with her arm to the far side of the walled garden where a tall hedge shielded a vegetable garden from the sea wind. ‘I wanted strawberries.’ she prevaricated, praying.

Severine reached back and swung with an open palm. Connecting with
Adelina’s cheek, she nearly knocked the embroiderer over. Adelina saw a universe of stars as the force of the hit scrambled her thoughts.

‘You liar! Luther was watching! He saw one swan come in and two leave. She was a swan-maid, wasn’t she?’ She hit Adelina again, this time on the other cheek. ‘Look at me, bitch. You knew! She has taken the souls. I know because I went to your room and you thought to cheat me with this?’
She screeched as she threw a piece of satin at Adelina’s feet. ‘By
Behir, woman, I could kill you, you have no idea what you have done.’

‘But I do, Severine,’ Adelina replied with as much calm as she could muster, refusing to place hands against her burning, throbbing cheeks. ‘I know exactly what I have done. And I would do it again and again and again because you are a liar. Worse, you are a murderer. You can’t bribe me with Kholi’s and Liam’s safety because I know they are dead. So kill me. I have absolutely nothing to live for. Do it!’

Her calm resolve appeared to shake Severine. The woman stood for a moment in an apparent quandary then allowed a vicious smile to wipe clean the uncharacteristic confusion. ‘Let me see, what is worse? To end your life or to continue forcing you to embroider the robe. Well for sure working for me will be purgatory, won’t it, akin to being damned? But how to make you? HAH!’ Her eyes lit up with the brightness of an idea. ‘Bring her, Luther and bring your harquebus.’

One of the men came up behind Adelina and pushed her hard and she followed Severine to a barred fenestration in a brick wall through which she glimpsed fields, a sickeningly pastoral scene.

‘Look,’ Severine grabbed her and pinching with her fingers, pulled her to the opening. Adelina caught her breath. There on the far side of the field, grazing with a herd of mares was Ajax. Her hands came up to her mouth and the tears that had remained dry for days, welled up and overflowed. Her Ajax, the only family remaining. Loyal, faithful Ajax with the back broad enough to be that of the unseelie Cabyll Ushtey.

‘Yes,’ Severine drawled. ‘Ajax. Luther, fire!’

Adelina spun around as the muzzle of the weapon appeared over her shoulder, aiming at Ajax. ‘NO,’ she screamed, knocking it wide. ‘No! I’ll do what you want!’

Severine nodded complacently.
‘Indeed. Then you shall sew, Adelina, because Ajax’s life depends on it. Every day you shall take your walk and every day you will come to the window and if you have been good, you will see him there. Do you hear me?’

Adelina nodded, aware of the stalemate, unable to stop the tears and thinking Severine was worse than any Other she had heard of. Worse than the Hag, the Hunt, the Barguest, Black Annis, all manner of malfeasant wights whose purpose it was to maim and trouble mortals even to the point of death.

‘Where has she gone?’ Severine grabbed the embroiderer’s arm and twisted it up her back. Adelina hunched away from the drag on her tender nerves and muscles.

‘I don’t know. She had a feather and she called the swan-maid and they planned this between them. She’s of the Faeran, Severine, you have truly aroused their ire.’

Severine laughed, a freezing tinkle that provoked shivers.
‘And you think I care? When I have this?’ She held up her finger with the battered ring on it. ‘So the girl is Faeran. Crafty chit. Well no matter. She’s with a swan. She can only go to the swan haunts. My hunters will soon find her and when they do, I’ll retrieve the souls and then you shall complete the robe and my dream will come to fruition.’

‘Why not catch more souls, Severine? Why chase her? She could be anywhere.’

‘Stupid woman. Because she has defied me, stood in my way and I shall punish her. Let it be a lesson, Adelina. Those who deny me, die. I shall find her, never fear. I have many ways of seeking.’

Adelina, sickened by the self-important preening of Severine, felt the dam wall holding her emotions cracking and collapsing; no Kholi to remind her that self-opinionated rhetoric was ever her undoing. She spewed forth. ‘Aine you are full of yourself, so cocksure. How do you, such a mundane mortal, plan to do this? With more Luthers, more men all over Eirie?’

Severine coloured but remained cool.
‘In a manner of speaking.’ She whistled, a high-pitched sound with tongue against her teeth, a shrill call that peeled shreds from Adelina’s nerves. Curious baying, like the sound of wind through large pipes filled the air as a pack of wild white hounds ran into the garden seeming from nowhere. Above them fluttered three black ravens, shape-changing as they landed on the ground, to swarthy, black clad men. Severine’s own men, Luther included, backed away from them and from the unseelie hounds whose eyes glowed red and who snarled through rapacious teeth.
She laughed.
‘Do you know the Cwn Annwn? The hounds of the Wild Hunt? The Gabble Retchet, Herl’s Rade? They could sniff her out, even that thieving little chit. And my black ravens, the Black Ravens of Mimring? They can fly anywhere and find her. She stands no chance.’

Adelina cringed as a hound sniffed her skirts. His hackles stood on high and every thing about him spelled hell and damnation. Her heart sank as she realised this‘changeling’, her lifelong enemy was so much more than any of them had ever realised. Severine snarled in a fierce dialect and Adelina realised she was speaking Other, disbelief rampant as she felt her hand grabbed by the icy fingers of her adversary. She was dragged to the garden gate. With her other hand, Severine clicked her fingers, spoke a charm and the Cwn Annwn and the Mimring
Ravens vanished.
‘I have studied much over the years, Adelina, and money opens so many doors, Others included. I have access to things you could only dream of.’

Adelina could barely believe the limits to which Severine had gone. That many a mortal had tried to achieve at the cost of their own lives. Her horror knew no bounds and she continued to erupt with unbridled fury. ‘All except the power of immortality, eh, Severine? Didn’t you realise
Liam had forgone his immortality? His soul will hardly be of use.’ She had a desperate need to unsettle the woman’s superiority. ‘What a
shame… so near and yet so far.’ A cracking blow on the side of her head let her know she had rubbed too hard and by Aine it hurt.

Severine’s face filled with hatred as she hissed back. ‘If what you say is true and I doubt it, it is of no matter. I shall find another, of that I am positive. Perhaps Meriope’s,’ she turned to her thugs. ‘Take her away, she bores me.’

Luther and another grabbed Adelina’s arms and she was dragged up to her
room, head ringing, cheeks stinging. But it felt so good for she had, just this once, fought back and fought back well. The pain was evidence.