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Nara could see the concern in Haven before Lord Orman’s walking cane changed before her. It had done that before, and although it frightened her when the blade formed, she knew somewhere deep inside her that she was more powerful—that she had nothing to fear from him.
She had seen the fear in his eyes when he had focused on their joined hands over the stones at her belt. They were comforting for the first time in this life. They hadn’t been willing to tell her anything, no whispers and no idea of where the danger was. But even without the stones telling her, she knew that the old man standing before her now, the one she had died to escape in the last life, was the threat. And yet he wasn’t strong enough to be a true threat to them.
It was like when she had first seen him in the forest. She was frightened, as she knew she should be, but there were other issues, other dangers bigger than him that she had to face first. The stones weren’t sharing that now, not even a sense of what was out there, yet she knew she had to fear this man. He was far more responsible for their lives than they had understood, and yet now, standing with a sword pointed at her, he didn’t seem nearly as frightening as he should.
Magic hummed through her, not just through the sword but her whole body. It gave her a strength she had not known she possessed. She had taken on monsters before, had not hesitated no matter the fear she felt. Her understanding that she did not need to fear the monster before her worried her. Was there something else coming? Something or someone else that Father had promised himself to in order to get the power he had so desperately wanted?
He stood behind her now. She wanted to ask the question, demand some answers from him, although she knew she would never get them. He had never been honest with her, and he never would be. No matter the support her sister provided, he would never let Wren in either. Nara wondered if he had ever cared for her mother. He had blamed Nara for her death for long enough, but that might have only been her perception as a child.
Lord Orman grinned, and Nara remained unmoving. Haven had stepped in closer to her, his hand still on the pouch at her waist. He put her hand on his. She could feel how real he was, and she realised that was why she was calm. They were together; that was all she needed. Did it matter if her father had ever cared for her mother? Did it matter why the Fates dragged them apart and then pulled them together?
She was tired, but the rest of the world didn’t matter when she was with him. She wanted to lower her sword and walk away with him, but her body had other ideas to her heart. The sword remained pointing towards the old lord, its glow another comfort. It wasn’t right, different to all the other lives, and yet it was more right, perfect in a way, as though it had all been leading to this life.
Lord Orman hadn’t moved. He had raised his sword but remained still. He was too steady, Nara thought, looking at him and the sword that seemed to reflect the light of her own. Or did the world seem bright with sunshine?
“I want the stones,” he growled, a strength in him she wondered at. Despite his steady hold of the sword, he appeared as something else. Even when he had held her in the first life, he had appeared already long dead. Cold and hard and sharp.
“Why?” she asked. “Wasn’t it me you needed?”
“How did you get them?” Frustration rose in his voice, yet he remained still and steady and too calm.
“I have always had them,” she told him.
“Always?” he asked, something like a smirk appearing again at the corner of his mouth. She wondered how much of their lives he knew and how much he was responsible for.
“Beneath the fire tree,” she started, wondering why she would tell him anything. A flash of confusion crossed his face, and then he nodded as though for her to continue.
The hum of magic resonated through her core, and a hound rubbed against her leg as though it felt it too. Lord Orman did not understand their lives, not wholly. He might have been getting closer, yet he had not known of the fire tree.
Haven’s arm flexed beneath her grip as he held tighter to the stones, and for a moment she feared he might pull them from her belt. Then she glanced up at him, wondering if he had heard something.
He moved quickly, stepping in front of her and slicing downward with his broad, solid sword. It should have snapped the walking stick in half, but the sound of metal on metal rang out through the dining hall. The air became cooler, as though the stone was pulling the heat from the room.
Nara missed the fire. As she thought of it, it sprang to life, blazing across the logs that remained in the fireplace. One of the hounds yipped again, as though in excitement. Despite Haven’s attack, the old man was still watching her. He had stepped back with the sword in his hand. He lowered it, and it turned back into a walking cane.
He remained before them, still watching. Haven stood before Nara, almost blocking her view of the old man. Both hands wrapped around the handle of his sword, held at the ready before him, and as he shifted, she could see it too was aglow with a brilliant white light. It had always been white, she thought, transfixed by the blade.
In that moment Haven released one hand from the sword and reached around to push her behind him. The walking stick changed again, rapidly lengthening and forming a large bulb on the end, which Orman swung too easily towards them.
Fear shot through Nara that she would lose Haven. This life was too different for her to rely on meeting him in the next life. She stepped out from behind him, firing her lightning straight into the old man, and in the same instant the fire flared brighter.
Nara blinked in the bright light, worried that it would cause the same blinding effect the lightning had had on her in the last life. The room was filled with light, as though she was suddenly transported to another world. Or was it simply that she was seeing parts of the room and the people in it not previously exposed to light?
One of the hounds howled. The sound reverberated around the room and, when the light dimmed, Nara realised the old man was gone. She stepped forward as Haven’s hand dropped away, and then it closed around the back of her shirt as though he couldn’t let her out of his reach. The light didn’t die away. She glanced around the room, searching for the man who had been before her. She had fired lightning at him already, and it had barely made a mark. She doubted they had defeated him so easily.
Her father and sister stood behind her, and she wondered if they were in fact another version of the family she had left behind. Father was not the man he had been, and her sister was not the same either. People would grow, but then how long had they waited?
“What did you do?” Wren asked, her voice wobbly.
Nara glanced at the hounds, now silent, all watching her with unnaturally red eyes.
She shook her head, turning back to where the old man had stood.
“Who else would come with him?” Haven asked.
Nara looked up at him, but he was glancing over his shoulder, focused on her family—if they were that. If they had ever been that.
Father shook his head as though he couldn’t answer, as though he didn’t know.
“Soldiers, support?” Haven asked, and her father continued to stare at them. “A horse?” Haven added, and something in the way he asked made Nara laugh. A silly giggle that she couldn’t stop. He looked down at her, cupping her face with his hand, and then he too was smiling.
“Is he not what he appears to be?” she asked when the sound subsided.
“He never was,” Haven replied, looking deep into her eyes. His were so bright, so blue. She wondered if they would ever be able to just be, as they had been in the field. And to some degree by the river.
“You are not what you appear to be,” her sister said, and Nara reluctantly broke her gaze away from Haven.
“A long time has passed,” she said, but she wondered then if it was the same for her as it had been for them.
“You are glowing,” Wren said, as though it were something to be ashamed of. Nara looked down at her sword still glowing brilliantly, as was Haven’s, and she wondered if that was an indication that the danger hadn’t passed.
“Your eyes,” Haven whispered. She looked back at him as he gently rubbed his thumb beneath her eye. He felt so real in that instant. “They are glowing like the sun.”
She wondered then if that was the reason she could see the room and those around her so clearly, and yet she looked back to the place where the old man had stood so strong and steady. “Why was he here?” she asked, her voice low.
“For you,” Father replied, as though it was something they all knew.
She shook her head. “He did not become involved with our family for me.”
Father looked at the ground then, and one of the hounds growled. Surprisingly, he stepped back as though he might fear the animal. His own beasts that she had been terrified of her whole life, yet they stood with her now.
“Lord Orman wanted something else, or you did. You brought him to us; you promised me to him. Why?”
“We needed the connection.”
Nara shook her head, and Father looked to Wren standing beside him.
“He wouldn’t take her,” he whispered, and Wren looked just as disappointed by the idea.
“What would it matter? Why allow him in?” Nara asked.
“We had no choice,” Father growled in response.
“An old man with no one, no soldiers, no support, and not even a horse,” Haven huffed.
Wren stepped forward, a hint of the sister Nara remembered just visible beneath the older woman now standing before her. Nara wondered if Wren had aged since they had arrived or if this was something she just hadn’t seen before.
“You wanted to marry him?” Nara asked.
“I wanted to be of use,” Wren said, the same anger in her voice that Nara had heard in her father’s. “I wanted to save the family and not throw it all away—run away.”
“I didn’t run,” Nara said, although she had thought many times throughout her lives that she had done just that. Selfishly leaving it all behind, just to follow Haven. But there had been nothing to stay for. This wasn’t a home; this wasn’t a family. Although she missed the younger sister she had left behind and the mother she had lost, what would it have been if she had stayed?
“You ran as far away as you could,” Wren continued.
“It wasn’t that simple,” Nara said, and yet in so many ways it was.
Wren shook her head and turned away. “You should have stayed,” she murmured before she took a step towards the door.
“And what would have changed if I had?” Nara asked her sister’s back. “Would he have taken me away and left you here, allowing you to live a life you wanted? Would the manor have prospered? Would Father have had the power and connections he needed? What would be different to the life you are living now?”
Her sister turned slowly and looked around the room. The fire blazed. Nara wondered whether she had seen it burning so brightly since they had arrived, but that had only been the day before, hadn’t it? Was time moving differently in this life as it had in all the others?
“It doesn’t matter,” Nara said, looking at the family standing before her. “If I had stayed or if I had left, it would have made no difference to either of you or this estate. He wanted something, and it didn’t matter if it was me. I am not what he was after. I was offered as...” But she wasn’t sure what she had been offered for. Whether to undo some curse Father had, or in payment for something.
She looked up at him then, wondering if that was the case—if he had promised or owed something and she was to be the price he paid for it. When she was gone, Wren had not been enough to pay off the debt.
“What did he offer?” she asked, taking a step forward. Haven moved with her, his hand still tight around her shirt. The hounds too moved as one, surrounding her, protecting her, and she raised her sword to Father. There was almost a flash of sadness that crossed his features before the hard, angry man that she had known in her first life returned.
“I am better than you think, and I am stronger than he knows.”
“You are a weak old man who sold your daughter to save yourself.” She was reminded of the last conversation they’d had the first life, and the talk of curses. Did he really think he had been cursed and she was the only way out? What had he thought he was buying?
He remained steadfast, the uncertainty and weakness she had seen earlier evaporated. He was certain and strong, and angry.
“It doesn’t matter,” Haven whispered beside her. She longed for the stones to whisper their secrets in that moment, to tell her where the monster was and how long they had left.
“Leave if you must,” Father growled. “Run away.”
“We need to stay,” she said, although she wanted to run and never look back. She understood that they had to be there, despite not knowing why. She closed her hand around the pouch at her belt. “What did you do with the stones?”
“They disappeared,” Wren snapped, and their father turned his scowl on her. “What does it matter? He will return no matter what they think they have done. And he will haunt us until he gets what he wants.”
Wren marched away then, one of the hounds barking as though to tell her to go.
“What does he want?” Haven asked.
Father turned from watching Wren walk away to look at Nara.
“You,” he said. “He has only ever wanted you.”