At his bidding, I stepped into the circle and began to sing.
9
Uriah
Her presence had taken me off guard, and the truth almost slipped from my lips. Her eyes had darkened as she considered my words and yet instead of retreating, she stayed to learn. We sang together, and the outpouring of magic left me weary. I sent her away early, watching, once again, to ensure she returned to High Tower Castle in safety before returning to muse. What should I tell her about the past? The truth seemed so far-fetched I hardly believed it at times. Yet my soul reached out, wanting to speak, share and bond with her. I’d locked myself up for far too long. Perhaps it would ease my soul to have a friend, someone I could speak openly with, to allow myself to feel the depth of an emotion other than pain.
She kept coming and my attempts to keep her at a distance grew weaker. Each week she arrived like a breath of fresh air come to brighten my lonely evenings. I gave her magic and she sang, her voice growing stronger with each lesson.
Until, one day, she returned three days after her lesson instead of letting a full week pass by. I heard the telling thump of the horse trotting through the wood and then her calm tones as she soothed it, promising to return. She knocked at the door and I whispered a spell, allowing it to open and let her in. Whenever she entered, the air shifted with vibrance, for she was full of light and life. She was a beacon of sunshine, and although I wanted to hold her at a distance, to hold myself back from her, she consumed my every waking thought.
Slipping the cloak from her shoulders, she hung it up as I walked down the staircase to meet her, a question in my gaze as she held up a basket.
“I know it’s too early for another lesson,” she admitted, holding the basket in front of her with both hands.
I smiled at the hopeful glimmer in her eyes. “Why did you come?”
“I brought you this.” She crossed the space between us and pressed it into my hands. “A gift for your time. It’s only been a month but I’ve already noticed an improvement.”
A gift. She’d surprised me yet again. It was clear that I’d misjudged her. Placing the basket on a nearby table, I opened it to find a jar of honey, a bottle of wine and dried meats.
“I didn’t know what you would want,” she said softly, “but it’s lonely here and I can’t imagine what you do for food. The castle has more than is needed.”
She cared, truly cared, beyond the simple exchange of a teacher and student. Stunned by her gift and thoughtfulness, I reached for her, taking her hand and then pressed it between mine. Her skin was still cool from the ride and she smelled like roses and wind. A small sound escaped her throat and then I released her.
“Come, share a meal with me,” I invited.
“No lessons today?” She breathed. “Only conversation?”
I regarded the curve of her wide lips. A sudden urge to trace them with my thumb and devour her forced me to draw my gaze away. “Only conversation,” I repeated, somewhat roughly. Turning my back to her, I struggled for control. It would be all too simple and easy to take her, and she’d undone me with her kindness.
Little did she know I often went to the castle to steal food and drink for myself. Ah, the fates laughed at me again. For a moment I was tempted to invite her upstairs to my haunted lair, but there would be no going back after that. “Sit.” I waved my hand at the room, barren of any place to sit, except the stairs. “Anywhere you like.”
I unpacked the basket, glad to distract myself by keeping my hands busy.
“How did you learn the music?” she asked, clasping her hands in front of her. “Was it something you always had?”
A dangerous question. My thoughts returned to my upbringing and my desire to have something of my own, something beautiful to create. “If one has the gift, it is always within you.”
She cocked her head, studying me. “Do you often do that?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Deflect questions. I’ve noticed you don’t like to talk about yourself.”
She was bold. “I don’t because there is not much to say.”
Biting her lower lip, she considered my words for a moment and plunged ahead. “Will you tell me what you know about High Tower then? It’s odd here, why?”
“Aye, the mists, the silence, I’m surprised anyone still lives here,” I admitted, knowing I had to choose my words carefully. “Once though, it wasn’t like this. Long ago, knights were sent here to keep the town safe, but their actions were vile and the gods cursed them with misery and pain. One by one, the people in this town died and the knights were left to eternal damnation, lest they find a way to break the curse. If you notice, there is no life here, because there is no light. Only the fish in the sea bring life here, everything else comes from trade.”
Her expression changed, her mind working as she struggled to understand the tale I weaved. “There’s something that haunts the castle, some call it a creature of the night.”
I went still. “What happened there?”
“Someone was killed.”
Killed. It was happening again. I fought to keep my expression blank as she told me about the pranks played on the Count. Some I could take credit for, but I listened wordlessly. “Does it frighten you?”
