Jarrod
Dinner at Blacklands with Rhauk really unnerved Kate. We’re on our way back to Thorntyne Keep and she’s quiet and sullen, her eyes huge ovals. She’s trembling all over, hands clasped tightly together in an attempt to stop the shaking. It doesn’t.
Lord Richard greets us in the bailey and walks us to the tower room as the rest of the castle sleeps. After telling him a little of our evening with Rhauk, content that we survived intact, he bids us goodnight. The servants have prepared the room, giving us a warm glowing fire.
Kate looks numb. With mechanical movements she sits on the bed, lifts her nightgown to her face, unconsciously inhaling the smell of it. Her eyes lift to mine. ‘You know you’re going to have to fight him.’
I stare at her. She means Rhauk and she has to be joking. ‘Are you crazy?’
She sighs a kind of weary disappointment. ‘Well, I can’t see any other way.’
‘Really? So how exactly am I supposed to do this?’ She knows just how incapable I am of fighting anyone, let alone Rhauk with his tricky magic. I cringe remembering tonight’s display with the needles. ‘Had I known your plan I would have brought along a semiautomatic machine gun.’
‘This is not a joke, Jarrod.’
Her comment stings. ‘I know.’ But I’m annoyed with myself more than with Kate. After all, she’s here for my sake. And I realise that I disappoint her. ‘I just don’t know what you expect of me.’
She groans, tugging the nightshirt up to her face again, this time completely burying her nose in it and taking a deep exhilarating breath. She does this sort of thing all the time, with the heavy drapes, or a tapestry on a wall, even the candle holders. This morning I saw her inhaling the scent of a washing bowl! She loves this era and she loves being here. I think it’s more than just the opportunity to live history. Maybe it’s because she has no history herself. Not knowing her mother, not even knowing who her father is.
Lowering the nightgown, Kate traces adoring fingers gently over the hand-stitched embroidery. ‘You have to acknowledge your gift.’ Her eyes find mine across the room and her voice hardens. ‘Because you have to use your powers to defeat him!’
‘Kate … Don’t start …’
She tosses the nightgown to the bed angrily. ‘How can you not believe in yourself after all we’ve been through? Look at where we are! A real life castle in medieval Britain! Doesn’t that tell you something? You have to admit now that Jillian can perform magic and yes, there is a curse on you. You just spent the evening with the man who created it!’ She pauses while I absorb this. ‘Stop and think, Jarrod. Let yourself believe. I’ve been right so far, all the way. Just maybe I’m right about your gift too!’
I try to do what she says, let myself believe. But it’s just so hard. My life has been one hard knock after another, how can I suddenly start believing that I’m endowed with incredible magical powers? The idea is beyond me.
‘Look,’ she tries again. ‘It could be possible that you have inherited Rhauk’s own powers.’
I glance at her earnestly. What is she saying?
‘That could make you at least as powerful, if not more so. The possibility is there.’
‘Why Rhauk?’
She looks exasperated. ‘Remember your father’s heritage book. You are directly descended from these people. If Rhauk did kidnap Lionel’s young bride and seduced or raped her, and you descended from that union …’ She lets the rest fade.
It’s enough though to make me see what she means. There is sorcery in my ancestry. I saw it tonight with my own eyes. ‘God, you could be right.’
She smiles, motions for me to turn around. While I do, I hear her changing into her nightgown. When I turn around she’s climbed into bed. The fire is dying and the air is getting chilly. I change briskly and climb in beside her.
This time something’s different. She doesn’t cringe or anything, neither does she roll towards the furthest side of the bed. I don’t think she wants to be alone tonight. Rhauk really shook her up. And if it’s just company she’s after, someone to comfort her when the fire dies and the shadows lengthen, then that’s fine with me.
So we sit with our backs against the magnificently carved timber headpiece, quietly aware of each other but in a comfortable way. ‘If I do have these powers, how would I, um, tap into them?’
She lifts my hand between both of hers. Her fingers are warm. ‘All you have to do is concentrate.’
‘That sounds easy enough.’
Kate’s lips curve downwards. ‘Well, it’s not really. It takes time and a lot of practice. You have to train. Hard.’