A Power of Old Read online

  “STOP!” I yelled.

  Instantly the pain receded, and Hazel jumped to her feet, staring at me in horror.

  “Oh, my God, Ruby, I’m so sorry!” she blurted out, already backing up toward the door. “It just seems to happen! I’m losing control…”

  “It’s okay,” I muttered, clutching my head in my hands. Jeez, it hurt. “Don’t go anywhere—please.” I gestured for her to sit back down, but had to wait a moment before I could look up at her. It felt like little elephants were dancing in my skull and the light was hurting my eyes.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “It’s not your fault. You can’t help it,” I replied, more for my own sake than hers. I really didn’t want to get angry at Hazel—it was the last thing she needed. All the same, I couldn’t help but wish she’d been a bit more cautious before jumping into bed with Tejus…I knew how she felt about him, but a bit of caution and fact-checking beforehand would have been good.

  “Some first time, huh?” I half-smiled at her.

  “Don’t,” she retorted. “I’m definitely not ready to laugh about it yet.”

  “Fair enough. So—the syphoning…can’t you do it in a more…gentle way? Like Ash and Tejus can?” I asked hopefully.

  “I would if I could, but I don’t know how. Tejus says it will be something I learn. Being able to control the hunger will help, but I don’t even know where to begin.”

  I nodded. “Maybe getting you some food would be a good place to start?”

  “Yeah. I’m just trying to avoid bumping into anyone—I don’t want to end up syphoning off one of the kids. I thought I might be safe with you, that I wouldn’t allow myself to let it consume me, but…”

  “But it was a dismal failure,” I observed. “That’s okay—baby steps…baby steps and annoying ministers maybe? I don’t want to sound callous, but maybe there might be some of them you could practice on?”

  I thought it was quite a good idea, but Hazel shook her head.

  “You know I can’t do that,” she replied. “They’ll lock me up or something until I learn some self-control.”

  “Ash would never allow that,” I pointed out.

  “If Ash becomes king.”

  “You knew about that?” I replied, surprised.

  “I overheard Tejus telling the ministers.”

  Suddenly everything clicked into place. “Right—Tejus did something completely unselfish and you…”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. Then, seeing Hazel’s fed-up expression, I changed the subject. “Let’s get you some food and I’ll stop interrogating you.”

  “That would be nice.”

  Hazel’s reply was sarcastic, and it gave me hope. She might be a sentry, or have a sentry’s powers, but she was still first and foremost Hazel—Nevertide hadn’t beaten her yet.

  We made our way down to the servants’ quarters, Hazel walking a few paces behind me to ensure that we didn’t physically bump into anyone. We passed a couple of servants and Hazel backed up against the wall, staring down at the floor. When we got to the kitchen she stopped me.

  “You go in first—make sure there’s no one around,” she hissed at me.

  I peered around the partially open door. Only Jenney was standing at the stove, and I remembered that the kids were in one of the abandoned rooms.

  “It’s just Jenney,” I replied. “Is that okay?”

  Hazel deliberated for a few moments.

  “I think so, as long as she keeps her distance. Other than Tejus, sentries don’t seem to make me as hungry.”

  That made a little sense to me. If I was to think about it in comparison to vamps, they could drink off one another, but it never appealed the same way human blood did. Not even close.

  We entered the kitchen, and Jenney waved at us distractedly from a boiling pot. “You hungry?” she asked us both. I looked at Hazel, who had gone back to clamping her arms around herself.

  Well…one of us is.

  “Food would be good—whatever you’ve got,” I replied.

  “Pitsa, actually.”

  What?

  “Um…do you mean pizza?” I asked, looking at the boiling pot—it looked more like lumpy sentry stew to me.

  “Right,” Jenney agreed, mouthing the word silently. “The kids were explaining to me how to make it. This is for the ministers.” She stirred the pot. “Give me a couple of minutes and the pizza will be right with you.”

  “Thanks!” I exclaimed. Hellswan was looking up.

  Hazel drew up a chair at a table, as far away from Jenney and me as she could get.

  While Jenney’s attention was on the stove, I mouthed at Hazel, “We should tell her.” Hazel looked pained, but after a couple of moments she nodded. She didn’t look pleased by the idea, but I guessed eventually everyone would have to know. It wasn’t like we were going to be able to keep it a secret.

  I looked at Hazel expectantly, waiting for her to say something.

  She sighed.

  “Jenney, have you ever heard of a non-sentry becoming a sentry?” she asked.

  Jenney chuckled, and continued stirring the pot.

  “No…why? Are you looking to get comfy in Nevertide?” she replied, and then laughed at her own joke. When Hazel and I were silent, she spun around.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, all traces of amusement gone.

  Between us we told her the whole story—skirting around Hazel and Tejus’s intimacy, but it was implied. I thought that shocked Jenney more than anything else, but I didn’t really know why.

  “That’s incredible,” she breathed when we’d finished. Hazel looked uncomfortable, and I imagined it wouldn’t be for the last time over the coming days…

  “But you can’t syphon safely right now?” she asked Hazel.

  “No. It’s horrible. I almost wiped out Tejus and then hurt Ruby,” Hazel replied, shamefaced.

  Jenney was silent for a few moments, looking thoughtful.

  “That makes sense. When sentries are first born the kids have little or no control over who they syphon off, so they do it by accident all the time. Obviously, they’re not as strong as an adult, so you hardly notice it. Just a mild headache. As they grow up, they learn. It really doesn’t take that long. And as you’re aware of it already, it will probably take even less time for you. I don’t think this is going to affect you long term…not hugely, anyway.”

  As soon as Jenney finished her sentence, the door to the kitchen burst open and one of the kids came running in—the youngest one we had, a Portuguese boy called Carlito.

  “Jenney, I hungry!” he cried in broken English. When he saw Hazel and me sitting at the table he smiled and waved, but his face fell when Hazel jerked back and closed her eyes.

  “It’s okay, Carlito. Hazel has a headache—head pain?” I checked the boy understood what I was saying. He looked confused, but nodded while heading back toward the door, clearly deciding that he no longer wanted to be in the kitchen.

  When he was gone, Jenney and I turned to Hazel.

  ‘That bad, huh?” I asked softly.

  She nodded, looking down at the table.

  Maybe we couldn’t wait that long for Hazel to learn to get a grip on this.

  “Okay, I think we need to try again,” I announced. Hazel and Jenney both looked at me like I’d gone mad.

  “I’m serious—it’s stupid to think you can go around and practice self-will if you’re going out of your mind with hunger. Why don’t you try to give it another go? I can start by pushing my energy out. That might help?”

  “Are you sure?” Hazel asked quietly. She must have been desperate.

  “I’m sure,” I promised.

  “Thank you.”

  We turned to face one another, while Jenney stood at the other end of the table, watching. I focused on throwing my energy outward, hoping that Hazel would be intuitively apt enough to grasp hold of it. I felt the flickering sensation around my skull, and for a few moments I
could feel Hazel latch onto my mind, slowly taking the energy that I was offering. Then, quickly, it became too much—the searing pain started again, and I gritted my teeth, trying not to call out.

  “Stop!” Jenney yelled. “Hazel, try me.”

  The connection broke, and hastily I wiped away the tears of pain that had formed at the corners of my eyes. While the pain slowly ebbed away, Jenney went through the same experience, though she seemed to last longer than I did before grimacing and then crying out.

  Jenney and I looked at each other, both pale and exhausted.

  “I’m so sorry,” Hazel whispered after a while. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  I shook my head, “Honestly, don’t worry about it—it’s fine.”

  “You are not fine!” Ash bellowed from the door of the kitchen, looking from me to Jenney. “What the hell has been going on?”

  Ash

  As soon as I entered the kitchen, I could sense something wasn’t quite right with Ruby—it felt like all her energy had been nearly sucked dry, and she was as pale as a ghost. I looked at Jenney in disbelief. Surely she wouldn’t have…

  “Stop looking at me like that!” Jenney exclaimed, glaring back at me.

  “Sorry,” I retorted. “But what’s going on, Ruby?”

  She was looking up at me guiltily, and didn’t say a word. I looked at Hazel for answers, but she had her head in her hands, avoiding looking at any of us. I heard Tejus striding in behind me.

  “Hazel?” he asked, his voice full of concern. Tejus’s complete one-eighty personality transformation around Hazel was taking some getting used to. It was so weird to hear him sounding caring and gentle toward someone. The only time I’d ever heard him adopt that tone in the past was with his bird.

  “It’s not going very well,” Hazel muttered from behind her hands.

  I’m missing something.

  “Ruby? Will you please tell me what’s going on?” I asked again.

  “Why don’t you ask Tejus?” she retorted, scowling at him. I looked at Tejus. The rest of us might as well not have existed—he was staring at Hazel like his world was falling apart, and even I could feel the tension radiating off his body.

  I’m going to lose my temper.

  “Will someone tell me what is going on?” I asked for the umpteenth time. Ruby sighed, nodding.

  “You should sit down.”

  Ruby proceeded to tell me the story, and I sat awkwardly, not wanting to look at either Tejus or Hazel as their private life became public knowledge. Tejus paced up and down the kitchen the entire time, and I imagined he was blacking out our discussion as much as he could. When Ruby was finished, my only thought, other than concern for Hazel, was where in Nevertide that left Ruby and me.

  I had never heard of anything like this happening. I still didn’t understand how it could, but this wasn’t the time or the place to ask questions. I would have to wait till I could speak to Tejus on his own. Maybe there was a way that it could be stopped, or reversed somehow.

  Please let there be a loophole.

  “We need to leave,” Tejus announced coldly.

  In that moment I pitied him. I might have envied Tejus all his life for his privileged upbringing, his confidence and self-assurance, and then his rise to king. But if he loved Hazel the way I loved Ruby, then he would never forgive himself for this.

  “Where are you going?” Ruby asked.

  “We’re removing Jenus from his banishment,” I said. “I need to beat him in another trial if I am to be named king.”

  “Are you kidding?” Ruby exploded. “That’s insane!”

  “After everything he’s done?” Hazel asked Tejus, her expression horrified.

  “There was nothing we could do,” Tejus replied. “The only way the Impartial Ministers will accept Ash is if he is victorious over Jenus. The fools don’t know what they’re doing.”

  Hazel and Ruby were both silent for a few moments, no doubt reliving the nightmares that Jenus had put them through. Suddenly Hazel grinned.

  “Well… at least I’ll have someone to feed off of,” she murmured. “I have no moral issues about syphoning as much as I want off him.”

  “Then let’s get going. Hazel, you need to come. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be left alone,” Tejus commanded, opening the door to the kitchen for us all to file out.

  “Great,” she muttered, “a road trip.”

  “If Hazel’s going, then I’m going too.”

  Ruby jumped off her chair and walked toward the door. Tejus rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything. To be honest, I would be glad of the company—I wasn’t exactly looking forward to a long ride with Tejus and Hazel being excruciatingly awkward with one another.

  We left, Tejus taking one last look around the kitchen with an intrigued expression.

  “You’ve never been down here before, have you?” I drawled.

  “No. Can’t say I have.”

  Right.

  Of course not.

  We had been traveling for miles. We passed through the forest, sticking to the open path, and then out into the meadows and grain crops where the borders of Hellswan stood.

  “I remember this place,” Ruby noted dryly, trotting alongside me on her bull-horse.

  “Thought you might, Shortie.”

  A few miles ahead was where I’d dropped Ruby and her friends off, only to have them bouncing back a few moments later as the borders sprang them back into Hellswan. She winked at me, and I was glad that not all the memories of that day were bad ones for her. In my opinion, the first day I’d laid eyes on Ruby was one of the best of my life.

  “Where are we going?” I called out to Tejus, who was riding upfront alongside Hazel.

  “The forests that line the border, a little over to the left.”

  He pointed to a gloomy island of forestry in the distance, sprawling out from the smaller lines of trees that marked the end of the kingdom. Even in the afternoon sun, the place was surrounded by swirls of mist, making even the trees look gray.

  “I wanted him further out, but we couldn’t do it with the borders closed. Fortunate for us, I suppose.” Tejus hit his heel against the flanks of the bull-horse and we all increased our pace, heading straight for the forest.

  “Doesn’t look very welcoming,” Ruby noted with a shiver.

  “Good,” I retorted. “I hope the miserable bastard has hated every moment of it.”

  We slowed down as we reached the entrance. When I peered through the trees, the forest almost looked black—as dark and depressing a place as I’d ever seen. Even the earth seemed to smell dank and moldy, like there was nothing alive contained within it.

  “We should dismount,” Tejus informed us. “Guide the bullhorses in—the branches hang too low.”

  We all did as he asked, and a few moments later we were crossing the dead bracken and entering the oppressive gloom of the forest. I couldn’t even hear the call of birds.

  “What made you think of this place?” I asked Tejus, keeping my voice barely above a whisper.

  “It has particular sentimental value to my brother,” he replied.

  “You put him somewhere he would like?” I asked, astonished.

  Tejus grimaced.

  “I didn’t say he liked it.”

  Oh.

  I marveled at more evidence of the Hellswan brotherly love. If I couldn’t be responsible for the downfall of Queen Trina, I really hoped that it would be Tejus in charge of her punishment.

  We carried on a bit further, Tejus leading with me bringing up the rear, until I could see the outline of a cave up ahead, a gaping black mouth and the curvature of the rock wild and overgrown with moss.

  “Who goes there?” cried a voice barely recognizable as belonging to Jenus. He had always sounded reedy in comparison with his brothers, but now his tone was suffused with a cold, hollow fear.

  “Your salvation, brother!” Tejus called back merrily. “At the hands of those you harmed the most.”

&nb
sp; We stopped in front of the cave, but I couldn’t hear anything other than the slow drip of water landing on stone, echoing from its depths. A second later, I heard the distinct sound of chains running across the earth, each link clanking as they unraveled. The sound was followed by heavy footsteps, moving slowly across stone, and the wheezing of an old man’s breath.

  Jenus stepped into the pool of light, standing just a little way back from the entrance to the cave. At first glance, I didn’t recognize him. When I peered closer, I had the unmistakable feeling that whatever Jenus was on the inside was finally being shown on the outside. Gone was the slicked-back hair and icily aloof demeanor of Jenus the sentry prince. This creature was more beast than man. He was unshaven, with a filthy-looking beard that made the emaciation of his face all the more pronounced—the dark circles under his eyes made him look almost skeletal, and the shock of black hair that surrounded his skull made him look wild, deadly. His hands and feet were cuffed with iron bars, tied to a chain that led back into the cave.

  “Have you come to mock?” Jenus spat. He eyed his brother as if none of the rest of us existed. “Handsome, honorable Tejus! The great, glorious Tejus! The monster with the concealed face! The swine, the bastard—the miserable child of a father who despised you and a mother who would sooner die than look at you! Have you, brother, come to offer me salvation?” The words ran like acid from his mouth—spittle flying, his face contorted with malevolence.

  “Wow. Are we sure this is the best idea?” Ruby hissed at me. “He looks like a certifiable nutjob.”

  “Couldn’t agree more.” I grimaced.

  “Hold your tongue, Jenus,” Tejus replied in a bored voice. “The Impartial Ministers want you released. I’m looking forward to the moment they lay eyes on you.” He smirked at his brother. “You look very kingly, I must say.”

  “Ah ha!” Jenus cried, practically foaming at the mouth. “Failed the Imperial trials already, fool brother? I have heard the trees whispering of your misdeeds…ice fires, rains of blood…it seems death follows you, Tejus. Oh, corrupted one!” He laughed madly for a few seconds, and then began to pace up and down, the chains sliding along in his wake.