ADVICE AND MYSTERY
The east wing of the castle was dark. It always was. Alina, walking in it, shivered. Of all the places on Earth, the darkness that hung in this part of the castle was closest to her dream. It was damp and cool and smelled dusty. Like an opened tomb. Alina shuddered.
Why Aili chose to live here, I cannot fathom.
Aunt Aili was the middle sister of the daughters of Lochlann, the only surviving offspring of Brien's older brother Fergal. He had died with no sons, leaving his little brother to become lord. And left us to live with the consequences of that, Alina thought wryly. The family tale distracted her from the eerie, cold surroundings and so she chose to focus on it instead, drowning out the darkness.
Alina and her sister were the daughters of the eldest Lochlann lady. Lady Joanna. She had died when Alina was a year old. That left Aili, and the youngest daughter of Fergal, Lady Frances. When Frances died six years later, Aili had been deeply affected. She had retired from public life, moving to the east wing where she had lived ever since. That was well over a decade ago.
Aili has never returned to the castle, Alina mused. I think I understand why.
Aili was known for uncanny powers. It was why she had become Alina's mentor, following the incident of Alina's capture. Aili had helped her heal and, during that time, had become more aware of Alina's gifts.
She chose to stay here to avoid distraction. And to be safe.
There were many in the castle who believed Aili in league with demonic powers. It was safer for her to be away from others. Alina, as a possessor of similar powers, understood the need for quiet and time to reflect.
“Nevertheless,” she said aloud, “I do wish the place was less daunting. And warm.” She had reached the top of the cobwebbed staircase. She faced a dark, arched door. She tapped on it.
“Aili?”
“Come in.”
The voice was loud, but arid. It sounded as if the wind spoke, cold and eerie. Alina bit her lip. She entered.
“Well, then. It's my favorite niece! And how is the bonnie lady?”
Alina smiled. She stepped forward to greet the small, white-haired lady with shell-blue eyes. She came under Alina's shoulders and embraced her, then looked up at her face.
“You're worried, lass.” It was a statement, not a question. Alina nodded. “Tell me.”
Alina followed her aunt, who walked to the table in the corner of the room. A tall, canopied chair faced the door, and on its right, was a section half screened with a tapestry which housed a dark oaken table and chairs, carved and upright, a roaring fire, and an elegantly carved screen. The place was beautiful, furnished more comfortably and richly than the castle beyond.
Alina sat down in the chair indicated by her small aunt. She waited while Aili sat down then clapped her hands.
“Come on, you lot!” Aili said briskly. A serving woman appeared, white-haired and round-faced, with red cheeks and merriment in her face.
“Milady?”
“There you are!” Aili said wearily. “Well, what are you about? We've guests! What manner of horrid barbarians are we, to leave our guests unfed? Fetch ale and jam tarts. Blackberry ones, if you can find them.”
Alina smiled. Blackberry was her favorite. Trust Aili to recall that small fact among the others.
“Yes, mistress.”
“And be quick about it. We've much to say and little time for the doing of it.”
Alina bit back a grin. She did not ask how her aunt knew the matter was urgent. She simply knew she did. That was enough.
“Now, dear,” Aili said, turning to face her. “You need to tell me.”
Alina cleared her throat. “I had a dream, Aunt. In it, darkness engulfed us. All of us.”
“Aye?” she put her head on one side, reminding Alina uncannily of a jackdaw.
“Yes,” Alina agreed. “I was there, and Amabel. And you, and Duncan and Broderick. And...and the babe,” she remembered.
“Aye. And her,” Aili agreed. Alina had not mentioned the child was a girl child. She continued her narration.
“We were all engulfed in the darkness because Duncan sought permission to wed,” she said, swallowing. She hated the thought it was her fault!
“The darkness was absolute?” Aili asked. At that moment, the maid appeared with the tray. She set the things down. Aili poured ale. Alina raised her glass and wet her lips with it. It was rich and foaming, refreshing and clear. She drank.
“No,” she agreed. “It was...hazy. I could see. I simply could not change it.”
“You're outside the pattern, lass,” Aili nodded firmly. She pointed at her. “You can change things. That's why you could see.”
Alina paused. She reached for a tart, but did not bite it. “I am?”
“You can change it. You've started, yes? You know what must be done.” Her voice was unwavering.
Alina breathed out a shaky breath. “Yes, Aunt. Or...perhaps, I wanted to ask.”
“You know you're right. Don't need me to affirm it,” Aili snorted. “Trust yourself, lass. You must.”
Alina swallowed. “I will try, Aunt.”
“Try hard,” Aili chuckled humorlessly. “You'll need all the trust in yourself you can find, before the end.”
Alina bit her lip. “I will, Aunt.”
“Good,” Aili chuckled. She reached for a tart, bit it, and chewed with relish.
“Aunt?”
“Mm?” Aili reached for a napkin, dabbing at crumbs.
“I need to know. There was...a sword?”
“There've been lots of swords, lass. And lots of quests to find them. What sword is it you seek?”
Alina shivered. Sometimes her aunt surprised her. She did not even ask how her aunt knew something of the quest. “The one that was stolen,” she said, unwavering.
“Well,” Aili said with relish, leaning back in her chair with a smile. “Ye tell me. Ye ken where it is. Dinnae fool me. Ye ken it, lass.”
Alina smiled. Her aunt spoke usually in as courtly a manner as she herself did. When she broadened her accent to match that of the street, it meant she was letting out her teasing, playful side.
“Aye, Aunt,” she agreed, going along with her playfulness. “I think I do.”
“An' he does an' all,” Aili grumbled. “Him. The one as thinks he's mighty.”
Alina laughed. She would have described Uncle Brien like that also. “Indeed. I think he does. Which is why he sent Duncan to recapture it.”
“He did, aye?” Aili chuckled. “And who's he think he is, eh? King o' the Mound?”
Alina laughed. The mounds were faerie places, and if her uncle thought he was king of the Otherworld beings, that was the height of hubris. She nodded. “Something like that,” she added dryly.
Aili chuckled. “Indeed. And so what does our self-proclaimed king think he's doing now? Sending knights on gallant pilgrimage?”
“A knight,” Alina corrected. Her voice cracked. Duncan was the epitome of what knights should be: honorable, upright, noble-hearted. “A beloved one.”
Aili reached a hand to cover hers. Said nothing. Alina swallowed, allowing her aunt to comfort her.
“I would kill him,” Alina whispered. She meant Uncle Brien. “How dare he bring his hubris here, to endanger us?”
Aili chuckled. “I know you would kill him, fox-heart,” she sighed. It was the nickname she used for Alina, saying often that she had the heart of a vixen, fierce and questing. “But you cannot. It achieves naught. Besides, that one believes himself some ancient noble,” she chuckled. “Has since he was young.”
“Really?” Alina was interested.
“Aye,” Aili continued, keeping up the lighthearted accent. “He does. He fancies himself dispensing tasks like some ancient king. Always had a romantic streak, he did. I recall him as Uncle Brien, the young brother of my own father, not certain of anything.” She laughed. “Allus wanted to be lord, then too. And he loved the lasses, he did.”
Alina stared. “Indeed?” she covered her mouth with her hand, scarce believing that. Her uncle Brien as a lady killer was impossible to imagine.
“'S true,” Aili insisted. She was chuckling also. “Dinnae make me laugh, lass. He did so. Allus havin' his romantic notions. When he finally settled on Colla, I was surprised.”
“Oh?” Colla was her great-aunt, Uncle Brien's wife. She had died young, leaving her great-uncle Brien to raise Colla, his daughter, alone. That daughter, Alina's Aunt Colla had wed the duke of Athol and lived far afield. She could count on one hand the number of times she had seen her or conversed with her.
“Aye,” Aili continued her narration. “And I wonder sometimes that he did not wed again. He allus was romantic,” she shook her head sadly.
“Uncle Brien wishes himself to be one of the ancient kings, dispensing quests to knights?” Alina said, shaking her own head. “That explains it.” She chuckled.
“It explains plenty,” Aili said.
Alina laughed. She was going to ask her more about how else it explained things, but she was abruptly halted.
“My lady!” the maid appeared, eyes terrified, hands clasped to her chest. “We must leave! We're under attack.”