On the Edge (The Edge #1)
Page 26ROSE opened her eyes. Daylight.
A ceiling stretched above her with an all-too-familiar yellow stain. It had appeared two years ago, right after Jack in his lynx shape chased a feral tomcat up into the attic. She had long suspected it was cat pee.
"Here you are," Grandma's voice said softly.
Rose looked at her, wide-eyed. A terrible fear clamped her. "Declan?"
"Alive. Barely, but he's eaten some chicken soup this morning, so I do believe he'll make it."
"The boys?"
"Fine. They're fine. Thad died. Tom Buckwell's leg had to be cut off. Jennifer and Ru didn't make it, but other than that, we've survived the storm."
Rose breathed.
Tears swelled in Grandma's blue eyes. "Never again, you hear me? Never again. Next time something like this happens, you go into the Broken and let somebody else fight it out!"
"Okay." Rose reached and touched her hand. "It's okay."
"You were almost dead, baby. Your blueblood dragged you back from the dead, kicking and screaming."
"What happened to William?"
"He's gone. Didn't say a word. Just vanished after everything was over."
Declan loomed in the doorway. He saw her and swallowed. Quietly Grandma rose and stepped aside. Rose held out her arms. He staggered in, slowly, and lowered himself on the floor near her. She took his hand in hers and fell asleep.
ROSE awoke in her bed. The light coming through the window meant late morning. She had woken up several times during the night, terrified that she had only dreamed being alive and having Declan near. He'd slept by her bed on the floor, on a stack of blankets, and every time she panicked, he was there, until finally she crawled off the bed and lay on the floor next to him, drifting off in his arms. The next time she had shrugged off sleep, she found Jack curled up on their feet and George out cold in her bed.
Declan and the boys were gone now, and she was back in her bed. She didn't worry. She knew he wouldn't leave without her.
It didn't seem real. She lay for a long time feeling the texture of the sheets under her fingers and trying to convince herself that this was real, that it wasn't some hallucination flashing before her mind as she lay dying on the church floor. She failed and finally pushed herself upright. If it was a hallucination, she might as well enjoy it while it lasted.
The muscles in her legs felt soft, like wet cotton, but she managed to make it to the bathroom and then to the kitchen before her legs gave out.
"Rose!" Grandma dropped the steaming kettle back on the stove and caught her, sliding her into the chair.
"Where are they?"
"Outside. He went walking. He can't run yet, but he wouldn't stay in bed. I sent the hooligans with him in case he topples over. Here." Grandma put a bowl of Cocoa Puffs in front of her.
Rose put a spoonful into her mouth. "Oh, my God. Thish ish the besht thing I ever tashted."
"That's because you haven't eaten in four days."
The cereal crunched in her mouth. She emptied the bowl and instantly felt sick.
"More?" Grandma's eyes twinkled.
"I'd better not. It's trying to come back up."
"Drink some tea, it will help."
She sipped the hot, fragrant brew. "What happened to the device?"
"Jeremiah and the rest dragged it out into the Broken, chainsawing whatever came out of it. The damn thing stopped right away past the boundary. They poured concrete on it, drove it to the coast, and dumped it off into the ocean. I saw it with my own eyes. Your blueblood wouldn't shut up until I went with them. Would you stop staring out the window? He will be back soon enough."
Rose looked into her tea.
"Where does this leave the two of you?" Grandma asked softly.
"I'm not sure," Rose said.
"He's been making plans to leave for the Weird as soon as he can. He's determined to take you with him."
"Do you think I should go?"
A troubled expression flickered over Grandma's face. "This is one of those times age's wisdom meets youth's passion. Do you know what usually happens?"
Rose sighed. "I'm about to find out?"
"Wisdom dashes passion's hopes and you stop speaking to your grandmother."
Grandma ElEonore clenched her hands. "You know I love you, Rose. I have to tell you this, even if you shall hate me for it. I was not lucky in love. I loved madly. Passionately. Mine was the kind of love that burned so brightly, it made me blind. When the fire finally dimmed enough for me to see clearly, I found out that what I wanted most of all was a man I could depend on. A man who would be by my side, come hell or high water. And that was the only thing Cletus denied me. He loved me. He yearned for me. He set our bed on fire. But when I needed him, I'd turn around and he'd be gone, chasing off after some swamp light. So when I say this, you must take into account that I speak from a lifetime of bitter disappointment."
Rose blinked.
"Your Declan, he's a dream. Courageous, assertive, strong, kind. Let's not forget rich and of noble blood."
"Also arrogant, condescending, high-handed, and snooty." Rose smiled.
"Shush. You wanted my opinion, now you're getting it. Declan is everything a woman could want. And he looks . . ." Grandma sighed in resignation. "You know the way he looks. I'm over a century old, and my heart hammers faster when he walks by. You must ask yourself, what would a man like this want with a woman like you?"
"I think he wants to marry me. I made it plain that being his girl toy was out of the question."
"You asked for my honesty." ElEonore twisted her hands again. "You're my granddaughter, Rose. There is no girl brighter or prettier. You deserve all the best in the world, and if it was in my power, I'd give it to you. But you and Declan aren't on the same footing. I think you love him. And I think he loves you very much. Right now. But does he love you deeply enough to spend a lifetime with you? So much has happened. Both of you got caught up in this life-and-death excitement. But eventually he has to go home, where he's a noble and you are what? Even if he thinks he'll marry you right now, what will happen when he returns to his life and his friends and family see you? They're nobles, Rose. They're born into the life of privilege, and they don't know what it's like to scrape and scrounge for change so you can buy bread for the kids. He might understand it now, but what about his parents? What if he's determined enough to marry you against all odds, and they shun him for it? It could make him a bitter, hard man. He might always blame you for it. He won't ever let you forget that he threw away everything for you."
Rose looked into her cup.
"If you go with him, you must go knowing that you might end up a rich man's mistress or that you could cost him everything," Grandma said. "I don't think that's what you want. I think you love him too much. I'm afraid he'll break your heart. There, I said it. Think about it, Rose. Think long and hard before you let him shatter you to pieces."
ROSE sat on the porch. She supposed she should have stood, but she felt queasy. Declan waited on the grass before her. She was aware of Grandmother behind her and the kids perched on the rail to the left.
It had taken her three days to finally recover to the point that she could travel. Three days of Declan by her side showing her how it could be. This was going to be a very difficult conversation.
"So the third challenge," she said.
Declan smiled, and her heart jumped. "You could give me something easy. Ask me to pick you some flowers."
"I can't do that."
The smile slid off his face. "Very well."
She was hot and cold at the same time. Anxiety prickled her skin, as if she were a kid who had just broken some prized trinket and expected her parents to yell at her.
"Winning the challenges gives you the right to own me. I would belong to you completely. I'd be your possession."
"I simply phrased the oath in a way most advantageous to me at the time," he said. "I don't want to own you, Rose. I want you to want me. And I think you do."
She couldn't let him derail her. "I understand why you've done it that way. But the fact remains that I have to trust you completely to let you win."
He raised his arms. His tone grew cold. "Do you want me to marry you right now, is that it? If that's the only way I'll have you, I'll do it."
She winced. "That's exactly what I don't want."
"What do you want?"
She held herself straight. "I want you to sign three writs of citizenship for myself and the kids. I'll go with you into the Weird. You'll introduce me to your family and friends. If in one month's time you still want to go through with the wedding, I'll marry you."
He stared at her. "What would be the purpose of that?"
"You're giving me the power to take the writs and vanish once we reach the Weird."
"Are you afraid I'll mistreat you?"
"It's about trust, Declan. I will trust you to take me to the Weird, to not kill the children, to not sell me to the highest bidder, to not turn me into your mistress only to be abandoned when some noblewoman catches your eye. And you will trust me to come with you and marry you of my own free will, not because of some dumb challenge."
His face snapped into glacial calm. "Is that what you think of me? You think me the kind of man who would murder children and take advantage of you?"
"No," she said. "I don't. I want to be with you, Declan. I love you very much. But your family might hate me, and you might change your mind. If you do it my way, you'll have an out. You'll lose nothing."
"So you want me to trust you, but you don't trust me," he said.
"This is the challenge," she said. "Three writs, thirty days. I won't back away from it."
His expression didn't change. "George, there is a wooden box in my room. Fetch it. You'll have your writs," he said. "Start packing."
IT took them the whole day to pack what little belongings they had. They had to travel light, no more than they could carry. Rose packed a couple of changes of clothes for everyone. The kids took their toys and the three volumes of InuYasha. The Broken money would be useless in the Weird, and Rose handed it all over to her grandmother. She would go into the Weird without a single cent to her name.
Declan had transformed back into the Weird blueblood. The gray leather armor, the sword, the pack, and the wolf mantle were back. So was the haughty expression. He hadn't said more than two words to her.
They said their tear-soaked good-byes to Grandma.
"Come with me," Rose asked. "Please."
ElEonore just hugged her. "I couldn't have left Cletus even if I wanted to. I had no place to go and no means to cross the ocean. But you will have a choice. If it doesn't work out, you can always come back here. Always, Rose. No matter what, no questions asked. Let me do this thing for you. I'll sleep better at night."
"We'll come back to visit next summer," Rose promised.
As they headed down the path into the Wood, Rose looked back and saw Grandma on the porch, a lost expression on her face.
George sniffled.
"Next summer we'll talk her into coming back with us," she told him.
They walked for the better part of the day. The Wood grew darker and stranger with each step, the trees becoming thicker, branches more twisted. Odd creatures skittered among the canopy and bizarre flowers bloomed among the roots, like beacons of white and orange.
Finally Declan stopped. "The boundary," he said.
The moment of truth. Either they had enough magic to cross or they didn't. Rose held the boys by the hand and took a step. Pressure clutched her. She gasped at the sudden weight and took another step, then another and another, and then they were through.
An incredible lightness filled her. The magic pulsed within her, vibrant, strong, and she laughed softly at the simple happiness of it.
Declan reached into his leather and produced a small whistle. A shrill sound sliced through the Wood. Magic pulsed from the whistle. A rapid thudding of a horse answered, and a large animal pushed through the underbrush. Thick, stocky across the shoulders, with a deep chest and powerful legs, it looked like a cross between a Budweiser stallion and a wild ram. It dipped its head, crowned with two steel-capped horns, and nuzzled at Declan.
"His name is Grunt," Declan said.
The mount grunted in reply. They packed their belongings into saddlebags, loaded Jack and George onto Grunt's back, and set off.
Two days later, they finally made it out of the woods and onto the road. Declan pushed them, and by nightfall, they came upon a settlement.
It was a small town, poised about a paved road running up a hill. Two- and three-story houses climbed up the slope, cushioned in greenery. Some were whitewashed, some built of pink and yellow stone, most roofed with reddish orange shingles. Here and there streetlamps sparked with magic. Some buildings showed odd cupolas; others had peculiar hieroglyphs scrawled on their walls in flowing script.
A small carriage slid by them, heading up the hill. It had no horse.
Declan led them up the road to a wide blocky building, marked by a tall post with a glowing green lantern atop it.
A dark-haired boy ran out to take Grunt's reins and bowed deeply. "My lord!"
"Quiet," Declan told him, pointing at the two boys passed out on Grunt's back. He tossed a coin to the boy. It looked a lot smaller than the doubloons with which he'd paid her. "Family suite, top floor. And a dinner for four."
They had two adjoining rooms connected with a door and situated on the end of the second-floor hallway. The rooms were clean and beautiful. For some reason she had expected a smoky medieval tavern, but instead the rooms were almost modern, except for the absence of electric outlets, TVs, or anything else that was meant to plug in. The walls were a gentle peach, the floors golden hardwood. Each bedroom came equipped with a canopied bed and soft dark red chairs. Clusters of elegant glass bellflowers mounted on the walls spilled soothing light.
The innkeeper deposited Jack onto the bed in the right room and withdrew. Declan placed George next to Jack.
Rose went into the bathroom and saw a toilet, a double sink, and a shower with a huge bathtub sunken deep into the floor. A robe hung on the hook, so ordinary she nearly laughed. Suddenly she realized she stank. She stripped and climbed in, wanting nothing more than to wash off three days in the forest. It took her a little while to figure out the contents of the twisted green and blue glass bottles, but in the end, she emerged, clean, smelling like tangerines, and wrapped in a fluffy cream-colored towel.
They didn't appear to have electricity, but the water pressure was excellent and the water was hot. She'd have to ask Declan about it.
She tiptoed past the sleeping children into the second room and gasped when Declan pounced on her, sweeping her off her feet. His lips touched hers, and she melted. She missed him so much, she almost cried.
His voice was a husky growl knitted with need. "I missed you."
She put her fingers on his lips. "Quiet, the kids . . ."
He glanced at the door and roared at the top of his lungs, "Kids?"
She gasped, expecting Jack or George to fly through the door. Declan reached over, swung the door open, and showed her the boys asleep in their room.
"Soundproof sigil," he said, shutting the door. "We can hear them, but they can't hear us. You can scream all you want."
"So I'm completely at your mercy?" Rose laughed.
He carried her to the bed. "You will be . . ."
"Pretty much," he said. "Explain the thirty days to me."
"It's your chance to change your mind," she told him. "I'm scared you'll fall out of love with me. I'm scared your family will hate me, and then you'll marry me anyway to rescue me, but you'll become a pariah and blame me for the rest of your life for being disowned."
His chest shook, and she realized he was trying to hold in laughter. She stared at him, indignant. "I want to give you a choice, you idiot. I don't want to make you feel like you have to do it."
He broke into laughter. She groaned and curled into a ball.
"I've made my choice," he said. "In fact, I've done everything in my power to get you right here into my bed, and I had to work very hard for it. I gave you no reason to believe that I'll abandon you. Or murder the children and leave them on the side of the road. Really, that was priceless. I was a bit put out."
She glared at him. "A bit put out" apparently meant three days of the silent treatment.
He pulled her close. "I'm not doing this to rescue you. I'm doing this for entirely selfish reasons - I love you, and I don't want to be without you."
"I love you, too," she told him.
"Let's get married now," he offered. "We'll go down to the magistrate in the morning . . ."
"Thirty days," she said firmly. "After your parents meet me."
"You're an impossible woman," he said mournfully.
"You wouldn't love me if I wasn't," she said.
"True."
She kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her, and she smiled. Tomorrow would bring new troubles, but for now she was perfectly and completely happy.
THE castle was enormous. It spread atop a hill like a crouching dragon: at the front, heavily fortified entrance, like a mouth, followed by the stretch of the wall - the beast's neck. Next a round tall tower stabbed the sky - the dragon's leg, followed by a cluster of fortified buildings surrounded by a high wall with a spiked parapet curling on the edge of a cliff, like a massive ridged tail around hindquarters. The brown stone, darkened with age, intensified the illusion. Rose gaped at it.
"It only looks severe," Declan informed her. "Inside, it's very open. The Duchess of the Southern Provinces has a fondness for natural light and gauzy curtains. It will be quick, I promise. We go in, I report to the Duke, and then we depart for Camarine Keep. We'll be home by tomorrow night."
Rose shrugged, trying to get rid of the tension sitting between her shoulder blades. Her horse, a smaller version of Declan's Grunt, immediately reacted by dancing in place. He had bought it for her in that first town. The kids each got a mount of their own. George rode like a natural, with almost Declan-like elegance, while Jack mostly clung to the horse, clawing at it at every bump, until both he and his horse dashed about in blind panic.
The trip across Adrianglia had taken almost a week. Both she and the kids had ended up with raw thighs after the first day of riding, and after that, they'd taken it slow and easy. It was an odd place, clean and beautiful in some areas, stark in others. Ruins dotted the countryside here and there, scars of old wars. She had tried to prepare herself for the possibility that she might dislike the Weird, but it grew on her, with its patches of forest and horseless carriages, and children playing with magic on the sides of the roads.
She had been completely blindsided by Declan's status. She had known he was a Marshal, but she'd never quite realized what it entailed. People bowed. When he passed through a town, a report was brought, usually by a commander of the local militia. Every stop was a working stop. The first time someone called her "my lady," it zoomed right over her head. She had tried her best not to embarrass him. Unfortunately, she knew this would last only until she came into contact with other nobles.
Now she had to face the Duke of the Southern Provinces. He was the man to whom Declan answered. The man she desperately needed to impress, even more so than Declan's parents. She still wore her jeans and a T-shirt. Her hair was still a short mess. She was still unrefined. She was Rose. And Declan was determined to drag her into the castle.
They rode up the road. This was so not going to end well.
They passed under the portcullis. Declan merely nodded at the guards, dressed in gray and blue. Everybody bowed. He jumped off Grunt and helped her down off her mount. The kids dismounted, and Declan started toward the doors.
"I was thinking, we might just stay here," Rose said. "We can wait for you."
" 'Dear Declan, where is your bride?' 'Oh, I left her outside, Your Grace.' " Declan shook his head. "I don't think so."
He took her by the hand, gently, but she knew with absolute certainty that she wouldn't be able to get away, and guided her inside into the lobby. A wide room stretched before her, terminating in a staircase leading up. On both sides of the staircase she saw arched entrances opening into a vast hall. The floor was old worn stone. Tapestries decorated the walls. Small trees and bright flowers grew in huge pots along the walls. Bathed in the light of numerous windows, the hall looked surprisingly cheery.
A man appeared. His hair was silver, his clothes black leather, his face grim. He looked like he could kill people with his stare alone. "He's waiting for you, my lord," he said.
Declan nodded and glanced at her. "Wait for me, please," he said, "I'll be right back."
He ran up the stairway. The man followed him. They were alone.
George looked at his shoes. Jack reached over, plucked a small leaf from the nearest tree, and nervously chewed on it.
"Jack, don't do that," she murmured.
A woman emerged from one of the entrances on the right. Jack swallowed the leaf.
She was older, tall, dark-haired, very beautiful, and dressed in a ragged shirt smeared with cream-colored paint. They looked at each other.
"Who are you?" the woman asked. A frosty sheen crossed her eyes and melted into their dark depths.
Oh God. A blueblood.
"I'm here with Declan," Rose said. "These are my brothers. We're just here for a minute."
The woman pursed her lips. "Are you from the Broken?"
"Actually, I'm from the Edge," Rose said carefully.
"Can you paint walls?"
Rose blinked. "Yes."
"Would you mind helping me? I've been painting non-stop, and my back really hurts."
There was only one answer to that. "Not at all."
The woman smiled. She had a very warm smile, and Rose relaxed a little. "Come with me!"
They followed her into a side hallway, up a window stairway to the second floor and into a room layered with cloth. Half of one wall was cream. The rest was steel gray.
"I think it looks better with cream, don't you?" the woman said.
"It looks brighter."
The woman handed her a roller. In a few minutes all three of them were painting.
"When I become worried, I paint the walls," the woman said. "I've done four rooms so far. Well, six, actually, since I changed my mind several times on the color. Your brothers are adorable."
"Thank you. Why were you worried?" Rose asked.
"Because of Declan, of course. The whole mess with Casshorn nearly brought me to an early grave. I realize we won, but would you mind filling in the details?"
Rose bit her lip. "I'm not sure I should tell you."
The woman smiled. "I know most of the story: Casshorn had stolen a device from the Duke of the Southern Provinces that feeds on magic and makes hounds. He took it across the country into the Edge. Declan left to retrieve it and save William, who managed to entangle himself in this mess. So how did it end?"
"Jack!" Rose snapped.
The woman's eyes widened. "Really?"
Jack nodded. "Grandma said Rose's mouth and her eyes were bleeding."
George dug his elbow into Jack's side. "Shut up."
"I have to know the whole story now," the woman said
"I'd rather not," Rose said.
"Please, I insist."
Twenty minutes and two walls later, she had the whole story, and Rose wasn't quite sure how she'd gotten it.
"You really intend to make him wait a month to marry you?" The woman laughed softly.
"I want him to be sure."
"Do you know how long the Duchess has been trying to marry him off? If she discovers he found a bride, you won't escape."
"I'm hoping to avoid the Duchess. I don't know anything about manners, haircuts, or proper clothes, and I hope to learn a bit before we meet." Rose hesitated. "Why would the Duchess care whether or not Declan is married? I mean, he's a courtesy earl. I know the Duke seems to rely on him and he's the Marshal, but I was hoping the Duchess wouldn't take an interest."
The woman stopped her roller. "Oh, dear."
"I'm sorry?"
"Declan has this annoying habit. He doesn't quite lie. Instead he allows people to arrive at the wrong conclusions and doesn't bother to correct them."
"You know him very well." Rose smiled.
"Dear, in Adrianglia, nobles - they are called peers here - peers carry several titles. A duke might also be an earl or a baron. An heir can assume the rank of his sire only when his sire retires or dies. Until then, if the heir has completed his service and passed his examinations, he assumes the next best title in his bloodline. Declan is a courtesy peer, because although he completed his service, his sire is still alive. He is the son of the Duke and Duchess of the Southern Provinces."
"Oh God." Rose dropped the roller.
"Look on the bright side: you don't have to worry about clothes, haircuts, or manners. If you marry Earl Camarine, you could prance into society in a potato sack and it would become the latest fashion."
"So Casshorn was his uncle?" Rose asked. Maybe she misunderstood . . .
"Indeed. And he always hated Declan and Maud, his sister. You see, the mother of the current Duchess was born in the Broken. That's why Declan can travel back and forth between the worlds. He is what you might call a mix. Casshorn never could stand the Duchess. Nobody quite knows why, and so he - "
Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Declan's voice called, "Mother?" He ducked into the doorway. "Mother, have you seen - "
He saw Rose and clamped his mouth shut.
"I've seen, and I approve!" the woman said brightly.
"Mother?" Rose stared at her.
The woman frowned. "I probably should have mentioned: that annoying habit of letting people come to the wrong conclusions and not correcting them? He got it from me."
Declan's face turned icy. "You just couldn't leave well enough alone."
"No, I couldn't. But I absolutely love her," the Duchess answered. "Don't worry about the one-month requirement - it will take me that long to organize the wedding."
Rose simply stared. An older version of Declan appeared in the doorway. "We've misplaced the bride . . . Oh, here you are." He shouldered his way into the room.
An even older man followed. Gaunt and dressed in dark purple, he saw Rose and said, "Why, she is lovely." He glanced at the boys. "Which of you is the necromancer?"
A young female voice yelled at the door, "Let me into the room! I'm his sister, damn it!"
Rose backed away, pressing against the freshly painted wall. They were too big, too loud, too full of magic. Jack hissed.
Declan stepped forward, pushed the double doors open, took her hand, and pulled her through onto a wide balcony.
"Did you see that?" the Duchess yelled. "He rescued her from us. This wedding is on!"
"Sorry. They're just excited," Declan told her, leading her to the end of the balcony.
"You lied to me again."
"No, I just didn't tell you the whole truth."
She shook her head. "A duke?"
"Not for another twenty years or so."
"God, your mother probably thinks I'm an idiot."
"She likes you. She likes the kids, too. Rose, I'm still me. Does it really matter if I'm a duke or not? If I didn't have a title, you would've married me already. Forget the castle. Forget my family."
One of the older men leaned out of the doors. "I just want to see the triple arch," he called. "Then I'll leave you two alone!"
"I love you. Marry me," Declan said.
His eyes were green like grass blades.
She put her arms around his neck and kissed him as the triple arch of her flash spun about them. In the doorway, the older man swore.
Declan grinned at her. She grinned back.
"Say yes," he said.
"Yes," she said. "But not before the month is over."