Seven Brothers Blessed [ Lore of Penrua: Book IV ]

[ 25 ]

Having wished Aerte a good night, waiting by her door until he heard it lock securely behind him, Uachi returned to his room and washed in the cold water waiting for him. He turned in for the evening, only to lie awake for hours. When he could see the first light of morning, pale on the horizon, and began to hear birds singing, Uachi rose from his bed and dressed.

He did not think Aerte would be awake at this hour—he hoped she would not be—and he did not know the castle well enough to wander the halls and the grounds like he might have back in Karelin. Besides, it would not do to be seen lurking around the grounds by Han Taín, whom he considered an adversary.

Instead, Uachi climbed the narrow, winding stairway to the tower aviary. When he stepped into the room, he was wrapped in the warm scent of the birds. It was quiet. Somewhere, a pheasant rustled its feathers and then fell silent again.

"Don't be startled," came a soft voice.

Of course Uachi was startled, but not alarmed. He searched the darkness.

"It's Padréc. I'm just here." Something moved, and Uachi saw him in the gloom, seated on the floor with his back against the wall, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. "You seem like a fellow who might hurt somebody who surprises you in the dark."

"I've been known to," Uachi said, matching Padréc's whisper.

"I have tea, if you want some."

Uachi crossed the room and settled down next to Padréc, who was seated on a bed roll on the floor. He had no candle, but he had a teapot and a cup. He poured the brew and passed his cup to Uachi.

"I've had my fill."

"Thank you." Uachi raised the cup; steam warmed his lips. The scent was earthy and just slightly floral. "You could not sleep?"

"Perhaps two hours, broken. You?"

"Not a wink."

"I'm sorry. After all the work last night, you deserved your rest."

Uachi nodded, his gaze drifting toward the wall pocketed with alcoves. All of the grates were closed, hundreds of birds tucked away inside in groups of two and three. An understanding dawned as he considered the creatures. "You didn't want them to be alone."

Padréc didn't answer him, but that was answer enough. Uachi might never have spared much time worrying for the well-being of the lords and ladies who'd peopled Diarmán's hall the night before they had been changed into birds. Now, it comforted him to know that Padréc had stayed here with them, watching through the darkness. "It's kind of you."

"I've a knack for calming animals. Especially birds." Padréc rested his back against the stone wall. "I hope it works on them."

"Could you change them back?"

He shook his head. "I can only change myself. Diarmán's the one who can change the shape of other things. Other people."

"Well. We must hope he will do it, then."

There was another silence. It was strange and heavy, and with it came a creeping sense of dread. Padréc was not looking at Uachi. He was gazing toward the open window, the only source of light in the aviary.

"What is it?" Uachi asked.

"There are dark times to come." Padréc's voice was softer than a whisper now. "You should go, Uachi. I'm sorry to say it, but I must. Leave House Eldran."

The suggestion was completely unexpected. It had not occurred to Uachi and probably never would have. He was troubled by Padréc's words, spoken in a tone of resignation, but he was more troubled by the thought of leaving. Something fierce rose up in him at the notion that he might simply slip away and leave this family to its fate.

"My brother's heart will break, but he is resilient," said Padréc. "For your own sake, you should go."

"I won't leave him. I am not so fickle."

"It has nothing to do with fickleness. It has to do with your safety."

"You think me in danger?"

"Look around you." Padréc gestured to the wall of alcoves, the unfortunate nobility there enclosed. "Who's to say what Father will do? I'm not convinced of my own safety, let alone yours."

"I've done nothing to him."

"Neither had these people."

"Perhaps, but that depends on your perspective. The first night I met Diarmán, children had left bruises on his face from throwing stones. Your blood singles you out just as my marke does me."

"True enough."

"So your father must think that these people were part of the human world that has wronged him."

"The human world has not wronged my father." Padréc sounded bitterly amused. "His issue should surely be with my grandfather alone. My brother, perhaps, for stealing us away, and my mother and the rest of us for running. People have been cruel to us, that is true, but it is a rare man or woman who could raise a hand against Han Taín. He worked his spell because he wished to. It was no kind of retribution. He might do the same to you at any turn. You and Aerte and the servants, all of you must go."

Uachi huffed a laugh of disbelief. "I had thought I might have become something like a friend to you."

Padréc laid a hand on his forearm. "Truly, you have. I see the way my brother looks at you. You are dear to him. Very dear. And you have not been among us long, but it feels already as if you are a part of us. Besides, we owe you a great debt, not just for accompanying Diarmán to Queen Coratse's court but for being his companion and keeping him safe—and, indeed, for our security. I suffer no delusions. Had you not met my brother, had your paths not interwoven, we would not have a future here. Coratse would have taken our house and our lands the moment our grandfather breathed his last, in accordance with his will, and we might have been turned out onto the streets, or my mother forced to marry a stranger."

"So I am a friend to you and your brothers. Your father has no reason to spite me—at least, not yet."

"He needs no reason."

"What do you think he will do, then?"

"I do not know. I know only that he is a man of great power and greater will. He is angry. He needs to be feared and respected. He did not come here simply to play a trick and leave again. Whatever he has, he wants more of—and anything that distracts from his desires is an enemy to him."

"I mean to speak with Diarmán this morning. We must determine how we might turn him away again."

Padréc sighed. His hand slipped away from Uachi's arm.

"What?"

"I fear for my brothers. I do not think Father will hurt us. I do not think he will have to. Diarmán is the one of us who remembers him best, Uachi—remembers him as a father and as a king.

"It may already be too late to stop what has begun."