Chapter Seven
Rayna
The first time Rayna Jumped she was twelve years old. It had taken years of pestering Father for him to finally let her train with the Shade Hunters, years of begging and sneaking out of her room to watch the apprentices in the courtyards. Whenever Othilia wasn't looking, Rayna would slip through the locked doors and out into the hallway, past Father’s rooms, down the grand stairway and out onto the balcony that overlooked the training grounds. She would crouch low behind one of the great terracotta pots with the olive trees growing out of them and, feeling a bit like a weed in a well-tended garden, she would watch.
Back then there were six of them living in the Great House. Xavi and Ricard had been living there for as long as Rayna could remember and she always got a thrill watching as they shot fireballs at each other while Master Jan hurtled his vulgar instructions at them. The young men had already been full-blown Shade Hunters, so when they weren’t practicing their drills they would help Master Jan train the younger twins or go about their own business, which often involved sneaking Rayna treats from the kitchen and storybooks from the library.
The youngest of the Hunters were Broderick and Eli, who were only a year older than Rayna but acted like they were already adults. Whenever both Xavi and Ricard were out of the house Rayna would make sure to stay in her chambers, otherwise the younger boys would start picking on her. Broderick in particular had a nasty habit of sneaking up on her and scaring her, a prank that was all the more disconcerting since he could make himself almost completely invisible. Eventually Rayna learned to discern the faint ripples in the air - almost like heat rising off a stone walkway - that would betray his presence, but at ten years old she hadn’t yet learned to be on guard against such things. Unlike the Shade Hunters, she had been raised within Father’s house and had never learned the constant wariness and caution that street children wore about them like a cloak. Broderick knew this and took full advantage of her lack of awareness every chance he got, and wherever Broderick led Eli followed. Xavi and Ricard were able to shield her from their teasing some, but they were the only ones who ever bothered looking out for her. She’d often imagine that Xavi and Ricard would someday turn out to be her older brothers, just like the long-lost prince in one of her storybooks. But then they had been reassigned and Rayna never saw them again. She hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye - she just came downstairs one morning and they were gone.
Jana and Marta, on the other hand, treated Rayna with indifference, hardly ever acknowledging her existence. They spent most of their time studying the feminine arts, though they would occasionally train in some of the more basic fighting skills, such as knife work and self-defense. They were fourteen when they first arrived, transferring in from another house when Rayna was only nine. Othilia would often spend her afternoons instructing the two young women in needlepoint or etiquette while Rayna was supposed to be in her chambers taking her tea and reading. There was a corner of the courtyard that was shaded under a gazebo and it was here that they would take their lessons. Rayna could see their table clearly from her hiding place on the balcony and as she grew older she would often find herself watching the young women almost as much as she watched the boys sparring in the center of the courtyard. She was in awe of how graceful they were, how every motion they made was smooth and effortless. She doubted that she would ever be able to match their beauty. Occasionally Jana would look up from whatever she was working on at the time and stare directly at Rayna. Everyone knew about her hiding place and were more surprised if she wasn’t crouched beside the planters than if she was. She would gasp and slip behind the pot, embarrassed at once again having been found out. She would sigh and look down at herself, with her rumpled skirts and dirty knees plainly visible on her white tights. Othilia would inevitably arrive a few moments later, glaring down at her and clucking her tongue.
“Miss Rayna,” she would say, “must we go through this yet again?”
“Father don’t mind…”
“If that were truly the case he would not have instructed me to return you to your chambers whenever we find you here. It is not proper for a young lady of your station to observe such raucous activities.”
“But Marta and Jana…”
“... Are commoners. We have been over this before, miss. Come along now.”
Rayna would huff, standing and pouting. “I’m a commoner too, ya know.”
“You are the Lord’s ward. Your positions are hardly comparable.”
“Fine,” she would mutter, half-heartedly trying to smooth her dress as she stepped past Othilia through the doors and back into the Great House. Othilia would sigh, following Rayna inside and closing and locking the doors to the balcony - as if that would do any good.
“Now,” Othilia would say, looking down at her young charge with mild exasperation. “Let us return to your chambers. It seems we will be practicing speech for the rest of the afternoon. Your diction is scandalous.”
----------------------------------------
Rayna woke with a gasp, her lungs cramping and convulsing. The room was dark, warm and stale and it took her several minutes to realize that she was lying on her back, staring up at a stone ceiling. She was not in her bedroom. Whatever she was lying on was not her mattress but something else - not hard but firm - and she had no blanket. Her breaths came in short, shallow gasps and her arms and legs felt like rocks - cold and heavy. She had felt like this before and knew that panicking would only make things worse, but the strangeness of the room and the intensity of her chest cramps were making it hard to remain calm. Her head felt fuzzy and she was having difficulty focusing her eyes on anything. She suspected that it wasn't only because the room was so dark.
She concentrated on her breathing, trying to slow and control the rapid, short gasps; breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth like Father had taught her. She tried to ignore the pain in her chest and the claustrophobia that was threatening to overwhelm her. The dim light and stifling air pressed in on her so she closed her eyes as she breathed in, out, in, out, in… a wave of dizziness washed over her and broke her rhythm. She coughed - a good sign, all things considered - opening her eyes and sitting up. Or, at least, she tried to sit up. She tried to move but her body wouldn’t obey. It wasn't just her arms and legs but her entire body that felt heavy and stiff. Nothing seemed to be working right.
The little bit of calm she had managed to hold on to slipped from her grasp and she began to hyperventilate. Her eyes darted around what little she could see of the room, still unable to focus. Everything was fuzzy and dim. To her right she caught a little glimpse of flickering lamp light and she tried to turn her head to look at it but her neck wouldn’t budge. She gulped, feeling sick, feeling the panic welling up and threatening to overwhelm her. Her fingertips started to tingle as her muscles ran low on oxygen and she continued to gasp tiny, ineffective breaths of air.
Focus… Breathe… she tried to tell herself, but found she could do neither. The warmth and the dark pressed in on her and blackness clouded the edges of her vision. She caught sight of the lamplight again and strained to look at it, to reach out and grab hold of it. She fought against the pain, against the darkness, against her own heavy and weak body. If she could only grab hold of the light, then she could bring herself back under control and she could figure out what was going on and escape. She had beaten the odds before, she would do it again. She would break free. She would escape. If only she could reach the light…
----------------------------------------
Rayna felt pretty. She’d always known she was a beautiful child: everyone told her so. But tonight she was on her way to have dinner with Father, and so Othilia had brought out a very fancy dress for her to wear. It was a frilly light-yellow thing that reminded Rayna of the yellow roses in the west garden. The folds of the skirts hung in several layers, each longer than the one above it, stopping just above her ankles. The arms were made of the finest lace, flaring out at her elbows and hanging so low she wondered how she would manage to keep them out of her soup. The neckline was cut in a very slight “v”, which made her feel very grown-up indeed. Her hair was done in such a complicated braid that Othilia had brought in another maid to help her out and it had still taken over an hour to get just right. Rayna was proud of herself: she had managed to sit mostly still while Othilia and the maid fussed over her, only getting scolded twice to stop fidgeting.
Her stomach fluttered as they approached the large double doors to the dining room. She had eaten meals with Father before, of course, but it didn't happen very often and every time she felt nervous. She stopped just outside the doors and took a deep breath, stifling a cough as she did so. She glanced at Othilia, then folded her hands neatly in front of her and gave a slight nod. Othilia nodded back with just a hint of a smile, then opened the doors to the dining room and stepped aside for Rayna to pass.
Father was inside already, standing near the fireplace and speaking with Master Jan. Rayna paused, drawing up short, surprised to see the training master. He was dressed in fine dinner clothes, looking cleaner and more refined than she had ever seen him. His long black hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and his mustache and beard were oiled to a shine. She had known Master Jan her entire life, but this was the first time she could ever remember actually seeing him wearing anything other than his work clothes and old-fashioned leather jerkin. Rayna realized she was staring. She recovered herself and walked into the dining room with as much grace as she could muster, which she didn't think was very much. The men stopped their conversation and looked over at her. Father nodded briefly at Master Jan and handed his wine to a waiting footman, then crossed the room, extending his hand toward Rayna.
“Rayna, my child,” he said in his smooth baritone. She smiled softly and took his hand, as she had been taught. Her heart fluttered briefly as she looked up at him. Rayna often forgot just how big Father was, since she normally only saw him from a distance. But now that she was standing right next to him, allowing him to escort her to the table, she was reminded just how massive he really was. Her shoulders barely rose above his hips, and she had to hold her hand just a little higher than was comfortable in order for him to even reach her. She almost felt like a baby, walking next to him.
He brought her to the chair just to the left of the head of the table and a footman stepped forward to pull the seat out for her. She flashed Father another smile as she smoothly sat down, barely having to stretch at all to slide into the chair. Her feet didn't quite touch the floor, but her toes did if she let them dangle just a little. Father stepped back and gestured for Master Jan to take the seat to his right, across from Rayna. Once they were all seated the footmen stepped in with the food. Father and Master Jan selected their preferred cuts of meat and sides from the presented platters while Othilia silently stepped in and made Rayna’s selections for her. At first Rayna pouted that she wasn't allowed to select her own food but the indignation passed quickly once she realized that everything looked far more delicious and fancy than her typical meals. Another footman approached and poured wine for Father and Master Jan, while yet another provided Rayna with chilled melon juice. It was almost overwhelming; the sheer amount of servants who were present for a simple dinner. Rayna normally ate in her chambers, where only a single maid and sometimes Othilia attended to her. Her food would be brought in on a cart, already plated, with only one or two options for an extra side or simple dessert. Sitting here with Father and Master Jan she could almost imagine herself at one of the fancy dinner feasts or balls she would read about in her studies.
The footmen retreated to the walls and Othilia placed a large cloth napkin across Rayna’s lap before also stepping away, though not quite as far back as the footmen. Rayna wanted to frown at the napkin. Something about it made her feel like a little kid. But after she thought about it for a moment she agreed that it would be a shame to get any stains on the pretty new dress so she decided not to worry about it. Father cleared his throat, softly, then bowed his head and touched the loosely clasped fist of his right hand to his forehead, just above the bridge of his nose. Rayna and Master Jan did the same, and Father offered a brief prayer of thanks for the meal and the blessings of the day. When Rayna ate alone in her chambers she rarely ever prayed, but meals with Father were different. Father always prayed. “Lest we forget the old ways and those who made all we have possible,” he would say.
After the prayer Father nodded at his guests, indicating that they should begin eating. Meals with Father were always quiet. It wasn't that he forbade conversation, but there was something about his bearing that didn’t exactly invite casual talk or idle chatter. And so it caught Rayna a little by surprise when, after several minutes, he turned and spoke to her.
“I am pleased you have joined us this evening, child,” he said.
Rayna hesitated, her fork halfway to her open mouth. “Uuuhhhh…” she said, and suddenly felt very foolish, snapping her mouth closed. Father had invited her, after all. Of course she came.
It only took her a moment to regain her composure and remember her manners. She gently set the fork down and folded her hands in her lap. “But of course, Father,” she said, hardly stammering at all. He had barely touched his food, though a half-empty wine glass was in his hand. She tried not to look down as she repeated what Othilia had taught her to say. “I was pleased to receive your most gracious invitation and have been looking forward to joining you for this meal since your letter first arrived.” She didn't think she said it exactly right, but Father smiled softly so she must have gotten it mostly correct.
“Yes, well, I am only sorry that we cannot sup together more often.” He paused and took a hesitant drink of wine, almost draining his cup. “However,” he continued, his voice sounding a little less certain than usual, “now that you are growing older I shall make arrangements so that we may take our meals together somewhat more regularly.”
Rayna beamed. “I would like that very much, Father.”
Master Jan cleared his throat and Father frowned slightly, turning to look at him. The eyes of the two men met and Rayna was certain that they had an entire conversation in that brief moment, though neither said a word. Father frowned and finished off his wine. Rayna felt a change come over him as he lowered his cup and looked back at her. She quickly picked up her fork again and ate her meat. Just in case she didn't get another chance - it really was better than what she normally had. She was suddenly worried that she was about to be in trouble, though she couldn’t have said why.
“Master Jan tells me that you have been sneaking onto the balcony more frequently as of late.”
Rayna stared at her plate as she chewed. It wasn’t very lady-like to ignore someone who was speaking to you, especially not the Lord of the house. But she couldn’t think of anything to say so she just studied the mound of mashed potatoes in front of her. It looked like a little mountain. It even had a gravy lake, and the flecks of chives could have been tiny trees…
Silence hung in the air for a minute or two and then she heard Father sigh. “Well,” he said finally, his voice sounding heavy and kind of tired. “You are eleven years old now, and I have done all I know in order to ensure that you grow as a proper lady. However, I have no wife and know little of how to raise young girls. You are also my ward, and not my daughter, though I would hope to change that one day.”
Rayna had stopped chewing. She was barely breathing. Father was about to say something very important and she didn’t want to miss it, but she still couldn't bring herself to look at him. She heard a footman refilling his wine glass.
“Master Jan can be quite persuasive when he sets his mind to it, and I long ago learned to trust him in most things. In this one thing, however, I have struggled against his advice - and my own intuition - for too long. And that one thing is this: It is past time that you should begin your training with the Shade Hunters.”
Rayna almost dropped her fork and she heard Othilia quietly gasp behind her. She slowly lifted her head and stared at Father, barely hoping to believe she had heard him correctly. He was already taking another drink of his wine so she couldn’t see his eyes, but there was something about the set of his broad shoulders that suggested to Rayna that she had, indeed, heard him right. He was finally going to let her start training with the others. All of the begging and sneaking and whining was finally paying off.
Before she or anyone else knew what was happening she was out of her chair and had her arms wrapped around Father as best she could. She couldn’t see his look of shock because her face was buried in his dinner jacket and tears of happiness were dripping heavily from her eyes. But she did feel, after a moment of hesitation, Father resting his massive hand on the back of her head and gently stroking her hair.
----------------------------------------
Rayna gradually became aware that she was awake again. The darkness slowly peeled away from her vision and she once again saw the dark gray stones of the ceiling above her and the faint flickering glow of the lamp off to her right. Her lungs were sore but no longer cramping and her breaths came in long, slow, laborious draws of air that felt thick and heavy. Each breath was a great effort that yielded little result, but at least she felt like she was in control of herself again.
At least a little. She still couldn't move. Her limbs still felt heavy and refused to budge. She felt a twinge of panic deep in her gut, but was too tired to humor it. Something was terribly wrong and yet she was surprisingly apathetic about it. The events of the night had exhausted her completely - physically and emotionally - and she found she had nothing left to give. She had no fight left in her. She felt empty. Drained.
She was in the cot room in the basement. She knew this, somehow, though she didn’t know how she knew it, or how she had gotten there. She could remember almost nothing after climbing into the carriage with Father. Maybe it was the stale air that gave it away? She considered Jumping herself to the hallway just outside the door. She remembered it well enough that she thought she could do it without much trouble, but she couldn’t even manage to lift a finger so there was no way she had the strength for a Jump. Besides, Father had wards on the room. She could feel them, pressing in on her and suppressing what little power she had left. She tried to groan and found that she couldn’t even manage that much. All she could do was lay there and breathe, staring up at the ceiling.
Xavi was nearby. And probably Ricard too, though she hadn’t seen him. They had been down here for nearly seven years. Were they in the same state she was in? Were they able to see and hear and think but unable to do anything else? That train of thought terrified her and she felt her breathing speed up. Father had said he was trying to help them. Had the same thing that happened to them happened to her too? Or had he done something to them instead? Was this some sort of punishment for disobeying him? Each new thought brought with it even more questions and she felt the panic rising. And with the panic came the chest constrictions and cramps. She started to sweat despite her lips being dry and cracked. Her fingers and toes tingled.
Not again, she thought, fighting against the pain and discomfort. Against the panic. Damnit, not now.
The attack came fast and left her weaker than before, which she wouldn’t have thought possible. She wanted to fight, wanted to push back against whatever illness she had that was crushing her lungs and robbing her of her strength. She wanted to laugh in the face of her own weakness, as she always had. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t even lift a finger, much less a fist. All she could do was lay there, stiff as a statue, and let the convulsions and cramps ravage her body. When it was done she didn't even have the strength to cry.
----------------------------------------
Rayna stood in the middle of the courtyard, frowning despite her excited nerves. The clothes still felt strange to her, despite having tried them on several times over the last couple of weeks while they were being tailored. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, feeling the tight leather of the boots settling with each movement. They were much heavier than the cloth slippers she normally wore. She tugged at the legs of her breeches, the tight wool scratchy against her legs. The scent of freshly oiled leather flooded her nose, wafting off the jerkin and greaves that Master Jan insisted all his students wear, despite being nearly half a century out of fashion. The thin white blouse was the only piece of clothing she wore that felt even remotely familiar, though with the jerkin and greaves in place even that familiar article of clothing was foreign and uncomfortable. She held a wooden staff, a foot and a half taller than she was, and a dagger was strapped to her hip, held securely in a leather sheath far finer than anything the other Shade Hunters had. She fidgeted again, wiggling her hips against the unfamiliarity of the breeches and belt. She felt like a boy, or rather, how she imagined boys would feel. If it wasn’t for the ponytail that kept swinging about as she moved her head from side to side she could almost imagine that she really was a boy and that Father really was her true father and not just her guardian. It was a very odd feeling.
A sharp cracking sound erupted from the pavers at her feet and she yelped, dropping the staff as she jumped back, stumbling and almost falling because of how different the boots and pants made her every movement feel. Master Jan yanked his whip back, allowing the leather to wrap itself around his shoulder and back. She recovered her footing and stood, glaring at him. Master Jan glowered back at her, frowning and shifting his eyes ever so slightly toward the staff that was laying on the ground a couple of feet in front of her. Rayna shifted, trying to balance her weight the way Master Jan had been teaching her while they waited for her clothes to be finished. She took a breath, trying to calm her nerves after the shock of the whip crack. The breath caught in her chest and she suppressed a sudden cough. Master Jan straightened, his scowl softening and the grip on his whip relaxing. Rayna straightened herself again and snorted, then launched herself toward the staff. She had let her mind wander - let herself get distracted by the strange new clothes and even stranger thoughts that had forced their way unbidden to her mind - and Master Jan was always one to exploit any lapse in his student’s attention. She had seen it often enough from the balcony that she understood immediately what Master Jan was trying to do. Her almost-cough had caused Master Jan to lower his guard - just for a moment - as he considered whether she was healthy enough for training today. And so she exploited his own lapse of attention and made for the staff, hoping that the extra second or two that it bought her would be enough.
It was not. It was Rayna’s first real day of training, after all, and Master Jan had been training apprentices for fifteen years and had been a soldier for as many years before that. His whip lashed out and caught around her ankle, stinging her flesh even through the thick leather boots. Before she could cry out he yanked back on the whip and her foot flew forward. She fell back hard, almost cracking her head on the pavement.
She groaned and rolled to her side, then winced as something spiky poked her in the shoulder. She pushed herself to her knees and found herself staring at a small, hard weed that was pushing itself out of a crack between the paving stones. She scoffed and shook her head, rubbing her shoulder where it had poked her. She heard Master Jan approach, his heavy boots clop-clop-clopping toward her. He stopped and reached his hand down to her. She sighed and took his hand, noticing a bit of blood on her fingers where she had been rubbing her shoulder. Such a small thing, that weed, yet it had drawn blood while Master Jan had not. She let him hoist her to her feet as easily as a bag of apples.
“Lesson number one, child,” he growled, his voice a hoarse, raspy sound, with just a hint of a western isles accent. “Never do what your opponent expects of you. Should of gone for your knife. You were safe, outside the range of my whip. If your aim was good and your arm strong enough, maybe you could have struck me from a distance.”
Rayna scowled and rubbed her backside. It was going to be sore for days, she could already tell. Then, with a huff, she snatched up her staff.
“Like I can know what my opponent thinks I’m gonna do. I can’t read minds.”
“Not yet, but you’ll learn. There’s more to fighting than punching and stabbing.”
“Fine then,” she said, “the next time, I’ll stick ya.”
“Won’t be a next time,” Master Jan rasped. “That’s lesson number two; the same trick almost never works twice. Not in the same fight anyway, and never against the same opponent. If you drop your weapon again my whip will find your flesh, not your boots. Now, give me four laps around the courtyard and then maybe we’ll see what we can do with that magic of yours.”
Rayna frowned. She had never been good at running. Even if Othilia had allowed it - which she most certainly did not - her lungs always gave out after only a minute or two. She doubted she would be able to manage even one lap, much less four.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Get going,” Master Jan said, smacking her hard on her already sore bottom with the handle of his whip. “Lads your age, I'd be sending for ten laps. Now hop to it or that’s what you’ll be getting.”
She took off at a trot and sure enough, even before she reached the courtyard walls, she was breathing hard. But she was doing it. She was training. After a lifetime of watching from the balcony, of being treated like a pampered rich girl instead of a street urchin like the others, she was finally getting the treatment she deserved.
As she neared the pavilion where Jana and Marta were sitting and practicing their needlepoint she glanced up at the balcony, at her old hiding spot. Father was standing there, watching her. Their eyes met and he frowned. Then he shook his head sadly and turned away, heading back into the house.
----------------------------------------
Rayna could barely open her eyes. Not that it made any difference, the room was so dark. She had no strength and almost no will. She had no idea how long she had been in the room, laying on her back, unable to move. There was nothing to mark the passage of time. There were no windows and no one ever came into the room, at least not that she noticed. She idly wondered how the lantern kept burning if no one ever refilled the oil, but that was a minor concern. What concerned her more was her own apathy. Her entire life she had always fought harder and longer than anyone around her, and she had survived because of it. Even before becoming a Shade Hunter she had been forced to prove herself in other ways.
But here, in the dark, she had no more will to fight. She had become her own enemy and found that she could not win. Her own body had defeated her. Her lungs had won, sapping her of all her strength. They attacked more often now. So much that she counted the times when she could breathe normally more than the times she could not. She no longer noticed the pain. All that was left to her was the dark.
----------------------------------------
Rayna crouched in the shadows, watching. Waiting. She could see the hat shop entrance from behind the fence, the slats wide enough for her to see through, the shadows of the alley making it hard for the passers by to notice her. Not that they ever looked. She had not been waiting long. It was one of Master Jan’s lessons: movement is life. Stay in one place too long and you will be found. So she had moved, casually walking the street several times, waiting for Adrick to confirm their target was in the shop. Only when he had given her the signal did she hide, carefully slipping through the building across from the shop and into the alley.
Remei came into view, drifting lazily up the sidewalk. Her timing was perfect, of course. The door opened and a young woman stepped onto the street. Remei passed right through her, identifying the woman as Rayna’s target. The young woman - she was dressed as a lady's maid - didn’t even notice. Rayna watched closely as the maid adjusted the parcel she was carrying, adjusting her purse on her shoulder as she started off down the street. Remei continued on in the opposite direction, seemingly taking no notice of anyone or anything. Just another shade, unremarkable even to the few who could see her.
Rayna watched as the young maid reached the corner, still barely within her view. The maid waited a moment for the road to clear and crossed over to Rayna’s side of the street, and it was time for her to get moving. Rayna stood and jogged to the far end of the alley before slipping back through the wall into the shop she had been hiding next to. On the other side of the wall was a storeroom that was rarely used, which was why Rayna had chosen this store. She could slip in and out without much risk of being noticed, even in the middle of the day. They had done these sorts of exercises several times now and Rayna was beginning to learn which buildings were easy for her to sneak through and which weren’t. She ran past the wooden shelves and ducked low next to the door that led to the sales floor, carefully poking her head through just enough to see if anyone was nearby. There was no one that she could see, so she crawled through and darted towards the front door and was out on the street before anyone had noticed her. She scampered down the street, ducking around the rich people casually window shopping. A few of them cried out, but she looked and acted just like any other street urchin, so no one really paid her much mind.
She reached the end of the block and rounded the corner. The maid was there, about halfway down the block, so Rayna slowed a bit, trying to blend in. There were fewer people on this street, and in another block they would be out of the shopping district and into one of the nicer neighborhoods. The maid was surely returning to her mistress to deliver her package, but that was not Rayna’s concern. She was after the purse.
By the time the maid reached the next corner Rayna had caught up to her. She hung back, sticking close to the walls. The two or three other people nearby continued on, turning either left or right, but the maid stopped at the corner, waiting for the road to clear. Rayna had her chance and she took it. She carefully stepped away from the wall, her bare feet making hardly any sound against the smooth stones of the sidewalk. She was short, even for an eleven year old, so it was easy for her to stay low and out of the maid’s peripheral vision. She quickly slid up behind the maid, reaching out and gently touching the purse. She let loose with her power, trying to time it for the exact moment her fingers touched the purse. Too soon and the power wouldn’t be as effective, too late and the maid would feel the purse move when her fingers touched it. She got it almost right. The purse shifted ever so slightly as she grabbed it, but before the maid even noticed it slipped right off her shoulder and into Rayna’s hands.
Rayna quickly slipped the purse over her neck and into her loose beggar’s tunic, stepping into the street and following after the people who had turned left moments ago. She didn't even bother to look back at the maid, didn’t do anything to draw attention to herself. At least she hoped not. Her legs were tense as she walked, trying not to run, but ready to the moment someone cried out. No one did. She reached the opposite corner and turned up the street, heading back to the main road, smiling.
She ducked into the crowd of shoppers and started weaving her way south, heading back to Father’s house. Adrick and Remei had probably already returned, their part in the exercise having been completed. She didn’t have far to go. The shopping district Master Jan had sent them to was only about a half mile from the house. He never sent the younger trainees very far, in case they got into trouble, and even though Adrick was almost fifteen he was fresh off the streets and Remei hadn’t even been a shade for a full year yet. They were both almost as green as Rayna was, though the way they talked you never would have known it.
She had only been walking for about five minutes when the shops lining the road changed from fine eateries and millineries to law offices and trade houses and the bridge over the river gently rose ahead of her. She turned east one block before the bridge and the high, white walls of Father’s house greeted her. She avoided the main gate, keeping clear of the guards posted out front, and walked around to the river side. They weren’t supposed to use the front gate; Master Jan didn’t want anyone to see them coming or going when they were on their exercises. About halfway down, pressed right up against the river bank, was a small wooden door. It was here, in the one spot of the wall that was not warded against her power, she slipped through and back into her home.
Master Jan was waiting for her, sitting on a bench near the door. He was reclining against the wall, his feet kicked out in front of him. Adrick was practicing his forms in the courtyard, going through his warm-ups. Remei drifted nearby, eyeing Rayna mischievously as she emerged from the door into the courtyard. Rayna straightened and tossed the purse to Master Jan. The old trainer snatched the bag from the air, hardly seeming to have moved. He never even looked at Rayna. She leaned against the wall and slid to the ground, tucking her knees up inside her dress and trying to sit in the way that Master Jan had taught her. The irony did not escape her. She was an orphan, born on the streets and left to die in a gutter, yet she had to be taught how to sit like a street kid.
Master Jan regarded the purse for a moment then frowned. Rayna gasped, stifling a cough that almost burst out as she caught her breath. That… wasn’t good. Master Jan rarely looked happy, even when he was, but the way he looked now Rayna knew something was wrong. She pulled her knees in tighter, watching to see what he would do next.
He narrowed his eyes at Rayna, then shook his head and undid the purse’s clasp. It was a simple bag but well made and obviously not cheap. It wasn’t very flashy, but neither would it embarrass the maid’s Lady when they were out together. He looked inside for a moment and then sighed, upending the contents into his lap before tossing the purse back to Rayna.
To her surprise, she caught it. She was sitting on the ground only a couple of feet from where Master Jan was reclining on the bench, and only a month ago she would not have been able to react fast enough to catch the bag. Master Jan picked through the odds and ends one at a time. There was nothing there that seemed unusual to Rayna, just the typical sorts of things that any lady’s maid would carry with her. The wallet wasn’t even that thick. A real thief would have been upset at how little money there was inside. Rayna was starting to get nervous as Master Jan set aside the last few items and turned to look at her. She shrunk from his gaze. If the wall hadn’t been warded, she would have slipped inside.
“You will return the purse,” he said, his raspy voice low and dangerous. “You will not get caught, and when you return you will spend the next week on night watch.”
Rayna jumped to her feet, her tired lungs forgotten for the moment. “What! But I completed the mission! I retrieved the purse, and no one saw me do it!”
Master Jan leaned forward, setting the purse’s contents aside. “This particular purse was not the mission. We are not thieves. We are not crooks. We are Shade Hunters. You will return it.”
Rayna opened her mouth to protest, but shut it quickly, turning to glare at Remei. The shade was watching from across the courtyard, trying not to laugh. Rayna stared at her, heat rising in her cheeks. There was no way that Remei could have marked the wrong person by accident.
Master Jan studied Rayna for a moment, then turned to follow her gaze. He frowned, then looked back at Rayna.
“The shade marked the maid, yes?”
Rayna nodded.
Master Jan sighed and stood. “Still, you will return the purse. We are Shade Hunters. We do not harm those we are meant to protect. The maid will feel the loss deeply if the purse is not returned.”
“What about Remei?”
“Not your concern.”
Rayna huffed. It wasn’t fair. Remei had tricked her, but she was still in trouble. And how could you punish a shade anyway? And how did Master Jan know that the purse belonged to a maid?
“Life is not often fair,” Master Jan said, stepping forward and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Yet we make the best we can from what we’re given. Don’t think of this as a punishment, but as a further test. You have shown that you can take, but can you give?”
Rayna looked up and met Master Jan’s gaze. She frowned, some of her anger deflating as he looked at her with a softness she had never noticed before. After a moment he sighed again and nodded toward the wooden door.
“Go,” he said, dropping the wallet back into the purse that Rayna had almost forgotten she was holding. He nodded over his shoulder, at Adrick and Remei. “Don’t let them see that you’re upset. Show them you’re the better person, and let that be your revenge.”
Rayna nodded, even though she didn’t know what he meant by that last bit, and scooped the rest of the maid’s belongings back into the purse. How could doing nothing be revenge? Whatever. She’d worry about it later. Right now she had a job to do. She closed the purse and slipped back out the door, leaving Remei’s cackling laughter and Adrick’s dark stares behind her.
----------------------------------------
She drifted in and out of consciousness, the low flickering glow of the lamp the only indication of whether she was awake or asleep. In many ways, her dreams now felt more real than the waking world. In her dreams there was no fear, there was no pain. In her dreams her sister was with her, walking beside her, holding her hand and telling her she was strong. In her dreams it never mattered how much Broderick teased her or how often Adrick tried to hurt her because she was never alone. She had her sister, and that was enough. She could endure. In her dreams it never mattered that Father ignored her and refused to love her. It didn’t matter that he never made her a part of his life because in her dreams she had her true family. In her dreams she was loved. She was wanted. She was free.
But when she was awake all she had was the little flickering light on the edge of the darkness. When she was awake the pain would come back, reminding her of how weak she was. When she was awake she was alone; alone with all the others who now existed only in the dark. Alone with all those who, like her, had failed Father.
When she was awake she was alone with the darkness and the darkness wept, for she could not.
----------------------------------------
Rayna was running out of options. She ducked around a corner and into a hedge before pushing her cloak aside and tying the messenger’s satchel around her waist. She gasped in a couple of deep breaths, trying not to cough as the chill evening air filled her burning lungs. She would probably be sick for a couple of days after this, but that was happening less and less often the longer she trained. At least, in that one way, she was getting stronger. She still couldn’t run nearly as fast or as long as the others, but Master Jan assured her that it was because they were all older than her and had been training longer. She didn’t believe him - the perpetual acidic burn in her muscles and persistent cough telling her otherwise - but it was still nice of him to say it.
She couldn’t afford to rest long though, so after only about a minute she cinched her cloak tight and carefully eased her way back onto the sidewalk. She had managed to make it halfway across town already, and she only had half a mile to go before getting back to Father’s house, but the Shade Hunters were closing in. She could feel Adrick searching for her in that strange way of his. She could feel him in the back of her mind and knew that he was getting close. She also thought she had seen Broderick a few minutes ago, his shimmering outline displacing a whisp of fog. She had slipped through a carriage house to get away from him but she wasn’t sure if he had seen her or not. Jana and Marta were participating in this exercise as well, but she had no idea what their part was. Their particular style of magic wasn’t really all that useful in a chase but just knowing that they were out there somewhere, looking for her, was making her nervous.
And there were also the city guards to worry about, who were out in force and looking for her. Master Jan had gotten them involved as well this time, and Raynna was certain he hadn’t told them it was just a training exercise. So far this was proving to be the most difficult exercise she had ever participated in, and she felt like she was about to fail.
A dog barked nearby and Rayna jumped, whirling around and half expecting either Adrick or Eli to be there, charging at her with a grin on their face. They always got a thrill out of catching her. It gave them an excuse to rough her up a bit without getting scolded too harshly by Master Jan, and they would gloat over their victory for weeks afterwards, never letting her forget how much stronger and faster they were.
But there was no one there, and she cursed at herself. She was more jumpy than usual, for some reason. Maybe it was the constant nagging of Adrick’s power in her mind, or the stress of not knowing where anyone else was. It didn’t matter. She had to get a handle on her nerves or they were going to get her caught. She shook her head clear and turned back down the street, sprinting on ahead while glancing from side to side for any sign of the other Hunters.
Her sister jogged along beside her, whispering encouragement in her ear. “Come on, Ray, you can do this,” she said, her voice soft and soothing. It gave Rayna strength, and she pushed forward.
The neighborhood she was in was to the west of Father’s estate, and she knew it well. But so did the others. The others, however, did not have her powers. She ducked across the street and slipped through a carriage house and into a large, green yard. Tule fog was beginning to rise from the lush, unnaturally flat lawn as the dark gray shadows of twilight faded to black. The last rays of sunlight reflected off the tips of the estate’s spires, scattering into the deepening night like torchlight. Rayna paused for a moment, quickly scanning the garden, checking for anyone who might still be lingering in the chill of the evening. No one was about, as far as she could tell, so she skirted the carriage house until she reached the hedge, then darted down the length of the yard, trying to hold to the darkest of the shadows. The other Hunters may not have had her powers, but they had tricks of their own and knew this neighborhood as well as she did. The closer she got to Father’s estate the less advantage she had.
She reached the back of the garden and stopped short, cursing. The hedge continued on to the left, cutting her off from the street beyond. She’d thought that this estate had an iron fence across the back, something that she could slip through. But all she could see was a thick, perfectly manicured hedge, and not for the first time she cursed her inability to affect living things. The shadows here were deep and she quickly made her way from one side of the yard to the other, searching for a gate or some other opening that she could pass through. There was nothing, and another glance into the main yard showed that the only gaps in the hedge were the front gate and the carriage house.
“Fantastic,” Rayna muttered. She had two options now. She could head back the way she had come and circle around the block, or try and climb the hedge. She frowned. She wasn’t great at climbing, having spent most of her childhood indoors with caretakers who actively discouraged such “un-lady-like behavior”, and she had quickly discovered that hedges were nearly impossible to climb anyway, which was why they made such great fences.
Her sister gave her a nudge, smiling. “You got this,” she said.
Rayna took a breath and worked her way around the back of the house and, crouching low, creeped down the narrow gap between the house and the hedge, avoiding the large patches of light that shone through the still opened windows. She glanced occasionally at the hedge, hoping to spot an opening. Unsurprisingly she found none.
She quickly found herself back at the front of the estate, on the opposite corner of the yard from the carriage house. The hedge was solid up to the front gate, but arched elegantly over the intricate wrought iron bars of the gate itself. Twin gas lamps illuminated the gate and walkway, and Rayna frowned. She would have to pass through the lamplight whether she made her way to the gate or carriage house. She huffed, which quickly turned into a short, raspy cough, the sound sharp and loud in the fog-muffled silence of the night. She clamped a hand over her mouth and crouched low beside the large front porch of the house and held her breath, which was difficult as her lungs continued to convulse slightly, fluttering in her chest. She watched for a minute, but there was no sign of movement from within the house. A minute more and she slowly lowered her hands from her mouth, allowing herself to breathe normally again. Her lungs had settled down and she was grateful that the coughing fit hadn’t turned into a full-on attack. She’d had enough rotten luck and stupid mistakes for one night.
She crept forward to the edge of the walkway, keeping tight against the porch and avoiding the soft wash of the gas lamps. There was nothing for it, though. She was going to have to chance a dash across the walkway, unless she went all the way back around the house again. This was costing her way too much time already, and she could feel Adrick’s presence growing stronger by the second. She took a breath, hoping that it didn’t turn into another cough, and stood as much as she dared, preparing to dash across the walkway toward the carriage house. She glanced toward the house again, then tensed to sprint forward.
“Raaaynaaa,” Remei’s sing-song voice cried softly, carrying into the yard as her shimmering gray form drifted through the hedge, between the gate and the carriage house. Rayna froze, stumbling as her legs found themselves halfway between launching forward and stopping dead in their tracks.
Remei looked around as she drifted further into the yard. Her eyes gleamed as they searched the yard, a smile forming on her pale face as she saw Rayna crouched awkwardly near the walkway. “Found you,” she said gleefully, “we knew you were here somewhere, silly Ray-Ray.”
Rayna regained her balance and pushed herself forward, darting across the walkway and through the light, making for the carriage house as fast as she could.
Remei cackled, almost doubling over with laughter as she pointed at Rayna, turning in the air as Rayna raced across the lawn. “Oh, we got you now,” and she vanished with a thought.
“Damnit,” Rayna cursed, her feet slipping on the damp grass as she reached the carriage house, passing through the wall and crashing against the carriage that was stored inside. She gasped a couple of quick breaths, feeling her lungs tightening. She shook her head, her heart racing, and stood. They would be on her any minute now. She could tell that Adrick was close by. Not only could she feel him but Remei couldn’t travel much more than a couple of blocks away from him. Adrick was fast enough he could cover that distance in just a minute or two. And the others were probably nearby as well. They knew that she was heading back to the estate, so they would have steadily been closing in on her, penning her in. Trapping her. They would be close. She had to run.
“You are strong,” her sister said, her voice soft in Rayna’s ear.
She felt the darkness closing in, the oppressive warmth of the basement pressing in on her, and she despaired for a moment. He would never let her go. She knew that now. He did not love her, he had never loved her, but neither would he let her go. She would stay down here forever, frozen in time, trapped, just like Xavi and Ricard.
“You must run,” her sister said, her voice giving her strength and snapping her back to the carriage house. Rayna snorted and took a quick drink from her canteen. She would not have another chance. She capped the canteen and stuffed it back in her pack, then pushed off from the carriage, through the doors and back out onto the street.
She had gone no more than ten feet when her legs seized and she tumbled forward, crashing hard against the smooth stones of the sidewalk. Stars erupted in front of her eyes as her head cracked against the pavers and she cried out in pain. Remei appeared above her, cackling and pointing down at her.
“I told you! I told you we’d get you!”
Rayna scowled and tried to push herself up, but found that she couldn’t move. Her arms, her legs, even her face; nothing was working the way it should. She could feel the bruises and scrapes from her fall starting to burn and, barely audible below Remei’s laughter, was the soft click-clack of women's shoes, slowly approaching.
“Rayna. Dear, gentle Rayna,” said a calm, soft voice, her pitch and diction absolutely perfect. “That was your best chase yet. You should be proud.”
Marta, Rayna thought, still struggling against her unresponsive body, her current condition suddenly making sense. Of all the Hunters she had expected to run into, Jana and Marta had been at the bottom of her list. They had probably stayed close to the estate, holding the perimeter while the stronger and faster Hunters had spread out, herding her into their trap.
Marta stepped into Rayna’s view, the delicate lace of her skirts swaying softly. She hushed Remei’s laughter with a gesture, though the shade continued to snicker softly as she drifted a few paces back, eyeing Rayna with glee. Rayna thrashed against her bonds, though not even a finger twitched. It wasn't fair, she thought, that no one had yet figured out how to punch a shade square in the nose.
Marta sighed and placed a hand on her cheek. “It pains us to see you like this, dear,” she said, taking on the tone of voice that Rayna hated most. The way she spoke to her, treating her like a child, always calling her “dear” and “sweety”... They were never cruel to her, but neither were they kind. When she first started her training they had treated her with the same indifference as always, but as she kept at it, never quitting and always improving, their indifference turned patronizing. In many ways, she preferred to be ignored, and she hated that she had once held the older girls in awe.
“You were never meant for this life, child,” Marta said, daintily crouching low to look Rayna in the eyes. She steadied herself with a parasol she held in her gloved hand. “He should have kept you in your tower, locked away like the treasure you are... no, I won’t release you yet, not until the boys arrive,” she said, probably sensing Rayna struggling against her hold.
Father’s hold on her was even stronger than Marta’s, Rayna realized, though it was far too late to do anything about it. She was stuck in the basement, held there by her own desire to be loved, to be accepted. Marta could control her body, manipulating her muscles like a puppeteer, but Father held her heart.
Marta sighed again and stood. “A shame. You’re so pretty, so delicate… you would have made a fine lady, eventually.” The sound of running feet reached their ears and Marta turned. Rayna’s heart caught in her throat and if Marta’s hold on her hadn’t been so complete she was sure that her lungs would have seized.
“Oh dear,” Marta said, not sounding concerned at all. “Adrick is here. And he doesn’t look happy. Not that I’ve ever seen him anything but angry, mind you. But still, I would not want to be in your place right now.”
No one would want to be in her place right now, she thought as her heart fluttered and her lungs cramped. The warm, stale air of the basement made it hard to be certain of anything and her body had been seized for so long that she could hardly tell one part from another. There was no body, there was no room. There was only the darkness, the loneliness, the regret and the failure. She would be with her sister soon, she knew that for a certainty. At least now, she would finally know her name.
Rayna tensed as Adrick drew close and his pace slowed. She could feel him, his presence almost overwhelming as he regarded her with undisguised hatred. She wanted nothing more than to cower within herself, to hide from his disdaining gaze and cruel fists. She never knew what she had done to make him hate her so much. Yet he did, and everything she did to try and change that had only made him despise her more.
“Like a lamb to the slaughter,” Adrick said, sidling up next to Marta. Rayna glared at him, struggling against Marta harder than before. She felt a strength well up inside of her, an urge to fight that she had never felt in her twelve long years. Marta cocked her head, her eyes opening a bit wider. Then she frowned and stared at Rayna, focusing her power. Rayna felt her muscles tighten almost to the point of cramping, and if she could have screamed she would have.
Adrick chuckled. “You have spunk, I’ll give you that. But you’ll never be a Shade Hunter.”
And she never would be. She was about to die, alone in a basement surrounded by the other failures. More than anything, it hurt her to know that Adrick had been right all along. She wasn’t strong enough. She wasn’t worthy.
Adrick crouched low, smirking. He reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. “You know, if you weren’t such a brat, you’d almost be cute,” he said, shaking his head. Then he stood, glancing up and down the street. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll stay away from the face. We wouldn’t want to get on “Father’s” bad side. Not yet.”
Rayna tensed, remembering what came next, her dreams and her present blurring together.
Marta’s hold did nothing to dull the pain as the toe of Adrick’s boot slammed into her stomach. She couldn’t even gasp as Adrick kicked her again and again while Remei laughed. Marta watched with a look that Rayna couldn’t decipher.
She remembered the courtyard and Master Jan. He was supposed to be waiting for them, waiting for her to come back with the satchel. She remembered it perfectly. The smooth stone pavers of the training grounds, the high walls that were warded to keep her inside and the benches that lined those walls. The training grounds were kept immaculately clean, but there were always a few little weeds springing up around the edges, forcing their way through the cracks in the pavers. That was how she felt now; like a little weed struggling against the world itself. She didn’t belong, she didn’t fit into the neat and tidy designs of the strong and powerful. She was like a weed: stubborn and determined and hard to ignore, but never meant to be a part of the grand design. And so she focused on that weed - the one that had poked her on her first day of training - and willed it to take her away, to break her free. To push through and endure.
Marta put a hand to her cheek again and sighed. “A shame, indeed,” she said, shaking her head. Adrick stopped kicking her and crouched down again, pulling his knife out from where he kept it sheathed at the small of his back.
“A momento, something for you to consider the next time you think you’re one of us,” he said softly, pulling up her sleeve and pressing the edge of his knife against the back of her forearm.
Rayna thought about that weed, that day so long ago and yet so near. Persistent things, weeds. They were despised, crushed, burned and destroyed. No one wanted them yet they were impossible to ignore, and they always returned, stronger and more determined than before.
“I am the weed,” Rayna said, gritting her teeth against Marta’s power. Adrick hesitated, his knife still biting into her arm. Despite the darkness Rayna could see beads of sweat forming on Marta’s forehead.
She closed her eyes for the last time and thought about the only place she had ever known as home, the one place she had felt strong and powerful and safe. She thought of Father and of Master Jan and of the courtyard where, if only for a few short years, she had belonged. Her breath left her in a slow, final sigh.
Home beckoned, and she Jumped.
End of Chapter Seven