Fourteen

Sext, Eighth Day Before Kalends of May

Guest Chambers, Greghorn Castle (Anselm Family Residence), Tarrin, Drum

Kate Rinehart was sitting in a chair facing a window looking out north, towards the rolling hills, towards Bahim.

Though Kate Rinehart’s Body was sitting perfectly still, her Mind was a maelstrom, one hasty emotion collapsing against the other, thoughts too fleeting to be captured in words. She was thinking about Logan. She was thinking about how the men looked at him. She was thinking about how Hazel looked at him. She was thinking about the way her voice quivered when she told Jerome that Logan wants nothing to do with the revolution, the way her furrows deepened. And she was thinking about the way she had Logan pinned outside his sthrul. She had defeated him! Why was Hazel so concerned about Logan?

Logan Floyd would be here in two days, in this very castle. Hazel had given Kate explicit orders to stay away from the castle when this happened. After Kate herself had prepared the scene piece by piece, enter Logan and he was now the hero of this tale.

Oh, she could not bear it any longer. She stood up and opened the window with a push of Connexion. She was just about to clamber out the window and fly out into her freedom when a small voice called out from the doorstep, “Kate?”

She turned to look. It was Jack Anselm. He was alone.

“Hullo,” said Kate.

“Where were you, for the past few days?”

“In Bahim. Doing something for the Councillor.”

“Oh.”

Then silence.

“What is it, Jack?”

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Jack did not answer. Without even consciously Sensing Jack’s Mind, Kate could Sense a terrible sorrow. She walked over to Jack, pulled him gently into the room, cast a quick glance at the hallway and, seeing no one, closed the door. She pulled Jack into an embrace.

“Do you want to show me?” she said.

“Show you?”

“Yes,” said Kate. “Transcend my Mind.”

“I do not know how.”

Kate knelt down so that she was eye level with Jack. She took Jack’s hand and placed it on her forehead.

“Show me,” said Kate.

And so Jack did.

Kate saw the hallways of Greghorn Castle from Jack’s viewpoint. He was standing in front of a door. The door was tall, too tall, and slightly ajar. Jack peered inside. Lord Greghorn and Lady Greghorn were having a row of some sort, but Jack did not understand what they were arguing about. Jack had in his hands a drawing. It was of him, his older brother who had died, his father and his mother. Jack pushed forward with a bout of courage and entered the room.

“Father”, he said.

Lord Greghorn paused and looked down at his son.

“Jack,” he said. “What are you doing?”

Jack was too afraid to speak and silently showed his parents his drawing. Out of the corner of his vision, Jack could see Lady Greghorn smiling, but she said nothing. Lord Greghorn perused the drawing without taking it from Jack’s hands. Then he said, “You are the sole heir of the Greghorn family. You understand what that means, do you not?”

And terror, sheer terror, clouded this memory and Jack broke away from Transcending Kate’s Mind.

“Oh,” said Kate, holding Jack tight in her arms. “Poor thing.”

Kate could feel Jack’s shoulders racking as he tried to hold back his tears and realised that despite all that was happening, despite the glory that the Anselm family wished Jack would bring, despite Hazel’s plan, despite the war he would probably begin, Jack Anselm was still a child.

“Oh child,” said Kate. “They want so much from you.”

But after a few minutes Jack was able to dispel his tears and push away from Kate’s embrace.

“It is nothing,” he said.

His cheeks were crimson red. Kate smiled.

“Let us go outside,” said Kate.

Above the Southern Towers at Greghorn Castle (Anselm Family Residence), Tarrin, Drum

And the two were in the air. Kate spun, swooped, and ducked under Jack as he flailed his arms helplessly.

“Place your trust in me,” said Kate. “I am holding you.”

Kate took Jack by the hand and they soared towards the sun.

“Oh!” cried Jack.

And then he was laughing. His laughter, though muffled by the wind, was bright and beautiful. He let go of Kate’s hand. He was flying.

“Oh!” cried Jack again.

Yes, Kate thought. Jack Anselm was still a child.