Path Of The Broken

16. Emotions-1

16

Emotions

Jess stalked down the wide hallways and checked out many of the rooms in the sprawling estate that Damien called home, yet she could not find her host and mentor anywhere. Looking with her mind’s eye, as she’d learned to do, did nothing to help either. Not that it necessarily would, since her encounter with Isabella had showed her that the Elder could shield themselves remarkably well. All that remained to her was walking and searching. As fascinating as the exploration had been, she now found it a little disconcerting to be rattling around in the estate by herself. Not even the local villagers who normally came to help around the estate were in attendance today.

Jess wandered through the empty hallways, finding herself standing at the large arched window, her favourite viewing platform, yet today it failed to settle her agitation and frustration. She laughed, the sound echoing around the room. She was bored. It was a rather perplexing position to be in, and quite unfamiliar to her, to be honest.

In her old life, even trailing along in Elizabeth’s entourage, while boring, had at least served a purpose. She could content herself with being on guard for a threat. Right now she would even jump at the opportunity to listen to the inane, mindless chatter of the other ladies.

She gazed down at the village below. Jess frowned at the atypical bustling, wondering what was going on. Then she spotted movement on the road and some tents going up in a large common area towards the centre. As she absently contemplated the scene below, a smile lit her features. The village was hosting a market and it looked like people from other villages were attending.

Jess spun and, lifting her skirts, she ran back towards her rooms. She yanked open the double doors to her wardrobe and scanned the racks of clothes hanging within. A long dark blue cloak caught her attention, hanging to one side with intricate woven designs in silver thread around the borders. She grabbed it off the hook and threw it around her shoulders, fastening the three ornamental clasps at the top. Jess turned to look in the mirror, nodding at her appearance. She’d noticed that while her wardrobe of clothes here had steadily multiplied, there were no hunting clothes. Even her original set she’d arrived in had disappeared. Clara only ever smiled at her and ignored her questions about where they were. Even Damien would only smile, observing she was unlikely to see them until she left, and would then change the subject. She’d given in and stopped asking about them. The last time, Damien had shaken his head at her suggestion he fetch some from her rooms back at the palace. He’d shrugged, saying that while he was capable of doing so, it was likely they would just disappear again. That had prompted a lesson on Ilarith and the locals, and he’d explained that it had nothing to do with her being a woman. Rather, it was what they deemed to be appropriate attire for the Elder. For her to be wandering around in trousers like a commoner was inappropriate by local customs. He’d raised his hands in defence at her outrage, informing her it wasn’t his view. It was, however, the locals’ view.

She’d even gone through her wardrobe looking for plainer dresses. That search had been in vain. Even walking into a high court ball, she would be perfectly attired wearing anything in her current wardrobe.

Pulling the large lined hood up onto her head, Jess smiled, although her face remained hidden in the depths of the hood. If she understood correctly, the locals would know by her attire that she numbered among the ranks of the Kin and Elder. Hopefully they wouldn’t know exactly who she was, though. Then again, she’d gathered by now that there were not as many Kin and Elder as she had previously imagined.

When she had asked about this, Damien had smiled a little and observed that long life wasn’t suited to everyone and that human nature didn’t change because one had great power. When she’d looked at him, a little perplexed, he’d told her blandly that they fought amongst themselves. He’d then reassured her that they were unlikely to test her, since she was under his protection. Jess couldn’t decide whether that was arrogance on his part or whether Damien was as powerful as he thought he was. It was very hard to tell. Still, she figured that was in part why her weapons, at least, had not disappeared.

She’d spent considerable time after that checking out her surroundings with a defensive eye. Damien had caught her at it and raised an amused eyebrow, but hadn’t told her to desist. Which was just as well, since that was an injunction she wouldn’t have followed.

Shrugging off her introspection, Jess grinned. She could explore the village, and was surprised that the idea hadn’t occurred to her before now. Then again, she’d been kept busy training, always either trying to perfect what Damien had taught her or throwing herself into new lessons.

Jess pulled the veil around her and moved towards the village below. Damien had spent considerable time, drilling her on moving safely through the veil. She’d understood her uncle’s original injunction against appearing inside the walls of places she didn’t know. Now, though, it didn't apply. The increase in her strength came with some advantages. Now appearing where she wanted—unless there was a shield to prevent her—was no hindrance. Still old habits held and she moved herself to a cobbled street after checking no one was standing there just as she’d been trained.

Keeping the folds of the veil around her to obscure her from the untalented eye, Jess looked around as she ghosted though the town, not bringing any notice to herself. The village looked like any number of prosperous villages from home, although she had to admit she’d never lived in one, not even before she’d gone to the palace as a child. Her family’s estates had been in a remote setting, yet while nothing compared to the luxury of the palace, it had still been opulent in its own way.

Jess grinned at the children that raced past in a game of tag, as carefully she danced out of the way before chuckling to herself. They may not see her without talent themselves, but they could still run into her. She wasn’t ready to make her presence known yet.

The cobbles in the street were well maintained with no sign that they were deteriorating or neglected. Flowers lined the windowsills of the single-storey houses, all nestled up close to each other, with herb and vegetable patches out front. She already knew the livestock were kept on the outskirts of the village. Clara had explained to her they were communal and tended to by the village. The children held the duty to care for the animals in the morning, under the supervision of some of the adults.

The hubbub of noise, laughter, excitement, calling and cheering alerted her she was drawing close to the centre of the village and the market. Hugging close to the wall of what she guessed was the local inn, Jess gave herself a moment to take in the sights and sounds of the bustling excitement of the market. Unlike the inns that she was used to, this one was a small single-storey stone building with a storage shed attached at the back. The building contained a kitchen and tap room just big enough for a few wooden stools along the bar. Instead of being inside, the tables from the inn were spilling out onto the cobblestones in front of the premises, with flaring tarps held up on poles to protect those frequenting the establishment from the elements. At the moment it was a beautiful afternoon without a cloud to mar the blue sky, yet she’d been here long enough to know the clouds could boil up quickly between one moment and the next. Still, she spied extra tarps and screens piled up nearby, and knew it was a circumstance that the locals were well equipped to deal with.

Beyond the inn a raised stage hosted some boisterous musicians who had struck up a popular tune. Adults and children alike danced in groups, bouncing and twirling around energetically in a series of concentric rings in time to the beat. On the other side of the large open commons, they had set stalls up to sell everything one could imagine—bolts of fabric, leather goods, shoes, kitchenware and children's toys. The variety spreading out and taking over that entire corner made her smile. She wondered if they had brought the goods up for trade from one of their regular trade runs to the world outside.

Her gaze tracked to the middle, and sprawling out in the centre were a series of food stalls, some with smoke and steam spilling up into the air. The smells wafting in her direction were mouth-watering.

Jess dropped her concealment and walked out into the bustling market, almost holding her breath as she wondered how the villagers would react. She would hardly blend in, which she would have preferred. Her gown and even the cloak would stand out. She guessed that was the idea.

Jess smiled within the depths of her hood, knowing none could see it. There were some startled glances thrown her way by the locals, although none sought to hinder her. If anything, they cleared out of her way as soon as they noticed her approach, even though not appearing particularly fearful. Some seemed curious, yet left her be.

Jess wandered around the stalls, almost wishing she had money since it would be nice to buy a few small things. She hadn’t thought about asking Damien for any. It hadn’t occurred to her before now. Back at the palace her money pouch had always been full, seen to by the servants at the orders of her aunt and uncle, she guessed, and then out of the royal coffers when she became a Companion of the Fourth. Still, she was content to look at the wares the traders had on offer and spent what seemed like hours weaving between the close-packed stalls.

She stopped at one stall with fabric. While she was not a clothes horse, some bolts were stunning and drew her eye. Bolts of silk and lace, all of them incredibly fine, dazzled her, and she trailed her fingers along a corner, appreciative of a bolt of patterned blue with white lace. It would make a beautiful dress. Then she paused, aware of the hush that had fallen over the market; like a wave, the once boisterous marketplace silenced. Jess turned, wondering what had happened, and made her way between the stalls. She noticed adults pulling children back, hiding them behind tarps and crates, anything they could find nearby. The sound of childish glee startled her, loud in the eerie quiet of the market. She spun to see a small child running, a panicked-looking woman chasing after him. The child thought it was a wonderful game. Stepping to one side, Jess scooped up the boy as he tried to run past her, passing him off to the worried mother, who bowed before running back between the stalls, hushing the child.

Then Jess sensed what she’d missed. Another with power had arrived, one that the locals didn’t seem happy to see. That seemed odd, since none of them had paid her much mind at all. She was certain they had a good idea of exactly who she was, even though it was the first time she’d appeared in the village.

She had just arrived at the edge of the stalls to see a Kin, near the inn, that was the object of everyone's attention.

A middle-aged man stood up from a table out in front of the inn and walked across the square towards the man before stopping.

“You should know this village is under the protection of Elder Damien.”

The interloper laughed, an ugly bark. “Your bluster is useless, he’s not around right now.”

The smile on the face of the spokesman of the village faltered. “You are welcome as long as you’re not here to cause harm. Elder Damien will be displeased if you are here to cause trouble.”

The man casually pulled in power and with an audible grunt lifted the spokesman into the air, with his feet dangling just above the ground.

“He’s not here now and the likes of you can’t stop me, little man. You don’t have the power.” His voice was oily, a sneer marring his features. “He’s taken in a stray, and I want him. He’s here somewhere, I sensed it when the whelp made the mistake of leaving the safety of the shields around the estate.”

The spokesman compressed his lips and looked steadily at the man, although Jess guessed he knew full well she was here.

“Please, just take whatever you wish and leave—” His voice cut off, his hands clawing at his throat as if he were being choked by invisible hands.

Jess’s eyes narrowed, and she walked forward, drawing power to her as she did so. She punched it forward as Damien had taught her and smiled as the other grunted and stumbled. It had the desired effect of him losing his hold on the spokesman, who looked at her wide-eyed as he lay sprawled on the ground. As the Elder spun towards her, two other villagers ran from the inn and helped the shaken spokesman back to the rudimentary safety of the inn.

“Enough, leave the villagers be.” Jess concentrated on drawing more power to her, closing the gap between her and the man who had inexplicably come for her. “What do you want with me?”

Jess could feel the other’s momentary shock at her appearance, then with only a split second warning, she felt him launch an assault in her direction. She deflected the blow and followed up with one of her own, grateful for the hours she’d spent on her shield work with Damien. Taking that as the stranger’s answer, Jess wasted no time at all closing the distance between them. Using the veil to push herself forward, she raised her hand, deflecting yet another hammering blow from the man, and drew her sword. She threw a splash of fire at him and he flinched and raised his own hand in reflex to deflect. Without pause she lunged, plunging her sword into the man's abdomen. She knew it wasn’t a killing blow, but he reeled in shock, clutching at his stomach. He gathered his power, and she knew he was about to flee into the veiled paths. Jess's eyes narrowed.

The power around her surged, the real world fading as if she was between both worlds. The channels of power filled her, sudden euphoria hit with flickers of raw white power. Bathed in power, she didn’t want to let it go; looking at her attacker, she saw him pale as he glanced her. She grabbed hold of the man with the power of the veil, wrenching him back into the real world and slamming him onto the cobbled ground, his breath expelled from his lungs in a pained grunt.

Jess strode forward, closing the distance between them. Reversing her blade, she slammed the hilt into his skull. His head snapped sideways with a crack, banging into the cobbled street. She looked at him dispassionately, watching as the blood splattered out and pooled on the cobbles, realising she’d perhaps hit him on the head a little harder than she’d intended.

Jess looked up at the frozen villagers, then concentrated to call out into the veil.

Damien, damn it, come back. I need you. She paused, not hearing a hint of a reply, and swore explosively. Isabella! I need your help. A man attacked the village, he came for me in Damien’s absence.

The response this time was much more prompt. Jess felt the rush in the veil that indicated that someone was incoming. She had a moment to hope it was Isabella and not another who might want to kill her. There was no doubt that was what the man had intended, though his attempt had been clumsy.

She stood, drawing power, her sword raised and ready to strike, yet hoping that it wasn’t someone intending her harm. Jess staggered off balance as something unexpected hit her from behind. Sword raised, she spun, blade following her movement as she swung to where she sensed someone behind her. She felt power not her own wrap around her and stood frozen in its grip. Instant panic hit her, and she started to struggle only to find herself spun around and Isabella’s hand grasping her shoulders, shaking her.

“Jess, snap out of it! It was only a child running into you. He’s no threat.”

Jess turned her head and saw the small boy not far from her who stood frozen in fear, his eyes wide, with a thin trail of blood trailing down his neck from her sword. She sagged with relief as Isabella finally released her.