Kennan gasps, and the next thing I feel is the biting squeeze of her nails clawing into the soft flesh of my neck, jerking me back. I scream as I stagger and fall to my knees.
But the crack of thunder is loud above me. It continues to grow as the segment of rock I was standing under crashes down into the exact spot where I’d been standing, obstructing the water’s original path.
I gape in terror as I scramble away and the water rolls down both sides of the rock, changing its course, splashing over my feet.
I did it.
At least, I think.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Kennan’s enraged face breaks my trance. Her cheeks are inflamed, and she’s wiping something from her hands. Is that my blood? “You stupid, reckless—”
“But I did it.” I make no move to get up from the wet ground. Instead, I relish it, allowing the cool water to soothe the pain in my temples. A laugh emerges as I continue to look up at the gaping hole the rock left. “I … I did it!”
“Almost killing yourself in the process.” The rage in her voice startles me. “You must learn to control yourself. If you can’t control yourself, you can’t hope to control anything else.” She points to the waterfall. “The objective was not to cause a collapse of the corridor. It was to focus on the water.”
“Well, doing it your way wasn’t working.” I hold her gaze and stand, feeling brave. Within Kennan’s rage is something else, something akin to fear. I dig into it. “Perhaps a new way of thinking is needed around here.”
In a breath, Kennan is on me, her clawlike fingers reaching for me, ready to tear out my traitorous tongue. I flinch, readying myself for her reprisal.
The sound of deliberate clapping breaks through our tension and forces Kennan to freeze, her hands centimeters from my neck.
Someone is … applauding?
A figure steps out from the shadows of the cavern.
Cathal.
“Bravo, Shae.” He smiles at me. “I am suitably impressed.”
Kennan silently curls in on herself as she retracts her hands and bows. Cathal acknowledges her with a scowl. I slump to my knees, too fatigued to stand upright.
Cathal appraises the scene in front of us. His elegant clothes and sharp eyes shimmer in the light.
“I thank you, Kennan, for your time,” he says, “but I believe your services are no longer required.”
Kennan moves to argue, but Cathal takes a step forward, his attention fully on me. “Now, if you would be so kind, I would like to have a word with my newest Bard in private.”
17
He knows. He knows I snuck into Niall’s quarters.
And he heard I’m failing my Bard training. He realizes this has been a terrible mistake. He finally sees the truth—I’m not gifted, but cursed—and I’m going to pay for it. I’ll be thrown out, or made an example of.
He’ll reconsider having me executed.
I can’t stop shaking. I rub my arms, trying to keep calm as I follow Cathal. The castle seems busier the farther we walk, with servants and guards rushing to and fro. They all glance nervously at Cathal as he passes, as though worried he’s there to assess their work. Clearly, I am not the only one on edge.
Cathal only slows his stride when a chamberlain falls in step with us, wringing his hands as he speaks. From a few steps behind, I can hear their conversation, but that doesn’t seem to bother Cathal. His calm demeanor doesn’t falter even for a moment, as usual.
“It’s simply dreadful, Lordship.” The chamberlain is nearly frantic. “In all my years, I’ve never seen a gallery so dusty!”
“I am sure it is an absolute tragedy. I am more interested in our security issue, however,” Cathal replies. “The report I was given mentioned our guards would be insufficient.”
“For retinues as large as Ambassador Richter’s and the archbishop’s, yes,” the chamberlain replies, growing more flustered, if even possible. “We simply do not have enough security present for a fête of this size!”
“Requisition forces from outside,” Cathal states. “The usual candidates ought to suffice.”
The chamberlain bows with a dramatic flourish before departing. Cathal glances over his shoulder at me with his customary disarming smile.
“The trials and tribulations of throwing a ball for foreign dignitaries.” He chuckles. For a moment, I forget the possibility that I’m in huge trouble.
We arrive at our destination far too quickly, and my apprehension from before crashes over me in a wave. High House has a way of expanding and contracting, or maybe my nervousness is making time rush forward. Well before I’m ready, a massive door is opening in front of us.
“Please make yourself comfortable.” Cathal gestures with a flourish as I step inside a different sitting room than last time. The ceiling is an intricate glass dome that seems to beckon golden sunlight into the room. Elegant hothouse orchids, strategically placed around chaise longues, complete the illusion that we’re sitting outdoors.
My eyes dart around, attempting to figure out where we are while trying not to be distracted by the splendor.
“Thank you.” I bite my lip slightly and gratefully sink onto one of the cushions. It’s so soft, I want to melt into it. The clouds have assumed a pink hue through the dome above. I must have been trying to part the waterfall the entire day.
“First things first,” he says. “I have a very important question for you, Shae, if you will indulge me.” Cathal gracefully seats himself across from me, a serious look in his eyes. I stiffen, bracing myself for the inevitable. You are a disappointment, Shae. A fake. “Do you like olives?” he asks. There’s a tiny smile playing at his lips.
I am so startled, I’m pretty certain my jaw nearly falls off its hinges. “I’m not sure I’ve had any,” I reply awkwardly.
“We will have to change that,” he says. I shiver slightly, unsure how to feel right now. Am I in trouble or not? “Do you have a favorite food? I can have it sent for. You must be hungry.”
“Famished,” I correct him with a slight grimace, which broadens his smile.
“Do not be shy asking for anything you want. It is my honor to provide it,” Cathal says. “Duck, perhaps? Moose cheese? Both?”
“Both?”
“Both it is.” He claps his hands twice and another servant hiding nearby scurries away. He grins boyishly at me. “I know you are humoring me, Shae. I appreciate it.”
“Well, now I’m curious about this moose cheese,” I admit.
“Curiosity and a sense of humor?” Cathal laughs. “Rare traits in a Bard. Hang on to those.”
My eyebrows shoot up. Ravod said the opposite. I bite my tongue to keep from asking why. Ravod also told me to be careful around Cathal, but I’m beginning to wonder about that too. Cathal’s company is the most reassuring in this whole place.
“My lord, why did you ask me here?” I blurt out. I don’t know if I mean right this minute, or the bigger question of why he put his faith in me at all, thinking I, of all people, could be a Bard.
A servant appears with a tray heaped with smooth brown almonds, shiny olives, moist cheeses, colorful fruit, and all sorts of delicacies I’ve never eaten. He bows as he places the tray before us and then leaves.