The Memory of Darkness (on hold until October)

22 - Bleak Fire

Arianna returned to her room, unsure of how long she had been in the chapel. Her legs were stiff from kneeling and her stomach growled with hunger. A growing ache in her lower abdomen proved that no matter how bad life seemed, there was always the potential for it to be even worse, even if just for a few days.

She closed the door, relieved that he wasn't waiting for her, though she realised that something was different. A new wooden chest stood against one wall, alongside the one that held her rather old-fashioned selection of dresses. She opened the lid to find a selection of exquisite gowns, all of which she recognised from her collection at Kyrvell.

With a sigh, she lifted up one of the dresses; scarlet and black velvet and silk, the sleeves and bodice laced with silver threads.

"I'd wager you'd look breathtaking in that," said Lorcan, now sat on the edge of the bed, watching her intently.

Arianna flinched with shock, the dress tumbling back into the chest. "I told you not to come in here uninvited," she snapped. "You agreed."

"Did I?" said Lorcan, with an absent-minded shrug. "That doesn't sound like me."

"I see you've been back to Kyrvell," said Arianna, irritated by his insolence.

He nodded. "I thought you might like some of your own possessions."

"They're not really mine," she replied. "They belong to my family, rather than me specifically. I expect that they'll be given to one of my brothers' brides, if they ever manage to negotiate these things. Anton will have to remarry at some point." She paused, frowning. Was she truly so starved of conversation that she would discuss such matters with him?

"He'd best make it quick," said Lorcan, with a bitter chuckle.

"Why?" she asked.

"Just... no reason," he said, awkwardly, fidgeting like a nervous child caught telling lies. "Just... negotiations and such. They can take years."

"They can," she agreed, a dark shadow of doubt growing inside her. "Though why does he need to hurry? Is he in danger? You know something, don't you?"

"Forget I spoke," he said, clearly unsettled. "It was a foolish comment." He turned to her with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Shall we do something interesting?"

"No," she said. "I don't want to do anything-."

He took hold of her arm, and her eyes were filled with the familiar but unpleasant white light. A cool breeze made her shiver, telling her that they were outdoors before she could see anything.

Her vision returned far quicker than it had in the past, and she saw that they were stood on a rough, muddy trackway that led between two fenced-off fields, both littered with rocks of varying sizes. A half-moon lit the cloudless sky revealing a small town or village, the walls squat and visibly in need of repair.

Arianna folded her arms against the chill. "Even when you let me out of that bloody castle, it's dark." The realisation struck her. They were out of the castle. Where they now where, or why, didn't seem important.

Do something, you idiot.

She stepped away from him, raising her hand, preparing to unleash a jet of flame. Nothing happened.

Do it. It won't kill him, but it'll hurt, and it might slow him down for long enough to reach the church in the town. Surely there'll be a church in the town. Do it...

It won't kill him. I don't want to kill him. I don't want it to hurt.

He stepped forward, taking hold of her hand. "It's not nice to set people on fire, my sweet Princess."