Chapter Thirty-Three

Marcelin paced around her outer chamber, waiting for the knock on her door, and when it sounded, so soft she almost missed it, she hurried to let Eliot in.

When she’d returned from Mariosha with the girls, he’d quietly let her know that he needed to talk privately with her.

“You must be tired,” Eliot said as he sat opposite her by the banked fire.

“I am. The girls certainly are. Did you see Lina at the table? I thought she was going to fall asleep on her plate.” Marcelin chuckled. “I hadn’t planned on staying out so long, but they were enjoying themselves so much, I didn’t have the heart to spoil their fun.”

“Lina seems more at ease, more like her happy self again.”

“Almost. The closer we got to home, the quieter she became. But I don’t doubt she’ll be back to normal soon. It helps not having, him in the house. Easier to pretend he’s not here at all. Now, I understand Mother had a mysterious visitor.” She smiled at her son’s obvious surprise. “Perrin told me.”

“Ah, of course.” Eliot paused, his head to one side. “I wonder if he saw what the visitor looked like. I only saw him at a distance. The way he walked, Renard mistook him for a woman.”

“Well, Perrin did see him.”

Eliot leaned forward. “What did he look like?”

“So pale Perrin said he could have been a ghost. And his eyes, you know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Perrin look unsettled, but the man’s eyes were so light, he thought the man blind.” Marcelin’s gaze lost focus as if trying to recall an elusive memory. “I’ve been thinking all evening, after Perrin told me, that description reminded me of someone. I remember, years ago, a pale man at court. No one had ever seen anyone like him.”

“That might that have been Tulash’s master.”

Marcelin raised her brows. “Tulash? How do you know his name?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Eliot said, “I-I, well, I–”

“You eavesdropped?”

With an elaborate shrug, he nodded.

“Eliot.” Marcelin knew her tone was at odds with her amused expression. “Tell me, then. What did they speak of?”

Grinning, Eliot started by noting he’d never heard Tulash’s accent before, then recounted what he’d overheard. When he mentioned Kashar, Marcelin exclaimed.

“Yes. That was the pale man’s name, I remember now. Many at court thought him mad.”

“Climence said he had some outlandish ideas. But Tulash wouldn’t let her mention them.”

“They were. He spoke often of the possibility of changing things, turning one thing into another, something like that.”

“You mean–”

“Changing one creature into another,” she said with a shudder.

Eliot grimaced. “Why?”

“I cannot begin to imagine the reason, and I do not wish to. It’s wicked, believing one can interfere with the natural order. What else did they speak of?”

As Eliot continued, Marcelin’s frown deepened, until he spoke of the plan Climence had concocted with Kashar’s help.

“I didn’t know Mother knew him that well,” she said softly, an inexplicable chill enveloping her. “To give him money. What was the plan?”

“She wouldn’t let Tulash mention it,” said Eliot. “Said it had been a trivial thing. But she sounded, she sounded scared when Garlon asked about it.”

Neither spoke for some moments.

“Mother didn’t say anything about it at all?” When he remained silent, his gaze on the floor, Marcelin leaned forward. “Eliot?”

Clearly uncomfortable, Eliot swallowed a couple of times before replying. “Tulash wants the cat, but she won’t let him have it unless he lets her see Kashar’s journals. He threatened to speak of her plan and.” He met his mother’s gaze. “Whatever her plan was, I don’t think it was trivial. She said she’d kill the cat if he mentioned her plan to anyone.”

Marcelin jerked upright.

“She wanted to know why the cat was so important to him, if it had anything to do with Kashar’s experiment.” Eliot continued with Tulash’s explanation, finishing with the scorn he and his master had faced from their own people. “Do you think, maybe Kashar changed something, someone into the–”

“No.” Marcelin put her hand out. “Don’t say it. He couldn’t have done. Such things aren’t possible, they can’t be. I can’t bear it, it’s too awful to even think about. Tulash’s explanation, that makes more sense.” She took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

A sudden thought jerked her body upright. Climence’s plan that she’d refused to talk about, had it involved Ruvane? If Marcelin wasn’t mistaken, his death happened while Kashar was still at court. As she tried to remember how many years ago that had been, her shoulders sagged as a dizziness came over her.

“Mother, what’s wrong?” Eliot had slipped off his chair to kneel before her.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.”

“No, you look shocked, something frightened–”

“It-it’s this talk of meddling with the natural order,” she said, her voice trembling. “It’s unsettling.” She placed her hand on his cheek. “I’m fine, my dear, sit back on the chair. Please.” Aware he remained unconvinced by her weak explanation, she urged him again to get back on the chair.

As for herself, she squashed the thought down. It was too awful to entertain the suspicion that her own mother might have plotted against Ruvane. And it was too serious an accusation to even think, never mind speak out loud. Then she remembered Climence’s shocked reaction when the guard had brought news of Ruvane’s death; her horrified expression, her trembling body didn’t imply any pretence. No, whatever Climence had planned with Kashar, it had nothing to do with Ruvane.

Marcelin’s gaze drifted to the glowing coals.

“What are you thinking?” said Eliot, his tone clearly echoing the concern he still felt.

“The things you heard Mother say, it’s as if I don’t know who she is, I don’t recognise my mother in any of the things she said.”

Eliot covered her hands with his. “I’m sorry, Mother. I shouldn’t have said–”

“No, no. I’m glad you did.” Despite her attempt to reassure him, the constant fluttering in her belly betrayed her lingering unease. “I wish I’d been here, then I could question Mother directly. But saying anything will only get Perrin in trouble.” Sitting back in her chair, she met his anxious gaze. “It feels as if there’s something in our lives we’ve not been aware of, something hidden.”

“You think our family might have a secret? Surely family secrets only happen in aristocratic families, or in tales.”

Seeing Eliot’s attempt at a smile fail, she knew what needed to be done. “I want to be finished with this whole affair. The cat must be returned, the harp and dagger also.” Marcelin fixed him with a direct stare. “You must take them back.”

Eliot jerked upright. “Me?”

“Believe me, I’d rather someone else do it. But you’re the only one the cat will allow near.”

“You’re right. As the man of the family, it’s my duty to put things right. I hope the tall-folk is the sort to speak first before reacting,” he finished with a rueful smile.

Marcelin trapped his hand in hers. “Don’t even joke about this. It’s hard enough sending you into possible danger.”

“I’ll be careful, Mother, I promise. Who knows? The cat might put in a good word for me.”

She managed a smile. “We can prepare tomorrow when Mother leaves to meet Deandra. And you can leave the day after that. Early, before she wakes.”

Eliot nodded then lowered his gaze, his smile fading.

“What is it?” said Marcelin.

“I know what I have to do, but I don’t want to leave you and Lina.”

“I know. This business with Tulash, stealing from the tall-folk, knowing Mother is harbouring some secret, there’s a limit, Eliot, and she’s gone beyond it. I’ll write to Uncle Leighton tomorrow and when you return, we’ll leave Deverell and move to Vernell. And nothing Mother says or does will stop me.”