Rhistmaege

Window Pain

Sleep squirmed from Dovi like greased pigs at Spring Festival. His first night in a feather bed was a big letdown. Despite his protestations, Rabby and Mr. Maggutton had insisted he take Rabby's room, while his friend bunked in the storage room on the first floor.

Dovi's mind raced with scenario after scenario - each concluding a horrific ending. Dovinicus MaCabre, the Pawn Rhistmaege to the Crown. Maybe he could slip away?

He crawled out of bed and tiptoed to the window, carefully avoiding the squeakiest floorboards. He surveyed the moonlit yard for some sign of the Crown's four sentries. He saw nothing. Heard nothing. He leaned outside and tried to peer around the corner of the roof.

Blackness blurred past Dovi and bounded into Rabby's room. He stumbled and backpedaled away, hit his calf on the edge of the bed and cartwheeled back into the bed's covers. He scrambled back up, breath caught in his throat. Gussie stood before him, in Rhistmaege form. She held a finger to her lips, urging him for silence. They both remained still, listening for activity from the first floor. Everything seemed quiet. Dovi's inner voice told him to shout for help, but he quickly suppressed it. Maybe she could help get me out of this?

"Arendal Tapor," whispered Gussie. A small flame sparked to life in hands cupped before her chest, illuminating a ghostly face and brilliant red lips. She looked different this night, more graceful, more alluring, yet more cunning as well. She glided across the room and sat down beside him- very close beside him.

One hand held the amber light to Dovi's face. The other caressed his cheek. "I heard about your mother. I'm sorry Dovi. Losing a mother is like losing a part of your soul. I'm here for you," she purred.

Dovi felt a rushing intoxication as her hand slipped away from his face. The hollow in his chest grew smaller and a tingling numbness played across his fingers and toes.

"What was? What did you do to me?" he asked sluggishly.

"Hraedeen," she said in a barely audible voice. She pulled him close for a long moment, then eased him back on the bed.

Dovi blinked and rubbed at the inner corner of his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to untangle you from your web. Whispers on the wind tell me Belesarum Blackenroot himself, Rhistlock's high commander, will be here tomorrow. He's to take you back to Miidvallen. The Crown will place a noose around your neck."

"How do you know? And why are you trying to help me?"

She laughed in a delightful and delectable way while curling long black hair around her fingers. "I am a Rhistmaege or did you forget so quickly?"

"So why are you here?"

"Denial will only get you so far. I know you can feel it in your bones. You feel off, don't you? Different from others? You don't exactly fit. Remember the irregularity you share with Ruenwall. Your mind is trying to protect you. It doesn't want to relinquish the power, no matter how miserable your existence." Dovi winced at the word miserable. "Yes, I said miserable. You can't deny it, Dovi. You hate what your life has become. You hate who you are. I can help turn things around for you. All you have to do, is trust me."

Dovi tried to slow his racing mind. What do I do? What feels right?

"Trust bites me every time I offer it. Why would this be different? You're not here out of the kindness of your heart. What's in it for you? Why shouldn't I just go to Miidvallen?"

Gussie closed her eyes for a short moment.

Dovi cringed inwardly at her look of annoyance. You're doubting a bloody Rhistmaege you fool!