Aurelie woke up to the sound of hammering coming from the kitchen. She wiped her eyes and yawned. Peter was hardly ever at home while she was awake. He left in the early hours of the morning and came back long after Aurelie was tucked into bed. Sometimes he remained in his bedroom the whole day and kept so quiet up there that she didn't know he was there unless he dropped something.
He left breakfast on the dining table every morning. Aurelie wasn't sure whether it was because he didn't want her to starve or to snoop around in his house. Naturally, she leaned more toward the latter.
Today, instead of an apple and some biscuits there was a plate of what looked like scrambled eggs, bread, and even a steaming drink. She wondered what made today so different and thought about asking, but then thought to give him his space instead.
She turned to Kirin, and her heart skipped a beat. He was turned on his side. Could he haveâ Peter must have moved him. Three weeks she had been stuck there. Waiting and hoping that he would stir. When he told her about his father's first attempt at transporting the Dragon King, he mentioned that he was in pain. They had to nurse him back to health but he was awakeâscreaming and cursingâand able to tell them where the problem was.
Aurelie was relieved that Kirin was not suffering but, on the other hand, if he could just wake up for a moment and tell her where it hurt or what to do, she would have been able to take some action. She would turn Redayrah upside down, gather all the healers, and release chaos upon those who refused to help them. This deadly stillness, she could do nothing about, and it was killing her right along with him.
He had grown thin, and pale. Aurelie walked to his couch and lowered onto her knees. She traced her fingers over his mouth, and up to his eyes, feeling his lids and lashes. Then she closed her eyes and started over. Tears ran down her cheeks. She wanted to remember every part of his face. In case... Aurelie shook her head and swallowed the clot that had formed in her throat.
Her hands continued to trace his features. From the corners of his lips to the cut that had formed on his left cheek. She lowered her chin to his neck and kissed it. A tear rolled down and dropped onto his neck.
Aurelie wanted to hear the beating of his heart. If this was it for him, she wanted to have a memory of the rhythm, of the way his chest rose and fell, and his smell. She turned him onto his back and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her ear against his chest.
"Stay," she whispered. There was hollowness inside her chest that ached. Her insides pressed against it, and like a disease, it spread the pain. She felt as if she had to scratch it out or beat it to feel something else for a moment.
She should have run safer when she wanted to give herself up to the King. Nothing he could do would compare to the loss of Kirin.
Aurelie took Kirin's hand and interlaced her fingers with his. The touch took her back to the celebration that Sasha forced her into, where his fingers briefly touched hers on their boulder. That brief connection sent sparks of lightning through her. Goosebumps rose on her skin as she remembered the feeling of their closeness. She should have kissed him then and there, and every day after. Instead, she bickered with him and held her silly ground, trying to match his distance instead of closing the gap that they both created. Oh, how sorry she was now.
The racket from the kitchen exploded through her ears again. Aurelie let go of Kirin and wiped her eyes. She sat there for a while just watching him.
Something crashed and shattered in the kitchen. Aurelie flinched and heard Peter curse. She stood up and walked to the dinner table. The door from the lounge led to a small hall, and then directly to the tiny kitchen.
Peter was hunched over, picking up large pieces of glass. Aurelie stopped and frowned. The whole counter, as far as she could see, was filled with food. Chocolate cake, roasted chicken, about four kinds of pie, and cooked carrots, potatoes and beans.
"Peter," Aurelie said. "Are you having a party?"
She wasn't in the mood to entertain guests, and she doubted that he'd want her to. Kirin wasn't going to be much of a guest either. What was he going to do, hide them both in the attic?
Peter shot upright, his eyes wide, and his hair rough as a lion's. He shook his head, no, and hurried through the hall and up the stairs. Aurelie took a deep breath and left the kitchen.
Her eggs were still on the table where Peter had left them. She wasn't hungry then and not much now either, but her hands were beginning to shake from lack of food, so she sat down and tried to find eating appealing.
She took a bite of her bread and chewed it while listening to the racket that Peter created upstairs. Picking up the fork, Aurelie pushed the eggs around her plate. They looked delicious, but her appetite barely allowed her to swallow the bread.
Peter's secrecy brought back the time that she had spent with The Keepâher grandfather. She had always remembered her trips to the Dream Realm as clear as if it had been just a regular place, but this time was different. Bits and pieces of what happened made vague connections in her recollection. She remembered some partsâthe big revelation, the dirt, and the dead rosesâbut other happenings, like how she looked for him around the castle, were cloudy. It felt like her visit had been a dream but Aurelie knew that it was real. The difference in the way she processed her recent visit couldn't be ignored. Things were changing in the Dream Realm and she wasn't sure how much longer she'd be a welcome guest. Perhaps, the Realm was starting to realize that it had picked the wrong heir.
At eighteen she had gone through more chaos than anyone could dream of, and she was fine with it. It was her life and she accepted it. The Dream Realm could get rid of her for all she cared. Peter could get rid of her too. Tell her right there that he didn't want her in his shabby little house. But he'd have to tell her. All this guessing and avoiding each other was getting on her nerves. For daysâweeks!âshe let him take care of Kirin as she assumed only he would be able to, without saying a word about his strange behaviorâbut the silence was getting ridiculous.
She hadn't used her magic in weeks and felt it begging her to come out. It fed her irritation just enough to turn it into anger.
Aurelie was going to get the truth out of him that very instant. She threw down her fork. Eggs flew all over the table, and down her lap. Wiping it off, she rose from her chair and marched up the stairs, only to be met with a closed door.
Aurelie banged twice. "Peter, let me in."
"No." A nervous voice came from within.
"Donahue, I'll burn it down. I swear on the soul of my dead mother, let me in and tell me why you've been hiding from me or I will lose my wits. I have the rage of a thousand dragons boiling inside me, and you have no idea how much I miss my magic." Aurelie stepped from one foot to the other, trying to contain herself and steady her breath. The old man was going to get it. She knew that her anger wasn't directed at him and that by no means did she have a say in what he did in his own house, but she needed to have an outlet, and he was closest.
There was a click in the lock, and the door opened slightly. Donahue slipped his face through the opening, and thoroughly observed her eyes, then relaxed. "I'll tell you, but you're not coming in."
Yet another secret, Aurelie clenched her fists and stepped closer. "What are you hiding in there?" Secrets followed her everywhere. She was in a new land, and still, nothing changed. Things were kept back, half-truths were told, and conspiracies started.
Donahue moved his head back and closed the door so that only his one eyes was visible. "My house! Nothing to do with you."
Aurelie grunted. "Open the door."
"No."
"Open it."
"Go away."
An orange tint covered her vision. In Donahue's eyes it looked like two tiny flames. Aurelie hadn't felt her magic in so long. Her neck rolled back, and her muscles tingled in delight of feeling the fire churn beneath her skin. A wicked smiled puckered up her cheeks, and she rolled her head back, slowly, to make herself look even more frightening.
Donahue didn't flinch, his own eyes filled with a purple ring, in retaliation. "You think you scare me?"
"I think you are." Aurelie kept her smile and placed a hand on the door. "I'm done with secrets."
"You have no right! I can send you packing!" Donahue frowned. His fingertips turned white as he clung to the door.
"I know, but if you do that no one will know how to help Kirinâand I won't leave him here with you."
Aurelie didn't care that she was being the worst guest in the history of Redayrah. Nick warned her about his father and Donahue could have just as easily been in on whatever it was he was up to. She'd rather be kicked out of his house with nowhere to go, than to trust blindly and be caught off guard.
"The boy's fine! He just needs rest from "
Aurelie's ears rung and her limbs suddenly felt light as a feather. "He's going to be fine?" The reflection of fire in Donahue's eyes faded. Relief swept over her, even her breathing came easier.
"Yes," he said and slammed the door shut.
Aurelie thought to exit out of happiness and leave the old man alone but he could have been lyingâlike everyoneâand trying to distract her with telling her what she wanted to hear. The door was closed, but she did not hear a click of the lock.
Aurelie reached for the handle and stormed into the room. Donahue turned with wild eyes and ran at her.
"No!" he screamed and tried to shove her out.
Paintings of a woman, the same woman, covered every wall. She had black hair and sharp blue eyes. In almost every picture, her stare was murderous and her brows creased.
A painting of her in a white dress hung skew and was hoisted up over another. In fact, many paintings hung over each other due to a lack of space. In the corner, there were rows of them stacked together. He even hung some from the roof with strings.
Right in the center of the room stood an aisle with yet another painting. It was incomplete, but in this one, she was happy and carrying a child.
"I told you not to come in." Donahue stepped away from her and pressed his hand onto his head. He wandered around the room in a panicked state. "I told you. I told you," he kept repeating.
"Peter, who is she?" Aurelie watched his every move cautiously. Nick said that he was mad, but this was the last thing she expected.
"Alysia, it's Alysia."
Aurelie flinched. "The goddess?" she asked and stepped further into the room. Every painting had the same details. Three freckles on the right side of her nose, a tiny beauty spot below her eye, and a tiny scar crossing her lower lip. As strange as it might have been, it looked to Aurelie as if they were painted from memory rather than imagination.
"My wife."
Aurelie nodded reluctantly and attempted to make her eyes appear less wide. "Okay."
If she remembered the time of Alysia's birth correctly, it was six hundred years ago. Never mind him knowing what she looked like; if they were married he was six hundred years old. Donahue didn't look a day over sixty.
"She created the shadow walkers, you know?"
"Did she?" Aurelie smiled. "That's very interesting. I better go check on Kirin." She backed out of the door, keeping her smile, and looking at the paintings. "They're so beautiful, Peter," she said, keeping her voice steady. "Really. You're so talented."
Donahue picked up a paintbrush and looked at her with his head turned to one side. "You don't want to know more?" he asked with his eyebrow raised. "No one ever does." His eyes pleaded with her to stay. The old man had dropped his guard with her and as happy as she was about it, she couldn't hide the disappointment she felt much longer.
Something Aunt Elizabeth used to tell her crossed her mind, 'You are the company you keep'. So far that consisted of two crazy old men and a shadow walker in a coma. She didn't quite know who Nick was yet but if she went by what Elizabeth said, it didn't look too good for him either.
"I do. Really, but I'd like to see that Kirin is well first." Aurelie reached for the handle just as her eyes filled with tears. If he wasn't in his right mind, had he really been helping Kirin? Did he even know what was wrong with him?
"I think she likes you. She hasn't punished me for speaking yet." He looked up to the roof with his mouth slightly open, and his eyebrows rose. "Yes, see? Nothing."
"Maybe she likes me," Aurelie said and closed the door right as the first tear dropped down her cheek. She stood outside his room, taking in what had happened. After a moment of silence, she heard Peter start to talk to himself inside. she thought finally.
"Peter," she called.
"Yes?"
After a moment of silent victory, Peter spoke, "Don't do it again."
"I . . . I won't, I promise."