Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(29)

She felt another powerful urge to rip the kystrel off her neck. Breathing quickly, dreading another surge of pain, she gripped the chain and tugged. Nothing happened this time. She snapped it off her neck.

Cettie saw a shadow come to the door. It stopped at the threshold. The old man’s hand still clenched the handle. In the dim lamplight, she saw there was a patch of pure white in his gray hair, just above his ear. Again she had the sensation that she’d met him before in a dream.

She held her breath, staring at Will’s shadow, willing it to pass. The kystrel dangled from the chain clenched in her fist.

And then, to her utter relief, the shadow walked away. A sigh slowly escaped her mouth. She lowered the pistol and the medallion. The ghosts had not yet left, but she sensed they were somehow blind to her presence, even the tall one who had always been able to find her. Which was bizarre because she bore a brand on her shoulder that should have summoned it.

She glanced around the room, taking in her surroundings. It was much smaller than the suite she’d been in. Just a connected washroom and two small—

A little boy lay asleep on one of the beds. He was probably eight years old and slept with such an innocent, untroubled face, Cettie’s heart melted inside her. Young children had always helped her keep her ghosts at bay.

The old man waited for several more minutes before releasing the door handle. It clicked softly.

“Thank you, monseigneur,” Cettie whispered, shaking her head.

“You are welcome,” he replied. “Come sit. Rest. You look weary. Are you hurt?” He motioned to an empty chair.

Cettie walked across the room and parted the curtain, staring out at the night sky. There was a balcony there. She wondered if she should climb up onto the roof and find another way down to the gardens below. From there, she could circle around. It might be easier in the dark.

“I think I’ve trespassed on your kindness long enough,” Cettie said. “Thank you for offering me shelter. But I cannot stay.”

“But if you go out there tonight, it will not end well,” he said simply. “They will find you.” His words were filled with the confidence of someone who knew he was right.

She paused at the curtain and gave him a probing look. “Who are you?”

“A friend, if you’ll have one. My name is Owen. You are . . . Cettie?”

Will had shouted her name in the corridor, but she had a suspicion the old man had already known it. She wanted to feel distrustful, to second-guess her decision to seek shelter, but she felt . . . peaceful at that moment. This was more than just the absence of anxiety. Despite the danger of her situation, she felt calm, reassured, and at peace. She hadn’t felt this way since losing her connection to the Mysteries.

“Yes, that is my name,” she answered. “Are you Occitanian?”

“No. I’m from Kingfountain, although I’ve been to Pree a few times. The Fountain sent me here a few days ago. With my grandson, Curtis.” He gestured at the sleeping boy again. “I was planning to leave in the morning. Perhaps we can help you.”

The sense of relief was overpowering. Again she felt tears burn in her eyes. “You don’t even know me.”

“I may look old, but I remember being young,” he said, with a wry smile. “Being afraid. Alone. You remind me of someone I used to know. Someone who helped me when I was that age.” He nodded to his sleeping grandson. “I came to Pree for a reason, Cettie. The Fountain bid me here. To help you, I think. If you will let me.”

“The Fountain,” Cettie whispered, shaking her head. He’d said that once before, but she’d been too overwrought to heed his words. The Fountain and the Mysteries were two manifestations of the Knowing. They were one and the same. She’d asked for help from the Mysteries, and this man had been sent to her. She had forsaken her oaths, but if there was a way back, she’d take it.

“You don’t have to decide now. Wait until morning. Here, you sleep on my bed. I’ll stand watch through the night to make sure that man does not return. We can discuss things after you’ve rested. Would that be all right?”

She was still afraid, but she accepted his offer with a nod and stepped away from the window. If the Mysteries had truly brought her there, it was time for her to start heeding them.

She stared at the kystrel in her hand a moment, wondering what to do with it.

“Here. Give it to me,” he offered, holding out his hand.

“I wish I could destroy it,” she said.

“It’s caused you pain?”

She nodded vehemently.

He pinned it to the edge of the small table, the whorl design reminding her of a snake preparing to strike. Then he removed a dagger from his belt and, not hesitating once, used the hilt to strike the kystrel. To her shock, it snapped in half, and part of it fell to the floor with a little thump.

She stared at the broken kystrel on the floor, the edges glimmering in the light. Its power over her had been broken too.

How strange that something that had impacted her life in such an immense way could be destroyed with such ease. She also removed the ring she’d been given to disguise herself and set it on the table. She wanted nothing to do with the school she’d been forced to stay at.

As she lay down on top of the mattress and blanket, a heavy weariness washed over her. She could see the boy’s face in the lamplight. Then she remembered something as she fell asleep. When the ghosts used to come for her in the Fells, she’d avoid them by surrounding herself with the youngest children. The ghosts could not reach her with them nearby. Was it a coincidence that the grandfather had brought his grandson to Pree?