The Temple of Forgotten Secrets (After The Rift Book 4) Read online

  The whinnying horse lifted both my attention and gaze from the cobblestones. Up ahead, a man stood on a cart. He pushed a barrel with his foot to another man waiting to receive it at the end of the cart. The second man hoisted the barrel onto his shoulder and carried it into one of the many storerooms lining that side of the alley. The first man pulled back a canvas on the cart, revealing four more barrels. He tipped one onto its side and rested his foot on it, waiting for his friend to return. He spotted me and quickly lowered his hat over his forehead and turned away, but not before I saw his face.

  Ned Perkin.

  I hurried along the alley, pulling my coat tighter at my chest as a gust of wind teased my hair and skirts. I shivered, despite summer's warmth lingering into the early autumn days.

  The shadows weren't so deep in the broader streets. I nodded at Peggy as she locked the door to the Buy and Swap Shop and waved at Rory the boot maker as he also closed up for the day. At the corner, someone swore and another man took offence at his language. The swearer walked off, but the other stepped in his path and shoved the swearer in the chest. I wasn't sure who threw the first punch.

  It was as if someone had lit a torch and waved it to attract moths. Men emerged from the shadows and flocked to the fight, shouting, pushing, and throwing punches. So much for a quiet walk home.

  I quickly veered off and hurried away. The incident had heightened my senses, and I began to notice everyone and everything. A man slouched in a recessed doorway and another four lurked nearby, lines of anger scoring their foreheads. I caught snippets of their earnest conversation. I didn't need to hear all of it to know they were complaining about rising rents and the lack of affordable food for long-time locals.

  Further ahead, in the middle of the street, two men I recognized as Mullians shouted at two strangers while a whore tried to get their attention. Prostitutes were rarely out this early or this far into the village. The sheriff usually left them alone as long as they weren't visible outside The Row.

  I kept my gaze low, my medical pack close, and my wits about me.

  My heart felt heavy. Mull had become a wild frontier where the law couldn't contain the burgeoning crime. Dane was right. The lull that had descended over the village after the shock of the king's death was wearing off. There would be more fighting, more crime, and perhaps even riots. It wouldn't be contained to The Row, like it used to be. It was already spilling into the streets that had always been safe for me to walk down. How much worse would it get before something was done?

  Knowing the governor and the Deerhorns, it would get much, much worse before they took action to alleviate the rising pressure.

  I turned another corner and immediately spun around and walked in the opposite direction. Riding on horseback up ahead were Lady Deerhorn and the governor. I prayed to the goddess that she hadn't seen me.

  The goddess wasn't listening.

  Hooves pounded on the cobbles behind me, so fast that I knew they wouldn't stop in time. I dashed to the left, slamming into the brick wall with bruising force. The horse galloped past so close that droplets of its sweat sprayed me.

  Lady Deerhorn's purple riding cape billowed behind her like a tail, only to settle over the horse's rump as she stopped up ahead. She wheeled the horse around and rode back to me.

  "Next time, get out of my way, Miss Cully," she snapped.

  I didn't bother to respond. We both knew she'd seen me and had deliberately ridden close to scare me.

  "You rode right at her!" It would seem I had a defender in the shadows, someone who wasn't as scared of Lady Deerhorn as me, or perhaps someone who didn't know she had no heart.

  Two of the governor's men rode past, heading in the direction of the voice. I hoped the fellow had got away before he was punished.

  "Don't worry, my lady," said the governor, steering his horse alongside Lady Deerhorn's. "My men will find them. You shouldn't have to put up with this kind of behavior in your own village." He glared at two men dressed in worn boots and ragged clothes as they passed by. Their hungry eyes stared right back. "Mull is going to the dogs."

  Lady Deerhorn ignored him. She only had eyes for me, and what cruel eyes they were, too. Even in the dull afternoon light, the shadows avoided those icy orbs, making them look even paler, colder. "It's dangerous for a girl to be out in the village this late in the day on her own," she said. "You should be at home." The horse shifted suddenly and she pulled hard on the reins. The horse jerked his head in protest. "You wouldn't want to be raped or kidnapped, would you, Miss Cully?"

  I refused to show fear, but my body betrayed me as a shiver rippled down my spine.

  The corner of her mouth ticked in delight. "The king can't save you now."

  I inched away, keeping my gaze on her. She moved her horse to block my path.

  "Thank Lady Deerhorn for her concern," the governor barked. "Merdu knows, you don't deserve it after the things you said at the village meeting."

  I'd spoken out against the Deerhorns’ plans to raze The Row and replace the homes of Mull's poorest with expensive housing the slum's residents couldn't afford. They'd shelved their plans after the people protested, but they would blame me for being the voice of the villagers, no matter how reluctant I'd been to speak.

  "Leave us," she ordered the governor.

  He frowned but dutifully wheeled his horse away to see if his men had found the man who'd called out.

  I swallowed and held my pack to my chest, preparing to run. Lady Deerhorn had kidnapped me in broad daylight once before, but that had been in my own, quiet street. She wouldn't do it here with witnesses around. I hoped.

  "You look like a frightened rabbit," she said. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you. Unless you don't give me what I want, that is."

  I remained silent. I refused to play her games.

  "Sometimes I can't decide if you're mute because you're clever or because you're stupid. No matter. I'll tell you what I want, since I know you're curious." She leaned down a little and lowered her voice. "I want the magic gem."

  My breath hitched. "I don't have it, nor do I know where it is."

  "The captain of the guards knows, and you're fucking him."

  "We're just friends."

  She raised her hand to slap me, but I dodged out of the way and she lowered it again. "Don't treat me like a fool," she hissed. "I want the gem. The real one, not the fake you gave to the king."

  "Why? If you believe the stories, which you do or you wouldn't want it, then the wishes can only be used by the one who found the gem. That was the king, and he's dead. The gem's magic won't work for you." I wouldn't tell her that Brant claimed he had the remaining wishes in his possession now. If I did, he might not live much longer. Those wishes were too valuable for Lady Deerhorn to merely let him keep them, and it seemed the only way to get them was upon the death of the wish holder. Unless they'd already come to an arrangement between them.

  "Just find out where the gem is, Miss Cully," she said, almost sweetly. "Or I'll see that you won't be rescued by your captain next time I kidnap you. He'll be too busy trying to save his own skin to think about saving yours."

  "He won't tell me," I said.

  "You have two days." She kicked her heels into the horse and rode off.

  I ran in the opposite direction and didn't stop until I reached the Divers' house, where Dane was waiting for me.

  Chapter 3

  I had to sit through polite conversation between Dane and the Divers before he finally took his leave. I walked him out, feeling Mistress Diver's watchful gaze on my back until I shut the front door behind me.

  "Did you get the anneece?" I asked him.

  "It's in my saddle bag. Josie, what's wrong?" He took my hands in his. "You've hardly said a word since arriving home, and you seem anxious."

  "This isn't my home," I said without thinking.

  "I came as soon as I could get away. I didn't think there was any urgency. You seemed angry when you wrote the letter, not worried."


  "How do you know I was angry?"

  "You underlined the word 'refuses' twice and called Mistress Ashmole a sour-faced wasp." He rubbed his thumbs along mine. His hands were bare, his riding gloves tucked into the saddle strap. "Tell me what has happened since then."

  "I met Lady Deerhorn."

  His thumbs stilled. "What did she do?"

  "It wasn't so much what she did as what she said. She wants the gem. She's given me two days to get it."

  "Or?"

  "She didn't go into specifics. I explained she can't use it without the wishes but that didn't deter her."

  He let my hands go and turned to his horse. "I'll deal with her."

  "How?" When he didn't answer me, I caught his arm. "Dane, look at me."

  He turned his head to the side, presenting me with his profile. It was something, at least.

  "What can you possibly say to her that will stop her wanting the gem?" I pressed.

  "I'll think of something."

  It wasn't an answer but I suspected it was all I'd get from him. Whether he already had a plan to deal with Lady Deerhorn, or wasn't yet sure how to, I couldn't tell.

  Something she'd said to me seemed particularly relevant now. "Be careful." I took his hand and rubbed my thumb along his, as he'd done with mine. "You don't have the king to protect you anymore."

  "I don't need his protection." He drew on his gloves and took the reins but didn't mount. He touched my jaw and his features softened. "I don't want you to be afraid of her anymore."

  "I'm not."

  We both knew it was a lie.

  He mounted, favoring his injured foot. "Stay indoors. If you have to go out, don't go alone."

  It was pointless to argue with him when he was right; I shouldn't go out alone. The problem was, Meg might not want to come with me if Delle gave birth in the middle of the night.

  Delle did not give birth in the middle of the night, and Meg was perfectly happy to accompany me in the morning. Mistress Diver was reluctant for Meg to attend a birthing, telling her that girls shouldn't be exposed to one of life's raw moments at such a tender age. I told her it hadn't affected me. She let Meg go but expressed her displeasure by pounding her fists into the dough she was kneading with more force than necessary.

  Delle gave birth to a girl with a healthy voice in the afternoon. With the baby's grandmother and aunt on hand, and the father hovering nearby, I felt confident to leave the new mother to enjoy her daughter. They all promised to fetch me if something seemed amiss, no matter how small, but the birth hadn't been a difficult one, and I expected no complications to arise.

  Meg and I left with my payment filling my skirt pocket. When it poked its head out and chirped, I thought it best to carry the little chick instead, lest it fall out.

  "What are we going to do with you?" I asked the ball of yellow fluff.

  "It can stay in our room," Meg said, patting the chick's head. "We'll find a box for it."

  "And when it grows too big for the box?"

  Meg took the chick from me and snuggled her cheek against the soft down. "I don't know, but we'll have to keep it away from my mother." She looked the chick in the eye. "She'll be quite happy to cook you and serve you up at dinner. But I won't let her, I promise."

  "She'll leave it alone if it lays an egg every day," I said.

  Meg checked the underside of the chick. "How do we know if it's a boy or girl?"

  I looked between the legs and shrugged. "My medical knowledge doesn't extend to chickens."

  I wished Delle's husband had paid me in ells instead of a chick, but they were struggling to make ends meet, like everyone else, and I couldn't ask them.

  We'd been too intent on the chick and not taking notice of our surroundings until suddenly the streets got busy. The dock workers had finished for the day. They streamed toward us in groups, some chatty, some sullen, all looking tired. Some nodded or smiled in greeting, but many were strangers to me.

  "Merdu and Hailia," Meg muttered. "It's Ivor. Don't look!"

  Too late. I looked and Ivor saw. He trotted up to us, a tentative smile on his lips and a hopeful gleam in his eye. "It's good to see you, Josie. You look real pretty today."

  "Thanks." I waited for him to greet Meg, but he simply continued to smile at me. "Meg's here too," I pointed out.

  He finally looked at her and nodded a greeting. "Why are you holding a baby chicken?"

  "It's Josie's," Meg said. "Delle had her baby,"

  Apparently that didn't interest Ivor enough for him ask further questions. "Josie, can we talk alone?" He didn't wait for my answer, but steered me away from Meg.

  I jerked my arm free. "We have nothing to say to one another."

  "Just listen."

  "I have listened to you," I said. "Unless you have something new to say to me, I'm not going to listen to you repeat yourself."

  He clicked his tongue and heaved out a breath. If I needed any more proof that I would make an unsuitable wife for Ivor, his frustrated sigh was enough. I was about to point it out when he spoke first.

  "I just wanted you to know I'm not friends with Ned Perkin no more. I ain't seen him for days, and I don't want to. I'd rather have honest work." He grabbed my hand tightly, crushing my fingers. "My job at the docks is secure. I can support us both now."

  I pulled my hand free. "Stop doing this, Ivor. I don't care whether your job is secure, or how much money you make. I'm not going to marry you."

  He crossed his arms and scuffed his toe against the edge of a raised cobblestone. He looked more vulnerable and contrite than I'd ever seen him. I almost felt sorry for him. "You used to like me, Josie, but everything changed between us when I became friends with Ned Perkin. I don't see him no more, though. I promise, I want nothing to do with him." He reached for my hand again, but I stepped away. He swallowed heavily. "You got to believe me, Josie. Me and Ned are no longer friends. He's going to bring trouble down on his head, and I don't want that. I want to be a good man. For you."

  Part of me wanted to walk off without another word. If he thought the only reason we weren't together was because he associated with Ned Perkin, he was a fool. But he was right in one respect. We'd known each other a long time. We may not have been close, but we had grown up together. The way he'd treated me recently, however, dampened any sympathy I felt for him now.

  "Whether you are friends with Ned or not is irrelevant to me," I said, moving out of the way of other pedestrians. "I have no feelings for you, Ivor, nor will I ever. I've told you before, I would rather never marry than marry someone I don't care about."

  He dashed the back of his hand across his mouth. When it came away, his lips were white from pursing.

  "What kind of trouble is Ned making?" I asked to fill the silence. "Is he up to something?"

  He lifted a shoulder. I turned away and strode off.

  "The captain won't marry you!" he called out. "He's hiding something. All the palace servants are."

  Passersby stared at him then turned to me. Some shook their heads or rolled their eyes, while others muttered agreement. Meg took my arm in hers and we headed off together.

  Ivor followed. "You can't trust people who keep secrets." He sounded close. Too close.

  Before I could turn to confront him, he'd grabbed my shoulder and wrenched me around to face him. His breaths came hard and fast, and he bared his teeth. He wasn't a big man, but he looked fierce in that moment. He was also unpredictable. I regretted ever feeling sorry for him. He didn't deserve sympathy.

  "Let her go!" Meg snapped at the same time I pushed his hand off.

  "Why won't you listen!" he cried. "There's something wrong with the servants. They ain't…" He let the sentence dangle, merely shrugging his shoulders to explain himself.

  "Aren't what?" I asked. "Aren't real? That's ridiculous, Ivor. You shouldn't listen to rumors."

  "They ain't like us," he finally finished.

  I shook my head, both in disagreement and disappointment. "That's your reason for not
trusting the servants? That they're not from Mull?"

  He shrugged again.

  Meg transferred the chick to one hand and poked Ivor in the shoulder with her finger. "That's so typical of you. You and many others in this backwater. I didn't know I lived in the same village as so many hate-filled people."

  "We ain't filled with hate," he shot back. "We're just scared. Scared of losing our homes, our jobs, our wives."

  "Those of you with homes won't lose them," Meg told him. "Nor will anyone who already has a job, unless you take too many breaks or do poor work. And if a man's wife strays, then it's his own fault for not keeping her happy. Come on, Josie. Don't waste another moment talking to him." She spun around and marched off, ignoring the stares. Some of those who'd heard her looked impressed, others bemused. I'd never been prouder of her.

  I lengthened my strides to catch up to her. "That was a rousing speech," I said.

  "I have strong opinions on the matter," she said. "In fact, my opinions grow stronger by the day. The more I get to know the guards, the more I like them. The Vytillians are mostly good people too, despite a few bad ones. Marnie and her husband are kind, decent folk. It's not their fault The Rift destroyed their livelihoods. I'm sure they wish they were back there now instead of subjected to hate from Mullians."

  We walked for a while in silence until I felt the tension in her ease as her pace slowed. "So you like the guards more as you get to know them better," I teased. "Any one in particular?"

  "Don't, Josie. I'm not in the mood."

  I stayed silent for the remainder of the walk.

  We were woken by shouts and someone banging on the door. "Josie! Josie, help!" It must be either Delle's husband or the husband of my other patient. Hailia, please don't let it be too bad.

  By the time I reached the door, Meg's father had already answered it. The man standing there clutching his arm and coughing was not a family member of any of my patients, but I knew him well.