Lakesedge (World at the Lake's Edge #1)(8)

He shakes his head, then scoops up some water and splashes it over his face. He wipes his hands against his trousers and pulls the gloves back on. “I told you to forget about it.”

I fill the bucket again with a sigh and unhook it from the rope so I can carry it to the kitchen. We walk back through the garden in silence, Arien ahead of me. He’s grown so much in the past few months. His shirt is tight across his shoulders though I only just let out the seams for him. He looks so much like our father did, tall and lean, while I’ve taken after our mother, curved and small.

A memory comes to me, blurred as the fading sunlight. Our father at work in the garden. His sleeves rolled to his elbows, his hands in the earth. Our mother with a basket of cut flowers in her arms. It’s the strangest feeling whenever I think of them like this: both a comfort and a hurt.

I close my eyes for a moment and let the image linger before I go into the house.

Inside the kitchen, Mother is standing behind the table. Her hands are curled tight over the back of a chair, as though she’s waiting for someone to sit down. Our eyes meet, and she grips the chair until her knuckles turn white. Her expression is wild with a mix of fear and anger. “Violeta. Arien. What happened in the village today?”

My boots catch on the floorboards as I come to a sharp, sudden stop. The bucket tilts. Water sloshes out and soaks my skirts. Arien takes it from me and sets it down carefully. We look at each other. He opens his mouth, but I answer quickly before he can speak. “Nothing. Nothing happened.”

“Really?” A voice comes from the other side of the room. A voice that is newly, terribly familiar. “That’s not how I remember it.”

Instinctively, I push Arien behind me. The monster stands against the far wall, out of reach from even the faint glow of the stovelight. Behind him, the altar with its unlit candles is thrown dark by his shadow. He’s just a silhouette, with his face hidden by the drawn-down hood of his cloak.

The monster is here.

“We didn’t do anything. I already told you—”

He holds up a hand. “Don’t bother to lie. I saw the two of you in the Vair Woods. I saw your brother with the shadows.”

The world seems to lurch until everything is off-kilter. He saw. He knows.

Mother looks at Arien, her eyes wide. “What have you done?” Her face blanches as she turns to the monster. “I’m sorry. I’ve tried to mend him. But there’s so much darkness in him. It’s too strong.”

“That’s why I’m here,” the monster says acidly. “I want him because of the darkness.”

“You want him to go with you, to Lakesedge Estate?” Mother’s voice wavers, more nervous than I’ve ever heard her sound.

“Yes.”

I dig my fingernails against my palms. “Arien is not going anywhere with you.”

Arien cuts a warning glance toward me. “Leta, he’s our lord.”

Anger rushes up, the same way it did in the village when the monster first saw Arien’s hands. Sparks dance across my vision. “You want him to go with you, to that place where you murdered your whole family?”

The monster lets out a terse growl. “Enough! Listen—I’ll make this plain. Either Arien comes with me, or I’ll go back to Greymere and report what I saw. By the time the sun sets, your whole village will know about him.”

Everyone will know. Cold sweat beads my skin as I picture Arien dragged before the altar in Greymere, the bank of candles all alight, his fingers held above the flames.

Arien looks down at his hands, at the gloves the monster gave him. He hadn’t done it out of kindness. He’d just wanted to give Arien time to get away from the crowded village, so he could make these threats where no one would hear. So he could claim him.

“You’ve hidden it for a long time, haven’t you?” The monster’s voice is a veiled blade. “You’ve been so frightened. You won’t have to hide, not with me. I can help you.”

Arien chews the edge of his mouth. There’s a crimson mark where his teeth have scraped his lip. “You’d help me? How?”

“He doesn’t need your help!” I scan the room for an escape, for anything that will stop this, but there’s no way out, nowhere for us to go. Even worse is the expression on Arien’s face. He’s afraid. But alongside that fear is the briefest flash of longing. There’s a part of him that wants this. That’s drawn by the monster’s offer of help.

Arien takes a deep breath, as though he’s gathering courage. “If I go with you, then what about Leta?”

Silence ticks by. When the monster finally answers, it sounds as though he’s bitten out each word. “I don’t want her. Only you.”

I take a step toward him, my hands clenched at my sides. I’m afraid, but I can’t let Arien face this alone. “He’s my brother. Where he goes, I go.”

He doesn’t move, but stays so still that I could almost believe him another shadow.

Here I am with my work-roughened hands and my dress soaked with well water. With nothing to offer and nothing to endear me. For a moment I wonder if I should be softer while I ask him for this. But there’s nothing soft about me—not the bluntness of my voice, not my hands that are still curled into fists.

I move forward. The monster turns his face away from me, the sharp edge of his mouth cut into a tight scowl. He wants to take Arien away, and he won’t even look at me. I grab hold of his cloak where it falls across his shoulder, knot the fabric around my fist and give it a hard pull.