Page 94 of Into the Heartless Wood
“Owen. Yes. Sit down.” He waves vaguely at the ottoman. “I’m Taliesin, captain of His Majesty’s guard.”
After an awkward moment and more gesturing from Taliesin, I relieve the ottoman of the tea tray, and take a seat. I hand the arrest warrant over. “There’s been some mistake,” I explain. “My fatherworksfor King Elynion. He would never do anything to betray our country. And I need to know what’s happened to my sister. Is she safe? Is she here? I need to see her.”
The captain puts his elbows on the desk, or rather on the thick stack of papers covering the desk, which he doesn’t seem to notice. “Your sister is perfectly safe. But there’s no mistake. Calon Merrick is in prison, awaiting his trial. I’m afraid his guilt is unmistakable, and he will face either execution or lifetime imprisonment, depending on the leniency of our king.”
I try to shove down my flash of wild panic. “I don’t understand. What is he charged with?”
Taliesin graces me with a condescending smile. “The details are known only to King Elynion himself, and your father, of course.”
“Then how is his guilt ‘unmistakable’?” I’m having a hard time not shouting.
Taliesin raises an eyebrow. “Do you accuse our king of lying?”
“Of course not! But my father’slifeis at stake. At least bring me to him. Let me talk to him. Lethimexplain it to me.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible. Your father is to see no one, lest he pass along his treasonous ideas.”
“But whatarethey?”
Taliesin shrugs. “They’re nothing for me, or for you, to concern ourselves with. Now, as to the matter of your father’s house.”
“Ourhouse?”
He regards me with mild confusion, as if not remotely understanding my frustration. “Yes. Let me see.” He shuffles through the papers on the desk for a moment, then pulls one out. “Your father’s house, awarded to him by the king, is now forfeit to the crown. I’m afraid you will have to find some other place to live.”
“WHAT?” I jerk to my feet, barely keeping myself from lunging across the desk at him.
Taliesin just hands me the paper, which I scan in a white-hot rage. It’s hard to read when anger is making spots dance in front of my eyes, but I vaguely absorb its contents: the seizure of my father’s house and possessions. I can’t focus on the other things Taliesin said—can’t think about “execution” or “life imprisonment.” I feel myself separating—my mind going one way, my body frozen here.
“I’ll take Awela then and go pack up the house,” I say heavily, sinking back onto the ottoman. I think of Mother’s cello in the closet, of the telescope and books in the observatory, of Awela’s toys scattered about her little room, of her lace curtains, one of the last things Mother ever made. “I’ll have everything sorted out by the end of the week. You have my word.”
Taliesin frowns. “I’m afraid you don’t understand.”
If he says “I’m afraid” one more time,I’mafraid I may kill him. “What don’t I understand?” I say through gritted teeth.
“The houseand all its contentsare forfeit to the crown. You can’t go back.”
“But our things—”
“Now belong to King Elynion,” says the captain, enunciating each word loudly and slowly, as if he’s speaking to a very stupid child.
I try to focus on breathing, try not to let the panic crawl into the edges of my vision. “Awela, then. Where is she?” I stare Taliesin down, daring him to keep her from me.
“The child is being looked after, but she is no longer your concern.”
“She is mysister! Ofcourseshe’s my concern. I demand to see her!”
“Owen.” Taliesin sighs, steepling his fingers as he peers across the desk. “I’m afraid I must come to the point. As the son of a known traitor—”
“My father is not a traitor!”
“—you are suspect as well. If you will sign a document swearing you know nothing of your father’s actions and are not in collusion with him—”
“How could I be in collusion with him? HE’S NOT A TRAITOR!”
“—then His Majesty is willing to offer you a post in the army. If you enlist, your sister will be raised as a daughter of the court, and never want for anything. She will of course not be told what befell your father.”
“And if I donotjoin?” I hate this man with my whole being, and for a moment I wish I could drag him and the damned king into the Gwydden’s Wood and leave them for the tree sirens. Memory flashes through me: my mother’s heart, pouring her lifeblood onto molded leaves. Seren’s eyes, her skin shining in the rain, violets tangled in her hair. I can barely breathe.
