Thanking him, I push up from my chair, but curiosity gets the better of me and I slump back down.
“You said you were a soldier for my family. How did you come to be Governor of this town?”
Governor Thran’s gaze drops from me to his hands resting on the table. “After the attack, your grandfather’s advisor took the throne. Zayn. He had a way about him, a superiority swagger. I never trusted him. A feeling inside told me to run, so I did. Packing my bag that night and abandoning my post, I ran as far as I could. I started working for the old high lord of Zury, Eron. Eventually became trusted with the position of Governor.”
He places a hand on my arm, gripping ever so slightly. “You need to be careful, Andi. Whatever killed your family is still out there. I know it. I would be wary of who you reveal your true identity to. Everyone who was openly loyal to the Tanith was murdered. I changed my name and remained hidden in this rural town, to protect my family. You will be safe here. I am and always will be loyal to your family.”
I feel a lightness, leaving the Governor’s manor. The late afternoon sun beams down on the town, wrapping me in a warm bubble. The laughter from within the manor is pure joy and infectious, bringing a smile to my face.
Although it’s bittersweet, reliving memories of Dad and his games, how he always made us smile, I’m glad the girls have their dad back. I assume all the mischief was for attention, in the hopes that one day he would wake from his walking slumber and be the dad they once knew.
The town looks cheerful, and folk mingle about getting ready for the festival tomorrow. Hanging autumnal bunting aroundthe doorways and windows. Ribbons aloft in zig-zag patterns, decorated by the children from the schoolhouse. Each portrays drawings relating to the harvest. My favourite is a picture of a large pumpkin with a smiling face drawn on the front.
The lamps emit an amber glow into the streets, bright orbs dotting the darkening ground, matching the decorations. Cyvail looks beautiful. Folk continue to add discarded wood into the massive bonfire, ready for the gathering. If I thought the bonfires back home were big, this pyre puts them all to shame, towering over all the buildings.
The sun has begun to set. The once clear blue sky, shines with pink hues, a cool breeze drifts through the streets, swaying my hair over my eyes as I walk distractedly back through the town.
I debate telling Myles about the Governor. Ever since Vendyl, things have been different between us. He spends his days watching me warily, waiting for me to explode and hurt him with my powers. I can’t blame him; this isn’t what he signed up for when we first met, running, hiding, or fighting for our lives.
He dreamed of settling down beside the willow tree with a growing family to keep us busy.Now, this dream fades with each passing day.
The conversation with the governor plays on repeat in my mind. I’m now bursting with questions, I should have thought to ask. But at the time, I couldn’t string two words together. What were they like? Did he know my father? Does he know who—or what attacked them?
“What did they do this time?” Myles' voice shocks me out of my thoughts. I hadn’t realised how far I had walked in my dream; he stares at me from the smithy’s door, smirking as he dries his hands on a towel.
His eyebrows crease as he takes in my face. “What happened?” His voice low and demanding, with quick steps, heis beside me. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I allow his sweet musky scent to take over me.
“It’s nothing. Everything’s fine, promise.” He pulls back and stares at me questioningly. “Fine, I’ll tell you if you walk me back to the inn.”
Myles and I walk through the winding streets of Cyvail, manoeuvring out of the way as folk that continue to decorate, dodging children running around with their newly drawn pictures, excited to show their friends. I tell Myles everything, leaving out my magical outburst, scared of what he might think of my lack of control.
“He was a soldier for your grandfather?” His expression tempers. “We can’t trust him. He could be sending carrier pigeons as we speak. I don’t know about this. We should leave.”
I can see in his face he is worried; I am too. “I don’t think he will,” I say, biting my lip, not sure I believe what I’m saying, I doubt Myles will either. “You should stay. You’re happy here, you shouldn’t have to uproot your life for me. Again.”
“You can’t go alone.” He rubs his newly stubbled jaw. “If we have to leave, we will. Both of us. I promised your mum I would look after you, and that’s what I’ll do.”
I mull over his words. He’s right, going alone would be a terrible idea, not only because I can barely protect myself, but I’d get lost in a heartbeat. But there’s a sadness behind his stern words. Regret of leaving yet another home because of me.
“Okay,” I say. Giving him a small smile. “We still need to hunt through Dad’s box anyway for the information on the priest. Then we can figure out where we’re going.”
Myles takes my hand in his, kissing my knuckles. “Let’s get going then.”
The contents of the box are scattered across the floor, every inch shrouded in scrap paper, news clippings, and Dad’s notes. Yet,we’re still to find anything of use. A name, a place, something to help us figure out our next move. The quicker we find this, the sooner we can start gathering supplies, making sure we have what we need to survive the cold winter that’s rearing its ugly head.
“It’s useless, there’s nothing here.” I throw my hands up in the air.
“There has to be something we’re missing,”Myles says, running his hands through his hair before continuing to rummage through the newspaper clippings. I sit with my head in my hands, rocking back and forth. A silent ringing in my head resonates into my ears, becoming all I can hear. The tension of these few weeks is always just lingering on the surface.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to shake these apprehensive feelings that threaten to suffocate me, incapacitating me. That feeling like I’m walking on thin ice, waiting for the inevitable crack, plunging me into frozen water.
Outside, there’s faint chatter which sets my teeth on edge. I jump out of my skin with a loud crash from outside the window, accidentally kicking over the wooden box. It crashes and slides along the floor, breaking open.
My stomach sinks, I know the time and dedication Dad always put into his work. I imagine he spent more on this one for me. Tugging my hair with my hands, I walk over to it, carefully picking it up in its fragile state.
Under the lid, a piece of wood has shifted, revealing a secret compartment.
“What the...” I say, cradling the box in my arms. “Look what I found hidden under the lid.”